Author's Note:Nothing much here.

Disclaimer:If it were mine, it would have ended the way I want it to end: Ha! You thought I was going to tell you how this would end, didn't you?

Warning: Language. Violence. Slash. Non-slash. (Male/Female)

(***Harry Potter***)

Harry had his first two classes off as Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team to figure out who their new assembly of players would be. Twenty-three people had showed up, but only six, besides Harry, obviously, would make it. So far, his most promising aspects were Adrian Linkhouse for Goalkeeper, Paravati Patil, Lavender Brown and Colin Creevey for Chasers, and Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas for Beaters. If only he could simply tell them that. If only there weren;t sixteen extra people here with a little talent that really wanted to represent their House. If only he didn't know the outcome fifteen minutes into try-outs.

"Alright, run the play again, this time without the showing off. I want a Quidditch team, not a circus!" Harry shouted up to the practicing Gryffindors. They wanted toshow off what they had so that Harry wouldn't see what they lacked, when it really only made their flaws more obvious.

"Yeah, guys! You'll never make it at that rate!" Ron's voice shouted from the goal posts. The red head was sure that he would make the team because he had made it last year. If he bothered to pull his ego back in, he'd see how much better Adrian was doing on the other side of the field. It didn't really matter, Harry supposed, considering the fact that everyone that Harry knew would make it had completely ignored the Weasley.

"So this is our team, huh?" A soft, Scottish voice questioned rhetorically. Harry glanced over at the familiar man before continuing to watch his future teammates. The ex-Gryffindor Quidditch captain didn't say anything else, keeping his charming brown eyes on the flying contenders who all had dreams of standing in their own spotlight, winning their own games.

"Correction, Oliver. It's my team." With a smile, Harry turned to his old friend, proudly showing him the Captain's Badge on his uniform. Oliver returned Harry's smile while running a hand through his slightly messy brown locks.

"I knew you could do it." The elder boy didn't comment on the team not being his anymore, tactfully avoiding that subject. It was obvious that he missed being a student, or at least being on the Hogwarts team.

"Fly lower! It'll make you less of a target!" Harry shouted to a boy that he knew wouldn't make it. Maybe he could practice that over the summer and make it next year. "So what bring you here, Oliver? Professional Quidditch not all it's cut out to be?" Harry questioned gently, knowing that wasn't the case. Oliver loved Quidditch more than anything else in the world. The happy smile that had overtaken Oliver's lips faded into a sad upwards turn of the lips before an answer came.

"No. It's better than what it's cut out to be. I was tossed from my broom and threw my shoulder. I was told to take a month or two off, but that my spot would be there when I was ready for it. Madam Hooch, luckily, was long overdue for a vacation, so here I am." Oliver used both hands to motion to himself, drawing a smile to Harry's face.

"Uh-huh. And this has nothing at all to do with the fact that Cedric took a job as assistant Ancient Runes teacher?" A blush raced up the Scott's face as he coughed into his hand.

"Um, no?" Harry grinned at Oliver.

"Who would you choose?" Harry questioned, giving his old friend a break by changing the subject.

"I have a feeling you already know who's made it and who hasn't." Oliver, as usual, was correct. Harry just gave a smile.

"Perhaps, but I'd like to hear your opinion anyways." The brooms swooping through the air came to an abrupt halt as the wonderful, ringing laughter of the Gryffindor Quidditch captain and his friend was carried on the wind, up to their ears. Never had any of them heard a better sound.

(***Hermione Granger***)

Hermione stood alone at her table in the potions classroom, wishing for the first time in her life that lunch would hurry up and get here. She wanted to see Harry and tell him about last night. Why couldn't Quidditch try-outs have waited? More importantly, why did Harry have to find such great amusement in flying around three hundred feet above ground level on a broom stick while chasing a small golden ball? Hermione would admit that she was a bit bias, considering her fear of heights, but that didn't really matter. A small sigh escaped her lips as she began to dice the three slug tails needed to complete her potion. Just because she had personal news didn't mean he should drop the only thing that really made him happy. She was just being selfish. Did it count as being selfish if she knew that she was being selfish and stopped herself from acting on it? A small smile drew itself on Hermione's face. If a tree falls in the forest and no one's around to hear it, does it make noise? Of course she was still selfish; she was just smart enough to realize that before it was too late. Besides, to be selfish was to be human. It was nothing to be ashamed about. Finally, Hermione began to add the diced pieces of tail, stirring clockwise between every three pieces.

