Cruel

Hermione leaned back in her seat, her mind wandering back to the scars they'd seen on Harry's arms. Ron looked back at the entrance to the Great Hall once more, munching on a piece of bacon.

"Isn't he at least gonna come to breakfast for once? You'd think he'd be dead with as little as he eats." Ron finished the piece in his mouth then looked to Hermione. "What're you thinking on?"

She was jolted out of her thoughts and looked at Ron, staring at him a moment, not knowing who he was, as her mind came back to the present. "Huh? Oh, just Harry." She recalled somewhat hearing Ron talking of Harry coming to breakfast and returned to her own. "And you know things aren't going to be normal right away. Harry's been through a lot. As for how much he's eating, I'm quite sure Dobby's sneaking food off to him. You know how he is about Harry."

Ron nodded. "You're right. Still wish he'd at least come to breakfast." He kissed her lightly on the cheek then returned to his own plate.

It had been a few weeks since Harry's suicide attempt, and gradually things had been returning to the way things were. It had been a hard process, being that Harry had gotten used to always being alone. At first, he only sat next to them in class and joined in on their conversations. Merlin knows it'd been forever since the last he'd done that. Eventually he'd gotten around to hanging out with them again, though mostly in the library or outdoors. He'd gotten into having problems being in crowds, so he still avoided the Great Hall and Common Room as much as possible. The only thing he insisted on now was that when he asked for time alone, they gave it to him. It was the one thing he still needed the most in the world. Well, perhaps second most.

Draco, however, was another image. He'd begun separating himself from most Slytherins, while keeping up the appearance of being the leader. He simply "needed room to think." His picking on Gryffindors and first years had simmered down from torturous to mere teasing, which greatly worried many other Slytherins. Of course, when they brought up their concerns he pointed out very well just how childish it had all become and that with the Dark Lord having risen, they needed to be putting their energies into much greater tasks.

The competition between Harry and Draco, however, did not die down in the least bit. While they were no longer beating each other up in the hallways, their rivalry was more intense than ever. Harry had begun to rediscover his love of Quidditch, and Draco was under more pressure than ever from his father that Harry was constantly better than him. This of course led to games that had the seekers at each other's brooms with more passion than ever before seen. Though this was a great explanation to their friends and even a few foes, the true answer to each of them getting an adrenaline rush prior to each game didn't lie in the competition, but in the seekers. More than ever, whether or not they'd admit it to one another, Quidditch was the only place they could be close to each other while revealing nothing.

There was a certain quiet that suddenly entered the Great Hall, causing Ron and Hermione to instinctively look towards the entrance. There stood Harry, apparently amused at the reaction his appearance had caused. The dark-haired boy smiled, holding back a laugh as he realized he'd get a better reaction if he suddenly gave everyone the finger. He glanced over at Draco and for a moment their eyes met. Draco narrowed his eyes then looked around at the rest of the students. The look of disgust didn't escape Harry, and he couldn't blame him. He hadn't even tried to make an entrance this time. He walked over to the table and sat with Hermione and Ron, who tried their best to act as though nothing had happened.

"Merlin, Harry! How can you be late?" Ron piled stuff onto Harry's plate and gave him a pat on the back. "Good to see you back though, mate."

Hermione smiled and held Ron's hand. "Good to see you, Harry, but don't you think you should have gotten here earlier? After all, you'll barely have time to eat before class."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. Same old Hermione... or was it? He noticed her and Ron holding hands, and the way they were sitting next to each other. It wasn't much, but he wasn't blind or stupid. "Hey, when'd you two get together?"

Hermione blushed a little and Ron blinked. "Didn't tell before now? Oh, well I guess not. Kinda out of it, weren't you?"

"It was only a little while ago, Harry," she said, elbowing Ron. "We kinda had free time alone and all, and we sort of discovered..."

Harry only smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad for you. And it was rather long in coming."

"What do ya mean by that?"

Harry smirked at Ron then ate a little of his breakfast. This was definitely what he needed. He'd been eating away from the Great Hall, but his preoccupation with Draco had been keeping his appetite at bay. It was easy to eat a lot before and after his games, but outside of that he'd eaten very little. Draco had been ignoring him outside of those times. He'd tried to find a way to corner Draco and talk to him about that night, but he was never alone. Harry had a feeling it was being done intently.

