Saving Myself || A Drarry Story

II: Hate

Harry stood, his hands on his hips and his teeth biting his lower lip in thought as Ron said, "I can't believe you want to play still. The new Captain is a joke."

Harry countered hatefully, "Doesn't make my abilities any better than they already are, Ron."

Hermione kissed Ron's red cheek before she said, "No need to be angry, Harry. He's telling the truth. Marcus Long is in no way a Captain."

"Oh, do shut up, Hermione. You know nothing of Quidditch."

She clamped her mouth shut with a glare.

"You don't have to get all hot and spitty on her, Harry, " said Ron.

"I'm not, " muttered Harry with a shake of his head. He didn't really know why he was friends with the two of them. Just that they loved to join in when he ridiculed an unsuspecting victim.

"Just because you aren't the Captain doesn't m---"

Harry slammed his fist down on his trunk, the anger from the previous year still raw in his mind. "You know I should have been Captain over that bimbo anyway."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Apparently not, because Spier didn't choose you."

Harry angrily stalked outside, pacing the length of the compartment over and over again, doing his best to control his rising anger.

He should have been the Quidditch Captain for Slytherin. He should have gotten that honour and made his father proud. He was the person who had worked his arse off to make it onto the team in the first place, unlike Ron, who had his brothers secure him a spot. He wasn't even good, according to Harry.

Harry put his hands in his inky black hair and tried not to rip it out. He continued pacing, but at a more rapid pace. He heard a voice say in a compartment to his left near the back, "I think he's finally cracked."

The voice, Harry saw, belonged to Draco Malfoy.

All of the anger that was stewing in Harry surged out through his mouth as Draco opened the door, wondering what was the matter. Harry shoved him roughly, snarling, "You have no right to speak of me like that, Malfoy."

Draco stumbled back, shocked by how much force the smaller boy used. He was a good, solid five inches taller than Potter, who was of less than average height.

"No fucking right, "

Draco was suddenly shoved roughly against the window with Potter's hands clutching fistfuls of his robes, his green eyes wild and his face set in a murderous glare.

Blaise shot up. "Hey!"

"Oi!" Theo exclaimed.

"You just remember, Malfoy, " Harry said in a terrifyingly low voice, "that you---of all people---never, ever get what you want. Ever." And with that, Harry hurried out, his anger now subsiding that he had somebody to push around and yell at.

He returned to his compartment, giving Ron a quick smack on the back of his head, sitting down with an angry huff.

וווווווווווווו×

At Hogwarts, Harry didn't pay attention to the Sorting. He hardly ever cared about the fact that there were going to be more people to piss him off. He was already under Dumbledore's watchful eye because of all the havoc he caused; fights left and right, curses and hexes soaring across the Great Hall, disruptions in his classes due to outbursts. Only Professor Snape, his father's friend, let him get away with everything he had ever done. Harry honestly despised the man, but he acted as if he didn't. A wonderful feat, he'd dare add.

When the Sorting was finished and Dumbledore had finished his awful speech, the platters in front of him filled with food and he piled some onto his plate. As he was eating, a disgustingly familiar face appeared in front of him.

"What do you want, Long?" he asked, doing his best good-boy act.

"Just wanted to make sure you know what you're doing this year."

Harry tried not to punch him in the face as he replied, "Yes. I think I've figured out the perfect strategy for beating Gryffindor."

"Good, " Long said with a clap on Harry's shoulder. Harry's eye twitched because he hated people touching him. He played everything about it.

Directly in front of him, on the opposite side of the Great Hall, Harry saw Draco Malfoy looking at him. Scratching the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, Harry made a face, making Malfoy turn away.

In his head, Harry laughed. What an idiot. Doesn't he know anything?

Harry didn't even realize that he was in his private dorm, due to his father's connections and extreme wealth, until he was lying down in his bed.

Just as he was about to close his eyes, there was a tap on his window. He got up, seeing his owl had a letter for him in her beak.

"Hullo, Hedwig, " he said softly. He only spoke like this to his owl, the only real friend he had. "Got a letter for me, don't you?"

Hedwig hooted and puffed out her chest importantly. Harry took the letter but didn't bother to read it when he saw his father's handwriting.

Hedwig clicked her beak and Harry told her, "I really hate this place. I hate all of the people around me, all of the Professors as well."

Hedwig gave a small hoot, making herself comfortable on Harry's shoulder.

"And it's not like I have friends or anything. Ron and Hermione are really terrible."

Hedwig looked at him, her eyes wide.

"And I'm talking to you, an owl. I'll bet you can't even understand me."

Hedwig hooted again.

"And I'll bet you just want some treats, don't you?" Harry sighed, digging in his trunk, trying to find the bag of treats he had for Hedwig, but he couldn't find them.

"Sorry, " he said. "Don't have any."

Hedwig hooted reproachfully and she flew out of the window and up into the Owlery.

Harry, in a fit of anger and sadness, threw a book against the wall, burying himself in his covers and trying not to have a complete breakdown by breathing deeply and slowly.

He really hated it. Everything about himself.

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