Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Harry Potter, JK Rowling owns it all. I make no money from this story.
A/N: Hey again! I know, I know, I should be updating something else, but I'm so into this right now, and I'm really happy with the feedback from this! It's wonderful! Thanks for all the reviews!
Anyway, I thought I'd get this up soon, so here it is!
Ch. 2.
Soft, gentle touches on his body. Wet lips trailing across his neck. A whisper of breath on his skin. The movement above him was insistent and slightly painful, yet loving and welcomed.
Harry sighed in happiness and looked up into caring brown eyes.
Harry's bright green eyes snapped open, searching through the dim light in his tiny bedroom. Sighing, he realised that it had just been a dream. A dream that was once a reality.
Rolling over, he grabbed his glasses and put them on, glancing at the clock. Seeing that it was half past six, he decided to get up.
Climbing in the shower, Harry reflected on the previous day. After Dumbledore had promised to look into the art situation, Harry had been allowed to spend the rest of the double period in the library, where he'd finished his science notes.
Halfway home, he'd called into a grocery shop for an apple since his stomach had started to hurt. The doctor had warned him against going too long between snacks, and had advised him to eat small and light every couple of hours, rather than three meals a day. No chance of that at the Dursley's, but now that Harry was sixteen, he had access to the money his parents had left him. Knowing that he should save for his future, Harry promised to himself that he would only withdraw small amounts at a time, to make life easier for himself.
After eating his apple during the rest of his walk, Harry arrived home and snuck up to his room. He had no homework, but he fancied a short nap as the first day had made him tired.
At half five, Harry had gone downstairs to make dinner. His aunt was watching television in the living room with Dudley, who had taken longer than Harry to walk home due to his size. Vernon, who had gone to work after enrolling the boys, would be home at six, and would expect his meal to be ready at the end of the news.
Sure enough, Vernon came straight to the table at half past six, where Harry was placing two large plates of toad-in-the-hole and vegetables. Returning to the kitchen, he brought out Petunia's slightly smaller plate and a jug of gravy, before producing his own small scoop of vegetables, one sausage, and the last of the batter. His portion was only a quarter the size of his uncle and cousin's, but he was used to it.
After the meal, Harry cleaned the kitchen, and was about to head back upstairs when Dudley dropped the bombshell.
"Dad, Harry made a scene in art today," he said conversationally. "He refused to do the work and ran out of class."
"BOY!" Vernon thundered.
Harry winced and entered the living room. He was only allowed in there when invited.
"Yes sir?" he asked, eyes trained on the floor.
"What do you think you are doing, you little freak, showing us up at school?" his uncle roared. "Making a scene! You should be keeping your head down. I don't want you attracting more trouble!"
"I'm sorry sir, I had an attack during art," Harry mumbled. "I couldn't deal with the situation, and handled it badly."
"That's no excuse!" his uncle had gone purple. "I don't want you showing us up!"
"I'm truly sorry sir," Harry pleaded. "I spoke with the headmaster, and he's said he'll try to find a solution that will allow me to stay calmer."
"Well, it'd better not happen again, or there'll be trouble!" Vernon warned.
"Yes, sir," Harry muttered obediently.
"Get to your room, I don't want to see or hear you until morning!" Vernon had already turned back to the television.
Harry had trudged back upstairs and revised his notes, before falling asleep.
Finishing his shower, Harry dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist while he returned to his room. Mindful of the broken hinge, Harry carefully opened the door to his small, battered wardrobe.
Rifling through his clothes, he emerged with boxers and socks (neither of which had ever belonged to Dudley, thank god. Petunia didn't like the idea of passing down underwear, and Harry's feet were smaller then Dudley's), old blue jeans that were far too big, and a green t-shirt, whose sleeves hung to Harry's elbows.
Turning away from the mirror to avoid catching sight of the large, ugly scars on his stomach and chest, Harry pulled the clothes on and brushed his hair. Opening the curtains, he saw that the day was dawning warm and bright, so there was no chance of him wearing a jumper to hide his wrists.
Going back to the wardrobe, Harry pulled out a blue jumper to tie around his waist, just in case, and fished out one of the only articles of his own clothing the Dursleys had allowed him to keep.
