Control

     Control

Chapter 3 Dreams, Dads and Broken Hearts

There was a moment of awkward silence. I had secretly begged for him to say something, but when he did, I wished he had not.

"It won't stop, will it?" he said, smiling slightly and shaking his head.

"What?" I asked, confused. Why was he smiling?

"The connections! The signs, the damn drama!" he said as if it were obvious. I cringed at his words. He thought I was dramatic, did he? He thought I wanted attention. It was so ironic. I felt the same way he did.

"Oh, so you think I have this thing as my pleasure!? I didn't ask to have this!" I snapped, taken aback.

His expression went serious as he spoke,

"Oh, well now you know how I feel," he said calmly.

We were silent again, but I could feel the tension in the air growing.

"Im surprised that you weren't in the prophecy," he said, staring at the floor as if there was something down there that interested him.

"Why would I be?" I asked, wanting to know more about what he was thinking.

"I dunno. I just figured there'd be a significant role for something like that. I mean, it's not everyday you come across a witch with simalar powers to the most notorious and powerful wizard in the world," he said.

I thought deeply about that. It would make sense, wouldn't it? But either way it went, I wasn't in the prophecy signifying I would have no role in the defeat of Voldemort. It wasn't magic, anyway, it was physical. It would be hard to use that against an unknown number of Death Eaters, each equipped with his own wand.

"Yes, well, look at you," I said jokingly. I smiled his way and nudged him to get the smallest sign of a smile from him too.

And he did, sheepishly.

"Well, I'm an acception,"

I giggled and shook my head.

"Hermione, how come you never did any of this, er, stuff in Hogwarts?" Harry asked, turning serious again.

"Well, whether or not you or that prat Ron ever noticed it, I did. At certain times, in certain places. I learned to keep in my anger, then unleash it at the end of the day in my dorm or I'd tell you and Ron I had to go to the library and secretly use the Room of Requirement to take my anger out on objects like books and cauldrons. But once or twice I had done something with people around but it was always blamed on Peeves, so I went unnoticed."

Harry nodded, but I don't think he quite understood me.

     ~ * ~

I do not know what had possessed me to wake up in that ungodly hour of the night, but I found myself walking the in the second story Hall to the staircase. My mouth was dry and begged for moisture. I was thirsty, yes that was it. I needed a glass of water. The shadows on the walls from the trees outside the windows bounced about scarily, like ghouls playing a game in hell. Then I heard what sounded like crying, no, moaning. Then the most logical thought came to me. Harry. I turned around and dashed to his bedroom door, throwing it open. He was entangled in his covers and talking to someone not there. His voice was desperate, pleading and angry.

"No, Lupin let me go! We can save him!" he muttered.

I rushed to his bedside and tried to take his hand, but everytime I managed to take it, he pulled away.

"Let me go, it's not too late, we can still-"

He was having a nightmare about Sirius. It pained me greatly in my heart to see his face screwed up with anger and sadness even in his sleep. Seeing that my attempt to calm him hadn't worked, I grabbed both his wrists and shook them.

"Harry, wake-"

But he had shot up all ready, his eyes wide and shocked. I gasped as he grabbed my wrists tightly.

"Harry?"

His eyes were not focused on me, but instead looked past me into the room.

"No, he's not...he can't be..." he mummered. His face then screwed up in pain. He covered his scar with his hand and bent his back over.

"Harry, are you okay?" I asked, removing my arms from his painful grasp. Then his eyes, once dazed, now seemed to become more intact and he focused on me instead of staring into space. My heart sank as I saw his eyes fill with tears.

"They could have saved him, Hermione!" he said loudly. The tears began to fall from his eyes.

I wanted to tell him everything was going to be all right, and then go on living a perfectly normal and care-free life, but I would be lying to him and myself. So I took him in my arms and tried my best to comfort him. He wrapped his around my body and sobbed. It honestly broke my heart to see him in so much pain.

"No, Harry, they couldn't..." I said as I held him close. "Harry he wouldn't want you to be sad, he loved you. I'm sure that if he had to choose a way to die, he'd do it for you, and he did, Harry. He'll rest knowing he did it for someone he loved. He's happy now..."

I don't know if what I had told him was proper in this situation, but then again I have never experienced such a loss. What was I to do? Harry's pained sobs continued and then reduced to those hiccups that you cannot stop, no matter how hard you try.

"He didn't deserve it, Mione...He didn't deserve it..."

I could feel tears sting my eyes. No, I couldn't cry too, or we'd both be a mess. But the tears ultimately did fall and so we both sat there and cried for what seemed like hours. Then after we had contained ourselves slightly, we both lay in Harry's bed, in each others arms The night continued on with whispered words and isolated tears before we both fell into a deep sleep. In my dreams were better days.

     ~ * ~

I was awoken in the morning quite rudely.

"A boy, Liz?! What were you thinking?!" roared the familiar voice.

Then I sighed dissapointedly. My father had come to collect the money my mom had owed him for grocery shopping. It was sad to see that a married couple had to lend eachother money when it should be shared to make their lives happier.

"Oh, no Rich, leave her!" my Mum called to her husband in vain. There were loud thumps of footsteps up the stairs.

"Hermione! Where is she Liz?! She's not in her room!"

But before my mother could even answer, the door flew open and my father stood there, wide eyed. My father was a tall, medium built man in his mid-forties with greying hair and a black goatee. His eyes were always cold grey, and now they were worse than ever.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he yelled at me.

