Title: Jealously and Good Intentions
Author: Michelle
Status: Unfinished
Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Three
Harry woke with a start at the Grangers house. He sat up and looked around the room as the events of the night before flooded his mind. He groped for his glasses and put them on, seeing that it was only 4:00 am. Considering he had slept most of the previous day he wasn't surprised. He slowly got out of bed and looked around the room. He crept across the room and opened the door as quietly as he could.
He walked down the stairs to see Hermione asleep on the couch. He walked past her and walked down the hall to the door way. A nice walk in the early morning before anyone was up. Hoping for a nice relaxing walk he opened the door to find himself face to face with the guy he'd seen before. Harry stood there without saying anything for what seemed like a year. He was pacing and didn't even seem to notice Harry was standing there. Harry watched him for a moment. His hair was unruly, like his, but it was dark brown. He was wearing loose fitting jeans with a white tee shirt. He seemed kind of rugged and American. Why would he be here, in Europe, if he was American? None of this made any sense.
Harry, most definitely not being in the mood to talk to this guy, walked right passed him and onto his walk. Not looking back Harry decided to walk around a couple of blocks to blow off some steam. He heard someone yell behind him and then footsteps catching up to him. Harry didn't change his pace; instead he let the guy catch up with him.
"Hey!" Harry heard him yell. "Hey, wait up!" He yelled again. Harry stopped walking.
"What?" Harry asked, somewhat impatiently.
"Who are you?" He asked with a scowl on his face. Harry knew what he was thinking. He also knew what this looked like; he was, after all, a teenage boy, walking out of a teenage girl's house. But there was a look in his eye. A look of realization? What was that? Did he recognize him from somewhere?
"That's none of your damn business." Harry said calmly and went to walking again.
"Are you…is she…" The boy trailed off. Harry turned around and saw a sad look in this strangers face. Harry felt a wave of sympathy for this person he barely knew. He couldn't bear this.
"No." Harry said simply. Harry looked at this boy who was obviously Harry's age; but he seemed so young; so innocent. "What's your name?" Harry asked.
"I'm Jim." He said, not looking up at Harry who was about two or three inches taller than him.
"I'm Harry." Harry said and reached out his hand. Jim shook it politely.
"You know what…I'm kind of…I have to go, okay." Jim said. It was obvious that Jim thought that Hermione was cheating on him. On the inside, Harry knew this. On the inside, Harry didn't care. In fact, he was happy about it. This was the same guy that was taking Harry's place in Hermione's life.
Harry didn't respond. Leaving Jim standing alone on the street Harry walked away with a smirk on his face. That grin didn't last very long. He thought about the fight with Hermione that he had had. Would it have been better to just leave it be. Maybe Hermione would have told him in her own time. Was it even that big of a deal? Did he just ruin an important relationship over nothing?
The answers to these questions Harry didn't know. But something felt wrong. Not sure exactly why he felt the urge to turn around and didn't fight it. He walked back towards Hermione's house to find no one around. He looked around Hermione's house, just to be sure, but there was nothing. Thinking maybe that it was just his imagination he continued on the much needed walk.
He thought about nothing in particular. Trying to get Hermione and the fight off his mind wasn't easy. Something was making him squirm a little bit. Maybe it was that guy. The name…Jim it was. He seemed…off.
Harry sighed; his `saving people thing' was going again. Jim seemed…familiar…like he'd seen him before. He was sure that he had. But where? Where would he have seen him? At school? No, Jim would have known him. As much as he hated what came with his name, it did have its advantages. He racked his brain for a mental image of where he'd seen him before but couldn't come up with anything. He was sure he'd had contact with him before. Not just a stranger on the street. He knew him from somewhere. Something suddenly dawned on Harry; it wasn't a realization that he had seen in Jim's eyes before. It was recognition. He was sure of it. Where would he recognize him from? Was he a spy or something? It certainly fit. Trying to get into Hermione's life. For now, though, he wouldn't worry about it. He needed some time to clear him mind.
Harry wasn't sure for exactly how long he walked; but it must have been a long time. People were coming out of their houses on their suburban streets with their normal families thinking about normal things. Somehow he found himself back at Hermione's house standing in front of the door. He opened the door and walked in. He saw no one downstairs; not even Hermione sleeping on the couch downstairs. He looked around the dining room but found no one. Becoming worried about Hermione and her family he ran upstairs hoping to God that she was there. He frantically opened the door of the upstairs family room to find Hermione sitting there on a big fluffy chair in the middle of the room.
Harry breathed a loud sigh of relief and ran over. Hermione looked up just in time for Harry to pick her up and hug her tightly.
"Harry!" Hermione squeaked.
"Hermione, I was so worried. I thought that you were gone. The last thing that happened between us, the last things I said to you…" Harry still had yet to put Hermione down.
"Harry, I'm fine. Now put me down." Hermione said in a cold tone. Not angry but not exactly heartfelt.
"Sorry." Harry said, hanging his head. He was happy that Hermione was okay. But the tone in her voice reminded him of the night before. He headed for the door but before he grasped the handle he turned around.
"No, Hermione. I'm not sorry. I've always tried to be there for you. If I'm a burden to you, let me know, okay. But I'm not going to keep trying to get you to talk to me; I'm not going to force you. You have to be willing to work with me. So when you find the time to talk to me…let me know. I'll come running." Harry said with a self-confident flare in his eyes that was a rare sight in those days.
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