Tradition and TomorrowNow that she thought about it, she really didn't know how it happened. Oh, she knew when she realized something was happening, but had there ever really been a clear cut then as opposed to now? She'd realized it that night near the Room of Requirement. It was ironic, really, that it had started just near there if you thought about it for a long time and from a few odd angles.More Like This
There'd been a terrible row; she might have been in tears if she hadn't been so completely furious. He'd called her a mudblood. It wasn't that she was unused to being called such...just that, well, it was something about that, she was sure. Names were thrown and it was a wholly muggle affair, perhaps with the exception of vocabulary. She'd slapped him, hard at that. Her palm stung and his face had snapped to the side before it came back slowly, calculatedly. She could see the red handprint on his cheek already. She hoped it would bruise. And then he'd kissed her: angry, forceful, entirely unexpected, but there non
And I'll hold my breath. Tom Riddle, Harry PotterMore Like This
Summary: Harry has been a little off since the graveyard. He sees more than a closed door in his nightly visions, and he's losing his grasp on reality. "But with the way things are, Dumbledore told us we couldn't write." Hermione said, her hair falling into her eyes. Harry quoted a rather intelligent poem, considering that he could have screamed instead. (Eventual slash) (Alternate year 5)
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And I'll hold my breath
Chapter 1: Summers Passing
“Where are you?” Harry muttered.
No owl came down bearing messages, and no wizard appeared to answer the question.
Harry sat on the swing-set, watching the sun set with growing apprehension. The summer had not been going as he planned, and even the hot, sweltering days couldn’t burn the memory of Cedric’s cold body on his hands, or the touch of ropes around tombstones. So he got up, deciding to finally head home af