Never Too Late
By: Catnip
A/N: Here ya go! Still short, but I hope you enjoy! ^_^x
* * *
Chapter 2: Flames Burn Anew
Summer had passed him quickly, yet the wound still burned freshly anew. It was something he could not take so lightly, something he couldn't forget, as he sat in the drowning silence, watching both of them walk passed him, hand in hand.
It was Seamus and Parvati, enjoying a silent time alone, undisturbed in the quiet tranquility of an afternoon break, amidst the falling flower blossoms of the early autumn. He'd seen them together countless times before, but the impact now was something that he could not ignore. It hurt him, hurt him to see them together, bound by a mutual understanding of both friendship and of something deeper, a deeper state of being together with the one that one loved most.
Harry held his face in his hand, frustrated that he hadn't acted sooner, hadn't realized it sooner. He couldn't blame it on Cho, either. He liked the girl, but only with mere infatuation, nothing more, and lost the one that had meant so much. He had lost the war even before he had begun to fight, lost it before he even knew it was there.
He felt himself slowly drifting to the verge of crying, but he didn't go there. He wouldn't dare. All he wanted was to stay there, sulking on the verdant grass, and wallowing in his pain, regretting what he had not done, unable to allow himself to forget the experience, as he knew that it was meant to teach him a lesson.
The pain was good. It was the single reminder of his failure to comply with his instincts, failure to listen to what his heart had advised. He wanted to let go, to forget it, but… it was the only thing that made him feel alive. As of the moment, had he let go, he would remain nothing more than an empty shell.
The pain was the only thing real, at that moment. And he made sure that he'd never --- ever --- forget.
"Hello there, Harry."
Ron's unmistakable voice cut him out of his desolate reverie. He was thinking nonsense, and he knew it. He didn't know what to think anymore.
Flatly he greeted, "Hello, Ron."
"We were looking for you, you know," Ron told him, flopping down onto the same grass that covered the area. "Where've you been?"
Without thinking, Harry answered, "Nowhere. Here. I don't know."
Ron's brows began to knit. "What's wrong, Harry?" he asked. "Do you sense him? Is Voldemort near? Maybe we should tell Dumbledore…"
Harry managed to smile. "No, Ron," he replied, "I've just been having a bad day, that's all."
"Well, Hermione's blaming it on herself again. She says she hasn't been very polite to you these past few months." Ron shook his head, and looked out into the field. "I don't know what's wrong with that girl," he told him. "I don't understand why she always has to be the cause of these things. She thinks she's so important or something. Why don't you tell her, Harry? That not everything has to revolve around her silliness?"
Harry shook his head, no. "I can't tell her that, Ron," he whispered. "I can't tell her that at all."
"Why not?"
Harry sighed. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
"Then, why'd you say that?" Ron persisted. "Do you like her, Harry? I mean… not like her as a friend, I mean… really like her… Do you, Harry?"
He didn't answer, just looked away.
"I do," Ron whispered.
Harry jerked his head to his friend. He said nothing, just looked at him. Ron didn't look back.
"I've never always liked her, you know. I mean… you'd have to be crazy to do that. She's not a very likable person, at first, but…" His voice trailed off.
Harry listened. "But what?"
"Well…" Ron's face contorted into a visage of thought, looking for some means to continue what he had started. "Now, that I think about it, she's not at all that bad either. She's a fun person, an intelligent witch who knows what she wants in life.
"I was jealous of her, to be honest. I wanted so much to be like her, but then again…" Ron sighed. "I guess, all I actually wanted was to be with her. Do you understand?"
After a brief pause, Ron laughed. "I'm sorry, Harry," he apologized. "You may think I'm crazy talking to you like this, but, honestly… that's how I feel. I know it may sound silly, but…"
Harry shook his head, and gave his friend a tiny pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Ron," he answered. "I understand perfectly."
Ron smiled. "You do?"
Harry nodded. "Go to her. Go to her, before it's too late."
* * *
The only thing that kept him going was the sound of Pansy's heavy footsteps stalking him from behind. Draco knew them all too well that he didn't even need to turn around to confirm his fears.
But he turned.
"For goodness' sake, Parkinson!" Draco exclaimed, whirling about on his heels. "Leave me alone!"
Pansy stopped abruptly in her tracks, her bulldog face contorting into one of misplaced agony and desperation. "But Draco, sweetums," she whined.
