Disclaimer: I wish I did, but I don't. Don't sue.

A/N: I will be responding to reviews individually... I'm too lazy to post them all here seeing as it's almost midnight and I have school tomorrow. However, I will say this: I'M SO SORRY! I'm sorry this took so friggin long to come out. With school, my friends back home, my dad, my mom, me getting overly depressed at random times. And my allergic reaction to my pain killers today (couldn't breath) I've just been all over the place. A gay friend of mine was beaten up last week. The week before that my friend's brother's ex-girlfriend put a hit on my friend's brother. So they beat his us with a metal baseball bat and he's in ICU... Goodness, I'm so frazzled. Bear with me, updating might be slow but know that I'm trying. School ends for me in a month so once summer starts my speed of updating will be MUCH faster. Thanks for stinking with me and thank's FoundersChild1 for being such a great reviewer.

Love Through a Crisis

When Harry woke up the next morning he felt horrible. He hadn't felt this horrible in years. He felt as though he could throw up and his body ached all over, his throbbing head, the worst of all. He imagined that this would be how it felt to have a hangover.

He stayed lying in bed, wondering what could have made him feel so completely and utterly horrible. It was a few minutes later when the events after school came barreling back into Harry's mind. The dangerous gleam in Mr. Richard eyes, the heeling of his fingers as they whispered across this skin, the warm breath against his neck and the chilling sound of his name from his mouth were just some of the memories that flashed across Harry's senses.

Harry felt as though he couldn't get out of bed. He wanted to crawl to the corner of the room, bury his head in this arms and sleep forever so the memories would vanish and he wouldn't have to deal with the self loathing he felt coursing throughout his body.

Now matter how badly he wanted to play hooky and spend the day wallowing in his sorrow he know he couldn't. He felt as though he'd be letting his parents down. He has been sick earlier this semester and now it was really catching up to him. He couldn't afford to miss anymore time at school. Getting good grades so he'd be about to get somewhere in life was his way of proving he was at least somewhat worthy of surviving the fatal car accident.

Harry began to collect himself as he slid from underneath the warmth of his covers. "Relax, just go numb. It's okay, this isn't really happening to you. You're just a guest in someone else's subconscious," he thought to himself as he prepared himself for classes to start.

DmHpDmHpDmHp

Throughout the whole day Hermione and Ron kept asking his if he was feeling alright, if he got enough sleep, if he was stressed out. He repeatedly had to reassure, not only them, but himself that he was okay. As the day dragged on and his last class AP Lit, began to come near his body began to tense, focus began to slip and his stress levels rose.

The more he told himself to calm down the more uncomfortable and panicked he felt. It felt as though he had insects inside of his stomach trying to claw and eat their way out from the inside. The closer his feet carried him tot the room the insects assaulted his stomach even more aggressively and the paler he became.

By the time he reached the door to the room he was dangerously close to hyperventilating. How could he be expected to face this man so soon after he kept asking himself. He was expected to tough it out and go on with his life, he expected it of himself.

So preparing to enter the room he chanted 'feel numb, detach yourself, just forget everything,' in he head until it held no meaning, the words were jumbled, and his eyes were dull.

Just before he could gain full confidence in himself to get through this class the door to the room opened and Mr. Richards came out as if looking for the last minute stragglers to heard them into their seats before the bell rang.

Just as he thought he was getting himself under control a huge brick wall came and blocked out everything except those dark eyes set upon him. The shivers that ran through him at that moment had nothing to do with the chilliness of the hallway or the soft caress of a lover as they gazed lovingly into your eyes. These shivers were totally filled with uneasiness, discomfort, and worst of all, fear for the man in front of Harry. They seemed to radiate power and corruptness.

A smile spread across Mr. Richards' face as Harry stood there frozen to the spot.

"Come on in Mr. Potter," he spoke, not quite with the same authority that he had used the day before but it was enough to make goose bumps prickle on Harry's skin. For a moment, Harry's eyes strayed from the eyes of his teacher and scanned the hallway as though contemplating the idea of skipping this class and darting down the hallway from where he had come. An itching feeling in his feet began grating on his nerves, telling to run, and run now! On the other hand, his brain was telling his that he needed to tough it out and get into class so he does not fail this class and therefore, fail out of Hogwarts. Trapped between the two, all he could do was stand and stare.

"Get in here now, Harry," Mr. Richards spoke in a deadly calm voice, smile erased from his face and harshness laced in his voice.

Immediately, as if in a trance, Harry took steps forward and past Mr. Richards and his hungry stare, into the room full of teens.

Today, Harry knew, he was supposed to sit with his project partner for this term, Draco Malfoy. So after he enters the room his eyes immediately scanned for Draco. Quickly, he found the white blond hair that stood out so easily from the crowd and made his way towards it without hesitation. Taking his seat and placing his books on the desk he then realized that his hands were shaking. He lifted his hands from his desk and held them us to his eye level. Both pale, slim hands shook until he noticed movement to his left. He took a glace and noticed Draco Malfoy staring at him. Quickly, he put his hands down into his lap and Draco just rolled his eyes and popped his gum loudly. Focusing his attention back to the front of the room, Harry uneasily set his eyes on Mr. Richards.

