Author's Note: Hello all! So guess how long this chapter is? A whopping 23 pages. I don't understand how it happened. There was just so much to say! Hell, there's still technically more that goes with this chapter, but I plan on putting it in the beginning of Chapter 10, to link up the most 'present comment' of "About Potter and I fucking each other's brains out" and continuing from there. As I mentioned previously, this chapter is what happened "before" what happened in Chapter 9. The end of this chapter corresponds to both titles of Chapter 8 and 9. I plan to be introducing yet another character into this intricate plot! But that won't be until the next chapter that is currently three pages so far.

Anyway! On with the show!

Chapter 9: Downright Mental (Part II)

Malfoy knew the only way to handle a Weasley was to tell it to him straight.

—"About Potter and I fucking each other's brains out."

—Earlier that day—

In actuality, Harry had only slept through breakfast and woke to find himself gripping the letter he had felt before he had drifted off to sleep. Try as he might, he could not bring himself to sleep anymore than he already had and pulled out the letter from underneath his pillow and tore it open.

A single scrap piece of parchment fell out of the envelope. The writing on the note was spelled so that the handwriting became generic and unrecognizable.

On it was simply written:

"I find it harder and harder to ignore my feelings for you. If only you felt the same."

There was nothing else—only that. Harry had no idea who could have written it, and he'd have a damned time trying to figure out who it was, what with the handwriting useless and so very few people having access to his dorm.

There was only one person who spoke with such obvious care in their choice of words. And that was someone who he had already spoken to about his feelings. He frowned and looked at the note again. It couldn't have been him. If he had wanted to send him a note, he would have placed it in the black box like all the others.

Harry decided that he would show the note to Severus and ask him whom he thought the letter was from. Not that it mattered; Harry wasn't intent on mixing in with anyone else. He had eyes his set on someone already.

Even if that person wasn't necessarily looking back.

As Harry changed his clothes, deciding that he would indeed attend class after all, the frustration of the current situation finally caught up with him. He found it ridiculous that most of the school thought that he was attracted to Hermione (which he encouraged, in reality, because it was better than them discovering his affair with Malfoy, or, even worse, the truth) but, as he and the rest of the school knew, Hermione and Ron seemed to be set on each other (because no one else seemed to notice Hermione and Malfoy's sudden attraction to each other). That aside, Harry still had to deal with his illicit affair with Draco the previous year, as it was still hanging over his head like some sort of omen. Malfoy threw it in his face whatever chance he got; Snape had been originally furious with the original discover of it, and of course, there was also Fred and George's reactions, along with Hermione and Ginny. Ginny had seemed intrigued, and although Hermione had appeared as such, he knew that she had been too caught up in her own feelings for Malfoy to be too concerned with it. As for Ron…well, he was most certainly (and as per usual) in the dark about all such matters.

And of course…there was a matter of his current feelings. The fact that he was secretly in love with—

No. He couldn't think about it.

There was so much else to be dealt with at the current time, that he just couldn't begin to think about how he'd eventually go about approaching said person and reveal to them something that he had been keeping a secret for what had to be almost two and a half years now. The real point of the matter was that he had gotten himself so far into the situation that there was no way in hell he'd ever come out of it untainted.

He sighed heavily as he sat on the edge of his bed and placed his books into his bag, feeling as though he rather skip his morning classes and go back to bed. He figured that Ron and Hermione would come back to the Common Room after they had eaten breakfast.

Just as he was about to exit his dorm room, Ron entered, peeking around the door quietly.

"Oh!" Ron exclaimed, obviously surprised to see Harry awake. "Didn't expect you to be up so soon."

Harry shrugged and pulled his satchel over his shoulder. "Couldn't sleep much, and I better not miss class, or I just know I'll fall behind again."

Ron nodded, walking over to his bed to grab his books. When he stood up to his full height, his eyes darted to Harry's bed and then back to Harry. Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

"Something the matter?" Harry asked, walking towards Ron.

"Um…well no," said Ron, sounding confused. "Are you…okay?"

Harry looked at him like he'd gone insane. "Me? You're the one giving me funny looks."

"I am?" asked Ron, his eyes darting around the room, looking nervous.

"Ron…" Harry said, his tone both prodding and cautious.

"You were up all night, watching over Hermione…just thought you'd be more tired."

Harry said nothing immediately, gazing at Ron as though he was searching for something.

"I guess I just couldn't sleep with Malfoy in the room," Harry half shrugged. It wasn't a complete lie; it sounded as though he was disturbed by Malfoy's presence the previous evening. He figured Ron would buy that answer and eventually, Ron nodded his head.

"Yah…I suppose having Malfoy just inches away could have made sleeping difficult."

Harry laughed. "Didn't seem to bother you too much though."

Ron looked a bit uncomfortable. "No…I suppose not."

"Ron, is there something else?" Harry pushed, noticing how Ron seemed to be struggling with something.

"I suppose…I was just wondering…"

"Yes?"

There was a pause, before Ron's words came out, rushed and closely strung together, his face flushing with embarrassment.

"Doyoulike'Mione?"

Downstairs in the Common Room, Hermione was waiting for Ron to see if Harry was awake, so they could all go to class together. When she had entered the Common Room with Ron, she hadn't seen anyone else there. Yet when Ron had gone up the stairs and Hermione's eyes wandered around the room, she noticed that one of the twins was standing by the window, staring out onto the surrounding grounds.

She walked over to the figure and tapped them on the shoulder. The figure jumped slightly and turned around with a startled expression on his face. It was Fred, and his face seemed extremely pensive in the pale light shining through the window. Realizing it had been Hermione who had tapped him on the shoulder, his face turned slightly nervous as he gave her a half smile.

She laughed and shook her head, her chocolate curls shimmering in the sunlight.

"Relax Fred, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Well I must say that's a relief," Fred replied, his eyes glowing mischievously for a moment, before they darkened, and his face returned to what it had been while he gazed out the window.

"What is it, Fred? Has something happened?"

Fred frowned slightly and shook his head. "Yes and no…it's just something that came about…and seemed to get progressively…worse…as time went on."

Hermione looked at him, her eyes worried.

