Disclaimer:
Same as it was in Chapter one!
A/N And God invented cable modems, and Kelli was joyous. But then Satan countered with a huge storm making Kelli's modem service completely useless for a few days. And Kelli was SORE angry. But because she had such lovely reviews from so many people, she flipped off the devil and went back to work ignoring her depression and the pesky devil..
The Twelve Days Of Christmas By: Gum Acacia
On The Seventh Day Of Christmas, My True Love Gave To Me...
Harry Potter was very busy having a completely bipolar Christmas holiday. One moment he felt the magic of the season coursing through his veins so strongly he thought he would burst into song. And in the next instant he felt like Ebeneezer Scrooge and was tempted on more the one occasion to silence his overly jolly roommate with a heartfelt 'bah humbug!'
He had spent the entire morning once again under the strict supervision of one Seamus Finnigan, Christmas guru extraordinaire. They had played 'Holly' Snap for three hours straight before moving onto Wizard's chess. The figurines had been transfigured into little snowmen and angels 'for that extra little touch' the Irish boy had said.
Seamus had insisted that they go down to the great hall to see what was going on for the day but Harry, in fear of having a nervous breakdown, had opted instead to spend the afternoon by himself in the library. He assured Seamus that he was not trying to hide from the holidays nor from his roommate, but in all reality needed to work on a potions essay that was due the week after vacation ended.
So, he gathered all his school things, reasonably upset that he now actually *had* to work on his potions essay, and made his way up to the library. The hall was relatively empty and Harry made his way to the back of the room where all the large tables and armchairs were located. He claimed a smaller table for his own and spread his things across it in a disorderly fashion that would have driven Hermione crazy.
He placed his quill and ink to his right and his parchment and blot cloth to his left. He opened his book, 'Perplexing Potions' by Malus Absumere, unrolled one of his scrolls...and proceeded to stare blankly at the wall ahead of him.
He let his mind wander to the most ridiculous things, like how many shapes he could find in the wall of bricks that he happened to be facing. And then on to a most important study of the back of his hands, where he found to his surprise, a small scar on one knuckle he had never noticed before.
Indeed, the small tasks that seemed to be filling Harry's time were far too interesting and important for him to put off. So, what happened was that in the space of two hours, Harry hadn't actually managed to lift a quill to his potions essay, but however was now well aquatinted with the very intricate stone pattern on the library floor which he had sketched onto a piece of parchment from memory.
He never understood why, but when he was studying by himself he never could keep his train of thoughts in any productive area. He'd start recalling Quidditch plays from old games he had studied, or that he had forgotten to sign up for the next Hogsmeade weekend, or even that he had forgotten to slip Dobby his annual socks ensuring extra kitchen privileges.
It was possible that there were too many things on his mind for him to clearly focus on anything. He looked at his book again forcing himself to read the first line. He read it again twice before it made any sense to him, and Harry realized that whatever curse placed upon him that made it impossible to concentrate on anything remotely relevant was never going to leave. He gave up; rolling his eyes and letting his mind fall back onto other subjects.
Like his friend Hermione, who at this moment was probably finding the only place in Belarus where you could find a combination apothecary book store that was in no way interesting to anyone other then maybe a Head Girl with an obsession for obscure books and rare magical substances.
And to his Godfather Sirius, whose secret jobs for Dumbledore often left it impossible for the boy to see or even hear from him for months at a time.
One subject he did not want to fall back on however, was Draco Malfoy. But somehow, even when he was focusing on other things, his mind would take a drastic, and frankly unwanted, veto in the other boys' direction. Quidditch brought to mind how Draco was his only real competition anymore. Dobby wasn't safe either, as he once belonged to the other boy. Hogsmeade only brought memories of fighting in the snow, and a bite on his neck that was just beginning to fade.
Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, School, The War, Voldemort, Flying, N.E.W.T.S, The House Cup, Duels, Train Rides, Detentions, The Forbidden Forest, The Shrieking Shack, Neville, Forbidden Curses, Navy Jumpers, Hagrid, Hippogriffs, Silver, Green, The Trophy Room, Icy glares, The Bloody Robe Shop!
Suddenly everyone and everything was leading back to one person. For some unknown reason, this terrified Harry. He should be able to do one thing without having to think about Malfoy of all people! In fact, he was sure that wherever the boy was right now, he wasn't thinking about Harry.
He started to think about what the Slytherin would be thinking of, but he quickly stopped himself. No! He was not going to think about him. But suddenly the past week came flashing back to him. Seven days and his world was in chaos. No, seven years! That's how long it had been he thought.
