The Hogwarts Boy's Guide

Chapter Four: In Which Snape Departs, Draco Accuses Harry Of Stalking Him, And Harry Makes A Considerably Large Discovery (But Not As Significant A One As In The Next Chapter…)

Warnings: Slash, some swearing, sexual situations.

Author's Note: It's a long chapter, just like Eadon requested...:) To respond to a few comments and answer some questions: Thanks for the compliment Lildarlin; and don't be silly, of course I wouldn't stop writing just because my boyfriend doesn't like it. Daft Bugger, the roles are only temporarily switched. I think Harry is generally a nice guy and I wanted to make sure I gave him ample reason to do what he's about to do to Draco (poor Draco...). Aylm, if you mean to ask do I update the older version of this story (Slide) the answer is no. This is the new version, and this is the one I'll be finishing. That same answer goes to GaBrIeLa2. Thanks for the super long review, Calamity, it was very much appreciated. To everyone else, thanks for your encouraging reviews, and the helpful corrections. I'm glad that most of you are enjoying the new version, and I hope you like what's to come. And please keep reviewing and telling me what you think! Don't be shy! Even criticism is appreciated.

And of course, thanks to Lunadeath, who gets a million points because she betaed this is a matter of a few hours!!

Draco was torn. Half of him wanted to have Potter's hide for not only threatening him, but also managing to turn Draco's entire revenge scheme around on him. Well, not exactly. People were still gossiping like mad about Potter's deviant sex life. But they were also gossiping about what had happened in the Great Hall that morning. God, he'd even heard someone say:

"It was so…intense between them. I wonder if Malfoy is the one who wrote that stuff about Harry in that Notebook."

Gods!!! How could anyone think that? That was so completely wrong AND unlikely.

Well, anyway, he preferred not to think of it. Images of he and Potter gallivanting around in dark corridors, sneaking kisses and copping feels from one another were not the type of visions he needed to be dancing about in his head at the moment. He had a massive headache as it was.

But really, hearing that comment had only sunk in Potter's threats deeper. Potter had threatened to ruin Draco's reputation. Draco was beginning to see how startlingly easy that might be, seeing how EAGER people were for gossip. They'd believe anything if given even a smidgen of proof.

That was why Draco was feeling uneasy seated just a few feet in front of Potter in first period Potions. He could hear Potter talking behind him in a hushed voice to the Mudblood. Occasionally he would pick up a snippet of conversation and be tempted to make a snide remark, a cutting comment.

But he kept his mouth shut.

As much as he lamented admitting it, he was just a little afraid of Harry Potter now. He'd royally pissed him off, as Potter had made clear this morning. There was no telling what that queer might do if even slightly provoked.

Harry noticed that Snape's first period Potions class was awfully quiet. For once, everyone was diligently brewing their potions, speaking occasionally in low voices, but more often just silently doing their work. Snape seemed to be enjoying the quiet immensely. He was looking almost pleasant as he sat at his desk grading their last night's homework with a large quill that was dripping red ink.

Another thing Harry noticed was that Malfoy had not said a single word to him since the incident at breakfast. After Harry had gone off on him, Malfoy had returned to his seat and not cast even a single glance in Harry's general direction. He'd arrived to Potions a bit late, looking distracted, and sat once again in front of Harry. But he hadn't been up to his normal tricks. There had been no scathing looks. There had been no comments, no whispered jokes to the other Slytherins. Nothing.

Malfoy was acting as though Harry didn't exist.

"It's great, isn't it," Hermione said quietly, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

"What is?" Harry asked.

"This!" Hermione gestured with her hands, both of which were filled with boiling tubes of sparkling purple liquid. "The peace and quiet. Malfoy hasn't said one single word to you all class period!"

"Mmm, I suppose you're right…" Harry said.

"You must have really gotten through to him this morning. But honestly, the way you were right in his face and practically strangling him…" Hermione poured both vials into the cauldron, after which a minor explosion occurred followed by billowing red smoke, "I don't know. I wouldn't mess with you either, after that."

