October. Year 6.
Dear journal, I'm not doing any better than the last time I wrote in you. Maybe even worse… Voldemort is still out there… The Daily Prophet is still reporting deaths nearly everyday. But now it's even worse because Dumbledore is hardly ever at the school anymore. Merlin only knows what he's doing, but it better be important. I can't believe he just leaves all his students here without him. I just don't feel safe when he's not here, and I don't think I'm the only one… Students keep getting taken out of class randomly and 5 minutes later will run back into the classroom crying, grab their bag and be gone before any one could even ask "Who's dead?" Yeah, we all know the situation whenever that kind of thing happens. The latest to leave the school because of the death of a family member was Lavender Brown. I really do feel bad for her… But the thing is, people keep asking, wondering "When will this all just stop?" I just keep quiet when this question is asked, because the truth is, it will stop when I make it stop. But I don't know how to make it stop. Dumbledore says I'm the only one who can but I just don't know what to do! I think I might have finally found the solution though. It's a risk- no, not a risk…It's a sacrifice. I think I'm gonna do it. What else could be the answer? Anyway, death is the only cure to growing older, right? Can't be so bad.
Harry closed his journal and yawned. It was late. He really should have gone to bed hours ago…what with double potions first thing tomorrow morning. He shoved his journal in his bag. Grabbing his wand off the bed stand where it had been giving off light as he wrote, he whispered "Knox," and darkness consumed him, kind of like the way it was consuming his feelings and driving him to make decisions that could lead to unfixable mistakes, compelling him to make stupid sacrifices.
He was woken up the next morning by Ron, who was punching his arm rather roughly.
"C'mon, sleeping beauty! Wake up!" Ron yelled in his ear. Oh, the kind, caring nature of the Weasley family…
Harry and Ron walked into potions class just on time, so all Snape could do was give them a warning that if they ever dared to be almost late to his class ever again he would have them in detention so long that the only time they would see the light of day would be if they looked out a window. Harry set his bag down on his desk. He was so tired, he started to doze off just as Snape started giving instructions.
"Potter!" Snape yelled.
Harry woke abruptly to the sound of Snape's voice ringing in his ears.
"Sleeping during class, eh? 20 points from Gryffindor."
"Sorry, Professor." Harry said, quite unapologetically.
It was the middle of class by the time Harry realized that they were supposed to be brewing a potion. He had been spacing out on and off, and had done pretty much nothing. The cauldron on his desk was filled with nothing but water. He heated the water, as if that would be of any use when he didn't even know what he was supposed to be doing. He was about to ask Hermione, but he looked up to see Snape hovering over his desk. Snape looked in the cauldron, and then turned livid eyes to Harry.
"Potter," Snape said calmly.
"Yes, sir?" Harry asked.
"I asked you to brew the Drought of Living Death. This," he gestured at the cauldron,
"is hot water." And with that said, Snape grabbed Harry's desk and flipped it, not only making the contents of his bag go all over the floor, but making Harry fall out of his chair because of the steaming water pouring on him, burning and drenching his skin.
Snape sneered, satisfied, and said, "You will receive a zero for this assignment."
Harry turned his desk back over, and started gathering his stuff up off the floor and stuffing it back into his school bag. Then it was time to leave. Rushing, Harry closed his bag, hoping he had gotten all his books and papers. However, he didn't see as he was rushing out the door, the small journal that a certain blond Slytherin had just happened to see left behind, and just happened to pick up and take with him.
Harry went to bed earlier than normal that night due to the lack of sleep he had gotten the previous night. He though about writing in his journal, but could find nothing in the depths of his mind that was important to write (that he hadn't already written, of course) at the moment. He settled down under his covers, and drifted into sleep.
As Potter slept away, Draco flipped through the pages of the journal that had been left behind in Professor Snape's class. Most of it was repetitive, mind-numbing rubbish about his feelings and whatnot. But the most recent page written in had something. Not what he had been hoping. He had been looking for something to blackmail Potter with…something like, oh I don't know, Dumbledore touches him inappropriately when he takes those late night trips occasionally to the headmaster's office. Or maybe he has a secret crush on Hagrid… but this…this was different. He wasn't sure, but it sounded to Draco like Harry planned on commiting suicide or something. What stuck out the most to him was "I might have finally found the solution though. It's a risk- no, not a risk…It's a sacrifice," and "Anyway, death is the only cure to growing older, right? Can't be so bad." Can't be so bad?! Was Potter insane?! Draco thought. This was just madness, and he would have to confront Potter tomorrow. He'd have to say something, no, do something about this idea of insanity brewing in Potter's pathetically thick skull. With that thought, Draco went to sleep as well, Potter's journal safely under his pillow.
Harry woke up bright and early in the morning, probably the result of going to sleep early. The sun was just coming up, its orange-y glow shining through the trees. Since his room mates were all still asleep, he decided to try to think of something to write in his journal. He reached into his bag, but it wasn't there. As much as he sifted through the many things in his bag, he could not find his journal? Where had it gone? He never thought he would lose it. How could he lose it? That journal was important to him! He needed it, to get out his feelings and thoughts that he didn't much care to share with Ron or Hermione, or even Dumbledore. He had to find it.
After breakfast, Harry, and Ron headed to the dungeons for another wonderful lesson with Professor Grease-Head. Hermione had finished breakfast early as usually and left before them, as usual. Snape wasn't in the classroom yet, he was probably just now leaving the Great Hall. When Harry sat down, the first thing he did was look under the table for his journal. It wasn't there. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he was staring straight into a pair of dull gray ones.
"What is it, Draco?" Harry asked. He just wasn't in the mood today for an argument with the arrogant Heir of The Malfoy family.
