2- What's wrong with you?

When Harry arrived to the King Cross Station, he had a feeling of dread coming up in his stomach. He didn't want to meet anyone, but in the same time was eager to see and hear his friends.

It was the first time in a long while since he had arrived to the train station alone, so automatically he began to search the crowd for familiar faces, being now much taller, he could easily spot the patch of redheads moving erratically around.

He wasn't ready.

He didn't want to do it.

He wanted to go on and pretend they didn't exist.

He actually wanted to run away and join a circus.

Anything was better than having to face them.

Harry decided to go to the bathroom before boarding the train, so he pulled his trolley behind him and entered the public lavatory in hope of some cold water on his face.

While drenching his hands in the soothing feeling of water, Harry became aware of truly weird sounds coming from one of the cabins.

"Ooh, yeah, just like that. Don't stop. Argh…"

It was a man's voice and Harry turned around to see the cabin in question visibly rocking. Harry snorted. This was getting even more stupid.

"Gonna come… yesssss…"

And it stopped rocking. Some jingling of belts and zippers being done was heard and then the door opened.

Harry turned quickly around, turning off the tap and drying his hands and face.

It seemed that two males had emerged from the cabin. One exited immediately the other came to the sink that was next to Harry. He bent down and drank a bit from the faucet, then spit the water out and turned to Harry.

"Could you hand some of those towels over?"

Harry froze. He couldn't move. This was becoming even sillier with every moment.

"What the fuck is your- shit!" The man exclaimed, staring at Harry with an equally shocked expression and an inability to move for several seconds.

"Merlin, Potter, you have changed," staring back at him was none other than Draco Malfoy. And he was also looking quite different. His platinum blond hair was longer and not straight anymore, instead tousled with gel and he even had a nice looking piercing in the tip of his ear. And he was wearing Muggle clothes- a tight black shirt with the upper buttons opened, exposing his chest and collarbone, and hellishly tight black jeans with a low waistband, so that his hipbones were a bit visible while he moved. And to add to Harry's shock, Malfoy was wearing Converse All Stars. Muggle clothing did agree with him; in a weird sense he was looking hot, all his slender body wrapped in black, with an icing of white blondness and grey eyes that shot daggers.

"Now, how about that towel?"

Close to letting 'you're looking so freakin' hot that I suppose you will have dried off by now' spill, Harry quietly passed the paper towel.

"That was an interesting interaction you had there a moment ago, Malfoy," Harry had managed to compose himself.

"Actually, it seems ages ago now. Merlin, the time you took staring at me," the other boy dodged the sticky subject with great ease.

"You're pierced in the ear and wearing sneakers, it would shock even Dumbledore with no end. Do you plan on arriving in the Great Hall dressed like that? It would sure shake everybody up," Harry allowed himself a smirk, imaging what a sight could that be.

"Here here, there spoke the wise man, who finally has become aware how ugly those glasses were. Or maybe you became too vain after seeing how easy it is to get someone in deadly danger," Malfoy's voice became low and full of menace on the last few words.

"Do you want to continue as always? Or maybe grow up at some point. Because personally I don't really see any sense in wasting my breath on you, Death Eater Fairy," Harry passed the blond pain in the arse with a determination not to continue and board the train as quickly as possible because he had already had the bad feeling he might be missing the train.

But Malfoy pushed him from behind, Harry almost fell. He recovered quickly enough and slammed the other into the wall. He didn't have any time to give the boy the good beating he had been looking for, because Malfoy landed a solid punch on his nose and Harry stumbled back, loosing his grip on the smaller boy's forearms. His vision blurred, reminding him much of the time while he still had had bad eyesight.

"Who's the fairy now, huh? Do you feel all manly-like while being beaten up by a queer not the other way round, freaking homophobe," Draco Malfoy started yelling at Harry.

"Calm down! If we don't hurry, we might miss the train. Oh, and by the way, I'm not a homophobe. The emphasis was on 'Death Eater', but I guess it doesn't bother you much," Harry said and both of them in a moment of awareness exited the toilet.

"Yeah, because that's something I'm not," Draco muttered while the both of them ran to the entry to Platform 9 ¾, but there already was no train. It had left.

"Shit, fuck, fucking shit!" Harry shouted around. Malfoy stared at him as if he had lost his mind.

"Well, that's what you get for not being nice to me," he said, smirking shamelessly, seemingly not worrying about having missed the train.

Harry sat down on a bench, still cursing to himself. Then something occurred to him: "It's all your fault! If you hadn't been-"

"If I hadn't been what, Potter? Maybe start blaming me also for being the world's biggest idiot!" Malfoy now shouted right back.

