Important note: I know we're not allowed to put song lyrics on here, but may I suggest you check out the lyrics to Aqualung's Strange and Beautiful – that's what this is based on.
Disclaimer: don't own the characters. The plot came to me when I was listening to the above-mentioned song.
Enjoy! - Mac
PrologueDraco Malfoy was not who most people thought he was. In fact, not a single person knew who Draco really was. Except himself, of course.
Like most people, Draco had a secret. But unlike most people, his secret would get him killed if the wrong people found out. If his parents, or Voldemort, or any of the Death Eaters or Death-Eater-alligned Slytherins found out about his secret, he would most definitely be murdered within 24 hours.
His secret wasn't even particularly extraordinary. At least Draco didn't think of it as an extraordinary secret, as he had lived with it since his fourth year. Almost three years, it had been, and he had not told a soul.
Draco Malfoy was in love with Harry Potter.
He had been in love with the one person he was supposed to hate above all others since his fourth year. When he had seen Harry step out into the dragon enclosure during the Triwizard Tournament, and when he had felt that unpleasant tightening of his chest, and the nervous squirming of his stomach, he had known. It had taken him about a year to accept it, but he had, finally.
And once he had accepted it, there was the not-so-simple matter of his family ties. Obviously, there was no way he could serve Voldemort when he was in love with Harry, but it was not going to be easy to defy his family. Draco had decided, for the rest of his schooling, to continue pretending to hate Harry – he knew his father would not force him to take the Mark before he finished his final year at Hogwarts. However, at the end of his fifth year, when his father was placed in Azkaban, Voldemort himself had decided to take matters into his own hands. Draco had been Marked, and ordered to kill Dumbledore or watch his parents being murdered.
At first, Draco had made only half-hearted attempts that he knew would not harm the old Headmaster. But when Voldemort had raped his mother in front of him, Draco tried harder, thinking only of the pain he would save his mother if he succeeded.
Finding himself facing the unarmed and weak Headmaster, though, Draco found he did not have it in him to murder Dumbledore. Partly because Draco had a lot of respect and even a grudging affection for the old man, and partly because he knew that he was like family to Harry.
After Snape had killed Dumbledore the two of them had fled to Spinner's End, where Snape had summoned some of Draco's things from Hogwarts, and where Draco had written a letter to Professor McGonagall.
Dear Professor McGonagall, (he wrote)
I am writing to inform you of the circumstances regarding the death of Professor Dumbledore.
I am currently with Professor Snape, who has just finished telling me that Professor Dumbledore was under the influence of a fast-acting poison with no antidote. In order to keep his position as a spy, and in order to end Professor Dumbledore's suffering, he cast the killing curse. No doubt Professor Snape will inform you of this himself and I am sure he will agree to take veritaserum and swear it. I am likewise willing to swear under veritaserum that I have no loyalty to Voldemort and I take the opportunity now to express my interest in helping the order of the Phoenix.
Please don't hesitate to contact me and inform me of anything I can do to help.
Sincerely, with my apologies,
Draco Malfoy.
Harry, of course, did not know that Draco was on his side. Professor McGonagall had not thought it necessary to inform him, nor had she thought it would make the slightest difference to their feelings towards each other. Draco knew that Harry wouldn't be told, and, despite his better judgement, resolved to tell him himself. After all, it was their final year, and if he ever had a chance at winning the Golden Boy's heart, it would only happen if he told Harry.
Of course he would need to pretend nothing had changed, at first. Professor McGonagall had agreed that due to the likelihood of Voldemort finding out about his 'betrayal' (Draco hardly thought that was an appropriate word as he was never 'loyal' in the first place), Draco would stay at Hogwarts for all the holidays during the year and that he would reside at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix once the school year was finished. Consequently Draco and Snape had collected most of his possessions from the manor before returning to Hogwarts for Draco's final year.
Part One: I'll Put a Spell on YouThe first Gryffindor versus Slytherin match of their final year at Hogwarts was upon them. Draco entered the Great Hall in his usual strut, being sure to pass the Gryffindor table on the side that Harry was seated on, as he always did.
"Potter!" Stormy grey eyes raked over the form of Harry Potter as he hunched over his breakfast.
"I hope you don't expect to win today, Potter," Draco Malfoy drawled as he sauntered past the Gryffindor table in his Slytherin quidditch robes.
Harry snorted. "I hope you don't expect to see the snitch before I catch it from under your nose, Malfoy." Emerald green eyes gazed, unshielded, into grey and for the briefest of moments, an inexplicable connection passed between the two rivals.
