The following week passed by in a blur for Harry. He threw himself into all of his activities with a feverish intensity; his homework, quidditch practice, studying, until he was able to fall into bed each night filled with exhaustion and fall instantly to sleep. He refused to allow his mind to become idle, he needed to keep busy every waking moment. He was even glad of his detentions with Snape, as they kept him occupied until very late at night. He spent little time with Ron and Hermione after his long talk with Ethan. Ethan had made him realize that his two friends didn't really understand him that much, and never had. During the time he did spend with them he found himself watching them from an outsider's perspective, they seemed so content to just let life pass them by without dwelling on the future or the dangers of today. They didn't seem as weighed down with troubles and as life weary as he was, he suddenly felt years older and unable to relate to them anymore.

He spent a few afternoons with Ethan, just talking about how alienated he felt now among his friends and about other every day things. He didn't want to talk about Draco and Ethan respected that by not asking annoyingly sympathetic questions about his feelings, like the ones Hermione kept pestering him with. She took on the wounded puppy look and tilted her head to the side whenever she tried to get him to discuss Draco. Even Ron was acting strange, he wasn't asking bothersome questions and he acted like he was afraid that Harry was going to burst into tears at any moment.

      Harry's plan of over-working himself to keep his mind occupied worked perfectly until Saturday morning. He had just served his last detention the night before, he had no quidditch practice today, and worst of all no classes to attend. He had the whole day spread out before him with nothing to keep him busy. His thoughts immediately turned to Draco as he lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. The worst part was that this was their usual day to meet each other in the Shrieking Shack.

Harry squeezed his eyes closed and tried to prevent the painful memories from flooding his mind. He put a hand to his mouth to keep the threatening sobs from escaping. Quick glimpses of his time spent with Draco played cruelly in his head; sleeping in each other's arms, laughing and joking together, carefree, happy.....loved.

Harry threw back his bed hangings and bolted from the room, only sparing enough time to grab his glasses and invisibility cloak on the way.

He pushed past the portrait and sprinted away from Gryffindor tower as fast as he could, tears beginning to blind his vision. The wall paintings turned into blurs of colour as he raced by, intent on reaching the Entrance doors as quickly as possible. The hall was devoid of any other students or faculty as he pushed the heavy doors and sprang outside. He only stopped when he had reached the seclusion and safety of his favourite spot by the lake.

He threw himself down onto the damp grass and allowed the pent-up sobs to break free. It was the first time since his horrible encounter with Draco, that he had allowed himself to let out the hurt and betrayal he had felt when Draco had been so callous towards him. There had been no hint of love or regret at all in those steel eyes, only a cool distance that bore no trace of recognition at all.

Harry squeezed his fists around the dew covered grass stalks and let his nails dig into his palms. He wanted to block out Draco Malfoy from his mind completely – forever, even if it meant replacing pain with pain.

Harry opened his eyes and looked down at his hands, little half crescent indents dotted his reddened palms. He found satisfaction at the sight of those testaments of physical pain. This was real. This he could control.

The only thing he could control in his life was the pain inflicted on himself by his own hands. Pain replacing pain. Mental pain overridden by physical pain.

Harry sat up tiredly and let his cloak drop off of his shoulders. What he really wanted to do was let out all the poisonous emotions inside of him by talking to someone he could trust, someone who wouldn't judge or interrupt with clichéd advice. Someone like Ethan.

He pushed himself off the ground and slung the cloak over one arm as he looked up at the school. Silhouettes were beginning to move past the windows as the rest of the school slowly woke up and headed down for breakfast.

Harry trudged back to the entrance and walked inside. He peeked into the Great Hall and saw that Ethan hadn't arrived yet. He decided to just wait for him at the door, not in the mood for any early morning conversations with his own house-mates.

"Looking for someone?"

Harry turned at the tap on his shoulder and smiled when he saw Ethan standing behind him.

"Yes, you actually," Harry replied.

"What did you want to see me for?" Ethan inquired, quickly glancing at the door to the dungeons.

"Could I talk to you?"

"Of course." Ethan smiled warmly. "I assume you want to talk somewhere private?"

"If you don't mind." Harry smiled apologetically. "I understand if you want to eat breakfast first..."

"No, I should be eating less anyway," Ethan said.

"You?" Harry grinned. "You're already in perfect shape.....I mean...."

He blushed in embarrassment.

"It's okay." Ethan winked. "I just want to be in tip-top shape when I start quidditch practice."

"Quidditch practice?" Harry frowned in confusion.

"Didn't you hear? Draco's dropped out."

Harry felt as though he'd been physically slapped in the face. "What?"

Ethan looked at him in concern. "Listen, why don't we go somewhere for that talk and I'll fill you in."

