Hello, everyone!

First, of course, thank you so much for the reviews! I mean, really – WOW! I have never received so many reviews for one chapter! You guys totally rock and I appreciate every single one. I swear, as I'm reading the reviews, there's always this big goofy smile on my face. And if people try to talk to me while I'm reading them, I'm like, "Shhh! I'm reading, here!" lol

Your guys are totally awesome! Thanks, you guys!

So now I just need to clear something up really quickly and then I can move on to the chapter. :-)

Note: Alright, I've received a few reviews confused because of the difference in laws around different places in the world, so I'm just going to state this right now. I am American. Therefore, because it would be too confusing for me otherwise, I'm just going to go with the typical American laws for this story. I'm saying typical because every state has its own laws. If you don't know them, Dumbledore will pretty much summarize them for you in this chapter. Hope that clears up a few things!

Now, onto the story!

Chapter 17

Needing…

Another horrible day, Harry thought to himself spitefully as he walked up the steps to the main entrance of the school - his head hanging low, his feet dragging sorrowfully, and his arms hanging limply by his sides.

The brunette had walked home the day before, just as depressed as ever, and had promptly fallen asleep on his bed upon the arrival of his home. His mother had not questioned him, noting that he might just want some time alone for a bit. She had woken him up some time later to inquire if he'd like to eat a bit of dinner, and had soon after left sadly at his quietly murmured reply of, "no."

He had woken up, once again, just as the sun was rising from its own, warm bed and into the sky. Reflecting upon the events of the day before, he still had yet to feel regret for any of it. The youth did not honestly see Ginny as a true threat, and even if she was, Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He had forgotten to do his homework again, but this time, he didn't scramble to complete it. Instead, he spent the few hours he had before the time for class preparation had to begin staring at the wall opposite the bed on which he sat motionless, thoughtless.

Finally, when the sounds of his parents moving around reached his ears and woke him out of his stupor, he mechanically began his morning ritual of showering, getting dressed, and so on.

Now, as he stood at the main entrance of the school, waiting for the clock to tick by and set off the first bell of the day, the young brunette began to feel nervous twinges in his stomach. They felt slightly new to him, and he tried to ignore them as best as he could.

Something was wrong.

He gulped uneasily and forced himself to walk calmly towards his locker as he heard the bell sound loudly in his ears. I don't care. I don't care. He slowly began to feel the worry flood through him and thought to himself silently, I don't care. I don't care.

If he continued to tell himself this, then perhaps he would fall back into his phase of depression and get a move on with his life. He didn't want to become enveloped in a ball of anxiety all over again. He wanted to be through with all of that and simply go through the day as neutral and calm as possible, but that was quickly becoming a problem.

He could feel the eyes of several students upon him, and as he turned his head slowly to the sides, he came in contact with many: angry, hating, condescending eyes; pitying ones, sorrowful ones; some filled with disgust and some filled with disappointment; others, with disbelief and shock.

What was going on?

He could feel his breath catching in his throat, and suddenly, it seemed as though there wasn't enough oxygen in the room. The many owners of all these eyes were clutching greedily at his air and stealing it away, leaving him with a meager amount; leaving him to gasp desperately for air as he walked hurriedly to his locker.

Whispers suddenly broke through the oxygen-lacking air as he passed his fellow classmates. They where hurried and hushed; angry and loudly silent in that penetrating way in which only some can successfully produce; quiet and skeptical; slow and smug.

The frenzied, secretive words only fueled him, and filled his feet with that much more speed. He hurried over to his locker as it finally came within sight, and rushed to turn the correct locker combination. His shaking hands messed it up a few times, but when he finally put in the right number combination and opened his locker door, it was as though he had opened the door to a room of new troubles.

Instantaneously, several pieces of paper fell out and suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers, but more confidant, outspoken words; fragments of sentences; arrogant declarations.

"… him and Draco kissing!"

"… Harry… she said…. More disgusting than…"

"I heard…."

"No way! I don't believe it…"

"…but Harry always seemed so good…"

"Look, there he is and…"

"What are all those papers…?"

"I put one in, myself. That guy deserves a good…"

He held out one trembling hand and bent down to pick up one particular note. Slowly, he unfolded it to read, Dirty fag!

His hands dropped the paper immediately and he paled several shades whiter. He saw Ron hesitantly come up from behind him and tried to turn a murderous glare at him, but all he could manage was a desperate, hurt, and disbelieving look; his eyes pleading for the red-head to prove his thoughts incorrect.

