Title: Jealous?
Author: Ellatrix Lestrange
Beta(s): none
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: K+
Genre: romance/angst/humour
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Summary: Harry Potter is rescued from the flirtatious Seamus Finnigan by none other than a seething Draco Malfoy, who for some reason had been watching the scene from behind bushes. One-shot. Contains some swearing and stereo-typing gays - not my opinion of them, the characters! I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the wizarding world; I am merely a fan writing fan fiction, and giving Harry Potter the ending I wish it had. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling/Warner Bros etc.
I hope you enjoy, and please review!
The sky was bleak and bright as Harry and Seamus walked on the bank of the lake outside Hogwarts. It was the weekend; Ron and Hermione were off snogging somewhere, and Harry had been left to the company of the other Gryffindors. As soon as he'd sat down in the common room alone, the giggling Irish boy had grabbed him by the hand and dragged him outside. The awkward attempts at conversation had been fruitless to Seamus Finnigan's rather annoying relentless compliments about Harry's hair, bravery, eyes, figure, clothes, sense of humour, skin, Quidditch skills, Defence Against the Dark Arts skills and modesty. If he heard one more tinkling chortle from the boy, he was going to feed himself to the Giant Squid.
"Harry, your hair's so scruffy!" laughed Seamus.
"It's not my fault, I've tried to brush it."
"Here, let me," the Irish boy winked, rolling up his sleeves and moving forward to put his hands in Harry's hair.
"Uhh, okay, then…" said the raven-haired boy, looking uneasy.
"It's not even tangled, it's really soft."
"Still uncontrollable, though," he muttered sadly.
"Don't be stupid, it's really nice," grinned Seamus, still looking at the top of the boy's head and running his hands through the hair.
"Err, Seamus? I don't really think it needs brushing; it's not knotted or anything."
"You don't like me combing it?" he asked, lowering his head to look into his eyes and smiling.
"W- Well, it looks a bit… odd."
"What's wrong with it?"
"I can't describe it, it just doesn't look very platonic."
Seamus didn't speak, trailing his fingers down from Harry's hair, down his shoulder and down to his chest.
"Oh, doesn't it?" he said, almost absently.
"Err, no."
He shifted uncomfortably.
"You have really nice eyes, Harry."
Before Harry could choke on a reply to this statement, he heard a familiar voice yell from a distance behind him.
"Potter!"
Malfoy.
Harry scrambled away from Seamus.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
"To tell you how incredibly gay you look," he spat, doing his best not to fall over as he came running down the rocky hill sloping down from the school.
"Shut up," Harry said hotly.
"Yeah, Malfoy, you can be quiet; Harry's sexual preferences are nothing to do with you."
"Seamus," groaned Harry, "I'm straight!"
"Of course you are, Potter!" hissed the Slytherin.
"I wasn't doing anything!" Harry insisted.
"He didn't get a chance to, Malfoy, because you just had to come and interrupt! "
Malfoy ignored Seamus.
"I saw what was happening - he was stroking your hair and feeling you up!"
"Malfoy, I can promise you, I had nothing sexual in mind!" Harry cried.
"Can you say the same for Finnigan?"
"Why do you care?"
"Jealous?" the Irish boy quipped.
"No I am not fucking jealous!" he blushed.
"Malfoy, I'm not gay."
"That's what you say! How many girlfriends have you ever had?"
Harry felt his face heat up.
"It doesn't concern you!"
"Two!"
"Been counting?"
"No!"
"You're one to criticize people's sexuality, Malfoy; I've seen the way you dress - you wear skinny jeans!"
And jewellery - silver, emerald encrusted rings adorned with pointless carvings of serpents and the letter 'M'.
"What does it matter what I'm wearing?"
"You're a boy!"
"Does that mean my trousers can't be thinner?" asked the blond, glowering at Harry and moving closer.
"It means most gays wear skinny jeans!"
"Shut up! I happen to like them!"
"You would, wouldn't you?"
"Shut it, Potter! What about you and your girly hair?"
"Girly hair? I don't choose to have hair like this! Besides, yours is worse! You actually style yours so it's slicked back, mine's just scruffy!"
The venom in the Gryffindor's eyes was exactly mirrored in those of Draco. A wild urge to punch him in the face was suppressed only by his need to conquer the verbal battle they were currently having.
"Because it suits me, unlike you and yours!"
"It sure suits you!"
"See what I mean? You're gay!"
"I meant it sure suits your pompous and girly personality."
"How dare you?!"
"It's not as if you didn't come flying down here accusing me of the same thing!"
"Yes, but that's because you actually are!"
"See?"
"You were getting it on with Finnigan, I was watching you!"
"What do you mean you were 'watching me'?"
The Slytherin looked horror-stricken.
"You- I wasn't! I was just coming down here when I saw you and him!"
"You were watching me, weren't you Malfoy?!"
"No I was not!" he said, glaring at Harry as they stood, face to face, hands hovering near their pockets ready to draw their wands.
"Yeah, and you say I'm the homosexual one."
"Shut up!" he said, his voice high.
"I don't know what your problem is!" Harry shouted, unaware of the volume of his voice.
