Rolling Seasons
Chapter 2
"Hello, Harry," said Ms. Miranda.
Harry gave a loose nod in response to his school guidance counselor. Though he had been fortunate enough that his classmates were told nothing of his past, that fortune did not hold true with the school faculty. Thus, since the first week in his new school, he'd been attending counselor meetings twice a week during his free period.
"So, tell me about your week so far. You look a little tired." Harry resisted a chuckle, settling for a smirk. Oh, he was tired all right. Last night, he hadn't gone home till two in the morning, having been busy with… well, whatever that guy's name was. He couldn't quite remember. He could, however, remember that he'd had quite a fantastic time.
"Well?"
Harry shrugged. Ms. Miranda gave a frustrated sigh. "Alright, well let's start with something small, then. Talk to me about your classes. Have you improved your grades, yet?"
"I guess." I'd much rather think about other things… like last night, he thought to himself. He'd come home to see his mother asleep on the couch, waiting for him. The first few times he'd come home so late, his parents had both screamed at him. They'd told him he wasn't to do it again and that if he continued, they'd stop him from going out altogether. After a while, though, they'd been forced into a reluctant resignation.
Harry wouldn't listen to his parents. Their word meant nothing to him. Now, his father simply accepted Harry's late-night adventures and slept, while Lily also quietly accepted it, albeit, from the living room couch where she would wait for him to come home; to make sure that he did get home.
It hurt Harry sometimes, seeing his mother look so tired and small. When she was able to stay awake until he arrived, she would give a small sigh of relief before standing and walking to her room without hugging him(the first time she'd tried to hug him, he'd swiftly sidestepped her and walked away); without a word. The nights when she couldn't stay awake, Harry would be forced to look at the sad-looking figure – much like last night.
Sometimes he almost wanted to rest a hand on her shoulder and say, "Hey, everything's ok. We're alright." But then he'd force himself to remember why he never did, and everything would come flooding back to him.
"Well, how about your teachers?" Harry was brought back to the present and rolled his eyes. Of course she was asking about his teachers. She always asked about his teachers. Because, of course, since he'd fallen in love with someone who'd happened to be a teacher, he was, of course, going to date all other teachers, as well.
He refused to dignify the question with an answer. He couldn't blame her entirely, though. All the other teachers thought exactly the same way. What with the way they always kept just enough distance from him; the way they would talk to him without smiling too much or standing too closely. They didn't think he noticed. No, they didn't think his teenage mind was quite capable of noting such fine details.
"Any new friends?" she tried again. Yes, of course she wanted him to have friends. Why wouldn't she? Maybe then he would find a boyfriend to keep him away from the teachers. Or better yet, a girlfriend. Well, that particular thought wasn't completely fair. They'd spoken about Harry's sexuality before and she didn't look at that specific aspect of his life as a problem. In fact, she'd spoken to him about coming out to a few "friends" in the school, before. He, of course, had kindly declined.
"Would you like to talk about Draco?"
"No, I would not." Harry's vehement reply had slipped out before he'd taken the time to think.
"It seems that he still invokes quite a lot of emotion in you."
Though the brunette struggled to return to his former, cool façade, he couldn't keep the slight sneer off his lips.
"Harry, are the two of you still… in contact?"
"Sorry, but you'll have to accept my apology if I don't see that that's any of your business."
"I'm not trying to be nosy, Harry. I'm just trying to help."
"Funny. I don't quite remember asking for it."
"Excuse me, young man." She began in a low tone. "I may be trying to help you, but that most certainly does not give you the right to speak to me so rudely. Watch your tone."
Harry simply glared. There was nothing else he could do. He'd gotten her to this point before. Every once in a while, she'd just snap (well, as much as she ever snapped) and drop the eternally-loving counselor act. When that happened, she wasn't above giving him a detention or two.
After allowing a few minutes to wade through her anger, he asked, "Can I go? I have a physics test I'd like to study for."
Still too angry to speak, she simply tightened her lips and waved her hand dismissively – a silent "get out of my face."
"Screw studying," he later muttered to himself as he entered the boy's bathroom to sneak out through the window.
DHDHDH
"Yeah, back away, you little buggers," Paul quietly mumbled to Draco with a smirk as they walked, uninterrupted, through several groups of people on the way to their cells. Draco simply shook his head with a small smile.
Anyone else who had been in jail for as short an amount of time as them - less than a year - would have been roughly pushed around and brutally bullied. But with Smitty having claimed Draco his toy from the start, no one else dared touch him, or, for that matter, anyone with Draco, which was only ever Paul.
Still, there had been one unfortunate fool to ignore Smitty's claim. It had happened near the completion of Draco's first month in jail.
