The Inbetweeners

This story is about a girl named Summer and her cousin, Theo. They grew up in a place that's known among witches and wizards as level #3. This is the place that magical folk in the category of something called a hander, are normally raised. Then the cousins find Harry, Ron, and Hermione hiding in a small shelter made of fallen branches. They need to figure out a way to send the golden trio back to the world of 'average' witches and wizards.


4. Knowing

Summers POV

I don't know how it happened, but one minuit, I'm crouching down to have a better look, then I'm struggling to talk in English wile his large, bright green eyes are penitrateing me with a sence of curiosity, and then I find myself cradling his sleeping form. He just seemed so vonerabul and week. His ribs were busted, one of his ankles was sprained, his arm was broken, but when he looked at me, his eyes held no pain, but a sence of calm curiosity. All I could do was stair back. He was clearly not from here. Next to him was a used wand, and therefore he wasn't a hander, who was three times as powerful as a normal wizard or wich and  handers don't need wands. When he woke up again, I was almost disappointed, but all he seemed to want was a drink and to talk. He said his name was Harry Potter, the other boy was Ron Weasly, and the girl was Hermione Granger. I told him my name was Summer Sun and my cousin was Theo, the great klutz of the next six bazillion years. He laughed at that, a strong reassuring laugh that had me joining in in just a few seconds. It felt good to laugh after so many years of work and fear. But after a few minuits, Harry started coughing because I still didn't know how to mend more than one bone at a time, and so his ribs were still broken. Gently cradling his upper half, I patently waited for him to stop coughing wile I muttered words of encouragement and tried to help relive the pain with a few spells. When Harry's cough attack finally subsided, he was paper wight, and I could see the pain in his eyes for the first time. But this wasn't just the pain that you feel when you fall and hurt yourself, but his expression carried the pain of those who have lost those who are near and deer, and even the torture of  seeing one die. I've only seen this expression on a few old healers, and on the wise man of our village. One year, I wanted to watch the healers try and save  my uncle, Theo's dad, but the grown ups wouldn't let me. Now, looking into Harry's eyes, I finally understood why. I was to young to see these things, and those who do see them are never the same. In that one moment, looking into Harry's eyes, into that pain, I knew that Harry had seen these things to soon in his life, and I also understood that Harry hadn't wanted it to be that way. He wanted a life to live on his own, or at least one he could build himself. But he just couldn't seem to get that to happen. Every time he thought that he was safe, a new danger would pop up and he would find himself struggling against fait, and he couldn't seem to stay the winer for very long. Seeing this pain, I took Harry in my arms and I tried to comfort him, to sooth the pain. I held him and cradled his almost lifeless form until he was fast asleep in my arms, and even then, I wouldn't let go. His warm body pressing up against mine, I'd never felt something so reassuring. I woke Theo up a few hours later at midnight and told him it was his turn to keep watch. Snuggling up to Harry, I fell asleep easily, and I slept until morning, when Harry's coughs woke me up once more.

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