I suddenly became aware that Harry was lying behind me with an arm around my waist. But Harry had woken up at my fathers outburst and we both quickly sat up and I began to explain.

"Harry was having trouble sleeping last night," I began but my father had cut me off.

"OUT! I want the boy out of my house!" he barked, spittle flying from his mouth.

"Your house?" I tyelled back at him angrily, "Since when have you lived here? Your in mum's house!"

A muscle twitched in my face as my anger level grew.

A lamp that rested on a nearby desk had fell off and shattered on the floor. My father's face winced in surprise, he then looked at me. His eyes were full of deep loathing.

"Again with this freakish thing of yours! Hadn't it stopped yet? Mad, you are! You'll be sent off to boarding school! You will not return to that otherworldly school of yous, mark my words,"

"Well at least then you won't have to put up with me!" I said loudly at him, trying to make him reconsider. However my father wasn't what you would call a cooperative man and he began ranting on about me disrespecting my values. Who was he to talk about values?

"And lastly, I won't have my daughter become a little whore!"

That was the spark that was needed to ignite the fire of rage in me.

The desk that had held the toppled lamp had flew right through the air and crashed into the wall that my father stood in front of. I had done it again, and I had almost hurt him. I had missed by what seemed like a millimeter as my father's plaid shirt was pinned to the wall. He stared at me in shock. I got up and took one final glance at Harry before running into my room and slamming the door.

     ~ * ~

Another overcast Tuesday dawned on me quickly. I went to my bathroom and flushed my face with brisk water and stared at my reflection. A fifteen year old girl with ringlettes of brunette hair stared back at me. Her eyes asked the same question, What havoc will wreck itself upon you today? I decided to let fate answer that question. After dressing quickly in a T-shirt bearing Paris 1993 and a pair of denim shorts. I threw myself back onto my neatly made bed and shut my eyes, hoping to block out what had happened the previous day. There was a soft creak and my door opened. Outside it stood Harry, dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt.

"You all right?" he asked, though it seemed like he didn't care.

"Fine," I replied.

Fine was possibly the largest four letter lie of all time.

"Harry, you're not going anywhere, you're staying here. Don't pay mind to anything my father says. He's a nutty drunk," I said suddenly and quickly, as if clearing something up.

"Er, yeah, thanks," he said.

Suddenly Harry made a break for my window.

"Hedwig!" he said elightedly and pushing up the window brought the ivory owl inside. He took a small roll of parchment from her beak, and looked at it curiously.

"How did she get a letter from someone?" Harry asked, curiously, opening the letter and running his eyes from left to right. I stood up and stood next to him to see what the letter said. In quick writing, it read:

Harry,

I've gotten word that you've left the Dursley's from Ms. Arabella Figg. I've told you to stay there, whatever were you thinking? Well I'll be retrieving you from your location (I am aware of where it, is but in the case this letter ends up in the wrong hands..) by this Friday. I will have to take you back to the Dursleys. Please stay where you are,

Lupin

"So I'm guessing it's from Lupin," I said.

Harry, however did not speak. Instead he dropped the letter and rather roughly thrust Hegwig onto the windowsill where she fluttered her wings angriliy. I saw this as a rash change in his until then content mood and inquired his unusual behavior.

"What's wrong, Harry?"

"Oh, nothing," he replied sarcastically, going to my desk chair and slumping over in it.

"Really--Something's bothering you. What is it?" I asked again, knowing that obviously he was going to have a nice little fit soon.

"Well besides the fact that the last person close to family I had left was just murdered, and the person I thought could be more sensitive to the situation doesn't communicate with me all summer, but when he does, he tells me he's going to take me away from a place where I'm safe and put me back into a hell house with a madman, everything's bloody dandy!" he said coldly and in what seemed like one breath.

"Oh Harry, he doesn't know what happened between you and you're uncle. Anyway I'm sure he's just doing this for the best--"

"Oh yes, Hermione, everything is for the best to you isn't it?" Harry interrupted. "well if you've noticed, when everything is best for me, the worst of things happen! A lot of bad shit wouldn't have happened if the truth wasn't held back from me, I mean it's only my life, why should I need to know anything about it?!"

His words were harsh and had a hard impact on me, as I was nearly tears. Great, he's having an it's-all-about-Harry moment.

"Why do you think everyone's out to get you?" I asked incredously.

"Harry, I know you're upset, but don't use me as a vent for your anger all right! Sometimes you don't need to know everything! It's not all about you!" I yelled back just as coldly.

He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say, Hermione, you'll be right in the end anyway,"

Was it just me or did he always call me Hermione when he was angry or upset with me? Well perhaps this is what I should call him when I was upset with him...

"You know, Harry," I said, sneering at him, "You can be a bloody bastard sometimes."

The tears fell. So I turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

What is it with him? I thought as I threw my body onto my bed, throwing a pillow at the wall. I really can't stand him! He thinks everyone's worlds revolve around him! Damn you Harry Potter! You're selfish, conceded, and so damn full of yourself! Grow up and think about others for once. That kiss, it meant nothing! Remember it because all you'll have left are your memories! You push everyone away from you when all they're trying to do is help and mend the pain you're feeling inside. Let someone in, because if you don't you'll suffocate in solitude! Stop feeling so sorry for yourself! Not everyone's going to put up with your self-pity!! Wake up to reality! I simply cannot stand you!

God I love you...