23A/N: See end of chapter for notes.
A big thank you to Basium1 for looking over the chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Secrets
Chapter Two:
"Clever Girl"
12/03/16
_
"According to Madam Pomfrey, thoughts could leave deeper scars than almost anything else."
-J.K Rowling
While Harry knew that she should be worried as to what the young Malfoy heir had in mind, she also couldn't help but feel relieved.
Even though their relationship was one of mutual dislike and violence, the Slytherin was really the only one who treated her as a normal guy… and that's exactly how she wanted it.
Sure, she was still mildly miserable, but the letter had done well to take her mind off things.
Harry was so thankful that she enjoyed the confused looked that befell the Slytherin's face in passing when she casually called out, "Thanks, Malfoy, you sodding prat!"
She couldn't help but giggle at the mild hint of worry that briefly flickered beneath his glowering mask. He thought that she too was up to something and she may have well has been considering the circumstances. After all, it wasn't every day that Harry Potter casually thanked his arch nemesis, Draco Malfoy, after punching him square in the face earlier that morning.
It was then that she found herself mulling over a potion's essay while sometimes looking to her left to snag peaks at all the couples that made their way to and from Hogsmeade.
She grimaced, frowning at their loving display. She turned to the snowy white owl that sat beside of her. Harry let her fingers dance over the soft, downy feathers, smiling at the coo the owl let out.
"At least I've got you, Hedwig."
Hedwig hooted in affirmation, nudging against her hand. Harry giggled softly, stroking her animal friend.
Harry looked up and out of the window by which she sat, glancing down upon the grounds of Hogwarts. The snow had begun to fall and there was now a light dusting covering the browned grass.
While she knew she had friends who would be there to support her, she also couldn't help but to feel… lonely.
It was this pit inside of her; a deep, dark pit that ached and burned, begging to be filled and satisfied.
Harry knew it was selfish of her, to want more when she was already gifted with wonderful friends, but there was just this aching emptiness inside of her that burned, begging to be filled. And she wanted to fill that hole because it hurt.
Harry let out a groan of frustration, falling back to lean against the cold rock wall behind her.
"I'm such a girl," she muttered, closing her eyes before looking up at the ceiling.
She studied it intensely before shifting her eyes to rest them upon her owl who cocked her head in turn. There was a slight tug Harry's lips and she smiled slightly before sighing.
"What would I do without you?"
Harry then looked down at her potions essay and pursed her lips. It was an essay on a simple polyjuice potion and Harry firmly believed Snape had chosen this potion to torture the poor Gryffindors who completely lacked any skill for the profession-herself included.
The assignment was to write an essay describing its uses and features, and to include an in depth step-by-step on how to correctly produce it. This part, while frustratingly boring, was the easy part. It was the next step that Harry dreaded.
They had to brew it.
Even though the Gryffindor trio had brewed such before in second year to help them sneak into the den of snakes, Harry had no part in helping. The potion was purely Hermione, who was a genius for a witch her age.
It was safe to say that potion making wasn't a gift that Harry possessed. Most of her concoctions seemed to end up being a hot mess that bubbled over and resulted in a deduction of house points.
Groaning, she raised a hand to rub at her eyes from underneath her glasses. They were strained from staring at the parchment for far too long.
Hermione would be proud. It wasn't always that Harry spent the entirety of a day locked away in a dark room to complete her essay; her potions essay at that. It was not only that, but Harry had put effort into this essay.
Potions homework was horrid work, but it was horridly good at taking her mind off things. She was almost done and she would eat the Sorting Hat if Snape didn't gape in shock at her intellectual phrasing and neat organization.
If it took her doing her potions essay to take her mind off the things that were bothering her, so be it.
Harry stretched, grimacing at the stiffness in her neck-a result from hunching over her essay for so long. Looking out of the window, she was pleased to note that the sun was on its way to setting, signaling that it was nearly time for dinner.
Rolling her essay up, Harry stood and turned to Hedwig who seemed to understand. The snowy owl jumped and flew up to her companion and rested upon Harry's shoulder. Hedwig gave a nip of affection to the girl's chin and then flew off and out of the window that Harry opened.