Seamus had jokingly said that Harry had been too involved in his own world to notice things. Maybe he was right. His first year was all about trying to grasp onto the fact that he was a hero in a world he'd never even been apart of, and then there was the mystery of the stone which he had felt the need to solve without the aid of any adults. And again in his second year he was too involved in his own world to notice anything that wasn't deemed evil. Of course, it was his job to put an end to the chamber of secrets, he was Harry Potter! Who else was qualified? His third year he had tried to be more aware of the other students, he had made every attempt to visit Hogsmeade. But then there was that whole 'Sirius Black is trying to kill you' fiasco. And once again, he became slightly self involved.
"Well, bloody hell, it's not like I ask for all these things to happen!" Harry yelled out loud startling the few people who were in the room. Madam Pince loudly shushed him from across the room, and he sheepishly lowered his head returning to stare at his still blank potion's essay.
Fourth, fifth and sixth year. Evil tournament and devastating murder of fellow student while witnessing Voldemorts' return. The beginning of the order of the Phoenix, the slaughter of hundreds of Wizards at the Ministry and Ginny's kidnapping. And last year, the battle of the dragons, Lupin falsely joining Voldemort and an ignorant Sirius almost killing him, not to mention the defection of half the rumored Dark Wizards in England to Germany where Voldemort's stronghold was rumored to be.
Harry sat back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously twisting his hair around his thumb. He felt reasonably justified in his ignorance of things that seemed to be so apparent to everyone around him. True he had stayed almost every year during the Holidays at school, and while children who had gone home for the holidays were justified in not knowing about the tasks, Harry felt a little sheepish for not knowing about them. But wasn't he always the last to know whatever gossip was currently circulating? Well, unless it had to do with whatever current evil was trying to destroy his world. He never knew who was dating whom, or what drama had recently unfolded between what houses.
He sighed and took off his glasses rubbing at his suddenly sore eyes. But then again, he wasn't the only one involved in this war. He wasn't the only one who had to constantly think of the evil that was just moments away from pouncing on his back. Dumbledore did it every day, and he more then anyone else seemed to be aware of every last thing that was going on inside and out of Hogwarts.
Did he have a hero complex, or something? Harry laughed quietly to himself. 'Of course,' he thought to himself, 'you'd have to think of yourself as great for that.' And what had he ever done that had deserved that title, other then be lucky a few times and not die when an evil curse hit him?
But even that feat belonged to his mother. It had been her spell that had protected Harry. Her potion that she had concocted with the help of her old potions partner, Severus Snape.
Even *he* deserved more credit then Harry really did. He had worked as a double agent for Dumbledore's side more then once, and nearly died giving the potion to Harry's mother that had save his life. He had been the one that nearly died two years ago brining the information to the order that stopped Voldemort from slaughtering thousands of Muggles in what would have appeared to have been a natural gas explosion.
'Snape trusts him,' Harry's treacherous thoughts made another sharp veto, 'and Dumbledore wants too.' Harry blew out the breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. 'Back to him again, great!' But maybe Harry did need to think about 'him'. Maybe he needed to rethink just why Draco Malfoy was his nemesis at Hogwarts.
"He's a total ruddy bastard," he whispered to himself. For seven years he had done everything in his power to make Harry and his friends miserable.
'But he wanted to be your friend,' a familiar voice spoke in Harry's thoughts.
'You mean he wanted to control my friends,' Harry answered back, not entirely sure it was such a good thing to be having a conversation with a voice inside one's head but needing to respond just the same.
'He was only eleven,' the voice said.
'Well, he's not eleven anymore!' Harry thought back. He looked at the people around him trying to see if anyone had used a telethoughts charm on him. The few students there seemed to be busy studying and Harry thought again that maybe he was crazy.
'And neither are you.'
'What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean,' Harry thought feeling suddenly defensive.
'You're old enough to ignore his taunts, and not return them.'
'What am I supposed to do with him then, eh?' Harry unconsciously dug his nails into his pants.
All of a sudden he remembered the Draco he saw only a few days ago, his face full of laughter and not a trace of malice. He'd been laughing with everyone at Morag. He hadn't been pompous or conniving, he'd just been smiling. And then he was covered in snow and Harry almost smiled to himself at the picture. And then he had been straddling Harry's chest, silver eyes full of life and amusement.
Harry felt an amazing panic seize his chest, 'Stop thinking about that! What's the matter with you?'
The perfidious voice was back again, 'What do you know about him?'
