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No, I haven't abandoned this story. My computer broke down and cut my creative flow. Hope you're still with me!
As for other characters, yes, some will make their appearance. You have to be patient. I'm no good at writing lengthy chapters.
Do review!! You're giving my writing a great boost.
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Chapter 4 - Amy
Harry only vaguely was aware that something was off when he stepped out into the entrance hall. Amy was standing there all by herself. His head still full of Hermione Granger, he nodded at her explanation that the others had gone ahead, and silently followed her down the long, winding path to the sea.
The yellow beach stretched out before them under a cloudy sky. Wind hit Harry's face when they emerged from the dunes, bringing tears to his eyes. The waves were roaring and thundering, spilling water everywhere as they hit rocks that resembled pointy, freshly sharpened teeth and were not too inviting to come closer. Unfortunately, these rocks' brothers and sisters were scattered all over the beach. Harry knew immediately that he would probably never take a bath down here. He glanced longingly up the hill to where he could just discern the white of the orphanage. It was much warmer up there, and he wanted to talk to Hermione.
Amy set down, allowing the wind to play with her hair so that it fanned out behind her. He wondered where the shy girl she had been when they first met had gone to. Then his thoughts strayed to Ginny, who had been very consistent so far, and to Hermione, who he had yet to get to know better.
He was not surprised that they were alone at the beach - well, that was not true either. Luna Lovegood had been bathing her feet in the water and now came strolling towards them.
"Hi", she said in her usual mystified voice. "What are you doing down here?"
"Having a date", Amy said loudly. Harry choked, and she thumped him on the back.
"Oh", Luna replied, her protuberant eyes widening a little more. "I thought you got acquainted yesterday."
"Yes, well, love can be like that", Amy said, betraying impatience more than infatuation. Harry could almost hear her add the words, now go away. He threw Luna a pleading look, but she must have misunderstood him, because she sniffed once, and said in an oddly normal voice, "Well, I know where I'm not needed. Harry - I hope you've made the right choice." It sounded a little sad, he realised; before he could say anything, however, she had marched off, very much unlike the Luna he had seen so far. Girls were so full of surprises, he thought. Rounding on Amy, he employed a strict voice to veil his rage. "What did you say that for?"
"But it's true", Amy said very softly, moving closer to him. "You accepted to come to the beach with me after I had confessed to you." Her voice was almost a whisper now. She was much too close. "Harry..."
He struggled for words to throw at her - he was enraged - but then, his eyes met hers, and everything else faded away. He distantly heard the rushing of the waves. His lips brushed against Amy's.
"Interesting", said a high, cold voice. "I can't remember giving you permission, Benson."
The thick velvet that had enveloped Harry, caressing his skin, erasing all of his worries, was torn into pieces. He felt as though he had been slapped. Amy looked simply furious, and he stepped back, away from her.
Tom Riddle was sitting on a large rock nearby, the same rock Luna had been leaning against while holding her feet into the water. Inexplicably to Harry, his face was a display of fury that surpassed Amy's distinctly.
Tom jumped off his rock elegantly and approached them. Amy moved closer to Harry, who moved farther away from her out of instinct.
"I gave you no permission", Tom repeated, "and you shall never, I'll say it again, never, abuse my powers even one more time."
Harry blinked. Amy, very red in the face, almost yelled, "I don't know what you're talking about, Riddle!" His face contorted, and she shrunk back.
"Go away", he said in a lazy manner, although his words were dripping with cruel pleasure.
Amy did not wait for a second command. She turned on her heels and ran. Harry saw her honey-brown hair dance up the winding path to the top of the hill.
Tom sneered and took a few steps that led him away from Harry.
"Wait", Harry said. Tom halted and turned his pale face on Harry. His eyes were colder than ever.
"Don't go telling people I rescued your neck or something, Potter. It was not out of kindness at all", he stated and again turned his back on Harry.
"It's - it's magic you're using, isn't it?" Harry said tentatively, unable to contain himself. He knew he was being reckless - if this was a secret Tom had been guarding carefully, he might murder Harry on the spot.
Tom did not bother to show his face this time.
"If you must know", he said coldly, "yes, I can use magic, and I use it for punishment of those who annoy me. I've punished Amy Benson - oh yes, she's still got the marks - and she still has not learned her lesson."
"Why did you say she didn't have your permission?" Harry demanded, feeling that he might be pushing his luck. "You were rescuing me, weren't you?"