Harry watched her go, a soft smile playing on her lips, before turning and collecting her items.
She was in the dormitory, alone. She placed her gathered things in her trunk before cautiously looking around.
Harry was alone, but that didn't mean anything when someone could easily walk into the room at any moment.
Her breasts were aching and begging for release, her menstrual still days away from ending. Raising a hand to gently rub at them, she winced before standing. She couldn't take the risk.
The pain was minimum, a discomfort that she could and would bear. The only relief would be to take the wrappings and charms off, but it was such a time-consuming task to wrap them back up that if someone were to stumble into the room, she would be caught.
And so, with the fear of being caught weighing heavily upon her mind, Harry surrendered and left the room to head to dinner.
There weren't many students gathered for dinner in the Great Hall, as most were still "hitting the town" and enjoying romantic dinners with their dates.
It was with a mighty sigh that Harry sat herself at her house table and began to eat in solitude.
Many minutes had passed and she had yet to see the appearance of any of her friends. Hermione, she knew, was on a date with Theodore Nott, no doubt trying her best to make Ron jealous. And Ron, oblivious as ever, was probably with a girl, not trying, but succeeding, at making Hermione jealous.
There was a storm brewing and Harry could feel it coming. She would be caught right in the middle of it.
Groaning at the future prospect, Harry downed her glass of pumpkin juice before moving on to push at the peas lined on her plate. She honestly didn't know why she got them. She didn't like peas.
'Poor peas,' she thought, 'hardly anyone wants you as well. Maybe I am a pea.'
She was suddenly startled out of her reverie when an atrocious sound of high pitched squealing caught her attention.
Her head swiveled in the direction of the noise to find Pansy Parkinson, giggling and squealing, completely draped over the Malfoy heir. Draco Malfoy did not look amused; rather, he was frowning-a look that oddly did not suit his charming face.
Harry scoffed and mentally berated herself. The potions essay must have gotten to her head. Malfoy was in no way charming. He was a spoiled prat that did nothing but to make her life miserable.
Pursing her lips, Harry looked once more down at her rejected peas before giving up and pushing the plate away from her.
She placed her chin on her hand, looking around the room with bored yet expectant eyes. Her thoughts drifted and she soon found herself caught in a daydream of sorts-something she was never given the leisure of having.
She must have sat there, staring off into space, for perhaps a couple of minutes before she was jerked suddenly out of her reverie when a hand was placed upon her shoulder.
Startled, she swung around to face the culprit, only to find none other than the Slytherin Prince himself.
Draco Malfoy stared down at her with a smug expression upon his face. "Scared you from your romantic daydream, did I, Potter?"
Immediately frowning, Harry bit back a scathing remark and instead replied with the obvious, "What do you want, Malfoy?"
Draco placed a hand upon his chest, a mock expression of hurt plastered upon his pale, handsome face. "I'm hurt, Potter. Why must you always assume I want something? May I merely exchange conversation?"
Harry narrowed her eyes before turning away from the fifth year Slytherin. "You always want something, Malfoy. Now go away before I slug you again."
There was a deep chuckle behind her and the sound of footsteps. Harry mentally cheered before she heard the scrape of a chair and the sight of Draco sitting down across from her.
She cursed her choice to sit at the end of Gryffindor table.
The Great Hall, even filled with a few number of students, fell silent. All eyes were upon them, watching intently and waiting for the event they hoped would transpire.
Harry glared at her unwanted guest.
"Now, don't be like that, Scarhead. I've simply come to talk."
Harry scoffed. "Since when do you ever want to talk, Malfoy?"
Draco smirked. "Touche."
Raising an eyebrow, Harry leaned back and crossed her arms. "Is this some form of payback?"
"Clever girl."
Harry's eyes widened, heart pounding frantically in her chest. Her mind was slow to process the insult. Realization set in and Harry calmed. It was an insult, nothing more.
The smirk, however, did not go away.
"You see, Potter, a Malfoy always gets what they want."
Harry rolled her eyes. "And your point is?
Draco chuckled, the sound unfamiliar. Why was he amused?
