The Handkerchief
Full Summary: No one knows that Draco Malfoy has only pretended to be friends with Harry Potter for the last four years. Embittered and cynical, Malfoy means to bring about Harry's ruin by poisoning him against Hermione and Ron. Malfoy claims to hate Harry, though the reasons behind his hatred are ambiguous and, as Harry becomes more and more entangled in Draco's lies, their relationship deepens into something dark and intense.
A/N: This fanfic is based on Shakespeare's 'Othello'. While the plot and many major themes are borrowed from the play, such elements as characterisation and setting are firmly rooted in the Harry Potter universe. Story is set at the beginning of the 5th school year (OotP) in an Alternate Universe where Draco is, seemingly, Harry's friend.
Note on the Pairings: Primary pairing is Harry/Draco. Secondary pairings include Harry/Hermione, Ron/Lavender, Draco/Ginny (these pairings are merely for the convenience of the plot)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, I make no profit.
Thanks to Lena, my truly excellent beta.
Chapter 1
'For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In compliment extern, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.'
-Iago
Draco Malfoy and Cormac McLaggen made their way across the Quidditch Pitch. It was early evening and, it being the first day of November, the sky was overcast and fast growing dark.
"Of course I'm angry, what do you expect? We had an agreement. I've held up my end, but what have you done? Bugger all." McLaggen fumed, his voice shaking with the effort of keeping it lowered. "You tell me it's going well. You tell me she's interested in me! Now you tell me she's got together with him."
Malfoy's gaze was fixed ahead. "She is interested in you."
"Well, what more do I have to do? How much more do I have to spend?" McLaggen was silent for a moment before adding: "How long have you know he was interested in her?"
"Not long."
"Do you take me for an idiot?" he demanded, and not waiting for an answer, "You do, don't you? Well, you know what I think of you? I think your little lapdog routine isn't a routine at all. You pretend to hate him, but really you just want to drool over him with everyone else. You probably planned all this for him…"
Malfoy halted suddenly, forcing McLaggen to pull up short.
"Do you think I like Harry Potter?" asked Malfoy.
"It looks that way."
"We have been through this. How it looks and how it is are two different things. I hate him."
"Of course," McLaggen snorted.
"Potter thinks I'm his friend just like the rest of the school thinks I'm his friend. It's a lie I've been keeping up for the last four years." Malfoy's mouth twisted. "Four years…and still the only people he'll really bother with are the Weasel and the Mudblood. He knows I'm better than either of them, and he still chooses them. That does annoy me, I must say. But not much. I know it's only a matter of time until I get close enough. He won't know what I am, not until the end, and by then –"
"Yes, yes, you're very clever with your little secret agenda." McLaggen interrupted with a dismissive gesture. "You know, you're all talk and no trousers. If you have an issue with Potter, why don't you take it up with him and stop messing about? Duel him or something. Just see that he's smacked about thoroughly enough to remember not to cross you again. That's as complicated as the whole thing needs to get. You're wasting your time playing the Slytherin."
Malfoy inhaled deeply. "You're missing the point."
"Oh really?"
"Yes. Honesty – any of that. It's idiotic. Who's ever benefited themselves by being honest? My philosophy: do or say whatever you have to in order to get what you want. Above all, keep your real thoughts hidden. Start showing outside what's inside and things will go badly for you."
"Just duel him or something." McLaggen repeated, and in the same breath, "Look, it's freezing, what are we doing out here?"
"I assume you're still interested in pursuing the Mudblood?"
"Don't call her that." McLaggen snapped.
"Well?"
"Course I am. But I've already given you a ridiculous amount of money for jewelry and rubbish as it is. What about that Merrow Pearl necklace I paid an arm and a leg for? You said if I got her that she'd be mine. You've been disappearing off with my money for weeks, telling me 'just one more bracelet, just one more ring'. I've never seen her once wearing any of it!"
"Granger's modest. I thought you liked that about her."
"Well if she liked the gifts, and she's said she likes me, what she's doing getting together with Potter?" specks of spit flew from McLaggen's mouth. "Just my opinion, but it looks to me like you've messed up big time, Mr. Goddamn Go-Between."
"I've been doing my best." said Malfoy shortly. "I was making progress, then Potter had to swoop in and mess things up, as usual. It shouldn't be hard to turn Granger off him. She'll be desperate for you once she wakes up to Potter's inadequacies."