'Bastard-Cocky-Greedy-Prejudice-Obnoxious-Mean-Jealous-Assinine- Immature-Cruel-Petty-Overbearing-Conceited-Selfish-Insufferable-Bastard- Spoild-Bastard-Charlatan-BASTARD!' Harry's head hurt and his chest felt constricted, as if he couldn't properly breath anymore.
'Those are opinions, Harry.'
"Well, it's all I know!" Harry shouted again, this time Madam Pince yelled at him to 'Shut up or Get out!'
Soft unwanted whispers, 'What do you want to know?' Harry's blood felt as though it were suddenly boiling. He pulled at his shirt collar feeling as though the room was beginning to close in on him and somehow the loosening of his collar would stop that.
His mind was overwhelming him with unbidden thoughts and images. A sneering face suddenly softened with laughter. A cold hard drawl made light by the soft lips capturing now unspoken words. A hard steal gray stare suddenly warming with some unnamable light.
He forced his mind to go blank not wanting to think anymore, having no intention of answering the voices last question. When all that seemed to remain was a black screen he opened his eyes and slowed his breathing.
'It's holiday stress,' he told himself. That's all it was. His thoughts, his stress, it all boiled down to feeling like the Holidays had suddenly become a chore forced upon him instead of a something to celebrate.
Harry felt as though there was a mutiny going on inside of him. Why was he thinking these things about his enemy? Who, by the way, was not only a total prat who had been a plague upon him and his friends for as long as he could remember, but who was also a boy! He wasn't sure even where his thoughts were going, but they felt like they had to be wrong. He knew certain things well enough to know this was not a preoccupation he wanted to entertain.
"Please," he quietly begged his mind, not wanting to have the things he was thinking in his mind anymore. He felt overwhelmed, like he was drowning in his own thoughts. Clawing at his minds cage he suddenly felt himself in. His chest was feeling strained again and his stomach felt twisted.
He opened his eyes and almost felt as though he was going to pass out with delirium. Draco Malfoy had entered the library, Pansy Parkinson close at his side, and they were making their way over to the tables. Harry had never wanted to disappear more in any moment then he did right now.
He watched as Draco, who was thankfully oblivious to Harry's presence, chose a table that was across the room and diagonal to where Harry sat. He sat with his back to Harry and Pansy sat across from him. They were both talking softly, looking around as though they hoped no one would be listening but suspecting that someone was.
Something inside Harry told him to get the hell out of there right now, not even to bother with all his things but to just run as fast as he could. But his legs weren't cooperating and he remained rooted to his seat, his eyes unwilling to pull themselves away from the other boy.
"I hate him," he barely whispered relieved to feel no contradicting squeeze of his stomach. "I hate him and that's *all* there is to it." There it was, that clench of his stomach that said somewhere inside he knew he was lying.
"I hate him too much. I hate him more then Voldemort, and that's why I can't stop thinking about him," a massive twitch inside his stomach accompanied by that sickening dizzy feeling that had been following him around lately. The room was getting stuffy, he was aware of that now, and his eyes seemed to be blurring.
'Put on your glasses,' he yelled at himself. He calmly placed them back on his face ignoring the shaking in his hands. He'd not had much to eat for either breakfast or lunch, his blood sugar must have be low or something.
He glanced over again staring at Draco as if there were some secret written on him, and if he stared long enough or hard enough it would be revealed to him. And then he would understand, whatever there was *to* understand and then he wouldn't have to think of him so often.
He reddened slightly when he noticed Pansy glance in his direction and frown. He quickly looked down to his still blank parchment and picked up his quill hastily writing out ingredients for the particular potion he was supposed to be writing about.
He felt his pulse quicken and he knew that Draco was looking at him. He ignored the feeling as he struggled to recall whether it was five cups of Dragon bile or six required for the base liquid. He suddenly felt the need to have a lot more written on his paper feeling as though there was some sign of guilt in his blank pages.
His mind ached and his body was literally shaking to look and see what Draco was doing. He hesitated for a second and his subconscious mind took that time to conquer his reticence and force the boy to look up.
Draco Malfoy was staring at him blankly, his body half twisted in the chair and he was sitting in, nodding his head at whatever Pansy seemed to be telling him. Draco's stare seemed to immobilize Harry and he couldn't help but continue to look at the Slytherin.
Thankfully something is his mind was shouting that Draco didn't have any right to be sitting in the library staring at him like that and he should be getting angry and he should tell the other boy to go choke on his broomstick. The voice seemed to be working and Harry felt that delirious feeling leave him to be quickly replaced by the familiar and much preferred anger that he always associated with the blonde haired boy.
