The Great Hall bustle was much quieter this time last year. And two years ago. And three and even ten years. The gloomy atmosphere hung in the air like an invisible fog. It slipped between the candles, mixed with the air. Everyone breathed it, inhaled this terrible mood. Bad time. A sad time.
Harry adjusted the glasses that were sliding down his nose. The sorting ceremony is about to begin. Who will hold the parchment with the names this time? If there are any names, of course. If anyone wants to attend Hogwarts. He looked around the room. The tables had half as many students as they did a few months ago.
Some did not show up for fear. Everyone preferred to be with the family - a deceptive feeling of security. Since it ran out ... Now Hogwarts just didn't seem like such an impregnable fortress, it wasn't the same paradise it used to be.
Other students were missing for a different reason - he looked with hatred at the deserted Slytherin table. The seventh and sixth years have almost completely disappeared. They all have disgusting marks on their forearms now." He snorted and looked down at the table.
When Harry ran into Draco Malfoy on the train, he was speechless. At least for a moment. Because a moment later, he wanted to tear it apart. What is this little devil, this trash doing here?! How dare he ...?! Tricky rat, what is he looking for here this time?! And to hell with the wands! He would do it with his bare hands. He could chew through his veins with his own teeth. He felt like tearing his skin with stripes, narrow, bloody tears. That he would feel the same pain that he, Harry, felt in his heart. He thought about who he had been tormenting since.
The anger still burned too much inside him to forgive Ron and Hermione. They hung on his shoulders - Hermione additionally threw a silencio at him. He supposed he would move on to tomorrow's breakfast - but now that he could still hear the idiot's laugh in his mind ... he couldn't look at his friends. He could not forgive them for such humiliation.
The presidential table was where he looked at it. There were also a few characters missing. The new Defense teacher was very thin andhaggard. He certainly did not make the best impression.
His heart tightened as he stared at the tall, throne-like chair. It was still empty. Professor McGonagall did not take him, although she was now the Hogwarts Director. And no one commented on it. As if everyone was under the illusion that Dumbledore just left for a while ... that he would be back ... To hell with them.
His fingers tightened on the edge of the table as his gaze slid further. In Snape's chair now sat comfortably sprawled Slughorn. But Snape ... No, Harry couldn't think of him right now. He was afraid to let himself think about him. At the end of August, in his room with the Dursleys, he had allowed himself to think about it ... He remembered Uncle Vernon's furious scream as all the windows on the second floor had shattered to fine dust. Yet Harry didn't even cast half a spell! It wasn't wind either, not stone or anything material. It was just pure hate. He just hated it. HATED.
He sighed deeply, pushing those memories out of his mind. Nor was Hagrid at the table - he was off to do something for the Order again. Or maybe he's just stuck in a cave with his brother? No, certainly not ... Hagrid wouldn't just back down, wouldn't give up. He would have fought till the end of ... The end ...? Harry clasped his hands together and fixed his eyes on them, praying as fervently as he could - albeit silently that Hagrid would stay with Grawp, lest he risk lest ...
He looked at the Slytherin table again. Draco Malfoy narrowed his eyes lazily as he talked to some fifth grader. He was paler than usual, still looking sick. Only the shadows under his eyes were not so distinct anymore - though his face was still emaciated. His cheeks were sunken - he looked like a rat. Or maybe the Gryffindor had just told himself that.
Suddenly their eyes locked; Harry gritted his teeth so as not to pounce on the bastard now. But he didn't look away. Malfoy made a mocking face and went back to the interrupted conversation, ignoring him completely.
A few candles above the Gryffindor table shattered in a cloud of sparks. But hardly anyone noticed it.
~ O-O ~
- Is it over yet?
Harry looked up at Ron. Now, aside from Neville Longbottom, they lived alone in the dormitory. Ron sat down on the bed opposite Harry, propping himself up with his hands.
- I think so. - He sighed finally.
- But...? The friend raised an eyebrow.
- But?
- Because I guess you've got some more buts. Weasley was grinning now.
- But don't ever silence me again. Never. Harry grinned too and threw a pillow at Ron.
And for that one moment it was like it used to be. When they threw pillows at each other, and then, when they talked about sports, brooms, when Neville came - late because he'd let himself be cast on his spell again ... For these few hours, Harry could pretend everything was fine.
But then it was time to go to bed. And late at night, Harry Potter gnawed the pillow very hard so that no one would hear his sobbing.
~ O-O ~
It was late afternoon. Harry walked down the hall towards the Headmistress's office. He had to know. He'd talked about it hundreds of times in the common room with friends. What is Malfoy doing here? Why didn't they lock him up in Azkaban as soon as he hit the horizon? It's so obvious! Cursed Death Eater, slimy reptile ...
