Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I know, I took FOREVER. Poison me now. I'm sorry! I was just so busy with stupid school & then was suffering from slight writer's block. Curse it. (sigh) But here it is... chapter 18. It's not THAT long... but long enough, I hope. Haha. Thanks for all the reviews, as usual! You guys rock.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

I Don't Want To Feel

Chapter Eighteen

--

I'm sorry for the person I became.

--

Over the next few days, the Malfoy's saw nothing of Harry. Food was delivered to his room three times a day, and he stayed locked up in there. Lucius was confused as to why, but didn't really have time to bother. Narcissa, however, knew exactly why. She knew that somehow, her words had gotten to him. It was an arrogant thought, of course, but strangely enough, she was right.

Harry had been affected by her words. As much as he tried to deny it.

It seemed that that was all he did these days. Deny, deny and deny. Everything.

He denied being in love with Draco.

Didn't he?

He wasn't even sure anymore. His life was just one big blur of denial now.

He stared at the fading mark on his arm, stroking it softly. He began to look back on his life, year by year, and wondered where exactly he had gone wrong.

Or really, what had he done wrong?

Pushing his friends away? Joining the Dark? Killing Voldemort? Leaving Hogwarts?

Leaving Draco?

How was he supposed to know? How was he supposed to decide what was right and what was wrong?

He couldn't. And that was why he was sitting there, all alone in a dark room, stroking the tattoo on his arm. The tattoo that symbolized the purest evil.

Soon, another hour had passed and a familiar sound rang in Harry's ears. A haunting tune reached Harry's ears as Narcissa began to play the piano, and Harry covered his ears to block it out. For some reason, it bothered him more than it should have. It bothered him a lot.

He got up off the chair he had been sitting on and began to walk around the dark room. He made his way towards the dark wooden desk in the far corner and sat on the elegant chair that partnered it. During his stay, he'd stayed away from the desk, but his mind had always wondered if anything was kept inside it. He had been able to hold off his curiousity, but at a time like this, he needed something; anything, to distract himself.

He began to pull open the drawers, his heart sinking lower and lower as he was met by an empty space each time. It was in one of the bottom drawers, however, that Harry found a beautiful box.

A beautiful box filled with pictures, newspaper clippings and a journal.

Draco's journal.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Draco sat on the ground next to the lake, staring out as the sun set in the distance. Although the boy had let Draco down in the harshest way possible, Harry Potter had taken over Draco's mind. He was all Draco could think about.

All the memories. All the moments. All the questions.

Where was he? Why did he fake it?

Did he fake it?

As much as Draco wanted him back to hit him and yell at him, he also wanted to just throw his arms around him and cry on his shoulder.

Draco scowled.

The fool had turned him into a blubbering female. And the worst part was; Draco didn't really mind. He had fallen hard; and he was angry that Harry couldn't see that. Couldn't understand that. Couldn't... feel the same way.

"Where are you, Harry?" Draco whispered at the setting sun, completely oblivious to the footsteps approaching behind him. It was only when Remus Lupin stood next to him that Draco noticed his presence.

"May I join you?" Remus questioned softly, looking down at the blonde. Draco swallowed, speechless, and just nodded. There was a short silence, as Draco picked a stick up off the ground and began to draw circles in the sand. Remus stared down at the circles, and sighed. "Beautiful night, isn't it?"

Draco cleared his throat. He still hadn't looked up at his former professor.

"They're not really bothering with Harry, are they?"

Remus blinked in surprise at the sudden question.

"I--"

"They lost him to some Death Eaters, and it's over."

"Tha--"

"I'm not a child; I understand what's going on. Nobody wants to help a Death Eater."

"Draco...it's impossible to find him. With Voldemort gone--"

"Nobody wants to find him."

"I do."

There was a short silence.

"But that's not enough, is it?" Remus whispered, and Draco bowed his head. "Everybody believes Harry went on his own free will--and like you said, nobody wants to help a Death Eater."

"You think he was taken against his will?" Draco questioned, drawing harder into the sand. There was another short silence.

"No."

Draco shivered. He knew that Harry had gone on his own will; but he had secretly hoped it wasn't true. Somehow, hearing it from someone else just confirmed the thought. Remus stared down at the shaken young man, who had subconsciously began to draw a heart instead of a circle.

"You really love him, don't you?"

Draco's hand froze, and he quickly stood up.

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm not blind."

Draco's eyes dropped to the ground, catching sight of the heart he had scratched into the sand. His eyes misting over, he shook his head as if to deny the question and will the tears away.

"I thought I did."

He kicked at the drawing and walked away, leaving Remus to stare at the broken heart on the ground.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Aiden's gone.

Was all the journal read. On the last page, in very child-like writing. The rest of the parchment was filled with drawings.

Drawings of clouds, snakes, trees...and two little boys. Two blonde stick figures with huge smiles on their faces.

Harry moved on to the photographs, most of which contained the same two smiling boys. Waving at the camera, chasing each other across a lush, green garden, playing on swings. The dates went in near chronological order...until they stopped abruptly. The last picture was of a little blonde boy opening presents on what appeared to be his birthday.

Overwhelmed, Harry placed the pictures aside and picked up an old newspaper clipping.

More Ministry Raids; An Heir's Tragic Death

As the ever-cautious Ministry continues their raids on the homes of families suspected to have been involved with the Dark Lord, tragedy has finally struck. During the search of the prestigious Malfoy Manor, an innocent search turned into a deadly mistake as a fire began to burn in the Manor's east wing. While the Ministry was not available for comment as to exacly how the fire started, it can be confirmed that while they had thought nobody had been in that area of the house, Aiden Malfoy, 11, heir to the Malfoy name, was found a few hours later, severely burned and dead. We can say for sure that nothing incriminating was found in the Manor, and while the family should be relieved that they passed the Ministry's testing, they should be torn between grief and anger as to what the Ministry has caused to their family.

Harry dropped the note in horror, his eyes misting over. Draco had highlighted the name Aiden Malfoy, and had underlined the word 'dead' in red.

He must have been about seven.

Harry picked up a letter addressing Draco, and read the first few lines.

Dearest brother,

Hogwarts is amazing! It's more than everything we ever imagined. I am in Slytherin, of course, and have met quite a few friends. I miss the Manor though, and can barely wait to return there this Winter. Father tells me I should stay my first Christmas here in school, as to get used to everything, but I refuse. I need to see you soon, Draco--everything is so quiet without you around. It's so different.

Harry glanced at the article and his heart sank. The fire had happened during the Christmas break.

He began to place everything back in the box, suddenly feeling very sick. He remembered his days in the dungeon with Draco, and all their talks. Hadn't Draco once told him that even though some things are easy to forget, some of your guilt and regret will loom over you for the rest of your life?

He couldn't have been talking about that--could he?

Harry felt terrible. The images of two little boys running around, giggling, played through his mind over and over. He ran to the bathroom, lifting the toilet seat just in time to empty his stomach into it. Coughing, sweat mingling with tears, Harry fell back onto the floor, regret pouring over him, through him, and all around him.

Hadn't Draco always told him that he understood how he felt? How he felt without Sirius?

For the first time since he had left Draco, Harry cried.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, tears pouring down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

He sobbed and sobbed until he cried himself to sleep on the cold tile floor.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Please please review & tell me what you think. Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long! Thanks a million for reading-- hope you're not bored of me yet!