Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts, and all other things Harry Potter' do not belong to me. They belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. and Bloomsbury among others. Only the story is mine, and I am making no profit off of it.
WARNING! This is SLASH if you do not like the idea of two men falling in love, and so forth do not read it! Turn on your heels and run away, because, seriously, no-one is forcing you to read it. If you do however have an open mind, go ahead, and enjoy!
All thoughts are in '
Dialogue is in ""
LOVING HATE
CHP 2: MYSTERIOUS CHARACTERS
Harry Potter was your average seventh year Hogwart's student. He wasn't exceptional at any of his classes, hated to get up in the morning, disliked homework, and loved Quidditch. There really wasn't anything special about him at all- unless of course you count the fact that he had beaten the unbeatable on numerous occasions and was viewed by most of the wizarding world as their saviour however, let's just ignore that for a second, because that my friends, was not the point.
The point was that Harry was a normal guy. S, Why, was a normal guy like him receiving letters like this? Harry sighed for the umpteenth time, and looked at the letter in his hand. It was short, and simple.
Harry (it read)
Please meet me on the top floor of the Astronomy Tower at 11:00 PM tonight. Bring a winter cloak.
And that was it. He had no idea who it was from, for it had obviously been written with a Quick Quotes Quill (unlike Rita Skeeter's, it would have written the exact thing the person said), and gave no clues whatsoever to who it had been written by. Harry sighed yet again, he probably shouldn't go then, it could be dangerous, it could be a trap and yet
"Harry! Is that note really so interesting that you have to stare blankly at it for 10 minutes? Or do you not want your bacon."
Harry's eyes snapped up from the letter and met Ron's glare guiltily "Uh yeah, go ahead, you can take it."
Hermione looked up from her book to look at Harry as Ron took the bacon. She looked at Harry petulantly, "What is that note about anyway?" and quietly, "Is it from Snuffles?"
Harry shook his head "No. Here, take a look." He handed it across the table to her. She snatched it, and read it, Ron leaning over her shoulder as she did so. Hermione stared at it for a while just as Harry had (or maybe it was just her book, which was lying beneath it), but Ron looked up and asked, "So, are you going?"
"I'm not sure I mean"
Hermione's head shot up, "He most certainly is not going! This could be a trap! Ron, this note was obviously disguised. You-Know-Who will probably send someone up there with a portkey or something of the sort. Most likely Malfoy, the slimy little git's been practically insufferable for the last little while."
Harry looked at her, she did have a point after all, and he wouldn't put it past Malfoy to plan something like that. The nasty twit had been at his worst for the last two weeks; ever since that potions class
Ron, on the other hand, just rolled his eyes and interrupted Harry's thoughts with "Blimey Mione! Can't you see the obvious? Harry's got a secret admirer! Astronomy Tower, night, disguised writing, what else could it be?"
Hermione just sighed, "Okay, if you are feeling to dense to see what's directly in front of your nose.."
Harry stood up and snatched the note from Hermione. "Look guys, I think I'm going to go— with the invisibility cloak, incase it is some sort of trap," He looked over at Hermione, who was making a point of looking extremely unhappy, and sighed. "Look Herm, I'll be extra careful; I just need to know what this is all about." And why it feels so important that I do go' he added to himself.
Hermione sighed, as she stood up, "Well. I guess so. As long as you're careful," she glared at him. "very careful."
Ron grinned as he got up to join them, "And as long as you tell us all the gory details."
Harry grinned back at them, answering them both with one simple reply, "Don't worry, I will be."
~*~
As the day was coming to an end, Harry found himself flying around the Quidditch Pitch. Practice was long over, but he needed somewhere to be by himself; somewhere where he could think without being bugged by Ron and/or Hermione, no matter how good their intentions were when they started to bug him. Luckily Ron (who was now a chaser on the team), had not finished an important Transfiguration Essay which was due the next day; meaning he had to go inside, leave Harry in peace, and best of all: alone.
Harry slowed down a little, balanced himself carefully on his Firebolt, and flexed his shoulders. Slowly he felt the tension from hours of practice — and worry — leave them as he flexed and stretched them. This was why he loved flying the feeling of satisfaction, of freedom it offered. The fact that even when he stopped flying, or finished a practice, he knew he had done something worth while, something he was good at. Something that for once in his life, was just for him. Even as he sat there, feeling weary to the bone that thought, that wonderful feeling, was part of what let all the tension flow all of his worries seem that much less. This was probably part of the reason he had chosen to do his thinking up here, in the sky. Not only could no one reach him, but he also knew he could think straight, concentrate on what he needed to, and do exactly what was right for him; not for the wizarding world, not for his friends, not even for the Boy Who Lived, but for Harry. And this, to put it as simply as possible, was why he was up there right now; because, for all his certainty that morning about meeting this person (for that was what he had decided to call them), he was feeling a bit nervous. And more than a little scared.
