Warning: Violence, language, sex, yadda yadda yadda
A/N: I'm currently typing this from my prison cell. * pout * Why didn't anyone tell me that's what a restraining order means??? I still own nothing.
Summary: Having thoroughly screwed around with Olivia Montgomery's head, Harry was ready to take on a bigger and better challenge. Unfortunately, that same challenge * cough MALFOY cough * had other plans. In a word, revenge.
Side note: Please don't hate me for taking so long to update!
~*~
~Flashback~
'Look at him. Carrying on in that asinine manner - completely oblivious.' He sneered. 'The foolish git won't even see it coming.'
Draco Malfoy studied his prey like a hawk preparing to strike, aware that at any time his chance may be lost. His thin fingers lazily traced over his wand, which was now securely hidden beneath the table, strategically placed between his legs.
His gaze was resolute - unfaltering. Regardless of how many students walked into his view, he stayed focused. Determined to have his vengeance. Draco watched, and waited.
Harry Potter, who sat across the room at the Gryffindor table, was laughing. Always laughing, in Draco's mind, at him. "Keep laughing, Potter. That's it. Laugh till your sides hurt.' Draco's brow creased. 'Soon, it won't be laughter that causes you to cramp up.' A fire erupted behind Draco's eyes.
'It will be me.'
Not breaking eye contact with Harry for more than a second, Draco nodded to Crabe and Goyle, who were tactically positioned in front of him. Taking their cue, each scooted over a couple of inches, leaving Malfoy a clear path.
'No one makes a fool of me.'
He took aim.
'No one.'
After what seemed like an eternity, Draco inhaled - remembering the words he had studied earlier in the day. And in one smooth breath, exhaled the curse.
"Pavidus Adflictatio"
In one swift movement, all the hate and pint up fury left his body through his right arm, and was transferred into his wand - which in turn shot out into the Great Hall, aimed directly at Harry.
And as quickly as his fury had left him, a surge of exhilaration began to flow through his body. All he had to do now was watch. Watch, and wait.
Seconds after Draco had cast the curse, Harry's face began to contort in, what looked to be, agonizing pain. Draco smiled, his eyes never leaving Harry's. He was obviously confused - trying to see if somehow the Dark Lord had found his way into Hogwarts.
'Keep looking, Potter. No - no - ah, yes, THERE.'
Their gazes met, and locked. Draco held him there in sick fascination, his stomach in knots, waiting for the moment of recognition. And there it was. Harry's eyes focused long enough to understand who had done this too him.
Draco sneered.
It was only after Harry had slumped onto the floor, unconscious, that Draco began to blink again. The knots inside his stomach undid themselves, and his pulse returned to it's normal pace. His power trip was over. Absentmindedly, Draco glanced at his watch.
6:46
~*~
~Infirmary ~ Present time ~
"Harry! Harry? Can you hear me?"
"If he was going to wake up due to your shouting in his ear, he would've 2 hours ago."
~Silence~
"Well - no harm in trying!"
"Uugh."
Frustrated, Hermione sat down on the bed next to Ron, both of them fixed on their unconscious friend. It had been almost four hours since Harry passed out, and there was still no sign as to why.
"You don't suppose it was, um, you-know-who, do you?" Ron's voice had gone quiet, his eyes slightly bugging out as he said the name.
"No." She shook her head softly. "I don't think so. He can't get to Harry while he's at Hogwarts, remember?"
"Right. Right, I'd forgotten that." Hermione always was the voice of reason. "So, who then?"
"I'd bet my life's savings that Malfoy had something to do with it." Hermione's look was severe.
"When does Malfoy NOT have something to do with it?" Ron hit the bed in frustration, his knuckles white from the pressure. "If I find out he did this-"
"I know, Ron. I know." Hermione managed a smile. "We'll get him."
