A/N: I'm very happy with the reviews I got. Reviews Happiness wanting to write. I just realized the irony in the fact that in my last note I mentioned that I'm claustrophobic about deadlines. One of the pieces I'm working on in newspaper is Phobias. You wouldn't believe the wacky phobias out there. Okay, back to my story!

Nightwing 509- Thank you, I'm glad you like my new character.

Mitchell – Once again, you've got me smiling. I'd kiss you if I could, lol. I even went back to read your review a couple more times when my day started going downhill.

Jake Paul- Thanks, see I updated very soon.

Alethianess- You noticed that too? I was going through my last chapter after I'd posted it and my jaw dropped when I saw that. I was thinking, how did that get there?! My mind said clothes but my fingers said otherwise. Believe me though, there's now a dent in my wall where I was pounding my head in my stupidity and I went back and changed that.

Red Jeanie- Thanks. Mystery, really? I can write mysteriously, yes!

ForeverTom- Thank goodness, I thought I'd at least get a few virtual tomatoes thrown at me if not killed for making people wait. Of course, I'm actually not making them wait that long for this chapter, which surprised me.

Me- Thanks for your enthusiastic review! Made me smile.

DeadZoneFern- Thanks for the suggestion. I was unsure about that myself actually.

"The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else" (Umberto Eco).

Chapter 5

It had in fact, been a VERY long day. The only thing that kept Harry going was the thoughts running through his brain, which were in turn driving him insane. He just needed some way to communicate with another wizard or witch, preferably his friends. First the silver-eyed animal shows up and now he had a broken bed in his room that Clark wasn't telling the truth about.

That made Harry's thoughts pause.

Were they connected some how? No, that was silly. Clark was just a normal teen muggle… wasn't he?

Harry cursed his thoughts for doing this to him. Now he had another thing to keep him confused and frustrated. He was definitely going to go insane soon if he couldn't get away for awhile.

"Harry, get back to work with those plants!" Harry blinked, his eyes focusing onto the ground in front of him. He had paused from working, he realized, when his thoughts had distracted him. When he looked behind him he saw Aunt Petunia at the back door with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

"Sorry Aunt Petunia!" She didn't reply, just went back into the house after giving him a sharp look. Harry sighed and stooped to pick up the hose that had fallen from his hands. After this he'd have to go back inside and dust in the living room, which happened to be where Clark was currently.

Dudley had pulled him in there before the teen could protest to show him a few things from his school and to wait for his friends to come over. Harry felt great sympathy for him already. Being in a room with one thick-headed boy was enough, but now there was going to be four once Dudley's friends showed up. He was hoping he'd be able to avoid the idiots himself while they were over, but he'd done everything outside of the living room already and Aunt Petunia would box his ears if he didn't do all his chores before dinner.

Harry turned off the hose once he'd watered all the plants and coiled it back up. As he turned back to the house, his shoulders slouched in anxiousness at what would now face him. Dudley's friends were probably already there, and ready to do whatever they wanted to him.

Well, here goes nothing…, Harry thought as he walked towards the house, beginning to hear gruff laughter inside.

XXXXXXXXXX

Clark was trying to keep himself from pounding his head against a nearby wall as he sat in the middle of two younger teens, laughing at some joke Dudley told that wasn't really that funny. Mostly because it would probably leave more than just a dent in the wall, and also that he was trying to remain polite.

When Harry came in though, he felt like shouting for joy. He desperately needed an intelligent person to talk to after all the stupid, half-formed phrases he'd been surrounded by all day. Harry didn't look like he was in the mood for conversation though. He seemed to be trying to go unnoticed as much as possible as he went over to the fireplace with a dust rag in hand.

Unfortunately, Harry's attempts at invisibility were in vain since one of the many idiots in the room looked up. Clark had given up trying to remember their names long ago and had resorted to labeling them as Idiot 1, 2, and 3. This one was Idiot 2 and he had a very unpleasant smile on his lips; much like a bulldog's lopsided grin. This was not good.

"Hey, look. It's our favorite punching bag." This got the attention of everyone else in the room. Evil grins appeared on the two other idiots' faces and Dudley smiled also, though his grin was a bit nervous.

"Yeah, he's just dusting. Just ignore him." Idiot 2 didn't seem to want to do that though.

"Oh come on Dudley. Let's show Clark what's fun around here." This was Idiot 1 now. He stood up and was moving towards where Harry was.

"Beating up Harry isn't that fun. L-let's play some video games instead." Idiot 1 stopped and looked back at Dudley.

"What's the matter Dudley? Lost your nerve or something?" Dudley looked as if he wanted to say something, but refrained himself. The three boys chuckled and looked at Harry who was currently looking at them with worried eyes.

