EEEKK!!!! I've got another reviewer! Woo-hoo!!! That brings the grand total to THREE!!! Thanks goes out to Raven, Lady Foxfire, and Allocin!!! (Hey! I guess that makes you the Bold and the Beautiful…heh heh heh…hrrmmmm) Muchas Gracias!! Don't worry, though. As long as someone is reading it, the story will continue. I wouldn't leave anyone……………………………..hanging :) From what I've seen, it doesn't help any by threatening readers for reviews, 'cause it really doesn't want to make me read that story. So, this'll be a threat-free zone. Sorry for the week lapse--it's Midterm Time! Whoop-de-doo. Well, enough of this shite, on with the story! ~8]

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Disclaimers: See Chapter 5…snicker

Chapter 6: Insomnia

Harry lay awake in his bed within the Gryffindor dormitory for what seemed liked hours. It may very well have been, since he had no indication of time resting atop his nightstand like the Muggles often did. He was aware of only the persistent darkness he opened his eyes to again and again, in his hopes to catch the first glimpse of dawn's sunlight which heralded the new day. Whenever Harry even rested his eyes in his longing of drifting to sleep, muscle spasms would jolt him rudely awake whenever he drew close. He had tossed and turned so many times that he wasn't sure whether or not he had gone to sleep and just not realized it.

When he failed to find comfort in any position he lay in, Harry kicked his tangled sheets off and quietly got out of bed. Sliding his glasses onto his face, he made his way to the Bathrooms by the soft glow that the waxing moon held high above Hogwarts projected through the semi-curtained windows. Harry closed the door tightly before flipping the light switch on. The sight that awaited him in the mirror shocked even himself.

Harry ran a hand slowly over his mottled cheek, hissing in a breath when he prodded too deeply. The bruises tracing his jawbone ran the gamut from a deep red to a yellowish green. He exhaled a heavy sigh, knowing full well that if any of the professors saw them then he'd be made to go to Madame Pomfrey's. Again. That he wasn't about to let happen. He could only hope that at least Hermione had paid enough attention in Transfiguration to remember how to cast a decent Glamoury spell on him to cover the bruises for the time being.

When he had finished examining his face, Harry slowly lifted his nightshirt up. He gasped at the similarly colored contusions which marred his torso, far worse than those on his face. He was thankful that no one would see his chest, for it was obvious that someone had tried their hardest to kick the shit out of him. Covering himself back up with a low sigh, Harry took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes, sore from lack of sleep. He then put his frames back on and simply studied his reflection in the mirror.

For some reason, the longer he stared at it the more unnerved he became. Before the previous morning, Harry wouldn't have given a second thought as to whether or not it was truly his reflection which greeted him in the mirror, and not another, backwards version of himself. Now he couldn't be so sure. What he was certain of, however, was that his lack of sleep was beginning to catch up with him when he swore his reflection blinked when he had not.

Great. Now I'm starting to bloody hallucinate.

He snapped his eyes shut and reopened them just as quickly. Harry gripped the sides of the porcelain sink and leaned in close, tensely searching the green eyes reflecting back at him. Content that their actions mirrored his own, he ran his hand through his hair with a deep sigh, padding quietly back to bed. Harry carefully slid between the sheets, mindful of aggravating his injuries. Once settled, his exhaustion finally came to claim him as he drifted off to sleep.

* * * * * *

The next morning brought nothing but sniggers and glares towards Harry, courtesy of the Slytherins. Hermione had taken care of masking the bruises on his face, but the Slytherins knew what lay beneath it. Eating breakfast was painful enough without having to hear various members of the brood threaten to "snap him like a twig, I will" behind his back. He glared over his shoulder every so often, only to be rudely flipped off in response. Harry shook his head and turned back to his plate of scrambled eggs. Ron and Hermione sat opposite him, pointedly ignoring the bad seeds seated behind Harry.

"Just ignore them, Harry," Ron said as he bit into a biscuit, "they're not worth the effort of even turning your head around." Harry smiled slightly, then shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. Hermione lifted her eyes a bit to glance at the opposing table.

"And I see that Draco has yet to drag his sorry self out of hiding to join the lot of them," she commented. "Good job, Ron," she continued, "I think you've finally gotten rid of that smug little bastard." Ron grinned weakly, clearly not as overjoyed about his actions than he had been the day before.

