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Chapter Two

"Did little Potty enjoy his nap?"

"Whaa…?" As Harry's eyes opened everything snapped into focus. The class was seconds away from being over, and the students were hurrying to get out of the dingy dungeon.

"You heard what I said. I said did little Potty enjoy his nappy?"

It was none other than Malfoy, trying his best to get a rise out of Harry. "Yeah...thanks for asking. I did." Rubbing his eyes, Harry excused himself and went to go turn in the potion that Hermonie had completed to Snape's desk. When he returned, no one was in the room. It was only him and the picture that lay on the desk, begging to be looked at.

Harry picked up the abandoned picture. Looking at it with disgust, he carried it towards the Gryffindor Common Room. He was going to have a word with Ron; he wouldn't let this ruin their friendship. Besides, he knew what Ron was upset about. He was upset that Harry was 'always' in the center of attention, and Ron was 'always' pushed into the crowd of screaming girls that surrounded Harry after a successful game of Quidditch.

After hurriedly saying the secret word to the Fat Lady, Harry stormed into the Common Room. He had his speech ready to hurl at his friend; he wanted to make him understand that he was sorry and that he didn't want them to act like this. As soon as he spotted Ron in the Common Room, his mouth went dry, and the words died on his tongue. Harry was brave enough to fight deadly creatures of all sorts, but he wasn't brave enough to confront his best friend. 'I'm pathetic.' He thought sadly, and dragged his feet towards a chair that lay next to Hermonie.

"Hey 'Monie."

"Hi Harry! I think we did well on that potion, I hope it makes up for the lost points." She offered him an optimistic smile.

Relieved to see that one of his friends wasn't angry with him, he smiled back. It was a bright and sincere smile.

"Harry!" Ginny's high voice traveled through the Gryfffindor Common Room. As she approached him, he turned his smile down a notch.

"Hello Ginny, how was class?" Patting the couch next to him, he invited her to sit down.

"It was quite confusing, thanks for asking." She rolled her eyes. "I hate having to chart the progress of the planets. We already have homework and it is only the fourth bloody day of schooling!"

Harry laughed sympathetically. He remembered when he had that class, he too had hated figuring out what was going to happen to him when this moon was aligned with that star.

"No Ron, I haven't seen your drawing." It was Hermonie's voice, and she sounded exasperated. "I'm trying to study. Ask Harry, I'm sure he knows where it is."

"Harry?"

"What Ron?"

"Have you seen my picture?"

Glancing up from Ginny, his eyes darted from Ron to Hermonie and back again. Turning back to Ron, he spoke. His voice started off softly, but then grew louder and louder as he went on. Ginny was momentarily forgotten. "Yes I have your picture, and I don't like looking at things that have me dying on them. Do you think I get all the attention? Is this what this picture means? Just because I'm a better quidditch player than you doesn't mean you can draw pictures of me burning up. Look at this, it's pathetic. Don't you think that I get tired of it sometimes? Sometimes I wish I were as normal and boring as you are. You and Hermonie have it easy, people don't recognize you, you don't have people after you that want to kill you." He shut up and sighed, knowing he had said too much. "Look, here's your picture." Taking the crumpled picture out of his pocket, he threw it at Ron. "Now go sulk in your corner." It came out bitterly, and he was immediately sorry, though he made no move to say so.

Hermonie rose from her chair, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. "How dare you say that I'm boring! You have no idea how hard it is to stand behind you all the time. I'm never recognized for anything! All I'm known as is "Harry's friend." She glared at him, turned on her heel, and fled into the girl's dormitory.

Not wanting to wait for Ron's angry retorts, he stood up and stomped to his own dormitory. After he had conquered the many stairs, he collapsed on his bed, his fists punching at his downy pillow.