I don't own Harry Potter. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the story!
Harry James Potter walked into the Great Hall. All eyes turned to him and all voices dropped to quiet whispering. Harry, being the boy who lived, was used to the whispers and rumors being thrown around. Now, however, it was different. The stares were cold, the whispers were bitter, and the rumors he heard were vicious.
He walked to his usual spot at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione, who looked at him with concern. Ron was not speaking to him again and Hermione was the only one he could go to without getting his head bitten off.
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione nervously muttered as if he would stand up and off himself any moment. He gave the same answer every time.
"I'm fine, 'Mione." The words were laced with misery. Something light hit him in the back of the head and they both turned around to see none other than Draco Malfoy smirking back at them. Harry looked down to see what Draco threw and saw it was a crumpled up newspaper. The headline was one that he'd seen a million times; "The Boy Who Lies?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at Malfoy and focused Harry's attention back to her.
"Ignore them, Harry. They'll believe whatever rubbish the Daily Prophet publishes." Harry slowly nodded his head in agonizing agreement. Malfoy messed with him all the time, but for some reason this was different, it actually mattered to Harry. It actually hurt. How could he just ignore it when his heart ached every furious whisper and ever biting remark?
"I'll catch up with you later, Hermione. I'm going to the library." Harry started towards the doors and was already halfway out of them when Hermione realized that Harry only went to the library to find her or for exams, and exams weren't for a few months.
"Harry, wait, you never go to the library!" Hermione called after him, but he didn't slow down his pace. She knew something was wrong, but figured he just needed time to himself. The library was the only quiet place for him that wasn't completely dangerous.
He made it to the library with few harsh words carelessly spat at him. He plopped down at his usual table and let out a sigh of relief as he let the silence surround him. He dropped his head in his hand and propped his elbows up on the table and was reading the scribbled words on it that nobody cared enough to clean up. It was mostly just initials and song lyrics that littered the table and to Harry, it was nice to read what others though about when it wasn't directed towards him in anger. He was so transfixed by the scribbled doodle on the table that he didn't notice the trio of boys approaching.
"Saint Potter, are you finally getting what you deserve?" Malfoy sneered. Harry groaned loudly with frustration as he recognized the voice.
"Malfoy, how did you know I was in here?" Harry looked up, but didn't acknowledge the other boys, Crabbe and Blaise; because he knew it would piss Crabbe off beyond belief. They were only really there for intimidation on Malfoy's behalf and they stopped intimidating Harry when he came face to face with Voldemort for the first time.
"The question, Scarhead, is why I'm here, not how I knew you were here." Malfoy looked at his friends and gave them a nod towards the door, dismissing them from the room. They left without a question and Malfoy pinned Harry with his gaze.
"Look, could you piss off? I'm not in the mood to deal with you." Harry returned his head to his hands and waited for his rival to have mercy and go away, but he hadn't heard footsteps. Instead, he heard the chair across from his scrape against the floor and the contact of butt to chair as Draco sat down with a loud sigh.
"Harry, I need to know… I need you to tell me…" Draco had never been one to struggle with words, but he also had never spoken to Harry in a civilized manner. It had only ever been snide comments and witty remarks with them, sometimes even blunt insults.
"What the bloody hell are you babbling about?" Harry looked across from him and into the eyes of Draco Malfoy once again. Draco had a worried look on his face, one that Harry had only seen when Draco was about to get punched by Hermione in third year.
"Is he… The Dark Lord, is he really back?" Draco whispered to prevent anyone in the library from hearing and Harry had almost missed the question. He let out an obnoxiously loud laugh at the panicked look on Draco's face.
"Oh, don't act like you don't know. You're next in line to be a death eater and everyone knows it." Harry fixed Draco with a look and Draco felt something clench at his heart.
Harry might not ever believe Draco even if Draco told him a million times that he didn't want to be a death eater. Harry's reaction told him all he needed to know about the truth of Voldemort's return and Draco had never been so terrified.
"Harry, I need your help."