Ron shook his head slowly and whispered, "I didn't tell, Harry. I swear it."

The brunette took in a shaky breath and turned his face away. "Harry," the freckled teen whispered even more softly. The other merely shook his head slowly, wishing for everyone to disappear.

Then, a thought suddenly hit him.

His head jerked up anxiously and he asked urgently, in a hushed whisper, "What about Draco? What happened to him?"

Ron shook his head, helplessly. "All I know is what everyone else has been saying all morning. They say Dumbledore came and pulled him out for a talk yesterday, just before the end of his last class."

Harry began to turn, ready to see Draco; not caring about any of the consequences that would come from running straight to his room. The secret was out already; everyone knew. There was nothing left to hide.

"Don't bother." Ron said, laying a hand gently on Harry's shoulder, before quickly pulling it away, looking as though he was fighting an inner battle with himself. "I mean, he's not here. There's a substitute that's taking his place and…" He gave an unsure glance at Harry's grief-stricken features before continuing. "I don't know if he'll be back."

Harry's eyes went wide, and he held back the urge to shout out an unbelieving "WHAT?" Where was Draco, now? What had Dumbledore decided? Had they asked the blonde any questions? Was Draco going to be alright?

And, as many more questions began flying hazardously through his mind, he realized, with a sudden pang of some unknown feeling, he did care.

DHDHDH

Harry made sure to rush to all his classes in between periods so that he wouldn't have to run into anyone. He spent his classes hunched over and trying to hide himself, and his teachers didn't bother him. None of them asked him questions or tried to bring any attention to him. Harry felt safe in his classes – no one would dare approach him in front of a teacher.

That is, of course, until biology class rolled around.

From the moment Harry stepped into the classroom, he could tell things were only going to get worse. And Snape proved Harry correct throughout the entire duration of the class, as he picked on Harry unmercifully.

"Potter – explain symbiosis." Harry looked around helplessly. Not that he actually paid attention during biology class, but he usually made sure to take down a few notes every once in a while and at least understand the basics of classroom discussions. He did not, however, remember this supposed… symbiosis whatsoever.

So, as his only possible answer, the younger brunette shook his head.

"Fine, then. Define commensalism. No? What about Mutualism? You don't know that either?" Harry simply stared helplessly, not understanding a word of what Snap was saying. "I find this rather interesting. You see, all of this was on last night's homework assignment, and if you did it, then you should know the answers to these questions. Now tell me, did you do last night's homework?"

Crap! He was caught. The brunette wished he had cared about his homework this morning. Now what was he supposed to do? He wouldn't dare tell Snape that he didn't do it, but what other choice did he have? He simply stood still, hoping for Snape to ignore him, walk away, and note down his zeros in private.

But of course, this did not happen.

"Show me your homework!" He barked out.

"I…I don't have it."

"And why not?" his smug smirk grew more unbearable with every second that ticked by.

"Because I…Because I didn't…I didn't do it." The emerald-eyed youth looked down, embarrassed, as snickers and giggles broke out through the classroom. Normally, Snape would have silenced them all with the quickest of glances, for happiness of any form greatly displeased him. However, if the amusement was directed towards Harry's embarrassment and idiocy, the snarky old teacher could most definitely make an exception.

"I thought as much. Two zeros: one for not doing your homework, and two for being unprepared for my class while being questioned." Just as he turned around and Harry thought the worst was over, Snape said over his shoulder, "Oh, and detention. Today."

He suppressed a groan of protest before running a hand quickly through his hair and preparing himself for the rest of the horrid things that Snape would undoubtedly do to him with the thirty-five minutes still remaining in the class period.

DHDHDH

Geometry – his last class before lunch.

The brunette teen found himself dreading lunch more than ever before. It was odd, he realized, as he thought it over in his head. Most people loved lunch and waited for it desperately; it was a chance to finally get away from class and get together with friends. Harry could remember back before Draco came; back before any of these problems started. He used to love lunch just as much as anyone else.

But not anymore.

Now he dreaded lunch more than anything else. He had no friends to go to, today. He could just picture them all glaring at him with disgust and disappointment. The teachers at least, although probably fully against him as well, did not outwardly show it. He had no doubt in his mind that they were just as repulsed with him as anyone else.

Even Ron, his best friend, had turned his back on him. Though, to the red-head's credit, Harry could tell that Ron had kept his relationship with Draco a secret. Ginny was the one who had told. Of that, he was sure.

