Incendium

CHAPTER TWO: Confusion

Harry hadn't managed to survive the night without tossing and turning and waking up every half hour. He awoke the next morning a complete wreck, his hair looking more disheveled than usual. He managed to get through breakfast without thinking of Draco's confession, but once they reached their first class, he knew it wouldn't be so easy to ignore. Their first class was Transfiguration, which they shared this year with the Slytherins. On the way to the classroom, Ron, Seamus, and Dean talked excitedly about what they were going to say to Malfoy when they saw him. Harry, however, lagged behind them with Hermione.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked, nudging Harry with her elbow. Harry looked up at her blearily and shook his head.

"Nothing. I barely got any sleep last night, that's all."

"But you went to sleep really early last night. I think even Neville went to bed an hour after you did."

"Just because I went to bed doesn't mean I actually got any sleep."

"Are you having bad dreams?" she asked gently.

"No, I'm alright. Something was just bugging me, that's all."

Hermione gasped slightly. "Is it your scar?" she whispered.

"No, no, I think it was just my Potions homework."

Dean, Seamus, and Ron had stopped in front of them, and Harry and Hermione had to stop abruptly to keep from bumping into them. Harry stepped up behind Ron and saw what had stopped them so quickly. Draco Malfoy was standing in front of the boys, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. When Harry saw Malfoy, he instantly remembered the dejected look in his grey eyes, and his stomach dropped into his feet.

"So, Malfoy, write an interesting letter to your father last night?" Seamus asked loudly. Draco stopped in his path through the doorway and turned quickly to the three boys in front of him. Harry saw a flash of surprise in Malfoy's eyes, which slowly faded into absolute contempt. Draco thinned his eyes and curled his lips into a defiant smirk.

"I did, actually. I wrote to him about the pests invading the school," Malfoy sneered at Seamus, his eyes washing deliberately over the other boy with his nose wrinkled in disgust. Harry's friends ignored the insult and continued their harassment.

"Are you excited about the Quidditch game next week?" Dean inquired with a sardonic grin painted on his face. Malfoy's eyes flickered in confusion again before composing themselves.

"Only for the fact that we're going to put Roger Davies into an epileptic fit when we beat his team." Malfoy managed a curt but effective snarl in the Gryffindors' general direction.

"Well I can't imagine how successful a Quidditch team can be if its Seeker doesn't even want to be there," Ron said pointedly. Malfoy looked utterly flabbergasted momentarily, but soon pursed his lips so tightly they turned white. Instead of snapping back with a caustic Malfoyesque insult, Draco smouldered silently and stalked staunchly into the classroom.

Dean, Seamus, and Ron all applauded themselves heartily as soon as Malfoy was out of earshot. They patted each other on the back and shook each other's hands, saying things like "jolly good show" and "that was our finest moment yet". Hermione followed the boys into the classroom before Harry, rolling her eyes and muttering something about "stupid boys" to herself. Harry lagged behind and entered the classroom last, vaguely pushing the door back behind him. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to share in his friends' victory - not when it was such a dirty comeback. Ron's words reminded him of the many times Draco had taken personal jabs at anyone unfortunate enough to come in his path - especially Ron, Hermione, and himself. He wondered how his friends could be congratulating themselves on stooping to Draco's level. Granted, they didn't know how far the sting penetrated Draco's cold exterior, but nevertheless...

"Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall's voice pierced through Harry's reverie. Apparently, he had stopped just inside the doorway instead of following his friends to his desk. "Would you kindly close the door and take your seat so that class may begin?" Harry got his legs moving with a brief false start and nodded.

"Yes, Professor," He said quietly, closing the door behind him and scuttling quickly over to his seat between Ron and Hermione, his head bowed under the weight of his classmates' stares.

++++++++++

"Ron," Hermione hissed, tugging on Ron's robes. Ron reluctantly left Harry's side and lagged behind with Hermione. Harry didn't notice his friend's absence from his side and seemed to be running on autopilot on his journey to the Great Hall. Ron fell into stride with Hermione, who bent her head towards his. "What's up with Harry?" She whispered.

