Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters (man, I wish…) J.K. Rowling is the wonderful creator of them, I only get to manipulate them however I want, but I get nothing from it except making them do funny things. Heh.
Notes: The title of this fic is the title of a song by the wonderful Jewel, I'm only using it, I don't get anything but enjoyment from it and the title of this chapter is a line from Buried Myself Alive by The Used… I love The Used! They rock! Please R&R.
Please read: This is the new chapter that was edited with me by my lovely and awesome Beta Valedro; she rocks my socks.
Chapter One: This time I'm not going to watch myself die.
Harry stepped into an almost full classroom and ran his fingers through his black hair. He knocked on the open door, and the teacher at the front of the room turned around.
"Yes?" he asked with a small smile; he looked to be in his early forties with already greying hair and a worn face.
"Mr Lupin? My name is Harry Potter; I've just started school here today."
"Welcome." The man smiled warmly, giving Harry a look up and down, eyes stopping at his painted black nails, black jewellery, and the dark makeup that framed his green eyes.
Harry made himself stare back steadily. He was used to getting odd looks for the way he dressed.
"Have a seat, hmm, over there by Miss Granger." He pointed to a girl sitting close to the front of the room; she had dark brown wavy hair and warm brown eyes slightly obscured by cute reading glasses. She looked up at the sound of her name and smiled at Harry.
Harry sighed and made his way over, checking out the other students in the classroom. There were two pretty Indian girls giggling at the back of the room, a dark haired serious looking boy with glasses was hunched over his desk reading, a handsome dark skinned teen sat with his feet on his desk
"Harry, is it? I'm Hermione Granger, how are you?" She leaned forward, smiling.
"Um, good, thanks," Harry answered politely.
"Where did you come from?"
"Melbourne," Harry answered shortly, a now familiar tightness grabbing at his throat. He didn't want to discuss his reasons for moving to the small town of Lismore so far away from home. He didn't even want to think about it. He looked down at his desk and picked at the edge.
Hermione Granger seemed to pick up on this and left it alone. "So, you like English? I love it, it's my favourite subject." She leant forward, her whole face lit up, and Harry could tell this was something she could talk about forever.
"Yeah, it's a great subject. But I'd have to say art is my favourite class," Harry answered. He took after his mother in that; Lily Potter was a rather infamous artist in Melbourne and had been ecstatic when Harry had showed signs of great artistic potential.
"Oh? Are you good at it?" She looked a bit surprised.
Harry pulled his satchel onto his lap and rummaged through it for his art diary. "Here, see for yourself." He sat back and forced himself not to watch as she took his book. No matter how many people told him that they liked his work and how amazing it was, he still didn't like to show it off.
Hermione pondered the cover for a moment and then opened it and began to flick through the book. She spent ages poring over the pages.
"Oh, wow. This is amazing." Hermione looked up at Harry, her eyes wide.
Harry smiled nervously. He still couldn't get used to it. It was just pencil and paint, what was so great about it? He just loved the calm feeling it gave him to work. "Thanks."
The book was filled with drawings of people; faces, and pages of scenes of several people playing games, reading or talking, and then there were words drawn in graffiti style, pages of experiments with paint, pastels and other materials. In sort, it was like one big work of art.
"Malfoy is going to have a heart attack when he sees this." Hermione grinned mischievously.
"Who's Malfoy?" Harry asked.
"Draco Malfoy. He's the best in art in the school, wins lots of prizes and such. He's also one of the best in most of his classes and an insufferable arrogant bastard. He thinks that because he's smart that everyone should love him and treat him like a god or something, and when they don't, he gets really pissed off. But the girls just love him." Hermione rolled her eyes, obviously not a fan.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
Hermione laughed. "Well, he is absolutely gorgeous. But he also knows it and thinks he's God's gift to the human race. He is good looking – until he opens his mouth."
Harry chuckled "I know what you mean."
"Well, you'll see for yourself soon. He's in this class." Hermione sighed and bent down to rifle through her bulging bag. She seemed to carry an inordinate amount of books around, Harry noticed with a smile.
At that moment Harry looked up at the doorway of the classroom, just as the most spectacularly gorgeous creature walked through it. He had almost white blond hair that softly layered around his face, piercing silvery grey eyes and smooth pale skin, accentuated by the simple black clothes he wore; a button-up long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and loose fitting trousers, both of which clung to his well muscled body as he moved.
Harry almost felt himself drool. He couldn't look away from the exquisite being in front of him.
"Harry. Harry!" Harry shook himself and turned to Hermione.
"Yeah?" he asked, clearing his throat.
"Here, you can borrow my notes from this year so far. Oh, Malfoy's here. That's him, Harry." Hermione looked up and nodded at the blond angel. Harry swallowed.
"That's Malfoy? I see what you mean." Harry watched him, as he made his way to a desk on the other side of the room. Malfoy held himself with an air of complete confidence, with a tinge of arrogant pride that made him seem untouchable.
"Oh, he just makes my blood boil, the arrogant twit. Thankfully Ron isn't in this class or you'd never hear the end of it." Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Who's Ron? Is he your boyfriend?"
"Oh, no. We're just friends," She shook her head "we've known each other since we were little." Harry nodded.
"Alright class, settle down. Today we have a new student starting, Harry Potter." Mr Lupin interrupted and gestured to Harry to stand. Harry restrained himself from rolling his eyes and stood up.
"And you came from…?" Mr Lupin began questioningly.
"Melbourne," Harry answered shortly. Mr Lupin nodded. Harry could feel everyone's eyes on him and struggled not to adjust his clothes. He looked around the class and his eyes fell on Draco Malfoy who was watching him intently.
"You can sit down now, Mr Potter." Mr Lupin nodded at him.
Harry sat back down with an almost inaudible sigh of relief. He hated being in the spotlight.
"Okay, today we're going to talk Shakespeare!" Mr Lupin looked around the class with a twinkle in his eye.