To Crash and Burn

"Welcome, students, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and to all returning students, welcome back." That was all he paid attention to.

"Harry?"

He couldn't concentrate.

"Harry??"

He wanted to go to the dormitory.

"Harry!"

Now.

"HARRY!!!"

He turned abruptly to the caller, missing many eyes that were watching him. "What?"

"Eat a bit, mate. You hadn't eaten since the morning."

He noticed the food and juice on the table.

"Oh."

He ate some buttered toast as slow as possible, chewing until the taste was so terrible he almost spit it out, then washed it down with the pumpkin juice. He felt a kick against his ankle and glowered at Ron before realizing it was Ron.

"What?"

"Ron's been talking to you for the past few minutes, Harry, weren't you listening?"

"No." Ron was shocked. "Stop that, Ron. Close your mouth. You look like a fish."

Ron shut his mouth.

Harry couldn't understand why Ron felt important and wanted so much attention - he was the one with the nine-member family.

"What did you just say, Harry?"

"I said you look like-"

"No, after that."

"A fish."

Ron nodded, knowing Harry had said something, and next to him, Neville's expression proved it.

Harry looked down at his food. He was angry, unable to change the way he felt. He was the heir of the Blacks' household and he couldn't hate that fact more. Because he was terribly disturbed with the memory; he was ignored all summer and "left alone" by the rest.

Age never featured more on Albus Dumbledore.

Darkness and rage never glowed more in Harry's eyes. They caught Hermione's eyes in a lock. Curiously she searched for feeling within them before she felt their emptiness pull her in like a magnetic field, pulling her in, slowly, devouring her, until she felt herself falling... falling... she screamed. Eyes pierced both her and Harry.

"Thank you very much, Granger," Harry half hissed half spat before he stood and left the Great Hall.

He went up to the library and looked through the 'Potions' section for no reason at all. He picked up a book and turned to sit.

"I did warn you about the wrong sort, Potter.

"Look, Malfoy: It's the first day of sixth year. We're almost done form this little hellhole to never see each other again if destiny be kind. Getting either of us expelled now will do neither of us any good now."

"I'm not here to get you expelled, Potter."

"I'm sick of fighting nonsense."

"I'm not here to fight you. I will even ignore the fact that you just called me nonsense. I'm here simply to know if you've finally come to your senses and reconsidered your rash choices, since you are almost of age and mind - I desperately hope."

"My choices still stand."

"Who's here when you need them? Where are your Gryffindork friends? Do you see the Weasel anywhere? Tell me, Potter, where is the filthy little mudblood? You obviously hadn't thought about it."

"Stop it, Malfoy, before I curse you into your next life!"

"-you are so blind!" Malfoy hissed.

Neither of them spoke for moments. "Pray tell to what?"

"Nothing. Remember what I said. You're the only Gryffindor here."

"And you're the only Slytherin here," Harry replied through gritted teeth.

Malfoy smiled, or sneered, you never know, and never lost his posture. "Very good, Potter. Potions, huh? Take two points for that." Harry looked down at the book then up at Malfoy. He was serious again. He nodded then left. "Think, think, think, Potter."

"I will never have anything to do with the son of Voldemort's favorite slave," he hissed, replacing the book with a loud thud then leaving to the Gryffindor tower.

Ron immediately approached him.

"Where were you?"

"In the library," Harry replied, not stopping.

Ron stopped him by moving in front of him.

"Doing what?"

"The hokey-pokey," Harry emphatically replied and pushed Ron away slightly and made his way back out.

"Very subtle, Ron. I thought that was very calm," Dean commented.

Ron followed him.

"Hermione's really upset."

"I'm really busy right now. I'm going to see Dumbledore."

"What has gotten into you? You're treating us like crap! You're not better than any of us, Harry."

"Are you sure about that?"

Ron's jaws fell. "Something happened to you, hadn't it? You know you can come to me, Harry. I'll listen."

Harry just walked away. He walked to the main entrance in front of the Great Hall and tried to remember his first meeting with Hogwarts. He sat down on the steps and sighed. He also never dismissed That-Famous-Handshake-Incident. He very well remembered Neville's toad jumping next to Professor McGonagall's feet. 'The Days of Innocence' he called them.

Someone sat next to him. He glances. Cho Chang smiled at him. "Hello."

The person who once thought you killed him.

He stood and walked away.

"Harry?" she called after him. She caught up with him. "What's wrong?"

"Everything," he hissed, sending her into a state of shock.

Aimlessly, Dumbledore totally forgotten, he continued his walk.

He walked to the stairs' main entrance and leaned by the rail, looking up, remembering the mischief he ran into, including the right-hand-side third floor corridor. He turned.

Justin Finch-Fletchely stood in front of him.

"Hello, Harry."

"Hello Fletchely," he said, ascending the stairs. He returned to the tower and up to the sixth years' room. He lied down on the bed and crossed his arms under his head.

Neville came into the room. "Hello Harry!" He approached the bed. "Everyone's looking for you. Aren't you coming to the welcome party?"

"No."

"Oh. Ok then. Goodnight mate."

"Goodnight Neville."

Neville took something from his trunk and left the room.

"Very good, Potter," echoed in his head.

He snorted and nodded mentally: it was time to recognize his alliances and reconsider his loyalties. Time to emerge. It was time to learn the truth.

He closed his eyes but sleep never came.

Long after Hogwarts fell asleep, Harry was awake.

At the creep of dawn, Harry left his bed and dressed up. He walked down and through the common room. Stepping into the hallway, he checked for someone then continued his walk outside.

Finding a bench at the lake, he sat. The water was calm. Harry watched the reflection of sunrise in the water. He sighed.

"Why does it have to be like this? Why did I have to live through that?" He sighed again and shook his head at his lack of luck. He lied down on the bench, very tired. "The thief. The bloody thief. He stole my parents and my godfather from me! He stole everything. My security. My happiness. Freedom. The thief..." Harry hissed.

"Harry?"

He bolted upright and turned. He narrowed his eyes then realized who it was. He let out a defeated sigh. "Why can't you let me be? Can't I be alone in this life?"

"There is something very important that I have to remind you of: 'It is not our abilities that show what we' truly 'are, it is our choices'." (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets - JK Rowling)

"What?" Harry blurted. "What?" he snorted. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?!" he almost laughed. His expression was of a very bitter person. "What are you afraid of, headmaster? That I'll turn into something imperfect? Like the rest of the world? I am not Voldemort."

"Indeed you are not. You are angry. I cannot fill that hole in your heart that's making you fell this way - I cannot give back what you have lost, but I can promise you, Harry, that I will always be there to support you."

"DON'T-" Harry snapped, "make promises you cannot keep."

"Why don't you go back to sleep, Harry? There's still three more good hours before breakfast. Rest will do you well. It would do you no good to-"

"Only one thing will do me good and that is my revenge at Voldemort and his Brain Eaten followers."

"I must ask you to go back to your dormitory, Harry."

"Of course."

Harry walked back in, Dumbledore a step behind. When he was just about to enter the dorm, he paused, looked over his shoulder and said, "now think if you made me prefect - I'd have my own room for salvation. Thank you professor: you have truly... nevermind." He walked in, through the common room and up to the sixth years' room, noisily.

"He heard a groan. Making a mocking face, Harry threw his clothes on the chair next to his bed and climbed under the covers. "Fools."