It was a pair of half gloves that Cho had made for him. She'd been in his specially talented class at Stonewall, and was a fantastic clothes designer. She'd made these especially for him when he was in hospital. They were the same deep green as his eyes, and began on his knuckles, finishing mid forearm. There were holes for his thumbs, and a band of elastic at the top, stopping them from sliding down and revealing the pink scars on his skin.
After cleaning his glasses, Harry was ready to start the day. Grabbing both his school bag and P.E. kit, he made his way downstairs to start breakfast.
It was quarter past seven when the Dursleys arrived in the kitchen, and Harry was just about ready to dish up the bacon, eggs and toast he'd cooked. Serving Uncle Vernon his coffee, Harry helped himself to a slice of toast.
Finishing his breakfast, he hurried back upstairs and cleaned his teeth, coming back to clear the table. Dudley had since gone to get showered and dressed, and Vernon warned Harry again not to cause trouble at school, as he got his drink and sandwich out of the fridge.
Returning to the hall, Harry sat on the bottom of the stairs to pull his battered trainers on-again these were all his own. As he picked his bag up, Dudley came down and began to complain about walking to school. The door clicked shut behind the Gryffindor as Vernon agreed to drive Dudley on his way to work.
Harry called at the shop again on his way to school, and picked up a bag of crisps for break, and an apple for after school. He'd decided to follow the doctor's advise about eating regularly after his stomach had hurt yesterday.
Arriving at school, Harry headed straight to the Gryffindor common room for form. He entered the room and was immediately accosted by Hermione.
"Good morning, Harry!" she wrapped her hand around his elbow. "Come and sit with us."
Harry felt awkward as she led him to the corner where Ron and his sister were sitting. Hermione was obviously trying to make friends with him, and make him feel welcome, yet Harry just wanted to be left alone.
Sitting down, he tried to blend into the background, but Ron decided to talk to him.
"Hey mate! This is my sister, Ginny," he smiled. "Gin, this is Harry."
"Hello," Ginny smiled flirtatiously.
Harry nodded in response.
"What happened in art yesterday?" Hermione asked. "You didn't appear too well."
"I, er, didn't feel too good," Harry lied. "I don't really want to talk about it."
"You're ok now, though, right?" she pressed.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry shrugged.
"You didn't finish telling us about why you moved up here," Hermione leaned forward attentively.
"Yeah, why did you?" Ginny asked. "Not that it's a bad thing you've come here."
"Was it your parents?" Ron now joined in. "Did one of them get a new job?"
"No, I don't live with my parents," Harry didn't want to talk about this.
"Who do you live with then?" Ginny looked confused.
"My aunt, uncle and cousin," Harry mumbled.
"Oh! Is your cousin the other new boy?" asked a blond boy who was sitting nearby.
"That's Neville," Hermione explained. "He's in our year. Along with Seamus and Dean, those two there."
She pointed to a sandy haired boy and a black boy on their other side.
"Lavendar and Parvati are in your year too, but they're too interested in make-up to pay attention to us." Ginny pointed to two girls across the room. One of them was one of the twins who had laughed at his clothes the day before.
Harry nodded at them all, and went back to staring at the floor.
"So, is your cousin the new boy? Other new boy?" Neville asked again.
"Yeah," Harry shrugged. "Why?"
"I just wondered," Neville replied. "I saw him yesterday, bullying some lower year Hufflepuff. He didn't seem too nice. Especially since he has Crabbe and Goyle following him around."
"Dudley's always been a bully," Harry said, feeling a sudden like for this boy. He disliked Dudley too. "Just ignore him."
"Oh, I would. But you should warn him, it's not a good idea to bully in Hogwarts," Neville shifted closer. "He'll end up on Draco Malfoy's bad side."
The others all nodded quietly.
"Draco Malfoy?" Harry asked. He'd met the boy yesterday, and he seemed nice enough.
"He's the richest boy in school," Hermione explained.
"Back when we first started school, he was the most arrogant little snot ever," Seamus continued.
"Crabbe and Goyle used to follow him around," Ginny took over. "They can't think for themselves. Thick as pig shit, and just as nasty."
"They knew him from childhood and thought he was a bully, just like his father," Dean picked up the thread.
"My family and his have never gotten on, so I tend to stay away from him," Ron put in. "But after a couple of weeks, he ditched Crabbe and Goyle for his new friends, Parkinson, Zabini and Nott."