"I do believe that this is the first time that you haven't finished before us." Blaise said while sliding into the chair that Hermione usually used, Draco taking Harry's a moment later. Hermione didn't look up from her potion. This was the most important part of the potion. If she messed up even just a little here then her potion was ruined. Hermione didn't even have the luxury of feeling embarrassed.

"I do believe this is the first time that you've had two people to work on the potion while I was alone." Hermione muttered under her breath while adding three more pieces. She didn't want to take the risk of messing up other people who needed even more concentration then she did.

"I would've ditched Draco in a heartbeat if you would've asked." Hermione's smile grew at the Italian's soft words, words that she was sure no one other than Draco and she could have possibly heard.

"No thank you, Blaise. I'm perfectly fine on my own, at least until Harry comes back." Hermione easily kept her voice steady. She had been stupid last night, but she didn't regret it. As far as Hermione was concerned, nothing would come of beating herself up over something she couldn't change. Still, Hermione didn't know anything about Blaise and until she did she had to tread more carefully. She had to ask Harry's opinion on the matter and see what he would do. If nothing else, it would help her clarification process greatly. Again, she smiled. But would she really be able to pull away, completely away, if Harry didn't agree? Probably not, no, but she could sure as hell try.

"I'm sure that I can keep you company just as well, if not better, than Harry." The last three pieces were tossed in by a tanned hand. "Watch it, Hermione. You almost did one too many stirs." Hermione blushed, stirring twice more before reaching for her beaker. And reaching. And reaching. And- Chocolate brown eyes looked up to see Blaise holding the beaker, Malfoy smirking beside of him. With a roll of her eyes and a suppressed smile, Hermione plucked the small vial from his hands and began to fill it. Who knew that Slytherins could act so much like Gryffindors when they wanted to?

"You should have allowed her to mess up. Gryffindors always have such memorable reactions when they mess up." Draco's voice suggested smugly. Now that sounded more like a Slytherin.

"I like not messing up just fine, thank you." With that, Hermione stuck the cork into the vial and walked to the front of the room. Dealing with Slytherins was Harry's specialty, not hers. Seriously. She tried once and ended up pinned against the wall! Out of her peripheral vision, Hermione saw Blaise talking in hushed tones to Malfoy, obviously about something dark, something that Gryffindors weren't allowed to know about. Damn, what she wouldn't give to be pinned against that wall again. Quickly brushing that thought away, Hermione collected her things and walked over to the table that the two Slytherins had abandoned. They followed.

"Just because we play Quidditch doesn't mean we've lost the use of our legs." Malfoy pointed out in what Hermione would have called a playful manner coming out of anyone else's mouth. Hermione opened her mouth to retort, finally beginning to see why Harry found this kind of thing fun.

"Of course not. Your minds, however, are a completely different matter." At that point, Snape swept back into the room, robe billowing behind him. Hermione could still remember how much that had frightened her in First year. Incredibly dark grey eyes met chocolate brown, sending a small shock of pain through Hermione's heart. She could have loved him. Hermione supposed that was why losing him, here fantasies of him, hurt so much: she knew that she could have loved him, if given the opportunity. Suddenly feeling nauseous, Hermione tuned out Blaise's – or maybe Malfoy's – response. She couldn't break down now, not here. She had been handling the fact that they could never be so well that she had fooled even herself. Why couldn't it be that easy? Why couldn't she just be over him already?

"Because you're human." That's what Harry would say if he were here. But he wasn't so he wouldn't. Blinking back the tears and putting up a perfect mask of happiness, Hermione turned back to what were probably two confused – they were Slytherins, she couldn't really tell – boys.

"I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?" Hermione pretended not to notice the looks that Blaise and Malfoy exchanged, instead focusing on the words that Blaise was repeating.