It was his own fault for underestimating her. Draco had warned him, but as with everything else lately, Harry had decided to take things into his own hands and do as he saw fit, rather than listening to the blonde.

Now he was trapped with all these problems, and he could only imagine how much worse things were for Draco. He sighed to himself. He couldn't believe how stupid he'd been.

With ten minutes left in the class period, he could slowly feel his stomach sinking further and further within himself until he was sure it was going to disappear. He wanted to hurl. He could feel it; he was going to be sick.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and a girl timidly walked in. Harry thought she was a freshman, but he couldn't be sure. She had straight brown hair that she combed in a way that hid her face. She seemed jumpy and nervous as she said, "Erm…excuse me, Miss, but the principle wants to see Harry Potter."

All heads in the classroom immediately turned in his direction and, ignoring the outright staring, he quickly packed his things up – seeing as to how it was nearly lunch and he wouldn't have time to come back to pick them up afterward – and followed the girl out of the room.

She walked next to him, intending to lead him all the way to Principle Dumbledore's office, quite unnecessarily. No one spoke for a few moments until Harry said, "I can get to the Principle's office on my own, you know."

"Yes, b-but," she began, in a jittery manner. "I'm supposed to walk you all the way there to make sure you don't make a-any detours on the way." At Harry's shocked look, she quickly added, "D-don't worry. I've had to get people from classes before and they always make me walk with the people all the way to the office. It's not just you."

"Oh." It was possible, he supposed. He'd never been called to the principle's office by a student before, so he couldn't exactly say if the girl was lying or not.

As they drew closer to the principle's office, the mousy girl finally asked quietly, "Is- is it true? Did you and that teacher really…?"

He simply glared at her, and she quickly stopped talking, choosing to stare down at the floor for the rest of the walk. They finally arrived and, after giving a quick knock on Dumbledore's office door, she hurriedly scampered away.

"Come in."

Harry stepped in dubiously and stood in front of the elderly man awkwardly for a moment before he gestured to the brunette to take a seat.

"Harry," he began. "It has recently come to my attention that there might be some…ah… particular relationship between Mr. Malfoy and yourself." The youth remained quiet, opting that saying nothing at all was better than saying something stupid. After a few moments of silence had passed, Dumbledore continued again.

"Although I have been informed of this by a certain student who wishes to remain anonymous,"

"Ginny," Harry muttered angrily under his breath. Dumbledore chose to ignore the comment and continued as though he had not been interrupted.

"I can't say that there is any actual evidence proving the truth of this." He looked Harry closely in the eye for a moment before continuing. "However, I am going to ask you, as I know that you are a trustworthy pupil."

"But Mr. Dumbledore, please-"

"Ah, ah, ah, Harry, just a moment. I want you to think very carefully before you answer anything. What we're dealing with here, if the situation is in fact true, is a very serious matter, indeed. Not only is it against school rules for a student to date his or her teacher, but it can also become an issue of law-breaking if certain sexual actions have been pursued."

Harry suppressed the desperate urge to gulp nervously, and remained silent while holding what he hoped was a blank expression on his face, as the principle continued.

"I am not making any accusations, but I am saying that if an adult takes part in sexual intercourse with a person under the age of consent, serious penalties can take place. Although the minor will not be punished, the adult can face several years in jail."

Harry made sure to stay as still as possible and kept his breath down to what he hoped was a normal pace.

"So I will ask you two questions. The first is, have you taken part in sexual intercourse with Mr. Malfoy."

He couldn't breathe. One minute he was trying to keep his breathing down to a minimum, and the next he couldn't breathe at all. He was feeling very dizzy, and black spots began popping around the room, randomly. What had he gotten himself into? What had Draco gotten himself into.

What could he say? He couldn't possibly lie outright to the principle of his school, could he? He could lie, yes, but so blatantly? The only idea the brunette could think of was to change the topic slightly.

"Listen, Mr. Dumbledore, I know who told you. It was Ginny, wasn't it?"

"I am not going to say who-"

"It was! I know it was her! But you can't really believe her, now can you? She could be lying for all you know!"

"That is exactly why I am asking you."

Harry remained silent.

"Let me start with a smaller question. Were you and Mr. Malfoy involved in an intimate relationship?" After waiting for a few moments for a reply that he knew would never come, he decided to switch topics briefly to ease up the tenseness of the boy before him. "Very well, then. Now, I understand that you may be worried about what your parents will think…"

Crap! He hadn't even thought about that.