Draco rolled his eyes heavenward, and prayed. "It's either you leave me alone, or I'll set Voldemort on you!"
At the mention of that name, Pansy's ugly face became something indescribably horrid, and she burst into a fit of tears and ran away.
Draco thought, What an idiot. He turned around, and his eyes caught site of Hermione walking down the hall, unescorted. His face broke out into a grin. Now, there's one who's even more of a challenge.
He went out of his way, and followed her.
* * *
Harry made his way across the countless hallways of the Hogwarts castle, with a visibly upset Ron stalking not far behind him, harshly muttering something like, "I should never have told him."
"Wait!" he called to Harry, finally catching up with the other boy's furious strides. "Harry! Wait up!"
Ron reached Harry's side, and looked up at his friend's anxious expression directed towards the next hall.
He began to worry. "What's wrong?"
"I saw Hermione," Harry answered.
Ron looked relieved. "Oh!" he sighed, somewhat relieved --- but not quite.
"With Malfoy right behind her."
Ron's ears perked up. He suddenly looked alert. "Then, what are you waiting for, slowpoke!" he interjected. "She might be in trouble!" And he dashed off into a panicked run, with Harry close behind him.
* * *
Strange, Draco thought as he followed her stealthily through the many halls and hallways of the castle. He began to wonder why he had even thought of following her. He shrugged and passed it off for boredom.
As he continued to follow suit, he finally realized where she was headed, and took a different path, creating an opportune shortcut. He met her just outside the Potions classroom, blocking the large metal doors should she be intending to come in, regarding her smugly as she looked up from the floor.
She immediately stopped.
"Good afternoon, Granger," he greeted without the least bit sincerity.
Hermione didn't answer.
"Well, now," he drawled. "What's the problem? Cat got your tongue?"
She answered with an arched eyebrow. "What does it matter to you, Malfoy?" she asked.
Draco feigned ignorance, putting up a theatrical disappointment on his features. "Is it that impossible for me to worry about someone?"
"Cut it out, Malfoy. What do you want?"
"Want? Want what?" He moved forward.
She didn't flinch. "There must be something, or else you wouldn't be here following me, now, would you?"
"Good observation," he pointed out. By now, he was but a few feet in front of her, and still he kept coming, like a predator who had just spotted its prey.
Hermione gulped, and backed away. She did so until, she finally felt the cold stone wall right behind her. Draco couldn't miss the chance, and pinned her against the wall. Why did that always happen to a girl every time a bad guy was involved? It was getting really tiresome.
"Well, well, well," Draco placed in, examining their predicament with a menacing mischief in his eyes. "What a fix you're in, Granger. Aren't you going to scream for your Weasley-boy to come?" He leaned forward until they were but a breath away.
That was when Draco finally noticed a different set of footsteps heading their way. He turned at the last instant.
"She doesn't need to scream, asshole."
And with that, Draco staggered back and fell to the floor as he received a hard blow to the jaw, delivered by none other than… the Weasley-boy.
Draco took hold of his jaw, and tested it, hoping that nothing was broken (secretly wishing he wouldn't get a bruise). His head still reeling from the force of the impact, he got up in a clumsy manner, cussing below his breath.
"What the heck was that for, you snot-sucking git!"
"You don't have the right to ask me anything, you weeny-brained rat!" Weasley interjected. "What did you do to Hermione?"
"Nothing, you nincompoop! Can't a fellow classmate ask how his fellow classmate was?"
"Then, ask your fellow jerk," Potter cut in.
"Well, hello, then, Potter. How are you?"
Harry couldn't miss the sarcasm. "Stay away from her, Malfoy. You don't have anything to do with us. Go to hell."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Been there, done that. Am here, am that." He grinned. "So, you think you're so hot, eh? Saving your girlfriend from the little bastard." He moved forward.
"I'm glad you know that," Ron said.
"Then, watch what this little bastard's going to do." And without, the least warning, he took Hermione by wrist, and kissed her vehemently.
Hermione cringed.
Ron's jaw dropped.
Harry flared.
In a split of a second, Harry had taken the Malfoy brat by his collar and pinned him against the wall. Since Draco was a good three inches shorter, his feet were dangling three inches above the floor.
Their faces were inches apart, both breathing hard, Harry with anger, and Draco with exultation at his opponent's anger.
