Chapter 12- Echoes of Former Truths

Lying on the floor, Harry drew in deep breaths; his entire body pierced with pain and he could not move. He felt extremely abandoned, defenseless against his peer. Harry clutched the back of his head, feeling a thick, warm fluid pour over his fingers. He was bleeding from when Seamus threw him back on the ground. He never pictured himself in such a position before; the boy Harry thought he had known had transformed into a monster. No longer were the days where they would both plan for secret meetings at night; Seamus had become much more demanding. Harry shook his head, feeling it throbbing, but to no avail. He needed to get back to his bed before Seamus returned; though he had risen in silence and made his way back to the common room, Harry had doubted that this was finished. Raising up to a sitting position, the walls swirled around him; his head felt so heavy and Harry could not regain his bearings. Dizziness overcame him, and Harry slowly lowered himself back on the ground. He felt like lying there until the darkness overtook him; Harry was so helpless he feared what Ron would say when he made it to his bed. His mate would surely suspect something, and Harry was in no mood to review the events of the night. Harry wrapped his arms around himself from the chilly air; he spun in all directions, feeling as though someone was watching him. Stifling back tears, he sniffed and sat up once again. I have to get out of here, Harry concluded. If anyone were to find him, he would have to explain himself; Seamus would not be pleased. Standing on his feet, Harry wobbled toward the stairs; he needed to collapse in the security of his bed, where no one could reach him. He stood, petrified at the thought; Seamus would be there. He blinked, trying to clear his sight from salty tears, and contemplated his actions. If he went back there, what were the odds that Seamus would assault him again with all his mates there? On the other hand, Seamus knew what he wanted, and obviously was not reluctant to stoop low to get it. Everyone would be sleeping, and Ron was the heaviest sleeper Harry knew. Screams and moans would not wake him; nothing sort of his hair catching on fire would stir him from sleep. Hermione would be dozing, long done with her homework and studies. Harry was alone, with no one there to stand up for him.


Waking with a start, Draco fell from his four-poster in alarm. His head screamed in pain, and he buried his face back in his pillow for comfort. Trembling, he clawed at his hair, searching for the source of torment. He bit his lip; Draco's mind pounded fiercely, and he could not bear it. He was unsure of what to do; peering through the crack in his curtains, he saw no stirring in the common room. Isolation seized him, and he struggled to focus on thoughts. This is not good, he thought. It was apparent that Draco was still weary from sleep as he slipped out of his bed; he tripped through the room. Applying pressure to his temple, he furrowed his brow in aggravation; he needed a walk to soothe his mind. Whenever Draco was experiencing headaches or other ailments, he always sought refuge, wandering around the school grounds absent-mindedly. Unfortunately, he could not help but wonder what caused such intense throbbing; he was having many problems so early in term. Usually, Draco would shake off such trivial aches; he had grown used to their recurrences. Tonight, though, Draco feared that this malady would never leave him. Leaning against a wall down the corridor, he rested his whole body; he felt incredibly weak, but he fought against it. You are only as weak as you think, Draco reassured himself. Inching along, he reached the entrance hall and tripped over a darkened figure, falling flat on his face. "What the bloody he!" he was cut short by a fierce blow to the face as he reached the floor. Crawling, he turned himself around to face what cost him his balance. His eyes grew wide in shock, and he forgot completely of all tingling he felt, except for that in his stomach.

"Harry?" he whispered in surprise, and drew close to the other, "Harry!"

Harry pushed himself upward with his arms, and he raised his head to face Draco. "Er…" Harry felt his face glow red, and he quickly wiped over his face in attempts to remove all trace of blood.

"What happened?" Draco reached over toward Harry, placing a trembling finger to Harry's chin. Examining the fallen Gryffindor's face, Draco grimaced in pain.

"Don't worry about it; I've just fallen over, that's all," Harry tried to ease Draco's anger.

"Yeah, not for the right one though," Draco mumbled softly, just over his breath. To his surprise, Harry heard his comment and nodded weakly.

"I suppose you could say that," Harry fought to climb to his feet, but sunk down to the ground.

"Here, let me help you-" Draco gradually rose to a stand, and offered his hand to Harry. Gingerly clasping his strong hands, Harry regained his footing and paused, staring deep into Draco's concerned expression. At a loss for what he had done wrong, Draco cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. Harry let go of Draco's protective grasp; fixing his hair casually, he glanced past the blond.

"Well, thanks Malfoy," Harry coughed mechanically, changing his tone from beaten to strong, "I'll see ya." Turning, Harry limped nonchalantly over to the stairs, intent on getting to his bed. Draco watched longingly after him while silently cursing himself. Obviously, Harry was not comfortable with him and Draco succumbed to the piercing in his head.

