I'll be posting as much as I can. I already have about five chapters
written, so I'll be posting one roughly every day...at the beginning at
least. A week might space some of the later chapters if I become too busy
with schoolwork, etc. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story. Here's a small
summary:
Draco is forced to make a potion with Neville Longbottom and of course it gets screwed up. Although no one knows it, the potion they thought was a simple warmth potion ends up becoming Draco's worst nightmare. Or will it become his biggest miracle? (SLASH, MPREG) Be warned, this is a HARRYxDRACO fic.
Author's Note: I will try to stick to each character's personality as much as possible, but forgive me if anyone seems a bit OOC at times. Thanks! Oh yeah, and no flames please!
Diclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and neither am I making money for writing this pathetic attempt of a fanfic.
~-~-~-~-~-
-~WORST NIGHTMARE...OR BIGGEST MIRACLE?~-
~Chapter One: Only A Simple Warmth Potion?~
"Malfoy, you'll be working with Longbottom today," Snape told the blond-haired Slytherin. Draco didn't know how much those seven words would completely disrupt his life.
"But Prof-" he protested, outrage evident in his voice.
Professor Snape stopped the teenager before the protest was even fully formed. "Shut it, Malfoy. Or would you like ten points deducted from Slytherin?"
That effectively quieted Draco, although a scowl was evident on the blue-eyed boy's face. The first potions class of the year, and he was stuck working with an idiot!
Muttering curses, the Malfoy heir watched as clumsy Longbottom made his way over to the cauldron they would be working at. He instinctively knew that every Gryffindor was secretly laughing at him, feeling that it was what he deserved. They didn't know anything, the stupid gits. Wrapped up with their golden boy, Potter, they would would never know the true Draco Malfoy. No one would.
Longbottom bumped into him as he dropped his books on the table. "S- sorry." The idiot mumbled, a frightened look in his eyes.
"Understand one thing, Longbottom. The only thing you will do is read off the list of ingredients so that I will not fail this assignment. Is that clear?"
The chubby boy nodded, actually looking relieved. Reading off the ingredients should be easy, shouldn't it? He always managed to screw everything up, but this was something he could do correctly. Right? Eep...he prayed to the fates that he didn't mess this up. Malfoy would have his head if he screwed it up!
Unknown to the forgetful Gryffindor, Draco could read every expression on his face. When he saw the fear on the other boys face, he inwardly felt a pang of pity. 'Damn it, Malfoy. You are not going to feel sorry for the git. Is that understood?'
Angry at himself for feeling sympathy for the moron, Draco glared and caused the blood to rush from Neville's face. 'Good, that's more like it.'
But Draco knew he was in for a long Potions lesson. He cursed the fates for his luck, knowing they didn't hear them. And even if they did, they wouldn't care. He was an evil Malfoy, and Malfoy's didn't inspire good feelings from anyone.
Thirty minutes later, the two of them were finished. Silently sighing in relief, Draco leaned against the table and waited for Professor Snape to come and check their potion. But any relief he'd felt instantly disappeared at the disapproving look on Snape's face.
"Malfoy, Longbottom, this potion is wrong. It is supposed to be a bright green, not a light purple."
At this comment, everyone in the class stopped working and watched the three of them. Malfoy felt anger stirring inside himself, how the hell did he and Longbottom screw up? He'd done exactly as the git had said! That idiot must've read one of the ingredients wrong. Bloody hell!
"Malfoy, I thought better of you. Even with Longbottom as your partner, you should've gotten the potion correct. For this mistake, you will drink the potion."
Draco nearly gasped out loud, his eyes widening just the slightest. "What, sir?!"
"You heard me, Malfoy. Drink the potion," Snape ordered him, a narrowed look in his eyes.
Snape was his godfather, he certainly wouldn't make him drink a potion that was harmful to him. Right?
Draco grabbed a cup and poured the potion into it. He hesitated only a second before downing the potion in one gulp. To his surprise, it didn't taste bitter like he'd thought it would. It tasted spicy and full, and spread heat through his entire body.
"What was it?" Neville asked managing to get over his fear of Snape for the moment when he saw Malfoy's cheeks flush.
"A simple warmth potion, used to treat cases of hypothermia," the professor replied, actually a bit surprised that the chubby boy had asked him a question.