"Well, what are you waiting for, Potter? An invitation?" Draco provoked. "Go on. Hit me. That wouldn't be such a loss, now, would it?"
"I'm still deciding whether to bite your head off or just bite. But then again, why don't I just do both? It couldn't be enough to harm a snake like you anyway."
Draco grinned. "That's it, Potter. You're learning," he said, finally. "You see? We aren't so different from each other, after all. Why don't you drop the Weasel and join me? And I say drop the rabbit, too."
"Better that than the scum."
Draco glared, and for a long time, they just stayed that way.
Harry wondered why he wasn't doing anything. Just a tiny little punch and it will all be over. It's going to be the hospital wing for this scum for a week. But he just stared into those intense gray eyes, heavy-lashed and knowing, and Harry lost his resolve.
Depthless, they just stared back, hauntingly, with a secret they seemed to hide. Harry couldn't take his eyes off their intense gray and the searing flame that burned within. He knew something was wrong the moment he had picked him up. Draco was lighter than he had thought, and he could feel beneath the other boy's robes that he hadn't any telltale signs of having ever been in the Quidditch fields for practice, not even the tiniest bit of muscles. And those eyes… gray, alluringly beautiful.
Draco noticed the change in Harry's expression, and his grin faded. "Let go of me, Potter," he commanded, his voice holding a hidden authority.
"What are you afraid of, Malfoy?"
Their lips were inches apart.
Draco's grin returned, although this time, more out of fear. "That I'm going to hurt you."
And he did.
In one swift movement, Draco kicked himself of the wall, with his foot, his other foot finding itself planted to Harry's midriff as he delivered a hard and precise blow that sent the Gryffindor boy staggering back.
Unfazed by any of what had happened, still looking as fresh as ever, even as he landed hard on his feet, Draco managed a more threatening grin, and spat. "Coward." And, laughing like a lunatic, he ran away.
Ron and Hermione helped up their fallen friend, and asked if he was all right.
Harry paid them no heed, staring off after Draco with unguarded longing. He shook his head yet again, and thought, What is happening to me?
Behind him, out in the autumn air, green leaves began to fall, unnoticed.
* * *
A/N: Yey! I finished it! Me so happy! People who've just read this, please review! Arigatou gozaimasu! Ja!
By: Catnip
A/N: Here ya go! Still short, but I hope you enjoy! ^_^x
* * *
Chapter 2: Flames Burn Anew
Summer had passed him quickly, yet the wound still burned freshly anew. It was something he could not take so lightly, something he couldn't forget, as he sat in the drowning silence, watching both of them walk passed him, hand in hand.
It was Seamus and Parvati, enjoying a silent time alone, undisturbed in the quiet tranquility of an afternoon break, amidst the falling flower blossoms of the early autumn. He'd seen them together countless times before, but the impact now was something that he could not ignore. It hurt him, hurt him to see them together, bound by a mutual understanding of both friendship and of something deeper, a deeper state of being together with the one that one loved most.
Harry held his face in his hand, frustrated that he hadn't acted sooner, hadn't realized it sooner. He couldn't blame it on Cho, either. He liked the girl, but only with mere infatuation, nothing more, and lost the one that had meant so much. He had lost the war even before he had begun to fight, lost it before he even knew it was there.
He felt himself slowly drifting to the verge of crying, but he didn't go there. He wouldn't dare. All he wanted was to stay there, sulking on the verdant grass, and wallowing in his pain, regretting what he had not done, unable to allow himself to forget the experience, as he knew that it was meant to teach him a lesson.
The pain was good. It was the single reminder of his failure to comply with his instincts, failure to listen to what his heart had advised. He wanted to let go, to forget it, but… it was the only thing that made him feel alive. As of the moment, had he let go, he would remain nothing more than an empty shell.
The pain was the only thing real, at that moment. And he made sure that he'd never --- ever --- forget.
"Hello there, Harry."
Ron's unmistakable voice cut him out of his desolate reverie. He was thinking nonsense, and he knew it. He didn't know what to think anymore.
Flatly he greeted, "Hello, Ron."
"We were looking for you, you know," Ron told him, flopping down onto the same grass that covered the area. "Where've you been?"
Without thinking, Harry answered, "Nowhere. Here. I don't know."
Ron's brows began to knit. "What's wrong, Harry?" he asked. "Do you sense him? Is Voldemort near? Maybe we should tell Dumbledore…"
Harry managed to smile. "No, Ron," he replied, "I've just been having a bad day, that's all."