Silent minutes passed, neither one knowing what to say. It was starting to get late, but neither Ron nor Hermione felt much like sleeping; they would stay by his side all night if they had to. Suddenly, Ron remembered the dream, and his ears went red. He had wanted to talk to Hermione, but now hardly seemed the appropriate time. Not that Harry was conscious enough to hear, but the thought nagged at him - Another three minutes passed before Ron finally spoke up.
"Mione?"
"Yes, Ron?"
"I - I think I need your help in something." Still gawking at the floor, Ron was only half-aware that he was speaking.
"Sure. What about?"
~Silence~
"Ron?"
Biting his lip, Ron began. "I've been having these, these dreams-" But his attempted confessional was interrupted by a groan.
"Uuuhn."
"What?" A hurt Ron turned to Hermione. What sort of a response was that?
"That wasn't me, Ron, it was Harry!" Hermione was beaming.
Still dazed, but not in any more pain, Harry started to get up. Rather, he tried to get up, but was promptly shoved back down again by his two friends. "Don't you move! We still don't know what happened to you." Hermione's voice was stern. Madam Pompfrey smiled from across the room. That young woman would make a fine medi-witch some day.
"All right there, Harry?" Ron secretly hoped he hadn't heard everything. "Do you remember anything?"
Harry's mind was racing. All he could remember was pain. That horrible, searing pain.
"I, I remember-" Harry closed his eyes and thought back, trying to relive what happened. "My scar. My scar started hurting. And then-" There was something else. Someone else there - someone looking at him. Charcoal gray eyes flashed in his mind, and instantly the memories came flooding back to him. Malfoy.
Hermione was on the edge of the bed, about ready to fall off. "And then?"
Harry tried to disregard the bile that had been collecting in his mouth and shook his head. They didn't need to know who was responsible. Not that he could prove it, anyway. "Nothing. Nothing after that."
Ron let out a disappointed sigh and slumped back onto the bed; Hermione joined him. There was a collective moment of silence before Madam Pompfrey made her way over to them.
"Good to see you've awakened, Mr. Potter. How are you feeling?" She handed him a piece of chocolate.
"I'm fine. Better now, thanks." Harry gratefully took the chocolate and started munching.
"You said your scar hurt, did you not?" She had moved his hair away from his scar, tentatively tracing the outline with her finger. Harry flinched, causing her to drop her hand. "I'll have to inform Headmaster Dumbledore immediately."
"No, that's not necessary." Harry looked around at his friends to back him up, but they were just as uncompromising as Madam Pompfrey. They all knew he hated the attention his scar brought him, but every time it's hurt in the past has been a warning. If you-know-who was planning something, Dumbledore ought to know about it.
"Yes, Mr. Potter, it is." Madam Pompfrey gave him one of those "don't argue with me" looks.
Frustrated, and not wanting to have to explain the story over and over again, Harry tried to reason with her. "It wasn't Voldemort." Everyone except Harry cringed at the name. "Sorry, but it wasn't. I know what he feels like; rather, what he makes my scar feel like. This wasn't him."
"Then who was it?" Ron finally spoke up.
"I don't know." He lied. "Someone pulling a prank or something. It doesn't really matter anyway, I'm fine." Harry managed a weak smile. "You don't need to get Dumbledore."
Madam Pompfrey looked him over, not quite convinced. "I won't bring the headmaster into this, BUT I'll need to keep you under constant supervision. You will be spending the night here tonight. And if I see ANYTHING out of the ordinary, anything a' tall, Dumbledore will be contacted immediately." Harry could tell this was the best offer he was going to get from her. "Deal?"
"Deal." Harry grinned, and the serious cloud that had been hanging over the lot of them finally lifted. Satisfied, Madam Pompfrey went back into her office, leaving the trio to chat amongst themselves.
"That was quite a tumble you took there, mate." Ron smiled at him. "Thought we'd lost you to Hogwart's cooking."
Both Harry and Hermione let out a loud laugh.