I can't stand being viewed as weak; I don't want any pity from anyone.

Draco slapped his head, forcing any thoughts to scatter. He was always left in the dark, isolated from those he loved the most; why would tonight be any different?


Draco woke to the sound of his own violent sobbing, and he shivered under the sheets of his bed now chilled with sweat. Coughing loudly to stop from sobbing further, he threw the covers over his head to hide from his roommates. After so many years hiding himself among the others, falsely playing up to everyone else's expectations except for his own, Draco did not want to give himself away over a nightmare. Contemplating the source of his fear, Draco wiped his brow at a loss; he could not recollect what had passed through his mind. Doom weighed heavily on his conscious, and Draco sensed that wrong had occurred. Was it Harry? No. He did not expect Seamus to be so exceedingly horny as to attack him once again. He knew it was nothing to do with the Slytherins, as he would not feel fear if horrendous events effected his house. His indifference was shocking, and very hard to conceal when in the presence of anyone else. Draco was confused as to what he was sobbing about; normally when he felt such a strong wave of emotion it followed up fear for Harry. Draco never responded on the emotional level to any plight not directly related to Harry; he supposed it was a trait he developed living in his household. Draco believed nothing would affect his father in the least bit; Lucius was strictly concerned with the success of the Dark Lord. In all truthfulness, Lucius was more concerned with Voldemort than that involving Draco or his mother. It sickened him that as time wore on, he became increasingly like his father. Something that always caused Draco to restrain himself from Harry was that he wanted to offer the Gryffindor true love. Harry suffered far too much, and Draco did not want to pursue him without being able to love him, as Harry needed. Kicking off the sheets, Draco grabbed a different blanket and threw it around him, rubbing his arms for warmth; he had to figure out why he felt so paranoid. Draco always experienced pain after worrying; his gut feelings never disappointed him, having some truth in them. Heaving a sigh, Draco could not help but feel as though part of his memory had been erased – the part he needed the most.
Creeping through the portrait hole, Harry combated his fears by trekking through the desolate common room; he grew nervous with every footfall. He expected Seamus to come stalking towards him, whipping his belt off in desire. Shaking the image from his mind, Harry slipped through the doorway into the dormitory. Cautiously tiptoeing across to his bed, he peered over to Ron's bed; the curtains were thrown back haphazardly and the sheets were strewn all over the place. The bed stood vacant, and Harry felt uneasy as he shifted around, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. It's not what you think, he reassured himself. Ron is probably off somewhere snogging Hermione. He grinned at the thought of his friends' happiness; unfortunately, what Harry thought was somewhat of a healthy relationship turned into an abusive one. He sniffed, feeling vulnerable; he longed to hang out with friends in a far off place. Harry could not feel comfortable in the silent dormitory, especially with Ron absent. He felt overly drowsy, and could not recall the last bit of the evening. Maybe Ron told Harry his plans, he was unsure now; all Harry could remember was Seamus' reckless disregard for Harry. Falling back onto his bed, Harry wrapped the covers all around his body, as if to ward off all possibilities of a continued assault. He could not bring himself to draw the curtains, though he wanted more than anything to hide; Harry needed to drop out of existence for a time. He shrank in his bed, determined to stay awake until Ron returned from his escapade. Lulling into a dream state, Harry slipped into a calm sleep; he sought comfort in his dreams, and all worries of Seamus or Draco disintegrated.
Ripping away the sheets and tearing the curtains aside, Ron felt his heart beat quicken every second. He jumped out of his bed, noting that Harry's was still neatly made; obviously, Harry was having a good time. Running nervous fingers through his hair, Ron took up his glass of water and downed it. Still shaking, he descended the stairs to the common room; he saw Hermione hunched over her studies, fast asleep. He rushed to her, and shook her awake to confirm reality.

"'Mione?" he questioned softly, sitting down next to her on an abandoned chair. "'Mione!"

"Mmmm…?" she raised her head in confusion, taking in Ron's urgency. She quickly wakened, and blinked away any remainder of sleep. "Ron? What's wrong?"

He sniffed, no longer able to avoid crying. Ron pulled her close to him, locking her in a tight hug as though he would never let Hermione go. She pulled away from him after a beat, caressing his cheek in comfort.

"Ron? What's going on?"

He eluded her questions, and continued to wear his frown as he searched for any fear in her eyes. "Are you okay? I mean, is everything alright? Nothing you want to talk about? Anything?"

"Ron, I'm fine," Hermione answered, adding softly, "But you don't seem to be."

"Oh…right," he calmed himself, readjusting his appearance to match her serene demeanor. "Nothing is wrong." He nodded in compliance with his words and grinned at her.

