Yo. Or yozies for short (or is it yosiez? No...something's definitely wrong with that)
I can't...actually remember when I wrote this. *PalmFaceSmack* I have a lot of them. Maybe one brewing now, mwoo ha ha haa...
Anyhoo. Slight Drarry going daayywnn here.


Sucks To Be Me.

"Ginny?" Harry looked up into his girlfriend's eyes, and spoke her name as he saw they were gazing at him. She beckoned for him to come to her before turning and leaving, and he put the book he was reading down to follow Ginny out of the library, down a corridor and into an unused classroom. When he got there, Ginny was sat at a table, facing the wall.

Harry stood, not entirely sure what to do with himself. He shut the door quietly behind him to let her know he was there. She turned around and their eyes locked again. Harry felt nothing. He knew he should feel something; the waves of emotion she was sending out were so strong he could practically touch them, but as he looked into Ginny's eyes, nothing happened. He felt nothing; a calm, dull, numb nothing.

"Ginny?" he repeated. She looked at him for a long time with hurt and confused eyes, before opening her mouth and contradicting her expression completely.

"What the hell is going on, Harry?" her mouth curled into a small, sad smile, and somehow Harry knew she wasn't really angry, just the hurt and confused girl her face gave her away as. He phrased his reply carefully, taking his time with it.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean by that, Gin, but-"

"Please don't call me that. Not whilst we're having this conversation."

Harry was nonplussed. He had no idea of what "this conversation" was, and why it stopped him from using a nickname. He moved closer to Ginny, but just as he got close enough to reach out an arm and touch her, she rose from her seat and moved across to the other side of the room; his arm was left dangling in the air. Not quite at his arm and not quite away from it either. He figured this was what he felt when he looked at Ginny- not quite something, but not quite nothing.

"Ginny," he said, his aloft arm held out in a beckoning gesture, "what is 'this conversation'?" Instead of coming closer, Ginny stood in front of the door.

"What have I done? Please," he murmured, "tell me?"

Ginny sighed and shook her bright hair out of her face.

"It's not what you've done, it's what you..What you haven't done!" her voice raised a little, and she started ticking off on her fingers;

"Avoiding me. Recently, every time I see you in the corridor, you seem to suddenly head off a different way! And – you never respond! I'll be talking to you for ages, and when you do finally bother to reply, it's some dazed, far-off answer that usually has nothing to do with the previous conversation! And every time I try to bring this up, your face just goes blank!"

"Well, I've had a lot to think about recently…" Harry started, but he was interrupted.

"Oh, you've had a lot to think about? What about me?" Harry looked at her guiltily and saw her eyes were filling up. "How am I supposed to think when I see you on the arm of Hermione, or if it's not her then it's in the greenhouse with Luna, or being bosom buddies with that Parvati Patil! What am I supposed to think!?"

Harry couldn't answer. He bowed his head, and hoped Ginny would stop, and hoped she would carry on, and wished he could make her happy, and knew that he couldn't. When he looked up again, Ginny was in the middle of a sentence. She had obviously been talking the whole time, but he just didn't realise. He knew what she thought she meant by unresponsive, but she had the wrong idea. It's not that I don't listen, he wanted to say, it's not that I'm unresponsive! It's just my head, it gets so loud, it's hard to concentrate sometimes! Differentiating between thoughts and spoken words, it's just so hard!

"Harry, we are in a relationship! Do you know what they are? Do you? Do you know what it means to be in a relationship?" Ginny, from the other side of the classroom, bearing down on him like a hawk, never once moving.

"Yes."

"Well, you have a funny way of showing it sometimes! Harry, relationships have meaning! It means commitment, loyalty!"

"Ginny." He closed his eyes- he didn't want to tell her the truth, what he'd been feeling for a while now, but he didn't want to lie either. "Ginny, listen." Telling the truth was easy, once it was over and done with. "It's not…that I'm not attracted to you…" but then, telling a lie was harder to bear. He'd have it forever. "It's just…" Harry opened his eyes and saw her across the room. She was crying; silvery streams of wetness ran down the side of her face. She was pale, and her hair stood out against her unnaturally fair skin. He had decided. He didn't want the easy way out.

"I'm gay." He blurted.

What? Was he meant to say that or was that just something that popped up in his mind? Whatever it was, she didn't believe him. Ginny shook her head and backed into the door.

"No, you're not. Whatever it is, it is not that. Just-" she stopped. Her head flashed towards the ground, and then back up again. She took her hands off the door and was silent. Harry didn't know what to do; how could he make this awkward, ridiculous moment any better for either of them?

"Ginny-" he tried.

"No." her spoken word was cold as ice and harder than steel. He tried again.

"Ginny!"

"No!"

"I'm sorry!" he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry!"

"Save it." Ginny's eyes were like fire. Harry thought they matched her hair.

"Please, Ginny," his voice was barely audible. "Ginny?"

She shook her head. Groping behind her, she found the door handle. Opening the door, she turned and made to leave, wiping her eyes with the back of her robe. Harry went after her. He looked left; he could only see a distant Slytherin turning the corner. He looked right, and saw her walking away, back toward the library.

