Chapter 2:Left Alone

A/N: Sorry about how long it took for me to get this chapter up…but there was a friend's death, I have to go shopping and make preparations for my sister's and mine B'not Mitzvah, and I SERIOUSLY needed a shopping spree. I had like, one pair of pants I liked. Sorry about the lame excuses, but I don't really want to find myself decapitated by angry readers.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything. I am basking in her glory when I write about her characters.

Thoughts are italic.

xxxevilxxx: Yeah, the credit card, and the Child Welfare (look at the review under yours)… I will try to make it seem more magical.

darkmoon-on-dragonwings: Thanks for the review, hope you are not too disappointed that this chapter is partly in Harry's POV. I know I should have used some sort of equivalent, something like Wizard Welfare, or something that doctored up FBI, but things along those lines are only popping into my head now.

Sarkywoman: You and I think alike!

Two weeks into school:

Harry POV:

What it must be like to be them. I watched as my two best friends, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, strolled down the passageway that led to the Great Hall where lunch was being served, hand in hand, oblivious to their classmates, teachers, and friends. Leaving me, like everyone else. My seventh year was turning out to be, well, shit. Ever since the beginning of sixth year, after everyone knew what I had done and how my godfather ended up dead, people had been ignoring me, avoiding me altogether. It was as if Neville had suddenly become the Savior, not me.

I wish. "No! I would not wish that on anyone. Not even Malfoy…" I whispered loudly, receiving some looks that clearly said, "I think that you're off your rocker. Freak."

"Talking about me, Potter?" Draco Malfoy sneered. I was shocked, at first. The Malfoys always seemed to be popping out of nowhere.

"Leave alkasdjf me ladk the fuck aljfkdf alone." I grumbled incomprehensibly. I started to walk away, but a firm grip on my bicep pulled me back, nearly tripping me. "Watch it!" I shouted.

"This is not over." Draco hissed, glancing pointedly at Professor Trelawney, who was striding down the hall. I simply shrugged—I didn't have time for his petty fights. I had bigger fish to fry. My life was (is) going down the drain. It was hard to keep up the happy, careless image everyone expected when what I truly wanted to do was to crawl under my covers with my knife, Askalade, and wish for Sirius.

"This is not over." Draco repeated. I gave him a cold glare, and stalked off toward the Great Hall, thankful that he did not try to stop me, because I might have fallen down. I was getting weak, in body and mind.

Lunch was a buffet fit for a king. There were hundreds of plates on the massive tables by the time I slipped into the room, unnoticed. I stared at my plate, which I had lazily added a sandwich to. However, peanut-butter-and-jelly made me feel sick, so I took an apple and a knife and started to peel it. I took the peelings and slowly nibbled at them.

I looked up from my plate, to where Hermione and Ron were feeding each other pieces of a banana. I sighed quietly, wishing that I could have that special someone that everyone else seemed to have found.

"Bye, guys. I'll talk to you later." I mumbled. The lovesick duo stopped what they were doing, and said their farewells, which were simply, "Bye…Harry." as if they forgot my name. They stared at me, not saying anything else, and when I stood up to leave, they instantly went back to their previous engagement.

The next class was Herbology, and lucky for me, it was Advanced Mandrake Lessons with the Slytherins. It was probably going to be the same lessons, only more homework. I wouldn't be surprised if Hermione had to accompany Neville to the Hospital Wing.

There was still another half-an-hour until classes began again, so I strolled casually down to the lake. It was a windy day, so the lake had graceful ripples.

I sat down next to a boulder to my left that was three times my size. I lied down, and gazed up at the sky, which was full of clouds. I was somewhat relaxed when I saw the varying shapes of the clouds. It was as if it took me away from the life that I live, that I hate, and put me up there with the clouds. I had no more worries, and it would have stayed that way if an arch-nemesis with a Prefect Badge had not disturbed me.

"Potter, move. Go to class." Draco said, and as he sat down two yards away, next to another boulder, it defeated the purpose of telling me to go to class. He didn't seem angry, not even irritated. It was more that he was tired, and needed to relax. Just like me. And if I don't give a damn that he's here, then he won't mind sharing the space either. As I predicted, Draco did not say another word, just sat, staring at the depths of the lake.

