I am really sorry about the lateness of this chapter, but I have been so busy and underwent a lot of block for a while, I couldn't decide how the story should continue but I think I have it sussed now!
This chapter is very short sorry, but I thought that you would like something to read before the next chapter; I know the last one was left as a cliff hanger! Please tell me if the grammer is alright, I have tried to leave out continuous sentences but it has been a while since I have written anything.
Please review and tell me what you think, I may change it from a humour one to an angst story...what do you think.
Harry stormed down the dungeon corridors. He could feel the magic welling inside of him; he stopped in his tracks and took in two long deep breaths before he felt the crackling magic pool around him turn into a light warm tingling. He took one last look behind him before emerging from the dungeons into the busy Entrance Hall with students hurrying towards lunch.
"Harry!" He turned quickly at the sound of his name his hand on the handle of the main doors leading to outside. "Hey are you coming to lunch?" Hermione asked. Harry watched as a red haired figure walked alone into the Great Hall; throwing a sorry glare in his direction.
"I think I better let him cool off for a bit."
Hermione nodded sadly glancing towards the doors to the Great Hall. "Shall I come and get you after; we are both free. How about a trip to Hagrid's?"
Harry shook his head. "If it's okay I would like to be alone for a bit."
"Are you going to see Dumbledore?"
"Yeah." Hermione rubbed her friends arm in comfort before turning and walking into the Great Hall.
Harry waited by the front doors till she had entered the hall before he walked out into the crisp cold afternoon air. Instead of heading towards the lake or the Quidditch pitch he headed straight towards a large tree positioned on its own in the middle of the grounds. Harry did have every intention initially to go and visit Dumbledore's resting place as he always did during times of confusing but Hermione had pointed something out to him that he should have known; it was a habit of his, and those that knew him knew his habits. Harry walked more briskly towards the tree, picked up a long branch and pressed it against the knot on the tree making its movement stop. Without thinking Harry slipped into the small hole in the base and through the tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow.
In a matter of minutes Harry found himself in the small wooden shack. Remembering the images that he saw last time he was standing in this room he quickly found a small break in the boarded up wood, slipped through out into the open air of Hogsmeed. He froze for a moment wondering if what he was about to do was the right thing. Making up his mind with one last look back at the castle Harry felt himself turning on the spot and disappear.
"Where's Harry?" Ron asked glumly as Hermione came and sat down across from him.
"Not coming to lunch."
Ron huffed and continued to push his food around moodily. Hermione gave him a long exasperated look before she started to eat her lunch. 'Leave it Hermione ', she thought to herself, 'they need to sort out this one on their own'.
Draco looked around the wreckage of his room. He had really messed up this time. The look in Harry's eye's was one that he guessed that few saw; the raw power that was glowing behind the green orbs. If looks could kill Draco was sure that he would have been dead by now. He put his head back into his hands before he collapsed to the floor in a sobbing heap.
Draco had no idea how long he had spent on the floor crying but by the time he stopped his throat was sore and his eyes stung. He brought his hands up to his face and wiped away the last of his tears feeling the dried salt from on his skin. Getting up he walked over to the bathroom and ran a basin full of ice cold water which he plunged his face into. Once he emerged he stared hard at himself. Draco hardly recognised the boy that was looking back at him. Gone was the teenager that dressed immaculately without a hair out of place, gone was the Malfoy sneer and gone was the pride that he once had in his eyes. Instead all that Draco saw was a thinning young man, with reddish dark circles beneath his eyes pronounced by the stark white of his skin; there was no trace of price or purpose in his eyes; it was as if he had died somewhere along the way but his body had ignored this and continued on as a shell of his previous self.
This was the first time that Draco had really looked at himself and what he saw saddened him more. He now understood what people were saying about him, Draco, looking as if he had lost it. Draco knew now why Pomfrey was always giving him worried looks, it wasn't just about what he was doing it was also about how he looked. Tortured was the phrase that came to his mind. Draco didn't know how long he had looked like this but he guessed it had been longer than a few months. He ran his hands through his slightly wet hair sighing, he felt a weight lift from him as he straightened his shoulders and stood straight hearing his back give a small click in the process. Draco looked back down at the skin, his eyes caught a small bottle lying on the side; it was the potion that Pomfrey had given him. Draco picked up the bottle, it was half full; he could feel his body pull towards the liquid. He grasped the bottle hard his hand and threw it hard against the opposite wall; watching as the bottle shattered into thousands of tiny pieces and the last of the bottle's contents slide down the wall.
Next he pushed the sleeve of his white shirt up revealing the white bandage that covered his left forearm. He pulled at the bandage and started to unravel it. 'Malfoy's are never ashamed of what they are Draco' his father's words rang though his head. Draco knew his father had done some terrible things and made terrible choices in life but standing there looking down at his now exposed left forearm he knew one thing that his father had taught him that was right. People are responsible for their decisions in life, they should not be ashamed about what they have done, and they should learn from mistakes, continue and move on.
Draco walked back into his room, flicked his wand and everything started to move back into place. He pulled his sleeves back down, straightened his tie, smoothed his hair back and walked forward to his full length mirror. With his new clearness of mind Draco knew he was seeing more of his old self, not just a shadow of what he once was. He knew what he must do; instead of willowing in his own self pity he would work to make this world a better place and pay for all the terrible things he had witness and caused not in blood but by doing what is right. Dumbledore had tried to teach him this, tried to tell him, but Draco never listened to him. How foolish he had been then, such a child.
First though before he could start repaying he had to fix what he had done. Draco walked out of his room briskly ignoring those that started after him as he walked past trying to find Harry, who was the only one that had been able to open Draco's eyes and heart to the truth before it was all too late and he lost the only person he loved wholly this in this world forever.