It had been a completely unnecessary fight, but then again, most fights in jail - as Draco had come to realize - were. One minute Draco had been walking over to see Paul in his cell, and the next, he was being shoved into a wall. "Sorry, did that hurt?" the man had asked with a laugh.
Not in the mood to get into trouble, Draco had simply swallowed back his tongue and started walking again. The man, however, didn't seem to be in the mood to let Draco get away quite so easily. He pushed him once again.
This time, Draco had acted on reflex and smacked the hand away. The man took this as his cue and, with an angry snarl of "Why, you little…", threw a heavy punch at the blonde's temple, leaving him sprawled across the floor. He had then proceeded to spit on the fallen blonde before muttering a chuckled, "bitch" and smugly walking off.
Unfortunately for the man, however, Smitty had witnessed the entire brawl.
The next day, he'd mysteriously turned up badly beaten and had been quickly sent to the hospital. Equally mysterious, Smitty had had to get his broken hand set in a cast. No one had touched Draco since.
"Ah, I love walking with you. I mean, you've got to admit, Draco, there is one good thing about that arse hole's obsession with you." Draco merely shrugged, his smile quickly disappearing. Though Paul didn't know the full extent to which Smitty took things out on his friend, he realized he'd gone too far and quickly changed the subject.
"So, we're still going to play a few rounds of cards tonight, right?"
"Yeah, though I don't see how you can still enjoy beating me after the seven millionth time."
"Oh, how greatly you underestimate the glory of victory, my friend."
With a snort, Draco walked into his cell and said, "Right. I'll see you later."
"See you."
Draco took a seat on his bed and contemplated taking a nap right on the spot. His cell was unlocked, however, and, protected by Smitty's claim or not, he still didn't feel comfortable being even slightly unaware of his surroundings during the day. So, instead, he gave a tired sigh and, after a moment of thought, bent down slightly and pulled a few loose-leaf papers and a pencil from underneath his mattress.
He tapped his pencil against one of the pages for a few moments, but no words came to mind. He hadn't written to Harry in many months, he knew, and Harry, in that time, had sent him at least three or four… none of which he'd replied to.
Draco had, of course, felt guilty, and after a month in which Harry had stopped writing him as well, he'd felt even worse, but the blonde simply couldn't find anymore words to say to his… boyfriend? Lover? Whatever it was that they were.
It had come so easily at first. He had immediately written Harry a letter, mailing it with the new house address Harry had given him, not even bothering to think of the consequences if one of his parents had found it first. He'd written of his continuing love for Harry and the great things that would come after he was let out, but the hope and optimism had slowly dissipated. As each new day passed in jail, it grew more and more difficult to keep his letters happy and confident.
He grew evermore frustrated, but he refused to write Harry anything less than cheerful. He knew the hardship Harry was going through with all the sudden changes, and he refused to add to that pain. But then, one dark night with Smitty, he'd lost every last shred of motivation.
And so, he'd simply stopped writing Harry.
For a while, he didn't even try. He simply went through his daily routine, dealt with Smitty's frequent interruptions, and went to bed. Then he'd wake up and start again.
After a few weeks, he'd decided it wasn't fair to Harry, and began trying. He'd lie awake at night for hours, figuring out what he'd write; what he'd tell Harry; how he could possibly word things to make them look for the better. By the time he fell asleep each night, he'd have the letter perfectly composed, word for word. But each time he actually held the pencil in his hand, nothing came out.
Every day, he told himself that today would be the day he'd write a letter to Harry, and every day, his thoughts proved false. That did not, however, stop this day from being another day in which he told himself that this day was the day he'd write Harry.
At the very least, he would write the opening line. Hey, Harry.
It was something. He bit the inside of his lip for a moment before continuing. It came slowly, but soon, he'd written a full sentence. And then a second, and a third, until he decided he'd reached the end of a full paragraph. He could do this, he thought to himself. He could write this letter.
But, as luck would have it, he was unable to get past the first word of his second paragraph.
Two large arms pressed down on the mattress on either side of Draco. A voice from behind whispered into his ear, "Well, what've we got here?"
Before Draco could think to pull the letter away, one of the large arms quickly snatched it away. Draco turned to glare at the person he already knew it to be - Smitty. "Give it back," he angrily seethed.
"I don't think I will, darling." Draco made a grab for it, but as always, was one second too slow, and the burly man easily sidestepped him. "Harry?" he asked mockingly. "And who could this possibly be? Hmm? Your lover, you little pouf?" chuckling to himself, he began to deridingly read the letter aloud. "I don't know what to say, exactly. I suppose 'I'm sorry' would be a start. I really am. I don't have a good excuse for not writing you. But I can tell you this: I miss you, and I love you more than…" Smitty suddenly stopped, his stance hardening, and his eyes narrowing fiercely. He continued the letter in his mind and as each word processed through his brain, he grew further enraged.