He glanced at Harry, knowing full well what lay underneath the Glamour. Ron suspected Goyle and his partner had done more damage to Harry than he'd let on about, and for that he'd gladly carry the burden of guilt he let slip onto his shoulders until the pair got their due. As for Malfoy, he was more than a little bit intrigued as to why he hadn't yet made an appearance since yesterday afternoon. Contrary to what Hermione suggested, he knew well enough that the Slytherin was quietly contemplating his revenge in secrecy. Ron was assured of Draco's habits enough to know that what he had done to Malfoy wouldn't go by without repercussions for long. He had the feeling that Harry was only the beginning.

Ron was shaken from his reverie by a question from Hermione. "How about we meet in the Library again after History class?" Ron shrugged his shoulders with a nod. "Sounds good. Besides, I can't pass up the chance to take two naps in a row--" He leaned back quickly, successfully deflecting Hermione's arm jab.

"Ron, I swear--"

"Honestly, Hermione! What have we told you about swearing in public?" Harry snorted at the comment, his mouth full of eggs. Hermione smiled sweetly in response.

"Sod off, Ron."

Harry let loose a laugh and grinned broadly, wincing when he realized what a bad idea that had been. Ron then picked up his books and stood up, leaning over towards Harry in mock secrecy.

"She's a saucy one today, isn't she, mate?"

Harry swallowed his last bit of egg. "You've got that right. She'd better save it for Snape, though. I've heard he likes 'em like that." "You've heard he likes women?" Ron quipped.

Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically, standing up from the table. "One of these days, boys, I'm going to accidentally turn you into ferrets." With that she picked up her books and led the trio's procession out of the Great Hall. Ron and Harry snickered quietly behind her back all the way to Transfiguration.

* * * * * *

It had taken what little energy Harry had in him to stay awake during his classes. While Transfiguration had involved activity to keep his mind alert (namely, transmuting river rocks into snails, for some reason), it had taken repeated pokes from Hermione's quill to stir Harry from the near slumber brought on by the quiet, droning lull that was Professor Flitwick's lecturing voice; it was well known as the best non-muggle sleep aid available amongst the students. Even though his eyes barely opened wider than slits as he transcribed the lecture onto the parchment paper, Harry could still see Hermione passing him worried glances in his periphery.

After their morning classes, the trio quickly downed their lunches so that they could spend a bit more time in the Library, noting as they left the Great Hall that Draco was once again a no-show. Over and over again they searched through the same books and brittle manuscripts they had studied the night before. Finally, Hermione closed her book loudly, a heavy sign escaping from her lips.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but there's just nothing more here on the matter. And what we have found is rather repetitive, to say the least." Harry clapped her shoulder amiably.

"It's alright, Hermione. The best thing for us to do at the moment is just wait and see what happens, I suppose," Harry offered. She shrugged a small smile, then set about returning the books to their rightful places with Ron's help, lest Madame Pince find something to snip at them about.

Harry was somewhat disappointed in the lack of information concerning Dopplegangers, and wondered idly if he could bring it up in class without arousing suspicions. He would only do that, however, after he found out what Malfoy had been up to, as he hadn't yet ruled him out as a possible suspect.

Ron groaned loudly when he realized what class they was next on the schedule. "Potions? But we had that yesterday…." He trailed off, stopping dead in his tracks. "Can you even begin to imagine?" he whispered. Hermione shrugged. "Imagine what?"

Ron turned to face her, his eyes wide with horror. "'Imagine what?' The possibility of two Snapes, that's what. One could suck our soul out while the other prodded us with hot pokers. Or lecture twice as much, they're all the same thing, really."

They all laughed loudly, the sound echoing against the spiral staircase they hurried down in order to reach their next class within the Slytherin Dungeons.

* * * * * *

It was nearing 11 o'clock when Harry had finally finished his Potions assignment for the next day. He laid his quill down and fought to keep his eyes open as he prepared for bed, ruminating on what a relatively good day it had been. Both Snape and the Slytherins had been quietly subdued during class, so much in fact that none of them even bothered to waste any effort with their current favorite activity of glaring at Harry or threatening Ron under their breaths. Neither were sure what had happened to Draco, but they both agreed it had a rather positive effect on the rest of the clan.

