Unheard Of

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Notes: Right. Okay then, I’m changing a couple things. I’m going for a more subtle approach here, and I’m considering adding a little het drama, w00t. Jealousy is a most effective monster.

Secondly…changed the font, as I love Arial more than Times New Roman. It’s smaller, too, but there you are. My writing style has changed a bit more as well. Hopefully, that’s all an improvement.

Oh, and I am now going to refer to Draco Malfoy as Draco. Because I want to. I’m also going to be paying a lot more attention to Harry here. Er, yes. I’ll eventually revise all of Chapter One, but for no, neh. IMHO, this chapter is heads and shoulders above the first one. Also, Harry freaks out a bit here. Ophiuchus, my wonderful and talented beta without whom I would be lost, (who also wrote the previous line concerning herself during her beta duty) referred to it as The Boy Who Went Cuckoo, but it’s really not that bad. If I didn’t know her in real life, I’d love her to pieces. Er, not that I don’t. *Pets Ophi*

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Chapter Two: Face to Face

Once he was in the safety of the boy’s changing room, Harry forced his sticky, informal Quidditch robes off.

"What sort of prat does he think I am?" he demanded hotly, jerking the shower knob to full pressure. "Why would I want to tell anyone his stupid problems, anyways? I don’t care!" Harry stepped into the shower and yanked hard on the shower curtains, encasing himself in water and steam.

"You’d think the Wizarding World revolved around the Malfoys with the way he was carrying on," Harry muttered bitterly. He glooped shampoo on his head, shoved his hands in his hair, and roughly washed it. "I mean, honestly, who cares? Who gives a damn? Well, I don’t, that’s for sure!"

After losing his train of rant, Harry resorted to washing himself furiously in an attempt to block out his earlier run-in with Malfoy.

*

Draco - after abandoning the thought of Quidditch practice - stalked down the Hallway to the Slytherin Common Room. Halting in front of a wall, he muttered ‘Slytherin pride’, and continued to stalk upstairs to his dormitory. He flung open the door and immediately began to viciously pummel his pillow, emphasizing each word with a punch. "Stupid - worthless - Potter - ruining - everything - hate - him -"

After quite a few minutes of malevolent pillow pummeling, Draco was panting and red-faced. "Stupid father…" Draco threw the pillow against the headboard of his bed, and felt slightly satisfied with the soft thud it made. Straightening his robes, he emerged from his dormitory and back into the common room where he received several stares from the few occupants of the room.

"What are you looking at?" he growled, walking down the steps with dignified grace. "Go on - it’s dinner. I said, go on."

The room emptied, Draco leaving last.

*

Before Harry knew it, Quidditch matches were on. They had held tryouts for the Gryffindor Keeper and Captain - and to Harry’s surprise and delight, Ron had been chosen for both positions. He demonstrated a zeal for plays that Oliver Wood would have been proud of. Ron worked them into the mud every chance he got. There had also been tryouts for Beaters and Chasers, and the Gryffindor roster now read thus:

Beater (1 of 2) - Joshua Jenkins, Fourth Year.
Beater (2 of 2) - Sara McFee, Fifth Year.
Chaser (1 of 3) - Jordan Jenkins, Third Year.
Chaser (2 of 3) - Laura Avery, Fourth Year.
Chaser (3 of 3) - Natalie McDonald, Second Year.
Keeper (1 of 1) - Ronald Weasley, Sixth Year.
Seeker (1 of 1) - Harry Potter, Sixth Year.
Gryffindor Captain: Ronald Weasley.
Head of House: Professor M. McGonagall.

First up was Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw - and Harry wasn’t looking forward to it. Cho Chang had ignored Harry completely last year, and she refused to hear any explanations or apologies.

"Please, Cho, you need to understand -" Harry began softly, making his last, brave attempt.

"There’s nothing to understand!" Cho exclaimed harshly. "We all know what happened! You - you - you killed Cedric! You don’t - couldn’t - understand! It’s in the papers - everywhere - I know the truth!" With that, Cho ran away, leaving Harry stunned, students pointing and whispering and staring…

Harry could recall bitterly thinking, ‘I’m Harry Potter, remember? Of course I understand.’ but he hadn’t bothered to pursue it, or even speak to Cho for the rest of the year.

"All right, Harry?" Ron asked, poking his head into the dormitory. "Almost Quidditch time! - Better get changed, now. Come on!"