~*~
Back in the Slytherin Common Room, Draco Malfoy was doing a dance of joy. His senses were alive: the air smelt better, the roaring fire felt hotter, and a sense of peace had settled nicely in his belly. He hadn't felt this good in ages. Even Crabe and Goyle's ramblings were significantly less annoying.
"You really got him, huh Draco?" Goyle smirked as he sat on the black leather couch, Crabe imitating his look on the other end.
Draco casually strolled up to the fireplace and leaned up against it, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Got whom?"
Confused, Crabe looked at Goyle. "Potter."
Continuing the innocent act, Draco smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done a thing to him."
Finally catching on, Goyle smirked. "Riiiiiight."
A moment of silence passed before the trio erupted in hoots and laughter.
"Did you see his face right before he passed out??" "What an ass." "He deserved it."
Draco couldn't help but be pleased with himself. Not only had he gotten his revenge on Potter, but also, no one could prove it was him. The only other person who knew besides Crabe and Goyle was Harry, and he was probably still unconscious. A sly smile spread across his pale face, 'No one fucks with Draco Malfoy.'
The evening wore on as the three continued to insult Harry, Weasel and his mudblood girlfriend, Granger. The slur-fest continued into the night, and Draco soon found himself bored with the topic. Unfortunately, politics and religion were a far cry from common discussion topics with Crabe and Goyle. Stupidity was the price he paid for companionship, it would seem. Draco waved his goodnights and headed to his room, leaving his compatriots snickering in the firelight.
His bed felt cool beneath him as Draco lay down to sleep. His head had been on the pillow for only a moment when his thoughts, again, returned to Potter. Ever since he had met him, Draco had hated Harry - though he had never quite been able to put his finger on why. He would tell himself that Potter was a brainless git who deserved whatever torture he brought upon himself, but there was more to it than that. There always is.
Draco's deep-seeded hatred of Harry Potter went beyond his stupidity. It went beyond the envy that Hermione was convinced Draco felt for Harry. No, it went far beyond any conspiracy theory that many of the students at Hogwarts suspected. If anyone had actually sat down and thought about it, the answer was obvious:
Rejection.
It wasn't as though Draco didn't already know the answer; he just didn't allow himself to admit to it. To become so upset over something so insignificant would be a sign of weakness. And Draco Malfoy wasn't weak. If there was anything his father had successfully drilled into his young mind, that was it. A weak Malfoy is a dead Malfoy.
Draco turned over and tried to stop thinking about it. Instead, his thoughts turned to Harry, whom he assumed was still in the Hospital wing. A devilish grin spread across his face.
'Who's the weak one now, Potter?'
~*~
Harry's eyes were drooping as he said his goodnights to his friends.
"We'll come back in the morning, Harry." Hermione hugged him fiercely around the neck. "Sleep tight."
"Ack - thanks 'Mione." Harry choked.
"Yeah, don't fall out the bed tonight." Ron was grinning. "Don't need a repeat performance of dinner."
'You're one to talk.' Harry silently laughed at his friend. "Wanker."
Finally, the hospital wing was empty, and Harry was alone with his thoughts. He reached over and felt around the inside of his robe's pockets. Smiling as he found what he was looking for, Harry pulled out the amulet.
Holding it over his head, Harry let it spin - momentarily captivated by the reflections it made in the moonlight. It really was beautiful. Not only in form, but also in the power that it held for Harry. A smile traced his lips as he watched the blue orb levitate within its cage.
'Ready for another venture?' Harry's smile turned wicked as he thought of Malfoy. Oh, that boy had picked the wrong wizard to fuck with. If any part of Harry had previously held reservations about messing around with Malfoy's head, it was dead now. It died the second Harry's eyes locked with Malfoy's in the Great Hall. There was hell to pay.
Without another thought, Harry slipped the amulet around his neck and laid down. It was cool on his chest, centering his thoughts on Malfoy.
~Swirling~
11:23
~Swirling~
'This is going to be fun.'
~Darkness~
~*~
Allright! Any thoughts, ideas, criticisms? Let me know! Please review!