Draco's eyes widened momentarily as he saw into the depths of Harry Potter's soul. Then, realising what had happened, both boys recovered themselves. Harry scowled and turned back to his breakfast. Draco glared contemptuously at Harry and stalked off to the Slytherin table.
"Draco," Pansy Parkinson simpered, "eat some more bacon. You'll need your strength today."
"Pansy. Shove off. I don't know how many times I have to tell you to leave me alone." Draco snapped, unwilling to concentrate on anything but the strange connection that he had just felt with Harry Potter. His stomach twisted unpleasantly and his heart beat faster as he analysed the event over and over again, striving to find some hidden clue that would tell him that he had a chance.
Draco mechanically shovelled food into his mouth, barely noticing what he was eating, as he gazed at Harry thoughtfully.
Draco's eyes widened for a second time as he realised what Harry had shown him (unwillingly) in his unprotected gaze. Desire. Harry Potter was attracted to Draco Malfoy. Grinning crazily, Draco attempted to still his heart by gulping at his water. Unfortunately, this only served to make him choke.
Blaise Zabini thumped him on the back.
"Thanks," Draco spluttered, blushing as he realised Harry had noticed and was looking at him strangely. Unable to resist, Draco gave a small wink and was pleased to see some pinkness on Harry's cheeks as he frowned and turned back to his own breakfast.
"Captains, shake hands," Madam Hooch said only half an hour after the 'incident', as Draco was referring to it as.
Draco looked into Harry's eyes as they shook hands, and relished the feeling of the slightly calloused palm in his. He allowed a small, but genuine, smile to grace his features, but frowned when he merely received a guarded nod in return. So Harry wanted to play like that. Right, then.
Draco had not picked a single fight with Harry since the previous year, but they still enjoyed the regular verbal jibes at each other. It was what kept Draco going. Still, if Harry was attracted to Draco and wasn't prepared to show it, Draco would just have to make him. A half-formed plan started to form in his mind as the match began. But first he needed to be near Harry when he was sleeping. That would be difficult.
Dimly, Draco was aware of releasing Harry's hand and mounting his broom; he heard the whistle blow and kicked off from the ground, attempting, and failing, to reconnect his brain to the quidditch match and his body's actions. As it was, he was quite preoccupied with gazing at Harry, and, as a result, began to tail him.
"Get out of it, Malfoy!" Harry yelled when he noticed Draco following him.
Draco opened his mouth to retort, couldn't think of anything to say, closed his mouth, and settled for shaking his head numbly. Harry frowned and zoomed off. Draco accelerated to match.
"Malfoy! Leave me the fuck alone!" Harry shouted furiously.
Draco grinned; he was well-acquainted with Harry's short temper.
The match had been in play for only five minutes or so, when Draco suddenly noticed Harry pull a frown of concentration and launch into a full-speed dive. Thinking he was faking it, Draco merely grinned and hovered around for a full thirty seconds before he realised with a jolt of horror that the snitch really was glinting forty feet below him. And Harry was halfway there already. Furious with himself, he flung his body flat against his broom and urged it downwards, but it was no use: his Nimbus 2001 was no match for Harry's Firebolt. Harry's fingers closed around the snitch, and Draco pulled upwards sharply, coming out of his dive ten feet above Harry as cheers erupted from the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stands.
As Draco glanced around the pitch, he noticed one of the Slytherin beaters whack a bludger directly at Harry's head. Madam Hooch was wrestling the other bludger into the box and hadn't noticed. Harry, who was gleefully waving his closed fist around and pumping it into the air, had no idea what was coming.
"Harry! Watch out!" A voice shouted, and Harry looked up, gazing confusedly at Draco for a moment before the bludger got him right in the head. He fell the five feet to the ground, and his Gryffindor teammates converged on him worriedly.
Meanwhile, Draco's teammates were looking at him with mixed expressions of anger, surprise and shock. The anger, Draco could understand – he stupidly didn't see the snitch until half a minute after Harry. But what was so surprising or shocking about him losing to the Gryffindor seeker? It happened all the time.
"What the hell was that, Malfoy?" The beater who had hit the bludger at Harry was glaring at Draco.
"What? What are you talking about?" Draco snapped, trying to see through the wall of crimson robes to Harry.
"'Harry, watch out!' Why were you trying to warn him? What, are you in love with him or something?" Montague, a chaser, said jokingly.