"Yeah…"

Hermione set down the empty tubes and handed Harry a spoon to stir the potion with.

"Harry," she said, "What's with the sulky attitude. You should be thrilled!"

"Oh, I am," Harry said quickly.

His eye darted forward, and he watched momentarily as his blonde rival sullenly concocted his potion in front of him. Draco's head was bowed in concentration. His hand was on his book, his finger marking his place. He seemed unaware of Harry's existence

"It's just that it seems rather too quiet now. If you know what I mean," Harry finished.

Hermione wrinkled her nose, "Harry are you feeling all right? Don't tell me you actually miss Malfoy badgering you!"

"Of course I don't! I just said it was quiet, was all," Harry snapped.

"Ok," Hermione said airily, "Didn't mean to get on your bad side, Harry."

Harry sighed, "I know. Sorry."

The two were quiet after that. Not even Ron was in a chatty mood. He and Neville were working very hard at figuring out why their potion was producing shinny, black bubbles when everyone else's potions were simmering quietly.

Harry looked at his watch. Class was almost over. He glanced back up at Malfoy for a second before he realized what he was doing. He quickly looked away, but there really was not point. Malfoy hadn't seen him looking. Malfoy wasn't paying Harry any mind.

So. It had worked. He had scared Malfoy away. He probably wouldn't have to worry about him for a long time. Maybe he wouldn't have to worry for the rest of the school year. Then they'd both graduate and probably never see each other ever again.

Harry knew that thought should have given him some satisfaction, but it didn't. Instead he felt empty. He felt…bored.

It was boring without Malfoy to banter with. It was boring without the constant flare-ups that occurred whenever the two boys were within speaking distance of each other. Class just seemed rather dull without Malfoy. Even though he was still there, sitting not two feet in front of Harry, it felt like he was missing.

Harry checked his watch again. Ten minutes until class was over. Hermione announced that their potion was done. She poured a sample into a glass tube and corked it, and brought it up to Snape's desk. When she came back, she pulled out her notes for their next class and began reviewing. Harry began to clean up their things. As he was taking their cauldron up to the front to wash it out, the door to Snape's dungeon flew open and a nervous looking House Elf staggered in.

Snape's head immediately snapped up.

"What can I do for you?" he asked the Elf in a booming voice.

The little House Elf trembled and slunk forward like a dog about to be punished.

"Fifi is sorry to interrupt, Sir," the House Elf whispered, revealing itself to be of the female gender. "Mr. Dumbledore has sent Fifi with an important message for Mr. Snape. Mr. Dumbledore says Fifi must deliver it as soon as possible, even if it means interrupting his class. Fifi is very sorry, Sir. Fifi must heave herself off of a tall cabinet as punishment for being bad, Sir."

"That won't be necessary. Please give me the message," Snape said, drawing himself out of his chair.

"Oh! Sir is kind to Fifi! So kind! Fifi does not deserve such kindness. Fifi must bathe in frigid lake water until she turns blue and -"

"Oh, for goodness sake," Snape groaned, snatching the folded piece of parchment from her tiny hands.

Harry watched as Snape read over the letter. Nothing in his expression revealed what may have been written there, but Harry was betting it was something important. A few of the students were also watching the professor with curiosity.

Snape crumpled the letter up and held out his palm. The note promptly burst into blue flames and was gone.

"Class is dismissed early," he said suddenly.

Everyone gasped in shock.

Snape was already pulling his large, winter cloak around him and gathering his things from off his desk.

"By Monday I want a fifty inch essay from all of you on the importance measurement in brewing potions. Cite all your sources or it's an automatic failure," he said, and with that, he swept towards the door, ushering Fifi along with him, and was gone.

"Woohoo!" was the general consensus.

"Can you believe it?" Ron asked, "What luck! Do you think he'll be absent for DADA too?"

Hermione, Ron and Neville gathered up their things and went out of the room chattering happily about how to spend their extra ten minutes of free time. Harry fell behind, however.

