Rating: probably Pg:13 might get up to an R
Pairing: mmmmm I'll tell you next chapter . . .though I think u will work it out . . .next chapter I prrooooomise
Main characters: Harry P, Draco M
Summary: it's 7th year and two people are in love, but neither know it. They both have one last chance. Will they take it?
Feedback: plz plz plz plz plz plz plz if you read it tell me what you think???? I REALLY need the encouragement =P thanx muchly
Thanks to: Shadowslight, Fanny_chan (arigato. Fanny chan wa totemo kawaii desune. – sorry my romanji is truelly horrendous =P), Kristina, Emma and JadeDragon, who all reviewed my first chapter. Enjoy – I hope J
A/N whoa this was turning into a long-ass chapter so I split it up . .but hey that means u get 2 chapters for the price of one – lucky you J . . .hmmm and there a whoooolllee lot more to go . . hmmm
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~ A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words ~
The noise in the Great Hall was almost deafening, hundreds of students all screaming and yelling, laughing and joking, just making noise, seeking to be heard above the noise that everyone else was making. Smiling with a fond, paternal pride Dumbledore looked out upon the students under his care, some still children but many young adults now, able to lead their own lives and choose their own destinies. Even as they all moved on, as they inevitably would, Dumbledore would still remember them all, and thank the gods each and every day for the part he played in making them the men and women they would become, for being given the incredible chance to witness their growth. Every single day he worried for all of those who were and who had been in his care, feared for their lives, their happiness and their sanity and longed to be able to make a better world for all of them but he realised the limitations of his own power. Dumbledore was not a god, just an old man with many worries and cares but so many joys and so much happiness that those problems were overshadowed and far outweighed.
Dumbledore was worried, this year had been plagued with death and darkness, and the students had all been forced to mature beyond their years and much faster than many could take. They had had very little distraction, very little of anything beyond news of increasing violence and strange deaths and the arduous, never ending schoolwork. The increased defence against the dark arts and potions classes in order to prepare the students for war and try to teach them to defend themselves in some small way, had eliminated the time and valuable resources needed for other, more entertaining but less useful classes. That was what the school board had said, but Dumbledore was concerned that without anything to distract them, anything creative where they could forget about the hard facts of day to day life and focus on the beauty that could be found all around them.
That was why Dumbledore had a plan to bypass the school board and sneak in a little inspiration, something to brighten up a dreary year and give the students the chance to have a little fun. With the help of Miss Alexandra Lorrel, the schools only non-magical teacher and the head of the arts department, everything was set up and ready to go.
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In less than a moment, the whole student population gathered that lunchtime was completely silent, all eyes fixed on the lone figure now standing at the head table in the Great Hall. Dumbledore stood proudly before everyone, his back straight and his arms raised to command the attention of all the students seated below him.
"Good afternoon girls and boys," His voice was strong and calm and, by aid of a little magic, carried to every corner of the hall, "I feel the time is right for a little excitement in all of our lives and so I have decided that we are going to have a little competition . . ." Here Dumbledore paused, a lopsided grin lighting his wrinkled face and a mischievous twinkle appeared in his worn blue eyes, " . . .an art competition." His lips twitched as the crowd erupted into a cacophony of murmurs and whispers, only continuing when silence once more returned. "All entries must be returned a month from now, when the winner will be judged and the prize of 100 house points will be awarded. Every student is eligible to enter and all mediums will be accepted. The only rule is you must paint, sculpt, or draw something that inspires you. . .oh . . and, most importantly, HAVE FUN!" with a grin Dumbledore seated himself and a moment later students from every house were chattering at the top of their voices, so many different conversations but all with a common topic. Unfortunately, Afternoon classes were due to begin only minutes later, so frantic whispers were exhanged all along the many corridors, but the real discussions were sure to start later, when young minds were free from the terror of late Potions assignments, lost Transfiguration books and the all important question which staircase would lead to the History of Magic class *today*?
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That night the three friends sat around the roaring golden fire, all seated in huge squishy armchairs that matched the rest of the cosy common room and the fire itself, bright and warm red and gold everywhere they looked. Harry sat curled in the chair closest to the fire staring dreamily into space while he listened with half an ear to yet another heated discussion between his two best friends.
"Isn't it wonderful, Harry? This competition is a chance for us all to experience something a little different, to extend our academic horizons and broaden our minds. Not to mention, I'm sure participating in this kind of extra-curricular activity would be a plus on any college of job application, don't you think so? As well as the fact that . . . " Hermione continued to rattle on in a wistful, almost blissful voice as Harry tuned her out with little difficulty, instead staring fixedly at the dancing flames, consciously blanking his mind as the thought contained there in began to chase themselves around and around in a ceaseless and dizzying circle.
