Disclaimer: The wonderful J.K. Rowling owns everything Harry Potter. I own only this plot. So please don't sue, because the only thing I really own is the brain in my head. (:
A/N: Since my first Drarry (One Step Closer) was so well received, I've decided to write another. (: Anyway, I really enjoy the idea of this one because it seems so, I don't know, angsty. lol There will be smut and sap, though I haven't decided whether sado-masochism will play a role in this one. Anyhoo, enjoy!
A/N: As always, I LOVE reviews. So leave me a note. It'll make me happier. (:
Unexpected Views From Behind
OoO
I awoke to the sound of my alarm ringing rather loudly in my ear. I slammed my fist down on the stupid thing to shut it up. Yawning loudly, I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. Everyone else in my dorm was still asleep. I had to wake up early to prepare for today's match against the bloody Slytherins. I mean, for Christ's sake, you'd think the little buggers would just quit. But no, their damn captain makes them push and push, even when they obviously can't push any fucking harder.
Malfoy is such a shitty captain.
I pulled my robes on, grabbed my wand and the map, and left the Common Room. I was still only half-awake, so I kept stumbling. Flying should wake me fully, though. I sighed as I finally reached the Pitch, dew still fresh on the early-morning grass.
I summoned my broom and mounted. In less than five seconds, I was in the air and sailing. The wind blew against my face, sending my hair into a knotted frenzy. Not that it wasn't always like that, but still. The cold wind bit at my skin through my thin robes. The sensation sent chills to every part of my body, but somehow I managed.
Unfortunately, my serenity was short-lived.
Glancing down, I saw a blonde head bobbing up the Pitch toward the stands, broom in hand. Why wasn't he mounting? Why was he just watching? I'm nothing special to look at on a broom. I shook the thoughts from my mind and continued flying around for at least twenty more minutes, checking to make sure everything was in order. It was. I landed, and Malfoy started toward me.
Damn, couldn't I get just one bloody morning of peace?
"Saw you flying, Potter," he drawled, a smirk playing on that disgusting, pasty complexion of his. He looked me directly in the eye, as if challenging me. What exactly he was challenging me to remained unknown, but I sighed and continued walking.
"And?" I asked impatiently. I simply was not in the mood to deal with his bullshit this early in the morning.
"You've improved since yesterday morning, but you're still too slow. I doubt you'll even be able to keep up with me today," he told me, mock concernedly. I rolled my eyes, suppressing my anger.
"If you say so, Malfoy," I sighed, placing my broom back in my locker. I turned to leave to see him scowling at me.
"That's it?" he asked, sounding slightly disappointed. "No argument?"
"Nope," I told him, shrugging. I started walking back to the Castle, him following me. "You're right after all. There's no way we could ever beat a team as well put together as yours. Our dreams wouldn't even allow it."
I could feel his cold grey eyes bearing into my back. I was too tired to argue with him. At least this way he might get some sense of over-confidence, allowing us to secure our win even faster.
"You've really lost your touch," he sneered, trying to anger me. "I really expected more from you."
I rolled my eyes and reached the Castle doors. I immediately ran upstairs to finish my morning's sleep. That arse was NOT going to interrupt me while I was up here. No way in Hell.
OoOoO
After the Quidditch match was over, I smiled to myself. I knew we'd win; we always win. And today it was a truly victorious win. 750 – 25. I honestly felt sorry for Malfoy. I mean, having to go back to that pack of vicious, bloodthirsty animals seemed cruel, even for him.
I walked around the pitch a few times before finally heading to the showers. I figured everyone would be gone, but much to my surprise, I heard the shower farthest from the door still running. I also noticed slim robes hanging by some sort of spell on the wall. I assumed it was to keep them off the floor.
But wait, green? That's a Slytherin tie, not a Gryffindor one! Why would a Slytherin shower in our locker room though? Isn't stripping bare and scrubbing yourself in front of your enemies against their code? Deciding I wanted to know who exactly was using our showers, I peeked in at the tag.
Draco Malfoy.
Malfoy? Malfoy is using our showers? Why the hell?
I stepped lightly toward the running shower, wanting to confront him. However, when I peered around the corner, I saw Malfoy's back. His bruised, scratched, and scabbed back. My breath caught in my throat.
He turned around, much to my horror, and locked eyes with me for a brief second before scowling deeply.
"Enjoy the show?" I was surprised to realize that his voice lacked the certain arrogance it usually did. He sounded almost human. Almost, anyway.
"I was going to ask you why you're using our showers instead of your own, but now I would like to know why there are bruises lining your back," I told him, planting my feet firmly so I wouldn't run off.
"That's none of your damn business, Potter," he told me, his voice lacking the usual maliciousness. I sensed this was a pretty sensitive subject, so I gave him one last chance to tell me before I left his shower and took my own.