Harry felt a scowl creep up on his face and was pleased to see that it was returned by the other boy. Draco stood up and started to make his way over to where Harry sat, he waited for the other boy to draw near trying deepening his scowl as he did so.
Draco sat down opposite Harry; his all too familiar sneer perfectly set in place. He leaned back into the chair and placed his hands behind his head not saying a word as he did so.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry's voice sounded completely bereft of any kindness and he was pleased he had managed to find his voice enough to speak.
Draco said nothing for a moment, the small smirk on his face never wavering for a second. "You were staring at me, Potter. I thought maybe it was you that wanted something."
Harry barked a small laugh, "Nothing you have."
Draco calmly raised one eyebrow leaning forward as he did so placing his hands firmly on the table. "Oh I doubt that very much. You have no idea what I have."
Harry flushed trying with some difficulty to keep his mind focused on being angry with Draco and nothing else. "I'm busy right now, so why don't you go back and annoy someone else."
Draco stood up, smirking as he did so. "Poor little, Potter. Always one step behind aren't you?"
Harry stood up leaning across the table as he did, "And what's that supposed to mean?"
Draco laughed and leaned across the table, his face just inches away from Harry's. "I'm talking about what's right in front of you, Potter."
Harry audibly gulped, his eyes immediately betraying the confusion he suddenly felt, "What?"
Draco leaned forward another inch. "I'm talking about your essay," he whispered softly knocking Harry's parchment to the side. "To bad Granger isn't here, she could finish this for you." Draco seemed to be enjoying Harry's obviously flustered state.
Harry was about to reply when he heard a loud scream from the front of the room. Both he and Draco whirled around in time to see Madam Pince with her mouth hanging open, pointing at what looked like a bright pink cat. It took Harry a moment to realize the very disgruntled cat was none other then Mrs. Norris.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Pansy pocket her wand a small grin on her face. Harry looked back to Draco who was already staring back at the Gryffindor. Harry managed to scowl again not trusting himself to do or say anything else. He was about to turn around when Draco grabbed his wrist.
Harry looked down in shock, registering in the back of his mind that Draco's stomach was a good shade lighter then his hand but even his hand seemed pale compared to Harrys' skin. Harry managed to collect his thoughts enough to retch his arm away from the other boy. "Don't touch me," he whispered in a deadly quiet voice.
Draco looked as though he were about to reply but thought better of it. He just smirked once more at Harry and made his way back over to where Pansy was sitting. Harry was aware that Filch was now in the library screaming his head off about his cat, but his voice seemed to be far away.
His wrist felt as though it were on fire, and his heart was pounding in his chest. That claustrophobic feeling swept over him again and he picked up his things and quickly made his way out of the library aware that Draco's eyes were on him the whole time.
He ran as fast as his young body could take him up to his dorm room, slamming the door shut as he soon as he entered. Thankfully it was empty. Harry dropped his things at the foot of his bed and practically ripped the shirt he was wearing from his body. The smothered feeling lessened somewhat and he lay down on his bed, one hand behind his head the other thrown over his eyes.
He stayed that way for a few minutes and finally lowered his arm. He looked down at his own body watching the lean muscles of his chest slightly flex with each breath. He stared at his stomach unconsciously comparing his own coloring to a certain Slytherin boy.
He snapped out of his thoughts and immediately covered his eyes again. He wished Ron were hear so he could tell him how crazy he was feeling, but then the thought of Ron's reaction quickly made him change his mind. Whatever this insanity was that was beginning to tear him apart, he needed to keep it to himself, wholeheartedly believing no one would even begin to understand.
"Bugger," he whispered still not even sure himself what that insanity was.
A/N Ya, so this was just a bit one-sided but I needed to have Harry alone for awhile so I could get him all riled up for the next chapter hehehe. Seamus' seduction is being put off 'til tomorrow when I think it would better fit the story, so sorry to all you Seamus nutters out there lol! Ridiculous amounts of thank you to all those who have reviewed, I've got over sixty now and that to me is just a bit beyond cool. I'm sorry I've been a bit behind, but I'm doing my best to catch up as quickly as I can. Oh, if only I didn't have to work lol. Crosses fingers in hopes of winning the lottery
A preview for tomorrow - My second favorite day, yippee ky yo ky yay! Dumbledore decides he has to reprimand all the students who have been participating in these naughty tasks...there's a Christmas tree, Seamus seduces, Peeves shows up and Harry finds a whole new level of blushing :o)
A/N And God invented cable modems, and Kelli was joyous. But then Satan countered with a huge storm making Kelli's modem service completely useless for a few days. And Kelli was SORE angry. But because she had such lovely reviews from so many people, she flipped off the devil and went back to work ignoring her depression and the pesky devil..