A/N: I'm currently typing this from my prison cell. * pout * Why didn't anyone tell me that's what a restraining order means??? I still own nothing.
Summary: Having thoroughly screwed around with Olivia Montgomery's head, Harry was ready to take on a bigger and better challenge. Unfortunately, that same challenge * cough MALFOY cough * had other plans. In a word, revenge.
Side note: Please don't hate me for taking so long to update!
~*~
~Flashback~
'Look at him. Carrying on in that asinine manner - completely oblivious.' He sneered. 'The foolish git won't even see it coming.'
Draco Malfoy studied his prey like a hawk preparing to strike, aware that at any time his chance may be lost. His thin fingers lazily traced over his wand, which was now securely hidden beneath the table, strategically placed between his legs.
His gaze was resolute - unfaltering. Regardless of how many students walked into his view, he stayed focused. Determined to have his vengeance. Draco watched, and waited.
Harry Potter, who sat across the room at the Gryffindor table, was laughing. Always laughing, in Draco's mind, at him. "Keep laughing, Potter. That's it. Laugh till your sides hurt.' Draco's brow creased. 'Soon, it won't be laughter that causes you to cramp up.' A fire erupted behind Draco's eyes.
'It will be me.'
Not breaking eye contact with Harry for more than a second, Draco nodded to Crabe and Goyle, who were tactically positioned in front of him. Taking their cue, each scooted over a couple of inches, leaving Malfoy a clear path.
'No one makes a fool of me.'
He took aim.
'No one.'
After what seemed like an eternity, Draco inhaled - remembering the words he had studied earlier in the day. And in one smooth breath, exhaled the curse.
"Pavidus Adflictatio"
In one swift movement, all the hate and pint up fury left his body through his right arm, and was transferred into his wand - which in turn shot out into the Great Hall, aimed directly at Harry.
And as quickly as his fury had left him, a surge of exhilaration began to flow through his body. All he had to do now was watch. Watch, and wait.
Seconds after Draco had cast the curse, Harry's face began to contort in, what looked to be, agonizing pain. Draco smiled, his eyes never leaving Harry's. He was obviously confused - trying to see if somehow the Dark Lord had found his way into Hogwarts.
'Keep looking, Potter. No - no - ah, yes, THERE.'
Their gazes met, and locked. Draco held him there in sick fascination, his stomach in knots, waiting for the moment of recognition. And there it was. Harry's eyes focused long enough to understand who had done this too him.
Draco sneered.
It was only after Harry had slumped onto the floor, unconscious, that Draco began to blink again. The knots inside his stomach undid themselves, and his pulse returned to it's normal pace. His power trip was over. Absentmindedly, Draco glanced at his watch.
6:46
~*~
~Infirmary ~ Present time ~
"Harry! Harry? Can you hear me?"
"If he was going to wake up due to your shouting in his ear, he would've 2 hours ago."
~Silence~
"Well - no harm in trying!"
"Uugh."
Frustrated, Hermione sat down on the bed next to Ron, both of them fixed on their unconscious friend. It had been almost four hours since Harry passed out, and there was still no sign as to why.
"You don't suppose it was, um, you-know-who, do you?" Ron's voice had gone quiet, his eyes slightly bugging out as he said the name.
"No." She shook her head softly. "I don't think so. He can't get to Harry while he's at Hogwarts, remember?"
"Right. Right, I'd forgotten that." Hermione always was the voice of reason. "So, who then?"
"I'd bet my life's savings that Malfoy had something to do with it." Hermione's look was severe.
"When does Malfoy NOT have something to do with it?" Ron hit the bed in frustration, his knuckles white from the pressure. "If I find out he did this-"
"I know, Ron. I know." Hermione managed a smile. "We'll get him."