He couldn't help feeling as though something was not quite right about the day. It had certainly started off badly…and he felt it would soon be getting worse…

"Where do you think Snape could have gone?" Draco asked. He was walking down the hall away from the DADA classroom with Goyle later that morning. Crabbe had scrambled off to the little boys room seconds before.

Goyle looked thoughtfully at his chocolate, multi-colored sprinkle cupcake that he'd mysteriously produced from his pockets moments ago. He shoved the entire confection into his mouth.

"Muhbee he's haffin' an affair with Mumblemore," Goyle said with his mouth full.

Draco scowled at him. "You are such a pig. And I don't mean because of how you eat."

"Why do you care?" Goyle said, swallowing his food, "It got us out of DADA with those stupid Gryffindor butt faces. You should be glad."

"Well, I'm not! I'm concerned," Draco said.

"You know what you should be concerned about? Harry Potter. If you keep letting him get close to you like he did this morning you…you could get AIDS," Goyle said with a genuine look of concern.

Draco looked heavenward and shook his head. "Honestly, Goyle, you can't get-" but he stopped himself. It wasn't worth it to try and explain.

"Anyway," Draco continued, "I haven't been letting him get close to me. That filthy faggot keeps assaulting my person. I find it revolting."

"Yeah, well, you should still be careful. I heard of this one guy who…"

Before Goyle could finish his story, Snape appeared in the hallway in front of them. He was moving quickly through the almost deserted hallway. His cloak was still on and was now coated in a light dusting of snowflakes.

"There you are," he said as he approached them. He paused to glower down at Goyle.

"I need to have a private word with Mr. Malfoy," he said.

Goyle took the hint and lumbered off, presumably to find Crabbe so that they could get up to mischief during their free period.

"Follow me," Snape said, and he gestured to the empty classroom.

Once they were in, Snape shut the door and faced Draco. Worry was etched into the creases in his face.

"I have to leave for a while," he said matter-of-factly.

Draco's mouth dropped. "What? Why?"

"It is not a matter I can discuss with you, I'm sorry to say. I'm afraid I'm not to confide in anyone," he said with a sigh. "I wish I could tell you."

Draco felt the hairs on his arms suddenly stand up, and gooseflesh rose up on his skin.

"This has something to do with me," Draco said after a moment of meaningful silence.

Snape didn't respond.

"It does, doesn't it!" Draco demanded, "Is it about my father? Are they…are they going to get him out?"

Snape shook his head, "I'm deeply sorry, Draco. I wish that I could confess my purpose in leaving to you, but as it is, I have been sworn to secrecy by Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore? Then he put you up to this. It's not about my father then," Draco said slowly, watching Snape's face carefully. Snape's eyelid twitched. "Or is it! Dumbledore is not sending you to capture my father, is he? It's nothing like that, is it? Please, Severus. You have to tell me. If not I'm going to worry."

"I cannot-"

"Don't give me that!" Draco exploded, "Over the past two years you and I have become close. I've confided in you time and time again things I would confess to no one else. And you've told me things about yourself that I'm positive you wouldn't tell another soul!"

Draco dropped his voice to a whisper, "I know that you're working for both sides, Sev. Just tell me which side your on at the moment. Please. You owe me this."

Snape's face softened, and for a moment, Draco was sure he was going to tell him. Then he straightened himself up, and a look of purpose came over his face, cooling his expression. He looked away from Draco, suddenly shy of making eye contact. When he spoke, he looked just over Draco's shoulder.

"I will ask you to accept that my silence is necessary. I hope to see you soon," he said.

And then he walked right out of the classroom.

Draco stood for a moment, stunned. Then all his worries and fears came rushing at him. Snape was leaving on a mission for Dumbledore. Was it really possible that it had something to do with his father, Lucius? Would they…could they get him out of prison? Was his father coming home? And if so, would wizards be there waiting for him? What would they do to him?

Of course, it could have had nothing to do with his family. Snape could be going to a top secret teachers convention, for all Draco knew.