"Oh, nothing serious mind you. I'm just worried about George, s'all," he mumbled quietly. "He hasn't been himself lately. I just can't figure out how to handle him these days."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, it's not really a problem. It's actually…kinda nice, you might say."

"Fred…you're confusing me."

Fred grimaced at her, and his eyes darted around the room and he pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"The thing is Hermione…George has strong feelings for Harry. And it's getting pretty painful for him."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide. "I didn't realize George was attracted to men."

"He likes 'em both really. He just got really close to Harry over the summer, him and I. He confided in us about Malfoy actually. It brought us all closer together, you could say."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "George told you how he felt then?"

"He didn't have to Hermione. As his twin, it's pretty obvious. You just tend to notice when your twin suddenly starts paying someone else more attention," Fred said, half jokingly. It was countered by the sad look in his eyes.

"I guess Harry doesn't feel the same way then."

Fred shook his head slightly. "That's the thing…I'm not even sure. Harry and George used to go off together sometimes, without me I mean. I've no idea what they used to talk about. But whatever it was, it only hooked George even more. He hasn't been the same since Harry started hanging around with us this past summer."

"I suppose I wasn't much help in that either," Hermione said softly, remembering how she and Ron would go on walks together, feeling as though Harry was avoiding them.

Ron could only talk about how horrible he felt during those times. Yet, there were times when Harry and Ron had been inseparable as well, and she often watched them outside Ginny's window playing Quidditch, chasing after each other, laughing as though they hadn't a care in the world.

"I think it was all miscommunication. Harry didn't want to get in the way of you and Ron…and you both figured Harry wanted space."

Hermione looked up into Fred's eyes. "Me and Ron? But…we're just best friends."

Fred stared at her.

"What?" Hermione asked her voice slightly louder. "Ron and I are just friends!"

"But…even after you…you…"

They both seemed to blush at precisely the same time.

"It was your lipstick, if you recall, that caused me to do that. But yes, I suppose there are some feelings there that aren't necessarily friendship…"

"Hermione!" exclaimed Fred, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"Well what would you like me to say? I suppose, yes, we're attracted to each other. We've never kissed, nor have we ever spoken about our true feelings for each other!"

"Well I think it's bloody obvious that you two are going to eventually get together."

Hermione looked at him for a long moment, weighing her words carefully. "And what exactly gives you that idea?"

Fred nearly choked on air.

"Do I…what?" Harry was at a loss. He knew he and Ron had been dancing around this matter for what had to be a solid three months now. It was a question that Ron never asked, and a question that Harry never offered an answer to.

They had been content in their ignorant bliss of the situation between the three of them, and Harry would have gladly continued on with it, until Ron had just tossed that question out there. Oh boy was it out there. It hung in the air between them like a dirty sock hanging from the ceiling. Harry wanted to just snatch it and throw it in Ron's face and run away like a coward. He certainly felt like one.

In reality, Harry could just as easily lie and say that he didn't like Hermione that way at all, because (besides it being the truth) it was just much simpler to do it that way. But the only problem with that was, Ron wouldn't believe him. Not with the way things were currently going. Harry didn't have a girlfriend and Ron certainly didn't know about Harry's preferences. He could have also admitted to false feelings for Hermione…but Ron would start feeling awkward, hell, maybe he'd even avoid Hermione just to give Harry his fair chance. He'd probably also turn around and tell Hermione. Who in turn, would turn back around and scream at Harry for lying to her best friend.

Honestly, what the hell was he supposed to do?

"Look Ron—" Harry started, having no idea in hell what he was going to say, but was almost immediately interrupted by Neville who had come bursting into the room, a flower pot in hand.

"Oh!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Shouldn't you both be getting to class now?"

Harry breathed out a deep sigh, brushing the hair back from his face. In that movement, he missed the darted glance Neville shot at Ron, and the "shooing" motion Ron made back at him.

"Right…let's go," Harry announced with finality, heading towards the door.

He missed the quiet whispered "sorry" Neville shot at Ron on their way out.

Fred's mouth opened slightly, his eyes wide. He resembled a gaping fish.

Suddenly, the portrait hole shot open, and in ran Neville. He waved to both of them as he darted up the stairs. Hermione smiled as she watched him scurry up to the Gryffindor boys' dormitory.

"You mean you don't think you and Ron will end up together?"

Hermione's gaze shifted back to Fred's then, her expression serious.

"Everyone may call me a know-it-all, Fred. But not even I can predict the future."

"Ha! You don't even believe in that stuff, Hermione." Fred and Hermione's gaze snapped to the stairs, where Ron, Harry and Neville were now descending from. Hermione looked back at Fred, the corners of her mouth curled upwards in an amused smile.

"Of course not, Ron," she said quietly, turning away from Fred, joining Ron and Harry at the foot of the stairs.

"You've got Charms with the 3rd years now, don't you Fred?" Ron asked, looking past Hermione at Fred.

"Yah, was just going," Fred murmured quietly, turning away from them, gathering his books off the table.

When Hermione, Harry and Ron (Neville had parted ways with them, as he had to deliver something to Professor Sprout) began to walk towards their Transfiguration class, Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "Is something wrong with Fred?"

Hermione did not answer right away, pretending to check her knapsack for something first. When she closed it again, she looked up at Harry.

"He was just a bit nervous that I'd turn him in to Mrs. Weasley. He didn't seem off to you, did he Ron?"

Ron snapped his head up, as he had been looking at the ground. "Uh…no, I didn't notice anything."

Harry grinned at him and shook his head. Ron half smiled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"The thing I don't get," Ron said, shrugging unconsciously, trying to get his mind focused on the conversation at hand, "is why we have Transfigurations with the Slytherins. It's bad enough we have Potions and Herbology with them. But Transfigurations? We should be with Ravenclaws. They'd never start something and that way, people are less likely to have a wayward spell shot at them."

"Like last year," said Harry darkly, remembering the spell Malfoy had (purposefully) shot at Neville, causing him to turn into a toad. Trevor, who had been sitting on Neville's desk at the time, immediately attacked him, thinking he had been "cutting in on his territory". That had only been a few weeks before Christmas holidays.

"Malfoy is such an evil little git. Can't believe we have to sit through another class with him."