OoOoO
Ron, Hermione and I walked to Potions together as usual. They were chatting about something or other, but I was only half-listening. My mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Malfoy last night. Every time I would visualize those bruises, my body would involuntarily shudder. How did he get all of those damn bruises? And why didn't he talk about it? Was he abused? Wait, why the hell do I care? I hate Malfoy!
I was so lost in thought that I hadn't even noticed entering Potions and sitting next to Ron. He was waving a hand in front of my face as if I had spaced out or something. Well, I guess I had spaced out. And it was over something so stupid, too. I mean, Malfoy is probably just a masochist and was too embarrassed to say anything. Yeah, that's it. He's just a masochist.
Sighing, I smacked away Ron's hand in agitation. Stupid git. "Listen, Ron, I'm fine, okay? So stop waving your hand in front of my face like I'm some sort of stupid arse or something, alright?" I knew that he was blushing without even looking.
I heard the door slam. I knew Snape was walking in, which meant Hell for me. I was not in the mood for Snape's annoying voice. Knowing him, he would probably give us a potion impossible for anyone except Hermione to complete properly. And when Ron and I botched it, he would try to humiliate us in front of the rest of the class. Of course, we were used to it by now, so it didn't really bother us all that much anymore.
"Quiet," Snape drawled, stepping to the front of the room. I rolled my eyes. Quiet? Nobody was fucking talking to begin with. Stupid arse. "Today you will be replicating a Healing Potion. Most of you have probably taken it during the fight with the Dark Lord. As you know, it can easily save your life. So I advise you to learn how to make it properly. I must warn you though, by stirring it incorrectly, you will succeed in brewing a Killing Potion. If you do, I will make sure to have you test it."
I sighed loudly, causing Snape to avert his glare to me. "Yes, Mr. Potter? Is there something you would like to say?" I knew it was a challenge. He was challenging me to respond so he could give me a detention. I was debating whether or not to answer when a voice drawled from the back of the class.
"He probably wanted to tell you how pointless it is to have us make this damn potion, seeing as we're not incompetent second years. I am sure that all of us, Potter included, can successfully complete this primitive potion." It was Malfoy. Malfoy was defending me. Was he trying to make sure that I wouldn't tell anyone about his back?
Snape's face fell into a scowl. "Well, Mr. Malfoy, since you are so positive that everyone in this seventh year class can complete this potion perfectly, I will allow you to duplicate another." His scowl grew into a smirk within a matter of seconds. Oh, shit. That was the look he had right before he asked us to do the impossible. Damn! "In fact, I have an idea. The class will work in pairs to complete a project for me. I would like you to create a potion of your own design. Your potion will need to solve a problem both of you are experiencing. You will have until next Tuesday to complete this assignment and present it to the class." Everyone started talking happily. But I knew there had to be a catch.
"But, I will assign your partners." I knew it. Everyone let out a simultaneous groan. "And since it was Mr. Malfoy's doing that led to this decision, I will allow him to choose his partner. After he chooses, I will assign the rest of you partners." I rolled my eyes. If I had said what Malfoy had, I'd be in detention. But no. Since he said it, he gets rewarded. And I was under the assumption teachers weren't supposed to show favoritism.
"Potter." It took my brain at least three consecutive minutes to process what had just happened. Snape told Malfoy he could choose his partner. Malfoy chose me. Me. What the hell? Something was wrong with this picture. First Malfoy defends me publicly when he knows I would've gotten detention if he hadn't interfered, then he chooses me as his 'lab partner'. Why was he being so nice to me?
"Mr. Malfoy, if this is your attempt at humor, I feel I must point out that it is not funny," Snape said, seemingly as confused as the rest of the class. I looked to the back of the class at Malfoy. He was sitting next to a very offended looking Pansy Parkinson. His face was the epitome of sincerity, and yet, I still couldn't believe he'd said that. Something about it was off. Something about it was just plain wrong.
He casually locked eyes with me. In that two-second connection, I felt that he was being serious, that it wasn't all just some joke. I still couldn't and wouldn't allow myself to believe it. Lord knows I don't want to be partners with Malfoy for a week.
"I assure you, Professor, that I am being completely sincere. You asked me to pick a partner, and I choose Potter," Malfoy told Snape, a tiny smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I was still reluctant to believe him, even though my gut was telling me that he wasn't lying. Stupid fucking gut. I wish it would just shut up sometimes.
Snape (and the rest of the class) returned his gaze to me. He now looked annoyed, as if it were frustrating for him to have his favorite student, who happened to be his godson, choose me as his partner. You would think the man would show a little respect for me, what with the fact that he SHOWED me why he'd been such a prick over the years, and it was my fault he was still ALIVE. Well, maybe that's his new reason for hating me; I didn't let him die.
"Well, Mr. Potter?" Snape seemed to be asking me. "Are you going to go sit next to Mr. Malfoy or am I going to have to carry you over there?"
