Warning: Yaoi (homosexual themes), don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter… Or Draco Malfoy for that matter. sighs

(AN: this is sixth year… Slughorn does not exist.)

--(Now, on with the show)--

Harry Potter and the One At Fault

-Potions and the Past-

Harry tossed and turned, plagued by visions of his past, and recent events. Suddenly he woke, covered in a sheen of sweat, his body shaking uncontrollably. Taking a few deep breaths, Harry calmed himself down to a somewhat normal state.

After deciding that he would not be able to fall back asleep any time soon, the teen crept out of his four-poster bed and down to the common room as silently as he could. As the raven-haired boy walked toward the fireplace he saw a familiar mop of curly brown hair peeking over one of his favorite armchairs. He chuckled quietly and sat in the chair next to Hermione's.

"What are you doing out here so late? It's well past midnight." Harry asked, glancing over at his friend.

Hermione smiled, holding up some brightly colored yarn with a pair of needles. "I'm making some more hats and sweaters for the house elves…" While she was speaking, Hermione's hands never stopped in their hurried motions to craft the little garments. Harry listened to her continue, "Ron, he's stupid you know. He thinks it's a lost cause. I was so angry with him at supper. Stupid prick…" Harry grimaced, recalling the heated discussion while Hermione attempted to take her anger out on the poor hat she was trying to make. Harry, not really paying attention to his fuming companion, thought their argument had been rather childish. Well, childish for Hermione at least. Perhaps- perhaps it had been a "lovers tiff". He smiled inwardly at the thought. It made sense, but he wasn't sure.

Harry then decided to speak, his voice barely above a mumble. "Yes, I noticed you were a little… frustrated." He then stared at his now bare feet, not really knowing where to take the conversation. Hermione winced apologetically, "I'm sorry Harry. I didn't mean for you to get involved. I'll still help you with your essay during lunch if you'd like."

A slight wave of relief washed over Harry. "Thanks 'Mione, that'd be great. I'm way too tired to do it myself." His voice drifted off into a low mumble again, but not going unnoticed by his friend. Hermione stopped knitting and looked him over.

"Yes, you look right awful Harry. What's wrong?" Said boy sighed, slouching back into the plush, red chair, letting his head droop to the side a bit. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, "Nothing really. Just the same nightmares… always the same." His voice came out as a whisper yet again. After carefully setting her knitting down, Hermione got up and placed a small hand on the stressed teens shoulder. "Which one Harry? Do you want to talk about it?" Harry squeezed his eyes shut at the memory. His voice came out hushed, almost quivering. "Ripper… The cage one. I… I don't want to talk about it." Hermione sighed giving him a small hug.

"Alright, well I'm going off to bed now, don't stay up all night." And after picking up her unfinished hat, Hermione then retreated to the girl's dormitories, leaving the boy who lived to drown in his thoughts.

Harry took a few shaky, deep breaths, watching the fire as the flames licked the sides of the fireplace. His heart suddenly lurched, recalling a once fond memory. "Sirius," he whispered, "I need you…" Then he allowed a single tear to drop to fall from his burning eyes, already hating the way the salty water caressed his cheek.

Wiping the brackish substance away, Harry sighed. He was bloody exhausted. But then again, from all that had happened lately, how could he not be? Yet, as much as his reeling mind urged him to stay awake (both out of fear, and confusion), Harry soon found himself staring into the blackness of his eyelids as they drooped shut, letting him fall back into sleep once more.

--

Harry awoke to a familiar voice calling him. Harry groaned inwardly. Five more minutes! That's all he wanted. Was five bloody minutes really too much to ask fore! When he refused to open his eyes, Ron shook him hard, and Harry snapped his eyes open in an instant.

"Bloody hell, I'm up! Jeez…" Harry winced as he felt a head splitting migraine to pulse through temple. Ron, noticing his discomfort, scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

Ron looked sympathetic, quickly beginning to mumble an apology. "Sorry mate, but if you want breakfast you'll need to hurry up and get ready. Everyone's mostly done eating." Harry groaned and forced himself out of the chair. Falling asleep a second time had not helped to dispel him from his night terrors. If anything, they had come to eat at him with a renewed vigor, and now he felt like a hollow shell. He sighed, beginning to trudge his way up to the boys' dormitory. It was going to be a long day.