Silent minutes passed, neither one knowing what to say. It was starting to get late, but neither Ron nor Hermione felt much like sleeping; they would stay by his side all night if they had to. Suddenly, Ron remembered the dream, and his ears went red. He had wanted to talk to Hermione, but now hardly seemed the appropriate time. Not that Harry was conscious enough to hear, but the thought nagged at him - Another three minutes passed before Ron finally spoke up.
"Mione?"
"Yes, Ron?"
"I - I think I need your help in something." Still gawking at the floor, Ron was only half-aware that he was speaking.
"Sure. What about?"
~Silence~
"Ron?"
Biting his lip, Ron began. "I've been having these, these dreams-" But his attempted confessional was interrupted by a groan.
"Uuuhn."
"What?" A hurt Ron turned to Hermione. What sort of a response was that?
"That wasn't me, Ron, it was Harry!" Hermione was beaming.
Still dazed, but not in any more pain, Harry started to get up. Rather, he tried to get up, but was promptly shoved back down again by his two friends. "Don't you move! We still don't know what happened to you." Hermione's voice was stern. Madam Pompfrey smiled from across the room. That young woman would make a fine medi-witch some day.
"All right there, Harry?" Ron secretly hoped he hadn't heard everything. "Do you remember anything?"
Harry's mind was racing. All he could remember was pain. That horrible, searing pain.
"I, I remember-" Harry closed his eyes and thought back, trying to relive what happened. "My scar. My scar started hurting. And then-" There was something else. Someone else there - someone looking at him. Charcoal gray eyes flashed in his mind, and instantly the memories came flooding back to him. Malfoy.
Hermione was on the edge of the bed, about ready to fall off. "And then?"
Harry tried to disregard the bile that had been collecting in his mouth and shook his head. They didn't need to know who was responsible. Not that he could prove it, anyway. "Nothing. Nothing after that."
Ron let out a disappointed sigh and slumped back onto the bed; Hermione joined him. There was a collective moment of silence before Madam Pompfrey made her way over to them.
"Good to see you've awakened, Mr. Potter. How are you feeling?" She handed him a piece of chocolate.
"I'm fine. Better now, thanks." Harry gratefully took the chocolate and started munching.
"You said your scar hurt, did you not?" She had moved his hair away from his scar, tentatively tracing the outline with her finger. Harry flinched, causing her to drop her hand. "I'll have to inform Headmaster Dumbledore immediately."
"No, that's not necessary." Harry looked around at his friends to back him up, but they were just as uncompromising as Madam Pompfrey. They all knew he hated the attention his scar brought him, but every time it's hurt in the past has been a warning. If you-know-who was planning something, Dumbledore ought to know about it.
"Yes, Mr. Potter, it is." Madam Pompfrey gave him one of those "don't argue with me" looks.
Frustrated, and not wanting to have to explain the story over and over again, Harry tried to reason with her. "It wasn't Voldemort." Everyone except Harry cringed at the name. "Sorry, but it wasn't. I know what he feels like; rather, what he makes my scar feel like. This wasn't him."
"Then who was it?" Ron finally spoke up.
"I don't know." He lied. "Someone pulling a prank or something. It doesn't really matter anyway, I'm fine." Harry managed a weak smile. "You don't need to get Dumbledore."
Madam Pompfrey looked him over, not quite convinced. "I won't bring the headmaster into this, BUT I'll need to keep you under constant supervision. You will be spending the night here tonight. And if I see ANYTHING out of the ordinary, anything a' tall, Dumbledore will be contacted immediately." Harry could tell this was the best offer he was going to get from her. "Deal?"
"Deal." Harry grinned, and the serious cloud that had been hanging over the lot of them finally lifted. Satisfied, Madam Pompfrey went back into her office, leaving the trio to chat amongst themselves.
"That was quite a tumble you took there, mate." Ron smiled at him. "Thought we'd lost you to Hogwart's cooking."
Both Harry and Hermione let out a loud laugh.
