A/N: Hello there readers! Well, I saw a quote that just inspired the heck out of me, so I thought I would write this little one-shot to try to get my writing back in gear. I've been trying to finish the next part for my story Never Alone, but it's been proving tricky. Please enjoy this one-shot, and for those of you waiting for an update on Never Alone, bear with me and please be patient!
Superfluous Slytherin
"A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous." – Ingrid Bergman
Potions was still Harry's least favourite class, even though the war was over and Snape wasn't nearly as snarky and surly as before. He just wasn't any good at it, and he still had no idea how he had managed to get into Snape's seventh year N.E.W.T.s class, especially after the man had discovered Harry had been using the Half-Blood Prince's book in sixth year to gain the upper hand in the class. Still, as Harry struggled to chop his valerian roots to just the right size, nearly skinning his own finger in the process, he had to admit that he was glad Snape had let him in anyways. After all, St. Mungo's wouldn't accept him to the Healer's programme without seven years of potions, and an O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. in the subject to boot.
"Potter, the instruction call for each strip of root to be precisely three millimetres each, not five."
Harry blew out a frustrated breath and glared at his potions partner, setting his silver chopping knife on the table with a loud clang.
"These are three millimetres, Malfoy," Harry hissed through clenched teeth, wanting to smack the superior expression right off the smug Slytherin's face. He thought that the Headmistresses new House desegregation rules were helping to bridge the gaps between the students, but forcing him to be partner with Malfoy in potions was pushing things a little too far, in his opinion.
Draco grabbed up his ruler and pulled one of the immaculately sliced pieces of root in front of him, lining it up with the miniscule lines and numbers on the wood. The width spanned from the edge, and a little ways over to the –
"Fuck," Harry cursed as he saw that the root was indeed two millimetres too wide. He pulled the ruler and root back from Malfoy, and set to slicing each of the thirty slivers down to the right size. He hated potions.
"I'd hurry with that if I were you. The next step requires the roots to be added in one by one, with exactly three seconds between each," Draco informed the Gryffindor as he double-checked the instructions and stirred their simmering potion twice clockwise, three times counter-clockwise.
"Does it seriously matter how much time passes between each root? For the love of Merlin, could this potion be any more annoying?" Harry snapped, slicing his finger after missing the root completely. He cursed and stuck his finger in his mouth, sucking the blood off as he slammed his knife down once more.
"It could be as annoying as you are, Potter. Let me see your finger, you baby," Draco drawled, using his wand to siphon the blood off of the worktop, knife, and root.
Harry glared, but removed his finger from his mouth and presented it to the Slytherin. He had gotten himself pretty good, the blood spilling to the floor even though it had only been out of his mouth for a second or two. He hissed as Malfoy took hold of his hand, then dragged his wand tip from one edge of the cut to the other, muttering a healing spell as he went. The cut knit smoothly together, the skin a little pink in irritation underneath the blood. The blonde siphoned the blood from Harry's hand and the floor as well before turning back to their potion.
"Thanks," Harry said grudgingly, picking the knife back up and slicing the roots much more carefully. As he finished the very last one, he pushed the pile towards Malfoy, who was turning the fire up by ten degrees for the next step. The blonde turned to ask Harry if he was sure the roots were the right size, but he paused mid-speech.
"Potter, you have blood, just there," Draco said, unhelpfully pointing to a general spot on Harry's face.
Harry wiped at his face, ironically completely missing the splash of blood. "Did I get it?"
Draco sighed heavily and shook his head, reaching up to wipe the blood away from the corner of Harry's mouth. His thumb brushed the Gryffindor's bottom lip, and he was surprised to find the skin very soft and warm. He quickly turned back to the potion and started to add the roots, ignoring the lingering stare of his partner.
The class was going extremely slowly in Harry's opinion, as it was a double period just before lunch. He was getting very easily distracted as Malfoy gave him instructions, instead finding himself staring at the Slytherin's lips as he spoke, his own lip tingling where Malfoy had brushed it earlier.
