Harry groaned. He had had to steal money to get to London to catch the
train. He had also had to steal some of his Aunt's makeup, and now felt
completely and utterly STUPID.
Being a guy, he wasn't really used to the mechanics of makeup. Thick wads of orange foundation clung to his papery skin. The sooner he got on the express and did a concealing charm, the better. Thankfully Harry was late and sneaked onto the train on the opposite end to where Ron and Hermione normally were. Just when he was thinking he could make a clean escape to the bathroom and wash that damned makeup off, a voice drawled unmistakably from behind. "The great saviour has returned" Harry was about to turn around when spots started dancing in front of his eyes. *ok, this is not good mate, c'mon, moving now before you share your breakfast - oh wait, you didn't have any - with Draco would be a verrrrrry good idea.* With a groan, he clamped his hand over his mouth and dived for the toilet. Had he looked behind him he would have been astonished. Draco's face was screwed up in curiosity, and as he watched Harry slam the door behind him and retch, he actually looked.worried?
Ten minutes later, Harry emerged from the bathroom looking just like normal. Draco slid silently into the bathroom and inspected the mess. The smell of vomit was as clear as that of blood, and overwhelming pain that made Draco stagger backwards. Discarded tissues with some very weird orange gunk lay in the bin. What a mystery.
Harry meanwhile had reached the carriage where Ron and Hermione were looking anxious. As soon as he entered the carriage Hermione flung herself at him, not noticing his agonised gasp. Harry tried not to yell but it was hard, so hard. He just wanted everything to go away. The witch with the trolley came around later but Harry didn't get anything. Ron looked at him curiously. "Harry.what's up, mate? You normally cram your face!" "Uh.I don't have any money" muttered Harry.then it occurred to him he had no books for this year. Wouldn't Snape just love that. His thoughts were dragged back to the present as Ron glowered at him. "Oh, poor little saviour of the wizarding world! You do'n't have any money? Well guess what, neither do lots of people. Don't go looking all sulky at me just because you've frittered away your dead parents fortune on a load of shit. I would do anything for your fortune!" Harry gaped at Ron, before his friends words sunk in. He stared at Ron for a long minute before drawing his wand. "Felinisitus" he muttered, then stormed out of the carriage. Behind him, Ron hissed and spat, hisfurry black tail twitching. It only took Hermione a few seconds to repair but Ron was livid. And Hermione was furious too. Harry hadn't replied to a single letter that holiday and now he was acting as though nothing was wrong! And cursing a student, on the train.that was just unforgivable.
By the time they reached Hogwarts barely any of the Gryffindors were speaking to Harry. The rumours had spread of their fight and most took Ron's side.
Harry attended the feast but left straight away. Nobody saw him again that night.
Truthfully, he couldn't face the thought of food. He wanted to disappear - he felt like he was too fat to be allowed, he overshadowed everyone. The idea of letting food slide down his throat made him gag. He also couldn't face the Gryffindors that night. They'd ignore him, they hated him, theyd mock him for the angry red marks on his arms which he hadn't concealed because.they reminded him that he was alive, that he was real. And now he had to make some more.
Snape prowled the corridors. He could sense someone's pain.probably some broken hearted member of the bloody Potter Fan Club.speaking of which, where was the insufferable little git? He hadn't seen him at the feast. He heard a dry, cracked sobbing coming from the prefects bathroom and wondered if he should investigate. Then was the sound of retching, and gasping.Snape suddenly had a very bad feeling. He pulled open the door. It was dark. As the lights turned on, he scanned the room, thought he felt something on his cheek.but there was nothing. He looked in the bath and showers, underneath the towels, but there was nothing. Then in the corner, he saw something. An empty box of chocolate frogs, and a small pool of blood. Wrinkling his brow, he stepped back. Who on earth could it be? So many students could perform invisibility charms or had cloaks like James damn Potters.
Harry didn't sleep that night. He looked at himself in the mirror. Dry, cracked lips, greyish skin. His breath smelled like vomit. He quickly cast charms back on his face to hide the bruising, and a mint fresh charm to keep his breath ok. Then, pulling a long sleeved t-shirt on, he went downstairs to face the Gryffindors at breakfast.
