OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

One Tree Hill – 02 – So bright it leaves no shadows

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Only scars carved into stone…

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

            Ginny Weasley found it rather difficult to pay attention to her bubbling potion.  She was staring at the green-inked words on her desk:

            Better question – Who are you?

            She debated whether to answer or not.  She wasn't even sure how to answer.  Who was she?

            She would have felt strange putting her name.  It made her feel vulnerable, for some reason.

            "Miss Weasley," a strained, deep voice standing above her made her jump.  "Do you realize that your potion has already burnt?  That's ten points – now start over, and if you aren't finished when class is dismissed, it'll be another ten.  Get to it!"

            She risked a look up into Professor Snape's piercing black eyes.  He looked tired.  And very frustrated.  Angry.

            With wide eyes, she nodded, carefully covering most of her desk by splaying her arms clumsily across it.  When the Potions Master finally stalked away, she stood with her cauldron and walked to the nearest sink.  She scraped out the disgusting purple contents and rinsed it clean, sighing.  What a better way to end a long day?

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

            Draco Malfoy sneered at the small girl before him.  The indignant look on her face made him even angrier.  She was glaring at him, as if he were wasting her time.  How dare she?

            "Out of my way, Weasley."  He stood his ground, waiting for her to step aside.  Instead, she rolled her eyes, adjusting her hold on her bag.  And when he sneered at her, she shoved past him, mumbling something under her breath.

            He stiffened in anger.  He closed his eyes, trying to collect himself, suppress his fury.  Not now, he told himself.

            He stalked down the hall and down several staircases, landing him outside of the potions classroom.  He straightened his robes, knowing full well that he was late, and he walked in the room, without the slightest bit of guilt or regret.  Severus nodded his head to him and turned back to the class with his cold, exhausted eyes.  Draco hated to admit it, but his professor looked hunted.  And Draco feared, and so must I.

            He sat down carefully, taking his time, making damn well sure that Weasley and Potter were watching his every move.  That's right, just showed up five minutes late, and not a single consequence.  He smirked, when he noticed Weasley crossed his arms and turned bright red.

            Draco pulled parchment and a quill from his book bag, and looked to the board for potions instructions.  As he scribbled down today's lesson, a tedious one that he figured was 2nd year material, his eyes were distracted by a flush of black ink on his desk.

            He almost smiled, running his finger over the small conversation that was so far scratched on his desk in ink.  He looked at the latest addition, in a dull, black ink:

            Wouldn't you like to know?

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

            Ginny laughed aloud when she saw what was written on her desk:

            It is against school policy to be writing on desk, you are, no doubt, aware?

            Using the palm of her hand, she tried rubbing out the first few lines of text.  The "Hi" and "Hello" were already nearly faded, from the past few days of the desk's use, but the newer script seemed to gleam boldly.  She glanced up at the Professor, lecturing at the front of the classroom.  If he should see this, it'd be the end of her!

            Sighing, she traced her dry quill along the letters of the last message, considering what to write back.  She wanted to sound clever, even if she wasn't so witty in her real-life.  It was in circumstances like this one, Ginny figured, that one could be braver than they felt otherwise.  It was nearing the end of class, before she finally took her chance to leave a quick note.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

            Draco rubbed his face, sitting at the Slytherin table for breakfast.  Oh Merlin, it was too bloody early.  He couldn't continue like this much longer.  He awoke every morning with a piercing headache and a tight feeling in his chest.  His muscles were sore, and usually stayed so until about lunchtime.  And his head felt cloudy all the bloody time.

            Same thing, day in and day out.  He looked over at the Gryffindor table, resenting their jokes and laughs and envying their easy friendships.  Merlin, it just wasn't fair anymore.  He was getting sick of this.  Sick of his life.  He wondered every day how much longer this would go on.

            Neglecting his eggs and potatoes, he let his eyes wander the room.  He stared a few, long moments at the Headmaster, who was gaily eating his porridge, talking animatedly to Professor Sprout.  How does that man do it?  He didn't look so calm or content last night.  No, he'd looked old and defeated.  Draco turned his attention to Severus, who sat stiff before his cup of morning tea.  He looked like a tired, aged statue.  Draco was relieved that Severus looked as haunted as he himself felt.

            He turned his eyes to Potter, who was sitting between his group of friends, each with smiling faces, eating happily, their only concerns were the upcoming exam in Defense Against the Dark Arts and managing to get through Potions class without a disaster.

            But Draco saw it.  The fear.  The fatigue.  The pain.  It was carefully veiled, but it was there, nonetheless.  Potter's weak smile, and his poor attempt to eat his breakfast may have been enough to satisfy his friends, but Draco knew better.  He knew what was happening to Potter.  It was happening to him, too.

            Averting his eyes, just as Potter glanced his way, Draco pushed away his plate.  He glanced once more along the Gryffindor table, his eyes settling on the same little girl, with bright red hair, at the end of the table, nursing her steamy porridge.  She looked so tiny and meek sitting at the table.  Draco growled, thinking back, then why was she so alive and…and…infuriating the other day in the hallway?

            He stood, collecting his things, nodding off his friends.  He reminded himself – who cares? – as he stalked off to the Potions classroom.  He was thankful it was empty when he reached it.  He sat back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk.  Draco pulled his hands behind his head, and he tried to let his body relax.

            "Well, Mr. Malfoy, looks like someone's been writing on this desk."

            Draco nearly jumped at the sound of Severus standing right over him.  He dropped his feet to the floor, sitting up straight in his chair, reverting to his gentlemanly upbringing.  He glanced at the desk, half-shrugging, pretending not to care.  His own heart thumped loudly in his chest.  He'd forgotten all about it.  He always forgot that there may be messages for him, until he arrived to class and looked down at the desk.

            "Clean it up.  There's a solvent in that cabinet."  Severus tossed Draco a key.  Draco pretended to sneer at his professor, but he stood and stalked to the cupboard.

            As he scrubbed the desk, he took a quick opportunity to read the latest addition:

            If that's so, then I suppose we must stop writing.  Shame, almost kept me entertained in class.

            He smiled, wanting to laugh.  True.  He finished scrubbing off the desk, glad to have a freshly cleaned desk.  He put away the solvent and tossed the key back to Severus, who simply smiled at him, cryptically.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

.: Disclaimer :.

This story is based on the characters Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, who are both owned by J.K. Rowling (as well as all other HP characters and terminology).  The title, and chapter titles, are/will be borrowed from One Tree Hill, by U2.  Please check out that song!

.: Author's Notes :.

There was little editing going on in this chapter, but please read through it, as it's pretty short.

Until next time –

Eclipsed Planet