"He's mellowed a lot now," Hermione again. "I think being around people less privileged than himself has given him a better outlook. But he can still be arrogant."
"Crabbe and Goyle tried to bully some kids once," Seamus now. "Malfoy came along and shut them down completely."
"He just glared at them, and told them to stop it," Neville grinned. "They never tried it again."
"That glare," Dean shuddered. "I think he could send the devil running for cover with it."
"He's actually really popular," Hermione finished. "For someone who was once so arrogant, he's quite nice. He has his moments, but he's really smart and good-looking. He has the power in the school, and can use it for whatever he wants. No one crosses him."
Harry nodded, taking all of it in.
"Quiet, please!" McGonagall was sitting at her desk, the register spread out in front of her.
It took several minutes for her to take attendance, as she had to fill in sections for each of the seven years. It was quarter past when the teacher finished, and the bell rang for first lesson.
Harry was swept along with the others from his year, Ginny going her own way.
"Double science first!" Hermione sang.
The others all groaned and Harry swallowed with difficulty. Snape hated him, and his test was awful. He knew this lesson was going to be hell.
"Oh, come on! At least we get it over with," Hermione sounded frustrated. She spotted Harry's expression. "Don't worry, I know Professor Snape's sour, but he hates all the houses, except for Slytherin. He's just annoyed because you're new. Everyone wants to get to know you, and he probably feels you're taking people's attention from the lesson. It'll stop in time."
Harry wasn't convinced, but nodded anyway.
"So, why don't you live with your parents?" Dean asked. "I was going to ask, but we got off topic."
"They're dead," Harry answered shortly. "I don't remember them."
"Oh."
There was silence for a moment.
"I don't live with my parents either," Neville pushed to Harry's side. "They're in a mental institution. They were tortured to insanity by a woman named Bellatrix Lestrange."
"Bitch!" Harry spat.
The others looked around, shocked.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "She killed my godfather a few years ago. He'd just been released from prison for a murder he didn't commit, and she killed him."
Neville nodded.
"Yeah, she's awful," he said. "Good thing she got what was coming."
He was referring to Bellatrix's life imprisonment. The judge at her trial for Sirius' murder gave her a life sentence, with recommendation to never get released for good behaviour, like she had been during her sentence for her deeds upon Neville's parents. She wasn't going anywhere. Harry was surprised Neville knew about that, but then he supposed he'd like to keep track of the person who tortured his parents, if that had happened to him.
They reached the classroom, and stood waiting to be let in. Snape soon appeared, the Slytherins trailing behind him.
"He's Head of Slytherin," Ron whispered. "That's why he favours them."
Harry nodded in acknowledgment and entered the room with everyone else, trying to escape to the back of the room, but ended up being pulled onto the same bench as Neville. Ron and Hermione were sat in front, with Seamus and Dean behind.
The class sat in silence while Snape took the register, then nervously waited as the teacher picked up the pile of tests from his desk and stood up.
"I have marked your tests," he scowled. "Some are better than others, and some are extremely poor. I suggest that those who scored under eighty per cent read over their notes from last year."
Harry gulped, knowing his score would be the lowest in the class.
He stared at the desk as Snape moved around handing out the tests. Finally, only one test was left, and a shadow loomed over the table. Harry remained quiet and didn't look up.
"Mr. Potter, can you please explain what this abysmal thing in my hand is?" the dour man sneered.
"My test, sir," Harry whispered.
There was a tap on the door, but Snape chose to ignore it. He was too busy being incensed by Potter.
"Potter, did I, or did I not explain to you yesterday that I demand hard work in this class?" Snape asked.
"You did, sir," Harry could feel the stares of the whole class.
"Then would you care to explain why you decided not to answer half of the questions on your test?" Snape threw the booklet on the table in front of Harry.
The green eyed boy winced when he saw the score. Twelve per cent. It was worse than he expected.
"I didn't know the answers, sir," he replied quietly. "I've never seen half of this material."
"Potter, the material on this test was on the national syllabus for last year," Snape growled. "You will have learned this at your last school. You are nothing but a liar, and as such, will retake this test in detention Monday evening and ten house points will be tak-"
"Now, now, Severus," came a voice from the door.
After his knock had been ignored, Dumbledore had entered and watched the whole scene.
"That will not be necessary. Mr. Potter missed most of his lessons last year, and therefore I believe that he has, indeed, not seen this material. Perhaps, it would be better to arrange a way for him to catch up on what he does not know?"