"Harry ... I don't know if we should disturb ..." He felt Hermione tugging at his sleeve. - Professor McGonagall has so many responsibilities ... Especially now ... Maybe ...
"Hermione, this is about Malfoy!" He hissed, stopping. - He tried to kill all the last year ... - It didn't go down his throat.
"I know Harry ... But ... It's impossible that McGonagall would just let him go back to school." She had a reason. Good reason Harry. She looked into his eyes.
- Then let him show it to me! The whole reason. Let him tell me why it is this way! Why could this killer be here? He hissed venomously, though he was close to screaming.
- He's not the killer, Harry. She whispered softly. He looked at her, eyes narrowing.
- Is not? Oh yeah, he's not ... Just because he's a trash and a coward. He hit the wall with his fist. Hermione flinched at the gesture.
"If this were something we should know, someone would have told us long ago." Someone from the Order or ...
"Hermione to hell!" I saw it all, heard his every word! - He was screaming now. Slowly - or frighteningly fast, depending on your point of view - they released all his brakes. - After all, I deserve something from them! Some goddamn explanation!
Hermione looked at him for a moment. Only calm emanated from all her attitudes. His scream and rage did not make the slightest impression on her. A crack crept down the pane of the nearest window slowly. Slowly.
- Then go to her alone. I will not tire her now. I trust her. Whatever she decided, she had good reasons for it. But of course you think you have to know everything. The universe does not revolve around you! She finished and turned on her heel. Harry watched her walk away briskly, disappear around the corner of the corridor.
- No sense. He sighed and leaned against the windowsill. He looked at the broken glass. Another thing he didn't want to think about.
Why didn't she understand? Ron somehow had no trouble accepting that Harry needed to know how a fish needs water. For Hermione, the professor's well-being was more important! Pff, how could she not understand that ...
He heard footsteps approaching the bend. For a moment he thought it might be Hermione coming back - but no, this time the sound was coming from the opposite direction. Without thinking, he pulled his father's cloak out of his inner robe and threw it over his shoulders. At the last moment, he pulled up his hood when ... Draco Malfoy appeared in the corridor.
~O-O~
He watched the Slytherin slowly walk to the window. Alone - Crabbe and Goyle didn't show up at school this year. He stood by the window, next to the Gryffindor. Harry didn't move, fearing Malfoy might hear his clothes. He was so close ...
What if he want a wand now and cast some silent spell? He made it possible to act with more ... Or quick silencio and some spells that ten trash would remember for long ... Cruciatus, something else ...
Draco rested his hands on the sill and looked out the window. The sun was already leaning over the Forbidden Forest; the shadows lengthening. In the magazine, which he stretched out his hand, in one place failed after a crack in the glass. Harry looked at his face, slightly surprised. His eyes sparkled unnaturally. When he was finished, a tear ran down his cheek. Only one.
Harry backed off and walked away. The channel treaded to get every document on everyone. As if his stride depended on each new vein. Let it not be about what a moment ago. But the thoughts came the same.
In an instant, he lost all spell. It would be ... Pathetic to throw anything at Malfoy. Of course, no one excludes he will throw out something interesting. But now ... When ten rags, trash, rotten adder ... When he just cried ... It couldn't be Draco Malfoy. Just like that. The tears were too human for him.
~O-O~
He hadn't told about Malfoy or Hermione, much less Ron. They were his best friends, of course, but ... But he couldn't imagine him telling them about it. He already had Ron's smirk before his eyes, he already saw his friend making fun of the Slytherin in the corridor ... No. Maybe he wanted to put this slimy bastard down, but he preferred to do it in a duel, in a fight, when both of them had equal chances. He was a Gryffindor, after all!
- And how was McGonagall, after all? Hermione asked, emerging from behind the wall of textbooks. He himself played a game of chess with Ron, losing spectacularly.
- I didn't know the password, so I didn't visit her. He lied smoothly, cursing himself for it. Hermione nodded as if she had expected exactly that and disappeared behind the books again. Harry just sighed. He had gotten over the urge to talk to anyone.
~ O-O ~
At this hour, the library slowly emptied. He walked along the shelves without thinking about anything. He didn't even read the book titles. He enjoyed peace - after all, nobody wanted anything from him, nobody was mad at him and expected nothing. Nobody talked about Voldemort, called him the chosen one, the slayer of evil, the savior of the world ... Only the soft murmur of whispered conversations and the rustle of pages turned over.
- I'm giving the books away, Mrs. Pince. Much too loudly, said Slughorn, revealing himself at the librarian's desk. The said one gave him a glare and reached into a drawer, pulling out a small rectangle of parchment.
