Towards the on-coming Christmas break, the snow fell heavy at Smeltings, making it impossible for track and field to practice outside, so they ran laps through the halls of the building. Harry ran three miles every day with the rest of them, still with his glasses off, to keep up his strength.
Coach hadn't once tried to get him to take the physical and compete, which Harry was glad about. Then again, he was still only average in his speed compared to the other seven top contenders.
He was getting better at his classes, but again, he was only barely average. It wasn't like at Hogwarts, where talent was judged on spell work instead of grades. He had to admit, though, that not practicing magic left him more time to learn bookwork and study. He wondered how Hermione had always found time for both.
He rarely saw Pete, but whenever he did he got these butterflies in his stomach that reminded him of sex. It was a feeling he both hated and wanted, because it made him begin to think past his night with Ron, and towards a future of some kind.
Still, though, Harry hadn't tried to make friends or get to know anyone, not even Kenny, really. He was told by Dudley one weekend at the Dursleys that the reason still no one talks to him is because he has an angry expression on his face most of the time. Harry denied it at the time, but truth be told his face hurt with how stiff and crunched up it was, and yet he didn't know how to change that.
Christmas was almost here. Harry had been at Smeltings for almost two months now. He hadn't accomplished much of anything, and lately he was feeling trapped within these walls. He wanted to escape. He wanted to leave.
They had just one more day of finals left and Harry so far hadn't been impressed with his work on the tests, but then, he hadn't been playing a Muggle for long. Kenny gave him a long lecture about putting in some major studying over the holiday to prepare for his return.
"You're such a bummer, Harry! I don't know why you haven't been kicked out sooner! Clarkson would have kicked anyone else out already!"
"Maybe he's just a nice guy," Harry said as he glared right back at Kenny's stubborn face.
"No, he just feels sorry for you."
It was a low blow, but it didn't affect Harry too badly; he knew Headmaster Clarkson was under a spell to keep Harry here and safe, and so it didn't matter how bad he was – even if he studied his brains out – Clarkson was going to keep him. Kenny, also, didn't feel even a little sorry he said this. He tisked once, harshly, at Harry and faced away from him.
Harry felt a little bad now, because Kenny had become rather an important person to him the past few weeks.
"I know you're trying…" Harry whispered.
"And I know you're trying, too, but if you keep this up, it'll be like you don't care about anything anymore."
Harry shifted in place as he thought about that. "I do care."
"Not about anything important," Kenny said practically.
"That's not true…" Harry did care about a lot of things. Kenny was on that list, he supposed. Not that he would tell him. He cared about his family: his aunt who kept him company when he went home for the weekends, and his uncle and how hard he fought to get Harry into this school, and about Dudley and all the fights he fought for Harry's sake. "I care about a lot of people," Harry said firmly.
Kenny just eyeballed him evilly over his notebook. Harry sighed and turned back to his own book, clicking his mechanical pencil to give him more lead so he could doodle a few more teeth into his dragon drawing's mouth.
He fell asleep fretting about tomorrow, and had a horrible nightmare about Sirius. The whole time he was terrified and trying everything he could to save him, but still he was just out of reach. And then a big surprise happened, because suddenly his body was so sweaty and his heart raced so much. Harry held onto the memory of Sirius as tightly as he could, even as it began to fade and he began to feel rough hands on him, shaking him, and a deep voice calling his name softly. He still felt like he was in his dream, and he began to fight off Kenny's hands.
Angry, disoriented, looking around at the darkness in confusion, he pushed past Kenny and stumbled to the door, tugging and struggling with the door handle, but it remained locked.
"Let me out! Let me out!" he begged, weak and shaky.
He needed to find Sirius – no – he needed to avenge Sirius – no…
Harry shook the handle until Kenny slipped by him and unlocked it, opening it. It swung towards him and Harry stared out the open door at the dark passageway with all the other dorm doors on either side.
He finally was fully aware of where he was, but still the pain pumped through his veins. He looked over at Kenny, who was staring at him like he was seeing a ghost for the first time, and then Harry left him standing there and quick-paced out of there into the dark hall.
He didn't know where he was going, but when he made it to the bathroom and locked himself in a stall, he finally knew he was looking for somewhere safe. He put the toilet lid down and pulled his legs up onto the seat, then let the darkness return. After that, the next thing he knew he was listening to someone banging something loudly nearby.
He opened his eyes and found he was curled up on the closed lid of a toilet, locked in, and resting on his arms that were nearly frozen to the porcelain backing.
Outside, someone said to someone else, "Go get Kenny; tell him I found Potter."
The pounding didn't resume, so in Harry's frozen, shirtless state, he closed his eyes and wished for just the blackness to return. It was all too soon that the knocking resumed more softly. It was Kenny.
"Harry? You missed finals, you know? It's already lunch time. Open the door, okay? Let us in."
He knocked on the door again and then there were whispers on the other side. Harry shut his eyes tightly and tried to ignore it, hating it all. He tried to let the cold devour his body so he wouldn't have to remember just how lonely he was. No Sirius, not any more. No Ron, not any more. Nothing.
"What's going on?" A new voice asked, only this one sounded a little familiar.
"Potter's in there. He won't come out. He missed classes all morning."
"Maybe I can try," said Pete, stepping forward and knocking lightly on the door. "Harry? It's Pete. Remember me? We met your first week here. Want to open the door for me?"
Harry raised his head and looked over. He did rather want to see Pete – he'd been looking at him from across rooms for nearly two months now.
"Harry?" Pete said urgently again.
The latch was right there, so Harry reached a cold, thin and bare arm over and pulled the lock. There was a loud click and the door swung inwards by Pete's hand, and he was there with a hot hand against his cold shoulder, like he'd done that first day they'd met.
"Hey, Harry. What's going on? Just couldn't put down a really good magazine?"
Harry shook his head minutely, too weak to answer. Pete looked over his shoulder and gave Kenny a look Harry didn't see, and right away Kenny squeezed into the tight stall and helped Pete pull Harry to his feet and out into the bathroom that was filled with about a dozen other boys, all from Kenny's and Pete's inner circles.
Pete stood him still and Harry shivered in the cold room that never did get the right amount of heat for this frozen time of year, and he looked up the inch it took to meet Pete's eyes. He had always thought of Pete as tall, but they were really close to being the same height.
Pete had a worry crease in his brow and said, "You're lips are blue."
The only response Harry had to that was to reach for the back of his neck and pull him in for a soft kiss.
There were a few startled sounds that escaped the people in the room, but Harry only had a mind for the mouth he was pressed against. Pete didn't struggle against him at all; what he did do was pull his school jacket off and slide it around and up Harry's back, pulling it tightly around his neck and body. This motion broke the kiss, which was fine with Harry, who folded his arms and brought the warm jacket closer.
"Let's get you to the doctor," Pete said, gently pushing him towards Kenny, who looked a little confused as he led him – with a hand on his shoulder – out the bathroom to get some help. The whole way to the doctor's, Pete and Kenny had a hand on him for support. These two were such a strong presence that Harry began to forget he'd ever felt quite as lonely as he had before.