Chapter 11

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Harry POV:

Ever since my outbreak at Pansy and Draco, I've been hating myself more and more. It's like I'm becoming way more sensitive, and I hate that. Draco, on the other hand, has been a lot more open to talking about it, while I have been more secretive. Although every time Draco starts talking about the base of his problems, he turns red and changes the subject...eh, it doesn't matter, does it?

"Harry, look!" I hear Ron say beside me. He points at a board, saying a bunch of random stuff, but one thing catches my attention. The new Hogsmeade day. It's tomorrow. "Are you coming? To Hogsmeade, I mean."

"Maybe," I answer, shrugging. Ron goes to his dormitory, muttering about potions. Then I realize. I forgot my potions book! I run out the door, trying to remember the last place I put it. Then I hear a scuffling sound, and I barely have time to stop myself from running into Draco Malfoy. I stop, but Draco doesn't, and collides with me, his books falling everywhere.

"Sorry, sorry," I say, picking up his books and giving it to him.

"Ah, Harry!" Draco says happily, holding out my potions book, "This is yours. I was going to give it to you."

"Thanks!" I exclaim, and we smile.

"A-Anyways, I'm going to go..." Draco starts to say, turning pink, but I cut him off.

"Would you like to go with Hogsmeade with me?" I mentally slap my head and stammer, "A-As a d-date, maybe?"

Draco looks taken aback, before looking in my eyes and saying, "Sure!"

"Brilliant. It's tomorrow, see you then?"

"Ok," Draco says, smiling. 

I breath a huge sigh of relief and we part our ways. I go to sleep, thinking about Draco and our "date", when I fall asleep. I wake up the next morning, feeling excited. I grab my robes and bag and get ready quickly. I press a hand to the top of my head, annoyed that it won't stay flat. Finally, half an hour later, I set off towards the great hall for breakfast. I choose eggs and bacon, before I see Ron and Hermione coming.

"Hey guys," I greet them, swallowing bacon.

"Hi, mate. I have to ask you something."

Puzzled, I say, "Ok, what is it?"

"You were saying something in your sleep," Ron says halfheartedly. My eyes widen, and my heart beats faster. Did I say something in my sleep about Draco?

"Ok, what did I say?" I ask, praying.

"Something about liking Draco. Do you know something we don't? Besides Draco being a death eater, which you've told us about a million times."

I think quickly, before shrugging. "No, nothing at all."

"You sure? I've never heard you saying stuff about that git," Ron looks so disgusted at the mention of Draco, that I have the urge to punch him. Putting my hand in my pockets, I say, "It's a dream, wasn't it? It's probably not real."

"True," Ron says, apparently satisfied with my answer, but Hermione narrow's her eyes. "Harry, you've been talking a lot more about Draco."

"So what if I am?" I ask, going for another egg.

"I don't know, Harry. And you know he's a piece of crap, so why do you care so much?"

Darn. This question throws my for a loop, but before I answer, I see Pansy Parkingson running up to me. "Do any of you guys know what's wrong with Draco?"

My ears perk up with interest. "What happened?"

"He's acting very strange...would you like to see?"

"Sure," I say, and I run off with Pansy before Ron or Hermione makes any retort at me. We go through the Slytherin common room, where I see Draco crouched down in a bed. "you ok, Draco?"

"N-No, it hurts, it hurts..." Draco trails off into silence. 

"What hurts?" Pansy asks.

"My head. It burns so much," Draco moans, clutching his head.

"Draco, your hands..." I say, looking at them. They're black and flaky. I run into a panic, not knowing what to do. Draco pulls down his left sleeve before looking at his hands and gasping.

"What's going on?" he asks. "I feel so-" he cuts off, passing out. Pansy stares at Draco, yelping, while I put Draco on the couch. Then I realize something. My hands are turning black. 

"Don't touch him, Pansy!" I cry, showing her my hands. Pansy gasps and runs off. I run off too, towards the potions cupboard. Shuffling through the boxes, I see one labeled "bezoars" and take one, running back. I see my hands, blacker than they were before. I see Draco, and I shove the bezoar down his throat. Pansy has not returned yet, so I decide to keep watch on Draco. Suddenly, I feel my head hurt, and I gasp in pain.

I don't remember anything else, before feeling really tired and collapsing.

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