--

"Get off your arse and go grab some breakfast! You're late!" Draco woke immediately to the shrill voice and shot straight up. He whimpered in pain. Apparently, that potion had been VERY weak indeed.

"Pansy, please, not so loud!" Pansy opened the door; she had a concerned look plastered on her face. Draco mentally sighed as he watched the girl come to stand just before his bed. Great, now he had to console her.

"Are you alright Draco? Normally you're the first one up." Her voice had dropped to a soft, and rather uncharacteristic whisper, "Did something happen?"

Draco immediately recoiled, "No. Nothing happened. You don't need to worry." Pansy giggled and plopped onto his outrageously large bed. He watched as she further mussed up his sheets, reminding him of last night's activities.

"But you're like a sister to me! I have to worry about you!" Draco glared at the jubilant girl. She always teased him about being oh-so feminine, and being as close to him as she was, Pansy saw fit to call him 'sister'.

Smirking lightly Draco spoke, his voice laced with slight humor, "And you're like a brother to me, Butch." Pansy stuck her tongue out at Draco childishly and put her hands on her hips. Before she spoke, Pansy snickered nefariously. "I'm no lesbian. Besides, Blaise Zabini wants me SO bad!"

She smirked. Pansy had been toying with Blaise's emotions for well over a year now, and it was evident to the entire school that it was driving Blaise insane… Well, more than he was already. But her face turned more serious again as she asked, "Really though Draco, you look awful." She cupped his face with her hands, causing Draco to wince. Seeing this, Pansy moved back some of the hair covering his cheek. She gasped as the sickening, multicolored bruise was exposed. Draco shoved her away and turned his head, hoping to hide his wound, but Pansy wouldn't have it.

"Draco! Did HE do this?" He knew she was about to cry. "Did he hurt you again?"

"I told you I'm fine! Can you leave now so I can get ready?" He regretted how harsh his words sounded Pansy was his best friend, and even Draco knew that was NOT how one spoke to a best friend. But Draco said nothing more as she walked to his door, stopping shortly to speak once more.

"I'm… I'm so sorry Draco. We'll stop him one day, I promise." She then walked out and closed the door softly behind her.

Draco sighed. Stop him? How could they? What could they do? He himself had tried to defy him, and look what happened. He got beaten to a bloody pulp.

Swinging his legs over the end of the bed, Draco flinched again in great pain. Urging his body to move, he pushed himself off the ruffled sheets, each step he took more painful than the last. Today was going to be a long day.

--

Harry hastily sprinted down the corridor towards the dining hall. As he ran, he heard footsteps quickly approaching. He looked up in time to see a familiar blond haired boy before they both came crashing into one another, both plummeting to the cold marble floor in an instant.

Draco looked up, nursing his already wounded cheek. Seeing Harry, his face was instantly flushed. "W-watch where you're g-going, Potter!" Draco stuttered, standing rather quickly and running to his seat at the Slytherin's table.

Recovering from shock, Harry stumbled over to the Gryffindor table. He looked around and counted seven students. The raven-haired teen could never remember it being so empty. There were three Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff, a young Slytherin, Draco and himself. Harry watched Draco as the blond picked at his barely filled plate. His eyes skimmed over the Slytherin's small form, checking for any signs of injury, but the young Malfoy had covered most of his skin.

Draco felt eyes upon him and looked up to meet a pair of emerald colored orbs. Harry and Draco stared at each other for a while, and the raven-haired boy watched as the blond's face begin to color, before the flushed teen turned away completely.

Harry sighed and ate quickly. He didn't have the energy or time to deal with this right now. After practically inhaling his breakfast, Harry gathered his things and hurried towards his first class of the day. He just wanted to get this day over with as quickly as he possibly could. Unfortunately, life was being particularly cruel to the scarred boy.

--

Harry smiled at Professor McGonagall and took his seat, waiting for the lesson to begin. Even after six years, Harry enjoyed taking Transfiguration (though it was still one of his more challenging classes). Professor McGonagall always managed kept things fresh and exciting, and he could always look forward to having class with his House Head.

Harry watched as the last of the students filed in. He frowned when he saw Draco entered among them, his head bowed slightly as he took his seat in front of Goyle. Damn. He had forgotten that Slytherins were with them on Mondays.

The first half of the class went by uneventfully. Professor McGonagall coughed to silence the frustrated mumbles of attempted spells and flicked her wand. Instantly, notes appeared on the board, and the students hurried to get them copied. Harry was just finishing the last line when he heard Goyle's awed voice ring out, filling the once silent classroom.

