Chapter Eight: Lost me not

Draco hurried down the hall. Thoughts consumed his mind as he felt panic washing his confident mask away from him. Gripping his hands tightly, he took a deep breath and regained his stride as he accio his belongings for the first class. It was still early, but he always liked to be prepared first.

What was he thinking when he showed his deepest secret to Potter?

Yet it had felt so natural, the urge to show his real talent he hide from the world was consuming all at once. So he painted, painted with all his mind and heart, and for the first time, showed someone other than himself his art, his masterpiece.

His presence was a comforting thought in his mind, to know that he wasn't the only one there. He couldn't see him, yet he felt the gentle rustling of something and the slow, yet steady breathing of someone that could've been no one but Potter in his Invisible Cloak.

All his life, he learn that purebloods couldn't learn anything regarding about art as it was considered a disgrace to the family. When he was young, he used to thought that one day, when be was older, he could show them the real side to him. Yet it never worked, and he found himself trapped, with art as his only console during the dark days when he followed He-who-must-not-be-named.

Only now did the thought of regret came through him. If, somehow, Potter decided to use it against him? To blackmail him as revenge to how he had said all the nasty things to his friends? To how he had betrayed them?

What if?

A small voice whispered inside him that he wouldn't, but he pushed it away harshly.

He didn't know Potter, and everything became possible when it includes Potter.

................

Dazedly, Harry stood up and creept back into his room, his thoughts buzzing wildly. The image was still printed in his head, the colours making its own way into his conscious.

He found himself staring at his image in the mirror, remembering vividly how the pair of gray eyes looked at him, filled with loneliness, yet somewhat empty, confused. It suddenly struck him of how he must have hide the secret all his life. Being a pureblood, he was supposedly to denied anything of art, yet he saw how his hands had worked last night.

He blinked, the silent feeling of understanding flowing through him.

He understood the feeling of keeping a part of himself hidden from everyone else.

It was a mere self-protection from people who tried to take it away, yet the protection always turned to bite themselves back.

Because from the start, secrets were something that would be broken by truth, the darkness that swallows all light.

Realizing with a jolt that it was near Breakfast time, he dressed in his robes and after a minute of thinking, gave up the idea of carrying his books with him because he was lazy.

Walking towards the hall, he saw Luna sitting with Seamus and Dean. Noticing him, Luna smiled merrily at him and waved him over.

"Good morning, Harry. Had a good sleep last night?" She asked as Harry stared at her. The seemingly innocent question became a huge question mark when she gave him a tiny wink. Forcing a smile as he felt cold sweat sliding down his face, he gave a nod, and exchanged greetings with the two boys. He gave a sigh of relief when the conversation changed to their future jobs once the year finished.

"Hmm, I'm not sure, me and Dean were thinking of joining the Ministry. What about you, Luna?"

"Why, a zoologist of course. Just imagining the creatures I would be able to see, and oh, perhaps I might even have a chance to see some Umgubular Slashkilter." She said dreamily, her eyes distant as she began to imagine it.

"Sure Luna, whatever you say." They said, the three of them used to her antics.

"What about you, Harry?"

He frowned slightly. It had occurred him a few times,but he always pushed the thought away.

He used to have a dream to become an Auror, after all, he was always better in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

But now?

He didn't want it anymore.

He no longer wanted to pursue the career. It was too dark, too close to the past, endowed between.

Just the thought of hunting and killing the criminals made him sick.

"I'm not...sure." He beard himself said. Luna gazed at him intently.

Seamus frowned. "You should think soon, Harry, or it'll be too late when the year's past." Dean smiled wryly. "Not all of us think that far into the future like you do." Seamus flushed slightly as Luna clapped her hands together.

A flash of silvery white caught his attention as Harry stared at the back of Malfoy as he walked away slowly. Yet the steps showed Harry that something was troubling him.

Then again, it was none of his business.

............

Time ticked by in its own way. The day came to an end with stacks of homework, and night came silently, luring the flint of the flames from the broken world.

That night, he went back there without hiscloak with the foolish hope that he would be back.

And somehow, he was.

He was still there, the brush in his hands, the same canvas that he saw the day before. The rustling of paper sounded as a light breeze blew gently from the window.

Sitting quietly against Malfoy, Harry heard his quiet breathing as he continued calmly when Harry saw a spot of paint on his forehead, his soft-looking hair making him have the urge to touch it.

Reaching up, he heard his breathing quickened as he wiped the paint gently, his touch untraceable as warmth washed over him. Sweeping his hair away from his eyes, he lifted his hand back with something akin to regret as he suddenly felt coldness seeping through him.

"Potter." A mere whisper, yet it seemed like a roar in his ears.

"Hmm?"

Slowly, the blond figure in front of him packed up his things as he left those words.

"Tomorrow same time as today. Come here."

"We have to discuss how to do the Potions."

It's holiday but I feel so lazy and somehow some of my inspiration went missing URGH

But, hey, at least I updated. I hope I didn't keep ya all waiting too much

S'long!