"Oh, bugger off," Harry just turned away, and went back to the Muggle part of the station.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going? Feeling so great that you don't need to go to school anymore?" Malfoy's voice trailed after him.

"Well you can sit there and wait for the next train, I now better, that's not an option. I don't care, actually, what you do," Harry turned around and was walking backwards now.

Malfoy looked ready to set everything on fire. But his composure suddenly changed when Harry ran into an old lady trying to carry her struggling cat in a broken box. When the boy bumped into the woman, the lid dropped and the cat ran away screeching. The lady after him: "Pussy, come back, pussy, don't run away, pussy, you'll get lost with all those people around! Help, somebody, my pussy just ran away from me!"

Malfoy had doubled over and was laughing hysterically. He had a really pleasant and appealing laugh. His real laugh, without any malice at all. And he didn't seem able to stop. Soon he was out of breath, with a slightly flushed face, struggling not to giggle. But, to Harry's amazement, Malfoy was really giggling.

"Hey, everything okay?" Harry came over to where the smaller boy had dropped on his knees, unable to stop.

"Pussyhihi…hihihilarihihous," the blonde just continued to laugh, with pauses to catch some breath in an alarmingly loud manner so that Harry, and apparently all the other people in the station, began to think he was sick with asthma or something.

After a while Malfoy had regained his composure, as they both sat down on one of the benches.

"So, what does our genius intend to do?" he asked to the black haired wizard sitting next to him and thinking of something far, far away.

Harry then turned to him and grinned like a maniac: "What else to do, we're going to fly."

--

They had both magically shrunk their trunks, shoved them into their pockets and Harry had left Hedwig fly on her own to Hogwarts. It had been a frustrating moment to find some place for take off, that was not surrounded by Muggles.

Surprising enough, Malfoy had known some kind of a glamour charm to make people ignore them, Harry had wondered why on earth would anyone want to learn a charm like that in their free time, but remembering the boy's sexual preference, he realized it could come in handy.

It was indeed a real joy to be flying again; Harry had always felt free in the sky. The wind was rushing against his face, or maybe he was rushing against the wind as he was really flying fast enough to manage that.

But after a while it had become exhausting. It was a cold evening when both boys decided to land and rest for a while.

"Do you think somebody noticed us?" Malfoy finally spoke. He was lying sprawled in the middle of a field, acting as if the grass was some kind of a bed. He looked like at home, although Harry had always thought that this person would definitely not feel at ease in nature at all.

"They didn't try to shoot us, so, no, I don't think anybody saw two blokes on brooms. But any Muggle would think that they were loosing their wits and not believe their eyes. No need to worry," Harry answered sitting on a rock and enjoying the nice twilight that had taken over the field. It was quiet, but still the sounds of summer were in the air.

"So what's wrong with you? You're acting weird. Not at all Malfoyish," Harry turned to the other boy.

"Believe it or not, but I was almost ready to ask you the same question. Except the Malfoy part. Although you're acting is pretty Slytherin."

"Answer the question, Malfoy," Harry pointedly looked in the blonde's eyes. The other just smirked.

"Why, why. Aren't we serious…"

"See that's the problem with you," Harry said, earning a curious look. "You're all joyful and laughing almost all the time. You have, Jesus, I can't believe I'm saying that, you have loosened up. Now, why is that?"

"Because I get laid on daily basis?" quirking his eyebrow at Harry, the other boy suggested. But he didn't let go so easily. "Oh, I don't know, I mean, how should I know that? Maybe it's because I don't have the damned Malfoy stick up my ass anymore."

Harry snorted at the metaphor; he really hoped it was a metaphor: "How so?"

"I told my parents to go fuck themselves. Or even better- let Voldemort do it as they are prone to lick his ass any time," Malfoy said, looking back at the sky. Harry gave a start at this, taking a deep breath. "And no, Potter, don't even think about it, I didn't do it to join your side. No way! I'm still the same asshole. And I don't intend to change my attitude towards any of you. To my mind you're still the same nutshell you have always been, a little better dressed, but otherwise, the same."

"So why?"

"First of all, I don't and have never had the great wish to become a stupid, mindless Death Eater. Wouldn't suit me. I'm all decadent and a hedonist to boot, not a killer. And even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be accepted, oh why, you'll ask. That's because I'm gay. It's no secret to you, you should make sure that that stays that way, I don't want more publicity that I have right now. I'm in the 'most wanted' posters all over Death Eater lairs. I don't top you, but nobody could. And when I got to realize that if anyone at my family found out my preference and would be skinned without any second thought. So better back off while there was still time. I stole a lot of money from them and went living in the Muggle world. At least there they have gay bars," he laughed at that, but overly it seemed to Harry that Malfoy had enjoyed taking his time off the Wizarding World. In all senses he seemed more then content with the angle his life had gained: "Now your turn. Spill."