"Jeez Draco! What's on your neck?" Everyone's attention turned towards the blond as Draco's head whipped around allowing him to glare at the oaf.

"Shut up Goyle!" But by turning around, Draco had given the entire class a view of his neck.

Harry stared in shock. A huge purple welt in the shape of a handprint covered most of the revealed flesh. His unmarred skin was such a startling contrast to the bruise, that Harry thought it was almost a pity for the soft porcelain to be discolored. Draco's face had quickly drained of the little color it possessed, and turned slowly back around, ignoring the whispers. He trained his eyes onto his wrinkled parchment, not daring to look up. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat once more and added a few more notes to the board.

"When you finish these, you may go." Everyone looked at Professor McGonagall in shock. She had never let them out early before. The students wrote furiously for a few minutes, then gathered their things and burst out the door. Harry, however, lagged behind long enough to hear Professor McGonagall say, "Draco, I would like for you to stay a moment." Harry turned to Ron and Hermione speaking quickly, "You guys go ahead. I'm going to use the extra class time to talk to McGonagall about some Auror requirements…" It was a lame excuse and he knew it, but Ron and Hermione seemed happy to accept it. Harry shook his head. He wasn't blind. He knew they enjoyed their… 'Alone time'. Hermione smiled at Harry.

"See you in potions then." Ron pretended to slit his throat and the three laughed. When the duo left, Harry walked to the doorway of his last class. He peered in and saw Draco standing with his fists clenched, glaring at the older woman.

"I told you it's nothing. I... Fell!" Draco's voice cracked and he seemed to be pleading with her to leave him alone. But McGonagall wasn't one to let things go, least of all something like this. She persisted in her questioning, "Draco, I need to know if a student did this to you. Or… Even a teacher." She put a hand on his shoulder and he flinched.

"Well it wasn't." Draco stared at the ceiling and Professor McGonagall sighed, by chance glancing at the door, and seeing Harry.

"Is there something you need, Mr. Potter?" The Professor stressed, obviously already past irritation. Draco's head whipped around, and his face flushed yet again when he saw the taller adolescent standing there.

Draco quickly made his way to the other student. A he walked past, Draco grabbed Harry's arm, whispering into his ear. "Don't tell." And in an instant, he was gone.

Harry's hand slowly rose to his ear. His neck tingled and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at the teen, slightly annoyed that he had provided Draco with the distraction he needed to slip away.

"I'm sorry Professor; I didn't realize you were having an important conversation." He lied. She looked at him sternly.

"Mr. Potter, do you or your friends happen to know who harmed Mr. Malfoy?" Her beady eyes scrutinized him, almost as if conveying her thoughts to him through her stare.

Catching on to what she was suggesting, Harry spoke, "Professor, I assure you that none of us laid a hand on him." He forced a small smile. "I was just going to ask about OWL requirements for Aurors, but I didn't know you were busy, and I should really be heading down to the dungeons for potions. Can I stop by to see you some other time?" She nodded her head curtly.

"That would be fine. Good day, Mr. Potter." Rushing out of the doorway, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and left for his next class, glad to have avoided trouble.

He reached the classroom with five minutes to spare, though everyone else had arrived and seated themselves. Snape eyed him distastefully, "Five points from Gryffindor. You're tardy Potter." Harry frowned, still standing in the doorway, "But I-"

"Ten Potter, if you don't shut up." Harry sighed; he didn't feel like arguing with the greasy haired man today. His eyes scanned the room for an empty stool. At last, his eyes fell upon the only one available, which was (as fate would have it) right next to Malfoy. He groaned loudly and the class laughed. They knew of the teen's hatred for the blond - hatred that was evenly met. Harry sighed and collapsed into the stool glaring at Snape. The Potion's Master should have known that the two couldn't handle being this close. Harry picked at the table, while Draco stared at his hands, suddenly finding his cuticles very interesting.

"Now, I want you to follow the instructions on the board very carefully. If you don't work well with your partner, you might screw things up, and you do NOT want to find out what happens when you screw things up." The class glanced at Harry and Draco's cauldron nervously. Dean laughed.

"Don't blow us up guys, I have to live to ask Ginny out again." Everyone in the class roared with laughter, except Ron, who was glaring at Dean, while Draco glared at Harry, who was in turn, glaring at Snape. The potions master, of course, glared at all of them.