"Of course, Headmaster," Severus nodded, and with one more malicious look at Harry, headed towards the door.
"I actually came to speak to Mr. Potter," Dumbledore smiled. "May I see you outside?"
Harry immediately stood up and followed the old man into the corridor, the door closing behind him.
"Harry, I have spoken to Professor Trelawney about yesterday's incident," the headmaster said gently. "She has offered to let you study the history, styles and techniques of art, rather than taking part in the practical side of things. That's the best I can do, I'm afraid."
"Thanks sir," Harry smiled. "I can handle that, I think. It's just the practical stuff I can't do."
"Of course," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Now, you'd best be getting back inside before Professor Snape gets upset."
Harry nodded, and opened the door. As soon as he stepped back inside, Snape turned to him.
"Potter, Mr. Malfoy has agreed to tutor you in Science to help you catch up," he smiled, showing yellowed, crooked teeth. "You must arrange a suitable time with him for your lessons. I will let him know what you need help with, and you will be re-taking the test in a month's time. If you do not achieve over eighty per cent, you will be in detention. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Harry whispered and sat back down.
For the rest of the lesson, Snape began to teach them about atoms. Harry studiously copied down drawings, and used a periodic table to draw examples of different element atoms.
Break finally came, and as he left the classroom, Hermione grabbed his arm, dragging him towards the yard with the others.
"Potter!" came a shout from behind him.
Harry turned and saw Draco Malfoy behind him, his own friends hanging back a bit.
"Can I have a word?"
Harry nodded and detached himself from Hermione, taking a few paces towards the blond Slytherin.
"I was wondering if you were free tonight?" Draco asked. "For your first study session?"
"Yes," Harry replied. "I have to be home for half five, but I can stay until about five. Do you want to meet in the library?"
"The library closes at half three because it's Friday," Draco shook his head. "I would say we could go to mine, but Mother's having some dinner party tonight, and doesn't want me home until tomorrow. I'm staying at Blaise's overnight, but his mum has a thing about not having anyone arrive before dinner's over. I was thinking of hanging round town and eating in a restaurant, but since I'm now your tutor, I thought I could come study at yours instead."
Harry paled slightly at the idea, but swallowed and took a breath.
"I'd have to ask first," he answered. "Is there a payphone anywhere?"
"Here, use my mobile," Draco pulled out a silver flip phone. "Just don't let any teachers see you with it. I don't want it confiscated."
Harry moved closer to the wall and dialled the home phone, tucking the phone close to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Aunt Petunia, it's me," he replied.
"What do you want?" Petunia snapped.
"I've been given a student tutor by my science teacher to help me catch up on what I missed last year. He wants to come over to study tonight. I was wondering if that's ok? The library's closed, you see."
"Fine! But you work in your room," was the answer. "I don't want you making a mess in the kitchen."
"Yes, Aunt Petunia."
The line went dead and Harry hung up.
"Thanks," he handed the phone back. "She said it was ok."
"Great!" Draco smiled. "Well, we have P.E. together last. I'll meet you in the changing room, and we can head to yours from there, yeah?"
"Ok," Harry nodded.
"See you then," Draco headed off.
Harry turned to see that Hermione and Ron had waited. Neville, Dean and Seamus had obviously gone on without them. Hermione grabbed his arm again, and pulled him out onto the yard.
"Why did you miss classes last year?" Ron asked.
"You're not a truant, are you?" Hermione looked worried that he'd convince her to skip classes.
In Harry's opinion, nothing, not even death, could stop Hermione going to class.
"No," he replied. "I was sick at the beginning of this year, and spent a lot of time in hospital."
"Oh? What was wrong?" Hermione asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," Harry replied, pulling his crisps out and starting to eat them.
The subject was dropped, and they spent their beak in relative silence.
Their next period was a free, and they retired to the library, completing the homework Snape had assigned. It was relatively simple, they just had to draw more atoms, but these were slightly more complicated, as they had more rings to them.
The bell rang, and they made their way to History, Ron loudly wondering which war Binns would choose to teach them this year. From what Harry could work out, the history teacher only ever chose to speak about wars. It sounded rather boring to him. The Slytherins also had this class with them, and Draco nodded cordially at Harry from across the lecture theatre.
