Title: Sympathize With Me (]Part 4[)
Author: vinacross / halfbloodcross
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Rowling still has them. I'm planning a jailbreak, though.
Surprise! No lyrics this time. o_o!
Warnings: HPB Spoilers
Summary: In which Harry denies and dreams.
Words: 546
A/N: Beta-ed by lilmissayahime. Not much at all. I have such a hard time writing my idea of what Harry is like that this was all I could come up with. @_@



The Gryffindor Quidditch Team was happy. Understatement--they were ecstatic. And Harry Potter had, for some reason, ensconced himself in the windowseat of the Boys' dormatory. He was happy about the victory of course--how could he be Captain and not be happy that his team had won? It was only that he had so many things on his mind.
Ron had been waiting up for him to come in, but he had dispatched the red-head easily, saying he didn't feel well and didn't want to ruin his friends' party. It was more than that, naturally, but he had found it easier and easier recently to hide things from his fellow Gryffindors--and as they were the only true friends he had, he ended up hiding things from everyone he knew.


The moonlight pooling on the grounds below the window would've been beautiful any other year, and he would have been content to share this time with at least Hedwig. Now, he only wanted to be alone. He felt as though the thoughts that skittered through his mind like spiders would betray him somehow and let themselves be shared if he caved under the pressure of loneliness and asked for company.

It hadn't been too bad, really. He had put the entire ordeal out of his mind--or, he forced himself to think so. He hadn't told Ron or Hermione, of course. It would've been embarassing. They would have been scandalized. So he had resolved to not think about it.

He had gone through his entire detention with Snape without having one whisper of Draco Malfoy in his mind. He had thought of Quidditch, which he was missing because of Malfoy, and he pondered over the sinister and probably very Dark sneaking around that Malfoy was doing. But did he think of the Slytherin himself? Of course not. Not at all. Not a bit.

Malfoy was the farthest thing from his mind.

When Harry stepped through the portrait hole that afternoon, his entire field of vision had been immediately obscured by a smiling, befreckled face bordered in copper-colored hair.

Ginny.

She was glowing with joy and naturally beautiful--of course she was; she was a girl, and a good friend, and as un-Slytherin as any one person could be. And when she came to hug him and tell him about the victory, he had turned his lips away from her kiss only because Ron was watching and it would be a fine mess to get himself into.

She had seemed a little perplexed--and why not? She had probably never had anyone turn down one of her kisses in her entire life. And Harry hadn't turned her down--because he really did like her--it was only that he was so caught up with the thousand different thoughts running through his head and--

He shook his head in an endeavor to clear it of the confusion welling from the back of his mind. Certain that his only problem was fatigue, the Gryffindor retired to bed, closing the hangings around him so as to plunge himself into complete darkness.

When sleep finally took Harry, he dreamed much the same as he had since the very beginning of the year. But when had Ginny ever looked so pale? And why did her eyes seem so grey?

Need To Catch Up?

Recently there have been errors when I try to link to prior chapters--no matter what links I use. @_@

However, you can access prior chapters by visiting my [Bad username: “halfbloodcross”] journal.

X-posted to [Bad username: “harrydraco”], harry_draco and sec_tum_sem_pra