To busy reminiscing on days that he was actually happy, Harry completely forgot that he had mounds of homework to do, and fell asleep on the armchair.
He awoke not long later, his neck aching from the uncomfortable position he had fallen asleep in. He looked down to his watch, and remembered that it had stopped working last year, after being underwater for too long. Standing up and stretching, Harry felt grateful for it being a weekend day and lazily strolled over to the door. Opening it quietly, he peeked out to make sure no one was coming, and when he felt safe he stepped over the threshold of the Room of Requirement, and into the corridor.
Remembering that Angelina had scheduled quidditch practice today, Harry considered going. He had already used the ‘sick’ excuse quite a few times, and Harry doubted whether Angelina would buy it again, or if she even had at all.
This newfound feeling of being content felt odd to Harry, as though a large and heavy weight had lifted off his chest. He wanted to attend practice, and to actually talk to some one, instead of constantly fighting with himself, and his emotions.
Seeing peeves unscrewing a light fixture ahead in the corridor, Harry quietly slipped through one of the many shortcuts he knew to get to the Gryffindor common room.
“Sugar Quills.” Harry said to the fat lady, who swung open, revealing the portrait hole. Walking inside, Harry say Ginny sitting at one of the tables, and instead of avoiding her inviting wave, he put his hand in his pockets, and joined her.
“Harry,” Ginny said, pushing aside the homework she was working on, “You can’t get out of practice today, Angelina will go nuts. How are we supposed to practice without the seeker.” she looked up into his face, her eyes a brilliant shade of green that seemed to glitter and sparkle when the light from the window would shine in them.
Before Harry could answer she added, “You’re planning on quitting the team are you?” she asked suspiciously.
Harry grinned, and for the first time in a while it was a real grin, “No of course not, I’m the best seeker they’ve had in ages.”
Considering Ginny didn’t expect Harrys presence to much, she didn’t feel as discarded as Ron and Hermione did about Harrys new tendencies to be alone, though they hadn’t really talked since Harry had stayed at the burrow. The few times she had wanted to talk to Harry, Harry had mumbled some excuse of being busy, or having to study.
Ginny did look like she was nervous however, and Harry assumed that either Ron, or Hermione, had told her about how Harry had been treating them lately. Feeling like it was the right time to apologize, Harry stood up and said, “I’m feeling loads better than I have been lately, I think it was just the flu, so I’ll be at practice. Do you know where Ron is?” he asked.
“Yea, he and Hermione are in the library,” Ginny replied, and grabbed his arm, making him look directly at her, “Promise me you’ll be at practice Harry, I’m kind of worried about you, you know.” she said, looking completely serious. Harry could see concern etched in here eyes.
Holding her hand he said, “I’ll be there.” seeing Ginnys’ expression become impatient, Harry added, “I promise, ok?”
“OK.” she said, and let his hand go.
After running up to the dormitory to get his bag, Harry headed out to the library, waving to Ginny as he left the common room. He found them at a table near the front, both of them with their noses in books, neither talking.
“Hey…” he said, some what nervously, not knowing how they would react to him after being ignored for so long.
Hermione looked up agitatedly, then noticed that it was Harry. “Harry, hi…”
“Mind if I sit down?” Harry asked, setting his book bag on the floor beside an empty chair.
Ron, looking just as precautious as Hermione said, “No mate.. Of course not.”
Neither Ron nor Hermione questioned what brought about Harrys new mood, but it looked as though they both doubted it would last. Harry himself didn’t know why he was feeling better than he had been lately, other than feeling greatly relieved that at least some one knew how he felt. That person being Draco was just as horrible as his confusion itself though.
After Harry had once again taken out his potions book, intent on writing the essay he had been given as make-up work, he glanced up, deciding whether he should spill his guts or not. Firstly, he thought, he should just apologize.
“Look… I just wanted to say I know I’ve been being a real prat lately,” he started, not sure of exactly what he should say, “It’s just-”
Hermione interrupted, the same concerned look on her face as Ginny had, had, “It’s all right Harry, but you should know that you can talk to us.” she looked over at Ron.
