Disclaimer: That which you recognize is not mine, that which you do not recognize is mine. Sun Drops, for instance.

Author's Note: Aye, instead of working on my other story, I write this one. Feedback is about as awesome as it gets, so please. Review and let me know what you thought.

- - -

Just Looking

He really shouldn't have been doing it; his father would have been so angry.

Theodore Nott's shoulders were riddled with tension, rigid with the guilt and excitement that comes from doing something one has been told never to do. He was admiring another sixteen year-old, another boy, one Draco Malfoy.

Draco shifted and Theodore pulled back, ready to leap back into his bed at a moments notice. But Draco relaxed once more, his arm now flung across his pillow instead of tucked at his side. The fingers of his hand were almost the same white of the pillow.

Theodore could hold that hand. If he wanted. He told himself he definitely didn't want to. He was just looking.

Baby-fine strands of hair fell over Draco's brow, the platinum that Theodore remembered his mother always trying to achieve. Eyebrows that were usually arched in a scoff and a sneer were now smooth, leaving the pale owner looking relaxed and vulnerable. His mouth hung open ever so slightly, but Theodore didn't dwell on that too long. Who knew what could come of that.

He considered sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling the heat radiating from Draco, maybe touching the chest that rose and fell with quiet breaths.

No! he thought and shut his eyes, tightly, to battle away those thoughts, those musings he shouldn't be having. He opened his eyes, slowly, slowly. His right hand was wrapped firmly around the bedpost, his knuckles bone white from gripping it so hard. His other hand was clenched within the folds of his robes, twisting the material between his fingers hard enough that his hand cramped. Anything to keep him from touching the other boy.

"Draco," he whispered, just to test how it felt; how it felt to say it as though they were something, as though they had something intimate, a secret hush of desire, instead of daily conversation. Draco, pass the pumpkin juice. Though if that were all he could have, he would have to settle for that. He reminded himself that was all he could have. There were no possibilities here. He was just looking.

An alarm went off on one of the nightstands and Theodore flung himself away, ripping his bed hangings open and stumbling into his bed before Draco could awaken and find him, gaping like a little girl.

Theodore clutched his blankets to his chin, his chest heaving from adrenaline and panic, his breath hitching in his throat as he fought to keep quiet.

"Nott?" Draco mumbled, sounding entirely groggy. "S'at you thrashing all about?"

"The alarm startled me," he said back. "That's all."

- - -

There was an air of festivity that day. It was the day the students were allowed to go to Hogsmeade and Theodore Nott was going along with a group of boys from Slytherin, Draco included.

As they were walking through the snowy streets of Hogsmeade, heading for the sweet shop, Theodore related a joke to the other boys and they all laughed heartily, but Draco in particular took great pleasure, clutching his stomach and throwing his head back in a deep laugh, deeper since he'd gotten older. Theodore watched, his face flushed from the cold and the pleasure of being the one to have made Malfoy laugh, a full body laugh, the kind that takes over until no breath is left.

Theodore soon sobered, the sparkle in his eyes going dull as he thought of what his father would say if he only knew.

You foolish boy. Stupid, worthless. No longer my son. What have I raised you to be? His father was like that.

The small gaggle of boys burst into the cheery warmth of Honeyduke's, entering the bustle of the crowd. The whole inside was golden and warm, brightly coloured hard candy smiling down at everyone from its shelf. Little jars of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans were lined along the counter and students from the other Houses at Hogwarts exclaimed over other candies, laughing and joking and smiling as they selected their stash.

Draco followed Theodore to a small display of candies. There were only a few jars set on a small corner shelf, each filled with candies so dark they were almost black. But upon closer inspection one could see they were purple, and green, blue, red, rich colours, thick colours to savour.

"What are they?" Draco asked.

"Sun Drops," Theodore said. "See how dark they are? If you take them into the sun, they light up like gems, they light up like the sun. Your hair turns whatever color they are, too. But they're beautiful in the sun."

"Are you going to get them?" Draco asked, but before Theodore could respond, one of the women working behind the counters came over to them, her hands clasped in front of her.

"Can I help you boys? Would you like a jar of Sun Drops?"

Draco was watching the two of them carefully. When Theodore glanced at Draco, his eyes said yes but when he turned back to the woman, he said, "My father doesn't like me to buy candy with my money. I'm just looking."

"Well, they are a little expensive," the woman agreed gently. "Can I interest you in something else?"

Theodore shook his head and looked away.

- - -

Later, much later, hours later, Theodore was alone in an empty classroom, surrounded by a little sea of neatly lined up desks, each and every one of them empty, save for the one he sat in. Yellowed squares of late sunlight patterned the floor around him casting a sepia color over the room.

He was slumped, his knees touching the underside of the desk and his angular elbows resting on the edge of the wooden surface. His face was in his hands, his shoulders rigid, his teeth clamped on his tongue so he wouldn't cry out.

It was quiet, very quiet, and he took a slow, shuddering breath. He could control himself. A short, harsh sound erupted from his throat, a dry sob that hurt. He reached his arms across the desk and gripped the other edge tightly, as if holding on so he wouldn't lose control to the painful knot that was curled in his chest. Another sob, and another, louder, but no tears.

Tears mean weakness. I will not have a weak son. I will not have raised you to be weak!

He wanted to cry. He wanted desperately to cry, to feel that release, to ease the knot in his chest, to ease the pain of wanting everything he couldn't have.

There was a quiet snick behind Theodore and he lurched in his seat, turning.

"Found you," Draco said quietly, pulling a small bundle of cloth out from within his robes. "I was thinking, Nott. Come over here."

Theodore slowly stood up and walked toward Draco, his footsteps loud in the quiet. "What?" he asked, glad now that no tears stained his face.

"I was thinking that you shouldn't always do what your father says. For instance, Sun Drops," he said and began to slowly unravel the small bundle of cloth in his hands. "Your father says he doesn't want you to spend money on candy? Keep it a secret, and he'll never know, Theodore." The cloth fell away and Draco held the small jar up to the sunlight streaming through the windows and the room erupted into color, a rich hue of purple, deep, deep purple. It covered the walls and it covered the ceiling and the floor, it covered their faces and their bodies, the entire room a great wash of colour.

"A secret," Draco whispered.

"But I didn't buy the candies," Theodore pointed out, his breath coming in shallowly.

"That's doesn't matter. At some point, you're going to need to stop saying just looking and buy, Theodore."

"You didn't have to buy those, you really shouldn't have even… I really was just – just looking," Theodore said quietly, his eyes on the floor.

"Look at me," Draco said. Theodore looked up. "I'm not talking about the candy. I'm not talking about the candy at all. You know what I'm talking about." He lowered his voice, moving closer to Theodore, so close their faces were nearly touching. "Now don't just look."