"Have you told them-?"

Dumbledore cut him off with the wave of a hand. "Nothing has been proven yet, and so I did not feel as though it was of a desperate necessity to inform them of what is only a rumor."

"Then what about Draco?"

"Draco?" The bearded man raised a curious eye brow. "Mr. Malfoy, you mean."

"Mr. Dumbledore, please, you can't honestly hold that against me. Everyone calls him Draco! He said it from the first day. He wanted us all to be like friends and…" The teen stopped, seeing that if he continued, things would only look worse.

"Well, in any case, getting back to Ms. Weasely, if she was indeed the one who brought up the idea that you and Mr. Malfoy were dating – and I'm not saying that she is -, my question is, why would she lie about something so serious?"

Harry shrugged as if at a loss of what to say, but then said, "Well, I don't want to sound mean, but Ginny's just angry because I left her at the dance. She's just trying to get back at me."

"And tell me, Harry, why did you leave her at the dance?"

"I just umm… I wasn't feeling very well. I started to get a headache and I went out for a bit of air and then, I just sort of forgot her and walked around for a bit before going home." His voice was shaking slightly. He hoped with all his might that Dumbledore couldn't tell.

"A curious thing is that one of the teachers told me that he saw Mr. Malfoy walk out just a few moments after you. Did you two see each other?" The elderly man waited calmly for his pupil to answer. Please don't lie, he thought to himself silently. Harry had always been one of his favorite students, but this was a very serious matter. Snape had already informed him that Draco had spoken with Harry after the dance. If Harry lied about seeing the blonde, their secret, if there truly was one, would surely be revealed.

Harry looked down into the shaking hands on his lap and quickly moved his hands so that he was sitting on them. What should he tell his principle? He knew Draco had already been in to speak with him, but what had the blonde told Dumbledore? Draco was a very good liar, but Harry could not say the same about himself. He was much better, instead, at pulling out a semblance of the truth while simply leaving some information out, or blotting it slightly with his own words. Full out lying, however, was not at the top of his most positive talents.

Licking his lips nervously, he made a decision. "Yes, I did see him, but..." He stopped momentarily. He was going to speak slowly and clearly, so that he wouldn't trap himself. "But…we only spoke for a little bit. It was purely coincidental that we both went out at the same time. Then, after speaking for a bit, he mentioned that his shift was over, and we both just left our separate ways. I mean, I didn't want to keep him from what he was doing, after all."

Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly, thinking things through. There was no evidence to prove that the two had actually had sex. Therefore, even if they were dating, the worst that could happen was Draco being fired. While he didn't want to get the blonde teacher into trouble, he also did not want his closest pupil to get too deeply involved in something that he might regret later on. The boy was young, and perhaps he did not know what he was getting himself into.

The bell for lunch suddenly ran loudly, giving both a start.

"Very well, Harry. I simply hope that you are not lying."

Harry nodded quickly and turned, eager to leave as quickly as possible.

"Oh, and by the way, good luck with the game, tonight."

Oh no.

DHDHDH

He had completely forgotten about the basketball game during all the commotion. That was just one more thing he had to worry about. He did not feel up to playing a game at all - especially with the fact that he would have to deal with all his teammates.

Wonderful, he thought to himself, sarcastically. Just one more problem to worry about.

His heart began to beat erratically as he walked closer and closer to the cafeteria. Slowly taking a few breaths to calm himself down, he walked in quickly and hurried over to buy his food. Maybe no one would notice him.

No such luck.

The moment he stepped foot into the large room, whispers began to break out, ten times louder than this morning, but he tried his best to ignore them. He tried to avoid their eyes and block out the whispers until someone yelled out, "What a bloody pouf!" which soon inspired others to yell out nasty comments of their own.

He couldn't understand it. People who he had known for several years were all suddenly turning on him for something as trivial as who he was dating. People who he had thought were his friends were now behaving as though they had always been the worst of enemies.

As the ghastly remarks increased, he snapped. He couldn't take it anymore. He hurried through the crowd of people that had surrounded around him, pushing and shoving his way past everyone.

He ran into the boy's bathroom, hoping to God that no one would be there. The voices were still ringing in his head nastily. Everything was going so horribly wrong. If Harry had been but two years older, no one would even care!

Yeah, right. Harry's mind scowled, bitterly. Then they would care because you're dating a guy.