But he didn't really believe that. He couldn't.

Somewhere, deep in his heart (for he did have one, contrary to what Potter thought), Draco felt that whatever was going on wasn't good. Draco trusted his intuition, it hardly ever failed him.

For once in his life, Draco sincerely hoped he was wrong.

"Wow! No Snape again! Could we get any luckier?" Ron asked, skipping down the hall like a moron.

"This will give me time to start on my Astronomy project," Hermione said.

"That's not even due until the end of the semester," said Ron with a disgusted look on his face.

"Oh, fine. I guess you don't want to join me in the library to start our research then," Hermione said breezily. She secretly cast Harry a meaningful look.

Ron immediately stopped scowling at her. "Oh, y-you wanted me to go to the library? With you?"

Hermione smiled and nodded.

"Well, er, I suppose an early start couldn't hurt, now that I think about it…" Ron said, falling back and beginning to walk in step with Hermione.

"Harry, would you like to join us as well?" Hermione asked.

But Harry had taken his invisible cue from her, and he politely declined, saying he ought to get some rest before Quidditch practice that night. Hermione smiled at him and turned back to Ron.

"I guess it's just me and you, Ron," she said. Ron flushed with pleasure.

"Oh, what do you know? I think I forgot my text in the DADA room. I better go get it before Filch locks the room up. I'll see you guys at dinner?" Harry said.

"Maybe. I'm not really hungry," Ron said quickly.

"See you later, Harry," Hermione said.

Harry turned around and headed back the way they'd come. When he was far enough away, he peeked back at Hermione and Ron. They were both walking close to each other, talking animatedly. Harry watched as Ron casually draped one arm over Hermione shoulder and slipped her books under the other. The turned the corner and their voices faded away down the hall.

Harry smiled in a bittersweet sort of way. It was obvious to him what was happening between Ron and Hermione. They had started to spend a lot of time alone, studying or just hanging out. And he often caught one staring at the other during classes. He was thrilled about it, of course. He'd always thought they would make a good couple, and he was glad that they were starting to realize it as well.

But, well…it made him feel a bit left out. Not just because they'd started to hang out with out him, but because he feared that they had something that he would never have. He couldn't help but notice how well they complimented each other. They understood each other's jokes perfectly, and they laughed with each other in a way that made it seem as though they were sharing a secret joke that was only between them. They both seemed to glow when the other was around. They basked in the others company. They seemed almost radiant with what was growing between them. What they had was so pure and perfect; Harry couldn't help but be jealous.

When would it be his turn to find something like that?

Harry was roused from his musing by the sound of a door slamming shut. He looked up to see Snape exiting the DADA classroom. He seemed in a hurry, and for once he paid absolutely no mind to Harry. He simply whisked past him with a distant look on his face.

Hmm, what was that all about? And why wasn't Snape teaching his class when he was obviously still around?

Unless he wasn't going to be around for much longer. Judging from his heavy cloak and the speed of his movement, it was quite possible that he was leaving. But to where? And to do what?

Harry was still standing in the hall when the door opened again. This time he was shocked to see Malfoy slinking out of the door, looking equally as pensive as Snape. In fact, he began walking and, seeming not to see him, bumped right into Harry.

His cold, gray eyes snapped up.

"Watch where you're going, Potter," he snapped.

"You walked into me!" Harry exclaimed.

"Well, I wouldn't have if you hadn't been stalking me. Go away, Potter, I've seen about enough of you today."

"I'm not stalking you."

"Really? Then what are you doing here? Class is over, or weren't you informed?"

"Get off it, Malfoy. Why on earth would I be stalking you?" Harry asked, feeling embarrassed by the accusation.

Malfoy cocked his head to the side and said, "I don't know, Potter. You have been seeming rather interested lately."

Harry was shocked. He barley managed to stammer, "W-what?" before Malfoy had adopted his usual arrogant smile. Malfoy took a step towards Harry, closing the distance between them.