Harry's eyes had darted to Hermione's face then, watching her reaction to Ron's words. They were approaching the Transfiguration classroom, and their fellow Gryffindors could be seen going into the doors. Hermione's face, however, remained blank and emotionless. Harry knew that he had promised Malfoy that he would talk to Hermione about her feelings for the blond. Harry still had no idea how he was going to manage to do that.

And to think, it was only the second day.

Malfoy and his band of Slytherins arrived not long after Harry, Ron and Hermione had taken their seats. Harry sat between Seamus and Dean, while Hermione sat with Lavender, and Ron ended up sitting beside Neville. It was odd, because Neville usually sat with Hermione, and Dean and Seamus sat with the other girls in Gryffindor…

Why is everyone switching partners?

He shrugged the thought off andpulled out his wand, placing it on his desk. His fingers lightly brushed over the contours of the wood and he felt the familiar rush of magic through his veins.

He sighed mentally when felt, rather than saw, Malfoy sit down behind him.The hairs at the back of his neck stood on end,as he could feel the blond's gaze searing him from behind. He pushed the feeling to the back of his mind and began to focus on the lesson that McGonagall was about to begin.

-----------------------------

Hermione had been half listening to Lavender drone on abouther recent infatuation with a boy in Ravenclaw, who had recently asked her out.

"I turned him down," Lavender said, flipping her hair.

Hermione looked at her. "What for?"

"Well, isn't it obvious? I'm playing hard to get."

Hermione tried not to roll her eyes at the reply and pulled out her wand from her knapsack, keeping her eyes trained forward, making sure she did not glance to her left at the Slytherin who was currently plaguing her thoughts.

Hermione's fingers twitched involuntarily at the memory of Malfoy's lips on hers. She could only guess that it was the lingering affects of the spell that remained. But try as she might, she could not ignore the fact that she did not feel these things for Harry; nor did her affection for Ron cause her such longings.

It was Malfoy's silver tongue and icy, yet searing glances, which took her breath away. She recalled then, when she had been unconscious, lying in the hospital wing bed, her startling dream. She had been walking in a quiet, yet peaceful wilderness; her legs and arms bare. The sunlight had trickled through the high trees; making parts of the forest seem golden. She had been walking towards a small brook, which was waist deep. When she reached it, the forest began to darken. She lowered herself to her knees and slipped her bare legs into the water. It was cold and refreshing, for the night had been usually warm.

Peering down into the water, she had witnessed what appeared to be a shimmering light, and it was getting closer to the surface. She had stifled a small scream when a head broke the surface of the water, and it tilted backwards as hands came up to brush water out of its eyes.

Eyes, when they had opened, that had belonged to Malfoy.

Water droplets ran down his skin; his hair was pushed back off his face due to the water and his eyes were dancing merrily in the dimming light of the sun. His face had looked younger at first glance, but on closer inspection she had realized that the angry lines around his mouth were all but gone, and his face looked refreshed as though it had never witnessed any pain or sorrow. This Malfoy was of a whole different world.

He leaned forward, water dripping over her lap, causing her to shiver in the stillness of the forest. When his lips grazed her earlobe, she stiffened. Sitting there in the Transfiguration classroom, Hermione remembered the immense pleasure that had travelled throughout her body when his lips had grazed the shell of her ear.

"Join me," he had whispered, his arms coming around her and tugged her into the brook with him.

She had been naked in only a matter of moments.

When their lips came together, it had been the most startling feeling Hermione had ever felt. Her entire body felt like it burned and froze all at once. With her lips pressed against his, she could hear the beating of their hearts in her ears, and when he had entered her in a moment of climatic ecstasy, her entire being felt like it had shattered into thousands of pieces that seemed to embed themselves within him.

They had become one.

Hermione was startled out of her reverie when McGonagall began writing on the chalkboard. She leaned down to take out her notebook (which she had forgotten in the remembrance of her dream) and before she straightened again, her eyes locked with Malfoy's.

It was extremely difficult to concentrate after that. For his eyes looked the same as they had in her dream.

But so much more real.

It unnerved Hermione to be so undone by the mere whims of an infatuation. She steeled herself from glancing to her left again, and focused on what McGonagall was now saying. Her eyes were distracted by the very subtle movement of Harry.

Sitting diagonal from him, Hermione began to notice that his chair was slowly inching backwards. Her eyes darted to Malfoy, to see if he noticed. But he was glancing down at his notebook, writing what McGonagall was saying. Hermione's hand began flying over her notebook, quill in tow, writing word for word what the Headmistress was saying. Luckily, Hermione could still keep her eyes on Harry.

She didn't understand why, at that very moment, the knowledge of Harry and Malfoy previously having an affair together caused her insides to twist with pleasure. And jealousy.

This made no sense to her logical mind, as she could not be turned on by their togetherness as well as be completely put off by it. As Harry moved slightly, she suddenly saw the full profile of Seamus.

Who was staring, quite openly, at Dean. Who, Hermione could only assume, was staring right back at him. The obvious lust on Seamus' face caused Hermione's face to flush in the knowledge that she too had been thinking similar thoughts about someone else in the room.

We're nothing but a raging pack of hormonal teenagers.

She felt sorry for Harry then, having to be stuck in between the two obvious smitten couple. The fact that Seamus was practically drooling at the mouth caused Hermione to shudder. The sight she was witnessing provoked a series of images of Harry and Malfoy. Intertwined. Naked. And panting like dogs.

Hermione shook her head hard and returned her gaze to McGonagall.

If I plan to keep my grades up, I can't let this…thing…beat me. I've got to stay strong.

With that thought, Hermione shook the rest of her thoughts (and images) out of her head and turned her entire attention to Transfigurations.

It was only seconds later that Draco raised his eyes from his notebook and stared at the back of Harry's neck.

What had triggered the sudden movement was the familiar scent of Harry invading his nostrils, and he glowered angrily at the back of Harry's head. He also noticed that Harry's chair was moving backwards ever so slightly, which caused Draco to glance to both the left and right of the black haired boy.

Sure enough, he witnessed an eye-fuck-fest between Finnegan and Thomas. How revolting.

Draco began to tune McGonagall out as he began to contemplate the recent events.