"Argh!" Harry growled out angrily, and walked over to the sink, turning the faucet on and splashing a handful of water over his face. He struggled to calm himself down and even out his breathing. "Oh God," Harry moaned to himself, helplessly. He hid his face in his hands, leaning against the wall. Then, feeling weak, he let himself slowly slide down until he was sitting on the floor and burying his face into his knees, which he hugged tightly against his chest.

"Harry?"

The brunette's head whipped up to reveal Ron standing nervously in the doorway, before he mustered up his courage and walked in all the way, closing the door behind him. "Are you alright?"

"What do you care? I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with me." He snarled out nastily. He didn't know why he was being so mean towards his best friend when it was obvious that he was trying to be nice, but at a time when he felt the whole world was against him, he needed someone to vent out his anger on.

"I guess you should be mad at me," The freckled boy said softly, before taking a few steps closer until he was standing right in front of the brunette. "Listen, Harry, I'm… I mean, I guess I can't exactly say that I'm sorry for getting mad when you told me about…well, you know." He stopped for a moment, allowing Harry to roll his eyes, before continuing. "But I am sorry for how I showed my anger. I still don't think what you're doing is right, but God, Harry, no one deserves to be outcast like that."

"What?" Harry couldn't believe what Ron was saying.

"Look, mate. I don't agree with what you're doing, but it's your life, you know, and no one has the right to tell you what you can and can't do. Not me, and not anyone else out there."

"Wait…so, you're ok with it?"

"Well, no, not exactly. It's just that, I still think it's sort of… well, weird, but hey, you're my best friend, and if that's what you want to do, who am I to stop you, right? I may not understand it, and I may not agree with you on the whole thing, but…oh, don't make me do this! You know I'm bad with the whole emotional thing!" He whined, smiling jokingly. The red-head then stretched out his hand, and Harry grabbed it appreciatively, pulling himself up.

He grinned at Ron, thinking that maybe things wouldn't be so horrible after all just as long as he still had Ron as a friend, when another idea came to mind. "And what about Hermione? What does she think about all this?"

"Well, you know, she was sort of mad because you stole Draco away from her…"

The two boys broke out into a fit of laughter, and Harry felt happier than he had in quite a while. "But seriously speaking, after the first shock at finding out, she was pretty ok with it. I mean, I guess if anything, she was just a little hurt that you didn't tell her."

"Crap. I should have told her instead of you."

"Hey!" Ron protested playfully before sobering up and adding, "I'm sorry that I wasn't as supportive as I should have been Harry. I really do appreciate that you trusted me, though."

Harry shrugged, pushing the matter away.

After a few moments of silence, Ron finally asked, "So, what's going to happen? I heard Dumbledore pulled you in for a talk."

"I don't know." He answered, shaking his head. "They don't have any actual evidence yet, so there's nothing they can do. I just hope Draco's alright."

DHDHDH

Detention flew by quickly, and had actually been good for Harry. It had given him some time to think while sitting quietly in a room filled with a few other students for forty-five minutes. There had, of course, been several students who'd glared at him disgustedly throughout the entire detention, but as they weren't allowed to speak, and Harry had already gotten slightly more used to this from the students around him all day, it was easy enough for him to just ignore them.

What wasn't going to go by so quickly was the basketball game.

As he walked into the locker room, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, it wasn't very difficult at all to see that the majority of his teammates were using all the willpower they had to keep from beating Harry with verbal abuse and perhaps even more. It was only lucky that their coach had made sure to stay in the locker room with them.

His excuse was that he wanted to "stay nearby and give off some good luck," though it was clear to everyone else that he wanted to make sure no one broke out into a fight due to the newly made rumors about Harry, which had quickly spread out to everyone.

As Harry avoided everyone and dressed quietly, Ron came up behind him and whispered, "Just ignore them."

"Yeah," Fred added in as he jumped in front of the brunette.

"They're just being ass holes," George commented, jumping in front of Harry from the other side.

He smiled slightly and murmured, "Thanks, guys."

Just as the twins were going to say something more, Oliver called for their attention and they quickly went over the game plans. Then, it was time for the game to begin.

When the starters all began walking onto the game floor, the coach pulled out a hand in front of Harry and said guiltily, "Go sit down, Harry. I think it would be best if you didn't play just yet." Holding back a glare, Harry turned around, heading for the bench as Coach Rabble called out, "Jeffrey, you're in!"

