The Opposite of Love

"Pay attention, Harry. Now, if you put two newts into a Lucidity Potion, what will happen?"

"Snape will have me for lunch?"

"Harry! Be serious, we have to study! The N.E.W.T.S are only a few months away!" Hermione cried. Harry rolled his eyes, promptly shutting his Potions book after her fussy comment.

"I am dead tired of studying for his bloody final. He´s going to fail me either way, after all. Why don´t you bug Ron about it for a while?"

"Because that prat won´t even mention the word `study´. Honestly, you two need to grow up and realize that you all are stuck in this class until we leave Hogwarts," she huffed, slapping her own book shut and rearranging a growing mountain of papers.

"Well, one more glorious year and I won´t have to see Snape´s ugly face for the rest of my life."

"Or better yet, Malfoy´s!" Ron said gleefully, plopping down next to Harry. Hermione immediately drew herself up rigidly, folded her arms in defiance, and glared at Ron

"And why aren´t you studying?" She asked, her eyes boring imaginary holes into Ron. Ron smiled broadly, flashing her the world-famous Weasley Grin.

"Because it´s Christmas Eve and I don´t fancy imagining Snape´s great ugly face over a cup of hot chocolate."

For emphasis, Ron sipped elegantly on his cup of hot chocolate, giving Hermione a defiant look over the brim. Hermione scowled indignantly and Harry bit back a laugh at their exchange. His two friends, although extremely close, had argued day in and day out for years. It was no more abnormal than tying a shoe or eating with a fork.

"Still, Hermione, can´t we just sit here and enjoy something for once? It can´t hurt to at least pretend you can be laid back, can it?" Ron asked, his eyes widening in earnest.

A side effect of their strong bond, however, was Ron´s tendency to flirt without realizing he was doing it. The uncharacteristic rasp in his voice that escaped him did not go unnoticed by Harry, but Hermione seemed to miss the point altogether. Sighing in defeat, she wrapped herself in a blanket and absentmindedly leaned closer to Ron in the dim lighting. Harry sighed, knowing that his time was up and he was better off going to sleep than trying to split apart their 'friendly' intimacy. He went upstairs to the boy´s dormitory and crawled underneath the covers of his bed, contemplating the world at large.

Another year had gone by and Harry felt more alone than he had ever remembered. Over the past few years Harry had inherited a sort of foster family which incorporated many figures that helped to complete his life. Mrs. Weasley was like the mom he never had, and the rest of Ron´s family proved to be a kind of band-aid that wrapped around his scarred life.

Non-platonic love, on the other hand, was something even harder to come by. Despite his minute crush on a fellow seeker named Cho Chang in his earlier years, Harry had never felt an attraction to anyone. It would only make sense, being that Harry was never one for being close. It was hard to fall in love properly, being that the only touch he had received in his childhood was from the Dursley´s, and that was only a push him into his cramped cupboard. He had grown to dislike physical contact with even his closest friends.

For convenience, Harry divided those outside his circle of close friends into two categories: Those who wanted to be him or those who wanted to be with him. Everywhere he went it was certain what was on all minds: He´s got it all. The whole world expected him to be the greatest thing since sliced bread (although he couldn´t explain how sliced bread was so important) and it was all he could do to just manage to get away from Voldemort´s grasp. Harry had even begun to feel that his meetings with Voldemort were only won through good luck and some quick, simple spells. Yet even Voldemort was no longer first on Harry´s mind, although he occupied a good portion of it. Voldemort was only a physical challenge. Voldemort couldn´t match the battle of emotions that Harry faced in his mind each day.

Harry didn´t know the answers for himself, but all he could gather from his scattered thoughts that night was that he had two great friends and life wasn´t really so bad as long as he was at Hogwarts. He fell into a dreamless sleep that night, unaware of life-changing events that were taking place in other parts of the world.

*****

Lucius Malfoy, torn apart by anger, stalked inside of his home, searching for his son Draco Malfoy. His wife, Narcissa Malfoy, was weaving in and out of rooms, following her husband closely and trying to talk sense into his livid mind.

"Lucius! Draco had nothing to do with this and you know it! Leave him alone, please..."

"The boy lied to me Narcissa! He won´t take the dark mark, and he chooses to shame the family name!" Lucius had a wild, animalistic look in his stormy eyes as he searched each room in fury, still seeking out his disobedient son.

"Your name, Lucius! Draco is only doing it to show that he´s not going to do everything you tell him to do."

"He´s doing it to spite me!" Lucius roared, rounding on Narcissa and pushing her hard, causing her to stumble from the force. She hit a wall forcefully and slumped to the ground, silent and defeated tears sliding down her fair face.

"Draco! Show your cowardly face! Right now!"

"I´m here father," Draco spat, appearing on top of a staircase. Lucius´ darted eyes his upwards, glowering at his son. Draco remained calm and collected, though his eyes focused entirely on his mother, who began whimpering against the wall she was thrown into. Draco studied his father´s face, for the first time in his life feeling callous toward his father.

"You will take the dark mark, hear me boy? I didn`t raise you to be a fool!" Lucius yelled venomously, rushing up the staircase.

"I will not. I refuse to turn out like you, father, a slave to Voldemort...so low and cowardly as to bully around your own wife..."

"Lord Voldemort, and if you dare speak to me that way..." Lucius suddenly stopped halfway up the staircase, holding his arm in searing pain. The dark mark burned black on his skin, a telltale sign of the dark lord calling one of his servants.