"Well I was just wondering, are you, by any chance, looking for something?" Malfoy inquired, that too-proud Slytherin smirk etched on his face.
Harry's face lost all signs of depression and intolerance that were just there, and his expression became perfectly blank. But it wasn't like that for long.
"Give it here, Malfoy, or I'll hex you straight into the Hospital Wing." Harry said quietly, so that no one else could hear.
"Don't jump to conclusions, Potter!" Draco said, still smirking. "I didn't say I had what you're missing. Of course, I do have it, but I'm offended that you would accuse me like that!"
Now Harry was loosing his temper. His face was tomato-red, and he could hear his head throbbing in anger at the Slytherin's sarcasm. He stood up and grabbed Draco by the neck of his robes.
"Give me my journal now. Or you will be very sorry you didn't." Harry said through gritted teeth.
"Let me go, Potter, no need to get all touchy, feely. I'll give you your little book, if you meet me tonight, 3rd floor, girl's lavatory, you know, the one nobody ever uses. Now, let me go."
Harry still held on to Draco's robes. The whole class was looking at them, but they couldn't hear what they were saying. What with both of their expressions being somewhat calm, Harry holding Draco by his robes (and rather closely at that), and the fact that they were communicating in whispers, the whole class might be thinking they were having an intimate moment with each other. Ugh, the idea made Harry want to throw up. He let go of Draco's robes and shoved him away. At that moment, Snape walked in.
"Mr. Potter, 30 points from Gryffindor! You do not push your classmates. Are you alright, Draco?" Snape said.
"Fine, sir," Draco said, and took his seat.
Snape didn't see it, but Draco looked at Harry on his way back to his seat, and mouthed one word: 'Midnight'.
Neither Ron nor Hermione said anything about Harry's confrontation with Draco. He had almost let himself become comfortable enough to think that it would stay this way. Almost. Then, Ron ruined it at dinner time.
"So, Harry, how come you haven't told us what that thing with you and Malfoy was about in Potions?" Ron asked after he had finished his filling up his 3rd plate with food.
Hermione looked disapprovingly at Ron for the accusatory way he had asked Harry the question. Harry composed himself and got ready to lie.
"Oh, that. Well it really isn't anything important. Nothing you guys need to bother yourselves over," he said.
"Didn't look like it was unimportant in class when you were grabbing Malfoy by his robes," Ron muttered audibly.
"Ron!" Hermione butted in. "If Harry says it's not important, there's no need to go on accusing him. Draco antagonizes Harry almost everyday, isn't that right Harry? Do you remember the time when-"
"Yeah, Hermione." Harry said firmly. "Can you pass me the turkey legs?" He asked, determined to change the subject.
Later on that evening, at about half-past 9, Harry and Hermione sat alone in the Gryffindor common room. Ron had decided to go up to bed about an hour ago, when Hermione suggested he work on some homework. Hermione had her face buried in a book most of the time, but she kept glancing up at Harry. It was as if she was waiting for him to get up and go to bed. Well, okay, if that's what she was waiting for…
At 11:00 P.M., Harry stood up. Hermione quickly pulled herself out of the book, and focused on him. "Going to bed?" She asked.
"Yeah. It's getting late. You should head up too, 'Mione. Don't want to be drowsy during any classes, do you?" "I guess you're right," she sighed. "I guess I'll have to finish this tomorrow," she said holding up the book.
"Goodnight, Harry."
"'Night, Hermione."
And Harry started trudging up the stairs to the boys dorms, as Hermione made her way to the girls'.
Ron was fast asleep in his bed, so Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak from his trunk, and soundlessly snuck back down stairs. He draped the cloak evenly over his head before climbing out the portrait hole.
Luckily, because he had so stupidly forgotten the Marauders map (what a git he was…),Harry met neither Filch, Mrs. Norris, or any teachers along his way to the 3rd floor. He slipped into the girl's bathroom.
Draco appeared not to have noticed him come in, probably something to do with the invisibility cloak. He was finger combing his white-blond hair, looking into a mirror. As he got closer, Harry smelled something like…perfume. It smelled sweet but fierce at the same time. Surely Draco wasn't wearing perfume? He was a guy! But that definitely wasn't guy's cologne.
Harry stood right behind Draco in the mirror, and swiftly took off the cloak. Draco jumped so much that he accidentally messed up his hair. He slapped Harry's arm, not hard, and started struggling to flatten it again. Harry started laughing.
"What's so funny, Potter?" Draco asked heatedly.
"It's just…not only do you smell like a girl, but you slap like one too," Harry said sniggering.
"Did you just say I smelled like a girl?!"
"That's what I said," Harry replied.
Draco blushed, "This was expensive perfume, okay?! And the guy kind doesn't smell as good!" He said defensively.
"Alright, alright," Harry said, "Can I just get my journal back? You didn't read all of it did you?"
Draco looked away. "Well, not all of. It was kind of boring. But, I read some of it, and I need to talk to you about something I read."
Oh no, Harry thought. What would Draco want to talk about? Did he know Harry's plan?
He pulled the book out of his robe pocket, and Harry had the sudden urge to make a grab for it and run, but he didn't.
Draco flipped through the pages until he reached Harry's latest entry in the journal.
"It sounds like you plan on committing suicide, Potter. That would be awfully stupid of you, you know."
"I wasn't planning to kill myself, Malfoy."
"Then what is this 'sacrifice'?" Draco asked suspiciously.
"Why would I tell you, of all people?" Harry said. The idea was truly ridiculous.
"I need to know, Harry!"
"Oh it's 'Harry' now, is it?" Harry asked smiling. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Oh, and just so you know," Harry said, "You'll never know."
"That's what you think, Potter. But remember this: The secrets in life that aren't meant to be told, are meant to be found out. And I will find out." He handed Harry the journal, and left.