A look at my watch informed me that there was still fifteen minutes until class. I pulled out a bag of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, remembering that I had barely had any lunch, and though I was not hungry, Dumbledore would certainly get nosy if he saw that I was too weak. He hasn't noticed yet, I thought distractedly. My Gryffindor-ness was telling me that I should offer Malfoy some of my Beans.

"Hey Malfoy, you want some?" I shouted to him. He looked at me uncertainly, as if deciding whether he thought that I had contaminated them. "I didn't hex them. Look, I will eat one." I put one into my mouth, thankful that it was grass-flavored. I could handle that. I would have spit it out if it had been vomit-flavored—I had been getting too much of that taste in my mouth lately.

"Sure." he responded. At least that's what it sounded like; a flock of gulls screeching their lungs out had muffled his voice.

He stood up, and at that moment, it seemed like he was going to say thank you, but that would not have been appropriate for a Slytherin to say to a Gryffindor.

Draco sat down right next to meon his right, and after a moment's hesitation, he reached his hand out. I placed a bean in his hand that I knew, from experience, was grape-flavored. Why am I being so nice to the person who has been my tormentor for the last six years? Doesn't matter, I suppose. Nothing does.

He closed his eyes and popped it into his mouth with them still closed, as if preparing himself for the vomit flavor he was sure to taste. However, once he had it in his mouth, he opened his eyes and put on a sincere smile. "Grape is my favorite!" he exclaimed.

"Cool."

We sat there for another few minutes, not saying anything. I occasionally passed him a bean, or sometimes he asked for one. Once, I handed him a vomit one, just because I wanted to stir up some trouble once he had begun to relax. He took it confidently, and then his face contorted into a grimace once he tasted it.

I laughed heartily, an act I had not participated in since Sirius' death. Thinking of him, I immediately sobered, and Draco seemed concerned. For reasons unknown to me, he started a conversation.

"So, excited about the Quidditch season?" he asked.

I was baffled. Draco Malfoy, King of Slytherin, was making small talk with the Boy-who-lived. Very interesting.

"Um…I suppose. I haven't been following it lately because…" I trailed off. I was not about to tell my worst enemy that I had been moping in self-hatred and misery ever since I had gotten back to the Dursleys and had not bothered to owl Ron with questions of how the Chasers were doing.

"Okay…So are you still going to be on the Hogwarts team this year?" he questioned.

"I don't know. I guess I will. Can't have the Slytherins beating us, and only I can keep you buffoons in place." I joked.

"Ha. Anyone could replace you, like that little Weasel girl."

"M-hmm." I was distracted. Draco's two bodyguards were rounding the corner and coming towards us quickly. They could not see us because of the boulder, but I could easily see them from my point of view. "Your goons are coming, I better go." This would be the first time I had left someone.

Draco craned his neck and obviously saw them, for he nodded. I stood up, and began my walk back to the castle, keeping under the protection of the boulder. When I was two yards away, I heard Draco whisper, "Thank you." He must not have meant for me to hear it, or he would have said it louder. Pretending not to notice, I continued my journey back to the Gryffindor Tower to gather my materials for Herbology.

Draco POV (when he first sees Harry by the lake):

Oh, damn-it. I don't want to deal with him now. Why is he always in my way when all I want to do is relax? I thought, and then reminded myself that I was a Prefect. I can make him move.

I moved silently up to him, then said, "Potter, move. Go to class." It probably sounded weak and tired, but that's how I felt! Truthfully, he did not look too surprised. In fact, I started to wonder whether he had heard me. Well, fine with me. Just so long as he does not start to bitch with me. So, I sat down about two yards from him, next to an enormous rock. I stared into the lake, watching the subtle ripples come closer to the shore, then disappear, only to be replaced by other ones. It was quite hypnotizing, and I was very content. But then… "Hey Malfoy, you want some?"

That dimwit offered me a bean. How dumb did he think I was? He had probably hexed them to taste like vomit and then have them make you vomit. Nevertheless…I was sort of hungry, and what if he hadn't contaminated them? There were some good flavors in them…

My fears were diminished when he proceeded to eat one. He did not start vomiting, and he would not have eaten them himself if he had hexed them. "Sure," I responded. I strolled over to him, and sat down next to him. I hesitantly put out my hand; I still had my doubts—what if he knew what colors meant what, and was going to give me a vomit-flavored one? I closed my eyes, and stuck it into my mouth, readying myself for nausea. Instead, I tasted grape—my absolute favorite flavor! "Grape is my favorite!" I said happily.