Harry said goodnight to his fellow Gryffindors, rubbing at his eyes as he placed his glasses on the nightstand. As always he slid his wand underneath his pillow, a comforting idiosyncrasy he had developed not long after his second year. With that he yawned loudly and slid his eyelids closed. Harry's thoughts drifted far from any notions of dopplegangers and the like, his unconsciousness guiding him safely into slumber.

* * * * * *

It was mere moments before Harry finally fell into a restful sleep. He dreamed vividly of Hogsmeade, of traipsing through its many specialty shops with his friends, the wizarding world's supply of knuts and galleons at their disposal. They had also found the singular Chocolate Frog wrapped with gold foil in their purchases at the sweet shoppe, their prize being sets of tickets to the Quidditch Cup Championships for life…

Anyone who had been on a Hogsmeade excursion could then understand his annoyance upon being woken up abruptly, the lingering flavor of his favorite Bernie Bott Bean dissipating rapidly as he returned to consciousness. Any initial confusion he might normally have experienced in such a situation was halted by the crushing sensation enveloping his chest. Harry blinked his eyes to clear them, though the absence of glasses prevented any actual focusing. Panic set in as he tried to take a deep breath, failing miserable when all he could manage was a small gasp.

He squinted sharply and raised his head up a bit, a dark form vaguely discernible. Then, whatever it was leaned in forward closely, making itself clearly visible in the sliver of moonlight which had draped itself across Harry's torso.

Sitting atop his chest was none other than his doppleganger.

With a cruel, tight-lipped smile its right hand shot out and clapped down hard across Harry's mouth to stifle the scream rising within the frightened boy. Harry began to tremble violently in fear, unable to turn from the unwavering glare of his twin. The Doppleganger's visage quite suddenly soured, scowling quite malevolently as his grip on Harry's mouth tightened agonizingly.

Harry's hands clasped around his tormentor's wrist, attempting to pry the hand away before it actually crushed his jaw. A futile effort, Harry then slapped his palm against the side of his oak nightstand fervently, praying that somebody would be woken up from the sound. He struggled uselessly for some time under his Other before hearing a drowsy voice mumble his name.

"Harry…?"

It was Dean. Upon hearing his voice, the doppleganger whipped its head around, startled. It then turned back to Harry, tight-lipped once more. Harry watched in terror as its left hand rose towards his forehead, index finger extended. Only when it touched lightly upon his scar did Harry understand why it had clampled his mouth so roughly.

His screams would have woken the dead.

Harry's arms shot out to his sides violently, as if he had been electrocuted. His back arched from the bed so sharply that the action nearly threw his twin off, had it not squeezed its knees tightly into Harry's sides seconds before touching him. Harry had experienced few pains as torturous as this one in his short life, but this was by far the longest. Hot tears flooded from his tightly squeezed eyes, enabling him to see the piercing flashes of white light which pulsated across his closed eyelids. He could even feel the reverberations of his muffled, agonizing screams on the unflinching hand held across his mouth.

Harry was aware of only two things at that moment: the electrifying pain which coursed through the whole of his body, threatening to split his very being in two, and the featherlike touch resting upon his forehead which began it all. An idea forced its way through the haze of pain consuming him at the moment, and with all his strength Harry forced his stiff arm to blindly search for the face of his doppleganger. If he could mirror the action of his twin, then just maybe he could inflict some pain of his own.

Harry forced his eyes open to search for the weak point. He saw his blurry hand swipe against the Other's cheek. Stretching his hand up just a bit higher, he came in contact with an eyebrow. When his doppleganger realized what he was trying to do, it shook its head slowly in mock disappointment and simply pushed its finger harder onto Harry's scar.

Harry was vaguely aware of someone screaming his name in a panic just before the added pressure onto his scar became too much for the young boy to bear. A strangled gasp caught in his throat before Harry's eyes rolled backwards, catching a brief image of his grinning twin before slumping back onto the bed and into unconsciousness.

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Mwah-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaa…I've already begun writing the next chapter, which may not be as long, but it'll be up in, like, a day or so, most likely. ~8]