"How 'bout it Clark? Want to throw the first punch? It's really fun." Idiot 1 looked back at Clark with a sickly grin on his face still. Clark scowled though. Polite time was over.

"No."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry looked around Dudley's friend when he heard Clark reply. Clark's eyes seemed to have darkened in the few seconds he'd been in there. It was obvious he was angry, and Harry didn't know if this was a good thing or bad. Being the idiots his cousins' friends were though, they ignored what Clark said.

"Then I guess we'll have to have our own fun then." The boy already standing up advanced on Harry and he raised a fist up, planning on punching him right in the face. Harry was about ready to dodge with his Seeker-honed reflexes as the fist was coming down, but it stopped in midair.

The boy's beady eyes blinked in confusion as he starred stupidly at his own fist and then finally looked behind him. Harry looked too and saw an angry Clark holding onto the younger teen's arm.

"I said no."

"Bugger off, I'm trying to have some fun here!"

"You call this fun? I can't believe you'd do this to Harry." Clark's voice was starting to rise to a dangerous volume. This didn't seem to scare the boy, instead it annoyed him.

"Stay out of this before you get hurt, Yank!" A wince soon crossed over the boy's arrogant face though as Clark's grip tightened on his arm.

"I've lifted bales of hay bigger than you. Do you really think you could take me?"

"What's going on in here? Clark, Dudley, is everything all right?" Aunt Petunia stood at the entrance to the living room looking worried. She must have heard the shouts from the kitchen since she still had her apron on and an oven mitt on one of her hands. Dudley's friend pulled his arm and Clark released him, though it seemed he probably could have held him still. He muttered something under his breath and gestured to the two other boys in the room to follow him.

"We were just leaving. By Dudley, Clark." The three boys left, but not before glaring murderously at Clark who returned the glare with equal dislike. Dudley quickly left the room too, looking nervous as he scurried past Clark.

Harry was expecting Clark to calm down as soon as they all left but he didn't seem any more relaxed than he was before. In fact he was starting to sweat which was really strange considering the temperature in the room. He was turned away from Harry at the moment though, so he couldn't see his face.

"Clark, you all right?" Clark's shoulders shook and his hands went up to his eyes. Aunt Petunia rushed up to him and placed a hand on top of his shoulders while the other one checked the temperature of his forehead. Her eyes grew wide.

"He's burning up! Harry, call for an ambulance!"

"No," Clark's strained voice came from his now stooped figure, "I just need some air." He rushed out of the room and headed for the backyard. Harry followed close behind, worried about Clark's condition. What was wrong with him? He was fine a minute ago.

Clark stumbled towards the middle of the yard before he stopped, hands pressed to his temples.

"Clark, wha…" Harry stopped in mid-sentence as Aunt Petunia's favorite rose bush burst into flames right in front of Clark. He starred at it stupidly for a while before a thought registered in his brain. There was a fire, and he was just standing there like an idiot instead of putting it out. He hurried towards the hose he'd used earlier and turned the knob. Turning around, he hurried towards the burning plant and was about to dowse it with water when he halted.

It was hard to see through the flames, but there it was. Flames reflected in silver eyes, but nothing else was visible except shadows. Harry stared at the creature for a moment in confusion. Then, they were gone along with the flames on the bush. Harry continued staring at the now black bush before he finally pulled himself away to look at Clark.

Clark was staring at the bush with shock evident on his eyes. Harry also saw his gaze shifted a little towards where the creature had once been. He didn't look sick anymore and he wasn't holding his head like earlier; just staring.

"Er, Clark?" Clark jolted out of his thoughts and looked at Harry, his eyes wide and confused.

"Um, wh-what just happened?" He sounded tired as he rubbed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair.

"I thought maybe you could tell me."

"I don't know what happened." Clark quickly turned around and went back into the house, without another word. Harry stayed in the back yard though. He stared back at the bush and then at where Clark once stood. It didn't make any sense. Was it Clark or the animal that caused the fire? It seemed as if Clark didn't know what happened…

Maybe it's never happened before. The thought suddenly rose in his mind but for some reason it made sense. Didn't it?

Harry was going around in circles again, he knew it. He needed to slow down and think about this later. Right now he needed to make sure Clark was all right.

XXXXXXX

Clark was NOT all right. He'd rushed upstairs passing by a worried Mrs. Dursley as soon as he'd been shaken out of his first shock by Harry. He blindly went over to the window in his and Harry's room and stared without seeing out into the darkening sky outside. He didn't look down though, that was where the back yard was and the burnt bush.

