Disclaimer: see chap 1. Oh, and Stabbing Westward wrote all lyrics used here as ~poetry~. They used to rock my world, man.
A/N: Well, I've finally returned to ff.net, after a prolonged absence due to extreme disillusionment with life in general. I just hope I'll be able to return to these fics and return to writing with the right tone and feeling for the characters I feel a little disconnected from now. Please people, R&R, let me know how I'm doing. I could use a little help here. Thank you all for being so patient!
Harry, fork in hand, sat staring at the food in front of him. It looked and smelled delicious and he noticed none of this.
~Everything I touch I break. The more I feel, the more I die. Nothing to give... nothing inside.~
Something poking him... "Hmmm, what?"
Ron paused, studying his friend for a second. "I said, someone obviously didn't get a lot of sleep last night." Harry, only half-listening, replied somewhat vaguely "Oh... yeah, no." Aware of his friend's scrutiny, he shook himself and struggled to form a coherent reply.
*Come on Harry, get it together. Stop dwelling on those damn poems!*
"Uh, yeah, I just couldn't sleep last night." Hermione peered at him over a textbook, and Harry squirmed under her gaze. "Are you sure you're alright Harry? You do look a little peaky this morning."
"I'm fine, really. I just... need a little sleep, I guess." Harry muttered, distracted. He scanned the Slytherins, trying to catch a glimpse of pale blond hair... So, he still hadn't come to breakfast. Harry wasn't sure why he kept looking for the elusive Draco. He felt strange, A little shaky.
~A darkness grows inside me in fading shades of grey, and all the colours of the world are slowly sucked away~
Harry berated himself silently.
*I can't believe I didn't see it before. I always took his taunts and
attitude at face value. It guess it never really occurred to me that there
was an actual person behind the sneer, a REASON.*
And there was the answer to his jitters. He wanted to see if this changed the way he acted towards Malfoy, changed the way he saw him. Or maybe, just maybe, it was so he could run and hide.
*Malfoy was going to kill me!*
On that rather charming note, the object of Harry's inner turmoil sidled into the hall. He looked rather pale, even for Malfoy. Harry froze, unable to look away as quick sliver eyes swept the room, searching... searching... and finally locking on Harry. Malfoy tensed... the remaining colour drained from his face, his jaw slack.
*He knows. He KNOWS I read the book.*
Harry, still frozen in place, watched as Malfoy's eyes widened, narrowed... then he wasn't looking at Harry. In fact, he was looking anywhere BUT Harry. Once he's finished not looking in Harry's direction, he was turning, turning and fleeing the hall.
Draco swore, ducking under the table to scrabble around the floor again. No, the book was definitely gone. That could mean a couple of things.
1. He'd left it somewhere else
2. The room was cursed
3. It had been found and confiscated by Filch. Not the best outcome, but it could be worse, because...
4. Harry could have his book.
Instinctively, Draco felt the latter to be true. Harry had his book. His book. HARRY had his BOOK. A dry sob escaped his throat, and he clamped his hands firmly over his mouth to muffle the choking.
Shaking, shaking, sinking to the floor and
*get a hold of yourself Draco. Come on, pull yourself together man. You're a
Malfoy, not some weak, pathetic mudblood!*
At this point, his inner voice had taken the tone of his father, and Draco wrapped his arms around his head in an attempt to muffle that sound as much as the other.
*Crap...crap.*
He approached the hall slowly, shaking, but in control. A small scoff at that.
*Yeah sure, in control Draco. Keep telling yourself that you might just
believe it.*
He had to stop before the doors, taking a second to pull into himself, settling the mask firmly into place.
*Just breathe...*
Pulling the door open and searching... searching... finding brilliant green eyes locked with his, and Draco is absurdly reminded of the spider.
*Does that make me the fly?*
He can see the knowledge lurking behind the startling emerald gaze...
*He read it. He read it. He read it... no, please no. No!*
Whirling, running...
