Disclaimer - I own nothing except the plot, and any spelling/grammar mistakes. (Lucky me, eh?)
Book 7 coming out in less than 11 and a half hours!!!! I can't believe it!!!
This will be the last update on this story for at least two weeks as I'm off on holiday tomorrow morning.
Thank you SO much to everyone who reviewed :)
Chapter 4 – Crossing Paths
Draco awoke with a start. He had been having the most awful nightmare. He had dreamed that he had been locked in a cage by the Dark Lord. Draco's Master had been throwing huge slabs of pizza at him, most of which seemed to hit the boy in the face. As he recollected his dream, Draco shuddered – he really did despise pizza.
As his mind cleared and allowed him to think about reality, Draco's stomach seemed to sink until it hit the floor. It was Monday morning now. The past two days had passed sickeningly quickly, with no productive thoughts occurring during either of them. And now it was Monday.
"Five days," Draco whispered to himself, "That's all I have now." The mere thought of the Dark Lord caused a large lump to form in the Slytherin's throat, one that just wouldn't seem to budge. The pressure on Draco felt as though it was increasing by the day, and he was beginning to feel suffocated by his own thoughts.
The amount of time alone had not been helping the blonde to escape this feeling. As he had spent so little time with others, Draco had began to converse with himself when alone. This had helped at first, talking about his problem had been somewhat relieving, even if the only person who could reply was himself. However, Draco was quickly growing bored of his own company.
The blonde reached over to his bedside table and picked up his wand. Casting the 'Tempus' spell, Draco realised that he had overslept, a rare occurrence for him. He quickly got out of bed and looked around the dormitory, finding the room empty. Making a mental note to thank Blaise for not waking him up in time, Draco got dressed as quickly as he could, and threw his robes on over his clothes.
Draco had transfiguration first, and he knew that Professor McGonagall would be most displeased if he was late. For this reason, the blonde took only 30 seconds to make sure that his hair was tidy before running from the room.
Harry sat in his normal seat, resting his head on his arms. Whoever had decided to give the 6th year's transfiguration first thing on a Monday morning had been very cruel indeed. Ron and Hermione were sat to Harry's right, engaging in a long, slow kiss that was making most of the class feel rather awkward.
Harry was deliberately refusing to look in their direction, so kept his eyes firmly focused on the desk in front of him. Neither of the pair had spoken to him for days now, and his only social interactions had been with Dean, Seamus and Neville.
The door to the classroom opened and Professor McGonagall rushed inside and walked up to the front of the classroom. Hermione quickly broke her kiss with Ron and both turned a magnificent shade of magenta. The Professor disregarded the kiss, earning a grateful look from the bushy haired witch.
"I apologise for my lateness, a fight broke out between some of the first years. Open your textbooks to page 312." Professor McGonagall said briskly, clearly wanting to start the lesson quickly to make up for the late start.
Harry reached for his heavy textbook and opened it up to the correct page, allowing his eyes to glaze over when he saw the tedious-looking page of text in front of him. There wasn't a single picture on the page, and the only gaps in the text were the separations between the paragraphs.
The door to the classroom suddenly flew open for the second time in ten minutes. Every member of the small class turned around to see Draco Malfoy stumble through the doorway, his eyes locked on the ground.
Harry was a little surprised. Malfoy was never late to lessons, he often showed up early just to intimidate the Gryffindors. Also, the Slytherin was alone yet again. Harry couldn't understand what would force Malfoy to suddenly abandon his group of friends and adopt such a solitary lifestyle. The blonde looked so ill, so underweight that although Harry hated the boy, he still felt sorry for him.
Harry's eyes followed the frail Slytherin as he walked across the room and collapsed onto his seat. He really didn't look healthy at all. The Gryffindor suddenly asked himself why he was worrying about Malfoy. When he couldn't think of an answer, Harry resumed his activity of staring blankly at "Advanced Transfiguration - Book 1".
Professor McGonagall was finally free to begin the lesson properly with no interruptions, and she took advantage of the classes silence, clearing her throat and starting to explain Edna Dihcro's theory of object to animal transformations.