"pphhhh" Ron cut in with his classic derisive snort, "Don't be a twit Hermione, what ponce would be caught dead entering an art competition? He'd look like a right git wouldn't he, 'Arry? Though we could do with the house points if the Quidditch team don't do so well this year, I really have a bad feelin' 'bout the new captain, he just can't measure up to Wood. . . .now *he* was a captain, wouldn't ya say 'Arry? . . . . . 'Arry?"
When both of their speeches failed to arouse a response from raven-haired boy before the, Ron and Hermione looked at each other in consternation and simultaneously, with an identical note of frustration, yelled . .
"HARRY!?!?!"
With a guilty jump, a pair of wide emerald eyes tore themselves away from the absorbing fire and resignedly focused on Harry's two, by now quite annoyed, friends. "Oh . . um, sorry . . .what did you say?"
Before Ron could start in on some long winded discussion of the highlights of "Quidditch Throughout the Ages", Hermione cut him off with a tender, "are you sure you're alright Harry? You don't seem yourself at all."
Dragging up a confident smile from somewhere, Harry plastered it on his face and replied "I'm fiiiiiiinnnneeee Hermione! Really you do worry too much, now *what* were you saying?" Harry finished with an encouraging smile and genuinely tried to listed to what his friends had to say . . .at least until he could make his escape.
"Well if your sure," Hermione acceded with a small smile and a confused look, "We were talking about how great this competition is going to be . . ."
This time it was Ron who interrupted another long speech "No Hermione - *You* - were talkin' about how great this competition is gonna be, *I* was saying that any git who entered that nancy *art* competition would have to be right poof. And *I* wouldn't enter even if you blindfolded me, tied my hands behind my back and forced me to spend the night in the Forbidden Forrest look for giant spi – anyway I won't be enterin' anything, and I'm sure 'Arry won't either, will you 'Arry?" He turned to the boy with an expectant look, perhaps expecting something a little more definite than what he got.
Shaking himself, Harry gazed at them a little dazedly. "Wh . .oh, um . . offcourse not, why w-would I want to do that?" Harry just managed to save himself with a cocky little grin and continued gamely on, "But I'll tell you what I *do* want to do, and that's go to bed! Gods I'm tired!" he topped it off with a clearly faked yawn but was on his way up the stairs before anyone could protest. As he closed the door to his room, the last thing he heard was the now almost comforting sound of his friends bickering like an old married couple . . .
. . . "You just can't paint, Ron. *You're* afraid that you'll embarrass yourself in front of the Whooooollleee Schoooooolll, heh and you'd probably be right" . . .
. . . "Suuuurreee Hermione, that's it. You've been *just* a little *too* interested in all this girly stuff since that Lockheart git got his claws into you, if you ask me."
. . . "First of all Ron, I *didn't* ask you and second . . . . I *am* a girl . . ."
. . ."Oh . .right . .sorry bout that . . . ."
Sighing, Harry congratulated himself yet again on getting his own room.
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Draco Malfoy perched on the edge of an ancient mahogany armchair, his back stiff as he surreptitiously moved closer to the flaring green fire that gave off so little heat that it was barely worthy of the name. Draco was distracted for some unknown reason, though he kept it well hidden from the two idiots seated before him, which wasn't exactly a . . . difficult task. Crabbe and Goyle were not even discussing something *mildly* interesting . . . something about how many snot flavoured Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured beans you could eat before throwing up . . . . or something like that. Deciding to make the best of what he had, Draco endeavoured to start a *real* conversation.
"Well I once had 35 and . . ."
Draco simply cut Goyle (or was it Crabbe?) off. He couldn't have been about to say anything interesting anyway. "So what do u think about this competition that Dumbledore's started?"
For a long moment both the lackeys stared at each other in bafflement. Then one bravely ventured, "What . .? The . . . *Art* competition?"
When Draco only sighed a long suffering sigh and rolled his eyes heavenward, they took this as a yes and looked at each other, nodding, because they knew what to say now.
"Heh! An *ART* competition???? What pansy would enter one of those? He'd have to be totally barmy!!!" chuckling to themselves moronically they failed to notice Draco's wry smirk, but it did register however when Draco stood suddenly in a display of his trademark fluid grace and started to walk away.
"Wait! . . . Where are you going????"
Draco smirked over one shoulder and didn't even bother to stop. "I need my beauty sleep, you don't think having a face like this is easy, do you?" When the imbeciles failed to grasp the joke and just looked at each other strangely, Draco shook his head and simply said, "Go and annoy some 1st years, I'll see you in the morning." Opening the door to his privet room Draco whispered to himself, "If I'm *un*lucky."
Once again missing the last part, Crabbe and Goyle lumbered off with matching moronic grins. Terrorise little children? They could do that.
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TBC – The decision..
A/N – I'd like to thank my fantastic beta who is trying to fit me in around all the other things she has to do.
A/N2 – I'm on summer holidays right now (yes I'm not crazy, I'm just an Australian =P) so I've got a good 2 moths and a lot of ideas to share with you
A/N3 – I'm only 13 years old . . .J pleeeaassee R/R I nead the encouragement