The Twelve Days Of Christmas By: Gum Acacia
On The Seventh Day Of Christmas, My True Love Gave To Me...
Harry Potter was very busy having a completely bipolar Christmas holiday. One moment he felt the magic of the season coursing through his veins so strongly he thought he would burst into song. And in the next instant he felt like Ebeneezer Scrooge and was tempted on more the one occasion to silence his overly jolly roommate with a heartfelt 'bah humbug!'
He had spent the entire morning once again under the strict supervision of one Seamus Finnigan, Christmas guru extraordinaire. They had played 'Holly' Snap for three hours straight before moving onto Wizard's chess. The figurines had been transfigured into little snowmen and angels 'for that extra little touch' the Irish boy had said.
Seamus had insisted that they go down to the great hall to see what was going on for the day but Harry, in fear of having a nervous breakdown, had opted instead to spend the afternoon by himself in the library. He assured Seamus that he was not trying to hide from the holidays nor from his roommate, but in all reality needed to work on a potions essay that was due the week after vacation ended.
So, he gathered all his school things, reasonably upset that he now actually *had* to work on his potions essay, and made his way up to the library. The hall was relatively empty and Harry made his way to the back of the room where all the large tables and armchairs were located. He claimed a smaller table for his own and spread his things across it in a disorderly fashion that would have driven Hermione crazy.
He placed his quill and ink to his right and his parchment and blot cloth to his left. He opened his book, 'Perplexing Potions' by Malus Absumere, unrolled one of his scrolls...and proceeded to stare blankly at the wall ahead of him.
He let his mind wander to the most ridiculous things, like how many shapes he could find in the wall of bricks that he happened to be facing. And then on to a most important study of the back of his hands, where he found to his surprise, a small scar on one knuckle he had never noticed before.
Indeed, the small tasks that seemed to be filling Harry's time were far too interesting and important for him to put off. So, what happened was that in the space of two hours, Harry hadn't actually managed to lift a quill to his potions essay, but however was now well aquatinted with the very intricate stone pattern on the library floor which he had sketched onto a piece of parchment from memory.
He never understood why, but when he was studying by himself he never could keep his train of thoughts in any productive area. He'd start recalling Quidditch plays from old games he had studied, or that he had forgotten to sign up for the next Hogsmeade weekend, or even that he had forgotten to slip Dobby his annual socks ensuring extra kitchen privileges.
It was possible that there were too many things on his mind for him to clearly focus on anything. He looked at his book again forcing himself to read the first line. He read it again twice before it made any sense to him, and Harry realized that whatever curse placed upon him that made it impossible to concentrate on anything remotely relevant was never going to leave. He gave up; rolling his eyes and letting his mind fall back onto other subjects.
Like his friend Hermione, who at this moment was probably finding the only place in Belarus where you could find a combination apothecary book store that was in no way interesting to anyone other then maybe a Head Girl with an obsession for obscure books and rare magical substances.
And to his Godfather Sirius, whose secret jobs for Dumbledore often left it impossible for the boy to see or even hear from him for months at a time.
One subject he did not want to fall back on however, was Draco Malfoy. But somehow, even when he was focusing on other things, his mind would take a drastic, and frankly unwanted, veto in the other boys' direction. Quidditch brought to mind how Draco was his only real competition anymore. Dobby wasn't safe either, as he once belonged to the other boy. Hogsmeade only brought memories of fighting in the snow, and a bite on his neck that was just beginning to fade.
Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, School, The War, Voldemort, Flying, N.E.W.T.S, The House Cup, Duels, Train Rides, Detentions, The Forbidden Forest, The Shrieking Shack, Neville, Forbidden Curses, Navy Jumpers, Hagrid, Hippogriffs, Silver, Green, The Trophy Room, Icy glares, The Bloody Robe Shop!
Suddenly everyone and everything was leading back to one person. For some unknown reason, this terrified Harry. He should be able to do one thing without having to think about Malfoy of all people! In fact, he was sure that wherever the boy was right now, he wasn't thinking about Harry.
He started to think about what the Slytherin would be thinking of, but he quickly stopped himself. No! He was not going to think about him. But suddenly the past week came flashing back to him. Seven days and his world was in chaos. No, seven years! That's how long it had been he thought.
