《Monday Morning (1)》22
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Lizzie was way too hungover for the frantic knocking that came to her hotel room door. She pulled the pillow over her head, willing the person to go away, but they didn't. So she got up, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail. She was about to berate the person at the door before she was met with a panicked Penelope.
"Penny, what's wrong?" She'd asked.
"I-I did something bad."
Lizzie didn't know what she was talking about or how to help, "So do you need me to help hide a body or-"
Penelope was pacing, wringing her hands together in front of Lizzie who was sat on the edge of the bed. She'd never seen Penelope like this before, she'd never seen her so stressed, so upset and she didn't really know how to help.
"Lizzie, you can't tell anyone." Penelope's lip was quivering, her teary eyes pleading with her friend.
"Penny, I can't help if I don't what happened."
"I slept with someone."
Lizzie didn't know what she'd been expecting, but this was so much worse.
"What do you want me to do, Penny?"
"I don't know. I just need to get out of here." Penny was shaking at this point, tears slowly falling from her eyes. "I can't deal with this right now."
Lizzie didn't want to ask, wasn't sure the woman would even tell her. But it would be hard for her to keep Penelope away from this person if she didn't know who to keep her away from.
"Penelope, Who was it? I know you probably don't want me to know, but I kind of need to if I'm gonna help you."
"You can't tell anybody."
"I know, Penny." She grabbed Penelope's hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze, "I promise this will stay between us."
"It was Scarlett."
Lizzie had to keep her surprise contained, but she definitely wasn't expecting that. She'd just assumed it would've been someone Penny ran into at the bar, not one of her best friends.
"Ok, so I have a plan. You're gonna stay here, I'm gonna get your stuff from your room and then we're gonna sneak you out to an Uber so you can get to the airport and go home."
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Please...
Harry Potter is five years old now, though he does not look it. He looks more like a small four or three year old. But, that's not the end of it.The fact that none of his neighbors know he exists, that he sleeps in a cupboard, even that his parents are dead, is not the end, nor the worst of it. No, the worst, is his uncle. The reason he doesn't speak, look at anyone, barely even breathe. Each night, he hopes for someone to come and save him, but they never come. No matter how hard he wishes, how hard he hopes, it seems he will be stuck there forever, or until his slow, agonizing march to death ends.One night, after hoping and hoping, he starts to realize he will never get saved, helped, even comforted, for his entire life.What if he's wrong, and what if a certain Slytherin can heal this broken child?What if, in turn, this broken child can heal him?THIS IS NOT SNARRY!! If that's your thing that's fine, but HARRY IS FIVE IN THIS FANFIC!! NOT SNARRY!!Do not repost on any other website/account without my permission.
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