45

"Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall's stern voice said from behind the boy in question as he was eating dinner a few days later, "Your presence is required after dinner down on the quidditch pitch." Harry frowned, looking around from his food to look at his teacher.

"What for?" he asked bluntly, ignoring Hermione's elbow to his ribs and her whispered "Don't be rude!" Professor McGonagall arched an eyebrow, but was used, by now, to her pupil's lack of respect for her. Although if she hadn't noticed his distance from Draco Malfoy these last few weeks, then she would have most certainly have assigned a detention. As it was, however, she was inclined to cut him a bit of slack. Only a bit, though.

"Dinner will be finished in ten minutes, Mr Potter, I am almost certain that you can wait until then to find out." And with that, she swept away to the head table.

"Harry, you really should show her more respect, she is a professor, you know," Hermione admonished between mouthfuls of food. So busy was she with eating, she failed to noticed the eyes watching her until she glanced up to take a gulp of pumpkin juice.

"What?" she asked. Neville was speechless, but Harry managed to reign in his bemusement long enough to ask the question that they both were thinking.

"Umm... in a hurry?" he said, eyes sparkling with amusement because of her uncanny resemblance to Ron as she ate.

"Yes, I am actually," she answered, finishing her meal and taking another gulp of juice. "I need to get to the library. Research, you know," she said vaguely, grabbing her bag and leaving the table.

"What's with her?" Neville asked, finding his voice finally.

"Beats me," Harry shrugged, taking a last bite of his dinner and grabbing his own bag from under the table, "I'd better get going though, I want time for a smoke before I have to be down at the quidditch pitch."

"Okay, see you later," Neville answered, turning back to his meal. Cedric caught up with Harry just outside the castle doors.

"You heading down to the quidditch pitch?" the older boy panted. Harry nodded, pulling his cigarettes and lighter out of his jeans pocket.

"Yeah, I thought I'd get there early and have time for a fag first. You got invited too, huh? Must be a tournament thing then." Cedric nodded absently, a tiny frown on his face as he looked down at the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Yeah, I guess. Look, I know it's none of my business, but if you ever want to talk about what happened with Draco, I'm here, ok? We're all worried about you, but you won't talk to anyone." Harry sighed, blowing smoke out through his nose before running a hand through his hair.

"I know. It's just that the whole situation is so fucked, you know? I mean, what was with me and Malfoy anyway? We hate each other, always have."

"Oh come off it, Harry," Cedric exclaimed, exasperated, "You don't hate each other, you never have, not really. Even I could see it, and I didn't even know either of you. You both just have this weird thing where you love fighting with each other. It's like Ron and Hermione; they fight because the only other option is to snog constantly, and they're too scared of their feelings to do that. That's you and Draco, mate. I mean, yeah, you do get on each other's nerves a lot, so I guess that's why some of the fighting happens. And his father is a dick, so that accounts for some of it, too. But the rest? UST, mate. UST." Harry stared at Cedric, almost tripping over a stray tree root, he was so stunned by the Hufflepuff's words of wisdom.

"Oh, fuck off," he muttered as Cedric laughed at him.

"You know I'm right. Now you just need to figure out what's gotten Malfoy's knickers in a bunch. My money's on his dad."

"Fuck. Lucy, of course! Why the bloody fuck didn't I think of that?" Harry burst out, his cigarette hanging limply between his lips as he considered the possibilities.

"And that, mate, is why I'm a proper champion and you're not," Cedric joked, grinning charmingly. "On a lighter note, have you seen Fred and George? Rumour has it that they've been trying to become animagus, but all anyone really knows is that they're both stuck in the hospital wing until Madam Pomfrey can get rid of the tails."

"Harry, I don't mean to sound unsympathetic, but shouldn't you be focusing on the task? I mean, I know you don't want to win, but surely even you can see that being shoved into a maze full of dangerous creatures and spells is worth preparing for," Hermione spoke cautiously, flinching slightly when Harry abruptly stopped his pacing and whirled around to face her.

"Maze? Oh, fuck the maze, Hermione!" He snapped, "I just can't figure this out. Yeah, he's shit scared of his dad. Who wouldn't be? But he was fine over Christmas! So what the fuck happened?" Hermione shrank slightly in her seat as Harry ranted; she and Blaise had decided to keep their research and suspicions to themselves. If they were wrong about it all, then they didn't want to give Harry false hope; it had hit him hard enough the first time, they didn't want to see how much whiskey he could get through if his hopes were dashed again.

"How about some chess, Harry?" Ron asked hesitantly. Harry frowned and shook his head.

"Nah. I'm gonna go for a walk," he muttered, storming out of the common room. The three friends watched him leave, all deciding not to mention the fact that it was both after curfew and tipping it down with rain outside.

"I'm siiiiinging in the rain!" Harry belted out, staggering around the grounds of Hogwarts, soaked to the bone and drunk as a skunk, "Oh siiiinging in the rain! What a gloooorious feeeeeeeeling, I'm h-happy again!" Chuckling to himself, Harry continued on his path, picking himself up from the ground several times when he failed to see the obstacles in front of him in his drunken haze.

After wandering aimlessly for about ten minutes, he found himself in front of Hagrid's hut, and his mind cast itself back to first year. They were simpler times; finding out that he was a wizard, and a world-famous one at that and then being propelled into a world he knew nothing about had nothing on relationship troubles.

"Ahh, first year," he said nostalgically, addressing the pumpkin in Hagrid's garden, "Snape being a git and Fluffy and learning to... FLY! That's it! Accio Firebolt!" Flying, he thought reasonably, was sure to cheer him up. There was nothing as relaxing as a nice, long flight on a sunny day. Or a rainy night, he supposed. Harry took a quick swig from his almost-empty hipflask as he waited. Seeing a flash out of the corner of his eye, he reached out a hand and grabbed the broom as it sped towards him; even drunk out of his mind, he was still a Seeker.

Clumsily, he swung one leg over the broom and shot into the air. Well, a few feet into the air. Grinning, he flew around Hagrid's hut and towards the outskirts of the forest.

"I'm flyyyying in the rain," he sung happily, not noticing the tree in front of him until it was too late. He crashed straight into it, falling to the ground and knocking his head against a rock.

"Well, well. Fancy seeing you here, Potter," a strangely familiar voice drawled from a few feet away. Harry turned his head, though it took a lot of effort to do so, and caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy through the rain, wand outstretched and mouth open ready to cast.

And then Harry passed out.