"As you all know, today we will be drawing out of this hat to decide the topics for you projects. Let me remind you that these subjects are very serious and if they hit too close to home you can talk to me after class and we'll talk about a new subject. I will call your name and after you will draw from the hat. Once you have received you topic you may begin working. Pansy Parkinson, you may come up," Mr. Richards began.

Harry was tense. He had never really had a conversation with Draco let alone been expected to work with his for a months time. He didn't know what to expect, would he be rude? Would he slack off and do none of the project? Would he do the whole project alone because he though Harry would make mistakes? Would he completely ignore Harry? By the time Mr. Richards was halfway through his list Harry was a nervous wreck, and when Draco started speaking to his he almost tumbled out of his chair.

"I'll be the one to pick the subject, I don't care if he calls your name or not. I'll go up," he said in his rumbling low voice.

'He has no idea the stress he just saved me from,' Harry thought. As if on cue Mr. Richards called Harry's name and Draco rose swiftly from his seat beside Harry.

As Draco made his was to the front of the room Harry sunk lower in his seat. He took his time to observe Draco. Draco was wearing white and green Etnies, which a lot of people seemed to like this year that Harry didn't have, regular blue jeans that hugged his waist and butt snuggly and became loose at the bottom and a green Element shirt. His white blond hair was longish and shaggy and covered half of his eyes. His eyes were what caught everyone's attention. They were the color of melted steel and drew you in with a simple glance. They seemed to grow larger and more intense until the covered a good portion of your vision. At least that was what Harry though until he realized Draco had come back and was giving Harry a strange look. Instantly upon realizing this Harry averted his eyes and felt his cheeks flush pink, he could only hope it was a light pink.

"S-so," Harry stuttered. "What's our project going to be on?"

"I drew the card child molestation," Draco said, leaning back in his chair.

Harry froze and shivered. He know what child molestation was and he also know that what happened the day before with Mr. Richards sounded and awful lot like child molestation.

'But,' he thought, 'it was different. It had to be.'

It was consensual and it was for the good of his grade. If it was for the good of his grade there wasn't much he shouldn't or wouldn't do. He wouldn't betray his parents like that. And if that meant he had to suffer a little, so be it.

Harry was soon brought out of his thoughts by the platinum blond sitting next to him.

"Let's get this over with and begin brainstorming. Get out a sheet of paper so we can start writing."

Harry quickly complied, dropping his pencil only twice because of shaking hands. He eventually got himself under enough control that he had a firm grip on the pencil. He wrote the word 'Molestation' at the top of the page and made his first bullet for notes. The word looked odd in his scrawny handwriting. It popped off the page too much and looked like it was spelled wrong even though he made sure to spell it correctly. He was about to scribble over it and rewrite it when Draco Malfoy, again, brought him from his thoughts.

"Potter, don't worry about your handwriting, you can be OCD about it later. Now, were going to brainstorm as much as possible so we can get this stupid project done with quickly and painlessly. For the first bullet write down that molestation mostly occurs with children," and so on the brainstorming went, Harry adding some here and there, but Draco doing most of the thinking.

As time went on and more and more facts were written Harry began to ease up. His back began to slouch, he didn't feel as though he had to hold his stomach in, he didn't fear people hearing his uneven breath, and his face relaxed. He thought, all in all, things were going pretty well. Mr. Richards had kept his distance, grading papers at his desk and scanning the room every few minutes, and Draco was being civil to him and not making him feel like less of a person than he already felt like.

All was well, that is, until Draco mentioned something that struck a nerve with Harry and the events of the night before.

"Molestation is different from rape," Draco paused to make sure Harry was following, "Rape is when someone is completely against and unwilling to have sex with their attacker. Molestation is when the victim is convinced into believing that it's okay to be touched or used sexually. Molesters gain the trust of their victims and use the innocence of their victims to their advantage. The abused usually want to justify the abuser and their reasons for committing a sexual act together," Draco paused and looked at Harry who had this complete blank look on his face. "Did you catch that?" he asked in an arrogant tone, thinking Harry had just zoned out on him. "Do I have to go slowly and repeat myself so you can comprehend what I'm saying?" he asked, getting more aggravated.

It was then that he started to actually look at the boy sitting next to him. His raven hair looked messier than usual, patched going every which way and the ends looked split, like we needed a haircut soon. His skin was pale, making his lightning shaped scar stand out, and his cheeks were a deep rosy red. His lips were dry and cracked, pleading for chapstick. In the oversized clothes he wore everyday he looked even smaller then he actually was, and that wasn't very big to begin with. It was then that he noticed his eyes. They were will a vivid green, different then any others and somehow not the same as they usually were. There appeared to be a hazy glaze right over them as he stared into the nothingness of the tiled classroom floor. Suddenly his breathing sped up, his body started trembling and his arms crossed in front of his stomach as he doubled over. Before anyone even had him to react or call attention to the shaking boy he was out of his seat and sprawled across the floor, eyes closed and unmoving.

That was when the class went into a panic.