Draco, too frightened to move, could do nothing but sit in silent prayer as he watched Smitty's anger bring panic-inducing trembles throughout his body.
When it seemed that the enraged man had finally finished reading the unfinished letter, he turned his gaze to glare at Draco. The stare sent chills through the blonde.
DHDHDH
Harry sauntered easily into the bar. "Well, hello, Tom," he said, taking a seat at the bar.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Well, someone's certainly in a nasty bit of a mood, today."
"It's 1:30 on a Thursday. Why the hell aren't you in school?"
"I ditched," the young brunette replied with a shrug.
"Get out."
"What?"
"I said, 'get out.' Get up, get out, and get your fucking ass back in school."
"I can't. Everyone there's a piece of fucking shit."
"Well I'm sure as hell not gonna treat you any better."
"Oh, come on, Tom." He began to whine with a pout. "This is the first time I've ever even skipped!"
"And it's gonna be the last one, too. In fact, it's not even going to count as an entire incident, since you're getting your ass back in school right now." Tom said lightly, an easy smile on his lips, and a deathly glare in his eyes.
"You're kidding."
A narrowing of the bartender's eyes was his only reply.
DHDHDH
"Well, you're just a nasty little whore, aren't you?" Smitty snarled, stepping closer to the trembling form. "You're just a bloody slut," he continued, barking the last word. Draco gave a slight start, leaning back in an attempt to distance himself from the seething beast.
"I think maybe I'll have to teach you a little lesson." The whisper grabbed a chilling hold on the blonde and jaggedly ripped into him, freezing his innards until, with the angry crumbling of the letter, he was left completely immobile.
DHDHDH
Scoffing, Harry stood to stomp out angrily. How dare Tom kick him out? What the bloody hell was he supposed to do now? He wasn't left questioning for very long, however.
A man walking in locked eyes with the shorter boy. Harry smiled slyly to himself.
Not only was the man impossibly handsome - with stylishly gelled hair and sapphire-blue eyes - , but for once, he actually seemed to be much closer to Harry's own age - well, closer, that is, than any of the guys Harry had recently been with. The man couldn't be any older than, perhaps, twenty-seven, possibly younger.
Quite a delightful treat. How could Harry resist? After all, he had nothing else to do for the rest of the day.
With a smirk, he sent the man an inviting wink.
DHDHDH
Smitty gave Draco's collar a painful jerk and propped the fairer man against the wall with a painful thud.
Grabbing a tight hold of the blonde's hair, he gave a sharp yank, eliciting a pained hiss from his victim, before pressing his body tightly against the other. His sour breath scraped over Draco, filling his nostrils with a burning sensation, and his every touch made the blonde want to shrink away in disgust.
He ghosted his lips over Draco's before breathing in deeply as he moved along the other man's jaw and up to his ear. "I'm going to make you wish you'd never met that slimy bastard, Harry," he chewed out the final word disgustedly. "In fact, I'm going to make sure you never even so much as think about that little fucker again." And with that, he forcefully flipped Draco's form, shoving his face into the wall, and reaching for his pants.
DHDHDH
"Let's get out of here."
"I'm sorry?" asked the man, slightly confused.
"You do want me, don't you?"
"I…er…I was…just going to-"
"Fuck me into bloody oblivion."
The man stopped just short of a squeak before finally giving a raucous laugh. "Well, aren't you one for euphemisms."
"No sense in beating around the bush. So, what do you say? You got a place around here?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Perfect."
The brunette looped his arm through the other man's, and the two strolled out of the bar without another glance back.
A/N: … I cannot tell you how unbelievably hard it was for me to sit down and type this out. For the longest time, it was just another filler chapter with some questions being answer, which pissed me off to no end, so… after much plotting out and rewriting, I've managed to make this into an actual non-filler chapter. Wow. I hope you guys enjoyed it. I actually do like the content I've put into this one - even though sometimes it feels a bit too dark for my own taste.
Anyway, it's 2:30 in the morning, and I'm too tired to write too much more, so I'm just going to give a quick apology for the format of the chapter and go to bed: I guess I saw the quick changes between Harry and Draco towards the end of the chapter like a movie in my head with quick scene flashes, but I don't think I was able to bring it through in writing, so… sorry? I don't know. I'm really tired.
It's just really difficult to write the chapters smoothly since Harry and Draco both have two completely different stories for me to write. Hopefully, I'll figure out a way to better format the next chapter.
As always, please review!! (And thank you for all the wonderful reviews I've already received! I appreciate them so unbelievably much. There have been a lot of questions, but they'll all answer themselves as the story goes on.)
xoxo Spideria xoxo
