Carry On

Chapter 10

   It was a few days into break, and Harry was surprisingly content. Usually he would be suffering from unbearable boredom by now, but after months of rarely being left alone, it felt nice to have time to himself.
   Hermione had already sent him several owls, all of them concerning his health. Though, this most recent one also included how the Weasley's were, as she had arrived at The Burrow with her parents that day. I was half tempted to simply not respond, but immediately decided against it. She would only send a howler, something I did not want to deal with, even with such a small audience. I couldn't help but smile at the memory of Ron getting one from Mrs. Weasley in second year. Ron had been absolutely terrified, and rightfully so. Mrs. Weasley could be downright frightening when she wanted to be.
   Currently, Harry was sitting at a window seat, staring at the front gates of Hogwarts, and had been for nearly an hour. He had been completely lost in thought when he saw someone with a head of pale blue hair walk up, carrying a trunk. Harry was confused, he didn't remember anyone with blue hair at Hogwarts. As the figure grew closer he was finally able to make out who it was, and was shocked.
   "Draco?" I asked to the air surrounding me. I watched as he walked up the stone steps, and through the front door. I stared at where he had been well after he had already entered the castle. After nearly twenty more minutes, I finally left and headed toward the eighth year dorms.
   I entered the common room, and was startled by a loud noise from upstairs. After a moment of thought, I ran up the stairs to the boys dorm, and located the source of the loud crash. I found it, unsurprisingly, to be coming from Draco's room. Hesitantly, Harry approached the door, and knocked softly, almost hoping he wouldn't be heard. A few moments after, the form of Draco Malfoy filled the doorframe.
   "What, Pot...Harry?" He asked sharply. I tried to form a response, but found my mouth dry, and unable to form words.
   I looked Draco up and down, taking in his new appearance. As I had seen earlier, his hair was a beautiful sky blue, matching his grey eyes perfectly. He had one ear pierced, and what appeared to be a small dagger dangling from a chain, bouncing against his jaw. But what was the most shocking, was his arm. The Slytherin usually wore long sleeves, presumably to cover the dark mark. They hadn't faded, even after Voldemort's death. But what was once ugly and evil, was now utterly beautiful. The snake was still clearly there, but was now surrounded by narcissus flowers. I stared at him, open mouthed.
   "Harry?" He asked, seemingly uncomfortable. It was only then did I realize I was staring.
   "Oh, yeah. Sorry. Um... I heard a noise, so, um...yeah." I finished lamely, not meeting his eyes.
   "Oh. I simply dropped my trunk. Nothing to worry yourself over." He said, a clear edge to his voice. I saw his jaw clench and unclench. He was angry. After years of being the cause, I knew how the blue haired boy looked when enraged.
   "Is something wrong?" I asked, finally looking into his silvery eyes. I saw shock briefly show, though it quickly disappeared.
   "It is nothing of your concern, Potter." He said, clearly straining to keep his composure. Something must have seriously upset him for his mask to begin to crumble so quickly.
   "So something is wrong, then." I insisted. "What is it?" I ask. I knew I was pushing it, but I couldn't bring myself to care.
   "Nothing, Harry." He sighed. "It's nothing of importance." He turned, leaving the door open. I saw him walk over to his trunk, continuing to unpack.
   "Yes it is important." I continued, leaning against the doorframe. "Something is clearly upsetting you. There's still weeks of break left, yet you came back early. What is it?" I repeated. I heard him sigh again.
   "Fine. My mother wants me to go see my father in Azkaban." He stated. I was surprised. I had always assumed that their relationship was all well and good, even after the war. Though, thinking that now seemed ridiculous. Draco must have seen my confusion, as he continued. "I have no reason to see him. He ruined his life by aligning himself with the Dark Lord, and in turn, forced me to do the same. I have nothing to say to him, and I won't ruin my holiday by doing so." He finished, staring at his half unpacked trunk.
   "Oh. I guess I never thought of that." I mumbled, rather stupidly. "I like your tattoo." I said suddenly, barely realizing I spoke those words aloud. Draco seemed relieved at the subject change, his muscles relaxing slightly.
   "Thank you. I had it done a few days ago." He said, running his fingers lightly over the inked flowers.