"You are determined to be a fool", Riddle said in his high voice that drove shivers down Harry's spine. "After I had tortured Amy, she somehow learned to draw strength from the imprint of my powers on her wretched body. It is why she walks around trying to make boys fall for her. I cannot allow such a tremendous abuse of my powers!"
He set off at last, leaving a speechless Harry behind.
***
"Where have you been?" demanded Ginny. She was standing outside the entrance. A red light was glowing in the west - the sun was setting already. Harry had stayed at the beach all day, feeling that he needed to do some serious thinking. Now Ginny, still furious from the earlier incident at the infirmary, was waiting for him, her arms folded over her chest.
"What is it with you?" he handed back to her. "I'm free to walk wherever I want!"
The door opened. To Harry's puzzlement, Hermione stepped out into the last tiny rays of sunlight, her head still in white bandages. She drew up short at the sight of them, and changed the direction of her feet so she could give them a wide berth. Somehow, it felt sad to be avoided by her.
"Luna told me you'd gone to the beach with Amy", Ginny spat. "Just the two of you! What do you think you're doing?"
"What I think I'm -" Harry just wished she would keep her voice down. Hermione must be listening to every single word.
"You're not interested in Amy, are you?" Ginny demanded. Harry said nothing, but even remaining silent enraged her more.
"I've been watching her! She's been taken with you from the first moment, you know that? You're getting her hopes up! Are you doing that for your self-esteem?" She glared at him accusingly.
"It's not like that!" Harry defended himself, stung. He was conscious of Hermione still in their proximity. Why she had to walk that slowly...
"Do you have feelings for her?" Ginny asked.
"No", said Harry, annoyed.
"Did you kiss?"
Harry could not exactly deny it. He examined the ground in silence.
"Did you?" she pressed him. Finally, reluctantly, he nodded. "Yes, but -"
"You pervert!" She stormed off after Hermione, probably to have a girl's talk.
***
The following weeks were surprisingly easy for a change. None of the girls spoke to or even looked at Harry. Luna glided past him wordlessly, while Ginny never missed a chance to send him her furious stares. Amy avoided him, which he was unlimitedly glad about. Hermione, on the other hand, was not easy to understand. He had hoped that she might talk to him, so he could set her right about what she had overheard. Instead, she seemed to have developed some loyalty towards Ginny, and was sticking with it. Sometimes, however, he felt her eyes rest on him, and when he looked up, her gaze was not in the least reproachful, but full of kindness, and a little questioning. Sometimes he wondered whether he should just seek her out; it was easier said than done, seeing as she was sharing her room with Ginny and Luna, and they hardly allowed her a break from their company.
He had let Ron and Neville in on the whole story, of course. Ron had roared with laughter; the advice he had offered had been, "they'll calm down eventually, girls always do." Neville had taken a more serious stance - indeed, Harry and Ron suspected that the kiss on the beach had been followed by a major crush on Ginny. Consequently, Neville was worried about the way Ginny took Harry's matters to heart, and insisted Harry clear the air.
"I tried", Harry said desperately. "Honestly. But she knows it's none of her business who I'm seeing. Sometimes I think she just wants to be involved in everything, and I insulted her because I didn't inform her about my every step. It's ridiculous, and it's something she needs to get over with..."
"But", Neville pressed with a persistence he had not once displayed before, at which Harry and Ron exchanged a grin, "you never know until you've talked it through with her."
"It's you who's got to talk with Ginny", Ron jumped in, "if you're that worried about her the nature of her feelings towards Harry."
Neville went scarlet and muttered, "only because Harry's my friend", and Ron laughed.
Tom Riddle had readopted his usual indifference towards everyone except Ginny. He generally passed Harry without so much as the slightest glance. Harry had mulled it over during several quiet hours, and had decided that Tom had really once again confirmed his reputation down at the beach. It had not been kindness. Tom might be cruel, but he was not a liar.
Breakfast was a rushed affair these days. Every day, Harry and Neville got up swiftly, almost ran down the stairs together with Ron and sometimes Emil - who was no longer Hermione's top priority now that he had established tentative connections with others - then they normally were the first ones to arrive, so they feasted quickly and hurried back upstairs to grab their books so they could choose whichever seats they wanted in the classroom.
Indeed, for a few days now, they had lessons, given by Helen. Hermione had easily become top of their class immediately. Harry had half hoped that lessons might be the chance to initiate a conversation with her at last, but age difference, as it turned out, did not matter to Helen, and in effect, they formed one big class together, which meant that Ginny and Luna were still with them, although one year younger. Only Tom Riddle never showed up for the lessons, which did not surprise anybody.