"Well, Hermione's blaming it on herself again. She says she hasn't been very polite to you these past few months." Ron shook his head, and looked out into the field. "I don't know what's wrong with that girl," he told him. "I don't understand why she always has to be the cause of these things. She thinks she's so important or something. Why don't you tell her, Harry? That not everything has to revolve around her silliness?"
Harry shook his head, no. "I can't tell her that, Ron," he whispered. "I can't tell her that at all."
"Why not?"
Harry sighed. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
"Then, why'd you say that?" Ron persisted. "Do you like her, Harry? I mean… not like her as a friend, I mean… really like her… Do you, Harry?"
He didn't answer, just looked away.
"I do," Ron whispered.
Harry jerked his head to his friend. He said nothing, just looked at him. Ron didn't look back.
"I've never always liked her, you know. I mean… you'd have to be crazy to do that. She's not a very likable person, at first, but…" His voice trailed off.
Harry listened. "But what?"
"Well…" Ron's face contorted into a visage of thought, looking for some means to continue what he had started. "Now, that I think about it, she's not at all that bad either. She's a fun person, an intelligent witch who knows what she wants in life.
"I was jealous of her, to be honest. I wanted so much to be like her, but then again…" Ron sighed. "I guess, all I actually wanted was to be with her. Do you understand?"
After a brief pause, Ron laughed. "I'm sorry, Harry," he apologized. "You may think I'm crazy talking to you like this, but, honestly… that's how I feel. I know it may sound silly, but…"
Harry shook his head, and gave his friend a tiny pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Ron," he answered. "I understand perfectly."
Ron smiled. "You do?"
Harry nodded. "Go to her. Go to her, before it's too late."
* * *
The only thing that kept him going was the sound of Pansy's heavy footsteps stalking him from behind. Draco knew them all too well that he didn't even need to turn around to confirm his fears.
But he turned.
"For goodness' sake, Parkinson!" Draco exclaimed, whirling about on his heels. "Leave me alone!"
Pansy stopped abruptly in her tracks, her bulldog face contorting into one of misplaced agony and desperation. "But Draco, sweetums," she whined.
Draco rolled his eyes heavenward, and prayed. "It's either you leave me alone, or I'll set Voldemort on you!"
At the mention of that name, Pansy's ugly face became something indescribably horrid, and she burst into a fit of tears and ran away.
Draco thought, What an idiot. He turned around, and his eyes caught site of Hermione walking down the hall, unescorted. His face broke out into a grin. Now, there's one who's even more of a challenge.
He went out of his way, and followed her.
* * *
Harry made his way across the countless hallways of the Hogwarts castle, with a visibly upset Ron stalking not far behind him, harshly muttering something like, "I should never have told him."
"Wait!" he called to Harry, finally catching up with the other boy's furious strides. "Harry! Wait up!"
Ron reached Harry's side, and looked up at his friend's anxious expression directed towards the next hall.
He began to worry. "What's wrong?"
"I saw Hermione," Harry answered.
Ron looked relieved. "Oh!" he sighed, somewhat relieved --- but not quite.
"With Malfoy right behind her."
Ron's ears perked up. He suddenly looked alert. "Then, what are you waiting for, slowpoke!" he interjected. "She might be in trouble!" And he dashed off into a panicked run, with Harry close behind him.
* * *
Strange, Draco thought as he followed her stealthily through the many halls and hallways of the castle. He began to wonder why he had even thought of following her. He shrugged and passed it off for boredom.
As he continued to follow suit, he finally realized where she was headed, and took a different path, creating an opportune shortcut. He met her just outside the Potions classroom, blocking the large metal doors should she be intending to come in, regarding her smugly as she looked up from the floor.
She immediately stopped.
"Good afternoon, Granger," he greeted without the least bit sincerity.
Hermione didn't answer.
"Well, now," he drawled. "What's the problem? Cat got your tongue?"
She answered with an arched eyebrow. "What does it matter to you, Malfoy?" she asked.
Draco feigned ignorance, putting up a theatrical disappointment on his features. "Is it that impossible for me to worry about someone?"
"Cut it out, Malfoy. What do you want?"
"Want? Want what?" He moved forward.
She didn't flinch. "There must be something, or else you wouldn't be here following me, now, would you?"