Draco felt relief at this. A simple warmth potion? He could handle being extra-warm for a few hours. As long as it wasn't anything serious...
~-~-~-~-~-
The next day, Draco woke up feeling sluggish and exceptionally warm. He frowned, puzzled. Warmth potions were supposed to wear off within a few hours. And he'd taken the potion well over eighteen hours ago.
Putting it aside as only his imagination, he got dressed and walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Sitting down at his usual spot, he began eating almost immediately. Strangely, he was more hungry than usual and ate twice as much as he usually did.
Ignoring his fellow Slytherins, he quietly finished his meal. For some reason, he wasn't in the mood to spend energy on pointless conversation. Especially any snide remarks or sarcastic wit.
Just as he was about to stand up and leave, he noticed someone that made him freeze and stare at the Gryffindor table. Harry Potter was just sitting with his friends, talking, but there was something about him...something different...something alluring.
'What the hell?! Get ahold of yourself! There is absolutely nothing alluring about that four-eyed freak,' he mentally yelled at himself, panicked at the direction his thoughts were going.
But it didn't help. He stared at The Boy Who Lived and couldn't take his eyes off him. Those green eyes were so captivating. And the way his messy brown hair fell into his face, why that was just endearing. Oh, and the way his lips looked as they curved in a smile...so soft and kissable.
Wait a bloody danged minute! Kissable? Ick! Draco practically gagged, his eyes going wide. What was going on with him? Why was he having such awful, disgusting thoughts about his nemesis?
Feeling angry and panicked, he jumped up and strode from the Great Hall to pace in front of his first class, Transfiguration. Damn it! What was happening to him? He couldn't possibly be having these kind of thoughts about Potter. It was wrong! It was unnatural! Oh no, it was unnatural how soft Potter's skin looked...
'Stop it! Stop it, I tell you!' he screamed at himself, smacking a hand against his forehead.
"Something wrong, Mr. Malfoy?" a stern, but kind voice asked.
Draco gulped, turning to face Professor McGonagall. "Um...no! Nothing's wrong!" He knew his voice sounded anything but calm, but couldn't help it. Something was horribly wrong with him!
She didn't look as if she believed him, but he was saved from any nosy questions as students started coming down the hall to enter the classroom. He sighed in relief, knowing it was only by pure luck that he was saved. That McGonagall could tell if you were lying without any spell to help her, and God help you if she wanted information from you. It was like keeping a mouse from the cheese!
The class passed uneventfully, for the most part. Draco's only problem was that this was the only other class with Gryffindors, and that meant that Potter was in the room. Gorgeous Potter, sitting only eight feet away from him. The warmth in Draco increased, seeming to cause his body to thrum with excitement. Bloody hell!
The blond-haired Slytherin breathed a sigh of relief as class ended. Quickly gathering up his book, he left the room. But alas, luck was not with him. Just as he tried to pass through the doorway, he bumped into someone, knocking them both to the ground.
"Watch what you're blo-" he started to snap before he saw who it was he'd crashed into. It was none other than his enemy, Potter.
He lay there for a second before realizing how stupid he looked on top of Potter, one of his hands on the brown-haired boy's chest. With widened eyes, he scrambled up and raced down the hallway as if hell were on his heels.
That left a very confused Harry Potter. He just lay on the ground where he'd fallen, feeling shell-shocked. As soon as Draco had touched him, he'd felt a heat race through his body. It flowed through him, heating up places he'd rather of been left cooled. Yes, he knew he was gay. But this didn't mean he could have a reaction to Malfoy! And this felt somehow different than normal attraction...it felt somehow stronger and there was something else. Some kind of pull that wasn't just physical.
"Bloody hell, you okay?" Ron's voice knocked him out of his troubling thoughts, and he nodded.
His best friend offered him a hand up, muttering the whole while about clumsy ferrets. Harry knew he was talking about Draco, and felt a stirring of anger at the blond being called a ferret...wait a minute! Angry at Malfoy being called names?
Harry quickly looked around for signs that the world was ending. Only the apocolypse could cause thoughts like this towards Malfoy! But no, the world wasn't ending. And hell wasn't freezing over. So what was happening? This was really weird, not to mention a little panic-worthy.
"Hey, are you really all right?" Hermione asked him, looking concerned.