Harry strongly suspected that Riddle spent the time they were in the classroom up in the attic. Just what he did there, Harry could not fathom, and he was not too hungry to find out. Tom had given him a clear warning that he could and would use magic. Harry was not very keen to become subject to Tom's idea of a punishment. He half wanted to ask Amy, but decided against it - after all, he was happy not talking to her, and he also did not want to bring back bad memories. If she still had the scars, it must have been a horrible experience.
One day, Harry ran into Amy unexpectedly when they were both late for class. He had awoken to an empty room - Neville usually never managed to wake anybody, something Ron found ridiculously weird.
Amy blushed violently as Harry eased towards the stairs, allowing her to fall behind. He also was not too keen to talk to her. Acknowledging his intentions, the girl slowed down. Behind them, a door opened and Tom Riddle walked past, employing a rather quick pace. Harry and Amy both stood still, watching him.
Harry felt his insides turn to ice.
The moment Tom had disappeared from sight, he rounded on Amy, who squeaked in surprise.
"You", he said accusingly, "made use of Tom Riddle's secret powers to enchant me."
Amy whimpered.
"And", he proceeded, ignoring the pain in her eyes, "you were able to use his powers because he had tortured you before." He did not know what made him say it. Tom Riddle's words had come back to him, and rage was coursing through his veins. He wanted to hurt Amy, he wanted to -
"Stop it!" It was probably the first order to himself that he ignored in a long time.
Amy looked at him, confused. "I - I'm not doing anything", she said in a high-pitched voice that was raking in fear.
"I'm not talking to you!" he bellowed, re-incensed in spite of himself. Control yourself, he begged himself, his heart beating so fast it echoed on the walls, control yourself -
Emotions must have been waging war in his face; Amy could no longer bear it. Losing her head, she pushed past him, and Harry's arm, momentarily not heeding his desperate commands, reached out and grabbed her. Amy stumbled, slipped on the top stair, toppled over, and hit the floor with an almighty crash. Books came pelting down like rain. Then, there was silence.
Harry watched the heap at the bottom of the stairs in disbelief. Then he found himself taking great steadying breaths, gasping for air, clutching his throat. The uncontrollable rage had been eradicated from his chest, leaving a gaping hole that slowly, but surely, filled with black dread and icy horror. His head was buzzing eerily.
It did not stop there. Downstairs, a door flew open, and Helen shouted, "What's this racket?" He heard her feet thunder through the corridor as she marched to the very bottom of the staircase. Unable to move a limb, Harry did not consider running for it even once. His books were also down there, his name written into them, and anyway, he was guilty of - hurting - Amy, wasn't he?
When Helen came into view, however, he would have given anything to evaporate on the spot. He could have taken whatever she had in store for him just now, and it would have been no competition for the guilt he was feeling. What he saw now, however, made his heart leap into his throat, and then sink into a pool of despair for what was going to be an eternity.
For some reason, Helen had brought Hermione Granger with her.
***
The clock on the wall was ticking. Harry stared at the ugly wooden thing, hating it. It was just dreadful. If anything, he wanted all the sounds in the world to be washed away, along with the sound of his dully beating heart.
He was a murderer.
He barely remembered the exasperated look Helen had displayed at the scene of crime, nor the smugness on Tom's face, who had mysteriously reappeared. He had barely recognised his friends' faces in the crowd that had immediately gathered around the pile of flesh that was Amy. He somehow recalled that Ginny had stared at him, her eyes blazing from an inner fire, and that Ron's smile had gone out for the very first time, leaving him look oddly pale and distorted.
Luna had clutched at her heart, Neville had gasped very audibly - and little by little, every single eye had turned towards Harry.
He remembered various details that somehow did not form a coherent story. Hermione's bushy hair - Helen's sharp voice - Flinch's large boots - a red "23" painted above a door - footsteps - a door slammed shut - silence.
The walls turned from honey to red before his eyes over and over again in this very room as he sat on the chair watching the clock dully ticking away the hours.
He was a murderer.
Hermione... He had not been able to face her, though he had an inkling of the nature of her facial expression right before the gentle curtain had fallen, allowing him to pass out before the thousands of pairs of eyes swimming in the sea of skin and hair below him.
He was a murderer.
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Coming up: "Isolation". In which Harry spends time dreaming and watching other people, including a very disturbed Hermione.
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