   "Why narcissus? For your mother?" I asked, unable to keep the question to myself. He stiffened slightly, though almost immediately relaxed again.
   "Yes." He answered shortly. "I really must get back to unpacking, Harry. So if you wouldn't mind..." He trailed off.
   "Oh! Yeah. Sorry." I stumbled over my words. I gave him a quick wave and walked back over to my own dorm room, a certain blue haired boy plaguing my thoughts.
   I entered my room, and, after a few minutes of thought, decided to finish the last of my assignments. All I had left was a charms essay. I grabbed some parchment and a quill, and just as I was about to begin, I heard a tapping on my bedroom window. Confused, I walked over. Hermione had already sent a letter this morning, and it couldn't be anyone else, as no one else had bothered to send me an owl. I opened the curtains and saw Pig excitingly flapping his wings. I sighed. I had never even thought Ron would send me an owl, he hasn't at all over the break. I quickly let the owl in, and untied the letter from its leg.
   Hey mate,
You okay? 'Mione says that you've been 'having difficulties,' whatever that means. You would tell me if something was wrong, right? We're best mates, so if you need to talk, just send an owl.
   Mom's still upset that you didn't come back to the Burrow, what's that about anyway? I know that it's already a bit into the hols, but you can always come here.
   Ron
   I sighed, slightly angry. Why did Hermione have to tell Ron? It was my problem, and I shouldn't have even told her in the first place. Now Ron is going to be asking about it. Great.
   He didn't think he had the energy or patience to finish his charms essay. Instead of writing a quick reply, he got up and left his room, ignoring the owl flying around in circles. He had left the window open, Pig'll find it eventually. I'll just go for a walk, then I'll owl Ron, he thought. He let his feet guide him, not really having any destination in mind. After a few minutes, he realized he was in front of the quiddich pitch, or at least the new one that was built after the battle. He walked up to the Gryffindor stands, and sat. It was one of the few days this winter that it wasn't snowing, though it was still cold. I took out my wand and cast a few warming charms, hoping not to freeze too much.
   The letter from Ron irritated me for some reason. I have no clues as to why, but it did. Lately, things that I used to never think twice about have been overwhelming me. All of the stares and whispering. The rumors, and even the articles in the Prophet. I used to just ignore it all and not let it affect me, but now...
   Also, things I used to think mattered, just don't anymore. Like my relationship with Ginny. Before the final battle, I used to think about her constantly. Is she alright? Where is she? Does she miss me? But after, when I was staying at the Burrow, I just didn't care. As awful as that sounds, it's the truth. That's why we ended it. I knew I shouldn't lead her on, and should let her be with someone who she would mean the world to. I wasn't even on the quiddich team anymore. They offered for me to continue with my seeker position, but I declined. I haven't even been on a broomstick at all since the fire in the Room of Requirements.
   Everything was just so confusing. My emotions were running wild, and I didn't know how to deal with it, or slow them down. I hadn't even felt happy, or smiled for that matter, since Draco and I called a truce.
   The winter chill was finally starting to seep through the warming charms, forcing him to leave the quiddich pitch. He walked up the stairs, and to the common room, deciding to write Ron back. He walked up to his room and grabbed the parchment and quill. After a few moments of thought, he decided to write it in the common room. It was far more comfortable than his desk, and he was less likely to break things around him in frustration. He jogged down the steps, parchment and self-inking quill in hand. He quickly sat down in the comfiest chair with a desk in front of it, and began to write his response. Most of it was lies, pure and simple. Saying that he was fine, that he didn't know what Hermione was talking about (even though he knew he would get quite a tongue lashing from her when the holiday was over.) He continued to say that Ron was his best mate, and would tell him if something was wrong. Somehow without breaking his quill or tearing the parchment, he finished his response. He had let Pig out a while ago, so he would have to go to the owlery to send it. Later, I thought. I was far too comfortable to get up now. Unfortunately, that meant he didn't realise when he fell asleep in the middle of the common room.
  
Mild trigger warning!!