Title: Love Is Blind

Author: silverXserpent

Rating: R


Chapter Two Behind it All

Harry definitely regretted not getting enough sleep the previous night when a loud hammering on his room door woke him up on the morning of September 1st.

"Harry, mate! You up yet?" Ron's muffled voice bellowed through the wood as the banging continued. "S'already ten-thirty!"

Harry sat bolt upright and snatched his wristwatch from the bedside table, and realized that his friend was not lying and that it was indeed thirty minutes before the departure time of the Hogwarts Express.

He tumbled out of bed, pulling the sheets with him and raced to the bathroom to take a quick shower before dressing and packing up his belongings. He was never so thankful as now about the fact that he was no longer underage and could do magic outside of school, including apparition which he planned to do to get to King's Cross on time. He yanked the moldy shower curtains shut around him and turned the hot water knob to full blast, nearly getting a second degree burn from the intensive heat. This was not a good sign. Things were already going badly even though he'd hardly been awake for five minutes.

After his quick shower, he ran back to the bedroom still dripping water everywhere and scrubbed at his hair with his towel desperately to dry it. Usually, he would take a lot more time with his impossible hair, but today, it seemed that he'd have to head to school looking as disheveled as a dog. He'd probably receive a few laughs from his friends because of it too, but it wasn't like he had a choice now. It was either his hair, or missing the train, and he preferred not receiving detention on the first day back from the summer holidays.

While toweling his hair with one hand, he managed to cram all his school books and new supplies into his large trunk, and then very unneatly buttoned up his shirt and trousers and tied his trainers. He didn't even want to examine the mirror for he knew he'd see horror in the glass. Hermione might give him a lecture about dressing more like a gentleman, instead of some homeless rag, Harry mused with a sigh.

Finally twenty minutes later, he was thundering down the staircase to the main lounge where both Ron and Hermione were waiting with crossed arms and impatient frowns on their faces.

"God Harry! What took you so bloody long?" Ron cried out jabbing his forefinger at the floating clock above their heads. "We've got ten minutes!"

Hermione groaned in frustration.

"Can we just apparate now and argue later?"

"Definitely." Harry replied, somewhat relieved that they were in such a hurry that the lectures would have to wait until later. "Let's go."

All three whipped out their wands from their pockets with a slightly nervous nod and a loud pop, disappeared from the Leaky Cauldron and found themselves stumbling onto the hard platform at King's Cross.

"Now hurry!" Hermione urged, heaving her trunk up from the ground and grabbing Crookshank's cage violently. She didn't even bother to charm her luggage into becoming feather light but just began hurrying through the crowd of muggles and a moment later, she was swallowed into the solid metal barrier on the other side of the platform.

Ron and Harry followed her at a run without hesitation and braced themselves as they neared the wall with their eyes closed and their teeth clenched tightly. Ever since their second year, they hadn't been able to approach the barrier without thinking that it would close up on them again. A terribly painful experience it had been.

But to their relief, when they opened their eyes, they found themselves standing in front of the billowing red steam engine that was already full of Hogwarts students sticking their heads out of the windows to wave goodbye to their parents who were waving back from the edge of platform 9 3/4 . The train gave a loud toot and Harry, Ron, and Hermione scrambled desperately to the door closest to them and threw their trunks and pet cages through it, and then pulled themselves up just in time.

The door shut with a click behind them and a sudden jerk made them loose balance and they tumbled over one another painfully.

"Ouch Ron! That's my hair you're grabbing!" screeched Hermione.

"Who's grabbing my arse then?" Ron shouted, blushing a magnificent hue of red and rolling over to find the offending hand. "Mione!"

Hermione flushed even more scarlet and she jumped away from Ron hurriedly.

"I honestly did NOT mean that!" she exclaimed indignantly. "It was just... there!"

Harry stifled a laugh and stood up from the now steady floor and dusted himself off.

Ron and Hermione were still glaring at each other as they made their way down the length of the train in search of an empty compartment or one that was not too full.

The train corridor was swarming with other students who were looking for a place to settle down as well and it took nearly five minutes for the three to pass one compartment. Almost all of them seemed to be occupied and most of the faces that they saw were very young and unfamiliar.

"Looks like we're going to be squashed by first years this year." Ron said a bit grumpily and glaring at the innocent kids who were busy gaping and pointing through the glass at Harry as he passed.

