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Yes, Dorothy	By : Fatalonie Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2104 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Yes, Dorothy
- 2-I Am Not
- 1
- 2
I am Not
Fatalonie

For once Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy sat in close quarters neither one fighting. Hermione was too preoccupied with watching Harry to care much about being so close to Crabbe or Goyle. Harry took no notice; he sat in the corner of the compartment, close to the window. He was hugging his knees and rocking back and forth. Whatever thought had just occurred to him had him near hyperventilation.
"Harry, Harry look at me," Blaise commanded. Harry didn't seem to hear him. "HARRY!" he yelled, his lips nearly touching Harry's ear. The smaller boy jumped and looked at Blaise wide-eyed. Blaise cupped Harry's face with both hands, forcing the boy to look him in the eyes. "What is wrong?" Harry stared at him as though he'd gone insane.
"What's wrong?" he choked out. "What's wrong?" He yelled at the blonde pulling away from him and raising a hand to slap the other across the face. "What the Hell do you think is wrong!" he screamed.
Suddenly Harry leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He began moving his lips silently as he rocked slightly.
"Harry," Blaise commanded, his voice calm and patient. He moved in front of the smaller boy, sitting on his haunches so he could look the other in the eyes. "What is bothering you?"
"I...if...Daddy," the whisper was so quiet that Blaise barely even heard it. He was so startled that he hadn't thought of the possibility that Harry's father might not even know he was his father that he fell on to his butt in shock. He forced himself out of his stupor when he heard the soft murmurs from Harry.
"I'm sure he feels the same way for you, don't worry," he assured the smaller boy. Harry looked up at him, his eyes dark and murderous. Blaise looked away guiltily.
"Potter, what are you going on about?" Draco demanded. Harry's cold eyes shot to Draco; fear flashed across his face before it was masked with indifference.
"If you call me that... that disgusting name one more time, I'm going to strangle you," Harry growled.
"But, Harry, that's your name," Hermione said staring at him wide eyed. Harry clenched his fist and reached into his pocket, withdrawing another earpiece and placing it in his ear. He then took out the small black box, punched in a code and stuffed it back into his pocket.
Blaise grimaced as he heard the music and words of the song Harry was playing. Harry then pulled his knees to chest; hugging them he gazed stoically out the window.
Blaise had only seen Harry act this way once. The only time Blaise had seen him like this had been when his Harry's father had sent him from his room. Harry had turned his music up so loud the entire common room could hear it. He had sat there staring into the fire all night. He acted that way until the next night when his father had called him to his rooms. Harry hadn't come back to the dorm room that night, but the next morning he'd been back to normal.
But this time there was no "Daddy" to bring Harry out of his position. There was no Draco to help console Harry along with Blaise. Well there was a Draco, but he was not the Draco he and Harry had grown up with. He was a stranger that Harry refused to even grace with a smile, but that was because the boy kept calling him "Potter." Harry Potter had died years ago in the eyes of the Wizarding World. They thought that he had died in the fire that was his house after he defeated Voldemort.
Few people knew that Lucius Malfoy had saved the child. Harry did not fear Voldemort; he was waiting for Ron Weasley to aid his father before he turned on the boy. But in this world, in this world it was completely backwards! Draco Malfoy hated Harry, hated him! Ron Weasley was his best friend, along with Granger. Crabbe and Goyle were actually sitting in the same room with Harry, and they weren't cowering. Harry lived with his muggle Aunt and Uncle.
"You know what," Harry's voice pulled Blaise out of his thoughts. Harry laughed humorlessly. "All my things are at the castle with Daddy. Everything except for that," he waved his hand at the duffle bag that Blaise knew held only feminine products. He suddenly began to laugh and as he did so he dug his finger into his left arm where his Dark mark inhabited so many other Death Eaters.
"Harry, stop," Blaise commanded, "What if... what if your father hates you? What will you do then?" Harry's breathing suddenly stopped. The boy's eyes glazed over with a look of death upon them. "Harry, Harry it was only a suggestion!" Blaise yelled. A swoosh of air and Harry was breathing again. "You need to pull yourself together. We'll figure a out out of this."
Blaise felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach when Harry's eyes began to fill with tears. He let out a soft sob and clenched his teeth. The tears already in his eyes leaked out and Harry wiped them away viciously.
"Harry?" Granger questioned softly.
"I'm fine," Harry said, though whether he was trying to convince her or himself went on unknown. He slowly pulled out one of the earpieces and shoved it into his pocket. "I don't want boobs anymore," he whined. Blaise blinked at him before bursting out into laughter.
Blaise was silent as he walked next to Harry, his hands in his pockets. He glanced at the shorter boy to find him fumbling with the collar of his robes. Harry had refused to ride in the horseless coaches. He used an excuse that even Blaise could not argue with. Harry was a dancer, a natural born dancer. He practiced during the school year alone and during the summers he went to his classes. This year Harry had not gone to his lessons, his excuse had been he couldn't let his legs get out of shape. But Blaise knew the real reason; Harry needed time to compose himself. He was a Gryffindor in this world, which meant he would not be sitting with Blaise and the other Slytherins.
