Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Melanie Proctor was a rather observant girl, and was a lot more intelligent than most gave the members of her House credit for. She had always been curious and willing to offer a friendly hand. Therefore, it came to know surprise to her family when she began to watch Harry Potter. She had seen him betrayed by the school more times than she cared to count, yet he still saved them all on a yearly basis. She had watched him hurt - seen the haunted look in his brilliant emerald eyes. She had seen him fight back tears and anger and still be kind to others - even when they weren't kind to him. Harry Potter was a unique person. A person to be treasured by those he called friend. So, once again, her family was unsurprised that, upon hearing that they were not allowed to tell Harry anything about what was going on, had proceeded to dress down the Headmaster and any who agreed with him. She then gave his friends a week before yelling at them as well and writing Harry a letter herself. She just hoped that he wouldn't angry with her when he found out. Because she would be telling him, of course. She wouldn't be like them. She wouldn't hide anything from him.
Harry stared in disbelief at the letter in his hand. It was from a classmate he had never met, and she seemed to know that he didn't know her because she had sent him a picture along with her letter. She was a tanned, athletic-looking girl with cobalt blue eyes and light brown hair. She was smiling at the camera with her wand tucked behind her ear. The picture, while clearly taken at Hogwarts, was still. Curiosity peeked, he quickly moved on to the letter.
My name is Melanie Amanda Proctor and I am I fifth year Hufflepuff. I have three older brothers and two younger sisters that I adore. My mother died in a car crash (she was a muggleborn) when I was six and my father has only recently remarried. She went on to tell him about her hesitant relationship with her stepmother and how, though Tiffany was a kind woman, she still resented her father and worried that taking to the new wife would somehow replace her mother. Then, one babbled paragraph and an apology for babbling later, she wrote: Unfortunately, though, Cedric Diggory was my only friend, but I don't blame you. Seriously: IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT! You didn't kill him, Harry, so stop beating yourself up over it! Now that my little mini-rant is over - I thought that you might want someone to listen who wouldn't just try to tell you that everything would be okay when clearly it won't. I know meaningless platitudes won't help and they won't make you feel better. I was in the car with my mother when it crashed. She died on impact and I was carted away to the hospital for almost a month. I think I know how you're feeling. You're probably wondering why you lived and he didn't, why you couldn't have died in his stead. Why only him? Am I right? Am I close? I think I hit the nail on the head, but why don't you tell me? Just remember - Cedric was my only friend, and I was his closest. He wouldn't have wanted you to blame yourself. He'd want you to celebrate your victory and, maybe, tell his parents what you thought of him as he went through the Tournament. Write me back. Tell me about your family. Your nightmares. Yourself. Or just write back and tell me to shove it wear the sun doesn't shine. Also, read the papers if you're not already. I think you'll find what they have to say very interesting. And, for what it's worth, I believe you. Even if no one else does.
Your hopeful friend,
Harry stared at the letter for a few moments more - then sat at his desk and began his reply. He began by telling her a little about the Dursleys and a little about himself. Then he told her about Ron and Hermione. He told her how he knew Sirius was innocent and how he had once hoped that someone would take him away from his relatives. He told her how much he loved Hogwarts and how he liked to go up on his broom and just fly, without thinking or worrying about anything - just soaring through the air and the feeling of freedom it gave him. He even ranted a little about how his friends and godfather were virtually not writing him. He avoided telling her the truth about his adventures at the beautiful castle he called home, though, and the full extent of the Dursleys. He also avoided mentioning his nightmares. After he had sent the letter, he marveled at how great it felt to have someone speak to him without thinking they knew everything about him. He had a feeling he would grow to like Melanie Proctor very quickly.
Hi guys, *rubs her head sheepishly* sorry for not updating any of my other stories recently, but... This popped into my head and needed to get out. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please Review!