There was an icy breeze flowing through the castle as Christmas drew near,
and Harry felt the coldness even beneath his skin. He had not told anyone
about the person he had last seen before he passed out on the train, nor
had he told them of the terrible pains he kept feeling in his scar. But
even though he didn't tell anyone, Ron and Hermione seemed to be skirting
very close around the culprit.
Malfoy. His was the face he last saw before he fainted, he was the one who had made his scar practically explode. Madame Pomfrey said he could have died, had he not been sent to her so quickly. What Harry really couldn't understand was how could Lord Voldemort have been on the train? How could he have got past all the security? Harry tried to put these thoughts to the back of his mind, and concentrated on the conversation he was having at the moment.
"So what do you think, Harry?" Ron asked, anxiously.
"Did you see Malfoy?" Harry looked at both of them; they were both so eager to know, and they were so convinced it was Malfoy.
"I didn't see anyone." He lied.
"I just felt my scar hurting and passed out - that's all." Hermione was frowning as she looked at Harry.
"But Harry," she said, speaking slowly and carefully.
"You know why your scar hurts you don't you? Its when Voldemort - "
"I know, I know." He hissed quickly, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. He hated people knowing about his "abnormality"; his scar and why it hurt him. He knew if people knew that Harry felt Voldemort's emotions through it, they would think him strange, perhaps even dangerous.
"Harry, we heard what Malfoy was saying; there was something really strange happening to him, he was calling your name, and saying weird stuff about you.." Ron was defiant and wanted to find the truth.
"Look, I don't remember anything, OK? Can we just drop it?" Harry was starting to feel rather sick; he didn't want anyone to know, but he knew something had happened between him and Malfoy that day on the train, it was why his scar had hurt him. He didn't need Ron and Hermione going on about it all the time, forcing him to think about it, to relive the terrible pain he had felt. Their silence told Harry they seemed to understand.
Just as they made their way up to the Charms classroom, Harry had that strange feeling that somebody was watching him. He looked over his shoulder and didn't see anyone, he turned back around. Then, in front of him he saw Draco Malfoy. He looked quite peaky; his usually sleek blonde hair was messy and dishevelled, and his eyes had dark lines beneath them. Harry couldn't think of anything to say; not in front of Ron and Hermione in any case. Malfoy, apparently couldn't either. They just stared at each other, not looking away. And for the second time, Harry saw with a surge of horror those slit-like pupils in Malfoy's eyes, but when he blinked they were gone. A prickling had started in Harry's scar, but he didn't say anything.
Ron stepped forward in front of Harry.
"Excuse us, we're late." He pushed past Malfoy, and Malfoy stumbled. Harry took his eyes away from him, and walked past him, up to where Ron was. They walked silently to the Charms classroom; Ron looked silently angry; Hermione kept on shooting nervous glances at Harry; and Harry had never felt more confused.
*
Draco felt like he hadn't slept for years. He ran as fast as he could back to the dormitory, forgetting that he had Transfiguration in less than two minutes; he didn't care, he needed to know. He grabbed a roll of parchment, an ink bottle and his quill. His head was full of questions, and fear, why did he feel so hateful around Potter? He felt as though silent anger rose in him, clutching at him, feeding on him, but then it would vanish, vanish as quickly as it had come. He sat on the floor, and then slid under his bed; he was so skinny it was easy to fit there.
"Lumos!" he whispered hurriedly to his wand. The darkness around him lit up and the beam of light fell upon the parchment. He dipped his quill in the ink with trembling fingers and checked if anyone was coming. He saw and heard nothing. He began to write; write as the weight of what had happened the last few weeks fell upon him..
Dear Father,
What is happening to me? I don't remember anything, I can't sleep, I don't eat, I feel sick all the time. What did he do to me? I'm so scared, I think I attacked Harry Potter on the train to school, but I can't remember. If they find out they'll send me to Azkaban, or something, help me, father, please, I beg you.
Your son,
Draco
He rolled the parchment up before the tears falling from his eyes could blotch it. He would take it to the owlery later. He was so scared, and he couldn't tell anyone, no one at all. Why couldn't he remember? What had Voldemort done to him in that room a few weeks ago?
He got up and started to walk towards the dormitory door, but some kind of invisible force pushed him back onto his bed. He tried to get back up, but he couldn't. As much as he struggled he was stuck on the bed. To his amazement and horror, he felt his wand arm move towards the parchment, he tried to stop it, but it wouldn't. Then, an icy coldness spread over his body.
"Incendio." He heard himself say; but it was not his voice, it was a high, cold voice that he recognised. The piece of parchment in his hand burst into flame and he couldn't move the fingers clasping it. The parchment burnt to ash, and then his fingers let go. Suddenly, a ringing started in his ears and his eyes were blinded; he wanted to yell for help, but he couldn't. Somebody help me! He screamed in his head. Somebody! But no one would help him, he felt the icy coldness creep over him one more time and then he was swamped into darkness.