McLaggen contemplated this. "You think so?" he asked, then, folding his arms comfortably across his barrel chest, promptly answered his own question: "Well of course I know she likes me…it's just Potter getting in way."
"Mm." Malfoy agreed. His face was upturned towards the sky.
"So what is your plan?" said McLaggen, craning his head back as well. He started slightly as he caught sight of a tiny figure on a broomstick gliding through a controlled series of maneuvers high above their heads. "Who's –"
"Viktor Krum." said Malfoy. "He's on an exchange here for a month."
"Oh yeah, I think I heard about that..."
"I bet you don't know that during that time, Krum hopes to win over a certain Griffindor girl whose mysterious appeal I must say continues to elude me…"
"Are you being serious?" McLaggen sounded winded.
"They had a fling last year. Seems Krum still likes her a lot. He took part in the exchange especially for her. Rather pathetic."
"So you're saying I'm up against Potter and Krum?"
"Don't worry. We're going to put Krum to good use. He won't be happy when he finds out Potter's moved in on Granger. If all goes well, they'll soon be at each others throats, leaving you a clear shot at showing Granger what she's missing. By the time they've had it out with each other, she'll already be yours." Malfoy put his hands in his pockets and continued watching Krum's distinctive hunched figure sailing back and forth against the mottled clouds like a crumpled leaf on murky water.
"That's…that's actually rather good." said McLaggen at length. His face was turning ruddy with excitement. "So when are you going to break the news to him? Soon?"
"You're going to tell him, now."
"What! There's no way –"
"It won't work me telling him. I'm Potter's mate, remember?" Malfoy cocked a brow at McLaggen. "I have to be there, loyally by his side when Krum charges in all worked up, wanting to punch faces in. I think I've got the less pleasant job here. All you have to do is get talking to him, make some casual comment about Hermione Granger, the girl Potter's been shagging –"
"Watch it."
"– And he'll be rearing to go. Then simply point him in the direction of the Great Hall." Malfoy twisted his arm to get a look at his watch. "Dinner time. I want Krum and Potter to make a terrible scene, so really make sure you drive the point home. Go into detail – tell him Potter slept with her the night of the Yule Ball and they still laugh about it behind Krum's back."
"That's good, that's good." McLaggen chuckled. "You're a proper bastard, Malfoy."
"Just see to it that Krum looses his tempter. Who knows, if things go really well, Potter might attack Krum and get himself expelled."
"Convenient for you. Save you the embarrassment of losing again to Griffindor tomorrow." McLaggen sneered. He pointed suddenly. "Look, there he goes."
Malfoy watched through narrowed eyes as Krum glided, hawk-like and silent, towards the changing rooms.
"So you're going through with this?" Malfoy asked McLaggen. The burly youth hesitated, then grinned.
"There isn't a dare I've turned down yet. I'll do it."
They made for the changing rooms. Nearing the building, McLaggen clapped his hands together once, loudly.
"Tell you what, if this works, I'll have to admit there's something to be said about your approach after all."
Malfoy nodded, unsmilingly. "Good luck. You know where I'll be."
"All right, Weasely? You're not looking too cheerful." said Malfoy as he sidled up to the Griffindor table.
"I'm not feeling too cheerful." Ron was listlessly pushing a sausage around his plate.
"You're not still worrying about tomorrow?" said Malfoy.
"I have reason to worry." Ron groaned. "I just know I'm going to do something stupid like fall off my broom or get my foot stuck in the goal post…"
"Don't give me that rubbish." said Malfoy. "Harry told me all about that amazing save of yours the other day. You've got nothing to worry about. I mean, just look at who we've got for our Keeper – Miles Bletchley."
"Yeah, what's so wrong with him?" said Ron gloomily, though he had craned around to get a look at the Slytherin table and size up Bletchley for himself.
"There's nothing's wrong with him. I mean, he's average," Malfoy shrugged. "But I was watching his broom handling at practice yesterday. Believe me, you're a better flyer."
"Shut up, you're just trying to make me feel better." said Ron gruffly, but he was clearly pleased, his ears reddening at the compliment. At that moment, Fred and George Weasely arrived. They made a show of jostling Malfoy on the way to their seats.
"Bloody Slytherins clogging up the isle!" George complained loudly, a grin on his face.