(***Narcissa Malfoy***)

Narcissa sipped at her coffee with slight distain. It tasted perfect. It always tasted perfect, and she hated it. She hated everything that came with being a Malfoy, with being married to Lucius. Light blue-grey eyes closed with a sigh. That was a lie. Draco had come out of their relationship, and she wouldn't trade him for the world. Perfectly manicured fingers curled into wavy blonde hair as Narcissa let her walls down. Lucius was at a meeting with Cornelius Fudge and wouldn't be back for hours more. The wards were up. She could afford a moment of peace. Pale lids lifted from their resting position, allowing blue-grey eyes to see a pair of perfectly polished shoes. Lucius-

Her irises widened marginally in surprise before returning to normal, her infamous Malfoy mask slipping effortlessly back into place. Calmly, Narcissa raised her head, prepared for whatever her husband would throw at her. She was not, however, prepared for the startling crimson eyes which watched her bemusedly. As soon as she spotted him, magic began to flow freely from her Lord once more, wrapping around her like a flaming blanket from the coldest depths of hell. Such contradictory feelings were more addicting than one could imagine. Swiftly, she dropped from her chair down to the floor on her hands and knees in respect. Somehow, she still managed to look graceful.

"He's losing his touch." Narcissa didn't have to look up to know that he was talking about Lucius. She felt Voldemort's tall form step over her body and take the seat that she had occupied only moments before. "Stand, Narcissa, and take a seat. You're about to have guests." Her Lord's deep, melodic words were immediately obeyed, giving Narcissa the chance to see a shimmer of magic cover his body; changing it exponentially. All traces of his magic disappeared as his well-groomed, dark brown hair receded into his scalp, changing into a sandy blonde color at the same time. His crimson eyes turned to a pale green, skin wrinkling and bones reforming, making him look like a fairly short man in his mid-fifties. The doorbell rang, and Voldemort gave a nod. Narcissa turned without question to get the door.

"I'm sorry to drop in uninvited, but we need to talk." Remus's soft voice held sincerity, and Narcissa gave him a soft smile in recognition of that. The Lady of the Malfoy house gave a nod before moving aside to allow both him and her cousin to step through the threshold of her home. The first thing Narcissa noticed was that Remus had gotten Sirius to clean up. His steel grey eyes looked at her with a bored emotion, his ebony hair cut neatly and his face shaved pleasantly. Oh, what his parents wouldn't have done to see him like that. She walked them back into the dining area where Voldemort waited, looking meek. If she hadn't witnessed him change herself, she would swear that it wasn't him. Charmed green eyes looked up warily.

"I apologize, Lady Malfoy. I didn't realize that you had a prior appointment. I'll- I'll come back at a later date." There were no flaws in her Lord's acting. Truly, he sounded like a bumbling man trying to avoid the consequences of intruding on a Malfoy's meeting. Narcissa opened her mouth to excuse him, like any Lady would to an unwanted person, when Remus stepped in.

"It's fine. We're really the one's intruding here, and we'll be gone in just a bit." The werewolf placed a gentle hand on the Dark Lord, as if to reinforce his right to stay. The Dark Lord licked his lips nervously before nodding. Remus smiled at the response. Sirius wasn't nearly as enthused.

"He can't stay! Have you forgotten what we came here for?" Sirius nearly shouted in protest. Remus responded with a 'shut-up-and-sit-down-I-know-what-I'm-doing' look that almost brought a small smile to Narcissa's lips. Almost. Sirius crossed his arms, face twisting into something that looked suspiciously like a pout, before flopping into the chair across from the disguised Dark Lord.

"Look, Narcissa, we need to know exactly what your Lord wants with Harry." Remus's voice, sounding kind and cold at the same time, nearly had Narcissa showing her shock. Instead, she kept her mask in place and did what she would have done if Voldemort weren't sitting behind her, watching her every move.

"I don't believe that this is the proper place to discuss-"

"It's the perfect place to discuss this." Remus wasn't budging.

"Remus, I-" Sirius snorted, cutting off the female Malfoy's words.

"You might as well give up now, Cissa. I've seen him like this and he won't give up until he gets what he wants." Sirius didn't sound at all concerned about that fact. Narcissa pressed her lips together ever so slightly, trying to find a way to get out of her current predicament. On one hand, the only other person in the room was the Dark Lord. On the other hand, if she said anything then the two men would become suspicious. Remus was smart and no matter how stupid Sirius acted, he hadn't been the top Auror for nothing.

