Chapter Two - Chivalry

The following day Harry felt like a ghost, he felt empty inside, walking through a castle bursting of life. There was nowhere he could find some solitude.

First and second years walking up to him with round big eyes to ask him if it was true, if You Know Who was really back. The upper years left him alone but kept staring with no shame, some with pure petty in their eyes, others with disdain and unbelieve.

Harry didn't know what was better.

Unfortunately for him, his classmates were worse. They were separated quickly into different groups: pure admiration, unbelieve, hatred or concern. While he hoped to gain some peace between the Gryffindors, it turned out to be the exact opposite. They did not actually believe what he told them about the graveyard, they just thought he had gone mental, he had finally cracked under the pressure. Some seemed like they did believe him, but they would just look from a distant and with concern at Harry. Every time he would make eye contact with one of them, tears started welling in their eyes.

He was a living reminder that Voldemort was back, that Cedric had died, that he survived.

It didn't help that Harry slowly started to seclude himself from the rest.

Ron and Hermione acted as if they believed him, but he would never know for sure. They had not been there and could never understand, they tried to, and in another world, Harry would have considered this kind. Now he was just annoyed with their ongoing need for attention or their need to fix him.

He knew he needed fixing, everything inside of him felt broken, but he didn't want to concern his friends with this. All Hermione did was look at him like he was her next project to solve, she spent hours in the library and every evening she came back with self-help books. It was kind of her, but he felt so burdensome and honestly, he couldn't muster up enough energy to read her books, it felt better to just lay down for a bit.

Ron..., well Ron is Ron. The first few days after the graveyard he had been very distant and Harry had heard him complaining to Hermione about once again being left out and Harry getting all the spotlight again. Later Ron had acted normal again so Harry could only imagine that Hermione had talked some sense into him, but it still hurt. Now, Ron just rolled his eyes at him comically when Hermione came to him with new theories and a two-month recovery schedule, acting like nothing happened. He just talked about everything and anything as long as it had nothing to do with the graveyard. This meant the main topics were the wonders of the previous quidditch match, Snape being unfair, and Malfoy being a git. Again, Harry just couldn't bring up the enthusiasm to respond to him, meaning that every conversation ended with Ron being hurt.

His best friend would never understand that this fame was killing, he would do anything to exchange lives with anyone. Though, think about it, he wouldn't actually, no one deserved a life like this, it was best not to burden anyone with it.

That is how Harry found himself wondering the halls of Hogwarts during lunchtime alone. Everyone was in the Great Hall, feasting as if nothing had happened. It felt strange. At least Harry was left in the quiet for some time... Sadly, this felt worse. Now it felt like he actually had no one to go to, he was all alone. Wow, being left alone with his thoughts wasn't much better. Still, just walking endlessly along the halls was calming in a way. The castle was full of old magic and life, all contained over many the centuries of students spending their childhood memories here.

At the moment it didn't feel like much, but he knew this was his home.

His train of thought was interrupted by someone bumping into him. Harry lost his balance and tried to grab onto whoever made him fall to stay standing.

"Merlin, Potter watch where you're going. Honestly, one would think you had some balance after playing quidditch for so long, but nooo apparently you really are as incompetent as ever."

As Harry looked up, he saw an annoyed looking Malfoy. Quickly removing his hand from Malfoy's shoulder, he tried to straighten himself, coughing to find his voice again "Right, sorry Malfoy."

A beat of silence as Malfoy stared at him from the ground on which he now squatted to pick up his books again. At a loss of words and the shocked stare of Malfoy, Harry just bent down to help Malfoy pick up the stuff he had dropped.

Malfoy had frozen with a book still in his hands, as Harry started shoving all the books into a pile again. It made him extremely uncomfortable.

Malfoy, seemingly realising he had been staring, immediately turned his face into a sneer again. Harry huffed at the brilliant acting.

"Potter, I know you have always been inept at wordings, but since when do you apologise to me?"

He realised he had indeed apologised to Malfoy, MALFOY of all people. Oh now he was really losing his mind. It's just... it's just that the pretty rival enemy act just didn't seem important anymore.

"Ugh, never mind. So, I apologized. So, I try to be polite. Oh, how terrible I must be now... I know, okay? Honestly, there are more important things than trying to annoy you. You're not that important."

Malfoy rolled his eyes at this but kept his mouth shut. Having collected and organized his books neatly in his bag again, which Harry has to mention was done with so much care that reminded him way too much of Hermione, Malfoy just gave him a sneer and turned to walk away.

"Always the dramatic, don't think too much of yourself Potter, you're not that chivalrous!"

The git.

But the final half hour of lunch break, Harry couldn't shake the thoughts that Malfoy had looked rather tired himself.