"That was completely useless!" Ron declared in the canteen at lunch. "He taught us World War One last year!"
"Well, we're learning about it more in depth this year," Hermione defended.
"Mione, you have to admit, it's a bit pointless," Dean broke in. "He just repeats the same lesson three times in a row, then moves on to repeat the next lesson another three times!"
"I suppose," Hermione nodded. "But it drills the facts into your head. You'll never forget it!"
"That's if any of us listen in the first place," Seamus grinned.
Harry sat quietly through all of this, eating his sandwich. It was cheese today. There was a bit of wilted lettuce on it, and the cheese had gone sweaty, but it was better than out-of-date ham. Harry would bet anything, though, that Dudley's lettuce was crisp, his cheese less slimy and the bread slathered in pickle.
Lunch was soon over, and after form, they headed down to the sports hall.
"All the houses have P.E. together?" Harry asked, seeing both Dudley and Draco standing outside the door.
"Yep!" Ron grinned. "Because the girls and boys split up, there's only a full class with all four houses. Half the boys from two houses give a regular sized house group, so to make numbers up, we all have it together. It's cool, actually. No girls and all sports!"
"But Ronald likes to watch the girls," Hermione jumped in from his other side. "When he's in the net during football, and the play's on the other side of the field, he spies on whatever the girls are doing."
"I'm sixteen!" Ron protested. "I can't help it!"
They queued up and soon, a silver haired woman with odd golden eyes opened the door.
"Into the changing rooms, you lot!" she yelled.
Harry followed Ron into the boys changing room and quickly stuffed himself into a corner.
"I want you changed in ten minutes!" the large, bushy haired teacher called. "We're meeting up with the ladies today! Madam Hooch and I have prepared a special treat for today!"
Harry turned to face the wall, untying his jumper and dropping it on the bench. Opening his kitbag, he pulled out the old t-shirt he'd worn during the Tri-School Tournament. It was the only thing he owned that would be suitable for P.E., even though it had "Potter" displayed across the back in black letters. Luckily, he hadn't grown much since it had been made. Yanking off his t-shirt, he pulled his white sports top over his head as fast as possible.
Turning around, he saw that no one had noticed anything different about him, and sat down to take off his trainers. Slipping his trousers off, Harry pulled on his black Tri-School tracksuit bottoms and trainers. They were all custom-made by the organisers of the event to give each champion the best support for their feet. They were extremely comfortable, if a bit battered.
Finally, checking that no one was watching, he pulled off his green gloves, and replaced them with the large sweatbands from his Tri-School kit. He was ready.
They were led outside to the field behind the astro-turf, where a short obstacle course was laid out. The girls joined them a moment later.
"You're each going to attempt this course, and be timed while doing so," Hagrid explained. "The fastest boy and girl will be awarded ten house points, and five points will go to the runners up!"
"Ok! Get stretching!" Hooch yelled. "I want a proper warm up! No exceptions!"
Five minutes later, the teachers called a halt to the warm up.
"Who wants to go first?" Hooch called.
Dudley, who had worked his way up behind Harry, pushed his cousin forward.
"Show them how it's done, Champion!" he whispered maliciously.
Harry had hoped Dudley would leave him alone during this class, since he was sticking close to Ron, but no such luck.
"Ah! Potter, is it?" Hagrid beamed. "You're up first, it would appear."
He motioned to the starting point, a line drawn in the grass with white paint, and Harry stood behind it, preparing to run, his eyes scanning the first part of the course.
"Go!" Hooch yelled, clicking the stopwatch.
Harry was off before she'd even closed her mouth. He jumped the three hurdles smoothly, then threw himself forwards, sliding through the hole in the blockade, one hand over his stomach. Leaping to his feet even as he pulled them through, Harry grabbed the skipping rope and moved across the space before him. Using the bounce from his skipping to help him, he jumped up onto the box. Walking quickly along it, he jumped down, dropping into a roll on the mat to avoid twisting his ankle. His momentum brought him to his feet and he climbed up onto the balance beam, and he ran along it, arms out, eyes fixed on the next part of the course. Jumping off the beam, he quickly scaled the climbing frame and slid down the net on the other side. Grabbing the ball at the bottom, he sprinted to the basket at the finish line, tossing the ball in as he crossed.
"Well done, Potter!" Hooch called. "A great time!"