Seamus had jokingly said that Harry had been too involved in his own world to notice things. Maybe he was right. His first year was all about trying to grasp onto the fact that he was a hero in a world he'd never even been apart of, and then there was the mystery of the stone which he had felt the need to solve without the aid of any adults. And again in his second year he was too involved in his own world to notice anything that wasn't deemed evil. Of course, it was his job to put an end to the chamber of secrets, he was Harry Potter! Who else was qualified? His third year he had tried to be more aware of the other students, he had made every attempt to visit Hogsmeade. But then there was that whole 'Sirius Black is trying to kill you' fiasco. And once again, he became slightly self involved.
"Well, bloody hell, it's not like I ask for all these things to happen!" Harry yelled out loud startling the few people who were in the room. Madam Pince loudly shushed him from across the room, and he sheepishly lowered his head returning to stare at his still blank potion's essay.
Fourth, fifth and sixth year. Evil tournament and devastating murder of fellow student while witnessing Voldemorts' return. The beginning of the order of the Phoenix, the slaughter of hundreds of Wizards at the Ministry and Ginny's kidnapping. And last year, the battle of the dragons, Lupin falsely joining Voldemort and an ignorant Sirius almost killing him, not to mention the defection of half the rumored Dark Wizards in England to Germany where Voldemort's stronghold was rumored to be.
Harry sat back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously twisting his hair around his thumb. He felt reasonably justified in his ignorance of things that seemed to be so apparent to everyone around him. True he had stayed almost every year during the Holidays at school, and while children who had gone home for the holidays were justified in not knowing about the tasks, Harry felt a little sheepish for not knowing about them. But wasn't he always the last to know whatever gossip was currently circulating? Well, unless it had to do with whatever current evil was trying to destroy his world. He never knew who was dating whom, or what drama had recently unfolded between what houses.
He sighed and took off his glasses rubbing at his suddenly sore eyes. But then again, he wasn't the only one involved in this war. He wasn't the only one who had to constantly think of the evil that was just moments away from pouncing on his back. Dumbledore did it every day, and he more then anyone else seemed to be aware of every last thing that was going on inside and out of Hogwarts.
Did he have a hero complex, or something? Harry laughed quietly to himself. 'Of course,' he thought to himself, 'you'd have to think of yourself as great for that.' And what had he ever done that had deserved that title, other then be lucky a few times and not die when an evil curse hit him?
But even that feat belonged to his mother. It had been her spell that had protected Harry. Her potion that she had concocted with the help of her old potions partner, Severus Snape.
Even *he* deserved more credit then Harry really did. He had worked as a double agent for Dumbledore's side more then once, and nearly died giving the potion to Harry's mother that had save his life. He had been the one that nearly died two years ago brining the information to the order that stopped Voldemort from slaughtering thousands of Muggles in what would have appeared to have been a natural gas explosion.
'Snape trusts him,' Harry's treacherous thoughts made another sharp veto, 'and Dumbledore wants too.' Harry blew out the breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. 'Back to him again, great!' But maybe Harry did need to think about 'him'. Maybe he needed to rethink just why Draco Malfoy was his nemesis at Hogwarts.
"He's a total ruddy bastard," he whispered to himself. For seven years he had done everything in his power to make Harry and his friends miserable.
'But he wanted to be your friend,' a familiar voice spoke in Harry's thoughts.
'You mean he wanted to control my friends,' Harry answered back, not entirely sure it was such a good thing to be having a conversation with a voice inside one's head but needing to respond just the same.
'He was only eleven,' the voice said.
'Well, he's not eleven anymore!' Harry thought back. He looked at the people around him trying to see if anyone had used a telethoughts charm on him. The few students there seemed to be busy studying and Harry thought again that maybe he was crazy.
'And neither are you.'
'What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean,' Harry thought feeling suddenly defensive.
'You're old enough to ignore his taunts, and not return them.'
'What am I supposed to do with him then, eh?' Harry unconsciously dug his nails into his pants.
All of a sudden he remembered the Draco he saw only a few days ago, his face full of laughter and not a trace of malice. He'd been laughing with everyone at Morag. He hadn't been pompous or conniving, he'd just been smiling. And then he was covered in snow and Harry almost smiled to himself at the picture. And then he had been straddling Harry's chest, silver eyes full of life and amusement.
Harry felt an amazing panic seize his chest, 'Stop thinking about that! What's the matter with you?'
The perfidious voice was back again, 'What do you know about him?'