Being a guy, he wasn't really used to the mechanics of makeup. Thick wads of orange foundation clung to his papery skin. The sooner he got on the express and did a concealing charm, the better. Thankfully Harry was late and sneaked onto the train on the opposite end to where Ron and Hermione normally were. Just when he was thinking he could make a clean escape to the bathroom and wash that damned makeup off, a voice drawled unmistakably from behind. "The great saviour has returned" Harry was about to turn around when spots started dancing in front of his eyes. *ok, this is not good mate, c'mon, moving now before you share your breakfast - oh wait, you didn't have any - with Draco would be a verrrrrry good idea.* With a groan, he clamped his hand over his mouth and dived for the toilet. Had he looked behind him he would have been astonished. Draco's face was screwed up in curiosity, and as he watched Harry slam the door behind him and retch, he actually looked.worried?
Ten minutes later, Harry emerged from the bathroom looking just like normal. Draco slid silently into the bathroom and inspected the mess. The smell of vomit was as clear as that of blood, and overwhelming pain that made Draco stagger backwards. Discarded tissues with some very weird orange gunk lay in the bin. What a mystery.
Harry meanwhile had reached the carriage where Ron and Hermione were looking anxious. As soon as he entered the carriage Hermione flung herself at him, not noticing his agonised gasp. Harry tried not to yell but it was hard, so hard. He just wanted everything to go away. The witch with the trolley came around later but Harry didn't get anything. Ron looked at him curiously. "Harry.what's up, mate? You normally cram your face!" "Uh.I don't have any money" muttered Harry.then it occurred to him he had no books for this year. Wouldn't Snape just love that. His thoughts were dragged back to the present as Ron glowered at him. "Oh, poor little saviour of the wizarding world! You do'n't have any money? Well guess what, neither do lots of people. Don't go looking all sulky at me just because you've frittered away your dead parents fortune on a load of shit. I would do anything for your fortune!" Harry gaped at Ron, before his friends words sunk in. He stared at Ron for a long minute before drawing his wand. "Felinisitus" he muttered, then stormed out of the carriage. Behind him, Ron hissed and spat, hisfurry black tail twitching. It only took Hermione a few seconds to repair but Ron was livid. And Hermione was furious too. Harry hadn't replied to a single letter that holiday and now he was acting as though nothing was wrong! And cursing a student, on the train.that was just unforgivable.
By the time they reached Hogwarts barely any of the Gryffindors were speaking to Harry. The rumours had spread of their fight and most took Ron's side.
Harry attended the feast but left straight away. Nobody saw him again that night.
Truthfully, he couldn't face the thought of food. He wanted to disappear - he felt like he was too fat to be allowed, he overshadowed everyone. The idea of letting food slide down his throat made him gag. He also couldn't face the Gryffindors that night. They'd ignore him, they hated him, theyd mock him for the angry red marks on his arms which he hadn't concealed because.they reminded him that he was alive, that he was real. And now he had to make some more.
Snape prowled the corridors. He could sense someone's pain.probably some broken hearted member of the bloody Potter Fan Club.speaking of which, where was the insufferable little git? He hadn't seen him at the feast. He heard a dry, cracked sobbing coming from the prefects bathroom and wondered if he should investigate. Then was the sound of retching, and gasping.Snape suddenly had a very bad feeling. He pulled open the door. It was dark. As the lights turned on, he scanned the room, thought he felt something on his cheek.but there was nothing. He looked in the bath and showers, underneath the towels, but there was nothing. Then in the corner, he saw something. An empty box of chocolate frogs, and a small pool of blood. Wrinkling his brow, he stepped back. Who on earth could it be? So many students could perform invisibility charms or had cloaks like James damn Potters.
Harry didn't sleep that night. He looked at himself in the mirror. Dry, cracked lips, greyish skin. His breath smelled like vomit. He quickly cast charms back on his face to hide the bruising, and a mint fresh charm to keep his breath ok. Then, pulling a long sleeved t-shirt on, he went downstairs to face the Gryffindors at breakfast.