After enduring the affects of the altered lipstick given to Hermione by Fred and George, both he and Granger seemed to develop unusual connection that led to his sudden need to be around her.

And his inability to stop imagining himself fucking her senseless.

Granger seemed to be interested in the Weasel, which made Draco sick to his stomach. His previous relationship (if you'd call it that) with Potter seemed to be causing problems all around. Draco would have loved to see the look on Weasley's face when he told him that he had been fucking his best friend for weeks, and all behind his back.

Draco still couldn't get over the fact that Harry was, quite possibly, in love with his godfather. If it were true…Draco didn't think he could ever forgive Severus. Firstly, Harry had told him it was unrequited love. The look on Severus' face when he had informed him that Harry had confided in him the true identity of his love made Draco's skin crawl. What if Severus was just messing with Harry's head? Using him? Maybe it was a secret plan that Draco was unaware of; a secret plot to overthrow Dumbledore and hand Harry over to the dark side. And in repayment—he'd receive Harry as a sexual pet.

Draco suddenly felt ill at that thought and, forcefully, threw it aside. As much as he'd love to pin the entire calamity on his godfather, he couldn't seem to fully believe that Severus would throw all his hard work away just so he could have Harry all to himself.

Especially if Harry was already in love with him.

Besides, what the hell did he care whether Potter got himself involved with Severus anyway?

It was odd how Potter seemed to have that sort of affect on people—everyone seemed as though they wanted a piece of him. Those closest to him that is. Especially that Weasley twin, who kept ogling Harry all throughout meals. It was only a matter of time before his feelings for Potter would blow up in his face. Draco could see it now. Hell, it'd probably cause a rift in the Weasley family.

Draco happened to glance up from his notebook in time to see that Potter had tucked himself back into his desk, and his body was hunched over it and was writing furiously. Draco had never seen Potter put such effort into his notes.

Nor had McGonagall for that matter, as she was walking directly towards Harry's desk, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

What the hell was Potter writing anyway? McGonagall hadn't written anymore notes on the blackboard, nor had she been saying anything worth writing down. The class was currently working on transfiguring a tortoise. Malfoy had only absentmindedly flicked his wand occasionally while lost in his own thoughts about Potter, to give the impression that he was actually practicing. When she finally reached Potter's desk, she stood over his hunched figure and cleared her throat. Potter stiffened, his hand no longer racing across the piece of parchment on the desk. Malfoy knew that Potter's brain was working overtime, trying to think of a reasonable excuse.

Poor Potter, Malfoy thought in amusement. Always getting caught.

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall began in an affronted tone, "May I inquire as to why you are writing and not practicing your transfiguration of your tortoise?" Harry looked down at the green shelled thing in front of him. It stared back at him blankly. Eyes began to turn his way from around the room, and Harry could feel his cheeks going warm at the attention overload.

"Sorry Professor," Harry said as quietly as possible, "I suppose I just got caught up in this—" Harry cringed and realized what he had said when he noticed her eyes dart to the parchment on the table with interest. He cursed his own stupidity.

"And what may that be, Mr. Potter?" By now, the entire class was looking at him in avid interest. He willed all the magic within him and demanded the floor swallow him up. Unfortunately, the only thing that happened was his tortoise transfiguring itself into a lock. McGonagall looked torn between looking impressed and annoyed.

"10 points to Gryffindor for that display of wandless magic, but I warn you Mr. Potter, if you do not tell me what is on that parchment, I shall be forced to give you detention for not paying attention in my class."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. Points and a detention with Snape? Honestly, Potter got away with everything.

When Harry did not answer immediately, McGonagall's face became very severe.

"Do no test me, Potter. Despite the Gryffindor Quidditch match coming up, I will see that you are punished accordingly."

The Gryffindors began whispering frantically to each other. Ron, who was on the other side of the room from Harry, shouted "Harry, don't be an idiot!" and then was smacked by Neville who gave him a pointed look.

Harry sighed mentally. It was far too late for that. He could feel Malfoy's eyes burning holes into the back of his head; waiting for what he would do next.

"It's…a letter to someone," Harry stuttered, purposefully avoiding all eyes in the room, his mind racing to find some plausible excuse besides the truth itself.

"A letter to whom, Potter?"

His mind scrambled for a name, any name, besides the one who it was actually to, but his mouth opened before he had time to think of a proper answer.

"Snape!" Harry almost shouted desperately. Harry could feel Draco's anger radiating off him in waves. He knew Hermione was looking at him with a peculiar expression and Ron's face was a mixture between incredulity and horror. Come on floor, open up!

"And why would you be writing Professor Snape, Potter?" she asked, with eyebrows raised.

"Because…" Harry trailed off, cursing the floor, Malfoy, and the whole bloody world. "Because we had a bit of a row in the halls the other day, and I wanted to write him an apology letter. Um…to make up for all the horrible things I've done to him."

He knew it sounded ridiculous, even to his own ears. He could see Ron's face turning an ugly shade of red. Neville was trying to get him to stay in his seat—he was having quite a difficult time.

Harry, despite the lie, had a letter of similar contents written within it. It was up in his room, locked away in another special box that Severus had given him to store their already written letters to each other. Harry concentrated hard. He imagined himself holding that letter in his hands, he repeated the familiar words in his head and he remembered all the emotions he had felt when writing that letter.

McGonagall obviously did not believe him. When she reached for the parchment, Harry saw the letters scramble around the page, but she seemed not to notice. Harry silently thanked whoever was listening. It would have been quite the interesting situation—McGonagall would have read any other letter aloud.

He watched her eyes scan the page, and then, without warning, she burst into tears.

"Oh…Harry…this is the most moving—" and suddenly a handkerchief appeared out of thin air, and she blew her nose into it loudly. Harry let out a slow breath. Thank Merlin for McGonagall's soft side.

She was making quite a scene and he noticed everyone trying to get up out of their seats to see what was written on the letter. Harry began to panic and immediately reached for the letter.

"I'm sorry Professor, for writing it in your class. I'll put it away immediately."

"Would you like to send your letter to Professor Snape now, Mr. Potter? I have my owl here."

"No! I…I rather give it to him in person, if you don't mind."

