Everything Silver | Harry Potter (2)

Chapter 2: when everything goes wrong, it's okay to just scream

For Harry, the next few weeks progressed too quickly and not quickly enough.

Life had been brutal blend of monotony, anticipation, and disappointment. Each day without results fuelled the flames. Something had changed Malfoy seniors' actions that day and they were no closer to figuring out what the bloody hell had happened.

The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed.

Harry scowled at the wall. He couldn't remember where he'd heard it, but that phrase rattled itself known every few or so days.

It sounded annoying like Professor Dumbledore.

Harry had tried to distract himself from their failures and Dursley life with the life ramblings of his friends. Letters came pretty consistently throughout the remaining weeks. It left Harry immensely glad that Dobby hadn't-

Dobby-

On strict orders from Draco, the house elf had been forbidden from interfering. Harry felt-

Neither boy wanted to deal with the underage magic infraction from the ministry. that would be sure to follow. The most immediate benefit of this was the absence of bars on his window and (relatively speaking) less enraged relatives. The most immediate downside to this, reflected Harry, meant there had been no month at the Burrow to pass the time. And he wanted to see Dobby, to make sure—

No hanging out with Ron or Ginny or the other Weasley's, no cheeky Filibuster fireworks set off in the kitchen, no mug of hot chocolate just before bed.

No casual hugs or warm smiles.

Just Harry, the hot summer sun, and the weeds in Petunia's Garden. Lying awake each night waiting for Draco's word, only to be told the diary was still nowhere to be found.

Despite the passage of time and his disdain for feeling this way, Harry sometimes found it difficult to reign in his jealously of the others. He had always fought hard against the sickly-choking feelings, but as feelings were wont to do, he couldn't always stop jealously from running its burning course.

It always happened when he thought of the Dursleys and moonlight streaming through a steel barred window.

When he thought of dark nightmares and screams in the night.

When he thought about all the little girls and boys who went home each night and didn't lie in their dark cupboards and wonder what made them so unlovable.

Harry digressed.

No matter what it felt like, time did pass and soon Harry found himself and Draco on the train to Hogwarts. Secluded away in a compartment, door locked and charmed, the two time-travellers sat across from each other and panicked — discussed their options.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

Harry cursed viciously.

"I don't understand," seethed Draco, slumping most un-Draco-like into the seat. "Of all things, why has this changed? Nothing should have changed his mind."

"Maybe he felt pity, thought twice about using a little girl. I don't know, he's your father."

"Yes, exactly. He's my father, and my father wouldn't let pity get in the way of doing the Dark Lords work."

Harry removed his glasses, pressing his palms to his eyes. The overwhelming darkness was comforting. "It could be different this time?"

"Obliviously, but why? What changed?"