"You really can't blame me for thinking it, can you? I mean, we all know about you. We all know what you are," Malfoy spat.

Harry couldn't speak. He was too angry. Too afraid. No one had ever confronted him about his sexuality before. Not face to face like this. He'd never had to defend himself in that way before.

"I wonder," Malfoy continued, "What your parents would think. What would Lily and James Potter say if they knew their little boy was a fag?"

That did it. Malfoy had voiced Harry's biggest fear out loud. He felt like Malfoy could see right through him, to the most painful things he harbored inside him.

Reacting blindly, he reached out and took hold of Malfoy's shoulders. Malfoy was taller than Harry, but Harry had more bulk. He was easily twice as strong as Malfoy. He shoved Malfoy against the wall and was on him in a second. He pressed his body against him, pressing Malfoy back with an arm across his upper chest.

Malfoy was breathing quickly, but he was still grinning. God, did Harry want to wipe that smile off his face.

"Did I touch a nerve, Potter?" Malfoy laughed.

"Fuck you!" Harry yelled, ramming his arm the Slytherin's chest. He heard the satisfying noise of the air rushing of Malfoy's lungs.

"I told you to stop messing with me," Harry said.

"Seriously, Potter. What are you going to do? Rape me?" Malfoy asked breathlessly.

Harry pressed his body hard against Malfoy's, making sure he could feel him. He could defiantly feel Malfoy; the whole long, lean length of his body.

"Just don't underestimate me," Harry growled. "You can only push me so far."

Suddenly, the muscles in Malfoy's body shuddered. Harry felt a rush of power. He'd made the bastard tremble. Though Malfoy's face remained impassive, Harry relaxed, knowing his message had gotten through. Before Malfoy could say anything more, Harry tore away from him and walked away, making sure he disappeared from Malfoy's sight.

Once alone, Harry heaved a sigh of relief. To think, only a few hours ago he'd been missing his confrontations with Malfoy!

"Harry, would you please eat something? It's not healthy to skip meals."

"I'm not hungry."

"Please, Harry! For the love of Merlin, just eat something to shut her up!"

Hermione swatted at Ron playful. He caught her hand and held onto it a minute.

"Please Harry? So we don't have to get lectured for the rest of the night?" he asked.

Harry frowned at his dinner. He stabbed holes in his mashed potatoes with his fork.

"I'm never going to eat again," Harry said bluntly. He continued to look pitiful.

"What's the matter? Did practice go badly or something?" Hermione asked, her face contorting with concern.

Harry shook his head.

"Yeah, it went fine," Ron confirmed. "We made up this great new play that's really gonna-"

"Harry, tell us. We're your friends. You're supposed to come to us when you're having problems. Is this about Sirius?"

Harry winced at the sound of that name.

"Is it, then?" Hermione insisted.

Harry said nothing for a moment. Then he murmured something unintelligible.

"What's that?"

"I said…I said what do you think Sirius would think of me if...if he knew? What would my parents think? Would they be…"

Harry broke off, unable to say the rest. Tears were already threatening. He could feel them, hot and thick, bubbling from the corners of his eyes.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, then back at Harry. Ron dropped his fork and it clanked heavily on the table. They both moved forward, and Hermione grabbed Harry's hands.

"Harry, listen to me. Those people loved you. They would never think anything bad about you. They would have supported you all the way."

Harry was staring blankly in front of him, his eyebrows drawn together.

"They'd be ashamed of me," he whispered.

"No! No, they wouldn't!" Ron exclaimed.

"They'd be proud of you," Hermione said, "I mean, facing up to the most volatile wizard to ever live is pretty good. But coming out, however unintentional it may have been, that took guts."

Harry had to crack a grin, even if it was tiny, and caused one of his tears to spill over. He quickly brought his sleeve to his cheek; wiping it away so fast it was as if it was never there.

"I guess," he said.

"It did, Harry. You're braver than all of the Gryffindors put together for that. James and Lily would have been proud to say that you were their son. And Sirius loved you no matter what. You know that."