After a moment, Harry and Draco's gazes altered, and the boys stared at each other almost fearfully, causing the class to laugh louder.

"Quiet." Snape said coolly, effectively silencing his class. "You may begin now." And with that, the class scrambled to get their ingredients listed on the board. When Draco made no move to get up, Harry grunted.

"I'll get everything I guess. Get the cauldron ready." Harry then hopped off the stool and went to the cupboards. Hermione walked up to him and grabbed his arm, "Harry, are you going to be able to work with him? You didn't exactly get much sleep last night." Harry sighed and grabbed some bizarre looking roots, mumbling what he thought to be a sufficient answer, "I'll be fine… I think." And he walked back to Draco. He handed Draco some flasks of suspicious looking liquids.

"Stir these in," Harry demanded, "the directions are on the right side of the board. I'll chop these up." This was like a replay of their third year when Draco "couldn't use his arm". Draco gave only a small nod of acknowledgment before starting his task. After a few minutes of uncanny silence, Harry heard small mutter.

"Did you say something?" Harry asked. Draco's cheeks tinted. "You… You're cutting the roots too big, they have to be smaller." The shorter teen muttered quietly. Harry glared at Draco before cutting said roots into minuscule pieces, "There. I fixed them. Shouldn't you be paying more attention to your job? You need to start stirring the other way now. Worry about yourself." Draco frowned.

"Hypocrite." Harry froze and immediately turned slowly to face Draco. Said boy was now staring at his shoes yet again, and blushing profusely. Harry was getting annoyed with his constant fascination with his shoes. He scowled, "Did you want me to just leave you there?!" Draco looked up at Harry, conflicting emotions flickering across his face. Draco's eyes searched Harry's, seeking something.

Soon, Draco sighed softly, not meeting the raven haired boy's jade stare, "You shouldn't have even seen that. That…that was… Our business, not yours. You-" Harry cut him off, "Would you rather I had done NOTHING?!"

"N-no! I never said I wasn't grateful, I thanked you didn't I?" Draco bit his lip, daring to continue, "Look, Harry, I'm glad you did what you did - but, please, PLEASE leave it at that. Don't get involved. You wouldn't understand, I mean, this sort of thing happens all the time in my family, it's just… Our business." He repeated looking up at the taller teen.

Harry smiled painfully. "What makes you think I wouldn't understand?" He turned and grabbed a flask full of their finished potion and walked to Snape's desk before Draco could reply.

The blond really didn't know what to say. If he asked what Harry meant, he would sound stupid. Not only that, but he would be prying into Harry's personal business. If Harry really did understand what he was going through, than he probably wouldn't want to talk about it. Draco shuddered. His life was bad enough; he knew that he certainly didn't enjoy sharing it with others. Pansy had been an - no, the exception. He had needed her… But maybe, maybe Harry needed him.

Draco laughed and pushed the idea out of his head. He was jumping to conclusions; major conclusions. Harry's life seemed so perfect. He was loved by most of the school, and had really great friends that were like family. Not to mention he was good looking. A faint, almost invisible blush tinted Draco's face at the thought, before he corrected himself. No, Harry was good looking for a guy. Yeah- for a guy. It's not like he was attracted to Harry. That'd be weird right? Besides he hated the damn prick.

Draco sighed dejectedly. What was he supposed to say anyway? Harry would be back soon, and he still had no idea as to how to respond to his former statement. It's not like Draco could just start chatting with him and casually ask him about his family life. NOTHING with the two teens was casual. But before the troubled blonde could even begin to conjure up some sort of counter statement, Harry chose to walk back to their table.

As he approached the table, Harry could feel a pair of eyes on him. Looking back to his partner, he soon found the culprit. "Why are you staring at me like that Malfoy?" Harry questioned. Draco (after all this time), still didn't know what to say, and he began to ramble aimlessly, "Y-you think you can do and say whatever you want just because you're Harry Potter, and you have that stupid scar."

Much to Draco's surprise, Harry snickered, "Would you like a scar too?" He leaned close to the blond, and Draco suddenly felt his heart beat speed up. Harry was close, so close. TOO close!

