Hello! I cannot believe how long its taken me to update... wow. I've been so bad about my fanfics... but if any of you have found me on Fiction Press, you know that I'm even worse at those... oops.

Well... at long last here it is- Chapter 13 of Culture Shock. I'm going to appologize now for it being so long between updates... and appologize in advance because i dont really know how long its going to be untill the next one. Sorry.

This Chapters a litle angsty compared to the others, and there's very little humor. I appologixe to all of my readers who were looking forward to a funny new chapter. If you're one of those people, I'm sorry, but this isn't it. I am however very proud of the way i wrote this section. Finally Harry and Draco are starting to admit their feelings for eachother... and the angst and all that is necessary for what I think is going to happen in the next few chapters. Pther than that, I'm not really sure whats going on.

Thank you all very much for your suppost, and I'd appreciate if you'd review and tell me what you think. Thank you.

DISCLAIMER:Harry Potter and all related material is the property of JK Rowling. I claim ownership of nothing.

Harry's POV:

I cant take this anymore... These Americans are starting to get to me.

Don't get me wrong, I mean, The School itself is beautiful. In the fall there were beautifully colored leaves everywhere, and now, as winter settles in further, the days are crisp and cold. The whole band thing, with learning the instruments is good... My oboe is going well, and Draco's switched fully to the Piccolo.

Did I ever say how amazing he is? And how beautiful he looks when he played that tiny instrument?

It's not the school, it's the people. To them, Harry Potter is made up, so when they see me in the hallway, It's a double take, then the eye-flick, all of which I'm used to.

It's the laughter I can't stand.

All the people, they just look, find the scar, and laugh. laugh like I'm some kind of freak. A fan of a book that got a little too carried away with a razor blade one day and gave himself a lightning-bolt scar.

But let me tell you... the scars I give myself wont be in the shape of lightning bolts.

I dream about it at night, and it scares me every morning- the subtle numbing pain that makes everything fade away. The clean cuts, and the deep red liquid that drips from them, as I cut deeper and deeper. Blood... my blood. And sometimes, I go so deep , that everything goes away, and in my dream my world gets fuzzy, and then, just when I'm about to black out for the last time- I wake up.

They say it's impossible to die in your dreams, but sometimes, I just wish they'd let me.

xxxxx

Draco's POV:

And I've fallen for Draco Malfoy. You know what? Life just seriously sucks sometimes...

The scars I give myself wont be in the shape of lightning bolts...

They say it's impossible to die in your dreams, but sometimes, I just wish they'd let me.

I know I shouldn't have done it, but it was just sitting there on his bed. Harry's trip journal.

And once I started reading, I couldn't stop. To see this whole trip so far through his eyes... it was kind of strange. I was always told that Harry Potter was a spoiled brat, held in the highest regard, living in a mansion ten times larger and grander than my own.

But then I met him. In that shop on Diagon Alley, I believe it was while I was being measured for new robes. In walks this skinny, timid little boy, with black hair- and at first I thought he might be someone to torment, if indeed he was going to be a first year. But Then he looked up, and I saw those amazingly green eyes of his, and instantly knew that I had to make him my friend. Apparently, he was less than impressed with my efforts at forming a friendship.

I thought that I would never see that green-eyed boy again. And on the train ride to Hogwarts, the rumors of Harry Potter's entrance into the school spread like wildfire. I wasn't sure what to do. I mean on one hand, He had brought down the Dark Lord. On the other, He was powerful enough to do so. And father had always said to make powerful friends.

I decided to introduce myself, and when he turned around I saw those clear, deep green eyes, and knew that my attempts at friendship were going to be useless. I'd most likely already made an enemy of the boy, and he didn't look like he had a problem with that.

He rejected me, plain and simple. So I decided to forget him- better yet, try my hardest to make his life a living hell. I know it wasn't right, after all he's been through, to make it worse for him, but its not like he didn't have his revenge. There were moments.

And now. All those feelings of needing him are coming back to me. I can't stand it. It's driving me crazy. Right now, I'm sitting on my bed as I'm writing this, with Harry already asleep, and Weasley nowhere to be found.

He looks so peaceful when he's asleep. His face is soft and relaxed, and I wonder what this amazing boy is dreaming about. What do you dream about? Is it all the shit that's happened to you in your life- replaying over and over in your head, and filling in the blanks where you can't remember everything, where you blocked it all out, and the images you create for yourself are just as bad as the ones you actually saw. Or are you inventing yourself the perfect family- the one you never had? The normal life with loving parents, and friends, and without all the people who stare and whisper as you pass.

I love you. Do you know that?

Damn You Harry Potter, You made me fall in love with you, when I'm supposed to hate you. I'm supposed to hate everything about you, but everything I'm supposed to hate, I end up loving. Damn you Father, for bringing me up in this world the way you did. Raising me to hate people who have done nothing to deserve it. Girls who were born magical in the muggle world, who have studied hard to prove themselves; Guys who's families believe in justice, and keep believing even thought they're avoided by other purebloods; and a famous boy who did nothing to deserve it, was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Who was given fame and the responsibility of saving the wizarding world in exchange for a loving family. Damn you Lord Voldemort. I'm not afraid to write your name, even thought I still avoid speaking it. damn you for taking away my Father, bringing him into your world of hatred and violence, killing and lies. Brainwashing him into believing that everyone is beneath him, and that I should be raised into the same morals that you brought him into. You took away my Father, who frightened my mother into silence, and forced me to become a cold hard shell in order to impress him and in turn, you.

Damn you world- for keeping me from the life I deserve. The life that I need. The life that I dream about.

Hermione's POV:

Harry's been acting very strange lately. He's quieter than usual, and I've caught him clutching at his wrists. holding them to his chest. like he was protecting them from something.

I'm worried about him. I don't know if he can take much more than he's already been through. He was given so much responsibility at such a young age, and now he's guilty of murder- not that anyone will accuse him of it. I've heard that all the muggles' memories have been modified to believe that J.K. Rowling died of a heart attack... and the wizards who know will never accuse him- he's Harry Potter after all.

But he's not just Harry Potter. He's a boy who needs someone to love him, a boy who desperately wants a real family, and a boy who only wants to be normal.

Above that, he's Harry Potter, one of the best friends anyone could ask for.