"I already told you, Remus. I don't know what he wants." Blue eyes narrowed lightly as Remus ran a hand through his thick sandy blonde locks.

"Rodolphus is upstairs. Sirius, go keep him company." Narcissa looked at Remus, light confusion breaking through her shields. "I can smell him. He just came through the floo system." Sirius blinked.

"You mean the guy who was stupid enough to marry Bellatrix?" Sirius scrunched up his nose in disgust at the name of his distant cousin. Remus gave a nod, and Sirius shrugged. Dutifully standing and making his way to the stairs. As soon as her cousin was out of earshot, Remus spoke again.

"Cut the act. I can smell you, too." Narcissa held her breath. Suddenly, she wished that it had been Lucius that had found her near her breaking point.

(***Rodolphus Lestrange***)

Rodolphus brushed the soot off of his shoulder uncaringly. He had easily put Bellatrix under a strong Stupefy and then added his own version of a Body-Bind spell. It wasn't truly necessary, but it comforted him in the end. Gracefully, he walked out of the Malfoy's Floo Room, towards their dining area where Narcissa was sure to be. She was much better company than her sister, and he had matters to discuss with her, mainly about her husband. The man was overstepping his boundaries far too often, and had been ever since their Lord had returned. Soon, he would pay for that. Rodolphus just wanted to make sure that Narcissa was aware of that. As he approached the staircase, magic assaulted his senses. The most recognizable magical signature was Narcissa's, followed by one of a werewolf, most likely Remus Lupin, which Rodolphus only recognized because of the fact that he was the first were-creature that the eldest Lestrange had ever met. The final, and closest magical signature was one that Rodolphus would never forget. It was shady, powerful, Black magic – in the most literal sense – covered over by light magic.

It was delightful, like the mix of sweets inside of a chocolate truffle. The chocolate was sweet, but it wasn't what you had in mind when you went to the store and bought it. No, it was the container. That light magic was what had kept a true dark arts master from taking the young Black. It was what had kept the true light magic users around him. It was also what had kept the younger male from reaching his true potential. Rodolphus didn't mind. It just meant that he would be the first to taste that magic; that wondrous, dark magic. So many people didn't understand the value of magic; that magic was what it was all about. Magic defined a person. When Tom had been younger, before his first death, he hadn't understood that fact. Now he did. Now the Dark Lord understood it better than Rodolphus himself did. The only question was, what would he do with that knowledge? A moment later, Sirius Black's head poked around the bend of the hallway, steel-grey eyes widening as soon as they caught sight of Rodolphus. If it weren't for the blatant show of shock, Rodolphus would say that he looked like he was supposed to; like a pure blood. Sirius took less than a millisecond to reel himself back in before moving his body the rest of the way into the hall.

"Moony says I've got to stay up here with you." Sirius said as if explaining why he had been sent to Askaban. Rodolphus kept his face perfectly blank as he put two and two together to get the fact that Moony was Remus. Either way, it meant that he still had three floors of the Malfoy home to use. To use with Sirius Black. Rodolphus was fairly sure that he could handle that. A tanned hand waved in front of his face. "Hello! Earth to Rodolphus!" Sirius paused in his waving and speaking to ponder something. "You know, you could really use a shorter name." While Rodolphus had refrained from reacting to Sirius's waving around in his personal space, he cocked a brow ever so slightly at that. Rodolphus had never had a nickname. Then again, he had never wanted a nickname. In all truth, he still didn't want a nickname. It looked like Sirius was just going to have to get used to using his full name.

"How about Rudolph? Or maybe Dolphus?" Sirius sucked in an excited breath, a glint that Rodolphus would almost consider malicious entered steel grey eyes. "I know! I'll call you Rudy!" Yes, Sirius was definitely going to have to get over this whole nickname thing. Fast.

"No." Rodolphus made his point clear in that simple, monotonous word. The smaller male didn't seem to get that.

"Okay. Rudy it is!" Rodolphus completely ignored Sirius, instead turning around to travel to the Malfoy Library. As far as he was concerned, the easiest way to deal with a Black was to read. If Sirius was anything like his cousin then he would despise being ignored for a book.

