Chapter 2
He began to take over my mind, slowly but surely. Every time I passed him, every time I saw him, even when I simply pictured him in my mind. Then it all pieced together. I already knew… it was simply hidden conveniently in the back of my head, a nagging voice. I guess it explained why I reacted so violently to Hermione. I slammed my fist into the wall out of pure frustration hoping that maybe if I hit it hard enough, these thoughts would go away. If anything they were only more prominent. Blood streamed down my clenched fist yet I let it flow and drip onto the carpet. What about Hermione? Only now she crossed my mind. Guilt began to swamp my thoughts yet they were interrupted by Ron's voice slicing through the silence.
"Bloody hell mate, are you alright?" he asked glancing back and forth between my bleeding fist and the newly found dent in the wall.
"Uh yeah, it's just my scar… It was hurting," I mumbled feebly simply wishing for him to leave me alone. Concern clouded his face,
"That's not good mate, you should really talk to someone about it,"
"Yeah well I'm talking to you aren't I?" I snapped. Ron's face deflated slightly,
"Look Harry, I'm just trying to help you out here," he shrugged, "Y'know I came here to talk to you but you're obviously busy so…" and slowly he trudged away. Ron had seemed more withdrawn recently, it was true. I made a mental note to talk to him later, and left the common room for the pitch black corridor. Nobody was there. I pulled the invisibility cloak over my head and slowly drifted in the inevitable vague direction of an abandoned classroom. I didn't even realise until it was too late to turn back.
There he was again, his pale features scrunched up in concentration as he scrawled furiously onto his work, his eyes which look almost silver in the dark were moving in zig zags across the page as he reread what he had just written. His white-blonde hair was spiked up in different directions as he ran his hand through it, and although I hated to admit it I felt a little turned on. Taking a deep breath I pulled the cloak off from over my head and stepped inside the room. He turned abruptly to face me, his eyes piercing my own.
"What do you think you are doing here Potter?"
"Couldn't sleep," I said instantly wishing I could take it back. He arched an eyebrow. "Well that and I wanted to apologise for being a dick." His expression relaxed slightly and he turned back to his work,
"Well if that's the case then I guess I can say the same for myself."
"What do you mean?" I questioned. He turned to face me, his expression puzzled and my stomach jolting violently.
"I was referring back to the time when I was an arrogant arse under the influence of my father, and you were just another Gryffindor suck up," he said shrugging.
"Oh right… I just meant the other day when I made that remark about Hermione. Oh and do you want to know something nobody else knows? The sorting hat originally wanted to put me in Slytherin." An emotion that looked like genuine surprise lit up his face.
"So if that's the case, why aren't you with us now?"
"I saw your face at the table and was put off," I grinned.
"Oh come on Potter, I know you love me really," He joked with a cocky wink.
"Dream on Malfoy," I muttered, followed by a nervous cough. "Anyway, I'd better be going so yeah… Have fun with your writing." Malfoy smiled awkwardly as a smile was obviously not something he was used to doing, and I took that as my cue to leave. As soon as I had walked a couple of steps away from the classroom, I groaned under my breath and hit my forehead with the palm of my hand. I didn't reckon that conversation could have been anymore awkward.
When I re-entered the common room I was greeted by Ron sitting alone by the fire.
"Hey mate, not even gonna ask what you've been up to," he muttered looking distracted. I doubted he even cared and I thanked God for it.
"Yeah Ron… I'm sorry for snapping earlier, I had a lot on my mind."
"S'alright," he mumbled. The fire crackled softly making up for the conversation pause. After knowing Ron for so long, having nothing to say to each other was never awkward. In a way it was pleasant to just sit in companionable silence. "Harry, I've got a problem…" He started.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked curiously.
"It's about Hermione…" He mumbled almost incoherently.
"What about her?"
"I think I'm in love with her," he choked.
"Oh," I stuttered momentarily stunned.
"I didn't even realise until it was too late… Y'know with Malfoy and all… I guess there goes another reason to hate him. It's just… I don't know. I probably sound ridiculous, I'm going to bed." He muttered before getting up and walking towards the stairs to the dorm.
"Night Ron," I mumbled.
He didn't respond.