Harry nodded numbly and followed as Ethan led the way to his dorm room. He was in such a state of shock that he didn't even see Draco as he passed by in the opposite direction with Pansy.

"What's with, Potter?" Pansy wondered as she looked over her shoulder. "He looks like the walking dead."

Draco frowned and felt jealousy flow through his veins as he turned to see Ethan leading Harry down into the Slytherin dorms. He knew he had no right to feel this way, he had dumped Harry and treated him horrendously so he had no say as to who he saw or what he did. But it irked him none-the-less that Harry trusted this complete stranger. There was still something about the new Slytherin that made Draco uneasy, he just couldn't pinpoint what it was.....

He envied Ethan's freedom to do whatever he pleased, even if it meant publicly seeing Harry Potter to his heart's content. He obviously didn't have a maniacal father to deal with at home or a strict family protocol to follow.

Draco sat down to breakfast and suddenly didn't feel the slightest bit hungry anymore. He pushed his plate away angrily and sat in stony silence.

"Hey, Draco!" a seventh year boy named Dominic called out.

"What?" Draco answered irritably.

"I heard you quit the team?"

"Yeah, that's right. What about it?" Draco ground out with hostility.

"I was just wondering why," Dominic pressed.

"I have more important things to think about than silly games. My father agrees that I should focus on studying and furthering my education rather than wasting my time in quidditch."

"But-"

"No, no buts." Draco glared threateningly. "I quit, end of discussion."

Dominic returned the glare, but decided to leave it alone.

"Nice work, baby-cakes," Pansy whispered into his ear when everyone had turned away.

Draco just nodded silently.

"I'm sorry I made you leave the team, but I can't have you in such close proximity to Potter now can I?" Pansy smiled sweetly. "It could lead to all sorts of problems and feelings, and you really don't want your father to hear about things like that, do you?"

Draco clenched his jaw and made no reply.


                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

         Harry sat down on Ethan's chair and stared unseeing into the fire. He was glad that the seventh years got their own private rooms so he could be sure that they wouldn't be interrupted.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about?" Ethan asked gently, seating himself on the floor in front of the fire.

Harry snapped out of his daze and looked at Ethan, hurt reflected in his emerald eyes. "Why would he leave the quidditch team?"

"I don't know, Harry," Ethan replied with a shake of his head. "All I know is that he decided to resign and the captain offered me the job of replacing him as seeker."

"It's as if he doesn't even want to acknowledge my existence anymore," Harry muttered sadly, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Isn't it easier for you this way?" Ethan asked quietly.

"I don't know....maybe."

"Even if it hurts to know that he's avoiding you, don't you think that it'll help you move on?"

"But it hurts," Harry sobbed. "It's so final. I think some part of me still hoped that he would come back to me, that he'd overcome whatever it is he's fighting against and we could be together....like we were before."

Ethan stood and gathered Harry into his arms. "Shhh....its okay, Harry."

Harry cried into Ethan's chest as he smoothed his hair and gently rocked him.

After a few minutes, Harry hiccoughed and pulled back with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that," he said, looking at the wet spot on Ethan's shirt.

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Ethan assured him. "This is what you need to do, isn't it? Let out everything you're feeling and just free yourself from the past. I'm happy to help you any way I can."

"Thanks," Harry smiled, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Ethan let go of him with a grin and went to fetch some Kleenex from his bathroom. Harry sat back down in the chair and let out a breath of air. He actually did feel a little better now.

"Here you go." Ethan reappeared and handed Harry a tissue.

"Thanks."

"Listen, Harry," Ethan started hesitantly. "I hate to do this to you, but I was kind of planning on going to Hogsmeade today...."

"Oh, sorry." Harry jumped up and hastily retreated towards the door. "Go ahead, I didn't mean to keep you."

"Are you sure?" Ethan asked worriedly. "I could stay? Or you could come too?"

"No, it's fine," Harry assured him. "I'm fine. Go on."

"Alright, if you're sure."

"Yes, positive." Harry nodded.

"You're welcome to stay here if you want some time alone, anytime, not just today," Ethan offered.

"Thanks," Harry accepted gratefully. "I'll definitely take you up on that some time. I think I'd better go back to my room now, my friends might worry."

Ethan narrowed his eyes as he turned to open the door, shielding his annoyed expression from Harry.

Harry followed Ethan to the Entrance Hall and bid him goodbye at the door, then turned and slowly made his way back to Gryffindor tower. He spotted Ron and Hermione playing exploding snap by the window and tried to slip by them to his room unnoticed.

No such luck.

"Harry, there you are!" Ron called. "Come over, you can play the winner."

"Uh, no thanks," Harry declined. "I think I'm just going to go lie down for a bit."

"But you just got up," Hermione frowned.

"Yeah, but I'm tired," Harry explained, edging his way towards the stairs.