They got to the castle later than most everyone; they were just before the first years. That meant they wouldn't get in trouble for walking in during the Sorting Ceremony. Blaise blinked when he felt a hand grip his arm.
"I don't want to sit with the Gryffindors," he whispered softly. Blaise sighed shaking his head.
"Harry you're a-"
"I am not," the grip on his arm tightened and he knew if Harry squeezed it just a bit harder his bone would break. "I never have been," the boy hissed, "I was raised to be a Slytherin; to be a patron of the Dark Arts. I was raised to not take sides but to be my own side. I will not change all of that just because *you* want me to be a Gryffindor."
Blaise was left speechless. Harry hardly spoke his mind, but when he did you were sure to get what you had coming to you.
"Harry, I don't want you to be Gryffindor, but here you are supposed-"
"If I was supposed to be a fucking Gryffindor I would have been chosen to be one years again by our own Sorting Hat!" Harry snarled. Blaise sighed softly. Harry may have not been a Gryffindor, but he could be just as stubborn as one sometimes.
"Fine," Blaise replied, carefully pulling Harry's hand off of his arm. "I don't see why you can't sit with us, but if McGonagall gets on to you," Blaise ended his sentence short as Harry was already walking towards the Great Hall. The boy could certainly act like a Gryffindor when he wanted to.
"Hello Blaise," one of the girls at the end of the Slytherin table said to him. He blinked taken aback by the way she watched him.
"Err, hello," he offered. He tensed as he walked with Harry. So far no one had said a thing to either of them about it. It wasn't until they sat down that Draco noticed them.
"Well, hello Blaise, Potter," he sneered at Harry. Harry clenched his jaw, forcing himself to calm.
"Draco, will you please stop calling me Potter? I do not like it and it is *not* my name." The manners that the boy had grown up with were now starting to pay off. He sat ramrod straight and there was a politeness in his voice that was not forced but seemed, in fact, natural.
"Mr. Potter or is it Ms. Potter?" the voice surprised the black-haired boy. He jumped and turned to face Severus Snape. "Have you forgotten your House?"
Blaise glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye to see the boy staring at Severus dumbfounded.
"And to talk I see," Severus murmured to himself as he watched Harry with a dark glee. "Perhaps you should move to the Gryffindor table, where you belong," he suggested. Harry's mouth moved but no words came forth. "Come now Potter, we don't have all day."
"B-but," Harry's voice was soft and almost inaudible.
"But what? Do you find more comfort sitting with the Slytherins rather than your own Gryffindors?" Harry swallowed nervously and nodded, it was barely an inclination of his head but it was a nod on all accounts. "But what would your mother and father think," Severus said a dark smirk playing at his lips.
"My...my mother and father, sir?" Harry questioned, his eyes widening in horror.
"Yes, Lily and James Potter. Have you forgotten that over the summer as well?" Harry was staring at Severus at though he'd just grown an extra pair of arms out of his head. It was for the tears streaming down Harry's face that Harry ran from the hall. It was the nausea that made him hold a hand over his mouth while he ran.
Harry held himself over the toilet, thankful that his hair had been tied back earlier that morning. Now it was only his bangs that hung in his eyes. His sobs nearly choked him as his stomach rejected everything in it. He didn't muffle his sobs, which quickly turned into howls of grief.
Blaise ignored the Sorting Ceremony. He clapped when necessary, but other than that his mind was elsewhere. He was watching the door for any sign that Harry was alright. The boy hardly ever cried, but at the moment he was obviously overwhelmed with a great deal of things.
It was near the end of the feast that one of the doors to the Great Hall opened and Harry walked through. He ignored the glances and whispers, walking steadily towards the Gryffindor table. He sat stiffly at the table and ignored the food, smiles, and questions cast his way. He laid his head in his crossed arms, ignoring the world itself, as it seemed.
His shoulders shook with sobs that he could not suppress. It left many people in mute silence. How many heroes cried in front of their supporters? How many heroes quickly lost faith in themselves and the human race when faced with their greatest fears? How many more disappointments would the boy savior have to face in his young life?
"Harry?" Hermione Granger laid one hand on the boy's back. The scream that pierced the Great Hall made everyone jump or choke on their food or drink. Harry had turned facing Hermione with wide, scared eyes. He was leaning against the table, his entire body shaking. Blaise could see the fear eating away at Harry as he gazed up and down the Gryffindor table.
It had been Gryffindors that had attacked him. It had been on the last day of school, they had all gotten away. Hagrid had found him, bloodied and curled into a ball. He had passed out from blood loss, tear stains on his face. He had slept for five days, and for five days his father had stayed by his side, petting his head and begging for him to awaken. It had a been a horrible sight. But now, now Harry was sitting by the Gryffindors, now Harry had to face up to his own fears and learn that not all Gryffindors were horrible.
A/N: I know it is kinda short, but I'm stuck at the moment. ^_~ Sides I need to work on White Roses anyways! REVIEW!!
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Yes, Dorothy