Shattered

Chapter Three

So I saw some people looked at the fic. If would be wonderful if you reviewed it! Please do. Sorry to bother you.

Oh, how much I hate Potter.

Oh, how much I hate myself.

Harry

Harry stared after Malfoy's retreating form. What was that about? Had he done something? But then he remembered it was Malfoy.  Had he really thought that just because of today they were friends? With that thought he suddenly remembered he was still covered with mud and rushed to the dormitory. As he reached the proper portrait, a 4th year popped around the corner. 

Harry noted that he was a Gryffindor. He was about to ask if the boy needed anything before the 4th year screeched at him, "It's your fault! If you had been faster, my sister would have survived! She wouldn't be DEAD!" The fourth year continued to yell abuse while Harry hung his head and tugged on his sleeves. All that the boy was saying was true. If he had just been faster, if he had just- suddenly he was tugged inside the dormitory. 

"Harry! Are you alright?" Harry once again looked into the worried eyes of Hermione. "That awful boy, I told him to go away. Are you sure you're alright?" Harry just stared at her blankly. The boy was right. He didn't deserve anything, and he certainly didn't deserve Hermione. 

"I'm fine." Harry felt like he said those words way too often, Harry felt like he lied way too often. Not wanting to look at Hermione, he glanced around the common room. It was split into the thirds, each section had the colours of a house, except Ravenclaw, no Ravenclaw's had returned that year. The chairs however, were a neutral purple. They looked very comfortable.

Ron sat on the couch, clearly waiting for Hermione to come back and join him, but also worried for Harry. Dean and Seamus sat on a single chair pressed up to each other, their legs intertwined. Dean was reading while Seamus slept. The two Hufflepuffs giggled in the corner two chairs. 

"I'll be in my room," he said to Hermione, "and I'm fine." Hermione nodded, clearly not believing him. But she let him go anyways.

"Okay, but Harry?" 

"Yes?"

"Be careful with Malfoy, I know he choose our side in the war, but just be careful."

"I will, but can I go now, I'm still covered in mud," he brushed his hand through his messy hair, flecks of mud dropping to the floor."

"Oh, sorry," Hermione blushed, "See you," she let go of his hand. 

"Oi, mate," Ron called as Harry started to walk to his room, "after you clean up, you wanna play exploding snaps?" Harry turned around to answer.

"Maybe. See you, Ron, Hermione." He stalked off to his and Malfoy's room, wanting to press a blade to his flesh, but no, he promised himself he would stop, he promised that Hogwarts would be blood free. When he opened the door saw half of the room blueish grey, the other half emerald grey. The half of the room that was blueish grey held a bed with the Gryffindor colours, and across the room was a bed with the Slytherin colours. By his bed was his things. He reached into his trunk to grab a towel, before hearing a door open.

When he turned around, Draco Malfoy stood behind him wearing only a towel. Harry felt his eyes scan Malfoy's chest, which was as pale as the rest of him. His form slim and elegant. Harry blushed beet red. Forcing himself to return his gaze to Malfoy's blueish grey eyes, he saw Malfoy nod to the room, "The walls are enchanted to show you're favourite colour."