Draco wasn't sure whose hand he was holding, but he was glad the hand was there. Someone had thrown that stupid Peruvian dark powder in the middle of potion class. At first Draco had been mostly annoyed about how this would ruin his potion, which he had been about to stir in just the correct way and had gotten around half way with, now to have forgotten how far he got. The shock of the sudden darkness had clouded his mind and if he had been any less strong, than he was, he would have probably screamed like some girl seeing a huge spider, wait that was the Weasel. Draco could almost snort at the thought now, though the nagging fear in the back of his head of what could happen in the darkness hadn't loosened its grip on him.

He tightened his hold on the hand in his. He was pretty sure the hand didn't belong to Pansy. She was the only one who knew of his fear and therefor it would have been logically to conclude that the saving hand was hers. The skin was way too rough to be hers though. She took pride in having hands as soft as a baby's butt. Not that Draco had a clue how a baby's butt felt, but that was something Pansy had picked up from some Gryffindor, probably a mudblood. Draco did snort at this and squinted his eyes. Who the hell would throw such a huge amount of the stupid powder in the middle of class anyways? He chuckled. It was probably Longbottom. That fool wasn't any better off in potion with Slughorn, than he had been with Professor Snape. Draco felt the hand squeeze his and he tried to see their connected hands in the dark. It was no use. That stupid powder did its job well.

He shrugged. Who could the hand belong too? Perhaps a brave admire? He shifted the thought around in his head, shaking it off. No way. A Gryffindor admiring him was as possible as the giant squid having an affair with the big loaf of a gamekeeper. Now Draco thought about it, that was actually pretty possible. He huffed. Certainly more possible than the hand belonging to a Gryffindor. The thing was, if the hand belonged to a Slytherin, Pansy would ages ago have found out who was into him. That was just the kind of person she was. He sighed, which again narrowed it down to her. But it couldn't be her. The unknown hand was starting to annoy him, even though it was nice to have it in the dark. He sighed and rubbed his chin with his free hand. When the powders effect disappeared, he would know. Draco was now able to actually see the tip of his own nose, so it was clearing up, finally.

He hadn't even noticed the voices around him before. The darkness had pushed him into his own private place, only the hand had managed to break into. Now when he knew the darkness was disappearing, he could focus on reality. Slughorn was trying to calm everyone, by telling them it'd clear up soon. What a great comfort. He huffed. People where whispering to each other, about what he didn't really know or care for. He tightened his hand on the hand in his, he wouldn't let the owner of said hand slip through his fingers just before his vision was clear. He stared in the direction the hand's owner had to be, waiting for the darkness to clear enough for him to see the other persons face. By now he had come to terms with the fact that it had to be a boy's hand. The hand wasn't the biggest one he had come around, but the roughness of the skin spoke for a male. What mostly spoke for a male, was the little voice in the back of his head telling him that this person, whoever they were, were a possible candidate for Draco's heart. Which was ridiculous, because in the end he wouldn't follow his heart, but probably marry a pureblood woman, much like Pansy.

As the darkness cleared out the hand started tugging in his, obviously trying to escape.

"Oh no, you're staying here"

Draco muttered under his breath, only tightening his hold further on the hand in his. Draco almost let out a very unmanly squeak when the tug got harder and he almost stumbled into the other person.

"Yah relax!"

He snorted at the hand's owner, tugging back harshly. He could feel the hand growing sweaty, as the darkness cleared further. Now Draco could actually see the hand in his. The skin stood in stark contrast to his own pale skin. It wasn't exactly dark, but it was slightly tan or maybe that was just compared to Draco's paleness. His hand seemed to fit rather well into the other boy's hand. By now it was obvious that the hand belonged to a male. Draco could soon move his gaze over the other boy's wrist. Sadly the Hogwarts robes had no color on the sleeves, else Draco could have determinate his house by now. The hand's tugging got more violent, making Draco rather annoyed.

"Don't want me to know who you are, do you?"

Like the hand was trying to respond, the tugging worsened.

"For fucks sake, relax"
Draco was getting more and more annoyed at the others behavior. His grip on the others hand was by now so tight he wouldn't be surprised if whoever's hand he was holding would have bruises tomorrow. Draco didn't know why he wanted so desperately to know who the hand belonged to. He just knew he had to find out. The hand seemed to sense his annoyance and the tugging stopped. Draco blinked as he watched their fingers intertwin. The hand's owner had some nerve to hold his hand like that. Draco snorted.

"Fucking Gryffindor"

He chuckled. No Slytherin in their right mind would openly intertwin their fingers in a romantic gesture like this, it had to be a Gryffindor. By the sudden stiffness of the hand, Draco's assumptions seemed to be correct. Draco raised an eyebrow as more and more arm appeared. He held his breath, soon the culprits face would be visible. Any minute now. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the familiar face so close up. His jaw dropped.

"You!"

The other male chuckled, nodding.

"Me indeed"

He muttered, like it was supposed to be funny. Draco didn't know what to say. He squinted his eyes at the other male, before realizing he was still holding his hand in a tight grip, throwing the hand away. Draco made a face.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
He had the nerve to laugh. Draco was sure the other had a death wish. He clenched his fist at his side. Of all the people, he had expected to be the other hand's owner this was the last one. Draco sent a glare the other male's way, first then noticing the rest of the class eyes on them.

"Mate, why are you and the ferret standing so close."

The Weasel. Of course he had to interfere, when his best friend, the incredible stupid savior with way too messy dark hair and ugly nerdy glasses, was involved. Draco moved backwards, still glaring at Potter. Fucking Potter of all people had held his hand and helped him through the darkness. He couldn't believe it. He turned to his potion, groaning in annoyance.

"When I catch whoever threw that powder I am going to kill him. My potion is fucking ruined."