"Absolutely not," Draco said brusquely, turning to glare at Montague. "But I don't want to see anything like that again. If you don't follow the rules, we get punished. You're all dismissed," he added to the team at large.
Draco had a very long shower, to collect his thoughts, but somehow he emerged more confused than he was when he had gone in. His mind was a whirl of Harry's confused glances, enraged shouts, soulful gazes and then Montague's comment.
Impossible, Draco thought, a full two hours after the match as he made his way up from the kitchens where he had had a post-match snack. Impossible. They can't know, it was just a joke. I haven't given anything away, so there's just no way they could – oh shit. Draco's feet had carried him to the hospital wing rather than the dungeons, where he had intended to go.
Pressing an ear to the door, Draco could not hear any voices and figured it was safe enough to go in. He pushed the door open, and gripped his broom very tightly as he entered. Glancing around nervously, he saw Harry in a bed by the far wall and cautiously made his way over to it. Sinking into a chair, he tried to remove his gaze from Harry's face, but he found it impossible. Madam Pomfrey had obviously healed the bruise; Harry's face was as flawless as ever. Draco assumed that Harry was yet to wake, as there was a large collection of potions on his bedside table. He recognised many of them as standard post-bludger remedies, having taken them a few times himself.
Staring at Harry, Draco found himself wondering why Harry insisted on keeping up the rivalry when Draco was sure (from what he had seen in Harry's eyes) that he wanted to be friendly – or possibly even more than friendly.
Tearing his eyes away from Harry's face, Draco allowed his eyes to roam over the perfect body before him. He wasn't perving; he was just making sure there was no extensive damage – at least that's what he told himself. As his gaze passed Harry's waist, he saw a glint of gold from inside Harry's closed fist. Grinning, he realised that no one had bothered to get the snitch back from Harry. He reached over, and, ignoring the burning sensation and the jolt in his stomach he felt as his fingers touched Harry's skin, he prised the snitch from Harry's grasp.
Draco barely had time to look at it before shoving the snitch into his pocket as Madam Pomfrey came bustling into the room. Apparently it was time for Harry to wake up.
She ignored Draco completely, and pulled out her wand. "Ennervate," she said, pointing her wand at Harry's chest.
Harry took a few moments to realise where he was; Draco watched in amusement as Harry blinked stupidly, looking confused. When realisation dawned, he looked at Madam Pomfrey sharply, having failed to notice Draco's presence.
"What happened?" He asked.
"You took a bludger to the head and fell a few feet," Madam Pomfrey said in a disapproving voice. She handed him a potion. "Drink this."
"No, I mean the match. What happened?"
"How am I supposed to know?" Madam Pomfrey admonished him. "And you can drink the rest of those on the table once you're done with that one." She walked briskly from the room, apparently with more important things to do than discuss quidditch. Harry frowned after her.
"So where are my visitors?" he grumbled to himself, downing the first potion and reaching for a second.
Draco smirked. "Right here. I would ask you if you're blind but I already know that that's the case."
Harry's head whipped around and he frowned at Draco. "Malfoy? What are you doing here?" he asked, turning away from Malfoy temporarily to drink his second potion. After all, Madam Pomfrey was in the next room, Malfoy couldn't try anything here.
"Poisoning your potions, what do you think?" Draco drawled sarcastically. Unfortunately, Harry didn't quite catch the sarcasm. He spat out the potion immediately, looking completely horrified.
"Relax, it was a joke," Draco said before Harry could speak. "I'm visiting. What else?"
"Ok. So you've visited me, for some unknown reason. You may go now." Harry said, feeling too confused to be hostile.
"I also brought you a present."
"Ah. A cursed necklace or something equally as charming?" Harry asked rudely.
"Don't be stupid, Harry. Why would I want to kill you?"
Harry was completely speechless. He stared, open-mouthed at Draco.
"What?" Draco snapped, feeling as though he might have been better off not visiting after all. However, he still had to put his plan into action. And for that, he needed to stay until Harry was asleep. But, if Harry wanted Draco to leave, he would.
"You – you called me Harry."
"And?"
"And you said you don't want to kill me. I don't understand."
"So it's true. You really are as thick as you're made out to be. If you haven't noticed by now, you'll never realise."
"Realise what?"
"I'm not telling you if you haven't worked it out for yourself."
"Fine. Where's my present?"
"What?" Draco asked, surprised at the sudden change of subject.
"You said you brought me a present."