Hagrid reset the course as Harry walked back to his classmates, feeling a slight burning in his chest. Perhaps he'd overdone it. But the course was easy compared the one he'd done in the Tournament, and he'd felt that he had to go all out in order to match his performance.
Putting a hand over the lower right of his chest, Harry began some simple warm down exercises.
"That really was a splendid time, Potter," Hooch smiled. "Have you competed in obstacle courses before?"
Harry looked up and nodded.
"Well, they actually called it a gauntlet," he responded. "But it was the same technique."
Hooch caught sight of the T.S.T. badge on his shirt and smiled.
"I always wanted to take part in the Tri-School, but my parents wouldn't let me transfer," she commented. "How long ago did you?"
"Year before last," Harry replied. "When I was fourteen."
"A bit young," Hooch seemed surprised.
Harry shrugged.
"It was weird that year," he said. "Mine was the host school and a virus got into the system. Picked two names instead of one. Mine came out second. The program took it straight from the school's database."
Hooch nodded in understanding.
"How did you do?" she asked.
"Joint first," Harry huffed.
Hooch noticed his discomfort.
"I'm sorry," she frowned. "I didn't notice. Is it your…injury?"
Harry nodded.
"Well, you sit down and rest. We're not doing anything else this class anyway," she turned away. "Brown! You're up!"
Harry sat down, his hand still on his chest, and tried to breathe shallowly and steadily. The pain would fade soon; he just had to remember to take it easy from now on. He'd almost forgotten his problem, and now it had cost him.
As the class wore on, Harry's breathing eased, and he started to study his trainers. There was a fresh grass stain from his run on the course, but apart from that, they were the same as ever. He looked fondly upon a rusty stain on the toe of the left shoe. It was an old bloodstain from the third task of the Tournament. He'd dripped blood on it from a nasty cut on his arm during a brawl with another Champion.
Though he'd hated being picked for the Tournament at first, Harry had found himself enjoying taking part. He always had an adrenaline rush during tasks, which lasted him well into the night. It allowed him to party with the others afterwards. More than that, he'd grown closer to those in his class, and made friends for the first time in his life. It'd been one of the best things to happen to him, at the time.
An out of breath Ron suddenly plopped down beside him.
"Whew! That was hard! Would've been easy if we didn't have to race for fastest time!" he panted. "How did you do it so quickly?"
Harry shrugged.
"It's easy. There's a trick to it," he explained. "Think in the next moment, whilst acting in the present. Think about the next part of the course whilst completing the bit before."
Ron looked slightly confused but let it drop in favour of watching Hermione's turn.
"You're still first, though," he commented. "No one's gotten close to your time. You must have had practise!"
"That, or he's incredibly fit!" Seamus dropped down to Harry's side, having finished his warm down.
"Maybe both!" Dean grinned from where he was waiting for his turn.
Drawn from his thoughts, Harry decided to watch the rest of the class attempt the course.
Hermione achieved a brilliant time, probably the best the girls would get, and Draco managed to come five seconds behind Harry. Crabbe and Goyle achieved the same time (which happened to be the lowest), but Dudley had yet to take his turn. Harry rather felt that some of the equipment would break under his colossal weight. He also thought it would be funny if his cousin was too large to fit through the hole in the blockade.
Finally, Hannah Abbott finished the course, coming third of the girls, and it was Dudley's turn.
"Mr. Dursley! It's your turn!" Hooch yelled.
"How do you know my name?" Dudley asked, obviously trying to buy time.
"There are only two new students in sixth year, and I've already met Mr. Potter," the teacher replied. "It was obvious who you were. Now, get up here for your turn."
"No, I can't," Dudley replied.
"Why not?" Hooch asked.
"I'm a boxer," Dudley answered. "I'm built for strength, not speed. I don't do this sort of thing."
"A boxer must also be agile," Hooch's eyes were narrowed. "Now, come up here and show us your agility."
"No!" Dudley crossed his arms and glared.
"DURSLEY!" Hagrid thundered. "You will come up here and complete this test now, or you will do it in detention every night next week!"
"You wouldn't force Harry if it was him and not me!" Dudley's chin rose defensively.
Harry felt like sinking into the ground.
"Harry didn't outright refuse, like you! He got on with it, despite aggravating his injury!" Hooch snapped. "Besides, Harry is a true athlete. Unlike you, he competed in one of the most difficult sporting tournaments in the world. A tournament most extreme sports and adrenaline junkies dream of competing in. Only the fittest and bravest of people can hope to survive it!"
