Removing the Dark Mark (Drarry Angst)

Hunger Pains

I'm back, sorry for being late (damn, very late.) I still have to work even though I'm in isolation (sucks huh?) so the idea of being on my computer any more than I needed to made me sick.

But I love writing too much so... 

Im in the middle of a week break so I promise I'm gonna stock pile and upload more frequently. Okay! I'll let you read.

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"Get up! Oh come on, mate, ergh!" Ron's voice drifted into Harry's ear like a plume of misty smoke, only making his weary mind cloudier. The pair of green eyes gluggilly opened to see Ron tugging off the sheets of Harry's bed.

"No..." Harry groaned, bringing a hand to his head to shield himself from the light pouring in from his open bed frame curtains.

Ron was standing beside him, staring at him with confused worry, awkwardly scanning him as if there was something wrong. "Y-yer good?" The red headed Gryffindor asked after a moment. Harry, who'd managed to lift himself up under the weight of slug-like fatigue, answered with a bleary nod.

"Yeah, I'm fine... What time is it?" Harry asked, his words blurring into each other in his mind as it was busy coming back to reality. That's right, he'd had a dream.

Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut.

No!

Stop. Stop. Stop. Sto-

"Breakies in ten minutes!" Seamas hollered from one end of the dormitories, flapping on his own scarf and robes before adding, "Don't need to worry 'bout getting dressed do ye 'Arry?"

Harry looked down to see himself still in his uniform from the day before, shoes and all. He sighed, rocking his head up to settle himself for one second, however was being hauled up by the arms by his peers. Honestly he didn't even register that he'd managed to get to the Great Hall until he found himself drooling over the empty plates.

"Grumble umble, fibble fobble flan. Steeky sticky icky ick."

There was a chorus of claps that flapped around Harry's weary head like a swarm of bats. He sat up and looked up to the front of the Great Hall to see Albus Dumbledore with his wand to his throat, silhouetted by the large stained glass windows.

Oh hurry up would you? Harry thought to himself, instantly hissing at himself for being disrespectful, no matter how hungry he was.

"Thank you, thank you," Dumbledore called to the Hall, the simple gesture of him raising his arms silencing everyone. "Now, I would like to remind everyone from 3rd to 6th year that Hogsmeade is on at the end of the week, so all of you must save your galleons. And 3rd years, remember to have your permission notes ready for your heads of house."

Harry tuned out all the other announcements, even as Dumbledore talked of the O.W.Ls, or when Madame Hooch commended Gryffindor for winning the Quidditch cup, or when Slughorn offered to set up personal tutoring for certain potions students. He was too busy glaring at the serving plates, his stomach clutching on his eyes impatiently.

He didn't even spare a second when he saw the food appear, freshly cooked by the house elves downstairs. He started shovelling it onto his plate. Turns out, missing out on a full day and a bit of eating made you very hungry.

"You good Harry?" Ron asked from the bench beside him, looking with concern as Harry bit through a sausage ravenously.

To both of their surprise, Hermione scoffed. "He's catching up on not bothering to take care of himself, are you Harry?"

Ron and Harry looked at eachother, shocked by the snappilly insensitive comment. "Yeah... I guess that's what happening," Harry answered slowly as soon as he finished his food. She rolled her eyes and started getting herself some breakfast as well. His two friends continued talking to one another, letting him immerse in the fulfilling feeling of finally getting something to eat. The morning before, he had missed breakfast, which was out of his hands, and even though he could've gone to the dinner feast he had been just too tired. So now, he was practically catching up.

It was as Ron and Hermione had gotten on the topic of the ever looming Astronomy response due, that Harry started feeling a piercing of his scar. He bit his lip, his face contorting to fight back a screech. He clenched the fork in his hand to try and deter the pain.

What was this? Harry had too many questions to be answered under the immense pain.

He was about to speak up when he heard a similar screech of pain. He looked up and over to the Slytherin benches to see a figure crunched up over the table. To Harry's surprise, no one else had noticed Draco reeling over his forearm, not even one head turned.

Harry knew this must have to do something about the Dark Mark, but how? They had gotten rid of it? Had this something to do with the searing in Harry's scar?

Draco looked up and, for a frequent moment, the two of them looked at one another. Draco's eyes were rimmed in red and scrunched with pain. Harry's breath caught in his chest for he knew full well that he couldn't do anything. He couldn't be the one to go over and help him, the pale boy would have to wait for a fellow Slytherin to help.

Harry turned back to his own table and tried to tag onto Hermione and Ron's conversation, however they had stopped to see what was going on.

"Oh, nothing," Harry answered after Hermione had asked what was wrong, his voice tepid and level even under the persisting pain in his scar and worry in his chest. "So Hogsmeade!"