"Good observation," he pointed out. By now, he was but a few feet in front of her, and still he kept coming, like a predator who had just spotted its prey.
Hermione gulped, and backed away. She did so until, she finally felt the cold stone wall right behind her. Draco couldn't miss the chance, and pinned her against the wall. Why did that always happen to a girl every time a bad guy was involved? It was getting really tiresome.
"Well, well, well," Draco placed in, examining their predicament with a menacing mischief in his eyes. "What a fix you're in, Granger. Aren't you going to scream for your Weasley-boy to come?" He leaned forward until they were but a breath away.
That was when Draco finally noticed a different set of footsteps heading their way. He turned at the last instant.
"She doesn't need to scream, asshole."
And with that, Draco staggered back and fell to the floor as he received a hard blow to the jaw, delivered by none other than… the Weasley-boy.
Draco took hold of his jaw, and tested it, hoping that nothing was broken (secretly wishing he wouldn't get a bruise). His head still reeling from the force of the impact, he got up in a clumsy manner, cussing below his breath.
"What the heck was that for, you snot-sucking git!"
"You don't have the right to ask me anything, you weeny-brained rat!" Weasley interjected. "What did you do to Hermione?"
"Nothing, you nincompoop! Can't a fellow classmate ask how his fellow classmate was?"
"Then, ask your fellow jerk," Potter cut in.
"Well, hello, then, Potter. How are you?"
Harry couldn't miss the sarcasm. "Stay away from her, Malfoy. You don't have anything to do with us. Go to hell."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Been there, done that. Am here, am that." He grinned. "So, you think you're so hot, eh? Saving your girlfriend from the little bastard." He moved forward.
"I'm glad you know that," Ron said.
"Then, watch what this little bastard's going to do." And without, the least warning, he took Hermione by wrist, and kissed her vehemently.
Hermione cringed.
Ron's jaw dropped.
Harry flared.
In a split of a second, Harry had taken the Malfoy brat by his collar and pinned him against the wall. Since Draco was a good three inches shorter, his feet were dangling three inches above the floor.
Their faces were inches apart, both breathing hard, Harry with anger, and Draco with exultation at his opponent's anger.
"Well, what are you waiting for, Potter? An invitation?" Draco provoked. "Go on. Hit me. That wouldn't be such a loss, now, would it?"
"I'm still deciding whether to bite your head off or just bite. But then again, why don't I just do both? It couldn't be enough to harm a snake like you anyway."
Draco grinned. "That's it, Potter. You're learning," he said, finally. "You see? We aren't so different from each other, after all. Why don't you drop the Weasel and join me? And I say drop the rabbit, too."
"Better that than the scum."
Draco glared, and for a long time, they just stayed that way.
Harry wondered why he wasn't doing anything. Just a tiny little punch and it will all be over. It's going to be the hospital wing for this scum for a week. But he just stared into those intense gray eyes, heavy-lashed and knowing, and Harry lost his resolve.
Depthless, they just stared back, hauntingly, with a secret they seemed to hide. Harry couldn't take his eyes off their intense gray and the searing flame that burned within. He knew something was wrong the moment he had picked him up. Draco was lighter than he had thought, and he could feel beneath the other boy's robes that he hadn't any telltale signs of having ever been in the Quidditch fields for practice, not even the tiniest bit of muscles. And those eyes… gray, alluringly beautiful.
Draco noticed the change in Harry's expression, and his grin faded. "Let go of me, Potter," he commanded, his voice holding a hidden authority.
"What are you afraid of, Malfoy?"
Their lips were inches apart.
Draco's grin returned, although this time, more out of fear. "That I'm going to hurt you."
And he did.
In one swift movement, Draco kicked himself of the wall, with his foot, his other foot finding itself planted to Harry's midriff as he delivered a hard and precise blow that sent the Gryffindor boy staggering back.
Unfazed by any of what had happened, still looking as fresh as ever, even as he landed hard on his feet, Draco managed a more threatening grin, and spat. "Coward." And, laughing like a lunatic, he ran away.
Ron and Hermione helped up their fallen friend, and asked if he was all right.
Harry paid them no heed, staring off after Draco with unguarded longing. He shook his head yet again, and thought, What is happening to me?
Behind him, out in the autumn air, green leaves began to fall, unnoticed.
* * *
A/N: Yey! I finished it! Me so happy! People who've just read this, please review! Arigatou gozaimasu! Ja!