What were You Expecting?
featuring
Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy
Extra: Was listening to Joel Adam's Please don't Go while writing this. This song along with my current semi depressed mood conjured up this short story. Like it or hate it... I still wrote it anyways.
Those hands were warm. Those hands flexed. Those hands fisted. Those hands felt. Those hands loss. Those hands punched. Those hands caressed. Those hands spoke. Those hands shuttered. Those hands held. Those hands became cold.
"Harry, there's nothing you can do, he chose his side."
"That's right, Potter." He started the moment the door to the empty classroom shut behind them. "Get angry, hex the dung outta me. I bloody dare you to take your justice, saint Potter."
"Come'on mate, just leave him be, he'll get found by the right people."
"Tis about cunning. Nothing your Gryffindor's traits can help you with there, scar-head." There was amusement in his voice as the two claimed two seats in the back of the library in the last half hour before students were to leave the area for their common rooms.
"Harry Potter, do you vouch for this man?"
"That'd be the day...Dumbledore's golden boy having the back of a Death Eater's son. If that ever happens either you or I had been hit with a strong confundus charm and we'd be waking up in the Janus Thickey ward at Saint Mungo's. How humorously gasty."
"I'm sorry Harry, but I can't say he doesn't deserve it after all he did to us for all those years."
"You know, Potter. I wouldn't mind dying right now so…" He stepped forward, took hold of the other boy's wrist and directed that wand holding hand to press the tip snugly against the core of his chest. " Do it. It's fine if it's you, political riots and all that."
"They're still debating over the sentence if he should be there for life or just 6 years."
"Don't make me laugh. I assure you that's sarcasm by the way, in case you're too thick to get that." His lips were tinted with a smile as he leaned back against the empty hallway wall. "Regardless though, never thought I'd be, well you know," he motioned between them carelessly, "in this setting. Reminds me of that robe shop first year."
"Why do you want to visit him? I don't understand…"
"I don't need your blasted pity, Potter. So quit looking at me like that already." His hands yanked on the other's robes, shaking them bodily from the shoulders up for a good moment before stopping. "That's the last thing I need from you. You're lucky my father can't ever hear about this."
"What about Ginny? She won't wait forever for you and don't get me wrong, you'll always be my best mate, but she's my little sister. Don't mess with her feelings...just, what's stopping you?"
"I think I brewed that potion wrong. There's no way I'd be thinking you're eyes put my house colors to shame, Potter. Hell, even your mangled mop of hair is...and you're-" He cut himself off as he realized the space between them lessened; their breathing almost mingling now due to the closeness. "Did you just get closer, Potter?"
"You need a life, you need to move on from the war and going on those prison trips is the last thing you need to help you move on. Ron agrees with me fully, Ginny too."
"Hiding out again? Some would start to think you didn't like the spotlight." His hands turned on the tap but his focus remained upon the other as he washed his hands. "Too bad they are all gullible to image, hm?"
"Harry, I hope you know what you're doing."
"Geezes, Potter! I thought you were really going to kill me, given I was about to dish you some pain but-" His words were forced to cut off by an expected reason but a delayed shove fixed that. "Is that you're messed up way of saying sorry? Bloody hell, you stupid Gryffindor."
"Back again, Mr. Potter? Same cell as always, don't get why you bother though."
"The train compartment thing didn't have to happen if you left well enough alone. Why must you always be so nosy, Scar-head." He shook his head before stepping onto the moving staircase just a second before it would've been too far away to reach.
"What becomes of the their name and all it entitles are of no concern to you. Do know that the Ministry has taken action after the arrests."
"I'm marked."
"Are you sure this what you want to do, Harry?"
"They're happy to see a Death Eater rot. There is no redemption of image for these people, more so for a Malfoy." He paused but a breath was released before they turned around. "You should know all about that, after all, mock heir of Slytherin."
"He's been moved to Saint Mungo's, Mr. Potter. However I advise you to keep your distance."
"Your hands are too warm. Reminds me of that year when you-"
"Oh Harry...I didn't know...there was nothing we could of done, even for him."
"Say my name, Harry... If you want to help, say my name and be sure to never forget it..."
Harry stood by the fresh dirt. His green eyes staring at the carvings imprinted there with the background sound of a calm night. He crouched down and traced the dents upon the stone placed before the patted dirt. He closed his eyes, pressed a kiss to the top and turned his back to it only to sit down and lean against it. "Draco Malfoy...Draco Malfoy...Draco.."
"My names Malfoy.." he extended his hand out to his fellow first year with the intention to guide them rightly through their school years. "Draco Malfoy."
Their hands were warm. Their hands flexed. Their hands fisted. Their hands felt. Their hands loss. Their hands punched. Their hands caressed. Their hands spoke. Their hands shuttered. Their hands held. Their hands became cold.