“Yea… of course, Harry.” said Ron, who looked like he wasn’t as eager to forgive Harrys rudeness as Hermione was.
Harry looked away, his eyes distant; once again he was slipping into an apathetic mood. He could tell that neither of them really wanted to speak to him, and he couldn’t deny that they had reasons to be angry. Before he had the chance to make up an excuse though, he noticed that Ron was glaring in the direction of the library entrance. Following Rons gaze, Harry saw Draco striding past the front desk, and towards where they were sitting.
“I gotta go, I forgot that I have quidditch practice, but I’ll catch up with you guys later OK?” Harry said quickly, stuffing his still undone work back into his bag.
Looking slightly confused, Ron and Hermione both just shrugged, and said “See you later Harry.”
Shoving past Draco on his way out, Harry trotted back to the common room to change. He would practice flying until the other players got there.
After Harry had changed, and got the case holding the balls, Harry walked out into the afternoon sun, considering the playing conditions. There wasn’t much wind, which was good, and the sun wasn’t directly over the pitch to create a glare. He set down the ball case, mounted his Firebolt and kicked off from the ground.
Feeling the wind rush into his face was just as exciting and exhilarating as it had been during his first Quidditch game. After a few times around the pitch, he touched back down, ready to let out the snitch. As he was opening the case, he saw a tall blonde figure running towards him.
“Oi! Potter!” Draco bellowed, quickening his stride as Harry started to mount his broom.
“Damnit Harry, would you quit running away from me?”
Becoming extremely annoyed at Dracos increasing effort to talk to him, Harry set his broom on the ground, and started walking towards Draco. Once they were five or less feet away from each other, there was a moment of silence, both glancing into each others eyes.
“Look, Draco, it was nothing personal… I’m surprised you haven’t spread it all around school by now.” Harry said, trying to sound supercilious, and snide, but there was an uncertainness to his voice.
Draco laughed, “My name on it, and its not supposed to be personal?”
“I…” Harry mumbled, not sure what to say. His sexuality was not something he felt he should be discussing with Draco.
“What, Potter? Do you have some kind of man-crush on me, or something?” Draco jeered, but when Harry turned away he said, “No, don’t…. I’m serious…”
Both he and Harrys face turned bright scarlet red, although it was much more noticeable on Dracos pale skin.
Harry stopped, and turned around again facing Draco, “What do you mean, “man-crush” he asked, not knowing how to answer. Why was Draco being so unlike himself?
Draco shuffled his feet uncomfortably, “You know what I mean Potter… Harry.”
“It’s none of your business really, who I have any sort of crush on. And no, even if I were gay I sure as hell wouldn’t have a crush on you, Malfoy.” said Harry, putting extra emphasis on Dracos name. For whatever reason Draco was being so nice, Harry was sure it wasn’t so he and Harry could have a nice heart to heart.
Anger flared though Dracos face, erasing the embarrassment that had left its red marks across it. “Fine then, Potter, but I’m sure your little mudblood girl friend, Ginny or whichever Weasley it is wouldn’t like to know you’ve been fantasizing about me, now would-”
Dracos face turned a bright shade of puce as he tried to open his mouth, but couldn’t. Harry advanced on him, his wand held high, “Don’t call her a mudblood,”
Watching as Dracos eyes worked furiously, Harry considered stupefying him and throwing him in the changing room. Deciding it’d be best to just leave him as he was, Harry turned, picked his broom back up and mounted.
Giving one final look at Malfoy, who had turned away and was running back to the castle, Harry kicked off. After a few times around the pitch, he remembered he had landed to let the snitch out, and returned to the ground again.
****
Practice went as well as could be expected, not having been flying much this year. Harry had seen the snitch quite a few times, but each time he had been hit by a bludger, because he wasn’t paying attention. The rest of the team was flying extremely well, and Harry wished that he had been more active. Monday classes proved that he should have been paying more attention there too.