- Two items from the Potions section, one from the Forbidden Books section and one more from Herbology. She spoke in an artificially low voice, as if to attract Slughor's attention. Harry almost pricked his ears at the mention of the Forbidden Books section. He picked up a book at random from the shelf and opened it, pretending to be very interested.
- I think there is everything. Slughorn smiled. Harry, meanwhile, pulled out his wand and pointed it towards one table where some second-year Ravenclaw sat. He whispered a spell, hiding his wand between the pages of the book.
"Oh, great, then ..." The librarian was interrupted by a sharp, high-pitched scream. With fire in her eyes, she looked towards its source. One of the Ravenclaw was standing in a chair, the other three quickly followed, squeaking thinly.
- Mouse! Help! Here are mice!
- No noises in the library ! And no mice ! Mrs. Pince almost ran towards the girls, Slughorn with her, clearly hungry for sensation. All eyes were on the terrified schoolgirls now. Someone was laughing out loud. Seven blue mice raged happily under the table.
Harry hurried to the librarian's desk. A book thick as a brick, with a black cover and a title in an alphabet he did not understand, he immediately recognized as the one from the Forbidden Books section. He threw it in his bag, leaving "Swamp Plants Blooming on the Spring Solstice of Leap Years" in its place. Coincidentally, also in a dark frame. He escaped from the library undisturbed by anyone.
Only Arctic ice-blue eyes followed him, unmoving. But he didn't notice it.
~ O-O ~
He flipped through the book once more. The candles were burning in the air above him. He was in the Room of Requirements - that wonderful place where he was not asked and disturbed.
The page was turning when he turned it. The pages of this book were as thin as blotting paper. He was surprised to find Slughorn interested in something like this. The topics of the sections were devoted to legilimency, occlumency, all kinds of witchcraft that work on the mind and subconsciousness. Most - all of them, in fact, we'ren't friendly.
For example, such Vastomente. One word, one wand stroke, and the victim twitched in pain because it felt as if the fire was consuming her body. It just seemed to her. And what's more interesting - after some time, the victim's body blistered and the skin peeled off in patches. Because the mind believed in fire so strongly that it forced the body to defend itself. Fascinating.
And so on in this pattern. Harry was surprised when he looked at his watch. It turned out that he spent three hours reading! Incredible! Didn't even notice it. How did it happen? After all, only a few chapters ...
He smiled to himself. I wonder what Hermione would say to that ... But then he thought, "Hermione certainly wouldn't like the way he got this volume." Is that another thing he won't be able to tell his friends?
He hated lying. But for some time, lies were part of his life.
~ O-O ~
The following days were similar. Lessons, little skirmishes with the Slytherins, meals, and in the evenings he sat absorbing words from his book. It did not mean that it detached him from reality - he registered the most important facts right away. For example, Malfoy. Harry did not like the new look of the Slytherin. He would have swallowed his usual teasing and taunts easily, but he choked on the calmness.
- He has to be planning something. - He dropped one evening in early October.
- Who? Ron was sitting on the couch next to Hermione. Although they had a lot of space, they were sitting together, cuddled up to each other like two doves. Harry tried not to register it. He didn't want to see his friend's fingers playing with a strand of her hair. Not that he was jealous - Hermione was just his friend. But...
Ron and Hermione were the obvious couple. Fortunately, though - for Harry - Ron didn't kiss her in every free moment as he did with Lavender. Virtually nothing in their friendship has changed ... Only sometimes Harry felt strange when he knew that under the table his friend's hand was wandering on his friend's knee. It was like ... Like something wrong. Something dirty.
- Malfoy, of course. She acts like he's not. He turned to the fireplace so as not to look at them. The fire crackled happily.
"Oh, come on, Harry." After all, I've told you so many times, He wouldn't be here if he didn't have a good reason. Hermione yawned, covering her mouth with her hand.
- Last year you didn't want to believe me either. He turned and looked at them. Hermione pulled her knees up to her chin. Ron played with her earring for a change. If he kisses her ear, I'll leave. Harry thought. His face remained unmoved.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment Ron licked her neck, next to the earring flickering in the firelight. She giggled.
Harry closed his eyes. The crack - lightning fast this time - had chewed through the glass in the picture frame above the fireplace. Harry regarded them.
He sat down in the armchair so as not to see his friends.
The things that still happened around him ... Shattered windows, glass splashing into dust. Yesterday, at breakfast, Creevy wanted to take another photo of him, talking about the chosen ones and the slayers. An apple exploded in the fruit basket. It literally exploded, spraying half the table with apple puree. Everyone thought someone just put a firecracker into them. They laughed out loud. Draco Malfoy then looked at their table in disgust. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Just a moment.
More and more, when he was upset, it happened. He didn't think it was healthy. He hid his face in his hands when he heard Ron whisper in Hermione's ear. And she chuckled again.