Groaning about the insanity of scheduling a Quidditch Match so early (it was presently 11 AM), Harry pulled himself out of bed, and trudged down to the Gryffindor changing rooms.

"All right there, Harry?" Jordan asked, grinning as he shoved his Quidditch robes on nervously. "Checked out their Seeker? Their Chasers don’t look too bad, mind -"

Harry nodded and ‘mm-hmm’-ed absentmindedly at Jordan’s ramblings as he thought of Cho, and how he hadn’t taken the time to check out any new moves she might have acquired…Harry sighed, snapping his shin guards on. Hopefully, Cho wouldn’t be too ruthless…

"Team!" Ron snapped. "Field - now!"

Ron and Harry marched together towards the field, backed by the Chasers: Natalie, - who was looking rather green - Laura, and Jordan. Joshua and Sara - Beaters - flanked the latter two.

"Joshua - stop hitting Jordan with that stick!" Ron burst out suddenly, sans turning around.

"It’s not a stick, Cap’n," Joshua exclaimed indignantly, drawing himself up to his full five-foot-eight-inches height. "It’s an enchanted bat, I’ll have you know!"

"Oh, I stand corrected. It’s a magic stick."

"Sort of like a wand, except you get to hit things with it."

"It is not a stick!" Joshua exclaimed in exasperation, smacking Ron’s arm with the ‘enchanted bat’.

"You can hit things with a wand, too."

"Hey! That hurt, you idiot!"

"Yes, but that’s very rude, don’t you think?" Laura Avery asked.

"Unless it’s a Slytherin."

"Ooh, yes, that’s right."

"Well put, Natalie!"

"Okay, Slytherins exempt to the rule, -"

"- versus GRYFFINDOR!"

Although momentarily startled by Margie Kerber’s - Lee Jordan’s successor in woefully biased commentary - strong voice from Hufflepuff, the Gryffindor team leaped on their brooms and flew onto the pitch to find Ravenclaw already there. Cheers and hollers of encouragement - and demeaning commentary towards the opposing team - filled the pitch.

After what felt like only a few whirs, Madam Hooch blew the whistle for attention. "Captains - shake!"

Ron landed in front of the Ravenclaw team’s Captain, the tall and fair Lisa Turpin, a fellow Sixth Year and Beater. Harry noticed the back of Ron’s neck turn red when he touched her hand.

"Into position!" Hooch shouted.

"The Quaffle is released, and the game begins!" Margie shouted happily. "Laura Avery of Gryffindor in possession -"

As soon as Laura took the Quaffle, Harry sped upwards to search the skies. His eyes darted across the pitch, hoping desperately to make this a quick match.

"- oh - lucky save by Laverne! - Ravenclaw in possession -"

Harry moaned and tried to look harder when -

"I’ll bet you enjoyed it, didn’t you," a voice hissed from behind him.

Harry whipped around on his broom. "Cho? What -?"

Her eyes were sunken - hollow - and her voice was fingernails across a chalkboard. "Enjoyed killing my Cedric. Blaming it on You-Know-Who. I know the truth, Harry…" Cho’s lips turned into a bitter frown.

"You know that’s not true, Cho," Harry said quietly, forcing himself to move away from her.

"- Gulls in possession - oh - that probably hurt! -" Margie sounded rather cheerful as she said this in reference to the Ravenclaw fifth year. "- McFee’s somehow legal Bludger manages to put off a Ravenclaw goal - Gryffindor in possession -"

Harry zigzagged across the pitch, eyes roving agitatedly over a frenzied sea of scarlet and marine robes. He could hear a whoosh from behind him - knew she was coming back to taunt him. As he swooped lower, Harry heard her shout at him.

"Running away, Harry? You can’t run from Truth! You can’t run from Justice! It will be avenged! - I will avenge it!" With her last words, Cho spiraled down to him -

- and Harry took off, shooting towards the other side of the pitch, coiling downwards and upwards in an effort to avoid whatever Cho might try…

"- an astonishing display by both Seekers! - what’re they trying to pull? - Jenkins in possession - and, Lord! -"

A roar from the crowd marked the third goal for Gryffindor, and Harry subconsciously noted that if he saw the Snitch soon, they’d win and Cho would be gloriously gone -

"You can’t run, Harry!" Cho was screaming from behind him, "You can’t hide! I’ll get you back - just you wait!"