Harry just nodded, looking down with his hair dangling in his eyes. He sniffled and pushed his chicken leg around his plate with his fork.

"If you don't mind me asking, why were you thinking that just now?" Hermione asked.

"Just something someone said…"

"What? Who? Who said that to you?" Ron fumed.

"Er…" Harry muttered.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to say. It was bad enough that Malfoy had quite literally made him cry (Oh God, oh God, he did not just admit that). But to have them know, well that just made it somehow worse. He didn't want Malfoy to be able make him feel like shit. He didn't want Malfoy to have any sort of power over him.

He didn't want his friends to know that Malfoy had power over him. They'd want to protect him, and he didn't want that. He didn't want to need their protection. He wanted to be strong.

But he felt so weak. Malfoy was getting to him. Malfoy was getting inside him. It was scary. And it made him want to hurt Malfoy really badly. Not physically hurt. No, that wasn't good enough. He wanted to hurt him mentally. He wanted to fuck him up from the inside out.

But he didn't know how to do that.

"Harry…who said it?" Ron demanded. He had gone red in the face. "I swear I'll pound the living shit out of whoever had the guts to-"

"Ron! Please. I can fight my own battles," Harry snapped.

He rubbed his eyes vigorously with his shirt, nearly jostling his glasses off of his face. When he looked up, the tears were gone from his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot, but dry.

"You don't know how mad this makes me. I have to hit someone now, so just tell me who I ought to be aiming for."

"No! Just…just don't, Ron. Just let this go," Harry said.

"No! That was a bloody awful thing to say to someone. Whoever it was deserves a pounding!"

"Ron, Harry asked you to let it go," Hermione said.

"Do you want to let it go? Are you just going to sit around and let someone say cruel things like that and put ideas into Harry's head?"

"Malfoy didn't put it into my head. I've already thought it. He just said it out loud, is all," Harry said.

Then he clamped his mouth shut.

Too late. Ron had heard.

"Malfoy? Malfoy said that? The little inbred…rat faced…stuck up…" Ron could barely speak, he was so angry.

"Ron, do not do anything to him! Do you understand me? Don't. This is for me to deal with, not you," Harry said.

Hermione was struggling to keep Ron at the table. He was pumping his firsts in the air and sputtering hateful words.

"Just one punch, Harry. Just let me shatter his nose. With any luck it'll heal funny and he'll be ugly," Ron snarled.

"No!" Harry said a little too quickly. He directed his statement elsewhere. "No. Don't give him the satisfaction of being angry. That's what he wants."

"You're just going to let him talk to you like that?" Ron asked, his eyes bulging.

"Yeah. No. Listen, I'll get him back in my own way. Having you march over there and start a fist fight with him isn't going to do anything but get both of you detention for the rest of the year."

"So what are you going to do, then? Extract revenge by ignoring him?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do. Give me time; I'll think of something. Something good. Trust me, guys; I'm going to get him back. I just need time to come up with something bigger."

Draco Malfoy never had trouble sleeping. Not before, he hadn't, anyway. Tonight, however, the entire time he'd laid in bed, he'd been tossing, turning, scrunching up and spreading out, kicking down his blankets and pulling them up again. And all the time there'd been this little voice inside his mind nagging at him. Talking to him. Chastening him.

He'd gone too far today, and he knew it. He'd said (and done) some pretty awful things to Harry Potter before, but this defiantly topped the list.

Somehow, before, he'd always been able to convince himself that Potter deserved every bit of hassling that Draco gave him. He told himself that it wouldn't hurt to knock Potter down a few pegs. Merlin knew Potters' head was far too big anyway. It would do him good to be reminded that he wasn't king of the world- he wasn't even king of the school.

But tonight Draco couldn't use that defense. He'd looked into Potter's eyes far to many times in the past few days to be able to fool himself into thinking that The-Boy-Who-Lived was too strong and confident to let anything Draco said bother him. He knew Potter was hurting. He knew he was feeling vulnerable. He could somehow feel that just from being around him.