Suddenly, a folded piece of parchment was being slid across the table. Harry stared at the object unblinkingly.
"It won't bite."
"With you it may as well."
"Honestly, Potter. I'm not stupid enough to hex you in front of the professors. What do you take me for? Go on. I know you're just dying of curiosity."
Harry reached for the note, eyeing it with a sinking suspicion. She opened it and read the well-scripted words.
Astronomy Tower.
Harry frowned before looking back up at the smirking blond.
"Be there, Potter. You'll regret it otherwise."
He stood and with a flutter of his robes, he was striding away, shoulders squared.
Harry watched him go, brow furrowed. The Hall was still silent, save for the echo of the Slytherin's footsteps, but as soon as he reached his table, whispering broke out.
Harry ignored simply ignored it and instead turned to the note, flipping it over and looking at it.
She examined it, but soon found a problem.
"Bloody prat. How am I supposed to meet you if you don't tell me where and when?" She grumbled under her breath.
She spared a glance back at the Slytherin and froze when emerald met piercing silver. They held eye contact for a moment, neither blinking or looking away.
Suddenly, Harry's eyes widened as the blonde's eyes seemed to begin glow an almost unnatural shade of gray. She blinked furiously, believing it to be a trick of the light.
The blonde cocked his head to the side as in confusion. Harry realized she had been staring and was about to turn away when the Slytherin suddenly smirked. Harry pressed her lips into a thin line when she realized the confusion had been false.
Draco raised an eyebrow before turning away to his companion who had called his attention.
Harry turned, completely taken aback. What was that, just now. What was his game?
Shaking her head and thoroughly frustrated, Harry stood and quickly made her way towards the exit of the Great Hall, the note crumbled in her tight grasp.
She stormed down the hall, grumbling under her breath.
At her pace, it did not take her long to reach the Gryffindor common room and it was with a mighty grace that she threw herself onto the sofa, and groaned into the cushion.
Harry laid there for a moment, just breathing in the dusty smell of the sofa cushion. She then turned her head to watch the flames that danced jovially in the fireplace, although its warmth did not entirely reach her.
Her hand moved round the piece of parchment that still lay crumpled in her palm. Was she really going to go and meet him? Knowing the vain teen, she would never hear the end of it if she didn't show up. And despite not having a time or place, Harry decided that she would go, only so she would be saved from his boisterous complaining that would surely follow the next day.
So, she lay there, sure that the Slytherin had meant a later time. It was a Saturday and a holiday at that, but knowing the professors and some of the students at this school, an Astronomy class was surely being held at the top of the tower. So, it would not do good to meet there.
But if not there, then where?
Where did Malfoy want to meet?
Harry suddenly heard creaking followed by the sound of footsteps. There were loud shouts and yells reaching her ears and she winced at the female and male tones.
Hermione and Ron were at it again it seemed.
"You have no right to tell me who I can and can't date, Ronald Weasley!"
"Well I wouldn't have to if you actually had taste!"
"Taste? Taste?!"
"You go around, strutting and bloody flirting with Slytherins. Slytherins! They're snakes,
Hermione! They'll turn you over to You-Know-Who!"
"Not every Slytherin is a bad one! Get your prejudice head out of your arse!"
"Nott is a Death Eater!"
"You don't even know him!"
"I don't have to! His parents are Death Eaters! The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, you know!"
"I can't believe you!"
Harry groaned, throwing an arm over her ear, the other pressed against the cushion. She closed her eyes, trying desperately not to hear their bickering. She knew this was coming; she just wasn't fully prepared. Where was her ear plugs when she needed them?
She lay there for what seemed like forever, the shouting having cleared the common room, leaving her unnoticed on the sofa.
Soon, the muffled voices grew silent and there was a slam of something solid and a loud groan of frustration.
Tentatively removing the blockage over her ear, Harry raised her head to see Hermione standing only feet away, staring silently at nothing.
Shakily, almost afraid, Harry called out to her friend. "Hermione?"
Jumping, startled, Hermione swung to look at Harry who peaked over the top of the sofa back. Her eyes suddenly softened and she looked down at her shoes, seeming almost embarrassed.
"You hear all that?"