Hermione glanced at Ron with a look that clearly said to not let Harry go.

"Er, Harry?" Ron said standing up. "Do you want to.....talk or something?"

"No, that's okay," Harry smiled. "I'll just see you later."

Without waiting for a reply, Harry bolted from the room.

Hermione sighed and turned towards Ron with a frustrated frown. "I just don't know how to talk to him anymore," she said in exasperation.

"I know," Ron said, sitting back down. "I'm afraid that if we push him too much he'll just get angry, and if we don't try at all then we'll just be letting him get worse and worse."

"If he doesn't want to talk about it then we should just wait until he makes the first move, but keep an eye on him in the mean time."

"Agreed." Ron nodded.

                        *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

        Harry fell into his bed and promptly fell asleep. He dreamed vividly about Draco and Ethan, the two blending together and changing shape, but it soon turned into a nightmare.

Voldemort was laughing, he was very pleased about something.....

Harry began to toss and turn in bed as his scar began its usual prickling, eventually turning into full-blown searing pain.

Something was wrong. He could almost see it.....a dead body and a lone Death Eater. Voldemort was definitely pleased about it.

Too much pain.

Harry woke with a scream and fell to the floor as he retched, sweat dripping down his pale face and his eyes wide with terror. He knew what he had seen was a vision, not just a bad dream. He'd been so preoccupied with trying to get over Draco that he'd completely forgotten about his Occlumency training, he also knew that whatever it was he had seen had already happened and there was nothing he could do to reverse it.

He picked himself up off the floor and used his wand to clean up the mess he'd made.

"I have to tell Dumbledore," he thought to himself.

He glanced at his bedside clock and saw that he'd been asleep for a long while - it was almost dinner time. He wiped his face on his sleeve and left the room, creeping down the stairs carefully to see who was in the common room.

It was practically empty, except for Ron and Hermione. Harry sighed and stepped off the last stair, bracing himself for the onslaught of worried questions and concerned looks.

Strangely, they did little more than give him a friendly wave before going back to their homework. Harry smiled slightly and paused, maybe he should tell them about the vision.....

No, he didn't want to worry them. He was sure their life was a lot simpler and a lot more peaceful when he wasn't burdening them with all of his problems, so he returned the wave and headed off to see Professor Dumbledore.

When he reached the stone gargoyles protecting the headmaster's office he realized that he hadn't been there in quite some time and didn't know the new password. He paused outside and chewed on his bottom lip.

"Lemon drops?" he tried. "Chocolate frogs? Fizzing Whizz-bees?"

The gargoyle seemed to glare at Harry in annoyance from his perch on the wall.

"Mr Potter."

Harry turned and saw Professor McGonagall heading towards him. "I need to see-"

"The headmaster needs to see you right away," she interrupted.

"He already knows?" Harry asked.

She gave him a strange look and frowned. "How do you know...."

"I had a dream," he explained.

"Are you alright? You seem to be taking it awfully calmly."

"What do you mean? All I know is that someone is dead," Harry said, a panicked fear starting to build in his chest.

"I think you should talk to the headmaster." McGonagall placed a hand on his shoulder and gave the password. "Candy cane."

She led Harry up the steps and the two emerged into Dumbledore's office. There were three Aurors gathered around Dumbledore's desk and few members of the Order, including Snape.

They all turned to stare at Harry as he entered.

"Ah, you found him," Dumbledore said to Professor McGonagall.

"He was already here waiting to speak with you, Albus," she replied. "He had a vision, but he doesn't know....."

Harry's heart dropped when he saw the look of pity that crossed Dumbledore's face. The headmaster looked tired and....could he have been crying?

"That will be all," the headmaster announced to the group. "I need to speak with Harry alone."

They all trooped out, including McGonagall and Snape - not one of them meeting Harry's worried eyes.

"Have a seat," Dumbledore invited.

Harry perched nervously on the edge of the chair opposite Dumbledore's desk. The headmaster stood looking out the window, obviously contemplating something. Harry tried to fight down the rising panic, it was probably nothing.....

Albus finally turned and headed for his desk, then thought better of it and decided to sit in the chair next to Harry.

"Harry, what did you see in your vision?" he asked.

"I saw one Death Eater and Voldemort, and a....dead body. Voldemort was really happy about something."

"Did you recognize the Death Eater?"

"No, he was masked."

"Did you recognize where they were?" he pressed.

"No....I don't think so. It looked like they were outside though, maybe in a forest or something," Harry said, thinking hard.

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head.

"You know who was killed, don't you?" Harry finally asked.

"Yes I do."

"Please, tell me," Harry pleaded quietly.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Dumbledore spoke sadly. "I hate to be the one to always bring you bad news. You don't deserve this...."

"Who?" Harry whispered fearfully.

"It was Remus Lupin."