"Potter! Pay attention, will you? I need the powdered unicorn horn before our cauldron explodes!" Draco growled, looking around in his and Harry's ingredient kits for the little baggy of white powder. He always made sure he was stocked up properly; it had to be there somewhere.
Harry blinked, snapping himself out of it. He reached for a drawer on his potions kit at the exact same time as Malfoy, their fingers colliding together. Harry's gaze snapped over to Malfoy, who had paused just like he had. The blonde met his eyes for a second, then grabbed his hand away as if he'd been bitten.
"I'll just go ask Professor Snape for some from the storage cabinets."
Harry watched the Slytherin walk to the back of the room, where the Potions Professor was criticising Pansy Parkinson's potion. He watched the exchange, again concentrating on Malfoy's lips as he spoke, noting the annoyed glare Snape shot him and the succinct nod before Malfoy disappeared into the storage room.
What was wrong with him today? Harry had been partners with Malfoy in potions for the past three months now, and he had never been so distracted by the Slytherin before. Perhaps he just needed to get some sleep. Or maybe it was because his sexual experiences for the year consisted of his own hand and a random drunken snog with Seamus Finnegan after Gryffindor's first Quidditch win of the season. Whatever it was, he needed to get over it, quick. He was already pants at potions as it was; being endlessly distracted by pink lips, pale skin and blonde hair was not going to help his marks in the slightest.
Twenty more minutes later, Draco was bottling a perfectly completed batch of skele-grow and handing it in to Snape. He and Harry cleaned their worktop quickly and packed all of their ingredients away before joining the horde of students who flooded out of the door as the bell for lunch rang.
"Shite, I forgot my book, hang on," Malfoy ordered as he doubled back halfway down the corridor to get his book. It was a Monday, and on Mondays, Gryffindors and Slytherins had to eat at the same table. It was habit for Harry and Draco to walk to lunch together and sit together after potions.
The blonde surfaced from the classroom and jogged down the hall, stopping beside Harry to stuff his book in his bag before restarting the trek out of the dungeons. They were alone in the corridor now, as everyone else had already high-tailed it to lunch.
"We're going to have to send an order to the apothecary in Hogsmeade for some more powdered unicorn horn. It's such a common ingredient, we can't keep asking Snape to use his stores. I could have sworn I bought three baggies in Diagon Alley. We couldn't have used that much already, could we? Well, I guess the Draught of Immortal Peace did use half a baggie on it's own, and then those antivenins used quite a bit last week as well, but still, there should have been plenty left – "
Harry stopped abruptly and put a hand over the blonde's mouth. He had had about enough of Malfoy's babbling as they walked, and he knew no better way to shut the Slytherin up.
"Please stop talking, Malfoy," Harry said in a weary tone as he moved his hand away from the blonde's mouth, uncaring of the death glare the other boy was giving him.
"What the hell, Potter? You're probably the one who lost all of the powdered unicorn horn anyways! I told you to let me keep the kit outside of class but no, you insist-mm."
Harry wasn't sure what made him think that kissing Malfoy would be a better way to shut him up then using his hand again, but he was right. The blonde stood there, thunderstruck as Harry pressed his lips to the blonde's. They were just as soft and warm as they looked.
Just as Harry went to pull away, he got a surprise of his own as Malfoy started to kiss back, moving closer so that their chests were pressed together, and a hand snaked into his unruly black hair. He felt Malfoy's tongue swipe deliciously across his bottom lip, and gladly obliged the request, opening his mouth to allow the Slytherin to slide the muscle slowly against his own tongue.
Without knowing exactly when it had happened, Harry pulled away from the kiss to catch his breath and found that he was pressing Malfoy into the wall, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other tangled in the silky blonde locks.
"Was there any specific reason for that particularly fantastic kiss?" Draco asked breathlessly, keeping his arms wrapped firmly around the Gryffindor as the taller boy looked down into his eyes. The emerald orbs with shining with mirth, and something like hunger.
"I had to shut you up some way," Harry responded, grinning as the Slytherin burst into laughter, then dragged him back down for another hungry, passionate kiss. Harry may find that he gain a new appreciation for potions after this day.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think!