~*~
Back in the Slytherin Common Room, Draco Malfoy was doing a dance of joy. His senses were alive: the air smelt better, the roaring fire felt hotter, and a sense of peace had settled nicely in his belly. He hadn't felt this good in ages. Even Crabe and Goyle's ramblings were significantly less annoying.
"You really got him, huh Draco?" Goyle smirked as he sat on the black leather couch, Crabe imitating his look on the other end.
Draco casually strolled up to the fireplace and leaned up against it, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Got whom?"
Confused, Crabe looked at Goyle. "Potter."
Continuing the innocent act, Draco smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done a thing to him."
Finally catching on, Goyle smirked. "Riiiiiight."
A moment of silence passed before the trio erupted in hoots and laughter.
"Did you see his face right before he passed out??" "What an ass." "He deserved it."
Draco couldn't help but be pleased with himself. Not only had he gotten his revenge on Potter, but also, no one could prove it was him. The only other person who knew besides Crabe and Goyle was Harry, and he was probably still unconscious. A sly smile spread across his pale face, 'No one fucks with Draco Malfoy.'
The evening wore on as the three continued to insult Harry, Weasel and his mudblood girlfriend, Granger. The slur-fest continued into the night, and Draco soon found himself bored with the topic. Unfortunately, politics and religion were a far cry from common discussion topics with Crabe and Goyle. Stupidity was the price he paid for companionship, it would seem. Draco waved his goodnights and headed to his room, leaving his compatriots snickering in the firelight.
His bed felt cool beneath him as Draco lay down to sleep. His head had been on the pillow for only a moment when his thoughts, again, returned to Potter. Ever since he had met him, Draco had hated Harry - though he had never quite been able to put his finger on why. He would tell himself that Potter was a brainless git who deserved whatever torture he brought upon himself, but there was more to it than that. There always is.
Draco's deep-seeded hatred of Harry Potter went beyond his stupidity. It went beyond the envy that Hermione was convinced Draco felt for Harry. No, it went far beyond any conspiracy theory that many of the students at Hogwarts suspected. If anyone had actually sat down and thought about it, the answer was obvious:
Rejection.
It wasn't as though Draco didn't already know the answer; he just didn't allow himself to admit to it. To become so upset over something so insignificant would be a sign of weakness. And Draco Malfoy wasn't weak. If there was anything his father had successfully drilled into his young mind, that was it. A weak Malfoy is a dead Malfoy.
Draco turned over and tried to stop thinking about it. Instead, his thoughts turned to Harry, whom he assumed was still in the Hospital wing. A devilish grin spread across his face.
'Who's the weak one now, Potter?'
~*~
Harry's eyes were drooping as he said his goodnights to his friends.
"We'll come back in the morning, Harry." Hermione hugged him fiercely around the neck. "Sleep tight."
"Ack - thanks 'Mione." Harry choked.
"Yeah, don't fall out the bed tonight." Ron was grinning. "Don't need a repeat performance of dinner."
'You're one to talk.' Harry silently laughed at his friend. "Wanker."
Finally, the hospital wing was empty, and Harry was alone with his thoughts. He reached over and felt around the inside of his robe's pockets. Smiling as he found what he was looking for, Harry pulled out the amulet.
Holding it over his head, Harry let it spin - momentarily captivated by the reflections it made in the moonlight. It really was beautiful. Not only in form, but also in the power that it held for Harry. A smile traced his lips as he watched the blue orb levitate within its cage.
'Ready for another venture?' Harry's smile turned wicked as he thought of Malfoy. Oh, that boy had picked the wrong wizard to fuck with. If any part of Harry had previously held reservations about messing around with Malfoy's head, it was dead now. It died the second Harry's eyes locked with Malfoy's in the Great Hall. There was hell to pay.
Without another thought, Harry slipped the amulet around his neck and laid down. It was cool on his chest, centering his thoughts on Malfoy.
~Swirling~
11:23
~Swirling~
'This is going to be fun.'
~Darkness~
~*~
Allright! Any thoughts, ideas, criticisms? Let me know! Please review!