"I certainly don't mind at all. I'm sure Severus will be pleased. Ever since you first arrived here, he's been a bit out of sorts. He always found it upsetting that you both never got along."

He heard a stifled snort from directly behind him and knew that he'd pay for her comment later.

Oh McGonagall, you have a loose tongue when you get emotional

Harry smiled weakly at her. "Perhaps we should get on with the lesson, Professor?"

"Quite right, Potter. Now, where was I…"

Harry sunk back into his seat, folding the piece of parchment carefully and placing it into his bag. The truth of the matter was, he was composing a letter to the person he was in love with. He didn't know what struck him as so important to begin writing such a letter in the middle of class. But what was done was done. He supposed Snape would get a kick out of it too, for McGonagall would no doubt inform him of the incident. This meant that he probably should send Severus an owl informing him before the Headmistress caught up with him.

He wouldn't be surprised at all if Severus did give him detention. Harry smiled at the thought, flicking his wand to return his tortoise to its original form. It had always been in his nature to do something like that, even if he was amused by one of Harry's antics.

Severus' feelings for Harry didn't interfere with their academic relationship. If anything, it only made things easier. Harry learned faster and more efficiently when Severus was less cruel and more understanding. Harry thought about Severus' softer side as he looked around the room to see how the rest of the class was fairing. Hermione had already transfigured her tortoise many times over. Ron, he was surprised to see, had managed to transfigure it right in front of McGonagall, who had just been walking by. She had awarded him five points and he beamed with pride. Ron's gaze had glanced over to Harry then and Harry gave him the thumbs up, grinning happily.

Everything had been going well for the rest of class—except for one tiny detail. The only person still paying him any attention was Malfoy—and he was whispering heated insults that only Harry's ears seemed to catch. They made his blood boil.

"It's disgusting, Potter. He's old enough to be your father. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he did your father. I mean, you're interested in him after all. I wonder if your mother knew about it. Maybe she joined them."

It had gone pretty much like that until McGonagall had told them to pack up and head to their next class. Harry gathered up his things very slowly, trying to calm himself down. It would do no good to turn on Malfoy in the middle of class in front of McGonagall (Malfoy was Severus' so called favourite student after all), especially while all the other students were around. Hermione and Ron waited for Harry at the door to the classroom and Harry took a deep breath for stepping outside. Hermione and Ron didn't seem to notice his change in demeanor or the way he held his back unnaturally straight as he began to walk down the hall. He was just about to let out a breath of relief when he heard the familiar drawl from behind him. Time seemed to slow down as he stopped and turned around. Ron was on his right and Hermione on the left. Malfoy stood ten feet in front of him—alone.

"Writing letters to Snape in the middle of class? Sounds like someone has taken too many bludgers to the head if you ask me."

Harry stared at him, his face emotionless, but his eyes had clouded over in anger.

"What's wrong Potty? Something got your tongue? Or maybe you're too ashamed of your own stupidity."

"Harry, Malfoy's just talking out of his arse. Come on," Ron said, ignoring everything Malfoy was saying, tugging on Harry's arm.

Harry didn't even notice the strange way Hermione was reacting to Malfoy's presence. Her fingers were twitching; clenching and unclenching as though she could not figure out how to hold her hands. She felt as though she could jump out of her skin.

"What are you so afraid of Potter? The truth? Come on, being in love never hurt anyone. Well, maybe it'd hurt you, because only you would be stupid enough to—"

Harry flew off the handle then, his body ripping forward violently but Ron's arms came around him just as quickly as he started forward. Harry struggled against Ron's grip, his face contorted in absolute anger. Malfoy's eyes widened slightly, taking a step backward in fear.

"Merlin Potter, maybe you should get your head checked out. You've obviously gone mental," Malfoy muttered. His gaze flickered to Hermione; their eyes locking for a moment before Draco turned on his heel and walked away in the opposite direction.

Hermione wanted to spit after him in anger. But the thought almost made her topple over. She quickly pushed her anger aside and focused intently on controlling her emotions. She knew if they got the better of her she'd end up in the hospital wing again. And she had no intention of giving Malfoy the satisfaction.

"Oy Harry, it's just Malfoy," said Ron soothingly, still holding onto him, as though he'd still run after Malfoy. Harry's face flushed; he'd kill Malfoy for working him up like this, especially in front of his best friends.

Harry yanked himself from Ron's grasp roughly. He ignored both their stares as he continued walking towards their next class. His magic was coursing through his veins like an adrenaline rush—he felt as if he could punch a hole in the stone wall and continue punching stone until his hands broke into pieces. His body was tense as they walked to Charms, where Fred and George would be—Hermione and Ron trailing cautiously behind him.

The Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws had Charms that morning for the first time since arriving back at school. Most of the Ravenclaws were already present in the room by the time the Gryffindors had arrived for most of them had just finished their Magical History class which was only just down the hall. Thankfully, by some miracle, the moment when Harry stepped through the classroom doors, his anger died and his body immediately relaxed. He glanced around the room and noticed various traces of spells were floating through the air. He knew from experience that it must have been calming dust that Fred and George had created from the original liquid. Harry smiled and turned around to look at Ron and Hermione.

Ron looked as though he was afraid to say something to Harry, due to Harry's previous outburst with Malfoy. Harry offered the red head a reassuring smile and Harry was relieved to see Ron give a tentative one in return. Harry then heard his named called and he turned to look at Fred and George who were walking straight towards them, while Flitwick began to ask the students to take their seats.

"Harry," said Fred, slapping him on the back. "Welcome to the rest of your final year."

Harry would have rolled his eyes but then he looked around the classroom and realized that it was entirely different. There were colours everywhere; the sun poured from the roof in a spectacular way—almost like looking up at the ceiling in the Great Hall, but somehow completely different. He didn't understand how he could have completely missed that the fact that the entire room was now without the row of desks—until he looked up. The desks were suspended in midair, leaving the entire room free to move around. Professor Flitwick was currently teaching the students on how to spell themselves up to their desks. It was quite a sight to behold.

"Wow," breathed Harry quietly. Ron and Hermione were deeply impressed too.

