It Felt Right

Chapter 4

The air was incredibly cold and distant. Harry felt as though something seemed to be crawling in his skin, venturing in several angles his body had offered and pulling it self to a stop at the throat that he might choke whenever he opened his mouth or took the slightest breath from the surrounding. The presence of Blaise Zabini in the Gryffindor Boys' dormitories was making his lungs unable to receive the oxygen needed. He clutched his bed stand for support.

"That's better. I'm here to-" Blaise looked at Harry and his right eyebrow slowly raised. He was not sure what to make of it, but he had to ask.

"Are you scared, Potter?" asked Blaise, amused with what he saw.

"Me? Scared?" replied Harry, his tone getting higher. "What in the world for?"

Blaise halted his eyes on Harry for a couple more seconds motionlessly, and being satisfied with what he saw, began to open his mouth when Harry interfered, "Are you aware of what time this is Zabini?"

"Err...let's see...no," supplied Blaise, eyes sweetly blinking and lips grinning.

"I thought so. That is why I'm reminding you that your attempt for today is a waste of time for my eyes are failing me and I need my sleep," explained Harry, faking a light yawn.

"You do sleep don't you? Oh wait, I forgot. Beauty sleep? Is that what it's called?" asked Harry, trying to hide his smile.

Blaise was outrageous and he felt like he wanted to jinx Harry that instant, but the place was just not right. Instead, he put his wand inside his robe and began to walk away.

"Yes, I guess you are right, Potter." Blaise agreed, his body facing the main door.

"Then I presume what Draco wanted you to have tonight is done." His hand handsomely placed on the doorknob.

There was a clear and sharp bang on the door. Harry had abruptly stood up and placed a hand on it to avoid Blaise to depart. Minutes later, Ron was stirring and his leg was wide opened to both sides. Dean and Seamus were merely changing their sleeping position and Harry patiently waited for the coast to clear.

"What did you say?" enquired Harry to Blaise, voice shaking.

Sarcastically, a meaningful smile formed at the corner of Blaise's lips and he slowly turned his head towards Harry. He dropped his hand and put it inside his pocket robe.

He sighed. "I'm tired. I do need my beauty sleep. I don't want any eye bags on-"

"What did Malfoy wanted me to have Zabini?" pressured Harry, his eyes focused on Blaise's pocket robe as he saw him moving his hand as though looking for a dime.

"Here, read it yourself and try to understand it, Potter. I'm sure it's not that difficult." Blaise poked Harry on his stomach with a piece of folded paper.

It was a small one, burned at every side and handwritten in Draco's own handwriting. It was nearly crumbled, due to Blaise or Draco's fault, he didn't know. He was so absorbed by it that he didn't realize that Blaise had pushed him to reach for the door.

"Potter," called Blaise at the other side of the door.

Harry looked up and stared at Blaise. He was speechless.

"It's half past four. Get some sleep Golden Boy." With that he took his steps down the stairs and Harry was alone once again.

*********

Harry could hear voices in his head. They were familiar voices of Ron, Neville and the others. And true enough, when he opened his eyes, Ron was facing him with a frown on his pale face.

"Late Harry. Late! Wake up!" Ron pulled Harry by the arm, ignoring the protest and forced him to sit up.

"What time is it?" asked Harry as he began to head for a quick shower, grabbing all the stuff he needed.

"Let's put it this way mate. Ten minutes of lecture from Hermione?" replied Ron, showing a dreadfully tortured expression.

"Oh Merlin! That is not good!" yelled Harry as he closed the door behind him.

That morning was the fastest shower Harry had ever did. His eyes were a bit red as he accidentally put the liquid soap into his eyes and cleansed his body with the shaving cream. As he descended the stairs with Ron, he was itching everywhere.

"Is that infectious?" asked Ron; looking at the spot Harry was scratching.

"What is?" asked Harry, now attempting to bleed himself to death with the enormous scratching on his hand.

"The thing you're doing now," replied Ron, looking around as they reached the common room.

