Tarantella

Tarantella

Chapter 2: Looking for the Music

Harry was walking slower than his normal pace towards the Great Hall. For dinner. He was feeling quite pleased with himself...

*Flashback*

Harry awoke and found himself leaning back on the stone wall of a deserted classroom. He realized that he must've dozed off and remembered that Draco Malfoy was just a step away from where he sat. The both of them were quiet. He glanced at Draco, then looked outside the window. It was dark outside. The clouds were gone but were replaced with a sprinkle of white tiny stars. The sky looked so vast and clear that night.

He turned to where Draco sat and was met with an equal stare.

"I didn't do anything to you." Said Draco.

His voice, although still deep and cool, was unusually sounding small and weak. It was even almost pitiful. But then, what was he thinking? That was Malfoy there. True, he doesn't care much about Malfoy. He doesn't care MUCH...

"I know. I don't feel any different..." Harry replied.

Just when he was about to look away, Draco spoke again.

"We better... got to the Great Hall. W might miss dinner. You go first. I don't want anyone seeing us together... you know how it is..."

This surprised Harry, but complied to the suggestion, anyway.

*End Flashback*

Harry smiled to Himself and entered the Great Hall along with a few others. He spotted Ron and Hermione still bickering and decided to sit away from them. He settled on sitting with the Quidditch team tonight and was quickly absorbed into the conversation. Surprisingly, the conversation moved on to Sacharissa Tugwood, pioneer of the beautifying potion. Anyway, Harry still occasionally peeked at the Great Hall's entrance to see if a certain Slytherin would come in for dinner. After a few minutes, Draco entered the hall accompanied with Blaise Zabini and the pair walked over to the Slytherin table.

---

A day passed by, then a week. Time ran faster than Harry expected and Ron and Hermione's squabbling still hasn't ceased. His patience was running out on them, much to his disappointment with himself, so he later resorted to having some space for himself occasionally. Today was an exception, though, because the three of them were working on a project for Herbology class. That meant more time with them and that also meant he was going to spend all day listening to their argument. Last time, it was about Quidditch, then it was about Snape's hair, then now, it was about which plant they were going to use for their project.

"Ron, you are being unreasonable!"

"No, I am not! Why use some plant you can't even say the name clearly, when we can use something like-,"

"Like what?!"

"Like... Like Buboter Puss!"

"Ronald Weasley, if you want to use it that much, you can do your project on your own then."

"Fine! I don't' need your help! Harry, let's come along now."

Ron was going to reach for Harry when Hermione blocked his path.

"Oh no, you don't! Harry's doing the project with me, not you."

"No, he is not! He's doing the project with me!"

Harry was on the edge now. He wasn't going to take any of this... Not one bit more.

"Guys! Would you just please stop this!!"

Both Ron and Hermione stared at him.

As much as he hated to admit it, Harry was overwhelmed at the feeling of shouting at them. It wasn't good but the release was so... great. The regret came hitting him quite fast though, but the guilt lowered back down when he saw the glares the two were passing at each other.

"Look," he took a deep breath. "I can't stand what you two are doing right now. And frankly, I'm getting so annoyed that I feel like breaking things. Unless you two stop fighting, we won't get anywhere. For now, let's just resort to doing our own projects separately. That'll give us all a time to cool off."

With that, Harry turned and left the room, massaging his temples. He walked without a specific direction. Anywhere would be fine right now, actually. So he just walked, a bit briskly, as his mind fragment his thoughts into little bits and he didn't realize it, but his thoughts were suddenly, completely blank. He was walking without an aim, nowhere to go and no thoughts in hid head, to top it all off. He sharply turned a curb when he felt another body bump into him. The only thing that he saw before they fell, whoever they was, was the green portions of this person's clothes.

Harry quickly got to his feet; followed by the stranger he bumped into. As he put his glasses back in place, he saw that the person was Blaise Zabini. A very irritated Blaise Zabini, at that. Harry couldn't help but rub his temples again. Things were definitely not going as smoothly. He was about to turn and leave when Blaise piercingly said, "Bloody hell, Potter, can you not suddenly pop out in curbs or something!?"

Harry hadn't the chance to retort, but then heard the chocolate haired Slytherin mutter, "...Where the hell is Draco Malfoy?"

---

Draco was sitting alone in the Quidditch Pitch. The air gave a chill whenever it blew, the sky, clear as it was before. The stars were still clearly visible. 'Exactly what I need right now,' Draco thought. He was right. He needed to take his mind off of things. He constantly kept thinking about when he's going to get the Dark Mark and all. How he must go through the tough 'training' his father might give him when school ends. In fact, the verbal insults his father gives him were coming in more frequently now. Of course, that doesn't affect Draco much. Just the physical things. Not exactly that he was getting hurt; it was because h knew that it was just the beginning, and if the time comes that he is given the Dark Mark, the punishments will come and come continuously, especially because, sure, he's an insolent brat, one that nobody can stand except for those like him, but he wasn't going to go as far as joining the butt licking Death Eaters just to insult certain people. He wasn't a good-goody either. It's just the caste mentality in his brain that makes him do such nasty stuff. Of course, one couldn't resist bragging when you have a body like his. Really. Seriously speaking. You can't deny what even fools can see. He's sexy, irresistible, tempting... But that was beside the point.

That was a lot to think about...

So he just looked up at the stars, his back laid down on the green, freshly cut grass, staring up at the dark, glittery sky. He so wanted to count the stars that moment, just to get his mind out of the burdens life had presented him. He sighed and there he stayed, pondering his self away.

---

Harry knew where to go. The place where the sky could be clearly seen, where the grass was good enough to lie on. Where else but the Quidditch Pitch.

Harry stepped on the grass and breathed deeply the chill air softly caressing his face. He smiled at this and walked languidly, sporadically glancing up at the stars.

'Just like how it had been woke up beside Draco...'

Harry laughed at the thought. The way he put it, it was as if... Well, you know what that was...

He thought about lots of things. He was in his sixth year at Hogwarts. Time flew by quickly on him, he thought. In just less than two years, he'll be on his own. He thought about Voldemort and what he could plot for him next. Thought about what else people could expect from him, now that he was older. Lastly, he thought about Draco Malfoy; how he'd been acting so civilly towards him now. That meant not insulting him. Still the occasional glares, but besides that, Harry noticed that Draco was growing more and more quiet.

He thought deep into this and looked straight up, not ceasing to walk as he neared the unnoticeable lump with blonde hair and Slytherin uniform in the very ground he was walking on...

----------