Blinking away the stupid thoughts racing through his mind, Harry nodded. He hoped he wasn't lying, because that would be bad. Very, very bad...
Draco is forced to make a potion with Neville Longbottom and of course it gets screwed up. Although no one knows it, the potion they thought was a simple warmth potion ends up becoming Draco's worst nightmare. Or will it become his biggest miracle? (SLASH, MPREG) Be warned, this is a HARRYxDRACO fic.
Author's Note: I will try to stick to each character's personality as much as possible, but forgive me if anyone seems a bit OOC at times. Thanks! Oh yeah, and no flames please!
Diclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and neither am I making money for writing this pathetic attempt of a fanfic.
~-~-~-~-~-
-~WORST NIGHTMARE...OR BIGGEST MIRACLE?~-
~Chapter One: Only A Simple Warmth Potion?~
"Malfoy, you'll be working with Longbottom today," Snape told the blond-haired Slytherin. Draco didn't know how much those seven words would completely disrupt his life.
"But Prof-" he protested, outrage evident in his voice.
Professor Snape stopped the teenager before the protest was even fully formed. "Shut it, Malfoy. Or would you like ten points deducted from Slytherin?"
That effectively quieted Draco, although a scowl was evident on the blue-eyed boy's face. The first potions class of the year, and he was stuck working with an idiot!
Muttering curses, the Malfoy heir watched as clumsy Longbottom made his way over to the cauldron they would be working at. He instinctively knew that every Gryffindor was secretly laughing at him, feeling that it was what he deserved. They didn't know anything, the stupid gits. Wrapped up with their golden boy, Potter, they would would never know the true Draco Malfoy. No one would.
Longbottom bumped into him as he dropped his books on the table. "S- sorry." The idiot mumbled, a frightened look in his eyes.
"Understand one thing, Longbottom. The only thing you will do is read off the list of ingredients so that I will not fail this assignment. Is that clear?"
The chubby boy nodded, actually looking relieved. Reading off the ingredients should be easy, shouldn't it? He always managed to screw everything up, but this was something he could do correctly. Right? Eep...he prayed to the fates that he didn't mess this up. Malfoy would have his head if he screwed it up!
Unknown to the forgetful Gryffindor, Draco could read every expression on his face. When he saw the fear on the other boys face, he inwardly felt a pang of pity. 'Damn it, Malfoy. You are not going to feel sorry for the git. Is that understood?'
Angry at himself for feeling sympathy for the moron, Draco glared and caused the blood to rush from Neville's face. 'Good, that's more like it.'
But Draco knew he was in for a long Potions lesson. He cursed the fates for his luck, knowing they didn't hear them. And even if they did, they wouldn't care. He was an evil Malfoy, and Malfoy's didn't inspire good feelings from anyone.
Thirty minutes later, the two of them were finished. Silently sighing in relief, Draco leaned against the table and waited for Professor Snape to come and check their potion. But any relief he'd felt instantly disappeared at the disapproving look on Snape's face.
"Malfoy, Longbottom, this potion is wrong. It is supposed to be a bright green, not a light purple."
At this comment, everyone in the class stopped working and watched the three of them. Malfoy felt anger stirring inside himself, how the hell did he and Longbottom screw up? He'd done exactly as the git had said! That idiot must've read one of the ingredients wrong. Bloody hell!
"Malfoy, I thought better of you. Even with Longbottom as your partner, you should've gotten the potion correct. For this mistake, you will drink the potion."
Draco nearly gasped out loud, his eyes widening just the slightest. "What, sir?!"
"You heard me, Malfoy. Drink the potion," Snape ordered him, a narrowed look in his eyes.
Snape was his godfather, he certainly wouldn't make him drink a potion that was harmful to him. Right?
Draco grabbed a cup and poured the potion into it. He hesitated only a second before downing the potion in one gulp. To his surprise, it didn't taste bitter like he'd thought it would. It tasted spicy and full, and spread heat through his entire body.
"What was it?" Neville asked managing to get over his fear of Snape for the moment when he saw Malfoy's cheeks flush.
"A simple warmth potion, used to treat cases of hypothermia," the professor replied, actually a bit surprised that the chubby boy had asked him a question.
Draco felt relief at this. A simple warmth potion? He could handle being extra-warm for a few hours. As long as it wasn't anything serious...