"You make it sound as if it were a bad thing." Hermione scolded. "We should be happy for them that they even have a school to come to! And it's all thanks to Harry."

Harry winced inwardly and forced a smile onto his face. If there was one thing he didn't understand, it was that no one seemed to get it that Harry hated being reminded about his encounter with Voldemort. Entirely avoiding the subject was impossible but at least, Ron and Hermione, they should know that Harry wasn't all proud and feeling victorious about any of it. The sickening rush in his stomach from the deathly battle was embedded clearly into his body and he felt weak and shaky every time the images came back to his mind.

Harry unconsciously clentched his fists tightly onto the hem of his shirt and closed his eyes for a second to try and forget about it. He wonderered what it'd have been like if he hadn't been born as Harry Potter; and instead he was some random person that no one knew about and no one cared about. He supposed it'd be a very peaceful life with no expectations and no pressure to do things that he didn't want to do.

What if I wasn't born a wizard? Harry thought to himself. What if I never knew about Voldemort and magic? Would I be happy?

"Let's take this one, it's the only one that's left." Hermione's voice intercepted his wonderings and brought him back to the real world. The one where he was indeed a wizard and the one where he was of course the famous Harry Potter who could go no where without being bombarded by various people. With a sigh, he followed his friends into the nearly empty compartment and closed the door behind him. There were only a few others in the compartment with them. A timid looking girl who looked like a first year and two more students that Harry recognized as fourth year Hufflepuff boys. Their talking suddenly halted when the trio entered and their eyes widened with surprise. Harry decided to ignore them and led Ron and Hermione to a seat at a bit of a distance.

Outside the window, the rain continuing from last night was still pattering endlessly against the glass, and the temperature was uncomfortably chilly. Harry felt goosebumps rise on his arms and he shivered slightly.

Ron and Hermione were no longer glaring at each other but Hermione, her cheeks tinged pink, scooted away from Ron towards the window and fixed her gaze onto the fuzzy scenery flying by instead. Sometimes, Harry wanted to roll his eyes at the stubborness of the two, for it was so completely obvious that both had feelings for each other, yet niether would admit it in any way. Ron was fiddling with his hands and shooting apprehensive glances in her direction and looked as if he wanted to say something but would close his mouth each time he opened it.

Harry decided it'd be wise not to comment and so sunk further into his seat to see if he could catch a nap since he'd hardly slept last night. He didn't expect to sleep for long though, since he was sure that Malfoy and his cronies would come strutting into their compartment soon enough like they did every year, to disrupt the peace of the Gryffindors.

And speaking of Malfoy... his mind drifted once more to their encounter the previous day and he frowned, feeling unsatsified about something. He placed this odd feeling as that of suspicion; he was probably suspicious of the little ferret sneaking around unpopulated sections of bookstores. Even though Hermione had claimed that Flourish & Blott's didn't stock illegal books, there had to be something along the lines of the Dark Arts that Malfoy was secretly after. Something that had to do with old deceased wizards...

The rain outside seemed to be getting louder and louder as Harry lay their with his eyes closed. So loud that the noise was confusing Harry. Slowly he began to realize that the sound was no longer that of rain. The steady patter mulitplied and increased in volume and all of the sudden, it was beginning to roar like the wind and faintly, very faintly, voices... voices were shouting and screaming; laughter, shrill, evil laughter...

His forehead split open with pain and he felt as if the air in his lungs were being whipped out of him. He choked and tried to clutch at his throat but his arms were pinned to his sides and useless.

He tried to shout for help but he couldn't breath.

The pain in his body was familiar... he'd felt it before... someone had him under the Cruciatus Curse.

No! He cried out soundlessly. He tried to fight it in vain, he was too weak. Hermione and Ron were in danger. Had someone captured them too?

Then, as quickly as the pain had come, it was gone and panting desperately for air, he rolled over and felt his face scrape against soft dirt.

Dirt? What the hell? His eyes shot open and sure enough, he was laying on fresh brown dirt. The air about him was dark and icy. Where the hell am I?

He forced his shaking body up off the ground and he steadied himself onto his knees. What he saw when he straightened, made his blood run cold and his heart to stop beating.

This can't be.... He thought frantically. This wasn't possible!