Harry sped across the pitch and looked back to Cho who was red-faced and furious, flying towards him in front of the stands -

- when he something gold glinted over her shoulder. Astonished at his good luck, Harry accelerated straight at Cho.

Cho had no time to even blink before Harry soared past her - "Harry Potter’s spotted the Snitch!" - directly into the crowd. (People were falling all over each other to get out of the stands, save he might hit them.)

He snatched the Snitch out of the air, and as he felt its wings thrashing defeatedly against his palm, Harry felt at ease for the first time during that match…

*

"Great job, Harry - we’re ahead!"

"Thanks, Natalie -"

"Wonderful work, Jordan, Laura and Natalie," Ron said pompously, sounding awfully like Percy.

After several minutes of idle chatter about the game…"Hey, Harry," Joshua began, "what was with the Ravenclaw Seeker?"

Laura joined in. "Yeah - she was looking really weird, I thought…"

"She was yelling at him, goodness, couldn’t you hear her?" Sara asked in surprise. "What was she saying, Harry?"

"She was…" Harry looked down, clutching the hem of his robes.. "…two years back…you know…C-Cedric…that I…I…"

An uneasy silence overtook the room. It took a moment for the team to grasp what Harry was implying. Gasps immediately flew from mouths along with a strong expletive from Ron.

"What! But - she couldn’t -"

"- the sheer nerve of her!"

"How could she believe you’d do that? Especially since -"

"- no doubt about that!"

Harry cleared his throat over the outraged and aghast comments. "…Do the papers really claim that I…?"

Ron looked away as the rest of the team looked uncomfortable and muttered various incoherencables. "They - they actually do…?" Harry asked, his head spinning. "But…but…"

"It’s all right, mate," Ron muttered close to Harry’s ear, placing a consoling hand on his shoulder. "We all know you didn’t do. Some people are just - blind - about it…Don’t worry, Harry. We can recognize truth."

*

The following days - meal times and class times - were nothing particularly special to Harry. Cho still avoided him although she would sometimes cast an angst-ridden glare in his direction during the said meal times. Feeble though his attempts were, Harry tried to ignore this.

In addition to Cho’s avoidance, Harry’s life altered with one small change, albeit increasing dramatically in constancy. He had become aware of Draco Malfoy’s stares. Harry could feel the blonde’s eyes boring into him wherever he went like some estranged curse.

"He stares at me, I’m telling you!" Harry fervently claimed in the Common Room one evening.

Hermione raised her eyebrows over her Arithmancy textbook. "Really, Harry, are you sure? You might just be imagining it. After all - what would Malfoy stare at you for?"

"Yeah, Harry. Oh, come on -" Ron said, blotting his History of Magic homework.

"I don’t know why he does it - he just does!" Harry exclaimed, pounding the table and causing Ron to swear just as loudly, blotting his homework several times.

"You’re probably just imagining it, Harry! Er, how about this -" Ron hastened, seeing Harry’s furious look "- tomorrow, me and Hermione’ll look for it, all right?"

"You’ll see, then!"

"Er, yes, Harry - we will." Harry didn’t miss the worried glance Hermione shot at Ron which clearing said He’s Taken One Too Many Bludgers to the Head. "Now - you’ve got a ton of History of Magic to do for tomorrow, so you’d better get started!"

*

Over the course of the next day, Harry proved himself to be right - Draco was staring at him.

"That’s so - so - well, creepy!" Hermione whispered ardently across the table to them with Ron nodding his head in fervid agreement.

"I told you! Why do you think - ?" Harry asked, trying to glance casually over Hermione’s shoulder at Draco - who was staring right back at him. Harry immediately ducked down close to the table. "He’s doing it again!" he exclaimed in a fierce whisper, his cheeks flushing hotly.

Ginny was looking at him curiously a few seats down. Harry made a quick gesture was supposed to mean ‘Don’t look at me!’. Unfortunately, Ginny misread this, and came over to stand behind Hermione. Harry could have died.

"What are you doing, Harry?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"Shhh! Keep your voice down!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry - don’t you think you’re being a little bit paranoid about this? I mean, really, all he’s doing is looking at you!"

"Who is?" Ginny asked loudly, standing up to look around the Great Hall.

Harry’s arm shot out across the table and he yanked Ginny’s robes downwards, and she followed, saying, "What - !?"

"Draco Malfoy, Ginny! He’s staring at me like he’s going to kill me - at it for days now!"