Harry smiled evilly and continued. "Judging by last nights occurrences, I'm guessing you already have plenty of your own scars." Draco reeled back in shock and anger, pushing Harry away roughly. His eyes glittered with tears that were quickly blinked away before detection. Harry knew he had crossed the line, immediately blabbering out a sad excuse for an apology, "Draco, I'm sorry, I d-" But before he could finish, he was cut off by the enraged voice of Draco, "Screw you Potter! Your scar's stupid and ugly anyway." Draco spat out, his voice escalating.

Harry glared. "Whatever you dumb blond! Speaking of which, how long to you spend on your fucking hair anyway you pouf!" He yelled back. Draco scowled and put his hands on his hips. Harry smiled inwardly; Draco really did look feminine right now, all small and slender, his lips pouting so… Ah! Focus. Harry shook his head. Draco was a boy. NOT a girl.

He realized that Draco was still shouting at him. Something about his ugly old sweaters. Upon realizing that the shorter teen's words were indeed an insult, Harry fired back yet another venomous retort of his own, "Oh yeah?! Well hey everybody, I'm Draco Malfoy, and I'm a bouncing ferret!" Draco became flustered and was about to shout back when Hermione cleared her throat, voicing her own opinion, "I hate to interrupt your little argument, but do you realize that you are disturbing the class over the stupidest things I have ever heard come out of your mouths? I mean honestly-"

"Shut up!" Harry and Draco shouted at the same time. The class laughed at the two yet again, and Snape saw fit to step in, "I believe you are in class Mr. Potter. Another five points from Gryffindor." Harry clenched his hands tightly at his sides before forcing himself not to scream at the greasy haired professor. He sat down again, still fuming, waiting for class to be dismissed. The remaining moments left in class were uneventful, other than Dean, who blew his cauldron to bits, and was rushed to the hospital wing by a worried Seamus.

When class let out, Harry rushed out of the room. He was just about to catch up with Ron and Hermione when Blaise Zabini cornered him. "What's wrong Pot Head? You're acting like a girl on her rag." The Slytherins laughed. "Yep - just like a bitch in heat." He continued as he watched Harry's face redden. "All dogs are the same don't you think?" Blaise questioned his friends. Harry's fists clenched once again. They were talking about him again… Sirius.

Harry's face contorted in pain as Blaise continued, "All dogs deserve to die, or be caged. Locked. Up." At the word cage, Harry began to shake. He couldn't help it. His pupils dilated in fear. 'No cages, PLEASE, no more!' he frantically thought over and over. Blaise laughed; Harry knew he must look like chicken shit.

"Would you like to be caged Pot Head? We could have you locked up for good. You know… I don't think it's your fault you're fucked up Pot Head. I've been told it starts with the mum. Like my dad always said, if there's something wrong with the bitch, there's something wrong with the p-" Blaise wasn't able to finish his statement, because at that moment, Harry's fist decided to connect with the Slytherin's jaw. Harry pulled his arm back and punched him again, this time square on his nose.

"Y-you asshole!" Blaise stuttered. He was bleeding and a student was calling for Professor Snape. Ron had finally reached Harry and was holding his arms back, trying to calm him down. Hermione stood behind Ron, holding Harry's wand, as he had dropped it before he had punched Blaise. Ron tightened his grip as Harry began to struggle furiously, "Calm down mate!" Ron yelped as Harry elbowed him accidentally. Harry shook his head violently.

"I-I can't. He- No! No more cages, no more…" Harry shouted over and over. His eyes clouded with unshed tears, hidden by his thick black glasses, and black shaggy locks. He had never felt so ashamed.

The surrounding students were confused. Draco stood in the back of the crowd watching Harry curiously. He knew that Blaise had gotten him riled up over that Sirius bloke, but Harry hadn't started panicking until he mentioned the word 'caged'. Draco sighed and walked away. He wanted to eat lunch quickly so that he could talk to a friend.

Snape calmly watched from the background as he opened his mind, searching for Harry's. Disturbing images flashed by. The potion's master began to sweat, and when a sudden pain seared through his forearm, he hissed and grabbed the offended limb. Hearing his teacher, Harry looked up from his place in Ron's grasp.

Seeing Snape's position, he growled wildly, "Get. Out. OF MY HEAD!" Harry struggled more and shook his head as he felt the foreign mind in his subconscious fade away.

After a moment, he looked back up at his teacher. "I-I told you to stop, didn't I? I told you! It'll hurt you more than me anyway. You're not used to that type of pain." Students looked back and forth between their classmate and their teacher, even more puzzled. Snape cleared his throat and strode over to where the boys were standing, the air about him now calm and collected, as it normally was.

