Author's Note: Sorry for the long - yes, I'm ashamed to admit it - loooonnng delay, guys. (please don't hate me.) I have started a motorcycle learning course and it's made my free time shrink drastically now, so I can't spend as much time as I did before on writing.

Thanks for all the great and wonderful reviews! They kept me going.

Chapter 22: Cold Reflections

The rain continued to pour down relentlessly as Harry climbed up the steps to the owlery.

He had came back from the match soaked to his skin. After taking a long, hot shower (which he thought might help clear his head - but didn't); he had dressed again in some drier clothes and joined Hermione and Ron in the Common Room.

The rest of the Quidditch team were already lounging around by the time he got there, and Fred and George were working on a new practical joke as usual. Surprisingly, Oliver was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione had curled herself up in the armchair with a hideously thick book and Ron wanted to play Wizards' Chess.

Finally Harry had excused himself to go to the owlery, after being beaten by his best friend for the third time in a row.

It wasn't the losses that made him leave. He was quite used to his best friend beating him at the game and he didn't mind at all actually.

He left because it had been exhausting trying to pretend to his friends and everyone else that nothing had happened during the practise.

*Where would I even start?* he had thought in despair as he looked at Ron's grinning face across the chess set.

He wanted to be alone and Hedwig seemed like a good excuse.

Finally he reached the top of the staircase and entered the owlery.

It was quieter than usual, most of its residents were fast asleep.

No one was sending messages out in this weather.

The only sound to be heard was of the rain pounding furiously on the rooftops above him.

Harry stepped quietly towards a snowy-white owl and petted her gently.

Hedwig cooed and hooted softly as she opened one large round eye. Once she saw who it was, she closed it again and drifted back to sleep contentedly, burrowing herself deeper into the warm nest in her cosy corner.

Compared to what he felt like now, Hedwig looked peaceful and happy.

*How simple your life is, Hedwig.* Harry sighed enviously, as he rubbed the spot behind her ear soothingly.

+++++++++++++++++

The shower was empty save for him, which was a good thing because Draco Malfoy was not in a pleasant mood.

He looked at himself in the mirror appraisingly.

The steam in the shower room had fogged up the glass but he had rubbed an area clear with his palm; where he could see his reflection clearly.

His long lashes were clumped together, the wetness making them appear darker than usual.

And offsetting against his extremely fair skin, his lips were rosy and flushed with blood.

He had spent too long under the shower just now; with his eyes closed, as if trying to make the last twenty minutes disappear down the drain with searing hot water.

His damp blonde hair was sticking up in all directions after drying it off roughly with his towel. The towel now hangs loosely around his too-slim waist.

He picked up a black comb from the sink and started to pull it slowly and deliberately through his messy hair.

Never once taking his eyes off himself as he went through this all-too- familiar routine of his.

A familiar scowl started to form on his lips.

He was starting to look like himself again.

He put down his comb.

His hair is slicked back neatly once more.

His grey eyes are like steel as he stares into them coldly and unblinkingly in the mirror.

An ugly sneer had fixed itself upon his face.

The transformation was complete.

*Oh, you are /so/ going to pay, Harry Potter . . .*

++++++++++++++++++++

(Monday morning, breakfast in the Great Hall)

"Are you feeling okay, Harry?" Hermione asked with some hesitation, from across the table.

All weekend long, he had been extremely moody around them.

Even a trip down to Hogsmeade on Sunday hadn't lifted his spirits like it normally did.

One moment he would be looking extremely sad and woebegone, and the next he would be like himself again; laughing and joking with them playfully.

And then after some time; for no apparent reason he would fall deadly silent once more and look as though he was about to shed tears at any moment.

Ron and Hermione didn't know what to make of his erratic behaviour.

They were both worried and Ron had wanted to simply confront him about it; but something in his eyes had made Hermione think that doing that, however well-intended it may be; might just send Harry over the edge.

She made up her mind to do some research on Nervous-Breakdowns-Amongst- Young-Famous- Wizards in the library first.

"Harry?" Hermione prodded gently again when he failed to respond and merely continued stirring his spoon listlessly in his bowl of oatmeal.