'Bastard-Cocky-Greedy-Prejudice-Obnoxious-Mean-Jealous-Assinine- Immature-Cruel-Petty-Overbearing-Conceited-Selfish-Insufferable-Bastard- Spoild-Bastard-Charlatan-BASTARD!' Harry's head hurt and his chest felt constricted, as if he couldn't properly breath anymore.
'Those are opinions, Harry.'
"Well, it's all I know!" Harry shouted again, this time Madam Pince yelled at him to 'Shut up or Get out!'
Soft unwanted whispers, 'What do you want to know?' Harry's blood felt as though it were suddenly boiling. He pulled at his shirt collar feeling as though the room was beginning to close in on him and somehow the loosening of his collar would stop that.
His mind was overwhelming him with unbidden thoughts and images. A sneering face suddenly softened with laughter. A cold hard drawl made light by the soft lips capturing now unspoken words. A hard steal gray stare suddenly warming with some unnamable light.
He forced his mind to go blank not wanting to think anymore, having no intention of answering the voices last question. When all that seemed to remain was a black screen he opened his eyes and slowed his breathing.
'It's holiday stress,' he told himself. That's all it was. His thoughts, his stress, it all boiled down to feeling like the Holidays had suddenly become a chore forced upon him instead of a something to celebrate.
Harry felt as though there was a mutiny going on inside of him. Why was he thinking these things about his enemy? Who, by the way, was not only a total prat who had been a plague upon him and his friends for as long as he could remember, but who was also a boy! He wasn't sure even where his thoughts were going, but they felt like they had to be wrong. He knew certain things well enough to know this was not a preoccupation he wanted to entertain.
"Please," he quietly begged his mind, not wanting to have the things he was thinking in his mind anymore. He felt overwhelmed, like he was drowning in his own thoughts. Clawing at his minds cage he suddenly felt himself in. His chest was feeling strained again and his stomach felt twisted.
He opened his eyes and almost felt as though he was going to pass out with delirium. Draco Malfoy had entered the library, Pansy Parkinson close at his side, and they were making their way over to the tables. Harry had never wanted to disappear more in any moment then he did right now.
He watched as Draco, who was thankfully oblivious to Harry's presence, chose a table that was across the room and diagonal to where Harry sat. He sat with his back to Harry and Pansy sat across from him. They were both talking softly, looking around as though they hoped no one would be listening but suspecting that someone was.
Something inside Harry told him to get the hell out of there right now, not even to bother with all his things but to just run as fast as he could. But his legs weren't cooperating and he remained rooted to his seat, his eyes unwilling to pull themselves away from the other boy.
"I hate him," he barely whispered relieved to feel no contradicting squeeze of his stomach. "I hate him and that's *all* there is to it." There it was, that clench of his stomach that said somewhere inside he knew he was lying.
"I hate him too much. I hate him more then Voldemort, and that's why I can't stop thinking about him," a massive twitch inside his stomach accompanied by that sickening dizzy feeling that had been following him around lately. The room was getting stuffy, he was aware of that now, and his eyes seemed to be blurring.
'Put on your glasses,' he yelled at himself. He calmly placed them back on his face ignoring the shaking in his hands. He'd not had much to eat for either breakfast or lunch, his blood sugar must have be low or something.
He glanced over again staring at Draco as if there were some secret written on him, and if he stared long enough or hard enough it would be revealed to him. And then he would understand, whatever there was *to* understand and then he wouldn't have to think of him so often.
He reddened slightly when he noticed Pansy glance in his direction and frown. He quickly looked down to his still blank parchment and picked up his quill hastily writing out ingredients for the particular potion he was supposed to be writing about.
He felt his pulse quicken and he knew that Draco was looking at him. He ignored the feeling as he struggled to recall whether it was five cups of Dragon bile or six required for the base liquid. He suddenly felt the need to have a lot more written on his paper feeling as though there was some sign of guilt in his blank pages.
His mind ached and his body was literally shaking to look and see what Draco was doing. He hesitated for a second and his subconscious mind took that time to conquer his reticence and force the boy to look up.
Draco Malfoy was staring at him blankly, his body half twisted in the chair and he was sitting in, nodding his head at whatever Pansy seemed to be telling him. Draco's stare seemed to immobilize Harry and he couldn't help but continue to look at the Slytherin.
Thankfully something is his mind was shouting that Draco didn't have any right to be sitting in the library staring at him like that and he should be getting angry and he should tell the other boy to go choke on his broomstick. The voice seemed to be working and Harry felt that delirious feeling leave him to be quickly replaced by the familiar and much preferred anger that he always associated with the blonde haired boy.