"I'm not gay, sorry to inform you, so I will fail to share the experience with you, and no one has ever wanted to make me a Death Eater, there have been a few times when Voldemort has tried to convince me that together we both could achieve much more, but I kinda' didn't believe him."

Malfoy laughed again, he seemed to be doing a lot of that, disturbingly so: "No, you freaking idiot, I want to know what makes our Golden Boy so aware of his appearance. Were you getting ready for a new school year of a lot of interviews for the Teen Witch Weekly? Trying to get even more fan-mail, beating your own record?"

"Jesus, no, where do you get those ideas?"

"So it's a girl?" Malfoy leaned on his elbows, gaining more interest in the subject.

Probably thinking of ways how to sell it to the journalists again.

"No, it's not a girl," Harry insisted.

"So you are gay? It's a guy, right?"

Harry thought about this for a moment and what Andy had said a week ago.

"Yeah, you could say that."

"I knew I was right!" Malfoy practically jumped up. "The Muggle world is swimming with hot gay blokes. Everyone could get hooked."

"Take it easy, it's not some other bloke, it's just me. I just found that I wanted to impress myself. Make me feel better."

"Oh, well, that's boring."

Malfoy sat down again.

"Let's fly? It's getting kinda' late."

--

They did miss the Sorting Ceremony and the feast. But they did come in time to meet Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape at the Grand Entrance. They were all looking horribly grim. After all, it was the middle of the night.

"Well, at least you're both together…," McGonagall muttered as they came closer.

"And from the looks of it, you have been spending the whole holiday together… What has happened to your ear, Draco?" Snape was grumbling.

"Harry, you're looking… good… without your glasses," Dumbledore could muster, but he did seem in a terrible lack of sleep as he motioned both boys inside: "But you should both be aware at the current situation in the Wizarding World, you shouldn't be flying by yourselves. But we are pleased, by all means, that you handled the situation practically."

"If you don't mind, I would like to drop dead in my bed, I flight to Scotland was not a trip of sightseeing, as you can imagine, professors," Malfoy said, but earned only a smack on the head by Snape.

"What you have done, might result in your expulsion, but given your specific situation, you are being spared. HOWEVER that does not mean that you can talk like a little brat with the Headmaster, Mister Malfoy!"

Malfoy growled and followed Snape to the dungeons. Harry wondered for a short moment, whether a long night of scolding awaited his flight partner.

"Potter," McGonagall said. "Your friends were worried. They came running to me and Professor Dumbledore as soon as they arrived. It does not do that you missed the train. You will receive detention; I will inform you about the venue details later on this week," she looked at Dumbledore, as if awaiting whether he had anything to add, but he seemed to have fallen asleep on his feet.

"Albus," she whispered to him quietly and nudged him in the arm. He woke with a start and plastered a smile all over his face, his eyes twinkling like a madman's.

"Good morning!" then he looked around. "Is it morning already?"

"Potter, the password to the tower is Mulberry candles. I am sure you will be able to get there without any complications. I will tend to Professor Dumbledore. Have a good night," and off she was.

Harry didn't waste any more time, he went directly to the kitchens. He was hungry as a beast.

--

Harry reached Gryffindor Tower when everybody was asleep. He had hoped that Ron and Hermione will at least have stayed up to wait for him. But everything was quiet.

The boy made it quietly up the stairs to his dorm, there he didn't even bother to unpack his belongings, but instead Harry just dropped in bed with his clothes still on. Three seconds later he was already asleep.

After what seemed just a few minutes, he was woken up by the whole group of 5th Year Gryffindors in pajamas standing around his bed. Ron was poking his shoulder: "Hey, mate, wake up."

"Let me sleep," Harry mumbled in his pillow and turned to his other side just to bump foreheads with Trevor The Toad.

"Ribbit."

"Gha!" Harry jumped up with a start. "Neville! Get that frog away from my bed!"

"Sorry Harry," the smaller boy apologized and took his pet away, soothing the now scared creature.

"Harry, we were worried like hell," Ron sat on his friend's bed. "You weren't on the train, then you didn't show up at the Feast and nobody had heard or seen you the whole summer."

"Yeah, mate," Dean joined in. "You didn't get attacked by… You-Know-Who… didn't you?"

Harry looked around his friends, surprised at how worried they were. Suddenly he realized that the fun of this summer had ended and he was back in the reality that full of danger.

"No, of course I wasn't attacked," he said, messing his hair and taking off the jumper in which he had slept. He felt sticky all over, but then the thoughts of taking a shower as soon as possible vanished by a sudden realization. "What do you mean- nobody had heard from me, Ron? You were the ones not writing to me! I tried sending Hedwig uncountable times, she just returned back. Where the Hell where you all summer???"