"Huh?" He finally looked up slowly.

Hermione forced back a sigh.

"Never mind." she said and bit her lip.

"Oh. . . okay." Harry went back to staring dully at his bowl. Moments later he finally gave up and set his spoon down.

Ron shook his head at the sorry sight.

It didn't look as though Harry had slept a wink last night.

And behind the lenses of his spectacles, Ron could clearly see the dark shadows that had formed beneath his bloodshot eyes.

His normally healthy tanned skin was deathly pale this morning as a result of his lack of sleep.

*Lack of everything . . .* Ron thought, as he glanced at his own empty plates littered with crumbs and then at Harry's barely touched ones.

On impulse, he grabbed a piece of toast and buttered it heavily, and then proceeded to add a generous layer of jam over it.

"Here, eat this." Ron ordered, thrusting the bread towards his friend.

Harry looked at his friend, feeling a little taken aback by his unusually firm tone with him.

"Erm, thanks Ron, but I'm done." he shook his head and tried to give him a small smile, and failed.

"But, you hardly *ate* anything!" Ron protested, and thrust the toast into Harry's hand; hoping that might end the argument.

Harry looked at it hesitantly and considered taking a bite while his two friends looked on expectantly.

But that sickening feeling rose up again in his stomach and he finally he dropped it back on his plate.

"I'm not hungry." he said softly and lowered his eyes.

++++++++++++++++

At the other side of the hall, Draco was eating heartily.

He bit into the last piece of his bacon with relish and licked his lips.

"We've got Herbology next, right?" Crabbe asked slowly, his thick eyebrows crinkled together as he tried desperately to remember.

Draco rolled his eyes and held back a sarcastic comment that was on the tip of his tongue.

"Yes, Crabbe." he finally contented himself with saying and instead focused his eyes on Harry's back.

The-Boy-Who-Lived was slumped over in his seat on the bench and didn't seem particularly interested in eating this morning.

"Er, Malfoy?"

"What is it, Goyle? You can't remember our timetable either?" he snorted in disgust.

"Didn't I tell you to tape it on the back of your lunchbox so you would never forget it?" he asked impatiently.

*Really! The standard of conversation at this end of the table seemed to be getting worse every day!* Draco thought to himself in distaste, and wondered what long-term adverse effects this might have on his intellect and wit.

"No. . ." Goyle corrected slowly. "I meant to ask, are you gonna be hanging around with Potter again this week?" he asked.

"What?" Draco spat out in shock.

He turned to Goyle, who immediately regretted those words ever coming out of his mouth.

Fear started to creep into his eyes as Draco glared at him.

*Oh, he must have noticed I was looking at Potter.* Draco realised, and felt a little angry at himself for being so careless and embarrassed for having been caught by Goyle, of all people.

"It's just that you've been spending a lot of time with him these past few weeks. We - erm me and Crabbe hardly get to see you now." he said quickly and hunkered over his plate as he braced himself for the verbal assault that was sure to come flying his way.

Draco could really wound when he wanted to.

But right now, their leader didn't feel like lashing out.

*So. . . I've been missed, have I?* he thought, feeling amused and oddly touched at the same time, as he took in Goyle's nervous posture and Crabbe's fearful look.

"No, Goyle." he paused and casually leaned forward to take a piece of sliced apple from the fruit bowl.

"I don't think I'll be anywhere near that Mudblood lover any more than I can help it." He bit into the slice and savoured the sweet juice that immediately burst through his mouth.

Crabbe and Goyle immediately sat up at this.

"Really?" Goyle asked hopefully.

Draco nodded affirmatively, "Don't worry . . ." he paused, "You'll find that things will get . . . right back to the way they always were. . ." he raised an eyebrow in a distinctly Malfoy-esque fashion.

"Starting from next period." he finished with a sneer.

*I'll give Mr. Potter a lesson he'll /never/ forget. . .* he finished silently in his head, shooting a cold look towards his old adversary again.

Crabbe and Goyle smirked and nodded at each other triumphantly.

It felt good to have Draco back.

Things were getting too dull around here.