Ron glanced at the back of Harry's head and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I think something's wrong with Harry. He's been acting very... distracted today."

"Maybe he's just having an off day."

"He told me he didn't get any sleep last night because something was bothering him."

Ron shrugged. "So he had a restless night. It's probably nothing Hermione; you're just overreacting." Hermione pursed her lips and sighed exasperatedly. "Besides," Ron added quickly, "it was probably just the exertion of hearing Malfoy's sordid narcissistic monologue last night that got to him."

"I don't know..." Hermione said in a dubious tone, shaking her head. "He seemed awfully distracted at breakfast, and then he stood in a daze at the door of Transfiguration class, and just now he nearly let a Lochi bird peck his eyeballs out because he wasn't listening to Hagrid's instructions. Something is definitely not right with Harry, Ron."

"Oh let him be for once, will you?" Hermione looked incredulously at Ron, widening her eyes in shock. "Harry can take care of himself, Hermione," Ron continued, ignoring Hermione's surprised expression, "he doesn't need you getting paranoid at the slightest hint of distraction. Besides," He said importantly, gathering his confidence and lifting his chin, "there are plenty of reasons for Harry to be distracted in class apart from whatever Dark, drastic reason you're cooking up."

"Like what?" Hermione asked, an exasperated puff of air punctuating her question.

Ron shrugged again and said with a noncommittal wave of his hand, "Oh, he could have a crush on somebody."

Hermione's jaw dropped and she hit Ron's arm so hard he grabbed it in exaggerated pain. "Do you know something I don't know?"

Ron shrugged, a large grin spreading over his face. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Ooh," Hermione fumed loudly; positively irritated that Ron could have an informational advantage on her for once. "I do hate you, Ronald Weasley." Ron looked right at her, grinned widely, and raised his eyebrows.

"And I dearly hate you, too, Hermione Granger."

++++++++++

"... What do you think, Harry?" Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville had been engrossed in a heated discussion concerning the gossip of a fiendish Slytherin plan to bumph their Bludgers every time a Chaser neared the goal. "Harry?" Ron repeated, shoving his elbow into his unresponsive friend. Harry jolted to attention and shook his head.

"Sorry, what?" Ron rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"What do you think of Slytherin's bumphing plan?" Dean asked. Harry looked puzzled for a moment, blinking. Then, a look of realization washed over him.

"Oh, bumphing," he said in a relieved tone, "... utterly nasty idea. I wouldn't be surprised if the Slytherins had gotten it into their heads to potentially harm poor, defenceless audience members just to keep a Chaser from their goals." Harry rattled automatically, his mind obviously elsewhere. Seamus, Dean, and Neville shared a quizzical look, and Ron turned suspiciously to Harry.

"Harry, are you okay?" Ron asked gently as he watched Harry poke his food around his plate listlessly. Harry looked up from his food, but his gaze settled on the Slytherin table instead of Ron's face. He sighed, not seeming to have heard Ron's inquiry.

"Malfoy is so sad," Harry sighed wistfully to himself, his eyebrows poised in a concerned arch above his eyes.

"What?" Ron asked forcefully, shoving Harry firmly but not angrily. Harry seemed to be broken out of yet another reverie, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"I mean pathetic," Harry blurted quickly. "Sad and pathetic, he is. Look at him - he's probably making fun of some unsuspecting student, just to get the rest of the table to laugh. He's got no substance to him, has he?" Harry's words betrayed what he had heard from Malfoy the night before, but he didn't want to tell Ron what he had heard.

Ron still gazed at Harry's expression, trying to identify the unfamiliar emotion flickering across his friend's face. "Well, I never really thought Malfoy had much more than fluff between his ears... you know that."

"Yeah, sorry, I don't know why I was thinking about it."

"Well, you had a tough night last night, Harry, and you probably went to bed with Malfoy's narcissistic ramblings swimming in your head." Harry shuddered at the memory of his uneasy sleep. "Honestly, I'm sorry we ever sent you out for that, Harry."

So am I, Ron, Harry thought to himself, so am I.