"Mr. Weasley, let go of Mr. Potter. Now, what happened here?" He asked coldly. All the Slytherins began to speak at once about how Harry "cornered" Blaise and punched him. Harry just looked away, knowing that he couldn't avoid punishment.

"Very well." Snape said arbitrarily, "Potter you are to report to the Headmaster immediately." Harry sighed, gathered his things, said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, and stormed off. When he got to the statue he spat out 'Lemon Drops'. He was bewildered when it stayed in place.

"He must've changed the password." He mumbled to himself. Suddenly the statue moved aside, and a spiral staircase was revealed. He figured Dumbledore must have opened it from the inside. He trudged up the stairs.

When he opened the door he found Dumbledore sitting at his desk, fiddling with an odd, purple contraption. After a few moments of nervous fidgeting, Harry cleared his throat. Dumbledore looked up and sighed.

"Sit down Harry." The headmaster ordered. And so, Harry sat. Dumbledore went on. " Please explain to me why one of my students is bleeding." Harry could tell he wasn't really mad, but couldn't help but feel reprimanded all the same.

"I… punched Blaise, Sir." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, leaning forward in his cushioned, purple chair, "Oh? I would have thought that at you, now at sixteen, would have grown up enough to work things out in other ways."

Harry looked down, ashamed, "He was talking about Sirius, Sir. I know I should have controlled myself - but… It just…" Harry trailed off, his voice fading away while his eyes turned toward the fading embers of the room's fireplace. Harry sighed poignantly, not wanting to continue.

"It hurt too much?" Dumbledore supplied. Harry swallowed the dry lump in his throat and looked up, "Yeah." He replied softly, his eyes once again drifting back to the dying fire.

Dumbledore nodded, "Well, Professor Snape wanted to dock you fifty points, but I convinced him to let it go with just a detention." Harry started to protest but Dumbledore held up a hand, "I'm sorry Harry, that's final. Now, is there anything else that's bothering you?" Harry closed his eyes and shook his head.

Dumbledore sighed, "The detention will be served when Professor Snape sees fit. He doesn't have time to fit you in right now. So, be prepared." Harry nodded, then paused, "Sir, how did you know what Professor Snape wanted? He's still-"

"I can always speak with the teachers, Harry. Professor Snape already told me what happened." Harry blanched. What if Snape told Dumbledore about what he had seen?!

"And… What… What did he say?" Harry asked, trying to mask the nervousness his voice now harbored.

The silver bearded man stood from his chair and made his way over to Harry. A he approached he began to speak, "He told me about the fight, and said something was bothering you; something OTHER than Sirius." Dumbledore put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry growled softly, "Sir, Professor Snape's been going in my head. I know it sounds-" He was cut off, "I know Harry." Dumbledore sighed. "I asked him to keep an eye on you since you didn't take well to the occlumency lessons." Before one could blink, Harry shot up and out of the chair, nearly knocking it over in the process. In his swift movement, he began voicing his opinion on the current matter at hand, "I don't want him in my head, Sir." Harry's eyes were hard, determined to make him understand.

Dumbledore just gave him a dreary smile, "Yes, well, Professor Snape doesn't want to be in your head either if it makes you feel any better."

Harry's emerald eyes flashed with anger, "Of course not, he hates me!" Fury continued to bubble its way through the young boy's veins. Dumbledore shook his head, "No Harry. That's not why he didn't want to see inside your head. There is so much more that you don't know, and yet, you persist in assuming things that may not in fact be true."

Harry closed his eyes and picked at his sleeve, not really wanting to accept the old man's words. "Harry, please tell me if something bothering you." Dumbledore pleaded. Harry could already feel the crystal blue eyes of the Headmaster boring into his skull. He had to tell the man something…

He looked up, his reply already spoken before he had time to process it in his mind. But if he had, he might have made it sound less cold as it came out, "I'm fine Sir, really, and I'll serve my detention when it's due. Have a good day." Harry quickly walked out and shut the door, but not before hearing a drawn out sigh, causing him to feel worse.

The raven-haired boy knew that he should get to lunch for help on his paper. It was, after all, due tomorrow. But… he needed a release from the unyielding pain that had been thrust upon him. He needed to just… go away. And upon exiting the spiral staircase, Harry turned down an empty corridor, and left for the one place he knew he could be alone.