"Cool." What kind of response was that?

Well, we sat there for some time, mostly silent, except when he offered me a bean, or when I asked for one.

Unfortunately, he must have known what flavors the colors represented.

I stuck my hand out, hoping for another grape, and then put the bean in my mouth. What greeted me was most certainly not grape. The vomit flavor I had dreaded was now filling my mouth. I scrunched my face up in a most unflattering way, just to show him my disgust.

He roared with laughter, and I was about to join him, when his face darkened. I was curious, but for some odd reason, concerned. At that moment, I felt that it was my duty, as a Malfoy, to make a conversation.

"So…are you excited about the Quidditch season?" I asked timidly.

"Um…I suppose. I haven't been following it lately because…" he stopped. I was growing more interested by the moment. Why had he not been following it? What had happened?

Not wanting to seem too nosy, I changed the subject slightly. Quidditch was a fairly safe subject. "Okay…are you still going to be on the Hogwarts team?" I silently hoped not, because if he was quitting, the Slytherins had a much better chance of winning the House Cup.

"I don't know. I guess I will. Can't have the Slytherins beating us, and only I can keep you buffoons in place." He kidded.

"Ha. Anyone could replace you, like that little Weasel girl." I countered.

"M-hmm." Huh? I just insulted you, and all you have to say is "M-hmm."? You agree?

"Your goons are coming, I better go." That explains it. Crabbe and Goyle are like fat shadows. I nodded, and he stood up, and started walking away. I was somewhat disappointed; I had been having a fun time. With my worst enemy?

"Thank you." I whispered. I did not really want him to hear it, I was just grateful to joke around with someone who was not totally absorbed with idiocy. All of the Slytherins were concerned with were winning the House Cup and how lame Gryffindors, muggles, and mudbloods were. It gets very boring. I honestly do not know how they stand each other.

He faltered for a moment, and I was worried that he had heard and would tease me, but instead he continued to walk away.

By the time he was out of view, Crabbe and Goyle had arrived. "Hey Draco, where were you at lunch? You left your plate full of food! I hope you don't mind, I finished it for you." Goyle said.

"I was bothered by your obese presence, so I left and came here." I replied.

"Oh…well, my mum doesn't think wizards should go on Atkins…sorry I bother you…" Goyle started. He was such a pussy.

"It's fine. I don't really care; I'm just not in the mood for it."

Goyle smiled at this, and patted me on the back (it turned out that a Concealment Charm working with a Glamour Charm covered up any facial cuts); wonderful, he was happy. I pleased the buffoon. Why was there no one intelligent to converse with?

"We should go back. We have Herbology next, with the Gryffindors. If we get there early, we can take all of the good earmuffs for the Slytherins, leaving the Gryffindors with the muffs with holes. With a lot of luck, Longbottom will go into a coma!" Crabbe declared.

"With the Gryffindors?" Magnificent. I was going to have to see Har-Potter once again. Why do I keep calling him Harry? Well, that is his name, but since when have we been on first-name basis?

"Yep." The dumbasses responded in unison.

Goyle to my left and Crabbe to my right, we started walking towards the Herbology Garden.

Harry POV:

Herbology started as I thought it would. We were working with partners to "further our knowledge of Mandrakes' eating habits," We were working in groups, and I had been paired with Ron, but Hermione ended up without a partner, so naturally, she was assigned to work with us. After only twenty minutes of working with the Mandrakes, Hermione was helping Neville get up from the floor and then taking him to the Hospital Wing. At this, the Slytherins looked very pleased. They had gotten to the Garden early and taken all of the good earmuffs, forcing us to use the torn ones.

That left me next to a jealous Ron, who was complaining that Professor Sprout was deliberately making Hermione go off on missions.

Soon after Neville and Hermione left, a Mandrake bit Pansy Parkinson through her glove. She was bleeding like crazy, but Draco, her partner, could not go because he was in charge of their assignment, and it had to get done. That was his excuse, but I think that he was just disgusted at the sight of blood. I would have offered to go, because I was not freaked out at the sight of blood, but Ron had his hand up faster before I even decided I would not mind going to the Hospital Wing with Pansy. Ron obviously wanted to see Hermione. He was out the door with Pansy in a matter of seconds.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, please work together, since your partners have left." We simultaneously groaned, and reluctantly moved towards each other.