"Right. It's-" Draco pulled the struggling snitch out of his pocket, stopping his explanation abruptly as he realised it was unnecessary.
"Thanks, Malfoy, that's just what I need!" Harry exclaimed sarcastically. "A reminder that you beat me for once in your pathetic life. How lovely."
Draco clamped down on the anger he felt by reminding himself that Harry was only acting the way he was because he thought Draco hated him. Somehow, he managed to answer in a tone completely void of emotion.
"No, I didn't win. You did. You were still holding the snitch when they brought you here unconscious, so I got it from your fist before Madam Pomfrey found it and returned it. I thought you might like to keep it. As a reminder that you beat me. Again."
"Er," Harry said, "well, that's nice, I-"
"Don't thank me," Draco said with a small smile.
"Ok," Harry agreed, taking the snitch from Malfoy and putting it into his own pocket after looking at it fondly for a moment. That done, he turned back to Draco.
"Why are you here?" he asked bluntly.
"Like I said before, if you haven't noticed, I'm not going to enlighten you."
"I'm officially insane. Draco Malfoy is visiting me in hospital, giving me presents and smiling at me, and talking cryptically."
Draco laughed.
"No, wait. You're the insane one. You're the one acting out of the ordinary."
"That's true," Draco said, not bothering to hold back a grin. "You should finish your potions," he advised, indicating the bedside table.
"You're right," Harry agreed, picking up a blue bottle.
"Leave that one til last, it's a dreamless sleep potion."
"You get many bludgers to the head?" Harry joked, replacing the bottle on the bedside table and picking up another.
"No. Only a few. Just… nightmares, mostly."
If Harry was surprised at this admission, he didn't show it. He just nodded and then proceeded to down the rest of his potions in silence. When he reached for the dreamless sleep potion, he hesitated.
"It's ok. Drink it, and I'll leave when you're asleep."
"Why-?"
"I told you, I'm not telling," Draco interrupted.
"Well I'm not taking this potion until you tell me why you no longer want to kill me," Harry said stubbornly.
"You idiot," Draco sighed, "I've never wanted to kill you."
"Could have fooled me."
"Yes, well, that was the idea."
"What?"
"If you knew I didn't want to kill you, the whole school would also know. And that would most certainly blow my cover."
"Malfoy, what the hell are you talking about?" Harry asked, unable and unwilling to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
"I'm on your side, you moron."
"You know, I don't appreciate name calling- wait, you what!"
"I'm on your side. I want you to take Voldemort down. And I want to help you do it."
"Um… okay," Harry said, clearly unsure as to how he should be reacting.
"Let's talk about this later, ok? You need to sleep now," Draco said, indicating the potion.
"Fine. G'night," Harry said irritably, draining the potion in one gulp. His eyelids began to droop even as he was putting the bottle back on the bedside table; he didn't even manage to take his glasses off before he fell asleep, his arm dropping across his face, halfway to removing his glasses.
Draco took off Harry's glasses and placed them carefully on the bedside table, tenderly brushing a few strands of hair off Harry's face before reaching into his robe pocket and removing his wand. Glancing around to make sure he was alone (he wasn't entirely sure this spell was legal – it was a derivative of the Imperius curse, although Draco felt it was more of an anti Imperius), he pointed it at Harry, whispering "espriverita".
Although Draco had said he would leave once Harry was asleep, in order for the spell he just cast to be effective, he had to be around when Harry woke up, so he decided just to stay in the Hospital Wing. He pulled a chair right up to Harry's bed and reflected on his day.
I exchanged meaningful eye contact with Harry, realised he actually likes me, talked to him without real animosity, told him I'm on his side, and cast espriverita on him. So when he wakes up, he'll see me and he'll be unable to hide his true thoughts and feelings from me.
Part Two: Strange and BeautifulIt didn't take long for Draco to drift off; even the discomfort of the chair and his troubled thoughts couldn't keep him awake. Strangely, his sleep was void of the usual nightmares, and passed instead in a haze of nothingness. It seemed only moments after he had fallen asleep he was being awoken again, not by Madam Pomfrey, but by a determined thumping on his leg.
He opened bleary eyes and realised Harry was awake and persistently kicking him.
"Yes, I'm awake. You may stop kicking me now," he said pointedly, stifling a yawn.
Harry laughed. "You're strange," he said. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he looked very surprised at himself. "I'm not sure why I said that," he admitted.
"Well, it's quite possible that you find me mildly interesting. Otherwise, I doubt you would have said what you did," Draco said, putting on a patronizing glare.
