Draco Malfoy stared at the goblet of pumpkin juice before him. "You say that Pansy Parkinson gave this to you?" he asked, turning to his lackey. The rather fat boy named Goyle stared at him blankly for a moment then nodded dully.
"You're sure no-one else gave it to you?"
"Yeah," Goyle said thickly.
Malfoy shrugged, looking out the Slytherin common-room window to see none other than that sniveling coward Potter, walking down the hallway towards the Great Hall. He sighed and drank the goblet's contents, and a strange expression appeared on his face. It didn't exactly taste like pumpkin juice. It tasted like peppermints, and oranges, and pumpkin juice, all together but also at different times.
Such things happen when if comes to love potions.
•••
Harry Potter stood in the Great Hall, watching Ron study. Exactly what he was studying, he didn't know, but… it was amusing. Clearly, the red-haired boy was not enjoying the task at hand; he was grumbling to himself and a rather pissed-off expression was on his face, and the tips of his ears were red.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, trying to stifle his laughter. His laughter came out like a dog barking—a short blast of air that was rather awful sounding.
"What are you doing? Just standing there, with absolutely nothing to do?" the Weasley retorted, glowering up at Harry over a pile of textbooks and parchment.
"No. I'm watching you study." The black-haired boy mumbled.
"Well… you're distracting me."
Harry sighed. His best friend was in one of his moods. Again. "Fine. I'll just let you alone." He turned, an exasperated frown crossing his lips. "Since you're so busy studying even though your Charms exam is in a half-hour."
"WHAT?" he asked, eyes widening. "Why didn't you say that?"
"You didn't ask."
There were shuffling sounds as Ron searched for his textbook. "Oh, bloody hell. I can't find my book."
"Want me to go get it? I mean, since you're busy with other stuff?" he asked, caving. He couldn't stand arguing with Ron, even though it had happened many times since their first year.
"Would you?" Ron asked, a wide grin appearing on his face.
"Sure. It's in the common room, right?"
"No, it's under my pillow."
Harry nodded and walked towards the common room—only to be stopped abruptly by three people: two rather large, and one rather gaunt and skinny.
•••
"Going somewhere, Potter? Off to see your Mudblood friend, Granger?" Draco Malfoy asked, his arms folded over his chest in a would-be-tough pose. 'Would-be,' because he really didn't look it.
"It's really none of your business, Malfoy." Harry said, saying the pale boy's name with vehemence. He genuinely hated the Slytherin boy.
"Well, you refused my offer in first year. You still sure you don't want to be with the best?" Malfoy leaned back against the wall, nonchalantly, as if there was nothing wrong with what he was asking.
Harry's eyes widened slightly. "What exactly are you asking?"
"I'm just wondering if you'd like to try and be friends."
Friends? The word friends isn't even in his vocabulary, Harry thought. "No way."
"Are you sure?" Malfoy asked, walking towards the black-haired boy, his pale grey eyes meeting his vivid green. His hand reached out, grabbing the clasp of the Gryffindor's cloak, pulling him almost alarmingly close. Close enough to kiss.
Alarms went off inside Harry's mind. He hesitated, then struggled back. "What kind of f-friendship—" he stammered the word cautiously, "—do you mean?" he asked, swallowing.
"Do you really want to know?" Malfoy said, thin lips pulling into a frown. "I can show you." His grip on Harry's cloak tightened, refusing to let him go.
Harry gulped as the blonde boy stepped closer, closing the space between them. "N-no. I s-still refuse." He said nervously. It was obvious that the situation was against him. After Malfoy graced him with a complete minute of silence that seemed to last an eternity, he managed to stammer out, "L-look… Malfoy—you can't really be serious about this—"
"But what if I am completely serious?" Malfoy asked softly, holding Harry's frightened gaze.
"I-I don't think y-you are, Malfoy. You c-can't b-be—"
"Can't be what?"
Harry's face flushed. "I—we couldn't—even if we wanted to, which we don't. It's w-wrong."
Draco Malfoy's grey eyes flickered, sliding down Harry's body. "You don't seem very sure about that."
"B-but it's wrong!" he cried out, finally managing to break free of Malfoy's grip. "What if s-someone finds out? What will we do then?"
"You're just in denial." Malfoy said, snickering at the raven-haired boy's flustered reaction. "I'm sure you'll come around." With that, he turned and left, Crabbe and Goyle following him, both of them unfazed by what had just happened. They hadn't exactly been paying attention.