(***Tom Riddle***)

"I'm not going to fool myself into thinking that your intentions for Harry are anywhere near good. I'll normally agree with his judgment, but don't think for a moment that he'll go behind my back if I tell him to stay away from you. Now what do you really want with him?" Tom watched the werewolf with nearly amused crimson eyes. Lupin had hesitated after first seeing his true looks, but had continued only a moment later without fail. Now, Tom wasn't about to give away the ace of his deck, but there was no harm in throwing out a jack or two.

"I want his magic." They didn't need to know the details of his plans or what Harry Potter would be like afterwards. That was all trivial. At least, it was trivial to Tom. Intelligent blue eyes narrowed.

"Why?" Tom didn't resist the small urge to give a lazy smirk. If he could persuade the wolf to accept his want of Harry Potter then things would become so much easier. And he had Rodolphus to handle Sirius Black. His Second-in-Command always did have a thing for Blacks. And as soon as Tom was in full power, Rodolphus could give up the guise of being married to Bellatrix and pursue his own significant other. Tom had no doubt in his mind that it would be the last remaining male Black.

"He's powerful; as I'm sure you've noticed." The younger male simply continued his attempt at intimidation, as if waiting for Tom to continue. "I want that power on my side." Again, Lupin looked at him, but Tom wasn't about to speak again. Manipulation was key and if there was one thing that Tom knew how to do, it was manipulate.

"I want an Unbreakable Vow. I want to be absolutely sure that you won't do a thing to Harry that he doesn't want you to do." Remus said, face steely. Tom simply looked at the blonde man.

"I'm afraid that won't work. To make an Unbreakable Vow, both participant must mean what they say, completely and totally." Tom didn't believe Lupin to be stupid, and it was obvious that he wouldn't mean it. At least, not completely. The determination in Lupin's blue eyes wavered for just a moment, giving Tom the opening that he needed. "I can honestly say that nothing I do to Harry will be without his permission, but I can't agree to anything else you would ask." Tom expertly allowed a small dose of his magic to trickle into the air and wrap around Lupin's senses. He would win this battle, and that would bring him a large amount closer to winning the war. Faster than Tom was expecting, the determination was back.

"He's all Sirius and I have left. I know you don't care just the same as I know that the Prophecy was at least partially correct." Crimson eyes watched the werewolf with shielded eyes. How did he know about the Prophecy? "He's just as strong as you are, and if you don't truly mean for him to be on your side; not just as a follower, but an equal, then only one of you will survive." Lupin didn't wait for Tom to respond – not that Tom was planning on responding anyhow – before walking towards the staircase. None of his followers would have been able to speak to him like that and walk away. No one in general would be able to speak to him like that and walk away. Swiftly, Tom cast a nonverbal, wandless Crucio on the ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Instantaneously, Lupin fell to the floor with a scream. Moments passed before Tom released the Unforgivable, cold crimson eyes trained on Lupin but not missing how Narcissa had stiffened, as if she had wanted to go and stop the hybrid's pain.

"No one is my equal. Remember that as surely as you remember the pain that had just coursed through your veins. Remember your place on the floor at my feet for that is where you belong; just like your friend; just like your Godson. Remember that and be gone." Lupin stayed on the floor only a moment longer before standing on unsteady feet and going up the steps. The werewolf had said all that he had wanted to say, just as Tom had done. The negotiations had been made. Their positions had been made clear. It would all boil down to tomorrow after the duel. It would all boil down to Harry Potter. Let the games begin.

(***Remus Lupin***)

Remus barely managed to stumble up the stairs. He had been put under the Cruciatus curse before, but it had never been that bad. It had never hurt so damn much. Never, had he felt like his body had been dipped into a frozen fire; every particle of his body screaming for release. Truthfully, he would have given up anything for that pain to stop. He would have thrown himself at Voldemort's feet and begged for mercy if he could have gotten his pain-riddled body to move, his panic-addled mind to think, and his screeching vocal cords to speak in complete sentences; in complete words even. That was what scared Remus. Harry was extremely powerful, but he had never shown his magic to be anywhere near that level. Did they really stand a chance? Using the wall for support, Remus began checking rooms. Nine bedrooms, seven bathrooms, twelve sitting areas, and two kitchens later, Remus walked into the Malfoy Library.