Harry had rolled up his sleeves in Potions, finding they had this odd habit of dragging his leaves and root bits off the table. Every so often he got a chill up his spine, and he could always tell what it was. Sometimes it was Ron or Hermione looking at the scars. Stupid things, from a stupid time when he was being a total idiot. But other times he could feel the eyes of he who was once his rival and worst enemy. They stared at his back and watched him.

Hermione, not thinking, ran a finger along one of the scars while Harry was watching his cauldron simmer. It sent a shiver through his entire body and he gripped the edge of the table to keep his mind on track.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just--"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. If everyone keeps worrying, they'll always mean something. When all of us don't mind them anymore, then their meaning will fade with the scars." He looked at her and smiled. "If you're always curious, you'll always think about them, right? That's the last thing I want."

She nodded and took one last look at the scars before turning back to her potion. Harry felt Draco's eyes on him again and glanced over his shoulder. Draco immediately averted his gaze back to his potion, but not before Harry saw. There was something there, and he knew Draco would be the last person to admit it.

The class ended all too soon and the class cleaned up, filing out. Draco, who'd had a bit of potion melting through his table, shooed Crabbe and Goyle away then returned to his cleaning. Harry began cleaning his things slower and told Ron and Hermione to go on. Ron began to protest when Hermione tugged his arm and muttered something about it being necessary to get the old Harry back.

Harry left the classroom shortly after and waited outside the doorway. As he suspected, Draco was the last to leave.

"Draco."

"Potter."

They stood there, staring at each other a moment then Draco began to head away.

"I don't think so."

Draco stopped and looked back. "What is it?"

"What happened up there?" Harry began walking toward Draco, their eyes now locked. "I remember what happened. Why are you ignoring me now?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "So many questions Potter. You're a smart bloke. Figure it out." He walked away again, and this time no amount of shouting would stop him. Even when the shouts sounded strangle like cries.

That night Harry found himself wandering the halls near the dungeons. Truth to tell, he didn't trust himself near any towers. He hadn't since that night. Somehow he'd found himself near the Slytherins. He looked at the portrait a moment then began walking away.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

Harry turned to see Draco standing there, watching him. Emerald eyes met silver and Harry felt lost, as though a forest being bathed in moonlight. He managed to pull his gaze away and growled. "What does it matter?"

"Draco?" They both turned to see Pansy standing there, the portrait open. "What are you... Potter! What are you doing here?"

Before Harry could speak, Draco went and draped himself on the taller boy. "We were just about to go on our date, weren't we?"

Wide-eyed, Harry strained to back away, though a large part of him didn't want to. "But, Draco..." He inwardly cursed. The word had slipped out before he'd realized.

Draco nuzzled Harry's chest. "You see, Pansy, I just couldn't help it. I've been denying it for so long but he's just so handsome!" He then leaned up and made it look as though he was nibbling Harry's ear while whispering to him: "Say anything and I kill you right here, right now."

Harry just blinked and Pansy narrowed her eyes. "Fine. Idiot." She then stalked right back into the Common Room.

Draco pulled himself off Harry and stretched. "Well, that worked."

"Draco, are you sure that was a good idea?"

"What? No one would believe her."

"Well, she's pretty upset."

Draco smirked. "Yup, she's pissed."

Harry just shook his head. "I don't know about you."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

Harry couldn't help it. He just stared. He knew it. Draco knew all along. The roles seemed reversed somehow. Draco was so calm, so cool. Here was Harry, acting out, being irrational. Not that it was rational to try and kill himself, but still.

"I know you're attracted to me. I've seen the way you look at me during our matches. The way you sometimes glance at me in class."

That did it. Harry found the strength he once had, plated with the calm he'd found the night of the attempted suicide. "Are you talking for me, or yourself?" He grabbed Draco's wrist and pinned him up against the wall. Their bodies pressed close together, and he found there was something that gave him the upper hand. "You're really pissing me off, Draco. Somehow we keep finding each other. Always have. Weren't you the one that said you were always there?"

"You don't understand. Times are different. Besides, I don't go after men."

Harry pressed closer to him, breathing into his ear. "That so? If you aren't attracted to me, why don't you explain the hard-on?"

"Get off," Draco said quietly, his voice harsh yet unsteady.

Harry backed off, his point proven, and watched Draco walk away and into the Common Room.