I rolled my eyes, grabbed my bag and walked back to where Pansy had stood. I sat in her seat while she sneered down at me, resentment obvious in those dark eyes of hers. I then remembered something. I looked around the classroom quickly, looking for a specific person.
I locked eyes with him and gave him a reassuring smile. He eyed Malfoy with apprehension for a moment, then smiled back at me, as if to say he was okay with us working together, but he didn't like it. I nodded and looked over at Malfoy while Snape started pairing everyone off.
"What are you playing at?" I asked him quietly as Snape assigned Seamus to work with Goyle. I looked over at him and shrugged. I smiled apologetically. He glared at me. I mouthed something to him, and he started to smile.
"Well, apparently it's you whose playing at something," Malfoy commented as I turned back to face him. I quirked an eyebrow, trying to feign indifference. It worked pretty well, but I had a feeling he knew I wanted to know exactly what he meant. Which obviously meant I had something to hide.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked as calmly as I could. I could see him smirk and suddenly realized just how attractive that smirk made him. Wait, no! This is Malfoy we're talking about! The same Malfoy that broke my nose, body-bound me, covered me with my invisibility cloak and let the train take off with me still onboard LAST YEAR! He wasn't attractive! He was evil and manipulative and a backstabbing bastard!
"Well," he answered, obviously oblivious to the argument going on in my head. "You and Finnegan are obviously shagging. Now why you'd want to shag him I really don't understand, but it is quite apparent that you two enjoy it at least. And it's also apparent that none of your friends have taken notice as of late. Either they are in denial, or they really are as dense as I believe them to be. Either way, it doesn't matter."
I rolled my eyes, my heart suddenly thundering and hammering wildly against my ribcage. I didn't let my nervousness show, though, thank God. "If it doesn't matter, then why'd you even bring it up in the first place?" I asked, obviously annoyed.
He answered me with another one of those sexy smirks. No! He was NOT sexy! Draco Malfoy is NOT and NEVER WILL BE sexy! Ugh!
"Well, if my partner might make some advances toward me, I have the right to know exactly who they're doing so I can promptly have it end," he told me, looking over at Seamus briefly. I knew my face had twisted into something representing confusion, disbelief and disgust. I would NEVER hit on Malfoy! The fact that he even THINKS it might be a possibility is atrocious!
I glared at him as I answered. "Believe me, Malfoy, I would never hit on you. I am quite happy with my relationship with Seamus, and I have no doubt in my mind that anything you could offer would be second-best compared to him," I told him heatedly, trying to keep my voice low. It was only then that I had realized that Pansy had been paired up with Hermione.
Malfoy smirked at me again and fantasies went flying through my head. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to expel the images from my brain. "We'll just see about that, won't we, Potter?"
I glared at him. "You never did explain why you chose me," I pointed out, trying to change the subject. The last thing I needed was Seamus to get a howler from his wacko mum saying she and the rest of the family disowned him because he was gay. Damn Christians.
"Ah, but is it really of any importance?" he asked, his tone suddenly reflecting his obvious discomfort. I suddenly grew braver.
"Of course it matters, Malfoy. I mean, I see your tortured back the other day and now you're suddenly defending me and choosing to work with me? Something about that is off," I told him, keeping my tone very low. The last thing I needed was everyone to overhear this conversation. That could create more trouble than Malfoy was worth.
His body tensed as soon as I mentioned the shower incident. "Your spying on me while I was in the shower was not only an obvious release of pent up sexual tension, but it was also very sadistic of you," he mumbled. I raised my eyebrows in shock. Malfoy was mumbling his retorts. Now I was certain something was wrong. Something was VERY wrong.
"Sadistic? Please. And I wasn't spying. I just wanted to know why you were using our showers instead of your own," I explained, trying to keep my voice low. It was becoming increasingly difficult as the subject was becoming increasingly interesting. At least now I had something to hold over him for once in his pathetic life.
"You weren't even supposed to be there," he told me angrily, obviously struggling to keep his voice down as well. At least I wasn't the only one.
"Wasn't supposed to be there? I'm a Gryffindor. Those were the Gryffindor showers. Where else was I supposed to be?" I asked him, confused. What the hell did he mean by 'I wasn't supposed to be there'?
"I meant that all of you stupid Gryffindors were supposed to have been gone," he told me, refusing to look me in the eye.
"Why were you using ours anyway?" I demanded, suddenly annoyed at his avoidance of the question.
"I always do," he mumbled.
"What?" My eyebrows damn near shot off my face.
"Look, I just don't want the rest of the Slytherins asking a bunch of questions, alright?" he sounded pissed off. Granted, if I were in his shoes, I would probably be a little annoyed, too.
I didn't have time to respond, though, as class was dismissed. He stood and left immediately, seemingly glad he didn't have to talk to me anymore. Well, Malfoy, I have some bad news for you.
I will find the truth out.
