Breakfast was absolutely awful. People leered at me the entire time I tried to eat. I managed a piece of toast before I absolutely had to get out. Someone had put their foot out, effectively tripping me. As I righted myself, someone else had thrown eggs in my face. I had wiped them off, and walked calmly out of the Great Hall.
I lingered outside of Defense Against the Dark Arts. The class had only Gryffindor students, to minimize injuries. Ha ha. I thought sourly. I'll need Madame Pomfrey after 5 minutes in this class. I summoned all my Gryffindor courage and walked into the class, waving to Professor Lupin. I slid into my seat, noting that nobody was doing anything. They weren't even staring. Hope rose up inside me.
Halfway through class, when Professor Lupin was talking about the effects of the Imperio curse, a note landed on my desk. Hermione tutted and Ron glared around the room, but I opened it and read it. My hopes sank to the bottom of my soul and died. On the note, there was a picture of me, with my—er—jangly bits and it says "Write your name if you think Harry Potter is a dirty fag". Underneath that, at least half of the Gryffindor boys and a third of the girl had signed their name. One person had wrote, "that is a sick thing to say and I think you and everyone else who wrote their name here is a twisted bastard and should rot in hell." I felt a rush of compassion for the person who wrote that. But the hope was still at the bottom of my soul. In a grave. That everyone is probably dancing on right now.
I crumpled the note in my hands and tossed it over my shoulder. I hope it hit someone in the face.
I breezed through the Great Hall, sitting at my regular seat at the Slytherin table. Glancing over my shoulder, I looked at Harry. He sat with his head bowed, scooping mashed potatoes and gravy into his mouth so fast; you'd have thought he'd been starved for a week. His back was slumped and his eyes darted from one end of the table to the other. People were whispering and pointing and laughing at him. Someone flung a spoonful of peas in his face. He flinched, and scooped the food faster. He clearly could not wait to get out of there.
My temper flared, and I got up out of my seat. I stalked over to the Gryffindor table, my Get-Down-On-Your-Knees-I-Own-You-And-Your-Bitch glare on my face. I reached Harry and rested my hand lightly on his back. He stiffened, and I whispered to him.
"Relax, it's me." I rubbed his back, my hands moving in little circles. He slouched back down, turning to me with a brilliant smile. Someone threw a can of muggle soda. My head whipped in their direction. My face turned icy-cold, my glare on once more. "Listen up you ass-faced little fuckers. You leave my Harry alone." Some dark blond haired Gryffindor stood up. "Yeah?" he sneered. "What if I don't?"
I gave him a feral smile that wiped his sneer off his face. "I bet you all know Fenrir Greyback. Well, he's a friend of the family. How'd you like it I sic'd him on your little brother or sister? Your mom?" I gave a laugh that sounded far from cheery. "You want another reason? Bellatrix LeStrange? Yeah. She's my aunt. Sirius Black? My Cousin. You have no idea how fucked up you'll be if you mess with my boyfriend." The entire Great Hall was dead silent, staring at me with their spoons halfway to their mouths. In my rage I had started full-out shouting. I looked around. "This goes for everyone." The first and second years nodded quickly. I think one of them may have peed their pants. I turned back to Harry. "Have you finished your dinner?" he nodded, shocked. "Good." I held out my hand. He took it. I kissed it lightly, and we strolled out of the Great Hall, our hands intertwined.
Well. This is the end. But don't worry! A new Drarry fic is coming soon! :) review please. Happy Holidays!