I Don't Care

Chapter 3

(There will be a LOT of songs, song lyrics, and the songs linked on YouTube for you all to listen to. If reading song lyrics bother you, they're all italicized so you can skip if need be)

Of course, this newfound comradery wouldn't last. When alone to deal with his thoughts, Harry was fine. He would sit there, dissociate, and somehow make his way through his meals.

It wasn't like he was skipping through them on purpose. He never had regularly scheduled meals growing up, sometimes going over a week without food, so he often forgot to eat. Feeling upset invoked those feelings of being locked in the cupboard in the past, and it took away any semblance of an appetite that he had.

It was the first day of the term, and Harry simply wasn't hungry. He has spent his whole summer studying, trying to cram seven years worth of magical education into one summer. He didn't know how Hermione had done it in real time, but he supposed he was the one always directly at risk of dying.

Harry was at breakfast, head propped up in his hand, listening to Draco happily talk to every single person at the table about the new term. That wasn't necessarily what bothered him. It was the way Draco would deftly deliver a kick to Harry's shin, always in the exact same spot, and continue talking as if he had done nothing.

"Why are you nice to everyone else but me?," Harry hissed.

"Harry, can you please eat something for me?," Draco asked gently.

And there it was. Harry immediately grimaced and pushed his plate away.

"Honestly Potter, have you never used a fork before? These pointy parts are used to get the food you see. Then, you open your mouth and put the food in. It's really quite simple, children do it all the time," he said patronizingly.

"I know how to fucking use a fork Malfoy!," he snarled, stabbing and eating some of his potatoes.

"Good, don't forget it."

It was only after his plate was clear and Draco was getting up that he realized what had happened. Harry stormed out of the great hall following Draco.

"You fucker," he accused once the door had closed behind them.

"I wish, but no one wants to lay their hands on me anymore. Goodbye Scarhead."

"I'll lay my hands on you alright," Harry threatened. "I'll push you right up against the wall!"

"I can't tell if you're coming onto me or you want to fight me. I'm interested in one of those, figure it out," Draco answered evenly, turning on his heel and walking down the hallway.

"I think-," Harry began, starting to follow him.

"I don't care what you think, as long as it's about me," Draco spat out, robes flaring in a way that would make Snape proud.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?! Harry didn't have long to dwell on it as Ron and Hermione flocked to his side.

"You didn't hit him did you?," Hermione asked worriedly.

"No, that's your job," he spat, pushing the two away and slipping under his cloak.

"Harry!"

That was how Harry traveled to his classes all day. He sat in the front left corner of all of his classes, alone. There was enough space for everyone to have their own table, and that was what he liked. Head down, he focused on his professors and took notes as needed. It was a relief when he finally made it to his art class.

Arabella greeted everyone as they entered, casting a worried glance at Harry. She explained to the class that for the first few weeks she would be doing demos, and she would like for everyone to follow along with her for the first half of the class. The second half they would be allowed to do whatever they wished with the materials given.