"You're taking your life in your hands standing here, Malfoy, you should be more careful." Fred cautioned him soberly, while at the same time planting his hand on Malfoy's head and thoroughly messing up his hair. "We wouldn't want you to get hexed by some loyal Griffindor supporters and miss the match tomorrow. Then who would we aim our Bludgers at?" Malfoy shoved him off, made a show of seeming half-indignant, half-amused. It was then that he caught sight of Harry.
"Mind asking your teammates to stop molesting me, Potter?"
Harry couldn't help but laugh as he watched Malfoy straightening his disheveled robes.
"Fred's right you know." He said. "This side of the Hall isn't the safest place for you at the moment."
"Maybe," said Ron. "But from the look on Montague's face, the Slytherin end's not be much better."
Harry and Malfoy followed Ron's gaze and saw that the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, Montague, was watching them from the other end of the Great Hall with a black expression. Malfoy turned back to Ron with a grimace.
"And you think you've got reason to be worried? Montague probably thinks I'm telling you all his ingenious strategies." Malfoy rolled his eyes.
"Your team still giving you a hard time?" Harry asked quietly.
"No, not really, but you know how it is. I'm not making myself very popular 'fraternizing with the enemy'. I wonder, can enemies give each other advice? Because if so, here's some for you, Potter: get a good night's sleep tonight. We all know how sloppy your feint gets when you haven't had enough sleep. It's embarrassing."
"My feint? If I was you I'd be worrying about that suicidal Wronski of yours." Harry retorted. "You need to remember to pull up; I don't want to be scraping you off the pitch."
"All right, I think that's enough advice. If Angelina heard any of this she'd kill you." said Ron nervously.
"Good point." Harry darted a quick look up and down the table to see if the Griffindor Captain was nearby.
"How goes it with Miss Granger then?" Malfoy asked.
Harry avoided his eye, cheeks coloured. "Oh, well, yeah–"
"It's nauseating." said Ron. "I've had to put up with the two of them all day being kissy-faced and lovey-dovey."
"What was that, Ron?" Hermione's voice made them all jump. She had crept up behind Harry unnoticed. Malfoy watched her brush her hand along his shoulder. Harry coloured even more and stared at her with a soft smile on his lips. She held his look for a lingering moment before turning to address Malfoy.
"Good luck for tomorrow, Draco."
"Thanks, it should be a good match. And while we're on the subject of good matches…congratulations on roping Potter."
"Why thank you." said Hermione with a note of satisfaction, as if receiving praise for a particularly inspired essay.
"Though it took the pair of you long enough." Malfoy smirked.
"You can say that again." Ron snorted.
"Oh yeah, like it didn't take you just as long to work up the nerve to ask Lavender out." Harry retorted.
"So when are you going to go public?" Malfoy asked. Harry and Hermione exchanged uneasy looks.
"Just as soon as Viktor leaves Hogwarts." Hermione sighed. "He says he still has feelings for me."
"Krum? Really?" said Malfoy.
"Yes. He can't seem to accept that I no longer feel the same way. He'd be devastated if he found about me and Harry so soon. It's better to wait until there's enough time and…distance between us."
"I can't imagine he'd be too angry." said Malfoy. "He'll take one look at you and Harry and see you're meant for each other. Match made in heaven. All that stuff."
"Please, don't you start as well." said Ron.
"Oi, Malfoy!" A loud voice barked. Several people glanced around at Montague, for the loud voice belonged to him.
"Looks like you're wanted." Harry muttered. An expression of intense annoyance crossed Malfoy's face, but he shrugged it off and obediently made his way across the crowded Great Hall to his house's table. Professor Snape, seated at the staff table, was watching him with cold, reproachful eyes. The Potions Master appeared to be the only person who disapproved of Malfoy's familiarity with the Griffindors more than Montague.
Harry felt a keen stab of sympathy for Malfoy, noting the looks which he endured. Montague had risen from his seat. A good head taller than his Seeker, he struck an intimidating figure. Harry didn't like the way he planted a hand on the back of Malfoy's neck and stared aggressively into his face as he delivered his reprimand.
"What do you think the Sorting Hat was playing at putting him in Slytherin?" said Ron, voicing the exact thought which had been passing through Harry's mind.
"It obviously had its reasons." said Hermione as she and Harry sat down. "Besides, I'm personally glad he's not in Griffindor."