Harry forced a laugh. "How could I not. I'm pretty sure the Slytherins could have heard you all the way down in the dungeons."
Hermione let out a groan of frustration and something that Harry could not detect as she walked over to the couch on which Harry part-way laid upon. Harry scrambled up, quick to make room for the intelligent which that plopped down upon the cushion beside of her.
Licking her lips, unsure of what to say, Harry opened her mouth to speak. "I take it he didn't like the idea of you and Nott together?"
Hermione turned her head and looked tiredly at her. "Of course, he didn't. Ugh, he makes my blood boil." Her demeanor suddenly changed to tired and weary. "What am I supposed to do, Harry? Why must I feel this way?"
Harry's eyes softened as she gazed at her friend. "He's dense, Hermione. You know that as well as I. Ron just doesn't know how to think before he speaks. He lets his emotions get the better of him."
"I know, but I don't know how much longer I can take this. Have you ever liked someone so much that your heart aches that when you're around them? And you're just waiting for them to ask you out, to confess and return your feelings, but every chance you give them, every rope you hand them, they simply turn you away. It hurts, Harry. It really hurts."
Harry let out a soft sigh before holding her arms out. Hermione greatly leaned into her, allowing her to wrap her arms around her. Harry held her close, resting her chin upon her head.
It was a friendly gesture, a comforting measure.
"I don't know what to tell you, Hermione. You know I'm no good in these sorts of situations."
Hermione remained silent before speaking softly. "Tell me to move on." It was barely a whisper.
Harry pursed her lips, staring into the flames of the fire.
"I only want for the both of you to be happy."
The common room was quiet after that save for the whispering of the crackling fire.
It was just a quarter past nine when Harry remembered the note. Looking towards Hermione who lay curled up on the couch, fast asleep, Harry could not find it in herself to disturb her. So, instead of waking her, she grabbed a blanket and gently draped it over her sleeping form.
Stepping back from the couch, Harry gave one last look to her friend before heading towards the exit of the common room. She stopped before the way to the dormitory, wistfully wishing for a cloak, but also not wanting to deal with the fiery temper of the red head.
So, instead of bundling up to stay warm, Harry left the common with only the clothes she wore; a baggy sweater and a loose pair of jeans.
The halls were dark and silent save for the echo of her footsteps.
Harry wrapped her arms around herself as she headed for the Astronomy tower, shivering slightly from the cool air.
By this time, everyone was tucked away in their house dorms, snug and warm by the fire. Harry momentarily wondered if listening to the blonde rattle on would be worth turning back. Instead of following through and heading back towards the call of warmth, Harry continued, telling herself that this had better be worth it.
It wasn't long before she reached the tower and the echo of voices that reached her ears notified her of the students at the top of the tower, no doubt having a late-night study session.
"Ravenclaws," she bet, mumbling under her breath.
Silently, she wondered through the tower, looking for any signs of platinum blonde hair. Once or twice did she swear she saw a flash of silver, disappearing as quickly as it came. She took her glasses off and hurriedly cleaned them. It was dark, she was tired, and she was seeing things that weren't there.
Finding a nicely illuminated spot by the moonlight near a window, Harry leaned back against the wall and let out a tired sigh. Her breath ghosted before her face in soft cloud of white.
Reaching into her pocket, the icy flesh of her hand grasped the crumpled parchment and pulled out into the lunar light.
She stared at it with unfixed eyes before looking up and away. Quietly, as if not to disturb the students at the top of the tower, she called out into the darkness before her.
"Malfoy!" she quietly hissed, eyes darting over of the shadows. "Malfoy!" She called louder.
There was no answer, only the quiet call of the wind.
So, she stood there waiting for any sign of the Slytherin, feeling as though she was slowly becoming a pillar of solid ice.
For a moment, she thought she heard his footsteps, but realized but a moment later that they belonged to the Ravenclaws above her who had just now finished with their late-night studying.
She slunk into the shadows and watched as their silhouetted forms walked past her and down into the abyss.
She waited until they were gone to call out again.
"Malfoy!"
There was no answer.