I did not say anything about our civil encounter, and neither did he.

The rest of the day went by quickly; Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts…it all went by in a flash. Soon, it was time for bed.

I crept into the room, and then slid behind my curtains, expertly casting a Silencing Charm on them. I switched out of my school robes and into my pajamas, then lovingly pulled Askalade out of her box under my bed.

I gently picked her up. Escalade was a dagger I had bought two years ago, five days after Sirius' death. There was a beautiful handle. It was in the shape of a dragon's head and where the shape of fire-breath was present, it shone blood red. The blade was a long, sharp piece of steel. A rose was engraved on one side, and it slithered the entire way up the side of the knife.

I ran my thumb over the rose, and then began my routine.

I first slid my right sleeve up to my shoulder. Then, muttering an almost inaudible spell, I took off the Concealment Charm I almost constantly wore. My artwork littered my arm; a scratch or two on my wrist, a gash on my bicep, and some fading scars on my forearm. My left arm was next. Once the Concealment Charm came off, my other artwork was revealed. This arm was much more battered than the right one. I had cuts overlapping each other on my forearm, crossed cuts on my bicep, triceps, and even some on my shoulder. It was like a meadow of old relief—which needed to be revived!

I looked for a bare spot on my right arm, and upon finding it close to the inside of my elbow, I picked Askalade off of the bed, then swiftly slid her vertically on my arm, careful to avoid my artery. It was the most exhilarating experience, even though I had done it many times. The blood instantly formed in a pool, then sliding down to my wrist, tickling it. I watched as the crimson liquid spilled into my palm, and pulled my fingers together so that the blood stayed in a pool. I opened my fingers slowly, watching as my blood splashed to the bed. It was beautiful, and I wanted more.

I looked at my left arm, and decided that overlapping an old cut would be great. Double the blood. I picked a spot on my bicep, and jaggedly hacked at my flesh. Once again, my crimson fluid spilled out, and I let out a moan from the pleasurable pain. When my incision stopped bleeding, I cast a Concealment Charm on my arms, and a Cleaning Charm on the bed sheets. Luckily, most of my blood had fallen to the floor, and that did not stain.

I put Askalade down; I would clean her later.

I rolled down my sleeves and climbed into bed. The warmth I had felt when I was bleeding had faded away, and now I felt like Askalade had left me, just like everyone else. No. Askalade always comes back. Oh, great. I'm going insane! Talking to myself, talking about a knife as though it were human...Nah. Crazy people wouldn't realize it. I must be just fine. I chuckled at that thought. Yeah, right. Me, fine. That's why I cut myself.

Why do I do this to myself? Because it feels good.

My real reasons were that I felt so guilty, and no one could console me, mostly because no one ever talked to me. I wanted my parents back, and that just made me feel selfish and that made me full of more self-hatred. It was my fault that they were betrayed, that they were killed. Moreover, it was my fault that Cedric had died. I had wanted us to be equal, but I succeeded in getting him murdered, and losing the power I had over Voldemort. It used to be that if he touched me, his flesh would burn. But now…now I was unprotected around him, unless I could fend him off with magic. And because of my foolish decisions, Sirius was dead. And then, there was Vernon. He had once tried to rape me, but Petunia had come home. It would have ruined his reputation if he had been caught doing that. Petunia wouldn't give a damn, but she might have gossiped.

However, this summer would be different. I had read the muggle post, and in the obituaries, Petunia and Dudley's names were listed. Apparently there had been a car accident in which a drunk Vernon had slammed one side of the car into a gas truck. No one was in the truck, but Petunia and Dudley had been on the side of the car that had the impact. He was going to take his anger and grief out on me, and I didn't know how to stop him. Voldemort would get me if I left the house, Ron and Hermione were hardly my friends anymore, so I couldn't go to their houses, and I would surely lose my virginity and break a few bones if I stayed at the Dursley's. I just don't know what to do.

A/N: I hoped you liked that, but I might not be able to update in a while:

One, I'm working on starting another story.

Two, I have a lot of Jewish stuff to do (but I'm probably going to stay home on Thursday because I have a Mikvah at 4:00 PM in Squirrel Hill, and my mom has to get my sister from boarding school, so she thinks she'll let me stay home. I don't' really get why, but I'm not complaining if I'll get out of school.

Lastly, I need some ideas, or it will take me longer to get the next chapter up! So that means, REVIEW!