Chapter 2: Opening Sleepy Eyes
Harry woke the next morning under crisp sheets, his head resting on a cool pillow. As he inhaled, his first breath of the day, a soft cinnamon-clove smell warmed his senses. He burrowed deeper into the covers, hugging the pillow. His clothes were different, he realized. Gone was the grubby old sweatshirt- and the jeans as well. Instead he was wearing a set of soft pajamas-not his.
Where was he? Harry finally came in contact with the sense to look around the room. He shifted in bed, craning his neck to see around as he positioned his glasses, which had been on the bedside table, on the bridge of his nose. For the first time, he noticed sunlight streaming in through a window- a rather old window with blurred glass. The pattern it dotted across the floor was entrancing; Harry watched it for a bit. There were carpets on the floor- dark green and black. Did the Dursley's have those? They seemed somewhat farmiliar. No- Aunt Petunia thought black was a horrible color- she had readjusted the house so that it contained only white and beige.
Harry shifted on his elbows, turning to see the other side of the room. There was an old wooden door, a large, grand dresser, and a small lamp. Harry turned back to the dresser. It looked similar as well- just like the kind that they had at-
The events of the night before came streaming back, but just barely. Harry remembered; Moody… Moody? He'd come and… Harry fell onto the pillow, staring at the patterned plaster ceiling. Why? He thought, his head throbbing. Why did he bring me here? They'll never understand anything that I tell them.
He noticed, for the first time, voices outside his door.
"Dear, come with me. Harry's got to be awake by now." There was a clinking and clanking of porcelain and a rattle on the door. "Oh goodness, don't have three hands, now do I? Take the tray, please dear." More clinking, then the door opened. Harry rolled over onto his other side, away from the two who entered, but not before they realized that he was awake.
"Good Harry, up already." He heard as Mrs. Weasley scurried across the room, lighting all the lamps and adding to the already-too-bright glow of the room.
Harry laid still, closing his eyes and hoping that she and whoever else was there would leave. Then he could turn out the lights and close the drapes. Maybe teach himself to apparate to the moon and fall into some kind of lunar crater.
Mrs. Wealsey did leave, but not before whispering something to the other occupant of the room. Harry did not catch her words. The door shut. Hopefully both people had left, but Harry scrunched his eyes tight for several more seconds to make sure. When he heard no sound, he opened them.
Before him, her eyes somewhat taunting, but serious nonetheless, stood Hermione. To Harry at that moment, her hair was bushier than ever, and her features, posture and the way that she carried his breakfast tray could not have more clearly said, 'I know everything and you're just being stupid.'
Harry snapped his eyes shut once more, holding back a groan. So I was wrong- but maybe she didn't see. Pray to God- let her go away and leave me alone. Hermione remained silent, but only for several seconds. She quickly walked away, and by the sound of it, placed the tray on the windowsill. Then she returned to Harry's bedside. Strange- she stopped moving. Then, suddenly, Harry's sheets were ripped from his body, coming to a rest where the girl had evidently positioned herself- at the foot of Harry's bed. The boy curled up into a ball, refusing to open his eyes. His toes were cold on the mattress. I don't want to talk to you. Go away.
After several more seconds, Harry heard the soft padding of Hermione's slippers on the carpet as she moved over towards his head.
"Harry- I know you're awake." Hermione whispered bluntly in his ear. "You've moved- twice."
Harry didn't reply. He held his breath. Go away, he thought again.
After several long moments Hermione sighed and backed away from his ear. "When one has to refer to desperate measures-" And with that she sat on him, crushing the remaining oxygen that Harry had left from his last breath out of his body in a feeble wheeze.
"Hermione-" Harry coughed weakly, his head felt like it were about to explode. He opened his eyes, but was blinded by the sudden brightness and had to shut them once more. Hermione didn't seem to want to move from his back.
"See? You're awake. Will you eat breakfast? Mrs. Weasley told me not to leave this room until you had eaten everything on that tray over there."
Harry forced his eyes open to glance at the windowsill holding his food, not replying to Hermione's question. His breakfast- French toast, eggs, bacon, sausages, potatoes and several rolls, was enough to feed ten people-- approximately. Even though the food made his mouth water, he pushed a groan though his throat, just to make the girl think that he wasn't interested.
Hermione didn't seem to mind though.
"Fine," she said "Fine, I'll just have to stay here." She crossed her legs and bounced, forcing more air from Harry's lungs.
"Gerroff," Harry managed. She didn't move, and after one last bounce, Harry shifted and pushed her off the bed and onto the floor using his feet. Suddenly he felt extremely exhausted. He retrieved his covers from the foot of the bed and burrowed into them, turning away from Hermione and the window, shutting his eyes once more.
"Harry!" Hermione said playfully as she picked herself off from the floor. "I can't believe that you-" she halted herself when she noticed that he had turned a cold shoulder. "Fine- fine. Be that way." She walked over to the tray of food, and by the sounds of it, picked it up and moved towards the door.
"Alright!" Harry exclaimed, but his breath came short and he coughed. "I'll- I'll eat if you turn out the lights and draw the drapes. They're hurting my head."