He was encircled by three Death Eaters, their faces hidden and unrecognizable. All three had their wands pointed at him and were closing in on him rapidly.

He dug his hands instinctively into his back pocket to retrieve his wand but his hand came up empty. He searched frantically and finally spotted it lying a few feet away from him and half buried in the ground.

"Get the wand!" a Death Eater screamed as Harry lunged for it.

His fingers closed around it before any of them could stop him and he threw himself out of the way as a Death Eater flew from his right to the place where he'd been kneeling a few seconds before.

Scrambling to his feet, he bellowed the disarming spell and two Death Eaters's wands splintered and fell to the ground in pieces. The last Death Eater, acting before Harry had a chance to disarm him, turned his shadowed face to Harry's and then, did something that made Harry's mouth drop open in shock. The Death Eater, instead of pointing the wand at Harry, rounded on his two unarmed fellow attackers and stunned them on the spot. The cloaked figures collapsed to their feet and lay motionless. Their hoods slid off their faces and Harry immediately recognised them as the father's of Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. The similarity in their unintelligent looking faces was unmistakable.

The remaining Death Eater turned back to him and this time, pointing his wand not at Harry, but at a point somewhere over Harry's shoulder.

"Run!" the figure hissed urgently. "Hurry up and get away from here boy!"

Harry stared, his mind completely benumbed.

"Wha-" he began to walk backwards step by step, his own wand still at the ready in case this was a trick.

"Quickly, just go!" the hiss came again.

Harry gulped and nodded slowly. He turned on his heel to flee but a second voice, a more menacing and cold, high pitched voice, shouted out a curse and he tumbled back to the earth, his arms and legs bound by an invisble cord.

"Not so fast Harry." it said.

"My Lord!" he heard the Death Eater stammer in a fearful voice.

"My my my." Voldemort laughed icily. "I would have never guessed that you would be the one."

"No! You are mistaken, My Lord. I am not-"

"Save your breath, for your shameless excuses are a waste of my time." Voldemort smirked. "It's a pity your son could not be here to witness your death. Such a pity."

"My Lord- I bow down at your feet! I worship you like no other-"

"Send my greetings to your father. He was just as worthless as you. Farewell."

"My Lord-"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Harry screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Harry! Harry!"

"You can't kill him!"

"Harry! Wake up!"

Harry felt someone tug at his sleeve then someone slap his cheek, leaving it sore and stinging.

He opened his eyes and nearly sreamed again when he found himself staring at four wide and frightened looking eyes. Two of them brown and two of them light blue.

"Harry! You okay? What happened, mate?" Ron asked, shaking his shoulder.

"Oh Harry! You scared us so much! Was it another dream? Are you okay?" Hermione bent over him and put a cool palm on his hot forehead. "You don't have a fever..."

Harry groaned and clamped his hand over his mouth and rolled over.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Ron! Get a bag! Or anything! Something!"

"A b-bag? I don't have one!"

"Oh you're never any use!" Hermione snapped angrily, snatching her wand from her backpocket. She immediately conjured up a paper bag and handed it to Harry who took it gratefully and emptied his stomach into it.

Ron grimaced and leaned back away from him, his face looking a bit green.

"At least you're not hacking up slugs." he muttered under his breath.

Hermione shot him another look and Ron shut up.

When Harry was done and feeling very weak, Hermione made the bag disappear with one flick of her wand and the three sat on the floor of the train silently, each not knowing what to say.

Finally, Ron spoke up.

"You feeling any better?"

"A bit." Harry said, nodding and heaving himself up onto the wooden seat where he'd originally been sitting before the fitful dream.

"Here, drink some water." Hermione said softly, handing him a plastic cup. "You want to tell us about your dream?"

Harry took his time sipping the water and then set the cup down when it was empty. He knew it hadn't really been a dream... more like a memory that he'd relived.

"It was just about... Voldemort." he whispered almost inaudibly a few moments later. "I remembered that night."

Hermione's eye flickered with sympathy and she layed one hand on his shoulder, patting it comfortingly and then taking a deep breath.

"Harry- we know you've been through so much... and I wish there was something we could do to make it better for you..." she looked at Ron and Ron nodded in agreement.

"Listen, Harry. If you ever want to talk about... anything, we'll be here. We're your best friends."