Growling, Harry clenched her chattering teeth. This was ridiculous. Was his revenge a plot for her to freeze to death?
There was a sudden clatter to her left and her swiveled on her feet, wand out and a muffled shriek stuck in her throat. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest and she cursed when she found that it was only an owl, watching her silently from the old armor of a statue.
Grumbling, she stuck her wand back in her pocket and stuffed her hands under her armpits.
She waited until she could no longer feel her toes in her shoes. Groaning, Harry moved sluggishly away from the window.
She had been stood up.
She had fallen for his little scheme again, just as she had in first year.
Her frozen body ached with each movement and she almost cried out in pain at the stiffness of her muscles.
Harry hurriedly moved through the deserted halls, ducking and weaving, trying desperately to make it back to the common room before she was caught.
Thankfully she made it with only one close call.
The warmth of the room assaulted her and her flesh burned at the touch of heat. Hissing, Harry quickly snuck into the dorm where she simply collapsed in her bed, tugging frantically at the sheets to pull them tightly around herself.
'The prat will pay dearly for this.' She thought as she shivered violently, curling up and desperately trying to warm the feeling back into her frozen fingers and toes.
She desperately wanted a warm shower, but knew the hot water would burn badly when it met the ice that was her flesh. So instead, she lay there, staring out into the darkness. Some of the boys were still downstairs by the fire, too busy telling each other about their great romantic exploits and unable to sleep due to the excitement that still rushed through their veins.
Ron was still in his bed across from hers and Harry stared at his rigid back. From the distance, she could not tell if he was still awake, or simply in a deep sleep, controlled by the anger that still plagued him.
Ron was a good friend at times, but his temper and jealousy were his undoing. Harry wished to help him, but she knew nothing she said would reach him. Ron was a thick Gryffindor, through and through, and even though they prided themselves for their bravery, Harry admitted that most them were not the brightest of the bunch; Ron being one of them.
It was hard to tell a Gryffindor something when they had already set their minds to something. Harry was one of them and knew she was as stubborn as they came. However, Ron was even more so and trying to talk to him would be exactly like talking to an inanimate brick wall.
So, she refrained from calling out to him to see if he was indeed still awake, even though she wanted desperately to try and patch things between her two friends. Harry knew though that they would have to work things out themselves-even if it took forever.
'Love really is blind,' Harry supposed.
It was obvious to everyone around them, the feelings that the two harbored for each other. However, when it came to them, they were oblivious and blind as bats to the other's feelings.
Harry hoped their eyes would be opened soon, for all their sakes.
Warmth was slowly seeping back into her limbs and she grimaced at the pinprick sensation that started up. A sleepiness was started to overcome her and even though she was still shivering, she felt compelled to close her eyes.
The day's events had left her exhausted.
Tomorrow it was likely that she would hear the blonde's laughter and the malicious words he would no doubt throw at her, but for now Harry wanted only to sleep.
It was with that last thought that Harry fell into a deep slumber, plagued with visions of silver irises and a dark, eerie glow.
A/N: I had planned to have this chapter posted Sunday afternoon, but around 1:30 pm, my Dad found my uncle, who had been living with us for a couple of months now, unresponsive on the bathroom floor. It was probable that he had been without air for about 20 minutes before we found him, but my Dad and I took turns giving him CPR anyways until the ambulance arrived. He is currently on life support and unless the doctors find any signs of brain activity soon, they will take him off of it later today. If you believe in God, I ask that you pray for him and his soul. I know that I am certainly praying for a miracle.
IMPORTANT
Drugs are a horrible thing. He had been clean for almost a year now and we don't know why he turned back to them. He took the usual dosage, but it had been laced with enough poison to kill a horse. We are unsure as to if he knew this, or merely thought he was just "shooting up". Please. Don't be stupid and make this same mistake. If you think that you are cool for using drugs and think that there is no harm in them, I wish I could show you the image of my uncle on the bathroom floor, his face pale and his lips turning an unnatural shade of blue. He is 29 years old. DO NOT make this same mistake and take your own chance of a long life away by using these killing substances. Yes, they may make you look "cool", but one mistake is all that it takes. Wise up. No good can ever come from drugs.