She continued to look concerned, and drew close to him, squinting into his facial expressions. "Are you sure, Ronald?"

"Yeah, now I am," but at this he started crying uncontrollably.

"Ron? What is going on? Please tell me."

"I'm just so happy you're okay," he choked out in between sobs.

"Well yeah, me t-" she started, sarcastically, but only to be interrupted by Ron.

"I-I love you."


Harry cowered in a desolate corner, pouting as Seamus pursued him further. Pinning the dark-haired boy against the wall, Seamus rustled Harry's locks playfully. Harry pushed Seamus forcefully, attempting to get away but to no avail; Seamus pounced on him, licking his face seductively. Peering around in complete confusion, Ron felt the wall support him as he took in the scene in its entirety. Several feet away from him, Ron witnessed a private counsel between Hermione and Malfoy. He shuddered in disgust, feeling his veins burst into flames; he was torn between the two situations he had to face. Stumbling forward, his thoughts jumbled all together, impairing his reasoning. Ron never felt so violated before; his two best friends no longer asked for his help or confided in him. Harry allowed Seamus to defile him continuously, and Hermione was getting on with Malfoy rather well, at least from Ron's standpoint. Thundering over to meet Malfoy, Ron gave a quick tap on his shoulder; Malfoy turned just in time to accept Ron's punch and gracefully fall to the ground. Ron towered over him, drawing in heavy breaths; time seemed to slow and he turned back to see Seamus' progress. Taken aback, Ron gulped in fear; Hermione replaced Seamus. Harry was booming with evil laughter, returning Ron's glare; longing to wipe the smile from Harry's face, Ron attempted to raise his feet but could not succeed. Diverting his eyes as Harry took Hermione into his embrace, Ron looked back to Malfoy. He read a clear expression of concern, and the blond strode over to place a hand on Ron's shoulder. His lips started moving as Malfoy described something in detail, a straight face accompanied with a furrowed brow; Ron could not hear the words that Draco formed. Sliding his hand down Ron's arm, Draco clasped his hand and tugged lightly; Ron accepted Draco's awkward change of character and followed. Devoid of feeling, Ron shivered at his numbness; he longed to regain his senses. Raising his gaze to discover their destination, Ron grimaced at the red tint that had paled his sight. He rubbed his eyes with the free hand, and peered down at his fingers, expecting them to be damp with blood. However, his vision still distorted in red, Ron felt nothing warm against his skin. Turning to Malfoy, he mouthed a silent plea; no words were uttered from his throat. Clutching his neck, he pondered the possibility of being deaf, but this just alarmed him further. Suddenly he doubled over in pain, coughing uncontrollably; Ron flailed his arms, groping for any security he could find. He gasped, blood pooling in his mouth; choking, Ron saw the glint off the blade tip. Shaking fiercely, he fell to his knees and wrapped both hands around the blade; it was as real as he was. Draco stood over him, patting him solemnly on the back, and Ron caught the words he mouthed. He sobbed, unable to think coherently or figure out what he should do. Harry, now right in front of him, continued to laugh in his face, with Hermione joining in over Harry's shoulder. His eyes rolling in their sockets, Ron fought off the harsh nausea that overpowered his entire body. Questions consumed his mind as he struggled to stand up; why was this happening? How could Harry do that to him? Was this a sick joke? Why was Hermione the only one that appeared in the light? The others grew dark around Ron. Wait, he contemplated, still choking on his blood; Draco was basking in light, too. Harry and Seamus were completely vanished and Ron's eyes pleaded with Hermione. She peered back, her face full of pity, as she seized the blade with both hands; Ron glanced down, and Hermione was now tugging at the hilt, attempting to pull it out of his chest. Placing an appreciative kiss on both her hands, Ron succumbed to the growing cold. Tears formed in his eyes and he collapsed on his back, Hermione holding the hilt of the sword with trembling hands; Ron found comfort in his drenched shirt. He was content with what had happened, a surreal feeling building; Ron trusted she had her reasons. All rage seeped out of him mixed with the red that now drowned him; as blood raised up to encompass his head, Ron knew there was not much longer left. The red cleared from his sight, and he glanced up into Hermione's face, as she assisted Draco in raising Ron slowly from the ground. Then the black overtook him and everything went completely dark; he cried out in aggravation, longing to see her face once again. Three simple words filled his ears and restored calm in his soul. Don't lose grip

He felt her embrace, as she knelt down to the ground cradling his head. Hermione shook with sobs, her teardrops falling onto Ron's face: his eyelids, his lips, his cheeks. She tightened her grip on his hand, but Ron could no longer bring himself to squeeze in response. As his breaths drew in slowly, Ron heard Draco's unformed words echo through his mind.

You should have seen it coming