*
R/R please!! Thanks for everyone's reviews, and please keep reading!!
Malfoy. His was the face he last saw before he fainted, he was the one who had made his scar practically explode. Madame Pomfrey said he could have died, had he not been sent to her so quickly. What Harry really couldn't understand was how could Lord Voldemort have been on the train? How could he have got past all the security? Harry tried to put these thoughts to the back of his mind, and concentrated on the conversation he was having at the moment.
"So what do you think, Harry?" Ron asked, anxiously.
"Did you see Malfoy?" Harry looked at both of them; they were both so eager to know, and they were so convinced it was Malfoy.
"I didn't see anyone." He lied.
"I just felt my scar hurting and passed out - that's all." Hermione was frowning as she looked at Harry.
"But Harry," she said, speaking slowly and carefully.
"You know why your scar hurts you don't you? Its when Voldemort - "
"I know, I know." He hissed quickly, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. He hated people knowing about his "abnormality"; his scar and why it hurt him. He knew if people knew that Harry felt Voldemort's emotions through it, they would think him strange, perhaps even dangerous.
"Harry, we heard what Malfoy was saying; there was something really strange happening to him, he was calling your name, and saying weird stuff about you.." Ron was defiant and wanted to find the truth.
"Look, I don't remember anything, OK? Can we just drop it?" Harry was starting to feel rather sick; he didn't want anyone to know, but he knew something had happened between him and Malfoy that day on the train, it was why his scar had hurt him. He didn't need Ron and Hermione going on about it all the time, forcing him to think about it, to relive the terrible pain he had felt. Their silence told Harry they seemed to understand.
Just as they made their way up to the Charms classroom, Harry had that strange feeling that somebody was watching him. He looked over his shoulder and didn't see anyone, he turned back around. Then, in front of him he saw Draco Malfoy. He looked quite peaky; his usually sleek blonde hair was messy and dishevelled, and his eyes had dark lines beneath them. Harry couldn't think of anything to say; not in front of Ron and Hermione in any case. Malfoy, apparently couldn't either. They just stared at each other, not looking away. And for the second time, Harry saw with a surge of horror those slit-like pupils in Malfoy's eyes, but when he blinked they were gone. A prickling had started in Harry's scar, but he didn't say anything.
Ron stepped forward in front of Harry.
"Excuse us, we're late." He pushed past Malfoy, and Malfoy stumbled. Harry took his eyes away from him, and walked past him, up to where Ron was. They walked silently to the Charms classroom; Ron looked silently angry; Hermione kept on shooting nervous glances at Harry; and Harry had never felt more confused.
*
Draco felt like he hadn't slept for years. He ran as fast as he could back to the dormitory, forgetting that he had Transfiguration in less than two minutes; he didn't care, he needed to know. He grabbed a roll of parchment, an ink bottle and his quill. His head was full of questions, and fear, why did he feel so hateful around Potter? He felt as though silent anger rose in him, clutching at him, feeding on him, but then it would vanish, vanish as quickly as it had come. He sat on the floor, and then slid under his bed; he was so skinny it was easy to fit there.
"Lumos!" he whispered hurriedly to his wand. The darkness around him lit up and the beam of light fell upon the parchment. He dipped his quill in the ink with trembling fingers and checked if anyone was coming. He saw and heard nothing. He began to write; write as the weight of what had happened the last few weeks fell upon him..
Dear Father,
What is happening to me? I don't remember anything, I can't sleep, I don't eat, I feel sick all the time. What did he do to me? I'm so scared, I think I attacked Harry Potter on the train to school, but I can't remember. If they find out they'll send me to Azkaban, or something, help me, father, please, I beg you.
Your son,
Draco
He rolled the parchment up before the tears falling from his eyes could blotch it. He would take it to the owlery later. He was so scared, and he couldn't tell anyone, no one at all. Why couldn't he remember? What had Voldemort done to him in that room a few weeks ago?
He got up and started to walk towards the dormitory door, but some kind of invisible force pushed him back onto his bed. He tried to get back up, but he couldn't. As much as he struggled he was stuck on the bed. To his amazement and horror, he felt his wand arm move towards the parchment, he tried to stop it, but it wouldn't. Then, an icy coldness spread over his body.
"Incendio." He heard himself say; but it was not his voice, it was a high, cold voice that he recognised. The piece of parchment in his hand burst into flame and he couldn't move the fingers clasping it. The parchment burnt to ash, and then his fingers let go. Suddenly, a ringing started in his ears and his eyes were blinded; he wanted to yell for help, but he couldn't. Somebody help me! He screamed in his head. Somebody! But no one would help him, he felt the icy coldness creep over him one more time and then he was swamped into darkness.
*
R/R please!! Thanks for everyone's reviews, and please keep reading!!