He'd started that fire. He didn't even know how! One minute he was trying to cool down after that jerk tried to punch Harry and the next he felt like he was burning up. Now there was a burnt bush in the back yard, that thing with the silver eyes had shown up again and he had no way to explain it all; not even to himself! To add top it all, Harry saw everything and was probably even more suspicious than he was that morning. So much for keeping his secrets like he promised.

"Clark?" Clark didn't look around to see who it was. He could tell Harry was probably staring at him with confusion right now.

"I don't know what happened, Harry."

"I know that. I just wanted to see how you were doing." Clark finally turned around to look at Harry. He did look a little confused but there was sincere concern in his eyes. "And I just wanted to say…well, I'm here for you to er, talk to. I never offered you that yesterday when we were talking."

Clark felt the corners of his mouth twitch and a smile came unbidden to his face. He let it grow and he stepped towards Harry.

"Thanks Harry."

"No problem, it's the least I can do for you keeping that git off of me tonight." Clark nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, Idiot 1."

"What?"

"Oh," Clark looked at Harry sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. "I kind of forgot their names and just called them Idiot 1, 2, and 3." Harry burst into a fit of laughter and Clark found himself soon joining him.

"I should have thought of that years ago," Harry gasped finally when his laughs subsided. A knock came from the doorway behind them and both teens turned around to see Petunia Dursley peering into the room nervously.

"Is everything all right now, Clark? You rushed up here so fast. Is your fever gone?"

"I'm fine actually," then Clark suddenly remembered the burnt bush and guilt shown on his face. "Um, Mrs. Dursley I need to tell you about your rose bush…"

"My rose bush? Did you throw up dear, because that can always be rinsed off." Clark was really going to regret telling her this. He didn't even know how he was going to explain it.

"No, I…"

"I burnt your bush, Aunt Petunia."

XXXXXXX

"What?!"

"What?" Aunt Petunia was staring at Harry with rage filling her eyes and Clark was looking at him in sheer confusion. Harry didn't care though. He didn't want Clark to get in trouble for this, so there was only one way. Blame it on the M word… Magic. After all, what else could he blame it on? A rare case of plant combustion… or aliens? He could see how that would turn out, and shivered to think of the punishment that would follow. Either way, magic was what he was writing it off as. He just didn't understand how that was possible at the moment.

"It was, well, an accident you see. I didn't mean to do it really." Harry stared pointedly at his aunt and her eyes widen to the size of saucers once she understood. Her face paled and she quickly turned to Clark.

"Clark if you'll just excuse us for a moment," her voice was clipped and sharp as she quickly grabbed Harry's arm. "Come with me boy!" Clark started to move forward, looking worried and confused about what was going on but Harry held up a hand to stop him.

"Just stay here Clark." Clark still looked worried, but he did what Harry told him. Harry was then practically dragged down the stairs by his aunt and into the back yard. She took one look at the burnt bush and her lips thinned to a white line. Finally, she released his arm and pointed a finger at him.

"You did magic outside of that dreadful school of yours! You may have gotten away with it last time, but you'll be expelled for sure this time. What on earth happened?!"

"I didn't do it!"

"You just said that you did!" Harry looked up at the window to his room and saw Clark standing there. Moving his aunt over to a corner, he continued their conversation in a hush tone.

"I think it was that silver-eyed beast you saw yesterday." If it was at all possible, Aunt Petunia went even paler than before.

"What was it?"

"I don't know yet." Aunt Petunia stared for a moment and then spoke in a strict voice.

"Vernon and Dudley are not to hear of this." She then moved towards the back door and with out turning around she continued. "Dig up that bush and throw it in the garbage."

Harry looked at his Aunt as she entered the house. This was confusing. One minute she's yelling and the next telling him not to tell his uncle and cousin about what happened. He quickly followed her into the kitchen where she was shakily pulling something out of the oven and setting it on he counter.

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Because," she turned around to face him. "I want to forget that you just told me that. I don't want to be mixed up with your, your kind! Now go dig up that bush!" She turned back to tending to dinner and Harry sighed, turning around towards the door to do what she said. Before he was all the way through the doorway, she called to him.

"And dinner is in twenty minutes. Be back inside and washed up before then so Vernon won't know."

"Yes Aunt Petunia." He then continued out into the night, his mind full of new and confusing thoughts once again.

A/N: I have NO idea where that just came from. I just got back from a snow trip at about three and started writing. I thought it would be awhile until the next chapter, but look at that, I've got a chapter. I'm still a little zoned out though, so it's up to you readers to tell me if I'm crazy for writing this or not. Oh, and I know according to Smalliville Clark started fires with his eyes at first because, well, he was thinking about sex. I figured, he's not going to be in any situation in this AU to be thinking about that any time soon, so I've changed it to anger. So I'm just going to go duck behind my virtual umbrella in anticipation for those virtual tomatoes now, bye.