"That's a bit strong." Ron looked taken aback.
"I don't mean it like that. Don't you realize what a positive example Draco's setting? If people can see that you don't have to be in the same house to be friends, then they'll realise how ridiculous all this animosity between the houses is. Remember the Sorting Hat's song? 'We must unite'? A friendship between Griffindors and a Slytherin is a step in the right direction, don't you think, Harry? Harry?"
But Harry's attention was now on the doors of the Great Hall, through which Viktor Krum had just stalked. Harry didn't at all like the rigid look of fury on his face as he made for the Griffindor table. Hermione had just caught sight of Krum herself, and she'd half-risen from her seat to greet him, when he launched himself at Harry, grabbing the front of his robes and hauling him to his feet. Harry had no time to react as Krum's fist struck his face. He felt a blaze, heard his jaws crack together. The blow jarred him. In the next instant his elbow connected sharply with stone and he found himself sprawled on the floor, shouts filling the air. Hermione was at his side.
"Harry – Harry, are you alright?" she cried. He touched his mouth, numb and foreign like it was someone else's. His lip had split and his fingers came away sticky. Grunts and curses could be heard. Ron, Fred and George all had hold of Krum, and it was taking their combined efforts to keep him from going for Harry again.
Hermione stared up at Krum in disbelief.
"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded in a tight voice.
"You thought I vouldn't find out?" Krum growled, still struggling against the Weaselys, dark eyes murderous and fixed on Harry.
"Find out what?" said Hermione. She turned to Harry without meaning to and the alarm in her eyes told him that they could both guess what Krum had found out.
"Move aside!" Professor McGonagall's sharp tones could be heard as she made her way through the small crowd of Griffindors who had risen from their seats see what the commotion was about. Catching sight first of Krum, then of Harry, who being helped up by Hermione, a look of surprise flitted across her stern features.
"What is going on here? Mr. Krum?"
Krum ignored her and continued straining like a wild boar.
"He's gone nuts." Fred said through gritted teeth. "Just ran up and punched Harry out of nowhere."
"He deserved it and more!" said Krum, chest heaving.
"Calm yourself this instant, Krum, unless you want me to use a Body-Bind Curse on you!" McGonagall barked, placing herself in Krum's eye-line so that he had no choice but to meet her gaze. Krum glared at her mutinously, but the uncompromising threat communicated in the set line of McGonagall's lips and the pinched furrow between her brows was enough to somewhat cool his fury. He grew still and the Weaselys cautiously released him.
"Good." McGonagall barked. "Now, you're coming with me to my office and you'd better have a good explanation for –"
But with a gesture like a striking serpent, Krum whipped out his wand and pointed it in Harry's direction. Krum's lips moved to form the words of what Harry felt sure was a very unpleasant hex – but in the instant before any sound could escape him, someone else shouted:
"Expelliarmus!"
The wand flew out of Krum's hand and straight into Professor Snape's. The Potions Master had descended upon the scene, black robes rippling behind him.
"Perhaps you are not yet familiar with Hogwarts code of conduct, Mr. Krum," said Snape quietly. "We do not allow students to use magic to attack one another here."
Now standing quite still, his hands fisted at his sides, Krum lowered his head and scowled at the flour. Snape turned to McGonagall, who just then looked almost too outraged to speak.
"I will deal with this. Krum is, after all, an honorary member of my house for the duration of his exchange…however short-lived that proves to be in light of his behavior."
"Well, I think I too would like to hear why a member of my house has been attacked without provocation." McGonagall replied curtly. "My office is nearest."
Snape inclined his head ever so slightly.
"I want to speak to you, Potter," McGonagall said. She glanced between Harry and Hermione before adding: "And you, Granger."
It was then that Harry became aware that he was holding Hermione's hand.
McGonagall turned to lead the way out of the Great Hall, keeping a close eye on Krum.
"I'll wait up for you." Ron said to Harry and Hermione. Snape followed last of all. The level of noise in the Great Hall rose, students all at once voicing speculations about the inexplicable incident.
"Why's Krum suddenly out to kill your boy?" Montague said at Malfoy's shoulder. He spoke the word 'boy' with a malicious sneer.
"Can't imagine." Malfoy murmured. He turned away as Snape glided past the Slytherin table, avoiding the Potions Master's piercing gaze.