"Just because you're beautiful it doesn't mean you can treat everyone else as if they are beneath you," Harry said, glaring at Draco.
Draco gaped at Harry. Beautiful?
Harry, however, didn't seem to notice what he had said. He merely looked around the room expectantly. "When's breakfast?" he asked, blushing as his stomach gave a particularly loud grumble.
"You have to go to the Great Hall to have breakfast, Pomfrey told me." Draco said, surprising himself with the ease with which the lie slid from his tongue.
"Liar," Harry said matter-of-factly, "she didn't even know you were here."
"Ah me," Draco sighed dramatically, "'tis sad to know that one's lies are not so easily believed by those more intelligent than one's usual companions."
Harry snorted. "So why did you say it?"
"I was under the impression that if you believed you had to go to the Great Hall you may not be opposed to my escorting you there."
"Oh? And why would you wish to 'escort' me anywhere?"
"I would like to spend time with you in a manner more appealing and productive than picking fights."
"Ah. The madness has set in, I see. And… why did you stay here last night?"
"Just wanted to be the first thing you saw when you woke up," Draco said honestly, not expecting Harry to realise the implications of the statement.
Unfortunately for Draco, Harry did.
"You cast espirivita on me!" He said accusingly.
"Indeed," Draco admitted.
"Why would you do that? What's it to you if I feel the need to hide certain aspects of myself from others? Looking for a way to cause me to breakdown, are you!"
"Thinking back to everything else I've said and done since breakfast yesterday, do you really believe that's the case?"
"No. So tell me why you did it. What's it to you?"
"I wouldn't dream of trying to expose your necessarily-hidden secrets to your friends or anyone else in the school, for that matter. I merely thought, or rather hoped, that there would be something you hid that would fulfil my wants."
"You are sounding a lot like Dumbledore today, you know," Harry said conversationally, apparently not bothered by the turn of events. "So what, pray tell, are your wants?"
"Right now, I want to escort you to breakfast in the Great Hall. I want to have a friendly, civil conversation with you on the way there, and I want to see the looks on everyone's faces when they see us walking in together, smiling and laughing."
Harry said nothing; his face was a mask of surprise. Draco knew that Harry would be trying to hide it, but the spell made that impossible.
"What do you want?" Draco asked.
"I… don't know," Harry confessed, and Draco could see the confusion in his eyes. But, behind the confusion, Draco realised with a painful tightening in his chest, there was a hint of desire.
Draco got off his chair and moved to Harry's bed, leaning over him so that their faces were inches apart. "What do you want right now?" he whispered, looking into Harry's eyes intently.
"I…want…" Harry breathed heavily, leaning up so that his lips met Draco's. Draco watched Harry's eyes flutter closed and then closed his own, giving into the sensation that overtook him. Harry's lips were suspiciously soft and smooth, and Draco wondered briefly if he used a moisture charm on them to keep them that way. Although in reality the kiss only lasted a few seconds (it was more of a chaste peck), Draco felt like an eternity had passed. Harry broke away and moved backwards, looking adorably frightened, somewhat like the proverbial 'hinkypunk caught in its own trap', Draco mused.
"I'm sorry, I-" Harry began, but Draco cut him off.
"I asked you what you wanted, and you answered me. And, because of the spell, it was obviously the truth so I'm not even going to bother asking you if you were trying to fuck with my mind."
"Draco, I'm sorry! I wouldn't have-" Harry tried again, looking rather agitated when Draco once again cut him off.
"Don't you want to ask me what I want?"
"What do you want?" Harry asked, rather breathlessly.
Draco closed in on Harry, hardly allowing their lips to meet before he let his tongue dart out and trace Harry's perfect lips. He applied a little pressure, causing Harry's lips to part and Draco's tongue entered Harry's mouth. Draco's hands found their way into Harry's hair and tangled there as he leaned more heavily on Harry, pushing him back onto the bed. After a few breathless minutes, Draco pulled away slightly and looked at Harry until his eyes opened.
"I want to do that again. And again. And then I want to do it tomorrow. And the day after that. With you, and only you."
Harry, to his credit, did not blush and look away modestly, but stared unflinchingly into Draco's eyes. Draco mentally recoiled at the sharpness he saw in Harry's gaze.
"And what about after the day after tomorrow?" He asked, with a surprisingly stern tone of voice.
"You, and only you," Draco answered honestly.
"Good. Me too," Harry said, leaning in for another kiss.