Part II –

Harry Potter kept his gaze firmly on his shoes as he shuffled down the corridor, hoping to reach the Gryffindor boys' dormitory before everyone came back from dinner. He did not feel like dealing with his housemates tonight; he was tired and unhappy (though that could be considered an understatement). The past few days he'd put up with sneers and snickers from them – yes, Gryffindors adopting the Slytherins' bad habits, how lovely. Harry didn't understand why he being gay had to change all his friendships into… hatred. All the people who used to look up to him with adoring eyes now gaze him a condescending look filled with disgust, just because he didn't feel for girls. 'Why can't my life be normal? It never has been…' Harry thought to himself sullenly.

"Oi! There's the faggot," Someone whispered behind him, loud enough so he could hear.

"Better not get too close, he might go after you," The other boy snickered.

"Oh come on you two; he has much better taste than that, I'm sure. No chance he'd be interested in either of you!" A girl chimed in playfully. With a scowl Harry spun around, facing the three.

"You are indeed correct, miss. I wouldn't dare waste my time on either of these boys." Harry spat out the last word as he examined the fourth years. Who did they think they were? It was amazing how rude the new generations kept getting. All three of them instantly shut up and stopped walking. With a wave of his hand and a sigh of irritation, Harry turned his back to them and began walking once more.

The Golden Boy made the extreme mistake of sitting in the Gryffindor common room instead of heading straight to bed. He at first figured he could enjoy a bit of time by the fire, reading maybe, but he was rudely interrupted up bouts of laughter and giggles. The noise instantly died down as they spotted Harry sitting there, but an unmistakable redhead stepped forward.

"What the bloody hell do you think you are doing 'ere, Potter?" Ron Weasly glared, obviously having no memory of the love and friendship they once shared. Harry was hurt by his loss of friends, but he knew he only needed himself, and in the end it wouldn't matter, anyways.

"I thought I could possibly enjoy a book or two by the fire."

"You thought wrong. This is no place for you, go somewhere else with your queer friends."

"I'm sorry to say, I have none. But the few that I have met were rather rude and ignorant. Hmmm, if I do say so myself, you would get along well with them!" Harry was surprised by his own words.

"You little bastard!" Ron lunged forward, grabbing hold of Harry's robes. Harry gasped at the pain as he felt a blow to his stomach, and then one to his nose. Ron had never seemed like the strong type, but his punch was a lot worse than it looked. One or two other Gryffindors pulled the Weasly off of him, but Ron flung them aside and jumped right back on Harry.

"Don't ever say I belong with others like you!"

"You know…" Harry coughed, a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth. "For a… straight guy…" Harry winced as hits came hard and fast into his stomach, "You sure like to… get… close to… faggots like me." Almost suddenly Ron stopped hitting him, and he backed away.

"Harry… you wait. I'll get you for humiliating me like that." He growled and stocked off. Harry sighed and stared up at the ceiling as the other Gryffindors quietly shuffled out of the common room to their dorms. 'So much for a nice read,' Harry thought sourly.

He pulled himself off of the ground, cringing as sharp pains ran throughout his body with each move. He could tell bruises were already forming, but thankfully not much damage was done to his face – which meant he could easily cover up the wounds and no one would know he was attacked. Harry frowned, knowing what he must do, but he felt like such a pansy for letting Ron win. 'He chased me out, like he wanted,' Harry's frown deepened as he thought.

"Well… off to Dumbledore's office it is." The raven-haired boy said to himself as he made his way out into the corridor. He considered himself lucky that it was so late, otherwise he would have to deal with stares from random students, and of course the whispers.

With a quiet knock on a large door, Harry waited patiently. He heard no rustling or movement at all, so hesitantly he raised his fist to the door again. Harry looked down at his shoes, shifting his weight from side to side. Dumbledore finally opened the door, and without and questioning he let Harry right in.

"Do sit down," The Headmaster said politely while motioning to a chair.

"Professor, I wished to speak to you about my… living agreements."

"Oh?"

"I don't think staying in the dormitory is quite a good idea," Harry bit his lip lightly as Dumbledore studied him closely.

"Is there anything I should know about?"

"No… I just think it would be best if I moved out."

"I suppose I could set up a room for you, somewhere… but if you are trying to escape the other students, I suggest you let no one know where it will be." Dumbledore smiled slightly, as if letting Harry know it would be all right, though both knew that wasn't necessarily true.