~-~-~-~-~-
The next day, Draco woke up feeling sluggish and exceptionally warm. He frowned, puzzled. Warmth potions were supposed to wear off within a few hours. And he'd taken the potion well over eighteen hours ago.
Putting it aside as only his imagination, he got dressed and walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Sitting down at his usual spot, he began eating almost immediately. Strangely, he was more hungry than usual and ate twice as much as he usually did.
Ignoring his fellow Slytherins, he quietly finished his meal. For some reason, he wasn't in the mood to spend energy on pointless conversation. Especially any snide remarks or sarcastic wit.
Just as he was about to stand up and leave, he noticed someone that made him freeze and stare at the Gryffindor table. Harry Potter was just sitting with his friends, talking, but there was something about him...something different...something alluring.
'What the hell?! Get ahold of yourself! There is absolutely nothing alluring about that four-eyed freak,' he mentally yelled at himself, panicked at the direction his thoughts were going.
But it didn't help. He stared at The Boy Who Lived and couldn't take his eyes off him. Those green eyes were so captivating. And the way his messy brown hair fell into his face, why that was just endearing. Oh, and the way his lips looked as they curved in a smile...so soft and kissable.
Wait a bloody danged minute! Kissable? Ick! Draco practically gagged, his eyes going wide. What was going on with him? Why was he having such awful, disgusting thoughts about his nemesis?
Feeling angry and panicked, he jumped up and strode from the Great Hall to pace in front of his first class, Transfiguration. Damn it! What was happening to him? He couldn't possibly be having these kind of thoughts about Potter. It was wrong! It was unnatural! Oh no, it was unnatural how soft Potter's skin looked...
'Stop it! Stop it, I tell you!' he screamed at himself, smacking a hand against his forehead.
"Something wrong, Mr. Malfoy?" a stern, but kind voice asked.
Draco gulped, turning to face Professor McGonagall. "Um...no! Nothing's wrong!" He knew his voice sounded anything but calm, but couldn't help it. Something was horribly wrong with him!
She didn't look as if she believed him, but he was saved from any nosy questions as students started coming down the hall to enter the classroom. He sighed in relief, knowing it was only by pure luck that he was saved. That McGonagall could tell if you were lying without any spell to help her, and God help you if she wanted information from you. It was like keeping a mouse from the cheese!
The class passed uneventfully, for the most part. Draco's only problem was that this was the only other class with Gryffindors, and that meant that Potter was in the room. Gorgeous Potter, sitting only eight feet away from him. The warmth in Draco increased, seeming to cause his body to thrum with excitement. Bloody hell!
The blond-haired Slytherin breathed a sigh of relief as class ended. Quickly gathering up his book, he left the room. But alas, luck was not with him. Just as he tried to pass through the doorway, he bumped into someone, knocking them both to the ground.
"Watch what you're blo-" he started to snap before he saw who it was he'd crashed into. It was none other than his enemy, Potter.
He lay there for a second before realizing how stupid he looked on top of Potter, one of his hands on the brown-haired boy's chest. With widened eyes, he scrambled up and raced down the hallway as if hell were on his heels.
That left a very confused Harry Potter. He just lay on the ground where he'd fallen, feeling shell-shocked. As soon as Draco had touched him, he'd felt a heat race through his body. It flowed through him, heating up places he'd rather of been left cooled. Yes, he knew he was gay. But this didn't mean he could have a reaction to Malfoy! And this felt somehow different than normal attraction...it felt somehow stronger and there was something else. Some kind of pull that wasn't just physical.
"Bloody hell, you okay?" Ron's voice knocked him out of his troubling thoughts, and he nodded.
His best friend offered him a hand up, muttering the whole while about clumsy ferrets. Harry knew he was talking about Draco, and felt a stirring of anger at the blond being called a ferret...wait a minute! Angry at Malfoy being called names?
Harry quickly looked around for signs that the world was ending. Only the apocolypse could cause thoughts like this towards Malfoy! But no, the world wasn't ending. And hell wasn't freezing over. So what was happening? This was really weird, not to mention a little panic-worthy.
"Hey, are you really all right?" Hermione asked him, looking concerned.
Blinking away the stupid thoughts racing through his mind, Harry nodded. He hoped he wasn't lying, because that would be bad. Very, very bad...