Ron leaned over to whisper to Ginny. "Harry’s gone mental, and we’re keeping it a secret."

Giggling, Ginny shook her head while Harry hissed, "It’s true, damn it! Just look at him - look, Ginny!"

After rolling her eyes at him, Ginny pretended to be looking for someone when she saw Draco - glaring murderously at the four of them. "Oh my God!" Ginny exclaimed in hushed tones, staring at Harry in mortification.

"I told you!" Harry snapped. "I just want to know what he’s plotting - I want to be ready."

Hermione and Ron gave each other looks which plainly said that Harry had gone off his rocker.

*

Things continued thus for the next week: Draco would stare at Harry intensely, and Harry would freak. It was a trying cycle on Ron and Hermione’s nerves.

"Listen, Harry - if it really means so much to you, go and talk to him about it," Ron offered one particularly exhausting evening. Every time Draco so much as glanced at the Gryffindor table, Harry would whip out his wand and mutter to himself.

"Talk to him? He looks like he’d eat me if I came within three feet of him!" Harry groaned dramatically.

Hermione sighed loudly, smacking her Advanced Transfiguration textbook on the table and making Crookshanks jump. "Harry, come on - he can’t hurt you! And even if he does, we do have a Hospital Wing."

"Thanks, Hermione. That helped tons."

After giving a frustrated growl, Hermione pushed herself out of her chair and was poking her finger on Harry’s chest. "Listen, Harry! This is driving us all mad. Go talk to Malfoy about it, or else!" she ended sharply, giving his chest an extra hard stab.

Rubbing the stop where Hermione had poked, Harry stared at her, mouth hanging open. "I…guess I will…"

"Good!" she added fervently, picking up her textbook once more.

Ron stared at them both in bewilderment. "You’re both mental."

*

Harry spent the good portion of the night lying in bed and trying to think of ways to approach Draco without getting savagely bitten.

‘Hello, Malfoy. I hear your Mother is well. Can we talk?’

‘Good evening, Malfoy - I need to talk to you.’

‘SNOBBY - STUPID - PRAT - TALK - NOW -’ (That particular attempt involved quite a lot of shaking Draco into submission.)

Alas, Harry never did come up with a good advance, and fell asleep dreaming of white ferrets dancing provocatively on roses.

*

"I can’t. He’ll bite me."

"Don’t make me push you, Harry…"

"You’d be scared, too!"

"Honestly, you - ! Just do it! Or else…!!"

"Fine…fine…"

With the threat of Hermione’s charms at stake, Harry - although shaking slightly with mounting hysteria - approached Draco with as much confidence he could muster. Luckily, Draco was in the library and quite alone. As quietly as possible, Harry tiptoed to the front of the table Draco was studying - Defence Against the Dark Arts? - at. Draco didn’t look up. Harry coughed. Draco looked up. Harry managed a grin. Draco managed a deadly glare. Harry - in the face of death - sighed and plunged right in.

"Oh - look, Malfoy," he began in an irritated tone, "I wanted to ask, er -"

"- why I’ve been glaring at you?"

Harry started so quickly that his glasses bounced on his nose. "Er, well - yes," he replied, fixing his glasses, feeling very foolish. He hadn’t expected Draco to actually admit it…

"Simple, Potter…"

*

"I can’t believe he said that!" Harry cried in outrage, barging into the Gryffindor dormitory. Hermione and Ron ran in after him.

"Harry!" Hermione panted, "He’s said tons of worse things -"

"You don’t understand!" Harry yelled, whirling around on her. Hermione jumped back, startled. "Malfoy and I - we’ve made a Wizard’s -"

Harry was cut off by his own yelp of pain. Clearly, he wasn’t even supposed to mention the Wizard’s Pact. The pain in his leg burned sharply for several seconds until it believed Harry wouldn’t mention anything again. Harry glared at it angrily for minute before turning back to Ron and Hermione, who were looking worried about him.

"Never mind," Harry muttered, waving his hand in the air dismissively. "Never mind. I’m fine, really. Come on, Ron, let’s go up to bed…"

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Notes: Wheee, it’s up. For the love of God those who read this, review. The next chapter depends upon how many reviews I get for this one. Well, okay, maybe it doesn’t, but it motivates me! ;.; I swear it does. That’s the reason this one came out so…ehehe…late. Well, maybe not late - it just took a while. Yeeees. >_> Again, I beg thee to review this. (Please?) Cheers!

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