Ron looked confused: "Well, we couldn't contact you. Dumbledore had said that we should go in hiding and we put a Fidelius Charm on Burrow, that's why Hedwig couldn't reach us. And Hermione was with us all the time also..."

"But you could have tried to at least send some message to me. It's not like you hadn't managed before," Harry got up from the bed, noticing that the other boys had already scattered away from their conversation. He just wanted to dismiss the whole subject.

--

He was still sleepy when he arrived to breakfast in the Great Hall, his school robe was thrown over his shoulder because it was too damned hot to be wearing it inside. As he appeared just in his grey uniform trousers and a white shirt, he felt the whole school go silent for a moment before exploding into whispers. He scowled at them, not ready for another year of rumors and farce.

Sitting down at the Gryffindor table, he didn't even bother the greet everyone; he just nodded at Hermione and Ginny. Ron seemed inclined not to talk with him either, apparently just waiting for the whole thing just to sink in.

"Umm, Harry," Hermione spoke to him softly.

"Yeah?" he lifted his eyes and gazed at his friend. She had become more beautiful over the summer. Her hair was falling in soft locks over her shoulders and her face had grown to become more feminine and charming. Everybody had realized already at the Yule Ball last year that she is one the prettiest girls in school, but now she somehow didn't even have to try to look nice.

"Well, we were wondering… What happened to you yesterday?"

"You know, Hermione," Harry didn't really want to start again, but it just didn't seem to sink in everybody's thick skulls. "After how I got ignored over the summer by all of you, I just can't understand why do you all bother to show interest in me so suddenly?"

He did notice his friend flinch a bit, just as he did realize that what he had said stung quite a bit, but Harry couldn't find any spare strength to care.

"Harry," she sat conspiratorially closer to him, he lifted an eyebrow at that, but remained silent. "Well, I know Ron doesn't have this great insight on emotions, but you have always been sensitive, maybe he just doesn't consciously realize the real motives. But, you see, although you are an introversive type, your emotions, your anger or confusion, it is palpable for everybody around. Do you follow me?"

Harry vaguely nodded his head, mesmerized by his toast and the jam on his knife.

"Last year after… everything had happened, you shut down on us. Sometimes I even saw you staring at walls as if you wanted to just go and hit your head against them until your skull cracked open. I was scared by that. Everybody was. Whether you want it or not, you are some kind of a strength symbol among the student body here. I wished to help you, God, Ron, everybody wanted to do something, just to make you feel better. But after a while, it just seemed that you didn't need us anymore…"

"What?!" Harry exclaimed. "Are you blind, Hermione? I needed you then and over the summer, I wanted to talk with somebody…"

"Harry, thank you for telling us, but even now it seemed, when you walked in the hell, you just appear to be an independent, proud creature that can do everything on his own and despises everybody to trying even to get to him."

"That's how it looks?" Harry mumbled and tore his eyes from the food and looked over at the Slytherin table. Maybe he really should have been there. Malfoy suddenly caught his gaze and smirked. At least the bastard looked as horrible and sleepy as Harry did. "That's why nobody wrote. Everybody thought that I want to deal with this on my own and that I don't need or want anyone. Jesus…"

"Harry, I'm not saying you are like that. I know you like a brother and I can assure you that that is just how you appear to others. Because when people want to talk with somebody, they come up and talk, not seclude themselves in lonely corners."

"I didn't want to. But it's just so hard to get everything that I still can't even comprehend vocalized and form words. I don't know what you feel and how hard it is for anyone to talk about it…"

Hermione put a reassuring hand on Harry's wrist: "See, it doesn't matter how hard it is for us, I'm sure you feel a bit more scared because you were there." She swallowed hard; it looked like she had summoned all her Gryffindor courage for this talk. "But if we put out heads together and divide the fear and sadness among us, it helps. We have each other to trust in, why don't we use it?"

She gave Harry a small smile and he smiled back before tearing away from her a bit further because the closeness was a bit uncomfortable: "Thanks, Hermione."

But he still felt something like awareness inside gripping his ribs and clenching them painfully together. They had been scared from him to write or talk to, but now they were still blaming their own feelings on him, as if it were his fault. And no matter what Hermione said, he could talk with neither her nor Ron because he saw, it was so apparent, that they just still wanted to believe that everything was just it had been in their first years. As if the war couldn't break out everyday now, but what Harry knew and had seen, would just prove them wrong.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny chimed in, smiling sweetly at him. She looked like she hadn't slept at all.

"Yeah?" he was actually sick of talking about nothing all the time, but still looked up at his best mate's sister.

"What happened to your glasses?"