What if Hermione was right? What if this person was a Death Eater, and he was walking straight into their nice little trap? What would he do then. The answer to that was actually fairly simple for Harry: He'd run for his life, tell Dumbledore that there was a Death Eater in the castle, and hopefully save some innocent lives. For that reason, he almost wanted to go and yet, not want to go at all. He was sick of being the Boy Who Lived, the people's saviour, the one that every Death Eater wanted dead. He was sick of it, and he didn't want to face it anymore but that still wasn't the reason he was nervous. The reason he was nervous was the fact that Ron could have been right. Scratch that nervous didn't even half describe the way he felt: He was Terrified.
Secret Admirers were things that giggly Second- or Third- year girls dreamed about; and the fact that this person might be a giggly Second- or Third- year girl wanting a late night snog under the stars with the "Boy Who Lived" just added to the whole mess. AND, if they did end up snogging for that matter, would he really want to give up his first ever kiss to someone he barely knew? Would they be able to tell that he had never kissed anyone before? Harry sighed and forced these thoughts from his head. He would just have to hope that this person (whoever they were), was a mature, hopefully senior student, who just wanted to get to know him better. If they just wanted to snog, well too bad for them, for when he thought about it, he really didn't want to give away his first-ever-kiss to someone he (most likely) hardly even knew in the first place, and that was that!
For some surprising reason Harry wasn't actually all that scared of the possibility that this person could be a boy. Although, in the future when he looked back on it he would find it bizarre, this just didn't bug him. Maybe he just didn't give it much thought, maybe he just figured that it was all a big mess whether it was a boy, girl or porcupine. Maybe it was something else altogether. Whatever the reason was, well, he didn't give a rat's arse anyway.
The sun had completely set now, and the only light came from the slowly appearing moon and stars. Harry sighed, knowing he had to go in now, and landed. Maybe he just shouldn't go; it was causing him too much grief. And yet somehow he knew this wasn't an option. Something inside him told him to go, that this was important. Harry was not someone who ignored his instincts- they were as vital to him as life itself — and right now they were telling him to go, to not ignore this, this thing. Whatever it was.
That was it, he decided, feeling more confident, and determined than he had in a while. He was going to go, and that was that. If it was a Death Eater, or something of that nature he would report it, which was an important thing to do (if not for himself, for his world). If it was a secret admirer, he would take it in stride, and deal with it the best he could. With one final look up at the stars (they were so bright, and seemingly magical that night) Harry wished on a particularly bright one that it all would go well.
~*~
Harry walked up the final steps of the Astronomy Tower, slightly out of breath. He looked at the closed door in front of him: so this was it. The rational part of his mind was now telling him to run, for it was his last chance to d so, but the far larger irrational part knew that he wouldn't, he couldn't.
He removed his invisibility cloak and draped it over his arm, along with his winter cloak. He knew that he would be given away as soon as he opened the door anyway so there was no point in wearing it. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door; read to throw on the cloak and run, at any moment
Harry surveyed the room in front of him, it was almost as beautiful in here as it had been outside, with the stars shining down through the glass ceiling. The telescopes were all carefully stored away, and the full moon illuminated the class with more light than Harry had previously believed possible. Obviously Professor Sinistra hadn't been up there yet to set up for tonight's class that however was no surprise; Sinistra was notoriously late, and because of the Full Moon, the class was to be held at 1:00 AM. After a second that had seemed like an eternity Harry's eyes finally fell on the center of the classroom. It was empty except for a figure dressed in black from head to toe: they had a heavy black cloak on, with the hood pulled up, shrouding their face in black. Harry froze like a deer caught in headlights. It was a Death Eater. He had to run. Now!!!! So why weren't his legs obeying him?
The person must have sensed his discomfort, for they called out after him, just as his legs started to work, "Harry! Don't run!" The voice was obviously disguised; it was male, musical, magical, and beautiful in a way that Harry couldn't describe. Somehow he knew that even if this mystery man's voice hadn't been disguised, he would like it: if not simply for the sole reason that it made him feel completely relaxed in a way that only flying had done before.
The man drew his wand and dropped it in one fluid movement, "I just want to talk, I won't hurt you. I Promise."
~*~
END CHP 2
AN
Ha! I'm done!
Okay, so first of all a great big thanks to everyone who reviewed, or even just took the time to read it in the first place it means more than you can know.
So, yes. Thanks to: Hannah, Val, Diabola, Juniper Winner, and Bridget McKennitt (I love that quote too ^_^).
I know that Don't worry, I will be' is from the CoS movie. I just couldn't think of anything else to say.
Erm, suprisingly there is nothing more I really have to say other than the fact that chp 3 might take a while because of the emotional capacity it will take to write it, and at the moment it is going at a slug's pace. I do however hope to get it up to pace so sorry to those who actually care.
Oh yes, and thanks to my betas: Rory9 and Eternity. You guys are simply loffly.
TTFN