Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me.

Author's Note: I think this chapter's going to take a while, as I have literally no idea what I'm going to write. Wish me luck, I'm going in!

A/N 2: Thanks to anyone who's reviewed, or read this! My hit count for last chapter really startled me.

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On Tuesday evening, Harry was discharged from the hospital wing, feeling completely recovered physically and with a great weight lifted from his heart. He quickly discovered that he was the talk of the school, something he was quite used to by now.

As he walked through the corridors, getting closer to the Great Hall, he realised that different people were talking about him for different reasons. He could have sworn that he had just heard some Slytherin fourth-years discussing how he could never have beaten Malfoy to the Snitch if he didn't happen to have a faster broom than Malfoy's. On the other hand, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws he met all congratulated him on his catch, and asked if he was OK now. Naturally, his fellow Gryffindors were thrilled at winning the match. In fact, when Harry entered the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor table, everyone seemed to want to sit next to him. Smiling graciously, he took his usual seat next to Ron and Hermione.

"Hi guys," he greeted them, as he began loading his plate with food. "How much have I missed?"

Ron grinned. "Everyone thinks you're a hero, your Firebolt's back in the dormitory – it's perfectly OK, by the way – and you didn't miss much in lessons." He paused to eat a mouthful of mashed potato. "We looked at the Mexican Biting Bush in Herbology, you can copy my notes if you want. Flitwick had us revising a load of old stuff in Charms – he got a bit delayed by the fact that quite a few people couldn't do a Summoning Charm, so you won't have to catch up too much…" He, Harry and Hermione caught each other's eyes and grinned. They were all remembering the time in fourth year when Harry had summoned his Firebolt from the dormitory to the Quidditch pitch. "And Lupin seemed a tiny bit… out of it yesterday. He had us reading out of the textbook for most of the lesson."

Harry's worried look matched those on Ron and Hermione's faces. Something was definitely up with Professor Lupin.

"Transfiguration was boring, again, my notes are fully at your disposal." Ron continued. "And I think I fell asleep in History of Magic, so I can't help you there."

Hermione frowned at him. "Typical!" She turned to Harry. "Snape spent most of the lesson being a total idiot as per usual, so you won't have much to catch up on."

"Oh yeah," Ron added suddenly, "everyone's saying how great you are for giving Malfoy a concussion. Congratulations on that, mate. Everyone's been laughing at him 'cos Pansy Parkinson's dumped him as well."

"What?" Harry burst out. "HE dumped HER! I was there - it was this morning. He told her there was someone else and she went for him. That's why he's still in there. I think she really hurt him – her nails are not to be messed with."

Ron burst out laughing. "She attacked him? Oh God, that's a good one, we can really use that against him."

Hermione, however, was looking thoughtful. "Who d'you think the other woman is, then?"

"Yeah!" Ron said suddenly. "I mean, who'd be dumb enough to go out with Malfoy, apart from Pansy?" He choked on his peas. "Oh crap, I bet it's Millicent Bulstrode!"

Harry forced a laugh, despite the fact that he had never felt less like laughing in his life.

Within minutes, Ron had spread the news about Pansy attacking Malfoy right down the table. A few minutes later, Harry looked up sharply when he heard the rest of the Gryffindor table burst into hysterical laughter. He quickly saw the source of their mirth: a slightly battered-looking Malfoy had just entered the hall. He joined in with the laughter, but at the same time, he caught Draco's eye for the briefest of moments. In that one look, another meeting was arranged.

It was about eleven o'clock when Harry finally slunk out of Gryffindor tower in his Invisibility Cloak. Again, he was heading for the Room of Requirement.

About five minutes later, he was sitting in an armchair (he had learnt his lesson with the sofa) when Draco entered. Harry leapt to his feet when he came in, if only from shock at how God-awful Draco looked. He was pale and had the traces of several nasty scratches on his face. He flopped into the chair closest to the door, looking absolutely drained.

"What's wrong?" Harry murmured, perching on the arm of Draco's chair.

"Pansy, among other things," Draco said in a hoarse voice, almost closing his eyes.

"You look knackered," Harry said, none too tactfully.

Draco laughed a little. "Make me feel better why don't you?"

"Sorry." Harry slid off of the arm of the chair and knelt on the floor by the chair, his head roughly on a level with Draco's. "Want to talk about it?"

Draco shook his head. "Too tired."

Harry nodded understandingly and hugged him.

The two of them did not remain in the room for long. Draco clearly had next to no energy left, and Harry did not want to tire him further. Soon, they went their separate ways. Harry made his way back to Gryffindor tower, worried sick about Draco.

This worry soon paled into oblivion, however. At last, Harry climbed through the portrait hole, only to find Hermione waiting for him in the common room.

"Hi Harry," she said in a grim tone. "Hope you don't mind me asking, but where the bloody hell have you been?"

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Author's Note: Well, what do you think? Should Harry tell her the truth or not? Should Draco come out of the closet? (Good God, a gay Slytherin, Salazar would be furious).