"Thank you, Professor. I greatly appreciate this."

"Of course, my dear boy. Now go get some rest, and tomorrow it will be ready." Harry moved to get up, but the older mans voice stopped him once more.

"Oh, one more thing, Harry…"

"Yes?"

"Is there anything else I should know, at all? About… anything, in general." Harry knew what Dumbledore meant: He wanted to know if Harry had a secret relationship with another boy at the school. Deciding it wouldn't be smart to share what happened with Draco, Harry shook his head and shrugged. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in a mischievous way, sensing this wasn't fully the truth.

Harry made his way down the spiral steps, watching the ground while deep in thought. What were his feelings about Draco? Surely they couldn't be purely sexual… or were they? Harry was a sixteen year old boy, after all; and sex is something sixteen year old boys tend to think about quite often. But then… the way Harry would smile when Draco looked so intent, doing school work, the way being within ten feet of Draco made Harry's stomach tighten… he knew it wasn't just lust. He'd started developing feelings for the Slytherin, that was for sure. But how he would cope with it, he had –

"Potter." A stern yet smooth voice spoke out his name. Instantly Harry's head shot up and he caught sight of blonde hair and sharp features.

"Hello, Draco." He held his breath for a moment after feeling his heart instantly speed up. For a moment he wondered why Draco was out so late, but then he remembered Draco was a prefect.

"What're you doing out?" This time Draco's voice was softer and more welcoming, which helped Harry relax a slight bit.

"I… I just went to Dumbledore. To move out of the Gryffindor dormitory." Draco nodded sympathetically, knowing it must be hard with his old friends now acting like this… he squinted, examining the small portion of Harry's neck which showed.

"Harry, why is your neck red?"

"Oh, no reason."

"Come here." Reluctantly Harry moved forward, yet he flinched when Draco's hand reached out to touch the skin. His fingers felt soft as the trailed along Harry's neck lightly.

"You must have more other places."

"More what?" Harry asked nervously, not liking where the conversation was heading.

"Bruises." Draco simply stated back, while letting his hands roam down Harry's stomach, lifting up his shirt to inspect his abdomen. What he saw elicited a deep gasp.

"Harry! Oh Merlin, what happened?" Draco whispered fiercely. Harry ignored the question and pushed the blonde back.

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"What?"

"You never tease me anymore. You seem concerned. You watch me during class. You aren't yourself…" Harry leaned against the stone wall, needing something to help hold him up. Draco's eyes narrowed in anger at the statement.

"Ha, so much for bloody trying to be nice to someone."

"I'm not saying it's -,"

"You just said you don't like it!"

"Don't twist my words, Draco!"

"Potter, clearly you are insane. You are trying to push away someone who just doesn't want you to get hurt!" Draco nearly shouted as his face became flushed – in embarrassment at his own words, and in frustration. Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, barely believing he just heard those words. 'From my very own precious arshole, no less.'

"Harry…" Draco bit his lip as he stepped forward, touching Harry's hip with his hand.

"Harry, just tell me what happened…" He moved his other hand to Harry's side as well, and pulled him close. Harry leaned his forehead on Draco's shoulder, feeling tired and hopeless.

"Ron," Harry sighed, and felt Draco's whole body tense up. A second later, Draco pulled back and looked into Harry's face.

"We need to talk about the other night."

"No we don't."

"Yes, we do… I think that I -,"

"I said we aren't having this discussion!" Harry growled.

"But I think that it is important to -," Draco almost yelled in frustration as he was cut off once more.

"NO!" Harry turned to leave, but the Slytherin caught his arm. With barely any effort at all Harry flung him off and stormed down the corridor towards the Gryffindor common room. He did not want to deal with this – with Draco, on top of losing his friends, having no where to eat meals, and moving into a separate room. How come his life just couldn't be normal…? Draco tried calling after him, but he paid no attention.

Draco looked up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes, feeling desperate. He actually got up the courage to speak to Harry about what had happened, and then the Gryffindor had blown him off. He needed to tell Harry how he felt, and he needed to know what was going on inside of Harry's head – but then again maybe so soon wasn't a good idea.

Feeling frustrated was never exactly fun. But then again, feeling confused was no better.