Harry watched the game play out before him, morosely. They were through the first half of the game, and they were losing by ten points. Still, though, Coach Rabble refused to put him in the game.

As the team players came over for a quick break, Harry could see the angry tenseness pulsing within each of the players, tired and sweaty. They were all breathing heavily, and finally, Ron said, "Coach, I need to take a break. Please, you've got to call me out."

Coach Rabble was feeling very frustrated at the moment, Harry could tell, and with a final sigh, he said, "Alright, fine. Take a seat. Potter… you're in."

Harry jumped up eagerly, ready for the game. His legs were jumpy and full of energy waiting to be unleashed. The whistle blew and the players walked back onto the court. The ball went up in the air, and Fred jumped high and slapped it over to George, who caught it and began dribbling quickly toward the basket.

He shot, missed, and Harry, prepared for anything, jumped up and shot the rebound back up, scoring with a nice swish. He was pepped up and ready to play to his fullest potential, but his energy was never given the opportunity of release.

Although he had made a perfect shot, Justin and even Oliver refused to pass him the ball. Fred and George tried when they could, but it wasn't very easy. Justin would jump in front of Harry and steal the ball from him, and when Harry was wide open with the others blocked, Justin and Oliver would try to make impossible shots rather than passing the ball to him.

Finally, frustrated and angry, Harry gave up and just jogged wherever the ball was, without really intending to actually get involved in the game. It was pointless to try otherwise.

There were only two minutes left in the game, and they were down by fourteen points due to Justin and Oliver's bigoted stupidity. Still, they refused to pass the ball to Harry, and the time was quickly ticking away.

One minute left…thirty seconds left…. The game was lost and Harry knew it. They all knew it. His pep and adrenaline has long ago left him and he had to push himself to keep up with the ball for the last remaining seconds.

Then, without any warning at all, Justin through the ball to Harry, who stood at the very center of the court, and shouted out angrily, "Shoot it!" The brunette began dribbling as quickly as he could, hoping to at least make one last shot for the game, but there were only seven seconds left and one boy from the other team was definitely playing a little too closely, making Harry wonder why the referee wasn't calling anything.

The boy kept slapping at his hands while trying to steal the ball. Harry looked around anxiously, hoping to maybe pass it to someone, but no one was open, and Harry was still a pretty long way from the basket with the boy slapping at him.

Frustrated with the referee for not calling any fouls, and with Justin and Oliver's idiocy which had lost them the game, and with the coach for keeping him out of the game for so long, Harry made a stupid attempt and threw the ball as best as he could, in the direction of the net.

For a second, it looked as though it was going to go in, but with a bonk, it bounced off the rim and missed, just as the game ended.

"You fucking cock-sucker!"

Harry froze. The crowd, which had momentarily erupted into applause for the other team, froze as well, and a deathly silence broke out across the gym. Harry looked up into the crowd and found his parents' faces, completely shocked. They had no idea. They knew nothing.

All Harry could think about was how disappointed his parents would be when they found out, and how horrible of a way this was to find out. He began to shake slightly, completely overwhelmed. His parents were staring at him, lost and confused, and hurt for their son; angry at Justin for saying such a horrid thing about their perfectly straight son.

If only they knew.

Harry didn't even notice as Ron launched himself at Justin and began beating his fist into his face. He didn't notice the crack of Justin's broken nose, or the angry shouts of Coach Rabble. He didn't notice Fred and George struggle to pull Ron off, or the crowd quickly accumulating around the gory scene.

All he knew was that he had to get out of there. Again, it was as if the oxygen was being sucked out of the air, and he needed to get out; needed to go free lest he die of suffocation.

He ran as quickly as he could, past the crowd; past his parents; through the doors, until he was outside and the night air was blissfully surrounding him, filling his nostrils with oxygen, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.

He kept on running; kept on sucking in as much air as he could get; kept shaking with an overwhelming overload of emotions racing through him rampantly.

All he could think was, I need to find Draco.

AN:

WOW! This was super long. Definitely the longest chapter of this story. It was also one of the most difficult chapters to write. Not because it was boring, but because there were so many hectic emotions all over the place that I wanted to make sure it came out realistically. I didn't want it to sound fake, and I hope it didn't I worked really hard on this chapter, and I hope you guys liked it. Initially, I was going to stretch this out a bit more and make it into two chapters, but I figured you guys would like it better if I just gave you one nice, long chapter. So, again, I hope you liked it. Please review.

xoxo Spideria xoxo