"Ginny!" he called. She ignored him. "Ginny!" he faltered, and, "Gin?" he said weakly. Giving up, he sighed and turned back into the classroom. Falling back onto an empty chair, he groaned and slumped over the desk. He didn't hear the door open, nor did he know anyone was in there until they spoke.

Draco was feeling particularly happy with himself as he walked down the corridor to their classroom. Just as he turned the corner, the door to the class opened and the Weasley girl ran out, wiping her eyes on the back of her robes. A few seconds later, Potter followed, and stood at the door shouting her name like a true idiot. After three shouts, he gave up and went back in.

By the time Draco got to the classroom, he could hear Potter groaning, and when he went in, Potter was slumped across a table making a noise like a constipated hyena.

"What's wrong with your face, Potter?" said face jumped, and Potter sat up straighter. Draco was prepared for the usual bag of tricks, but then Potter groaned again and resumed his slumped position.

"Hmm. Well." Draco said suspiciously, "I'm meeting someone in here in a minute, and that someone will not be happy if I am not looking spectacular. So, if you don't mind…"

He reached inside his robes and took out a pocket mirror and a black eye pencil. Snapping open the mirror, he was about to start when Potter opened his widely-practised mouth.

"I screwed up," he said, "once and for all-"

"Yeah, yeah, what else is new, idiot?" Draco got his eye pencil and made five dots under his left eye. Concentrating on joining the lines perfectly, he didn't really pay much attention to the boy in the chair.

"Ugh," murmured Potter, and proceeded to ramble an entire nonsensical speech, "Going to be round the school in ten minutes flat…shouldn't have done it…biggest mistake…"

"Uh-huh," Draco replied, really not listening at all. "Right, yeah…" he inspected his left eye and decided it would do. Noticing Potter was still mumbling, he turned to look at the guy.

"Potter." He said, "What in hell's bells are you babbling about? And sorry to interrupt your moping, but Blaise is going to be here soon and while he'll be positively thrilled to see ya, I'm sure he won't be pleased by the sight of a gibbering twit taking up the space he will, and I mean, will, be occupying in about fifteen minutes. So please either speed up and tell me what big mistake will be spread around the school, or get up and get the hell out of here. Your choice." He shrugged.

Potter lifted his head. "Zabini?" he queried. Draco nodded and smirked. Potter just groaned loudly and sank down again. "This just keeps getting better and better." Raising one eyebrow to look at Draco, he spoke again.

"You don't really actually care, do you?"

Draco shrugged. "Meh," he replied, "it passes the time. Now. Speak or go, I'm on a deadline here unless you've forgotten."

Surprisingly, Potter lifted his entire body off the chair and turned to go. But then, predictably, he stopped halfway across the room and talked again.

"I told her I'm gay."

"So?" Draco was now working on his right eye (The dots were perfect, if only he could join them without the presence of an arch-nemesis), "You tell a lie, it spreads. So what if rumours go around? What's the problem?"

"You talk as if there's no problem at all," Potter laughed.

"Well, there is no problem, is there?" Two dots were joined perfectly. Draco concentrated, and joined the next one.

"Well…" Potter struggled for words, "the thing is…"

"Oh, come on, spit it out then Potter- I don't have all day!" Technically, Draco had ten minutes. "Why, anyone would think you were gay!"

Potter's hands flexed. "The thing is," he said clearly. He turned around to face Draco and looked at his eyes through the mirror.

"I'm gay."

Draco's hand slipped on the last line, making a huge black gash across his face. "What?!" He whirled around to look at Potter. He was standing there sheepishly with his hands in his pockets.

"You're gay?" Potter nodded, swinging down onto his heels and back again. Draco couldn't help but laugh. "You? Freaking Harry Potter?!"

Potter sighed, and looked down. "Yeah."

Draco couldn't control his laughter now, as he realised, "And do you mean to tell me you've just told this popular, pretty, extremely temperamental girl you're gay, intending for her to believe you and for everyone else to assume you're lying?!"

Potter just shrugged. Miserably, a very miserable shrug.

"Well-" Draco choked, "I can safely- say- you- are screwed!"

Potter nodded. "Sucks to be me," he added.

"Tchh, yeah!" Draco replied.

Harry grinned at Malfoy. "I'd better go," he said, and turned to leave. Suddenly, he remembered Malfoy had a black smudge on his face. "Oh…" he turned around again.

"Malfoy?"

"Oh, you're still here?" Malfoy didn't even look up from examining his fingernails. "Yes, what?"

"Er.." Harry motioned towards his face, "didn't think you'd be pleased if Zabini walked in on you with a black hole eating your face." Malfoy looked confused, and touched his hand to his face. Bringing it back down, he saw the black pencil marks.

"Oh, shit." He turned his back on Harry and grabbed his mirror from the table, immediately trying to get the eyeliner off his face. Harry shook his head, chuckling, and left quietly.

As he shut the door and went back to collect his bags from the library, he seemed to be happier than he'd been for a while.


Ooh, RAWR! ... Erm...yeah, I'm a little hyper today...Erm...yeah...BYE!
Chezzy Xx