The rest of the day had passed almost painfully slowly for Harry. His fellow Gryffindors had started to tease him, and the boy felt as though he could hardly move an inch through the school without somebody sniggering at him from behind their hand. Harry was honestly rather surprised that he had managed to avoid his classmates taunting for so long, especially seeing as the first years were so intrigued by his presence.
Normally, Harry would have been able to cope with the jests, simply brushing them aside. However, the Gryffindor no longer had his friends to cheer him up, and the cutting comments made by other students were simply reminding him of his friendless state.
The Boy Who Lived wanted nothing more than to curl up in a quiet corner and cry. Instead, Harry was sat cross-legged on his four-poster bed, with his tattered Potions textbook laid open on the sheets in front of him. Despite Professor Slughorn being much less intimidating than Snape, he still set liberal amounts of homework and fully expected it to be completed. As Harry was finally reaching his potential in the difficult subject, he wanted to ensure that his grade was not in danger of slipping.
Unfortunately for Harry, he couldn't seem to focus on the work at all. Looking down at his parchment, the only writing on the page was the title; "Why Felix Felicis Is Banned From Most Official Competitions". Harry was growing more frustrated by the minute, as he just couldn't seem to think properly about the essay, despite being genuinely interested in the so-called "liquid luck potion".
The door suddenly burst open and Dennis Creevey stumbled into the room. Harry looked up to see that he was carrying a camera identical to the one that his brother Colin was often seen sporting. The small boy slowly walked across the room to Harry, before promptly holding the oversized camera up to his face.
FLASH! Harry blinked rapidly, hoping that the younger Creevey brother had an extremely good reason for disturbing and apparently blinding him. He opened his mouth to ask the younger boy, but was cut off as his question was answered.
"He-Hello Harry! I'm just taking some pi-pictures for the Daily Prophet! They're do-doing a story on you tomorrow morning Harry! About you ha-having no friends!" the boy stuttered, clearly caught up in a wave of excitement about having his photographs used in the Prophet. The moment that he had stopped speaking, Dennis turned and promptly ran from the dormitory, his breathing frantic.
Harry could only sit in shock for the next thirty seconds. When he finally regained the ability to think and move, Harry gave up on his homework for the time being and stood up. The stress that he had been feeling was all getting to be too much for the boy, and he knew that tears would be falling sooner rather than later.
Harry went to leave the room, and then turned back, decided to take his potions book with him after all. Maybe the homework would make more sense after he had released some of his anger and sadness. He pushed the textbook into his bag along with some spare parchment and a quill.
Slinging the bag over his shoulder, Harry left the room and began the tedious walk through the Gryffindor Common Room. Despite common perceptions about the Gryffindors, Harry was beginning to see the darker side of his fellow housemates. Their teasing about his loneliness was becoming as bitchy as that of the Slytherins. This seemed so different from the past, when every person in the room except for the first years had cheered his name during Quidditch matches, and told him afterwards how talented he was. Although these moments had been awkward for Harry, he would certainly have preferred them to the reactions that he now provoked.
As the messy haired teenager walked down the steps and through the large and usually cosy room, silence was cast upon it. A moment later the silence was broken, though not by resumed conversations. Instead, the Gryffindors began to whisper behind their hands, clearly about Harry. He could hear snippets of the conversations, but nothing more. To Harry, these whispers felt as though they grew louder with every step that he took across the room.
As he reached the portrait after a seemingly eternal walk, Harry felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see a third year girl looking up at him, an ugly smirk on her face. The smirk grew more obvious as she asked him a simple question.
"Is it true that you're 16 and have never even had a proper girlfriend?" As the girl finished her question, laughter erupted from all around the room.
Harry didn't answer the question. He simply glared around the room and turned to leave, though not before noticing that one of the laughing Gryffindors was none other than Ron Weasley.
Seeing his first real friend laugh at him so readily hit Harry like a punch in the stomach. He immediately found himself biting back tears, and began to run as he stepped outside of the Common Room.
Draco wasn't quite sure how he had ended up in the deserted second floor toilets for the second day running. One moment he had felt good considering the circumstances, and the next he had found himself rushing towards the second floor girls' toilets, once again on the brink of tears.
The Slytherin stood in front of the cracked mirror, cursing his weakness for every tear that fell. He was painfully aware that he now had only 7 days to toughen up and formulate a mission plan. Draco wasn't sure that he could even withstand another of the Dark Lord's curses, especially in this fragile emotional state.
