Harry did not know how much time had passed as he lay on the bed, listening to good ol' blue eyes churn out the tunes and smoking when a disturbance on the lower level made him jump up in alarm. He sat on the bed, eyes bulging, beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. He listened to the footsteps walk around under him. Terrified he slowly moved off the bed and picked up his trainers from the floor. Just as he was pulling them on the footsteps starting moving up the stairs. Closer…and closer. Harry stumbled clumsily into the closet. Shit! This was a very bad situation to be caught in. He waited listening. The person entered the bedroom and walked to the record player, and switched it off. They took in a long breath, like a dog sniffing the air for a squirrel to chase. "Who's there?" Harry thought it better not to answer. Then to Harry's dismay the figure walked slowly towards the closet. "I know you're in here somewhere-you're ashes are still hot!" This is it, I'm finished, thought Harry. They'll find me and I'll be expelled for sure for leaving school grounds. What if they have a gun? He got his wand ready to strike and thought up the best spell he knew to help make a quick escape when a knock was at the door. The person stopped in their tracks. After a long moment and several more knocks on the door to be the only thing breaking the intense silence they seemed to decide the door was more urgent and hurried downstairs.
Harry made his move. As fast as he could manage he ripped off the nightie and finished pulling up his pants. He heard the voice downstairs yell, "NO! Infact I would NOT like to help disabled orphans go to school!" and slam the door shut. They began stomping back up the stairs, cursing all the while. Harry ran to the window, threw it open and leapt out into the night sky. He plummeted downwards into a thick mass of rose bushes and stifled a yell as he felt the thorns scratch at his body, drawing blood. About him the stranger stuck his head out the window and swung his head madly trying to see the intruder. Harry did not breathe. Giving up they grunted in frustration, "If you ever come into my house again uninvited I'll call the police!" and slammed it shut again.
Harry began running down the street. He had to get back. Surely someone had noticed just how late the hour was, and that he had not yet returned. Suddenly he did not care that he was half naked and full of blood in the middle of a muggle town. Surely, someone HAD to have noticed me gone… After entering the wizarding world Harry had become so accustomed to being in the spot light he had grown to expect people's attention. But now who cared about the famous Harry Potter? Not Ron and Hermione who were probably too busy snogging at this very moment to realize his absence. Not Ginny who'd given up on him so long ago. And certainly not Draco Malfoy. Crap. He'd promised himself not to think about him. Draco and his way of smirking, the way his arms so provocatively reenacted Harry's blunders to his fellow Slytherins. As he walked on he thought of every time they'd spoken, of the sweet smell of temptation that lingered on Draco's breath. Harry did not even notice that he'd reached Hogsmeade, and was absent minded as he entered the tunnel back to Hogwarts. He floated on down the corridors until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and bumped straight into her. "Oh, oh Harry, have you come for a midnight 'play session'?" she slurred to him in her most "seductive" tone.
Harry scowled, upset that someone had ruined his reminiscing, "You've been drinking again."
"I most certainly have not!" She retorted as some wine sloshed from her glass down her front.
Harry sighed, "Horse feathers."
"If you say so," the portrait swung open in mid eye roll.