Harry stopped to check closely at his hand. "I don't think-"

"Harry! Ron! You are late!" Hermione called to them, hands folded on the chest. As usual, Hermione was already there, waiting for them and had had her books opened for an early glimpse of what to be taught in class. She quickly put them back and looked at the boys.

Ron sniffed and whispered to Harry. "This is going to be a very long day, Harry."

"Honestly you two, this is not how you should behave in such a good and soothing morning. Spare me the damp details, but I think this goes way behind our schedule. Late breakfast and several chit chatting activities...put yourselves in my position, you will not last one day in my shoes, I can tell you that..."

They were now entering the Great Hall and the place was already packed with all the eager minds of tomorrow. And Hermione was still with her...thing...

"...I was so sure that you were different from them Are you sure Fred and George did not tell you anything crappy or worst have you being a guinea pig for their silly jokes again, Ron? -No, don't tell me. I don't even want to know," Hermione said, putting her hand up and closing her eyes after seeing Ron's guilty face. She looked away and traced them back on Harry. "And as for you Harry I- Harry, why are you scratching all over your body?" asked Hermione, apparently unaware of it from the beginning.

They were seated right now at their usual place and Harry was so occupied with his own activity that Hermione's question was unattended. Ron elbowed Harry that made him jumped.

"What?" asked Harry, now scratching his face and leaving visible reddish lines from the forehead to his chin.

"Stop it Harry. It's not...healthy," replied Hermione, looking irritated.

"I wish I could, but I can't."

Hermione sighed and began to take her breakfast. She kept on looking at Harry and the sympathy inside made her stop talking. She stared at the headmaster's table and saw Professor Dumbledore nudged at her, raising his pumpkin juice as though he was saying cheers! Professor Snape was apparently staring at Harry from afar with a disgusted feature and the rest of the staffs were enjoying each other's company.

It was time for the first class to begin and they decided not to be late. Hermione took her bag and swung it over her shoulder. Draco's figure was on sight and Hermione expected to see Severus Snape's resemblance on his face, but it was the other way round- A mixture of being satisfied and regret all together.

********

"This should be interesting," began Hermione as they were walking towards Charms class.

"Learning has always been interesting to you Hermione," replied Ron, bored on the subject. He looked at Harry for an approval, but Harry was not listening.

Hermione took a long deep breath. "If only you two would pay attention."

"I did pay attention. It's just that there's been some interference in my channel," replied Ron, smiling.

"Satellite problem I would say," continued Ron, pointing a finger at the blue sky.

"Ron, you need to have an aerial to get the satellite reception," explained Hermione, rolling her eyes. "And you don't even have it," said Hermione, shaking her head.

Ron was embarrassed. It was a sharp one and he could not think of anything to defend himself.

"Harry, you're not going to continue your scratching inside are you?" asked Hermione as they reached the door of the class. She took a pip inside and her eyes were scanning the place. "The class is almost full and it will be soon," continued Hermione, looking at Harry.

Harry was scratching his tummy and did nothing to stop it.

"You want to bet on it?" whispered Ron, as he shifted himself closed to Hermione with a hopeless expression.

Seconds later, the three of them went to their table, followed by Harry at the end, scratching his neck.

********

Professor Flitwick was teaching them Locomotion Charms and every one was enjoying themselves except for Neville LongBottom and Harry. Ron and Hermione did well when they immediately set their quills race each other at the edge of the table. Hermione yelped as she won the race.

Everything seems to be running on the table, except for Harry. Neville was finally progressing when he managed to make his pen stood up.

"It looks like your pen is drunk, Neville," giggled Parvati as she went to see his first attempt. The pen seems to be going in every direction.

Harry on the other hand was unable to handle his wand properly. He tried, while scratching his body with his left hand, but only to make his quill stood and dropped at once. He tried again and it did the same thing.

"I'm afraid your quill has retrieved its last breath, Harry," joked Ron, as he tried the charm on Lavender's pink quill. It was spinning and spinning and Lavender shrieked.

