For the love of God… I can't even begin to EXPLAIN the events that occurred in D.C. It was major TEEN DRAMA. The stuff that happened should've been made into a T.V. show… Instead of having The O.C. it should be… The D.C. (even though that makes NO sense whatsoever). I never thought my trip would've turned out this way… I hate it, I hate it, I love it, I hate it…
Anyway, I hope you guys continue reading my story despite the events in the last chapter…
And so it begins…
Harry woke up and found himself staring at an empty ceiling. He was in the infirmary. The last thing he remembered was blacking out in Dumbledore's office after hearing about…
He winced. His head began to throb. He wanted to die…
Harry almost felt angry towards Draco. How could he? How could Draco die and just leave him all alone? Stupid Slytherin, always bragging about how cunning and crafty he was, only to die in the end!
Stupid… Idiotic… Slytherin.
Harry hated him.
Hated him…
Hated loving him…
His scar began to burn violently. His head felt as if it was going to split in two. This brutal pain mixed in with wretched sorrow and rage was more than what Harry could handle. He turned and vomited over the side of the bed.
Madame Pomfrey rushed in and made a scene. She bustled over him, taking his temperature countless times and forcing some food on him. When she finally did leave (which wasn't for a long time), Harry was able to settle back into his bed. No… there was absolutely no comfort in the large pillows or in the warm blankets. In fact, Harry felt as if he were lying down on jagged rocks.
His mind was in shambles, he wasn't even aware of rising from his bed and walking out of the infirmary. Barefoot, he sauntered along the hallways and into the green field. He watched the giant squid glide across the water for a few minutes and then he headed towards Hagrid's hut. But Hagrid wasn't home. So he turned and walked back to the school.
He wandered the halls aimlessly, not knowing or caring to where he was going. He felt hollow. Empty. As if he were only a body without a soul. Maybe he, himself had died without knowing it. Died of what? A broken heart? Yes, a broken heart. Yes, yes that was the only explanation. Draco's departure resulted in this. Resulted in Harry's maybe-death and now the Gryffindor boy was probable to wander the halls of Hogwarts as a grief-stricken ghost.
Draco would've laughed at this. Would've laughed at Harry's thoughts. Would've probably said, "Grow up, Potter. A ghost, indeed! You're crazy and out of your mind…"
Harry wanted to chuckle at the thought of Draco teasing him. But how could a chuckle come about when he couldn't even muster a smile? Smiles were a thing of the past now. With Draco gone… no more smiles… not even for Ron or Hermione. No more Draco. No more smiles. No more love… no more…
The wandering boy found himself walking down vaguely familiar corridors. Where exactly has his numb and unfeeling legs taken him? He made several twists and turns, again, not knowing or caring about the site of his unknown destination. Nothing mattered anymore.
He suddenly came to an abrupt stop. How did he arrive here? Had he memorized the directions in the back of his mind?
Harry found himself standing directly in front of the Room. He felt a sharp pang in his chest. Standing there made the memories flood back, hitting him like a colossal tidal wave. He didn't know what to do… he didn't know where to turn. Everywhere he looked reminded him of Draco. But now Draco was dead… gone… dead… Draco was dead.
He repeated the words slowly in his mind. Draco is gone…As if he wanted to purge himself of this sorrow. But his attempt was futile. Draco remained in his mind's eye. Draco refused to leave. Draco was stubborn.
Harry pressed his cheek against the cold marble, trying to memorize the feel and texture. Maybe hoping to find a trace of his lost lover. He was trying to remember him. Trying to forget him. Trying to remember him…
Harry almost gasped as the large door budged open a bit. He thought it strange that this Room would be left open like this. He had almost thought of closing it and walking away, but curiosity got the best of him as he pushed the door further open and stepped in.
The Room looked the same as the day when they left it. It remained large, beautiful, and seemingly untouched. But something felt different. The fire was dancing brightly and the atmosphere was tense and… exciting.
"Came back to where it all started, did you?" a voice came from one of the chairs.
Harry's heart leapt in his throat. He knew that voice. "How…?" he whispered.
A small chuckle reached his ears, "I'm cunning. I'm a Slytherin, remember? I know how to cheat death…"
A figure rose from the chair in front of the fireplace. Harry staggered backwards as his green eyes clashed with beautiful tired gray…
"Hello Harry," Draco Malfoy smiled wearily at him. "Missed me, much?"