"Oh god!" Dudley scoffed. "He's not brave! You should've seen him back in Surrey, hiding and blubbering and-"
"ENOUGH!" Hagrid yelled. "Fifty points from Hufflepuff and a detention on Monday! Complete this course now, or it'll be detention for a month!"
Miserably, Dudley trudged to the start line, throwing a spiteful glance at his cousin. Harry knew Dudley would be out to cause trouble for him from now on. And that was not a good thing.
Students were staring back and forth between the pair, and Harry knew they were wondering about how Harry and Dudley knew each other, and about the Tournament. Sighing, he realised he'd have a lot of explaining to do.
Dudley took nearly ten minutes to complete the obstacle course, due to the fact that he couldn't jump the hurdles or climb onto the box and beam. It was an abysmal performance, yet no one laughed. They all felt sorry for this pathetic lump of lard. The blond was almost in tears of rage when he reached the end.
"Ok! Ten points to Potter and Granger, who finished in one minute thirty two, and One minute fifty nine respectively," Hooch called. "Five points to Malfoy and Bones for second place, coming one minute thirty seven and two minutes three respectively."
"Changing rooms everyone!" Hagrid boomed. "Class ends in fifteen minutes!"
They headed back to the sports hall, the Gryffindors congratulating Harry and Hermione on the way.
Back in the changing room, Harry once more turned to the wall to change his top, and making sure no one would see his wrists while he changed their coverings. As he pulled his trainers on, he spotted Dudley glaring. Already he had the feeling the weekend wouldn't be pleasant.
The bell rang, and the changing rooms quickly emptied.
"See ya Monday Harry!" were Ron's parting words, and he too disappeared.
Even Dudley had left.
Harry looked around and found Draco in front of a mirror, fixing his hair.
"I'll just be a minute," he said, distracted.
Harry sat on a bench and waited for him to finish.
"Come on, Malfoy," came Hagrid's voice. "Your hair's fine."
"One second…There," Draco turned round, smiling.
Harry's breath caught briefly. He looked amazing when he smiled.
"Thanks Professor! Great lesson!" Draco grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him out of the sports hall.
"Thank god for that!" the blond sighed in relief when they were outside. "I don't really like Hagrid. He's a bit odd."
"He seemed alright," Harry shrugged.
They stopped at Draco's locker so he could swap his P.E. bag for his overnight bag and set off towards Grizedale Drive.
Harry pulled his apple out of his bag and started to munch, one hand still caressing his lower chest. It didn't hurt to breathe now, but he was still wary of it.
"So, you and that Dursley boy know each other?" Draco asked.
"He's my cousin," Harry knew this would come up sooner or later.
"Poor you," Draco glanced sideways at him. "What did Hooch mean when she said you took part in some contest?"
"The Tri-School Tournament," Harry replied. "It's organised by the council down in Surrey, and a fitness company provide the equipment and come up with the tasks. Basically, three schools enter students, and one student from each school is picked at random by a computer program to compete.
"There are three tasks, and the Champions each try to win the cup and prize money. I got picked by accident. There was a problem with the program, and it accessed the school database, pulling two Stonewall students out to compete."
"Sounds cool," Draco grinned. "What were the tasks?"
"The first was a gauntlet run. A bit like an obstacle course, only this had moving parts and fires. It wasn't easy, or completely safe. There are forms for each Champion to sign, saying that they submitted themselves to the dangers, and wouldn't sue in the event of injury.
"Then the second task was set in a lake just outside the town. The organisers secretly trained friends and family of the Champions to dive, and took them down to the bottom of the lake fifteen minutes before the task began while we were still in the tent. We Champions had to swim from the shore to a platform in the middle of the lake to get flippers, goggles and torches, then swim to the bottom of the lake to 'rescue' our hostage. The only air we had was from the divers waiting every few metres with oxygen tanks. It was like scuba diving with someone else holding your tank. Obviously, the hostages were given plenty of air, but we only had an hour to find them and bring them back to the surface. It was definitely the scariest of all three tasks.