Looking at the table where Lavender was seated, Harry gave up and put his wand on the table.

********

"That was interesting," said Ron, agreeing to Hermione at the end of the class. He looked at her and winked his right eye.

"Well, not for me," said Harry dully, as he walked passed them, heading for the door.

"That's because your scratching-" stopped Hermione, looking at Harry. "Harry, you're not scratching anymore!" explained Hermione, slightly jumping, as she was delighted to tell that to Harry.

Harry stared at his hands and it was true. Both his hands were inside his pocket robe. The others expected him to be happy too, but they were wrong.

"Great! Why does it stop now!" said Harry, stomping his way forward, leaving Ron and Hermione behind. They had to run to catch up with him.

"But Harry, I thought you'd be thrilled!" asked Hermione, her breath nearly ran out.

"Thrilled?" Harry suddenly stopped. The other students were dodging glances at them and started to walk away quickly. Ron was feeling uncomfortable.

"I am not thrilled Hermione because I just lost our house ten points from Professor Flitwick for not doing anything!" explained Harry, looking at his feet.

Hermione smiled and placed her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Ten points is nothing, Harry. I'll get it back for us in the next class," comforted Hermione to Harry.

"Won't us, Ron?" asked Hermione, trying to get some consolation from him.

"Err...yeah..." supplied Ron to Hermione, not really sure who she addressed the word 'us' to.

"That's right, Harry," said Hermione, slipping down her hand. "What's important is for you to be well again."

Harry looked up at her and nodded his head slowly. He smiled and thought that he did not handled the problem professionally. He was glad he had friends like them by his side.

"Now, you need to see Madam Pomfrey for those scratching marks," explained Hermione, dragging Harry towards the infirmary.

"Maybe having a less concerned friend would be good."

Ron chuckled and followed their steps.

*******

"By Merlin, who is this red Indian wizard boy?" asked Madam Pomfrey when she came to their aid. Harry's scratching on the face had left several vertical long lines on his face. Harry did not think that it was funny.

They laughed and Hermione had to explained to her that the person was Harry and had been having scratching enigma starting from the morning class. Madam Pomfrey straight away made her inspections and said that Harry would have to stay for half an hour to completely heal. In the mean time, she advised them to take a break.

They bid their goodbyes to Harry and Hermione told Harry not to be late for the next class.

"And what class will it be?" asked Harry as he was getting comfortable with the bed.

"Double Potions," replied Hermione, frowning.

Harry was lying there for a moment and relaxed himself when Madam Pomfrey came and applied something watery on the cotton wool.

"I thought students have their own timetable for their classes, Mr. Potter," asked Madam Pomfrey as she began patching up Harry's marks.

Harry looked at her and closed his eyes as the cotton was coming near his eyes.

"They do," mumbled Harry under his breath. "I was just making sure mine is correct," continued Harry, winching a bit from the pain.

"And?" asked Madam Pomfrey, changing her cotton wool.

"And it is," replied Harry, tired of giving short answers.

Harry heard her cleaning the stuff she used and he opened his eyes to see Madam Pomfrey looking intently on his face.

"That will do. The scratching marks are not that deep. Would you care to tell me how you get this, Mr. Potter?" asked Madam Pomfrey, waiting for the reply.

Harry was not ready to tell her that maybe it was because of the shaving cream he used as body soap. So, he used the usual sentence.

"I don't know, Madam Pomfrey."

She was not surprised. All around she got the same answers from her patients.

"Well then, Mr. Potter. You have to rest for..." She checked her watch, and then continued, "Yes, for twenty minutes now." She took her things on her hand and advised Harry to keep quiet and he may leave without telling her so.

Harry was tired for there were too many body movements in just one day.

"At least Malfoy would not see me like this."

Minutes passed and it was time for Harry to get out of the place. He exited the door and set his feet towards Potions class.

