Only In Your Dreams

The cool breeze washed over Harry's face. Again he found himself wandering the halls of Hogwarts late at night. He had never been an easy sleeper. Night was the one time he was truly alone with himself. All throughout the day he was followed by friends, fans, and the occasional enemy. But now it was night, and so many thoughts ran through his mind.

He paused slightly to take in his surroundings; he had been so lost in the depths of thought that he hadn't been thinking about where he was going. He realized that he was getting rather close to the Slytherin dorm rooms, and that was the last place he wanted to go. The house, the people, the person. It was always haunting him. "Ha," he laughed bitterly to himself. What would the people say if they knew the truth.

He, the great Harry Potter, savior to the wizard community, the "Gryffindor god" of Hogwarts cried at night because of a Slytherin. When his friends caught him crying alone they would always assume he was crying about his parents, and then they would pity him and leave him to his weeping. Little did they know that his tears were not of grieving but of anger. An anger at life. His life. He was a born hero, defender of all things good. If he had been born any other person he might have a better chance but no, he was on the good side, which made all Slytherins his enemies. It was all because he was born Harry Potter.

There is no way he could get out of this war now. He had picked his side, or his side had picked him. It wasn't that Harry wanted Voldemort to win, ... no he would love to see the dark lord burn in hell, and finally get what he deserved but that meant that all his supporters would too.

He could never let anyone know about his true feelings. No one would ever accept them. No one would ever understand. Even he himself didn't truly understand. So he had to keep on pretending to be everyone's perfect Harry Potter. This conclusion left him very depressed. His life was no longer his. It belonged to the people who wanted him to be their god.

Harry shook his head. What was the use of making himself so upset over something he couldn't change. He decided to head back to his room and try to get some sleep. Just as he walked past one of the castle windows something caught his eye. Someone was standing all alone down by the lake. He saw the unusual silver hair color flashing in the moonlight and instantly knew who it was. It was too tempting for Harry. He knew he had to talk to Draco; there was no other way he could keep on living like this. At least if Draco rejected Harry he could get over him and get on with his life. He swiftly made his way down to the lake.

What would he think? What would he say? Questions raced through Harry's mind. "I can't believe I'm doing this." Up to this point Harry never even considered telling Draco about his feelings. The way he felt was always kept a secret from the world, and only came to life in his dreams. Did he really have the courage to go through with this now?