"The final task was a maze. We were let in through separate gates, which were locked behind us. We had to find the cup to win. The amount of points we had determined which order we entered the maze. It was massive, and creepy, especially as the task started in late afternoon and carried on well into the evening. We were each given flare guns in case we wanted to retire, or got injured. None of us understood how we'd be injured at the time, but once we got in the maze, everything changed.
"During the Tournament, we all grew close. Good friends. We talked, celebrated together, and opened the Christmas dance together, Fleur even taught me to swim for the second task! But in the maze, we all realised how close we were to the end. To victory. I think, subconsciously, we all desired it more than we realised. We worked so hard to find it, that when we saw each other in the maze, we turned on each other. Victor beat up Fleur, Cedric and Victor fought, then Ced and I did! In the end, we took it together. A draw for Stonewall. And it was like, none of it had happened. We were as friendly as ever. Victor and Fleur even came to our victory party. It was…unreal."
"It sounds amazing," Draco said. "I'd love to have seen it, or even competed."
"It definitely gave me a buzz," Harry nodded. "But I wouldn't recommend entering unless you're incredibly fit. It really tests your strength and stamina."
"Yeah."
They walked in silence for a moment, and as they turned onto Harry's street, Draco spoke again.
"Snape gave me a list of everything you've missed in form. It seems like you missed both summer and spring term last year."
"I did," Harry confirmed. "I was in hospital."
"Oh."
They entered the house, and took their shoes off.
"This way," Harry whispered, leading Draco up to his tiny room.
They walked through the door, and Harry shifted uncomfortably as Draco's cool grey eyes surveyed the room.
"I know it's not very big, but I don't need much room," he whispered. "I don't know where we can sit. There isn't enough room to put another chair at the desk."
"It's ok, we can sit on the bed," Draco grinned.
They settled themselves on the lumpy mattress, and Harry rooted in his bag for his paper and pen, while Draco pulled out a textbook and looked at the photos on Harry's bedside table.
There was one of a woman with long red hair and green eyes, with a man with messy black hair, glasses and hazel eyes. The picture was obviously taken on their wedding day with a guest laughing nearby.
"They're my parents and godfather," Harry told him.
Draco looked up to see Harry watching him.
"Who're these?" he asked, picking up a picture of Harry with three others.
"The Champions from the Tournament," Harry pointed to them in turn. "That's Fleur, Victor and Cedric."
"These?"
"Cho, Jess and Ced," Harry replied. "My friends."
Draco nodded, and cast a lingering look at the final photo, showing Harry and Cedric sitting close together under a tree.
"Ced was my boyfriend," Harry muttered, seeing the look.
"You're gay?" Draco asked.
"Yeah. Are you bothered?" Harry ducked his head.
"No, I am too," Draco smiled. "So, did you and he break up because you moved here?"
"No," Harry replied, still letting Draco's admission sink in. "He's dead."
Draco didn't know what to say, so he changed the topic, and they began their study session.
It was quarter past five when Petunia stuck her head around the door.
"Would you like to stay for dinner…?" she asked politely.
"Draco, madam," the blond smiled handsomely. "Yes, thank you. It's very kind of you to ask."
"No problem, dear," Petunia smiled. "Please, call me Mrs. Dursley. Dudley wants pasta for dinner, boy."
Harry nodded, and finished his sentence before standing up. Confused, Draco followed him to the kitchen and watched as he cooked the meal.
Dinner went well enough, with Dudley complaining about his P.E. teacher being cruel to him, Vernon complaining about work, and Draco and Harry eating in silence.
The Slytherin helped Harry clear the table after they finished eating, while the Dursleys retired to the dining room.
"You didn't eat very much, won't you be hungry later?" Draco asked as he dried the last of the pots.
"No, I'm not supposed to eat big meals, but small snacks every few hours," Harry shook his head. "I had an accident and it damaged my stomach badly."
Draco nodded.
"Well, I'd better go, thanks for the meal," the blond smiled.
Harry walked him to the door, waiting in the hall as Draco popped into the living room to graciously thank his hosts.
On the doorstep, Draco turned to Harry once more.
"Thanks again, I hope you have a nice weekend," he smiled. "I might see you around."
He headed off down the path, Harry closing the door behind him and sneaking off upstairs, a slight warm feeling in his stomach.
A/N: Owwww! My fingers hurt! This chapter is twice as long as the first and my hands have seized up!
I hope you all liked it! Please review! I want to know what you thought!
Love,
Len