Pushing back his sleeve, Draco took another look at his right forearm. Most of the skin on his inner forearm was a deep, raw red in colour, but the Dark Mark itself was the deepest black.
Tears still rolling down his pale cheeks, the Slytherin walked over to a sink and turned on the tap. Filthy water began to pour out into the sink, and Draco shuddered. He quickly took out his wand and cast a quick "Purify" at the water, smiling as it changed from the colour of sewage to clear, pure water.
The boy then pulled his sleeve even further up and allowed the area of his arm with the Dark Mark to rest under the cold water. Draco gave a sigh of relief. The constant throbbing that the tattoo caused him was not completely gone, but the pain was greatly reduced.
Looking down as the water splashed onto his arm caused Draco's sobs to become heavier. He looked around the room, thinking how desperate he had become. He had been brought up to believe that working for the Dark Lord would make him stronger, yet Draco had never felt so weak in his life.
Harry sprinted down what seemed like the thousandth flight of stairs, still trying desperately not to cry. When he had started running, the Gryffindor hadn't actually had any idea where he was heading, but as there were a few groups of people around and his tears were threatening to fall at any moment, he realised that he needed a destination fast.
The room of requirement would have been perfect, but Harry realised that he was on the second floor, and would have to go back up 10 flights of stairs to reach it. Looking around, Harry realised that Moaning Myrtle's toilets were only along the corridor. Deciding that it was his best option, the Gryffindor started to walk along the corridor towards the door to the girls' toilets.
When Harry reached the door, he pushed it open and stepped inside, letting his tears fall as he did so. He closed the door behind him, and turned to look around the room. As he did so, he jumped. Quickly wiping away his tears, Harry willed his heart to beat a little slower as he addressed the boy by the sinks.
"Malfoy? What the hell are you doing in here?"
Draco jumped upon hearing another voice, having been too busy crying to notice the other boy come in. He hurriedly pushed his sleeve down, and spun to face the person who had spoken.
His heart lurched up into his throat as he realised that Potter was the intruder. Realising that his cheeks were stained with tears, the Slytherin quickly wiped his face, glaring at the other boy as he did so.
"None of your business, Potter" he spat. Nobody was allowed to see Draco cry, least of all Harry bloody Potter. He continued to glare at the Gryffindor, inwardly praying that no signs of his tears remained. His hopes were crushed when the other boy took a step closer and smirked.
"You've been crying."
Harry couldn't work out how Malfoy had learned of the deserted girls' toilet, or why he had been crying, but the Slytherin's red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks were unmistakable. The once elegant Slytherin Prince looked so weak, so pathetic that for a moment Harry couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. This moment was ruined almost instantly as the other boy began to walk quickly towards him, arms outstretched.
"Malfoy, what are you----" Harry was cut off as the other boy wrapped his hands around his throat. He was forced to look straight at the Slytherin, and this time he felt no pity, only disgust. He felt Malfoy loosen his grip a little.
"You bastard! What do you think you're doing? Let go of me!" he shouted.
Draco just looked blankly back at him. What did he think he was doing? How was strangling the Boy-Who-Lived going to erase his memory? These thoughts crossed through Draco's mind but didn't quite register, as he heard himself speaking with malice.
"How did you get in here Potter? I locked the door." He hissed, tightening his grip on the other boy's throat and watching him squirm. Draco's heart was pounding in his chest, but he refused to let his surprise and fear show to the other boy.
"It was open."
Draco felt his glare slide from his face, and suddenly felt incredibly stupid. He stepped back, freeing Potter.
"Are you sure?" he asked, thinking back and realising that he didn't actually remember locking the door. Dumbledore's Golden Boy reached up and rubbed the red marks that had appeared on his throat where Draco had grabbed him.
"Certain. Now are you going to tell me why you're in here?" Harry continued to massage his throat as he spoke, looking at Malfoy in a state of confusion. He had to fight not to add 'And was it really necessary to attempt to strangle me?'
"No I'm not. Why are you here? Spying on me by any chance?" replied Malfoy. Harry almost laughed at this comment, but instead gave the blonde his worst look.