"I´m being called, and I will tell Voldemort of your failure to join him. Perhaps then you will understand where your loyalties lie. Come Narcissa." Lucius grabbed her hand. Narcissa resisted, hurrying up the stairs to where Draco stood. She quickly wrapped her arms around him and held him tight against her. Draco held her close, nuzzling his face into hair that smelled of honeysuckle and spring, his stoic face breaking into helplessness. She bent down to speak into his ear, her voice shaking as she did so.

"I´ll always love you, Draco, my dragon." With those final words, she grasped Draco´s slightly shaking hand and pressed a small ring into it and manually curled his fingers around it. She kissed his forehead just before Lucius grew impatient with her and pulled her away. As Lucius brandished his wand, Draco looked into his mother´s tearful eyes one last time as both of his parents apparated out of sight. Draco´s face flickered for one instant, nearly on the verge of tears, but then it was composed once again. Draco had never cried before, no matter what the circumstances were. Draco knew that Voldemort would ultimately kill his parents. His father made no difference to him now, but the impending loss of his mother was draining his body and soul. This thought nearly caused him to cry, a tear threatened to spill over onto his cheek. He searched his mind blindly for something to make him feel better, some happiness or rock of strength he could lean on. When it came to him, he immediately felt safe; the knowledge that Voldemort couldn´t touch him in his home gave him strength beyond anything else he could muster. As the shock ebbed away, Draco set off for his room, preparing to dispatch an owl immediately.

*****

Not a sound could be heard in the depths of Hogwarts castle this late at night. With the exception of the soft footsteps of Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris prowling the halls in search of students out of bed and Peeves busily painting the walls of the boy´s bathrooms pink, no one was roaming the halls at all.

Around 3 a.m., a door banging open and sound of a man's cloak

"What brings you here to my office at such short notice, or rather such short hours, Severus?" Dumbledore queried, setting his needlework down on his desk. Snape quickly shook his head, ridding it of questions that were never going to be answered.

"Voldemort has killed Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy."

"Oh, dear," Dumbledore said in a grave voice, shaking his head in sympathy.

"Not only that, but due to this recent disaster among the Death Eaters, Voldemort has made his final plans to overtake Hogwarts to kill Potter once and for all."

"I´m sorry to say that we are unprepared for such an attack, Severus." Dumbledore sighed and stood up from behind his desk and began to pace the room. Snape watched him for a moment, the tension in the room palpable.

"Am I wrong to think that he is protected here at the school?" Snape asked, genuinely shocked at the prospect of vulnerability inside one of the few places that was deemed safe for Harry to be in.

"Over the past few months we´ve been more concerned with preparing Harry for Voldemort, though the prospect of Voldemort taking Harry was still with us. We even barred him from going into Hogsmeade, afraid that it was not safe enough. This was bound to occur eventually, Severus. Voldemort has grown immensely powerful and would be able to take Harry from here and destroy him utterly. We must get Harry to a safe place at once, that is definite. But the question is, where could he be safe, if not at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore sighed, sitting down again with a frown on his weathered face.

"If Voldemort can take over Hogwarts, there´s no other place as safe..."

"We must think of something, Severus, no matter what the cost." Snape hesitated at first, a strange tidbit of information appearing suddenly inside his mind. As most incredibly brilliant or incredibly stupid plans go, the nagging feeling inside of him would not be held down and Snape found himself revealing his idea.

"I have spoken to young Mr. Malfoy recently from an Orb of Visions and he claims that he is not leaving his home."

"Ah...So that explains why I have received an appeal to leave Hogwarts from young Mr. Malfoy."

"Malfoy Manor has a protection around it that no one has ever heard of. In fact, no one really knows where it is. It would be unorthodox, not to mention dangerous, but it seems to be the only safe place where we could send Harry. If I can just get Draco´s consent to have him there, Harry would be safe." Snape said all this with an air of simplicity, but both he and the headmaster knew that to actually carry out a plan like this would be next to impossible. "We would have some trouble receiving Draco´s consent, but..."

"I imagine that Mr. Malfoy would quite enjoy torturing Harry on a daily basis," Dumbledore said as he grinned morosely and shook his head slightly. "Though I fear that Harry would rather face Voldemort single-handedly than to spend a second with Mr. Malfoy."

"I don´t mean to sound so frank, but what choice do we have, Albus? We simply won´t tell Potter, he´ll understand that it´s in his best interests. They don´t even have to see each other, give or take a few seconds of a day, and they can each get back on track with their lives once we assemble our forces."

"I´m afraid that it will be slightly more difficult than that," Dumbledore whispered thoughtfully, staring out of a window next to his desk. Severus favored Dumbledore with a quizzical look, but simply ignored that strange feeling he got inside whenever he knew there was something important that Dumbledore wasn´t telling him. Dumbledore sighed and sat in his chair, silently cutting off Severus´ musings.

"Alert Mr. Malfoy at once and send Harry there now. That will be all, Severus."

*****

Harry woke up from his deep sleep by a strange tingly feeling inside of his stomach. Harry held his stomach as if he were in pain, but was actually trying to figure out what was happening inside of him. A bright red light then filled his line of vision, prompting Harry to reach for his glasses and peek out of the curtains to see who or what was the source of the light. A warm rush of air whipped around him, and Harry was being pulled toward the lone window in the dormitories. He tried calling out for Ron, but nothing escaped his mouth as he was pulled out of the window and disappeared into the horizon with a tiny camera flash click of light. Harry trailed unconscious over miles of terrain, only a small bright light identifying him as Harry. As muggles from below him stared from their houses and neighborhoods, some figured the white hot ball of light was a shooting star, while others believed that they had seen a rare comet hurtle through the heavens. No one except a select few knew of where he was headed, and what lay at the end of his journey.