A/N: I'm sorry this chaper took me so long, but work and school tend to take away all my free time. I'll be coming out with the next chapter within the next couple days, I think. Thanks to all my reviewers! I love hearing from you! P.S. if you like humor, I've got a new fic out entitled Harry Potter Pairings from A to Z. Read it if you get the chance!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his surrounding characters are owned by

14

Chapter 5: Twelve (cont)

By: Amadeus

Harry didn't sleep the entire night. He was to busy thinking of the horrible things he had just done. Thus when he finally emerged from the fifth year boys dormitory, his eyes were bloodshot underlied by dark circles and drooping eyelids. He waited until he knew everyone would already have headed down to breakfast before leaving himself, knowing he still had a show to put on. Yesterday for the fifth years, last night for all of Gryffindor, and today for the whole school. He dearly hoped Dumbledore would not be at breakfast this morning.

As he entered the Great Hall, his wish was granted. In fact none of the teachers were there. His train of thought was interrupted, however, by the sudden silence of the Great Hall as he entered, followed by quiet murmurs from all the houses. The word had spread. They knew. But they needed to see it for themselves. He would show them.

He held his head high, a sneer plastered on his face as he headed purposefully to the end of the Gryffindor table farthest from the staff table, currently occupied by a single first year, isolated from the rest of her house, who always opted to sit rather close to the teachers (in case Slytherin tried anything devious). Surprisingly, she was oblivious to the entire situation, her head buried in a book. Actually, it was Hogwarts: A History. A brief image of Hermione popped into his head. Not as she was now. But as she had been as a first year, isolated and without friends, her nose always in a book.

The first year Hermione had been frightened so easily, petrified and scared out of her wits (though even then there had been quite a lot of them) by a troll. Harry felt sorry the poor first year sitting alone at the end of table. After all, Hermione had only had to deal with a troll. She would have to deal with the famous Harry Potter, now widely known throughout Hogwarts (or so he was now hearing from the murmurs) as Voldemort's new right hand, and as the next You-Know-Who.

He walked up to her and stood over her, making sure his shadow fell over her book. The Great Hall held there collective breaths. She looked up, still oblivious, but surely having figured that something was wrong, and nearly jumped out of her chair to see a very mean and evil looking Harry Potter (next You-Know-Who) sneering down at her.

Harry bowed down a little, met her scared little eyes, and conjured the most powerful most evil voice he could muster. "Move!" he said. She screamed and ran as fast as her poor little legs could carry her out of the Great Hall. Harry made a huge mental note to find out who she was and profusely apologize to her if ever he got the chance to be himself again. But for now he sat down and began to eat, looking down at his food, feeling the stares of the entire Hall upon him. He summoned a hideous sneer to his face again, looking up and trying to meet each and every fearful pair of eyes in the Hall with hatred. Very few continued to stare. Even the Slytherins backed down in fear.

In the silence that followed as he returned to his breakfast (he had opted for bacon, sausage, and ham, hoping that people would notice his carnivorous diet. A/N: So I'm carrying it a little overboard. What can I say? I love Dark Harry!), he heard two chairs scrape the Great Hall's floor, and footsteps coming toward him. He already knew with out looking whose footsteps they were. Ron and Hermione took the two chairs next to him. Ron looked as though Hermione had only just barely talked him into this. Therefore he would be the easier target. He had always had a bad temper problem, and Harry knew even better than Malfoy how to get to him. Therefore he ignored Hermione and turned to glare at Ron.

"And what the Hell do you think you're doing, Weasley?" Ron got very red before settling down to reply.

"Harry, I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. It wasn't really me. I mean to say..er… it was like there was something else…er…your portion…er…"

"You trying to say something, Weasel?" Harry sneered. " You should leave the talking to the Mudblood. She's much better at it. She's had a lot more practice." Ron lost it. Harry sneered. That wasn't hard. He thought. Calling Hermione a Mudblood had brought a gasp from the entire school, but Ron, who had seemed to be quite taken with Hermione recently, went over the top.

"That's enough Harry! You call her that one more time and I'll…and I'll…" he paused suddenly thinking about what he was saying and who he was saying it to. His temper had lost momentum. Harry gave it another nudge…er…push…er…well, let's just say it would involve a timer and a whole lot of C4 explosives.

"Mudblood."

"That's it!" And Ron, contrary to the screams of a hysteric Hermione, proceeded to punch Harry in the face, or he tried to anyway. But Ron had not counted on Harry's quickness, refined by years of dodging the fists of Uncle Vernon and the frying pans of Aunt Petunia, not to mentioned Dudley and his gang. Harry knew how to defend himself, and even Ron, experienced as he was with six older brothers, was having a difficult time getting a punch in.

By the time McGonall entered the Great Hall and broke up the fight ("Harry Potter, what on earth?") Ron was down on his side in fetal position trying to salvage his body from the seemingly lightening-fast blur that had once been his best friend. No one had come to his aid. They were too shocked, and besides they had expected the taller, more muscular (didn't take much) Ron to clobber the evil tiny scrap who used to be the Boy Who Lived.

McGonagall conjured a stretcher for Ron, who was still on the floor and groaning in pain. Harry began to wonder if he had gone too far, but forced an evil smirk on his face anyway. After all, Ron had started the fight, not him. Ok, so he had provoked the easily angered Ron, but Ron made it too easy. He had almost enjoyed kicking that obnoxious…had he enjoyed it? He shivered. Of course he hadn't enjoyed it. Ron was his friend, well, in Harry's mind Ron was still his friend. But the look Ron gave him clearly displayed Ron's thoughts on the matter.

The look he had given Harry was not one of anger, rage, or hysteria. It was far worse. It was a face of hurt, the face of a person had just had the last of his innocence stripped from him by someone he had cared greatly for. It was the face of someone betrayed by his best friend, and when there eyes met, even Harry couldn't force a scowl onto his face. One of the greatest friendships ever observed by the walls of Hogwarts had come to an end.

A/N: I'll be adding more soon. I'm currently staying at home with a severe cold and what I think is the flu, so I should have plenty of time. I hope you all wish for me to stay sick, as that will mean I have done a good job with the fic thus far. I love evil Harry! (not that he's really evil….yet) Please Review!