He'd kicked Potter when he was down. There was no glory in that.

Still, Draco was angry with himself for caring. Why should he care if he'd hurt Harry Potter? Hell, he should have been thrilled! He'd finally gotten to him, really gotten to him.

Why didn't it feel good? How come every time he pictured the hurt in Harry's eyes, he felt sick to his stomach?

Finally tired of thrashing about in his bed, listening to his conscience babble on, Draco got up. He pulled on his silky green robe with the silver dragon on the back and crept down to the common room. There he sat before the dying embers of the fire, watching the hour grow later. He worried fleetingly that he'd be tired in classes tomorrow but then he remembered that Snape was gone, and his class would be taught by a substitute, presumably. He'd just get some sleep then, instead of completing the busy-work they were sure to be bothered with.

Suddenly the scene with Snape that morning unfolded in his memory. He remember the distinct feeling that the little bit of hesitation Snape seemed to feel was only the tip of the iceberg. He had a feeling something much bigger was going on.

Too bad he had no idea what.

He wondered if he should write to his mother and try to see if anything was going on. It would be tricky though. He couldn't ask outright if his father was coming home, because there was always the chance the letter could be intercepted and read, in which case the breakout would be stopped.

Of course, Snape could be on his way to put a stop to it that very moment.

Draco felt dizzy. He was tired and overly emotional. Yet he couldn't find solace in sleep. He just wished he could find some answers to his questions. That would bring him at least a small bit of peace.

Then he started to think that maybe he could find some answers. All he needed to know was where to look.

And he suddenly had a very good idea about where to start…

Harry couldn't sleep. He was curled in a ball in the center of his bed feeling very small and miserable.

He tried to recall memories of himself being brave. He tried to remember how it felt to be fearless. But he couldn't. He couldn't remember. All that he felt was anxiety and shame.

'What your parents would think. What would Lily and James Potter say if they knew their little boy was a fag?'

Malfoy's face swam before his. Harry tossed to the side, squeezing his eyes shut, pulling his pillow over his head. But he still saw him, still heard his words. Still saw his cocky, triumphant smile. Why couldn't Harry just forget it? Why did it have to be such a big deal? Why did it hurt so much?

And why couldn't Malfoy just leave him alone? For once. Why did he have to make everything ten times harder than it had to be?

One day all the torture Malfoy put him through would make him stronger. He'd grow thicker skin over the wounds he'd been inflicted with. He would mend himself, tougher than he used to be. But before he was fixed, he had to be broken.

Realizing that sleep was not going to come to him that night, Harry got up. He pulled a red t-shirt over his bare chest and yanked a pair of flannel pajama pants over his boxers. Then he pulled up the lid of his trunk and gently unwrapped his invisibility cloak.

Harry swirled it over his head and let it fall over him, washing him out. Then he slunk out of his room, out of the portrait hole and into the school. He wandered around a bit, following random staircases that disappeared behind him, going through doorways that sealed up into walls, not having any specific place to go. He was just wandering, thinking.

At least he was until he heard footsteps up ahead of him. He instinctively jumped into the shadows, although already invisible. Then he dashed ahead, using a technique of light, silent padding that he'd perfected over the years. He moved down a flight of spiral stairs until he reached the bottom landing. The dank smell of fungus and the cold feeling of the stonewalls told him he was in the dungeon part of Hogwarts. He figured he must be somewhere near Snape's classroom; only on the other side of it, the side the Slytherins entered from.

Up ahead him was a large, dark door with a silver snake in the shape of an 'S' marking it.

Ohmygod, he thought, it had to be Snape's quarters! And somebody was sneaking in!

Slowly, scarcely breathing, Harry moved forward. He stopped and watched the figure (which obviously male, he thought, noting the height and lack of breasts) jam something into the door, rattling it. The door opened. The figure was cast in a warm, candlelit glow coming from inside the room.

Harry gasped.

There, standing in the doorway in a pair of silky black pants and a long, ordinate kimono type robe, was Draco Malfoy.