Title: Invisusamore
Author: Nephimar
Rating: PG-13 (for a while anyway)
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own any of these characters. No trademark infringement is intended. I just enjoy torturing fictional characters.
Additional Rambling: Well, this chapter took much longer to finally write than I thought it would. Oops. I would apologize... but I'm in a Slytherin mood and Slytherins don't say 'sorry.' shrug There's nothing I can do about it. Take it up with the Slytherins. (Oh, and the z's signify a change of POV.)
Warnings: Eh, well... Draco's being a meanie. Hints at homosexuality and... ah, that's it really.
On with the story...
Invisusamore
A Plethora of Pamphlets
It was 6:30 on a Saturday morning and Harry Potter found himself seated in the Great Hall with the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ron, who had been chosen to be captain, was determined to win the Cup this year and therefore implemented a rigorous training schedule almost as soon as they'd stepped off the Hogwarts Express.
Harry noticed Ginny snoring into her plate of eggs and watched as Andrew Kirke's head kept drooping down then snapping up again as he tried to stay awake. "Ron, I think you might just be worst than Oliver," Harry complained as he fought to keep his own eyes open.
"Harry, don't you want to beat Slytherin in the final?" Ron seemed to take for granted that it would come down to a Gryffindor vs. Slytherin showdown.
"Well, yeah. But why do we have to practice so early?"
Ron gave the same exasperated sigh he always gave when answering similar questions. "Because no one else will be up to spy on us." He paused and added, "well, no one but Malfoy. He's up to something, he is. The way he keeps watching you... he's up to something, I know he is."
Harry glanced over to the Slytherin table where Malfoy was seated. He hadn't thought anyone else had noticed how much Malfoy had been observing him these last few days. Apparently Ron had. In between the usual glares and sneers, the Slytherin had been giving him calculating looks. Even more disturbing had been the malicious smiles he kept getting from Pansy Parkinson. Yes, the Slytherins were definitely up to something.
zzzzzzzzzz
On the other side of the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy watched as the Gryffindor quidditch team rose and headed for the pitch. As the last member left the hall, he raised his goblet of pumpkin juice in a silent salute and drained the remaining contents.
Today was the day he would win his bet with Pansy. He'd been observing Potter very closely for the past few days and had found the best way to mortify him: girls. Girls made Potter very twitchy. Okay, he might be fine when around the Mudblood and Weaselette, but if he wasn't able to play the brotherly bit, he seemed to be completely out of his depth. As far as Draco's knowledge went, Potter had only ever been interested in one girl. And all of Hogwarts knew how his little fling with Chang had ended.
Another observation Draco had made was just how much Potter hated to be photographed. Creepy Creevey was constantly dancing around him and waving that camera of his in Potter's face.
From these observations, he had formed a idea. Creevey's photo's were relatively easy to come by. Nearly every empty-headed Hufflepuff was infatuated with the Golden Gryffindor and had in her possession a picture or two from Creevey. Draco had enrolled Pansy's help to 'borrow' some of these and had found the best pictures to fit the purpose he meant to put them to.
Draco smiled to himself as the first early rising Slytherins entered the Great Hall. He reached under the table and pulled a box up on to the seat next to him. He spent the rest of the morning passing out the means of his victory and giving instructions for their distribution to his fellow Slytherins. By noon, every student in Hogwarts would be privy to Potter's 'preferences'.
zzzzzzzzzz
Harry was exhausted. Practice had lasted for three hours and Ron had been very sparing on breaks. When practice was finally declared over, he had landed and dismounted his broom with a sigh of relief. At least one thing good came from this grueling training; there was no way any of the other teams were going to have an easy time playing them.
Harry showered quickly and left the changing rooms. Instead of returning to the castle, he and Ron stayed on the grounds while the other members of the team trudged back across the lawns. The day was warm and too few sunny days remained of the year for them to be wasted inside. And really, Harry was just too tired to be enthused about walking all the way back to the castle.
They sat under the sparse shade of a large molting oak tree and discussed the progress the team had made. The team had taken a hard blow when most it's players had graduated last year. But Ginny was a surprisingly good Chaser and Dennis Creevey wasn't that bad either. With his slight build and light weight, he just might be able to replace Harry as Seeker after he left Hogwarts. Yes, all in all, the team was none too shabby.
Their conversation was cut short by the sight of Hermione running across the lawn in their direction and waving her arms frantically. They rose to their feet and headed toward her fearing the worst. Had Voldemort attacked somewhere? Had something gone wrong in the Order?
Harry held his breath as Hermione reached them and bent double trying to catch her breath.
"Harry... They're all over... the school," she panted. "Don't know how... bet it was Malfoy." She waved folded pieces of parchment at Harry and he them from her with trepidation.
It appeared to be a pamphlet. What he saw on the cover made all worries of Voldemort and the on going struggle vanish. His jaw dropped as he read the heading. "Harry Potter's Secret Fetish" Below that was a picture of Harry staring off into space.
With growing anxiety, he opened to the first page. What he saw there made him livid. The pamphlet first detailed his lack of interest in women and was filled with pictures of him shying out of the shot and various girls trying to drag him back in. It then went on to show him polishing his broom in the common room and a caption hinting at the phallic symbolism.
He closed the pamphlet without looking at the last few pages and handed it to Ron. "How many of these are there?" he asked tonelessly.
"Nearly everyone has one," Hermione replied with worry tingeing her voice.
Ron's eyes widened as he read through the pages and he cast a curious look at Harry. "Mate, this isn't... you know...?"
"True?!" Harry asked incredulously. "Of course it isn't!"
"Oh, yeah. I knew it wasn't. Just, eh... checking," he said lamely.
Without another word, Harry turned to the castle and stalked toward it. He didn't stop until he reached the Great Hall. Along the way, Ron and Hermione trailed after him and other students hid bits of paper from his sight and cast speculative looks his way. He entered the Hall and looked straight to the Slytherin table.
Malfoy was seated in his usual spot and looking quite smug. When he saw that Harry had entered the room, the Slytherin saluted him with one of the pamphlets. It took every ounce of will he possessed to refrain from whipping out his wand and hexing Ferret Face into oblivion.
To prove that he wouldn't let Malfoy effect him, he calmly walked over to the Gryffindor table and took a seat. He very carefully added some food to a plate and began eating without any outward sign of his rage. Everyone around him was trying to stare at him without appearing to do so. Harry ignored them all and continued with his eating.
Hermione cautiously make an attempt to talk to him. "Um, Harry, you're not going to do anything... rash? Are you?"
"Yes, Mr. Potter, I would like to know that as well." Harry had been so focused on ignoring all the stares that he hadn't seen Professor McGonnagall approach the table.
"No, Professor. I won't." I won't be rash at all. My retaliation is going to be thought out and thorough, he added to himself.
"See that you don't."
A/N: The next chapter won't take nearly as long. In fact, it's already written. But I'm holding it hostage and ransoming it for reviews.