*No, no, no!*
...oblivious to the footsteps pounding behind his...
A/N: Well, I've finally returned to ff.net, after a prolonged absence due to extreme disillusionment with life in general. I just hope I'll be able to return to these fics and return to writing with the right tone and feeling for the characters I feel a little disconnected from now. Please people, R&R, let me know how I'm doing. I could use a little help here. Thank you all for being so patient!
Harry, fork in hand, sat staring at the food in front of him. It looked and smelled delicious and he noticed none of this.
~Everything I touch I break. The more I feel, the more I die. Nothing to give... nothing inside.~
Something poking him... "Hmmm, what?"
Ron paused, studying his friend for a second. "I said, someone obviously didn't get a lot of sleep last night." Harry, only half-listening, replied somewhat vaguely "Oh... yeah, no." Aware of his friend's scrutiny, he shook himself and struggled to form a coherent reply.
*Come on Harry, get it together. Stop dwelling on those damn poems!*
"Uh, yeah, I just couldn't sleep last night." Hermione peered at him over a textbook, and Harry squirmed under her gaze. "Are you sure you're alright Harry? You do look a little peaky this morning."
"I'm fine, really. I just... need a little sleep, I guess." Harry muttered, distracted. He scanned the Slytherins, trying to catch a glimpse of pale blond hair... So, he still hadn't come to breakfast. Harry wasn't sure why he kept looking for the elusive Draco. He felt strange, A little shaky.
~A darkness grows inside me in fading shades of grey, and all the colours of the world are slowly sucked away~
Harry berated himself silently.
*I can't believe I didn't see it before. I always took his taunts and
attitude at face value. It guess it never really occurred to me that there
was an actual person behind the sneer, a REASON.*
And there was the answer to his jitters. He wanted to see if this changed the way he acted towards Malfoy, changed the way he saw him. Or maybe, just maybe, it was so he could run and hide.
*Malfoy was going to kill me!*
On that rather charming note, the object of Harry's inner turmoil sidled into the hall. He looked rather pale, even for Malfoy. Harry froze, unable to look away as quick sliver eyes swept the room, searching... searching... and finally locking on Harry. Malfoy tensed... the remaining colour drained from his face, his jaw slack.
*He knows. He KNOWS I read the book.*
Harry, still frozen in place, watched as Malfoy's eyes widened, narrowed... then he wasn't looking at Harry. In fact, he was looking anywhere BUT Harry. Once he's finished not looking in Harry's direction, he was turning, turning and fleeing the hall.
Draco swore, ducking under the table to scrabble around the floor again. No, the book was definitely gone. That could mean a couple of things.
1. He'd left it somewhere else
2. The room was cursed
3. It had been found and confiscated by Filch. Not the best outcome, but it could be worse, because...
4. Harry could have his book.
Instinctively, Draco felt the latter to be true. Harry had his book. His book. HARRY had his BOOK. A dry sob escaped his throat, and he clamped his hands firmly over his mouth to muffle the choking.
Shaking, shaking, sinking to the floor and
*get a hold of yourself Draco. Come on, pull yourself together man. You're a
Malfoy, not some weak, pathetic mudblood!*
At this point, his inner voice had taken the tone of his father, and Draco wrapped his arms around his head in an attempt to muffle that sound as much as the other.
*Crap...crap.*
He approached the hall slowly, shaking, but in control. A small scoff at that.
*Yeah sure, in control Draco. Keep telling yourself that you might just
believe it.*
He had to stop before the doors, taking a second to pull into himself, settling the mask firmly into place.
*Just breathe...*
Pulling the door open and searching... searching... finding brilliant green eyes locked with his, and Draco is absurdly reminded of the spider.
*Does that make me the fly?*
He can see the knowledge lurking behind the startling emerald gaze...
*He read it. He read it. He read it... no, please no. No!*
Whirling, running...
*No, no, no!*
...oblivious to the footsteps pounding behind his...