"And then – you're not going to believe this part, Rudy – Harry jumps off of the banister to catch me! I swear; that was the best game of tag the world's ever seen! Er, that the world's never seen, I guess. No one was there but Harry and me. Moony wouldn't have joined in anyhow. He doesn't believe in fun." Remus smiled a bit at his friend's description of that day. He had left for one hour to get groceries and Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had been in complete shambles by the time he had returned. Still, it was a rare moment that he had seen Harry happier, so Remus had let the incident slide. A deep voice that Remus assumed belonged to Rodolphus hummed in a way that usually meant 'Go on, I'm listening.' It was a hum that Remus himself often used while listening to Sirius. A mere minute later, Sirius came into sight, sitting upside down on what looked like a recliner; his feet where his head should be and his head where his feet should be. Rodolphus sat across from Sirius in an almost regal position. His right ankle rested easily across his left knee as Rodolphus leaned back almost lazily in his chair, brown eyes trailing over the page with what Remus could tell was feigned interest. He had done the same thing enough times to know.

"Rudy?" Remus couldn't help himself. Rodolphus's parents had named him perfectly. He looked like a Rodolphus and nothing else; especially not Rudy. Sirius bent his body at the waist to push himself into a halfway sitting position; just enough to see Remus. Rodolphus didn't react. Remus held himself straight, making sure that the pain he was still feeling didn't show.

"Yeah. Rodolphus is way too long, don't you think, Moony?" Sirius's childish grin didn't cover up the intense questions that stormy grey eyes were shooting at Remus. The were-creature simply gave him a light chuckle, well aware that some of his pain bled through to his voice.

"I think it sounds just fine. Now, I'm sure that Rodolphus had a reason for being here besides distracting you, so we're going to take our leave, alright?" At Remus's words, the smile from the ex-Auror's face disappeared and he flipped himself upright.

"I thought you wanted to see old Voldy?" Remus didn't respond to Sirius's question; just kept smiling. "What happened down there, Remus?" Blue eyes looked over at Rodolphus. The man wasn't even pretending to read anymore, simply watching the two ex-Marauders with calculating brown eyes.

"We can talk about this when we get home, Sirius." As usual, Sirius refused to listen to reason.

"Remus, what happened? Did you face him without me? Is that why you sent me up here?" Sirius had never been stupid. This time was no exception. Remus, seeing this, sighed and sluggishly walked over to the seat beside of Sirius, leaning on it without sitting down.

"He was the man you saw downstairs. I told him that Harry wasn't something to mess with and he used Crucio on me. The end." It wasn't nearly all that had happened, but it was all that Sirius needed to know for the moment. Stormy grey eyes narrowed, promising that they would be talking about this the moment they reached Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, before Sirius gave a dramatic sigh.

"Fine. Don't tell me. See if I care." Sirius said childishly. It was an act that anyone who didn't know the Black would buy. Remus ignored Sirius and instead gave a nod to Rodolphus.

"Thank you for keeping an eye on him." Again, Rodolphus showed no signs of hearing, instead choosing to get back to his book. Remus kept the soft smile plastered onto his face as Sirius got up and they left the library, walking through the twisting hallways of the Malfoy Manner until finally reaching the staircase. No one was waiting at the bottom. Remus didn't waste time getting to the door.

(***Harry Potter***)

Harry sat calmly in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch, watching the clouds go by. He had ended try-outs fifteen minutes early, deciding that enough was enough. With that done, Harry had an extra fifteen minutes along with lunch time. So if he waited half an hour then he could have a long, fifteen minute stroll up to the Great Hall, and then another half hour to eat. It would give him time to think; to think about the duel. He had to think about his future or lack thereof. Merlin, he had to think about everyone's future! The fate of everything from magical creatures to muggles rested on Harry's shoulders, and the pressure was killing him. He certainly wouldn't wish his life on anyone else, but a break every once in a while would be wondrous. Then again, at least Voldemort would be the one killing him. That way, he would get one last taste of that incredibly dark magic before dying.