"Oh Fred and George!" Hermione squealed and threw her arms around both of them. Harry had never seen Hermione so enthusiastic since their first year. It made Harry feel as though he'd gotten a glimpse of his youth once more. When Hermione stepped back from them, Fred and George were making faces.

"Oh sure Hermione. You get angry at us for inventing an awesome lipstick but you think we're geniuses by rearranging a classroom and suspending students dangerously from midair?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If it were dangerous, Professor Flitwick would have never allowed it. How do you manage to keep them up there for long periods of time?"

"Well, there're not actually suspended in midair. It only looks that way. It's an invisible substance that George and I created that can hold thousands of tones of weight at a time. I suppose it's useful in a sense. Good for decorating actually."

"I think it's brill," Ron said, clasping his brothers hands in a handshake. "Do you think I could borrow some?"

Fred and George looked at each other for a moment before returning their gaze to their younger brother.

"Why would you need to borrow it Ronnikins? Plan to do some redecorating?" Fred asked teasingly.

Ron usually responded negatively when referred to by that name, but the red head only smirked at his older brothers and shrugged. Fred and George grinned.

"Oh, secrets from your big brothers eh Ronald? Well, this shall never do."

"You'll find it, in due time," Ron said mysteriously, winking at Harry. Harry couldn't fathom why on earth Ron would want to use such a substance.

"Alright mates," George said, taking out his wand. "To get up," George pointed up at the desks, "You must tilt your wand like so," he demonstrated the movement with a slight flick of his wrist and a downward point, "and make sure that the tip of your wand is pointed directly at your shoe."

"And then, with a swift upwards motion to point it at the desks and say in a firm clear voice 'Up!'" finished Fred, following through with the motion and ended up at a desk beside Neville, who was looking rather pale.

"Oy Neville, motion sickness is it?" asked Fred, putting an arm around the disheveled looking boy.

"No," muttered Neville weakly. "Heights."

"Oh well Neville, no reason to worry! You're quite safe up here." To demonstrate his statement, Fred gripped the bench the lot of them were seated on with the backs of his legs and attempted to knock it in motion. The force of the motion seemed to follow through as Fred expected and many of them were shoved sideways. Students clung to their desks, all of them leaning forward to glare hatefully at Fred. Fred threw up his arms and cackled happily before disapperating beside Neville and apperating beside Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Alright you threw, up you go!" George said, pointing his wand at each of them and carrying out the movement. Harry felt his stomach move up to his mouth when George lifted him up through the air. He landed on the last seat on the bench; Hermione beside Neville, and Ron in between Harry and Hermione.

It wasn't so bad really, Harry thought to himself, peering down beside him at the uncovered floor. It was almost like being on a broom. Except you didn't exactly have the snitch to take your mind off the fact that you could fall to your doom at any given moment.

"Well," said Flitwick, clapping his hands together in excitement. "I welcome you to 7th year Charms. NEWTS will be right around the corner before you know it, and I expect you to work diligently for the next eight months of your schooling. The charms that you will be expected to learn will be both difficult and challenging and they require your complete concentration. Luckily, I have both Fred and George Weasley to aid me in my instruction, so that you will have the opportunity to be the best you can be. Gentleman, I now give you the floor."

Fred and George stepped into the middle of the room where Flitwick had been and peered up at the surrounding students.

"Just a reminder to all students: although we'll be here for the next year, does not mean that you can't still order our products! Christmas time we'll have a huge sale on all items, so please feel free to ask us about any product you may be interested in—"

Flitwick cleared his throat and Fred bowed graciously.

"Of course. 7th Year charms. Well, what can I really say? Both George and I didn't even complete our 7th year thanks to a particular someone—"

"—But we won't mention any names here," George continued. "We still managed to pass our NEWT exams, so in truth we are in fact bonified wizards. Charms are our specialty, if they weren't—"

"—We obviously wouldn't be in this position now," Fred said, winking at all of them. "So without further ado—"

"May 7th year Charms begin!" With that shouted statement, Fred and George flicked their wands dramatically which caused the entire row of desks to spin around the room like a merry-go-round. Most of the students laughed loudly in surprise, while some (namely Neville) gripped onto the desk for dear life. Harry, having only ever gone to a Muggle theme park once in his life, had managed to sneak on one rollercoaster when Vernon and Petunia had not been looking. It had been something of an experience alright, and Harry had thrown his arms up in the air in pure joy. He did so just then, which hadn't been the best of ideas. Being surrounded by other students, it was alright to not to necessarily hold onto the desk. But with Harry being on the very end, and the force of the spell, Harry found himself whipped off violently. When he hit the floor, he landed on his back, which surprisingly hadn't hurt as much as he thought. When he rolled over to his side, he realized that he had left an impression in the floor. When he pressed down onto it, the floor moved as though it were clay.

George had rushed to his side immediately, his face slightly pale, though he smiled reassuringly at Harry when he checked him over. Fred was laughing loudly when he walked over to Harry.

"I put you on the end mate, knew you'd fall off. Thought I'd test out the floor too."

Harry gave him a weak smile before falling back onto his side and passed out.

George raised his eyes to his twin, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Fred shrugged and smiled sheepishly, turning to Flitwick to distract him from Harry as George carried him out of the Charms' classroom.

Merlin, Fred thought, as he stilled the students from spinning. He mentally cursed Ron for muttering hateful things to him in front of the rest of the students, for allowing Harry to be thrown off. As though he did it on purpose! (Well, he did, but not so he'd get hurt…)

Doesn't anyone know how to have fun anymore?

Harry felt incredibly groggy when he opened his eyes. George was beside him, looking as though he was the one who had knocked Harry off the spinning desks.

"Harry, are you alright?" George asked, helping Harry sit up. Harry grimaced slightly at the taste in his mouth.

"Yah I'm fine, but why does my mouth taste like dung?"

"That would be a chemical replenishing potion, Mr. Potter. When you were thrown from the bench, your body must have gotten quite a scare," Madame Pomfrey said, coming over to him and checking him with her wand.

Harry's cheeks heated. "I wasn't scared. I'm always up on a bloody broom, I don't just pass out."

Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes at his embarrassment. "The lack of sleep combined with your recently raised level of magical ability triggered it, Potter."

