Hate Transforms

Thanks for reviewing! I know right now Draco seems like an ass… but you’ll see why next chapter… this one continues in Harry’s pov, it’s mainly just driving plot and events, etc. more juicy bit in next chapter I promise!


Harry was so stunned it took him a minute to actually realize Malfoy had left the room. He ran out after the other boy, but knew it was no good. He was surely back in the Slytherin common room by now.

Harry headed to his common room, his original destination before the run in with Malfoy. He tried to push the thought of Malfoy and their fight out of his mind. As he entered through the portrait hole he prayed it was empty. But no such luck.

By the dim fading fire he could make out two figures on the couch talking. When he entered they called him over. Ron and Hermione had waited up for him, and for a second he forgot why they would have bothered. Of course, they wanted to hear about what Dumbledore showed him.

“Hey,” he mumbled as he sat down in the chair next to the couch.

“So what did Dumbledore show you tonight? Another memory?” asked Ron, as he moved to sit on the very edge of the couch cushion.

“Yeah,” answered Harry anticlimactically.

“Everything alright, Harry?” asked Hermione. Harry normally appreciated her ability to read his emotions, but right now he wished she wouldn’t bother. He didn’t want to be bothered in explaining his foul mood, so he told them about what he saw in the Pensieve in Dumbledore’s office.

Both were enthralled to hear about Voldemort’s childhood, and wanted to know every detail of the memory. Talking about it made him focus on something other than Malfoy. Soon his mind wrapped around the images he had seen and he too joined Ron and Hermione in pulling apart each detail and analyzing it.

He at least still had a purpose. He needed to focus on learning as much about Voldemort as possible if he was going to defeat him. This still didn’t help lessen his anger towards Malfoy, however.

~~~~~~~~~~~
The next two weeks went by gruelingly. Homework was being piled on to new heights and with increasing difficulty. Even Hermione was flustered and had to ask for instructions more than once during classes. Harry and Ron however were spending this Thursday evening out on the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the Gryffindor team, rather than in the common room studying. Harry was trying to get the team to find a rhythm together and was failing miserably.

Ron kept missing goals, and the new Beaters kept sending bludgers at one another, instead of at the Chasers. The only bright side was that Ginny was flying really well, and Dean wasn’t half bad.

The poor outcome of the practice just reinforced the terrible one from earlier that week. This just fueled Harry’s fury.

He desperately wanted to beat Slytherin tomorrow. Two weeks of dwelling on the very confusing and irritating affair with Malfoy left Harry seething with pent up anger. He was practically fuming from the ears. It didn’t help that his dreams were plagued by the same blonde. But in his dreams he wasn’t angry, he was willingly and pleasurably at Malfoy’s mercy.

When no one could see the quaffle or bludgers any longer Harry called it quits and blew his whistle to end practice. He hoped today after practice he wouldn’t run into Ginny snogging Dean again. He didn’t need another reminder about what he wasn’t getting.
Luckily there was no repeat display of tonsil hockey, but Ron did try to quit the team last minute, which Harry rebuffed.

The next morning Harry was ready to get out of the Great Hall and onto the pitch. Between Hermione storming out because she saw Harry ‘give’ Ron lucky potion, Ron’s nerves about the game, and the Slytherins never-ending boos and hisses, Harry was ready to crawl out of his skin. He hoped Hermione wouldn’t go and tell a teacher, seeing as how he hadn’t actually given Ron anything. But luckily Ron was looking a bit more confident since he thought Harry slipped him something, how Harry loved the placebo effect.

Upon entering the changing room a knot formed in the pit of Harry’s stomach. He joined the rest of the team in pulling on his team robes. By the time he was dressed for the match the knot had grown. It seemed to fill his entire abdomen. He couldn’t wait to wipe the pitch with the sneering blonde’s face. He was so anxious he began gripping his broomstick’s handle until his knuckles were white.

When everyone was dressed Harry stood up to give the obligatory motivational speech. He decided the best thing to do was repeat the one Oliver had given every year. He knew it by heart, and without Katie there no one would know he hadn’t come up with it himself. Once he finished everyone headed out on the pitch under the clear sunny sky outside.

As Harry approached Madam Hooch the knot began to grow heavier. He glanced around at the Slytherin players. He tried to keep his face neutral as he glanced from player to player. Malfoy wasn’t there; the alternate Seeker Harper was standing towards the back of the group of green robes.

Harry shook the Slytherin Captain’s hand and then launched into the air as the whistle was blown. He took a cursory lap around the pitch wondering where Malfoy could be. He never missed a game, especially if Harry was playing. They practically lived to torment one another in the air. Was he injured? Ill? Or did he have something more important to worry about than Quidditch?

The first chance he had he flew towards Harper to taunt. “So did Malfoy get you to take his place to mess with everyone’s head? Let me guess he’s going to show half way through just to prove he can!” Harry yelled over the sound of the wind.

Harper just leered at him before saying, “Dropped off the team. No one knows why, but I couldn’t care less. Now I get to play, and beat the precious Potter!” then Harper zoomed off to the other end of the pitch.

Gryffindor was soon sixty to zero, Ron having spectacularly saved every goal attempted. Having faked giving Ron Felix Felicis had really helped him calm down and play better. On top of that all the others were playing on top game as well. Harry couldn’t be happier with his new team.

Then out of the corner of his eye he saw Harper go into a dive. Sure enough there was a tiny golden fleck hovering just above the pitch below the Slytherin’s goals. Harry immediately sped into his own dive desperately trying to catch up with the other Seeker.

He could tell the crowd had caught on to what was happening because a tense silence fell over the crowd. But Harry couldn’t pay attention to anything other than the small golden Snitch now just meters ahead. Harper was still closer, but Harry was moving faster. Both boys had to pull up to avoid the ground. Harry’s superior broom recovered from the dive sooner giving him the split second needed to pull to the lead. Harper tried to ram him, but Harry was too quick. He fainted to the left sending Harper out to one side. With the lead Harry leaned forward, stretched his arm out, and could feel the Snitch on the tips of his fingers. Right as he clasped his fist around the fluttering ball he thought how much he would have preferred beating Malfoy.

Once he landed and showed the Snitch the entire crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Before he knew it the rest of team joined him in a group hug while the crowd began a chorus of ‘Weasley is Our King.’

To Harry’s delight Ron was beaming as he yelled “we won!”
~~~~

The jubilant atmosphere had quickly evaporated for Harry. Hermione and Ron were not speaking after Hermione resurfaced her concerns about the lucky potion, implying that Ron only saved all the goals due to the potion, and Harry having to reveal that he never gave Ron any potion. To top it all off, Ron had to go and snog Lavender Brown in plain view at the after game party, so of course Hermione saw them. After Hermione sent a flock of birds after Ron, Harry had decided to take a walk alone. He couldn’t handle his friends acting so immature. He hoped they would make up soon, but it looked doubtful, at least until they admitted they were attracted to one another.

The mention of attraction sent his mind to Malfoy. He wondered why he left the team. He was skeptical to think they didn’t want him, as if any Slytherin cared whether his father was a Death Eater or not. He couldn’t help but think it was because his mind was busy elsewhere. What could he possibly be doing for Voldemort here at Hogwarts?


A/N: keep reviewing please! I love to know what you think.
I know the end of this chapter was a little lack luster but I will try and make it up next chapter… when Draco is back in the pic (heehee)