By the way, I don't have internet right now. It's supposed to get fixed tomorrow (I'm at the library), and if it doesn't, well, hang in there guys. Thank you for all of your lovely reviews, by the way!

Chapter Twenty Five

Harry watched the dot labeled as Draco Malfoy make the long trek down from the Astronomy tower to the Slytherin dormitories. The walk took Draco at least an hour, if not more. It generally took someone twenty five minutes to make that walk. Something was definitely wrong with Draco, and he refused to tell Harry. He watched the dot make his way from the lavatory and onto his bed, and moments later, another dot moved next to him and then onto the bed. It was labeled Blaise Zabini.

Anger and jealousy coursed through Harry's veins like fire. Why was Blaise Zabini in his boyfriend's bed? Why was Draco letting Blaise get close to him when he refused to let Harry anywhere near him at all? He was beyond confused and he was also extremely hurt. He had refused to let Harry even touch him, yet Zabini was in fucking bed with him. Harry angrily wiped the map clean and shoved it in his bedside drawer.

He shoved the angry thoughts out of his head and pummeled his pillows until they were a suitable shape for humans and he laid down on top of the sheets. It was too warm for him to cover up with the down comforter, and his anger had caused his body to heat up exponentially. He frowned into the darkness, listening to his four other roommates snore. Neville grunted in his sleep right as Ron snored loudly. Harry wanted to hex the lot of him because he and Dean were the only out of the five that could sleep quietly. Harry tugged his curtains closed. It helped to muffle the sounds of his noisy mates a bit, and he rolled over onto his back.

Staring up at his deep red canopy was doing nothing for his whirling thoughts whatsoever. He knew that he couldn't get up and wander around the castle. It was almost three in the morning, and if he were to be caught, he would probably face a week's worth of detentions, despite the fact that he was The Chosen One. Harry pulled out his wand and began to draw lazy shapes in the air, leaving trails of light behind the tip of holly wood as he went. He needed a distraction, and magic was always there to offer itself. It was the one constant Harry had had in his life since his eleventh birthday, and he was eternally grateful for that.

Eventually, he must have managed to drift off to sleep, because he woke when Ron tripped over one of his shoes and slammed into the bathroom door. If he hadn't woke up when Ron swore loudly, he would have to the rest of the room's raucous laughter. Harry chuckled a little before the memory of what happened the previous night settled back in his mind and quelled his laughter. He removed his glasses and rubbed the dent in his nose that his glasses had caused. He removed his glasses before bed for a reason.
After Ron finished swearing so much that McGonagall probably would have expelled him for dishonoring the school, he leaned against one of Harry's poster frames, rubbing the bump that was raising on his head. "What's wrong with you, Mate? You look a bit worse for wear, if you don't mind me saying." Harry quirked his mouth slightly, as if to say "okay".

"Really, though, what's up?" asked Ron. "You haven't been this upset since the hols. Did something happen between you and... Malfoy?" Ron still struggled to say Draco's name without any hint of malice, but he was doing better than he had been previously. Harry looked away from his friend and pushed his glasses back onto his nose, throwing everything into focus once more. He felt the bed shift with Ron's weight as he sat down near the foot. "Do you want me to get Hermione?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't need Hermione to worry about him again. She had finally stopped trying to mother him at every turn, and he was grateful. Of course he probably needed to talk about it, considering how upset he was about the whole ordeal, but he didn't want to start unloading on people again. He had done that all last year and he wanted to put a stop to that. He hated weighing people down with his problems, and Hermione was pretty much his go-to-person since Sirius had died.

His throat constricted at the thought of Sirius. He had been pushing the thoughts of his godfather down all summer. He knew that they would surface eventually, and he would deal with them when it happened. He was one of the people who locked up everything inside of his head until the floodgates would burst and everything would go straight to shit, but he had to deal with it when it happened. He had done the same with Cedric, and it hadn't gone over well, obviously. He had gotten Draco out of the entire ordeal, at least.

"You sure?" asked Ron, beginning to get up from Harry's bed. Harry nodded, and Ron moved to get dressed. They were the last ones in the dormitory, and breakfast was no doubt starting any minute now. Ron would set the entire dorm on fire if he missed breakfast, and Harry rather liked his possessions unburnt. He didn't want to go to breakfast, though. He was in no mood whatsoever to see Draco, let alone Blaise. The thought of the dark-skinned boy made his stomach churn.

Harry got out of bed and dressed quickly after brushing his teeth and hair. At the moment, he could really care less about his appearance at the moment, but he knew that if he didn't try at all, Hermione would be onto his emotional state like a fly on honey.

Once in the common room, Hermione greeted the two boys with a smile on her face, but when she saw Harry, the smile faded a bit. She could tell that something was wrong. She always could. Harry tried to send a convincing smile her way, but she frowned even harder. She was going to wind up with premature frown lines. He mouthed, "I'm fine" and she shook her head. He sighed and they headed to breakfast.

"Draco, will you please stop freaking out? He will come to breakfast, you know. He didn't disappear from the castle grounds when he left you last night," Blaise said, stirring his tea with a spoon. "You need to calm down, alright?"

Draco exhaled hard and dropped his head into his hands. "Could you not say the words left you when they're paired with Harry? You're making me feel worse than I already do, okay?" He had been a complete and total arsehole last night to Harry, and he was feeling the after affects of it and the Cruciatus this morning. He had hardly slept at all last night, instead spending half of the night talking with Blaise. Over the summer, they had grown quite close compared to how their friendship had been the year before. Blaise knew that Draco was a Death Eater, and he didn't judge him in the least. Blaise had met Bellatrix himself and he understood that you could not say no to that woman and keep your life.

When Harry shuffled into the Great Hall behind Ginger and Granger, Draco stopped picking at his onion bagel and sat stock-still. He was waiting for something, anything, that would signify that Harry was not completely and totally pissed at Draco. No such signal came, and Draco closed his eyes. Blaise rubbed his back lightly, knowing that Draco's skin was still extremely sensitive after being held underneath the Cruciatus curse for so long the night before. Harry glanced over and Draco could see even from the distance they were at that Harry's eyes had hardened at the sight of Blaise touching Draco in such a caring manner, especially when Draco hadn't allowed Harry anywhere near him last night.

"Blaise, I think something's wrong," Draco said quietly, and Blaise leaned closer, his hand still on Draco's back. Draco wanted to shake it off, but the movement would cause his muscles to scream in protest, and he would rather not cry out in pain in the midst of everyone's breakfast.

"What is it?" Blaise asked, stealing a lemon poppyseed muffin from the center plate and ripping chunks out of it, finally removing his hand from Draco.

"I think Harry... he's got an idea that... something is going on between us," Draco whispered, his voice slightly pained. Would Harry honestly think that he would do that, that he would cheat on him? He thought that he had made it quite clear that he would never intentionally hurt Harry. Blaise coughed on his muffin.

"I think that ship sailed a long time ago, Draco," he said, quirking a dark eyebrow. Draco blushed and scowled.

"That is not the point, Blaise!" he whisper-shouted. "The point is that my bloody idiot boyfriend thinks that I'm cheating on him with you."

"What's wrong with me?" Blaise asked, offended, muffin crumbs on his chin. Draco let his head fall against the oak table with a loud thump.

"Everything is wrong with you, Blaise. Ev-ry-thing." Blaise muttered something unintelligible and Draco ignored him. He really needed to talk to Harry before this entire thing blew completely out of proportion, and it looked like it was well on its way there. He had made the promise to himself that he would spend as much time with Harry as he possibly could before the Dark Lord killed him, and he was going to keep that promise, not just to make himself happy, but to make Harry happy.