"Don't flatter yourself Malfoy." Harry sneered. For a moment Malfoy looked taken aback, as though the Gryffindor had shattered his composure. Then the Slytherin stepped so close to the other boy that they were almost touching. So close that Harry could feel Malfoy's warm breath on his lips. He felt his breath hitch in his throat. The other boys' face was only centimetres from Harry's own.
"Oh, now I'm really scared Potter" hissed Malfoy. The blonde pushed roughly past Harry and walked briskly out of the room, leaving a very confused Gryffindor standing alone in the girls' toilet.
Draco walked quickly back down to the dungeons. Luckily it was only 3 floors, and there was nobody about. Had he not been a prefect, the blonde would have been worried about getting caught as it was clearly after hours, but the knowledge that he could easily feign being on patrol calmed him.
Due to his speed, it took the Slytherin only 5 minutes to reach his Common Room. He whispered the password and stepped inside, glancing around the room. There was a time when Draco Malfoy entering the Slytherin Common Room silenced even the older students, but due to his frail appearance any chance of that happening now was long gone.
Now, nobody noticed his entrance, not even his friends. Draco saw this as an advantage, knowing that if Blaise saw him walking in there would be countless questions about where he had been. The blonde glanced over at his friends, who were sitting in their usual place by the fire, before walking towards the boys' staircase.
Draco ran up the stairs 3 at a time and walked over to the 6th year dorms. Having seen the number of people in the Common Room, Draco was certain that he would have the room to himself for at least an hour, which was definitely a good thing – he needed some time to think.
Draco closed the door behind him and walked over to his bed. He collapsed onto it; it had been a long day. The Slytherin closed the thick green curtains that surrounded his bed and cast a silencing charm on them. False sense of security or not, it helped him to relax.
Thinking back to his encounter with Potter in the second floor girls' toilets, Draco felt genuine confusion. He had leaned in close in the hope that it would frighten Potter, but all he had seen in those green eyes was confusion and a little nervousness.
Feeling that he was reading too far into the situation, Draco cast a quick 'Tempus' spell. 10pm. Deciding that it was late enough to sleep, he undressed down to his boxers and climbed into bed.
As he lay there, the Slytherin realised that he never found out what Potter had been doing there in the first place. One thing he was certain about though; next time he would definitely make sure he locked the door.
When Malfoy left the girls' toilet, Harry's mind hadn't been functioning properly. One thing that he was aware of though was how much colder the room felt when the other boy left. He knew that it was stupid, that he would rather spend time in a room with anyone else in the world over Malfoy. Except maybe Snape. Or Voldemort for that matter.
But the fact remained that the conversation that they'd had, if you could call it that, was more than any contact that Harry had had with Ron or Hermione since the start of term. This was immensely worrying to Harry, but he refused to accept that his friends no longer acted like friends.
Realising that it must be after hours, Harry began the long walk back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Luckily he didn't bump into any prefects, and found himself back at the portrait of the Fat Lady in no time.
"And what time do you call this young man?" she asked as Harry walked up to the entrance. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged.
"Mandrakes. Please let me in?"
The Fat Lady gave a loud sigh, but the portrait swung open and Harry was free to pass through. He gave her a nod of thanks before climbing through the portrait hole. The Common Room was slightly emptier than when he had left, but there were still more people than chairs.
As he walked across the room, Harry was aware of everyone going silent again. But this time he didn't care. All that mattered was getting through the room and into his bed. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on the floor as he walked to the stairs.
It seemed like an age before Harry reached the dorm, but when he finally did he was pleased to see that it was empty. The brunette closed the door behind him and undressed as he walked over to his four-poster bed.
By the time that he reached the bed, Harry was wearing only his boxers. He threw the rest of his clothes into the open trunk at the foot of his bed and climbed onto the soft bed. He closed the curtains around him and got under the duvet, feeling exhausted despite not having been particularly active.
Harry felt sleep coming over him within seconds, but just before it took over completely, a little voice in his head spoke up; 'Why are you so interested in Malfoy anyway?'
Harry frowned in his semi-conscious state. He honestly didn't know.
I know this is much shorter than the other chapters but it just seemed like the right place to end it.
Reviews please? Let me know what you think of book 7 as well:)