Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or anything related to that. This is somewhat of a songfic story so I don't own the song "I'm Still Here" either. It belongs to John Resneck (sp?). besides that, I own the story line. That's it.
A/N: This is just something I wrote about a year ago and I thought I'd take a shot at posting it at Portkey. Hope you like it.
I'm Still Here
Harry skidded to a halt in the doorway of the Transfiguration classroom as the bell rang. The heads of about thirty second year students looked up at him curiously. An anxious Dennis Creevey waved furiously at him.
"Lost Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagal's stern voice asked him from across the room.
"Sorry professor," Harry grunted. He excused himself and ran down the hall toward Charms. As he did so, he mentally cursed himself for thinking it was Friday. He still had to wait one more day until it was Christmas Break.
"Mr. Potter," Professor Flitwick squeaked as Harry entered the classroom ten minutes later, "I was afraid you wouldn't be joining us. Take a seat."
Harry blushed slightly as he seated himself next to Hermione, who looked at him curiously. He caught her eye and held the gaze for a moment. She then giggled quietly and turned to listen to the lesson. Since the beginning of the year, Harry and Hermione had been communicating through their eyes more frequently than through their voices. They had grown so close that they could tell what the other was always thinking. It was a great little gift the two shared which they used to irritate Ron quite a lot.
"Why were you late?" Ron hissed from across the room.
Hermione burst out into a fit of giggles and Harry grinned.
"I'll tell you later," Harry whispered.
Ron sighed and gave in, looking a little hurt from being left out. Harry shook his head slightly and tried to pay attention. Concentrating had become a problem of his lately.
"Mr. Potter are you with us?" Professor Flitwick's voice rang out in Harry's head, halfway through the class.
"Wh-what?" Harry asked, snapping out of another daydream. "Yeah, yes, I, I am."
"Then please follow Mr. Creevey to Professor Dumbledore's office. The headmaster wishes to see you."
Harry nodded and stood up. He caught Hermione's eye and she nodded at him, signaling that she'd get the homework for him. He followed Collin slowly, paying no attention to what the fourth year was babbling on about. Before he knew it, the two were standing in front of the large phoenix statue that held the passageway to the headmaster's office.
"Well, see you at dinner Harry!" Collin said cheerfully and walked off.
"Mars Bars," Harry muttered at the phoenix. The statue began to turn and Harry followed it's path up to Dumbledore's office door.
"Harry!" Dumbledore smiled as the rugged looking teenager stepped into the elegant room. "Nice to see you."
"Same to you professor," Harry replied, taking a seat in the large leather seat in front of him. "So, why'd ya call me in here?"
"Harry," Dumbledore said, sitting up straight and looking serious. "I know what's going on outside Hogwart's walls has been extremely rough on you. I know sometimes you wish you weren't the Boy Who Lived either. But the fact is you are. You are a hero, especially to your fellow classmates."
"I know professor," Harry sighed deeply, gazing out the window, letting all his troubles float through his mind.
"Many of the students are too afraid to go home for the holidays," Dumbledore went on. "So, to lighten everyone's moods, I've decided to hold a Talent Show on New Year's Day. And since you are who you are I was wondering if-"
"No."
"What? You didn't even here my question."
"I know what you're thinking Dumbledore," Harry said nervously, "I won't be in the show."
"Oh, come on Harry," Dumbledore pleaded, "it will be fun. And the students will be inspired to see their hero perform just for them."
"Right," Harry said skeptically, rolling his bright green eyes, "they'll be 'inspired.' That's a load of bull-"
"Harry," Dumbledore said sternly.
"Sorry," Harry muttered. The two were silent for a while until Harry looked up into the old man's light blue eyes. A rush of guilt hung over him. The teen sighed. "Do I have to?"
"No," Dumbledore said nonchalantly, a small smile on his lips, "but I would like you to."
"So that means I have to?" Harry asked, knowing he lost the battle.
"Thank you Harry," Dumbledore smiled jubilantly, "you may go back to class."
-:-
"Oh, Harry, that will be so much fun!"
"For you," Harry said somberly, sitting in front of the fire of the Gryfindor common room. Hermione was sitting on the floor with Crookshanks in her lap, listening to Harry intently.
"What do you mean by that?" the brunette questioned.
"I know you and Ron will get a huge kick out of watching me making a fool of myself."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, a small grin coming across her lips, "I would never laugh at you. . . too much."
"See!" Harry accused his best friend. The girl fell into a fit of giggles and tried desperately to suppress them.
"I'm only teasing," Hermione said sweetly, after her laughing subsided. "I'll help you out if you want."
"How?" Harry asked hopelessly. "The only talent I have is flying, and I can't necessarily fly around the Great Hall can I?"
"No I suppose you can't," Hermione whispered, gazing off into the fire. After a few moments of silence between the two, Hermione lifted her head and smiled. "Write."
"What?" Harry asked, suddenly very confused.
"I know how you must feel right now," Hermione explained, "like you have to do everything because you're Harry Potter. Like you can't even live a normal life and be an angry teen once in a while. So, what I'm saying is, write it out."
"Write what out?" Harry asked, still not understanding what Hermione was saying.
"Your feelings, your emotions," Hermione answered. Harry gave her a bewildered stare and she rolled her eyes. "Honestly Harry, you know how to write don't you?"
"Yes," he said stubbornly, "but I don't see how writing anything could help."
"Well I DO," Hermione answered earnestly. "Just do as I say alright? Please."
Harry finally gave in and Hermione smiled satisfactorily. She then wished him good night and scampered off to bed. Harry stayed seated in front of the fire, deep in thought, contemplating just exactly what Hermione was conjuring up for him.