Harry felt a scowl creep up on his face and was pleased to see that it was returned by the other boy. Draco stood up and started to make his way over to where Harry sat, he waited for the other boy to draw near trying deepening his scowl as he did so.
Draco sat down opposite Harry; his all too familiar sneer perfectly set in place. He leaned back into the chair and placed his hands behind his head not saying a word as he did so.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry's voice sounded completely bereft of any kindness and he was pleased he had managed to find his voice enough to speak.
Draco said nothing for a moment, the small smirk on his face never wavering for a second. "You were staring at me, Potter. I thought maybe it was you that wanted something."
Harry barked a small laugh, "Nothing you have."
Draco calmly raised one eyebrow leaning forward as he did so placing his hands firmly on the table. "Oh I doubt that very much. You have no idea what I have."
Harry flushed trying with some difficulty to keep his mind focused on being angry with Draco and nothing else. "I'm busy right now, so why don't you go back and annoy someone else."
Draco stood up, smirking as he did so. "Poor little, Potter. Always one step behind aren't you?"
Harry stood up leaning across the table as he did, "And what's that supposed to mean?"
Draco laughed and leaned across the table, his face just inches away from Harry's. "I'm talking about what's right in front of you, Potter."
Harry audibly gulped, his eyes immediately betraying the confusion he suddenly felt, "What?"
Draco leaned forward another inch. "I'm talking about your essay," he whispered softly knocking Harry's parchment to the side. "To bad Granger isn't here, she could finish this for you." Draco seemed to be enjoying Harry's obviously flustered state.
Harry was about to reply when he heard a loud scream from the front of the room. Both he and Draco whirled around in time to see Madam Pince with her mouth hanging open, pointing at what looked like a bright pink cat. It took Harry a moment to realize the very disgruntled cat was none other then Mrs. Norris.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Pansy pocket her wand a small grin on her face. Harry looked back to Draco who was already staring back at the Gryffindor. Harry managed to scowl again not trusting himself to do or say anything else. He was about to turn around when Draco grabbed his wrist.
Harry looked down in shock, registering in the back of his mind that Draco's stomach was a good shade lighter then his hand but even his hand seemed pale compared to Harrys' skin. Harry managed to collect his thoughts enough to retch his arm away from the other boy. "Don't touch me," he whispered in a deadly quiet voice.
Draco looked as though he were about to reply but thought better of it. He just smirked once more at Harry and made his way back over to where Pansy was sitting. Harry was aware that Filch was now in the library screaming his head off about his cat, but his voice seemed to be far away.
His wrist felt as though it were on fire, and his heart was pounding in his chest. That claustrophobic feeling swept over him again and he picked up his things and quickly made his way out of the library aware that Draco's eyes were on him the whole time.
He ran as fast as his young body could take him up to his dorm room, slamming the door shut as he soon as he entered. Thankfully it was empty. Harry dropped his things at the foot of his bed and practically ripped the shirt he was wearing from his body. The smothered feeling lessened somewhat and he lay down on his bed, one hand behind his head the other thrown over his eyes.
He stayed that way for a few minutes and finally lowered his arm. He looked down at his own body watching the lean muscles of his chest slightly flex with each breath. He stared at his stomach unconsciously comparing his own coloring to a certain Slytherin boy.
He snapped out of his thoughts and immediately covered his eyes again. He wished Ron were hear so he could tell him how crazy he was feeling, but then the thought of Ron's reaction quickly made him change his mind. Whatever this insanity was that was beginning to tear him apart, he needed to keep it to himself, wholeheartedly believing no one would even begin to understand.
"Bugger," he whispered still not even sure himself what that insanity was.
A/N Ya, so this was just a bit one-sided but I needed to have Harry alone for awhile so I could get him all riled up for the next chapter hehehe. Seamus' seduction is being put off 'til tomorrow when I think it would better fit the story, so sorry to all you Seamus nutters out there lol! Ridiculous amounts of thank you to all those who have reviewed, I've got over sixty now and that to me is just a bit beyond cool. I'm sorry I've been a bit behind, but I'm doing my best to catch up as quickly as I can. Oh, if only I didn't have to work lol. Crosses fingers in hopes of winning the lottery
A preview for tomorrow - My second favorite day, yippee ky yo ky yay! Dumbledore decides he has to reprimand all the students who have been participating in these naughty tasks...there's a Christmas tree, Seamus seduces, Peeves shows up and Harry finds a whole new level of blushing :o)