17th of June 1994,
I solemnly swear that I am Harry James Potter Evans.
You'd think that five months would be enough time for two people to get past a little awkward mistake. That is really not the case here. Tracey and I still can't talk to each other properly or be in the same room alone without somehow becoming extremely uncomfortable. We tried, we really did. The relationship ran its course and we both agreed that we weren't going to work. So how come we still can't seem to hold a straight conversation with each other?
It really came to a head today too. After breakfast I was heading off to Arithmancy and along the way I saw Tracey, I guess I wasn't all that awake yet because I yelled out to her like I usually would and she just froze up completely. When I caught up with her I suddenly lost every word I had on my tongue and couldn't figure out what to say. I just ended up stammering out a good morning quickly followed by her returning it in a whisper. Then there was a long awkward walk to the classroom followed by us taking seats in the opposite ends of the classroom.
I didn't think that it could get any worse, but of course the universe was just out to prove me wrong once again today. After classes I did homework with Anthony in the library and then we just sped down to dinner so we wouldn't miss it. As we reached the great hall we heard a commotion going on inside. Malfoy was on one of his usual rants about his superiority and how is father was connected, bla, bla, bla. Then he suddenly began talking about how Hogwarts shouldn't be allowing blood traitors in this prestigious school. Of course Tracey rounded on him and then I, in my infinite wisdom, decided to butt in when Malfoy began barking back.
"What would some little blood traitor like you Davis even know about it?" Malfoy sneered towards the mentioned brunette.
"That's rich coming from you Malfoy!" Harry yelled as he walked up next to Daphne whom had stood a little behind Tracey.
"What's that supposed to mean, Potter?" the Malfoy heir sneered once again.
"I mean, doesn't your family come from a long line of shit farmers? I figured that was why you always had your hair like that; you have a surplus of feces lying around to get that perfect greasy look! I mean, the Davis family have been around since the time of Merlin… your family were still wading through cow manure at that time." Harry yelled back.
"Protecting your little traitor girlfriend, Potter?" Malfoy growled.
"What?!" Yelled Tracey as Daphne had to physically restrain her best friend.
"Everyone knows that you two have been snogging in the cupboards for the last few months. So of course Potter would stick up for you, he didn't want to risk losing you… I mean with standards like Potter, you really can't get much higher than a blood traitor." Malfoy replied haughtily as he glared at Harry.
Harry really wanted to reach for his wand and hex that look of Draco's face, but he couldn't risk firing here in the great hall, not when the teachers were going to arrive any moment now.
"We broke up; you know that Malfoy. You didn't shut up about it for two weeks. I didn't know you were so interested in my love life though, Draco. Sorry, but I don't swing that way." Harry finally retorted with a slight bit of disgust showing on his face.
Most of the gathered boys either laughed or gagged at the idea of Draco being even the slightest bit interested in men, and more than a few of them moved away from him, especially the Slytherins.
"You son of a mudblood!" Draco yelled in red-faced rage, "I'm sure you still have to beg a slag like Davis to show some attention to you, else I'm sure you would never get near any other girl!"
Harry shrugged in response, the sound of the teachers arriving stifling his harsher (read: violent) reply, "Watch how you speak about my friends Draco, who knows what could happened if you don't watch your mouth."
The threat hung loosely in the air and everyone was watching both the two boys and the teachers that had just entered the great hall.
"Potter!" Snape yelled, "Stop threatening my snakes, and that will be 10 points from Hufflepuff for threatening another student!"
"What, and Draco doesn't get punished for calling me a "son of a mudblood", or calling Tracey a slag?" Harry yelled in anger, forgetting for a moment that he was yelling at a teacher.
"Is this true, Miss Davis?" Professor McGonagall asked, her expression threatening immediate punishment to anyone that would dare lie about this.
"It's true Professor. Draco was badmouthing half-bloods and then when Tracey began arguing back, Harry stepped in and Draco began yelling at Harry, calling him that filthy curse, as well as that horrible name to Tracey." A young brunette, Hermione from Gryffindor, said to her head of house.
"Anyone supports this?" McGonagall asked out into the great hall.
A few other students raised their voices in confirmation and McGonagall turned her stare towards a now slightly shaking Malfoy Heir.
"Mr. Malfoy! That will be 10 points from Slyhterin for each of those horrible names. Then you will serve detention with me for the next week!" McGonagall announced.
Snape looked like he wanted to protest, but one looked from McGonagall made the head of Slytherin house back down quickly.
Once everything had calmed back down, Harry was left alongside Travey who was staring at him harshly.
"I don't need you to watch out for me!" she yelled before storming out of the great hall, leaving a stunned and confused Harry behind.
I didn't see her for the rest of the day, and from what little I could get out of Daphne, it would seem that Tracey was still dealing with some lingering feelings for me and helping her like that felt like I was giving her false hope that I might still feel something for her as well. I think I need to take Anthony's advice and just give her as much space as she wants until she is ready to talk to me again.
This is Harry James Potter Evans going to bed.
That had definitely not been a bright moment in their history together. The last two days of the year, Harry didn't talk to Tracey and even told himself that he wouldn't talk to her either through the summer. If she contacted him, then sure, he would answer, but otherwise he would keep to himself and enjoy the trip to France he had planned with his Godfather. With a little smile, Harry flipped the pages past his birthday, not much about turning fourteen, and stopped as he reached the entry from his second day in France. The day he met the Delacour family.