"You were checking Finnigan out! He's not even hot!"
"I was not! And how would that effect you?" shouted Harry.
"Guys, I'm standing right here," said Seamus blankly.
"You deserve someone better, Potter!"
"Ha, very funny. I've got more people trying to flirt with me than you have!"
"No, you deserve someone better!"
Draco's voice was no longer malicious; Harry gave him a quizzical look.
"What?" Harry was staring at him.
"Malfoy, back off!"
"Quiet, Finnigan!"
"What do you mean, Malfoy?" asked Harry cautiously.
"Err," the blonde said, his eyes widening.
"Harry, he's trying to come on to you!" Seamus said.
"Come on to me? What are you on about?"
"He's put himself an inch from your face, he's bright red, he hasn't used any spells on you, he's been watching you, he checked you out a second ago, sounds close to tears, he now looks incredibly embarrassed and very angry at me-"
"SHUT UP!" screamed Draco.
A purple streak of light came shooting out of Malfoy's wand, which was now pointed at the Irish Gryffindor. Before Seamus could make a move, the light wrapped itself around him and sent the poor boy spinning towards the trunk of the willow tree, where it entangled itself in the tree's branches and gagged a terrified Seamus Finnigan. The Irish boy struggled to escape, but to no avail.
"FUCK, MALFOY, HOW DARE YOU? WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?"
"Fine, Potter; have it your way, just go and fuck that stupid goofy Gryffindor!"
"WHY THE HELL DO YOU EVEN CARE?" shouted Harry.
"I DON'T KNOW!"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU 'DON'T KNOW'?"
"I DON'T KNOW – I DON'T EVEN WANT TO KNOW! ALL I KNOW IS THAT YOU STANDING THERE WITH HIM ANNOYS THE HELL OUT OF ME!"
"THEN GO AWAY, NOBODY ASKED YOU TO STALK ME!" bellowed the Gryffindor.
"YOU MEAN LIKE WHAT YOU DID TO ME IN SIXTH YEAR?"
"THAT WAS DIFFERENT, I WAS TRYING TO FIND OUT WHAT YOU WERE UP TO!"
"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!" cried Draco hoarsely. "Fuck, Potter, just be quiet!"
"What is wrong with you?!" Harry asked. His expression suddenly changed to a worried look. "God – Malfoy, seriously; what's happened?"
The Slytherin glared menacingly at Harry for a second, before casting his eyes to the pebbly ground, his expression fading to one of unexplainable defeat; all anger gone.
"I have a problem with you being… with someone else," said Draco weakly.
The raven-haired boy's features morphed into horror.
"What? Malfoy- what?"
"Exactly what I'm thinking," groaned the blond in a very un-Malfoy-ish way, covering his face with his hands.
Harry watched the Slytherin's pale and miserable face in alarm.
"Err, sorry?" Harry asked nervously, praying to God that what he thought was running through Malfoy's mind wasn't.
"Potter?" he croaked. "Do you m- mind if I… try something?"
"M- Malfoy, what're you doing?"
The Slytherin had gotten up shakily, then made his way towards the green-eyed boy, blushing pink.
"P- Please, I just need to try this – to test it."
"Test what?" Harry asked, suddenly fairly scared as Malfoy came face-to-face with him.
"This," Malfoy whimpered, obviously swallowing his pride.
"Wh- Malfoy, fuck, no-"
He was cut off as Draco pressed their lips together clumsily. The Gryffindor gasped against the Pure-Blood's lips in shock. For a few seconds, he was paralysed, making no move to escape the kiss. He was frozen, shock still, as he felt moist, warm lips press against his; sweet breath racing from in between them and into the Gryffindor's mouth. Amidst the thoughts thundering around in his head, Harry realised that Malfoy was a startlingly good kisser, considering he had done nothing but put his lips against Harry's. His lips were soft and trembling slightly with each breath; and Harry suddenly received the most absurd desire to steady the Slytherin's shaking by cutting off his air supply and replacing it with his own mouth - until rational thoughts re-joined him, and Harry shoved the Slytherin roughly away. Draco staggered backward; the eyes that looked into Harry's own betraying his inner terror and dread.
"Oh," the Slytherin barely whispered wide-eyed, his voice audible to Harry despite the slight breeze and distance between them. "Right. Well, those were the worst possible results ever."
"Malfoy – what the actual-"
"I like you," he interrupted faintly, more to himself than the raven-haired boy.
Harry's eyes widened to the size of a house elf's.
"You l- like me?!"
"Y- Yes," he said, looking as though he couldn't even believe the words himself.
"You like me?! W- Why?! And how?" Harry asked, his voice stating his panic.
"N- No, Malfoy, you can't just-"
"Please don't tell a soul, Potter!"
"I won't! It's just why did you j-"
Harry stopped as he saw Malfoy's crimson face stained with misery.
"Goodbye."
And he turned and fled from the stricken Gryffindor. Harry stared after him for a minute, before shaking his head vigorously and sprinting to follow, his mind racing with confusion and anger; completely forgetting his fellow house-mate strapped to a tree.