********

It was early though and Harry did not feel of joining Ron and Hermione in the class. He knew what they would ask and Hermione would definitely be unsatisfied since Harry's hands were unattended to. They were cuts all right, but it was not that important. Harry, instead, headed down the lawn towards the lake.

The weather was in its bright colored blue sea and the sizzling air was lightly passing through, encouraging Harry to sit under the shade of the beech tree on the edge of the lake. He messed up his hair several times by combing them with his hands and getting annoyed with the unsuccessful doing, he took his attention towards the leaves that had fallen on the ground. Harry took an old brownish leaf and began to stroke it gently. It was already broken into two and the other end was hanging, flapping itself with the blowing of the wind. Harry tried to put them together, but he could not avoid the feeling that someone was insistently watching him, causing him to rip the leaf apart when he heard a voice.

"There are some things worth gambling on, you know?"

Harry brought his face up and stared at the lake. He was still holding the leaf and started to tear them bit-by-bit. The footsteps began to move closer to Harry and stood near him as he could see the shadow of the person in front of him almost touching his own.

"I know you are good in chess. You will do well in gambling...when nurtured."

Harry shook his head and threw the leaf violently to his right. He stood up and turned to face the boy.

"You think this is just a plain game, don't you?" asked Harry, his hand molded into fists. "And what happens when it's game over, huh?" continued Harry, looking eye-to-eye with him.

"Easy. Just say that I cheated and we'll start all over again."

Harry couldn't bare it. If he didn't get out of there, he will surely regret the things that he would say and do to this boy in future. He took his chance and walked towards the castle.

"Read it again, Potter," asked the silvery blond boy as if pleading for his life to be spared.

Harry stopped dead on his track, his back on the boy. There was a tone of disappointment in it and Harry felt as if his heart had been sliced into two and served as deserts by the Dursleys. Harry couldn't think of anything else for his brain had been jammed since he received the paper.

Harry sighed. "I -I do understand it, Malfoy," said Harry, taking the written paper out of his pocket robe. He re-read it again, and then added, "I just need more..."

"What? More proof?" implied the boy, taking a step forward.

"No," replied Harry, putting his hands back to his pocket robe with the paper. He pressed it deep inside it as though trying to protect the snitch that he had nicked from the field. "I n-need more time...to think about it," replied Harry, nearly stuttering.

Draco gave another step closer to Harry and his eyes traveled to every inch of curve of Harry's hot body. Harry could hear Draco's hard breathing behind him, just like the one when quidditch practice was over and it sent his knees nearly kissing the ground.

"I know you want this to happen, Potter. Don't lie to me. As much as I hated saying this, and you could be sure about that..." trailed Draco, walking to Harry's left side, making a small round and stopping right in front of him. The wind was playing its part and joyfully teasing Draco's hair, bringing it to his eyes. He was not about to be disturbed. He looked at Harry, who was finding the grass more entertaining, and came to finish his line. "I want your pathetic little guts, your horrible messy hair and your undoubtedly irritating smile to belong to me, nobody else, but me, Potter. I still hate you, but in a gentle kind of way, which had me to think that I needed you more than life itself."

Carefully, Harry faced Draco with the intensity of breaking down right in front of him. There was sincerity in those eyes, though the speech was hurting him, but what could you expect from the boy that had been born in the world filled with darkness and sadness and for generations had been the followers of the cowardly Lord Voldermort, who knew only in using and sacrificing his faithful people for the sake of getting his hand on the one thing that would make his life free from the prophecy.

Harry took a step backward and smiled. Draco was showing no emotion towards that and kept his eyes fixed on Harry.

"I was so sure I was ready for this back then, but the thing is..." explained Harry, looking at his hands. "The thing is...it's..." continued Harry, his eyes looking at every direction, but Draco, trying to make ends meet.

"That it is late for class and things could get a lot worst than you think if you miss it without any proper reason...Mister Potter...and Mister Malfoy," replied Professor Snape, standing not too far from the two of them, hiding his arms folded on the chest under his dark cloak.

********