Harry sighed and let a small smile escape his lips.

"Thanks, but I'll be okay."

There was another silence and it seemed as if Hermione and Ron expected him to spill out all his thoughts now, but for some reason, Harry didn't want to talk about it at all. In fact, he didn't feel like talking, period. He needed some alone time to collect his thoughts and to regain his sanity.

"So er-" Ron started, smiling cheerfully. "Want to talk about the birds you saw this summer?"

"Oh, why thank you Ronald. I'll just be a bit left out now and go bury my nose in a book while you two discuss matters of utmost unimportance." Hermione said in a hurt tone, getting up. "Don't mind me."

Ron shrugged.

"You go do that 'Mione. Merlin knows you need loads more reading then I do." with that, he turned to Harry and then grinned. "So, seen any this summer?"

Harry shook his head and tried to look interested.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. Mum wouldn't let any of us out of the house cuz she suspected that me and Ginny had something to do with Fred and George's exploding fireworks on the first day back. She punished us and made us clean the whole house the muggle way! A nightmare I tell you. Even worse then polishing that medal of Tom Riddle's."

At the mention of the name, Harry gritted his teeth irritably and exhaled.

"You sure you're okay?" Ron inquired worriedly, seeing the look on Harry's face.

No, I'm not. He wanted to snap but refrained from it just in time.

"I'm fine. Still feeling a bit out of it."

"The dinner'll be sure to cheer you up, mate." Ron reassured, licking his lips. "I'm starving."

The last thing that Harry wanted to think about right now was food. But with Ron, food always seemed to be the only thing on his mind. Perhaps that was why he was so annoyingly tall. Ron couldn't be an inch below six feet and he easily towered over most people when it came to walking in a crowd. Harry, on the other hand, wasn't having much luck in the growth deparment. He inwardly blamed his Aunt and Uncle for this handicap but like there was anything he could do about it now. He'd only grown an inch during the summer and was now a measly five- eight. Thinking about his physical appearance was definately not cheering, that was for sure. There were very very few things he liked about himself.

Stretching out his legs, he stood up and motioned toward the door.

"I'm going to go to the loo for a sec. I'll be right back."

He dragged his heavy feet out of the compartment and made his way down the swaying corridor to the end of the train where the closest loo was located. Reaching the door, he reached out a hand before noticing that the 'occupied' slide was visible and so with a sigh, leaned back into the wall to wait.

A few seconds later, there was a loud click and the toilet door opened.

Without looking up, he walked foward and past the figure exiting the narrow opening in front of the loo but then halted when he caught a glimpse of a slim and pale hand protruding from the sleeve of the Hogwarts school robes that the other was adorning. It was the same hand he'd seen in Flourish and Blott's which had to mean...

He quickly whirled around and came face to face with Malfoy who was obviously trying to sidle past him as hastily as he could.

"Malfoy." Harry said before he could stop himself.

It took a second until Malfoy lifted his head to meet Harry's muddled gaze. The coldness in the silver pools sent shivers up and down Harry's spine and he cleared his throat nervously.

"Potter." Malfoy said, their eye contact unbroken. "What do you want?"

The tone of voice and the narrowed eyes were so full of hatred that Harry's mind was suddenly lost for words. He couldn't even think of a proper insult to throw back at the blonde, which made him feel very vulnerable and stupid.

"Nothing." he managed to spit back somewhat cooly, but instead of continuing onto the loo, he stood their staring at Malfoy with pursed lips.

Malfoy's eyes flashed sharply and then, with a frown, he swept off back up the train and disappeared into a compartment a few doors ahead.

When Malfoy was completely out of sight, Harry felt even more confused then he was before. He supposed that Malfoy's hatred toward him was normal. After all, they'd both loathed each other since day one of Hogwarts. But something was different about the hatred. Much different then in the previous years.

Before, he knew that it had been a competitive type of hatred toward each other. Everything was a competition and neither wanted to back down. But now... the look in Malfoy's eyes had been so intense and so fierce that Harry couldn't help but be taken aback just a little. It seemed to be so much more than just an anger toward him about being better than Malfoy at Quidditch.

What was it?

Harry wanted to know. Wanted to know badly.

TBC...
Reviews will be immensly appreciated!!! Thank you!

silverXserpent