"Recently raised level of magical ability?" asked George, his eyes darting from Harry to Pomfrey.

"It seems as though Mr. Potter had a brush with someone not to his liking. Normally, these sorts of things don't usually happen with students. It's a rare occurrence. According to my tests, a strong wave of anger consumed him and seemed to stir up quite a bit of magic inside him, disrupting his overall inner core."

"My inner what?" asked Harry, his eyes wide. He didn't even know wizards had inner cores, or something as ridiculous as that.

"Think of it as your magical powerhouse, Mr. Potter. I've no idea what made you so angry at the time, but it was enough to send a surge of magic so powerful, that the mere fall you had set your body out of sorts, which caused you to finally react to the surge, albeit much later."

Harry felt like he had a headache.

"What got you so angry, Harry?" asked George, looking at him with concern.

"Oh you know, just Malfoy…McGonagall caught me writing a letter to the…" Harry trailed off, looking at Madame Pomfrey. She seemed to take the hint and huffed; turned on her heel and walked towards her office. Harry lowered his voice anyway. "The person that I'm in love with."

"I see," said George, feeling his insides twist painfully. "So what happened?"

"Well, I said something rather stupid. I told her I was writing an apology letter to Snape. She didn't exactly buy it, like I knew she wouldn't. So I summoned up all the power within me to change the letter so it actually was a letter to Snape."

George looked deeply impressed. "That makes a lot of sense Harry. I mean, you passing out like this."

Harry glared at him slightly. George held up his hands. "Hear me out. I just mean that you had already performed one act of powerful magic this morning, then with your confrontation with Malfoy, the surprising fall you head, on top of the lack of sleep the previous night, it's no wonder that your system couldn't exactly take it. You needed a good rest, so it went into shut down mode."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, running his fingers through his hair. "Yah, I suppose it does. Though I wish I'd stop fainting in front of everyone. It's becoming a rather annoying habit of mine."

"Harry, nothing in your life has ever been normal. You endure far worse than what most people ever have gone through."

Harry laughed, looking into George's eyes. "Oh, it's not all bad."

George felt himself flushing slightly. "No, of course not. You've got us to help you through it!"

Harry gave him a thankful smile. "George, I don't suppose you could assist me up to Gryffindor Tower? I could use the company."

George grinned and helped him up from the bed. "No, not at all, Harry. I'm sure Fred can handle himself. Do you need something up there?"

"Yah," said Harry, grinning ruefully. "I could do with another nap before lunch."

George had returned for the last twenty-five minutes of class. Bringing Fred to the side of the class as they watched the students practice their first spell of the year, George informed his twin about what happened with Harry.

"So yes, it wasn't entirely your fault," George said begrudgingly. Fred patted George on the back.

"Oh come on, George. You know I'd never intentionally hurt Harry. I was just having a bit of fun. You know, fun? You do remember what that is, don't you?"

George smiled slightly. "Yes Fred, I haven't forgotten. I guess I've just had other things on my mind."

Fred made a face at him. "Merlin, if that's what being in love does to a person, count me out."

George sighed tiredly, gazing around the room. He whispered quietly, "It's not really something you can control Fred."

After George had left Harry at the Gryffindor portrait, he had wandered upstairs to the dormitories. He stood for a long time at the top of the stairs, thinking about his recent encounter with Malfoy and wondering why he had affected him so much. He knew it had nothing to do with Malfoy. But it had everything to do with his secret getting out. Sure, Malfoy had no clue when it came to how Harry truly felt, but it was not as if he wanted Malfoy spreading rumors about him and Severus. Severus would be beyond angry if word had gotten out about their relationship, and Harry would probably never get to see Severus again, except behind his desk in Potions, where Severus had free reign to make his life a living hell.

When Harry opened the door to his room, he found a rather shocking sight. Seamus and Dean were rolling around on the floor, moaning and grunting. Naked. Harry's eyebrows shot up past his hairline, and his jaw dropped open. Then, without warning, he laughed loudly.

Dean and Seamus stopped their movements instantly, both looking up at Harry, their eyes wide. Dean was the first to snap out of it, flushing (as much was possible with his dark skin) and hid his face against the crook of Seamus' shoulder. Seamus grinned up at Harry.

"Hiya Harry." Then Seamus lowered his mouth to Dean's cheek, kissing it softly. Harry could hear Seamus whispering to Dean quietly, but loud enough for Harry to hear.

"You were right, love. My locking charm is pretty pathetic." Harry rolled his eyes and walked passed their intertwined bodies and hopped gracelessly onto his bed, peering down at them over the side.

"You two were the most obvious couple, mates." Harry cocked an eyebrow at them, smirking slightly. Dean was trying to hide against Seamus, while the handsome Irishman returned Harry's smirk.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he Harry?" Seamus cooed, while Dean groaned and sat up abruptly, glaring at Seamus.

"You both are," Harry purred huskily, as he gazed at the two naked bodies in front of him. Dean and Seamus' faces appeared shocked for a moment, but then their faces broke out into depraved grins.

"Why Harry, we had no idea you cared," Dean leered, suddenly becoming less self consciousness about his state of undress. Seamus' sudden interest in Harry's sprawled out figure caused Harry to shiver with anticipation. Both boys crawled up onto the bed beside Harry and they clawed at his clothes.

Seamus lowered his mouth to Harry's ear and purred seductively, "Come on Harry, stop hiding."

Dean joined him on the other side, flicking his tongue against Harry's ear, whispering tauntingly, "You should tell him, Harry…"

Tell him….

Harry tilted his head back and moaned as he felt two sets of hands squeezing his bare thighs.

Harry

The hands wrapped around his length, teasing him mercilessly—

Harry…

They teased the head of his cock until he was aching for release; he began thrusting his hips upwards, his head thrown back in abandon. He was almost there—almost

Harry…Harry….HARRY!!!!!