A small, whimsical laugh escaped through Harry's slightly parted lips. Or maybe the Dark Lord would just randomly decide that he wanted to be friends with Harry. Now that would be something for Rita Skeeter to write about. He was positive that the Quibbler would have a traditional pure blood's ball with that one. Scratch that. There was no way that a traditional pure blood in his or her right mind would allow Rita into his or her ball. A small, wry smile made its way to Harry's face. Unscratch that. There was no such thing as a traditional pure blood in his or her right mind. After all, who hated muggles so much that they practically made a religion out of it? All Harry really hoped was that Voldemort had gotten rid of his 'Kill everything that has anything to do with muggles' plan. It didn't matter to the Boy-Who-Lived that Voldemort hated muggles, it was just that a muggle had made that mistake before and the entire world had seen how well Adolf Hitler's plan had worked out. Green eyes closed as Harry felt Hermione's nostalgic magical signature wash over him; the sound of her footsteps following soon after.

"I thought that I'd find you here." A shadow fell over Harry a moment after Hermione's voice drifted fondly over to his ears.

"And what made you think that?" He smiled, and didn't have to open his eyes to know that she was smiling back. Harry felt her sit down beside of him before responding.

"I'm not really sure. Maybe the fact that you always come here to think was a little tip off. You know, maybe." Her teasing tone was a welcome change from the dark turn that his thoughts had been taking. Harry hummed as an answer, allowing a soft silence to cover them like the most fragile of blankets. Perhaps he was becoming predictable? "We're missing lunch, you know." Hermione broke the comfortable silence a few minutes later. Finally, Harry lifted his eyelids to reveal emerald green irises.

"What's wrong? You're missing ogling Blaise from across the room already?" A feminine hand smacked Harry's shoulder lightly as a response to his comment.

"No. I was just… You haven't been eating a lot lately, Harry. I'm getting worried." She always was the observant one. Harry sat up, giving Hermione a light shrug in the process. He was too nervous to be hungry.

"I just haven't had much of an appetite lately." It wasn't completely true, and they both knew it.

"How about now?" Hermione inquired gently. Truthfully, Harry was. It had been a rough day. With a nod, Harry stood and offered Hermione a hand.

"Come on. We'll still have about forty-five minutes to eat if we hurry." Hermione smiled back at him before taking the offered hand. The walk back to the castle was spent in sweet, sweet silence. When they reached the Great Hall, Harry gave a mock bow before opening one of the two large doors for Hermione. Warm brown eyes shot Harry a look that seemed like a mix between disapproval and amusement before walking in. The only sound in the Great Hall was the door closing behind them. People were staring. Everyone was staring. Without warning, Ginny stood up from the Gryffindor table, marched over to Harry, and slapped him across the face. The Great Hall broke into uproar. Harry barely heard the young red head's words over the noise.

"Fucking bastard." And then she ran out of the room in tears. Harry blinked before lifting a hand to feel his cheek where she had hit him. He was positive that it was turning red by now. What had he done?

"What's going on here?" Harry shrugged. Apparently, Hermione was as confused as he was. Slowly, they walked over to their table. Harry slid into the seat beside of Seamus even more confused than before.

"I didn't know you were gay." Harry blinked at the Irishman's statement.

"I am?" Dean jumped into the conversation, giving Harry a strange look in the process.

"Aren't you? It's all around the school, Mate." Harry frowned a bit, well aware that the entirety of the student body was listening in on their conversation.

"Not as far as I'm aware of. Where did you hear this?" Dean blinked at Harry's response, looking as confused as the Boy-Who-Lived felt. Hermione had a calculating look in her eyes as she watched Dean, waiting for an answer. She obviously had a better idea of what was going on than Harry did.

"I heard it when I walked into the lunchroom. So, wait a second, you're straight?" Harry sighed at the question. No one made anywhere near this big a deal when Fred and George came out.

"Not really. I've never really liked anyone so I can't really say which sex I prefer." Then the whispers started. Harry, to the best of his ability, ignored them and tried to eat. It didn't matter that his appetite had, once again, vanished. He didn't want to worry Hermione again. After a few minutes of pushing his food around on his plate, Harry watched Hermione stand.

"Come on, Harry. You don't have to put up with this." Harry smiled at her anger, knowing that she meant it; knowing that she was wrong. He did have to put up with it. He had to put up with it because he was the Boy-Who-Lived. He had to put up with it because he was the Savior of the Light. He had to put up with it because no one cared enough to make it stop.