++++++++++

Harry, Hermione and Ron trudged out of the Hogwarts castle into the biting cold November air, rugged up in their House scarves and thick outdoor cloaks. Ron held a folded piece of parchment in one hand, as did Hermione. They were headed out to the Owlery to deliver letters home: Ron was asking his mother to send some clean underwear, as Seamus' cat, Cadell, had unfortunately raided the boys' dormitory and taken to Ron's underwear drawer; and Hermione was asking her parents to send her some more quills, as she had almost worn out the last of her stash. Harry was tagging along because he desperately needed some fresh air.

It had been three full days since hearing Malfoy's monologue, and Harry had been stewing to himself about his enemy's mental status for too long. He had resolved at the lunch table before he went out with Hermione and Ron that he would try to ignore Malfoy or any unwanted thoughts that crept into his mind. He didn't want to be distracted any more.

"Blimey, it's cold," Ron stated obviously, rubbing his hands together as Hermione opened the door to the Owlery. The owls inside all ruffled their feathers at the sound of the door closing behind the trio, hooting quietly to themselves. Ron made his way to Pigwidgeon's perch in the far corner, trying to settle down the excitable bird as it bounced excitedly at seeing Ron. "Pig! Stop biting me! I'm just trying to give you a letter."

Hermione wove her way through the owls to find her favourite school owl, Dengry. Dengry was a white snowy owl like Harry's owl, Hedwig, with the Hogwarts crest painted in indelible ink across his chest. Hedwig hooted in disapproval as Hermione clasped the letter to Dengry's left foot. Hedwig and Dengry were notorious amongst the Hogwarts owls and students for having flying contests on mail day. Hedwig almost always won, but only by a beak, and Dengry was always resentful of that fact. Dengry flew out the window with Hermione's letter attached to his foot, and Harry stroked Hedwig's back - mostly to make sure she would stay put than to comfort her.

Ron was still fighting with Pig when the door to the Owlery opened. "You stupid, stupid bird! Just take the letter! I need new underwear!" Ron was screaming as Draco Malfoy entered the Owlery, his family-crested over-cloak billowing out behind him regally. Perched on one arm was the Malfoy family owl, Mordecai, a large, impressive owl with sleek grey feathers and dark, threatening eyes. Malfoy's mouth turned upwards in a menacing smirk.

"Don't get your knickers in a knot, Weasley," Malfoy said, gliding past Harry to put Mordecai on his perch. Harry tensed up as Malfoy passed him in a whiff of November air and soap; Malfoy's presence was not helping Harry stick to his resolve. Ron, already flustered by Pig's disobedience, spun around to look at Malfoy and delivered a seething death-glare.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron snapped, swatting at Pig, who was still fluttering excitedly around his head.

"You should be lucky you've even got an owl, Weasley," Draco said, smoothing Mordecai's feathers. "It only took Granger's bloodthirsty cat to get rid of your disgusting little rodent, and even then I'm sure it took your parents all the money in Gringotts to buy you such a pathetic little owl." Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Ron, however, threw his letter angrily on the floor, his face reddening rapidly.

"Don't you dare talk about that rat! You don't know the half of it!" Ron yelled, ruffling the feathers of every owl present. Harry gave Ron a warning look, which made Ron stop his rant and pick up his letter. Pig settled quietly on Ron's head at the violent outburst, behaving uncharacteristically well. Malfoy sniffed haughtily and turned to Harry.

"Control your friends, Potter. One of these days they're going to get you into a lot of trouble." Harry gathered himself and stood up straight.

"Leave us alone, Malfoy," he said with as much resolve as he could muster. Malfoy thinned his eyes and pursed his lips.

"Very well," he said, breezing past Harry again on his way to the door, "I'll leave you pathetic creatures to yourselves."

As soon as Malfoy closed the door behind him, Ron screamed angrily and stomped his feet on the ground. "I hate Draco Malfoy!" he yelled so forcefully that the window panes rattled and Pig started to fly around the Owlery again. Harry and Hermione shared a withering look and decided to wait outside for Ron to calm down.