Harry's eyes shot open immediately, and he saw a tall figure, but his vision was blurred, he squinted slightly. It was him…it had to be him…he was here, he was finally going to get to tell him—

Harry's erection was digging into his beloved's thigh, and he began thrusting against him wildly, moaning loudly, his body shuddering uncontrollably; his eyes began to clear—he looked up, his lips forming the name of—

"FRED!" Harry's voice was half startled, half aroused from the dream. Merlin, he couldn't believe he thought Fred was…Oh this wasn't good. Harry's face was on fire; he couldn't look at Fred after he realized it was him. Harry knew that he had come; the evidence was plain from how uncomfortable his boxers felt.

"Harry…look at me."

Slowly, Harry finally raised his eyes to Fred's.

Fred was laughing.

Around five minutes before Charms had finished, George convinced Fred to go to Gryffindor tower to apologize to Harry for his recklessness.

"Are you barmy? Apologize when I wasn't even responsible for his collapse? The kid should be more careful as to whom he talks to."

"FRED!"

And that had been the end of that argument with Fred rushing out of the classroom and up to Gryffindor Tower. Fred knew that Harry was supposed to be asleep, so he thought going in to wake him would be a bad idea. But when he heard what had sounded like Harry screaming in pain, he rushed in immediately to help.

He ran to Harry's bed, threw back the curtains and basically threw himself onto Harry. His body froze when he felt Harry's erection pressing into his thigh; his hands were gripped on Harry's shoulders, his eyes extremely wide with shock. His brain was running a mile a second: Oh Merlin, he's having that kind of dream; I can't believe I'm witnessing this, come on body, MOVE! Get away, oh Merlin what if George finds out about this...

"Harry! Harry! HARRY!"

What Fred wasn't aware of was that after Charms had finished, George had rushed to Gryffindor Tower, to see if he could catch the end of Fred's apology to Harry (because he obviously wasn't very trustful of Fred right now). When he got there, he climbed the stairs to Harry's dormitory. He paused outside Harry's door when he heard Harry moaning. He knew it was that kind of moan (unlike Fred of course) because the sound went straight to his groin, his legs almost buckling.

He didn't understand why Harry was making those noises. Fred was supposed to be apologizing to him--he should be--

And then the most horrifying of thoughts passed through George's mind, and he gripped the sides of the door, leaning on it for support. There was no way Fred could be doing anything to Harry. His Harry. Not Fred...not his twin...

And then the words that George dreaded to hear, came piercing through the door:

"Harry! Harry! HARRY!"

Bloody. Hell.

George's lungs constricted painfully and he shook his head to clear his head; he felt like he was going to pass out any second.

And then George fell backwards when he heard the final blow:

"FRED!"

It was Harry's voice. It sounded husky, even through the closed door. George felt like a Dementor had come up the stairs, sucking all the happiness out of him. He honestly felt like he could never be happy again. But he had to be. He had to put on a show...there was no way he'd speak to Fred about this. He couldn't. It was just...so overwhelming.

He let out a slow breath; he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. It was probably Ron, to come and check up on Harry. He immediately pushed himself away from the wall, determined to put up a good front. When Ron reached the top of the stairs, he looked at George and frowned.

"Is Harry not there?"

"No, I'm sure he's there. I just suddenly felt very exhausted coming up the stairs, had to take a rest."

Ron looked at him with concern, but chose not to say anything. When they both walked forward, as Ron pushed open the door, George's eyes landed on Fred and Harry. Harry's face was flushed and they were extremely close together.

Harry saw from the corner of his eye that George and Ron had entered the room, and he attempted to act as though nothing had happened.

"Did you--" Harry's voice cracked, while looking at Fred, "Did you want something Fred?"

George's mouth twitched, and before Fred had time to reply, George grunted out, with a dangerous edge,

"Yes Fred, what did you want?"

Fred, unlike Harry, had not seen his two brothers enter the room, so he appeared flustered for a moment before gaining his bearings once more.

"I um...just wanted to apologize, Harry. You know, for causing you to fall off like that. I guess I got a bit carried away."

Harry smiled and got up; grimacing at the feel of his boxers. He hoped that nothing showed and was extremely grateful that he hadn't bothered to take off his robes before he had fallen asleep.

Apparently it had been a dream after all. He felt whoozy when he stood up, his eyes still hazy from the remnants of immense pleasure.

Fred looked at George. Guilt washed through him--there was no way George could know. He hadn't been in the room. It had happened in the nick of time. But the way George was looking at him...he had not been familiar with George's anger. Ever. That began to change when George began to feel strongly for Harry. It only got worse when they arrived at Hogwarts. He supposed he should have seen it coming.

"George--" Fred began to say, but George turned away from him and walked out of the room.

Harry started walking towards the door as well, and Ron turned wild eyes to him saying, "Oy mate, are you alright? I was worried--"

"I'm fine, Ron." The tone of his words startled Ron. They seemed almost violent in the quiet room. Ron swallowed slowly, his gaze never leaving Harry's.

"All right...I'll leave you to your thoughts then." Ron stepped aside and allowed Harry to pass by him. Harry looked torn for a moment, before resolutely walking past him.

Ron looked at Fred then, who had the most rejected look on his face.

"I've never seen you or George look so serious before. I thought nothing could separate you."

"Until now," Fred whispered very quietly.

Ron's eyes widened. "What in Merlin's name do you mean by that?"

Fred got up from the bed very slowly, still feeling the pressure of Harry's erection against his thigh, and George's heated glare. The silent mantra repeating in his thoughts: He doesn't know, he doesn't know, he doesn't know...

"I reckon it's a matter of territory, Ron," Fred replied, his head lowered as he swept out of the room.

Ron looked around at the empty room, shaking his head tiredly. He turned around to exit the room as well and was almost knocked over by a very excited Seamus and Dean.

"Oy! Watch it will you?" Ron said, glaring at the two of them.

"Sorry Ron!" Dean gasped, glancing around at the empty room quickly. "I hate to be rude but--"

"--Get the fuck out," Seamus finished forcefully, as he slammed the door in Ron's face.

Ron walked down the stairs in a trance-like state, only to be bombarded by a worried looking Hermione.

"Ron, what's wrong with everyone? George looked livid, Harry looked exhausted, and Fred looked like the world was coming to an end."

"Not an end, Hermione," Ron murmured, glancing back up the stairs where the entire calamity had transpired; his face a mixture of confusion and hurt. "Just downright mental."


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Madi Black