Author: TheSiner
Title : Another Cinderella Story
Genre: Romance, Drama and some attempted humor :)
Pairing: Harry/Draco (main)
Summary: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story. Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.
Rating: NC15
Disclaimer: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.
Warnings: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing.
Chapter TwoDraco understood why Blaise had pulled him away, because what he saw was worth it. Pansy Parkinson was completely drunk or even high and making out with her cousin. Blaise, who also knew the Parkinsons, assured his friend that the guy really was a cousin. Ewww…
However Malfoy instantly regretted leaving his companion when he didn't find her when he came back. Draco tried not to worry, he simply sat down and waited. But the girl still didn't come back.
Draco was not going to leave it like that. He went inside and searched through all of his house. Sadly without any success.
"Blaise!" Draco shouted. He managed to find his best friend at least. "I can't find her anymore! She had vanished. As if the earth had opened and swallowed her."
"Calm down, Draco," the other man was quite surprised to see the blonde so flustered. "Are you drunk?"
Draco rubbed his forehead tiredly: "I am not drunk. I just met the woman of my dreams and now she's gone!" His voice had risen almost to shouting when he finished the sentence.
"Ok, Ok, calm down, we will find her. I will help you looking for your princess, maybe she's in the bathroom or something, you know how long girls stay there."
"How could I know!" The Malfoyheir snapped. "I hope so…," he sighed trying to calm down.
Blaise raised an eyebrow looking at his friend: "I can't believe my eyes, Malfoy. What did she do to you? She must be really... something"
"She is…" gorgeous, innocent, tender… everything.
Draco roamed his house like a madman, brushing off everyone who tried to strike a conversation. He had to find her. Nothing.
It was as if the cheering, colorful crowd was mocking him, laughing at him. Nowhere. He couldn't find his princess.
"Ok, Draco, I found out that a girl in a white dress had been seen with some Dudley Dursley," Blaise patted Draco on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We will find her."
Draco had no idea who that Dursley was, but he would agree make talking his father into adopting the guy, if he only knew where he could find the girl he had met tonight. He hadn't even asked her name! What an idiot he was…
"Milicent," Draco nodded greeting the girl who was standing next to some muscular jock and another couple.
"Hello, Draco," the girl greeted. They knew each other from the first grade. Millicent was one of the rare girls who weren't trying to bewitch him. She knew for sure that the Malfoy heir was out of his league. That was refreshing and deserved respect.
"Have you met my boyfriend Piers Polkiss and Dudley Dursley?" Millicent introduced courteously. "And you already know Vicky Frobisher, don't you?"
Vicky was adulating Draco with one of her most dashing smiles. He had neither time, nor patience for that.
"I am most delighted," that was said with sarcasm which went unnoticed by the most of their group. "However I wanted to ask you about a young woman which had been seen in your company. White dress, dark hair, green eyes… I would like to know where I could find her."
Millicent's eyes almost bulged and she had to concentrate very hard to not allow her mouth fall open. She hadn't noticed before, but the mighty Draco Malfoy certainly was not being his usual self at the moment, he had that crazy gleam in his eyes and he looked as if the floor was burning up under his feet. She had known Malfoy for ages and never ever Millicent had seen him like this.
Oh, dear… He was completely, utterly, madly… But he had no idea with whom! No way, Draco couldn't find out about Harry. Nothing good could come out of it. Dudley looked like he was about to say something. Oh, no, Millicent wasn't having any of that.
She took Draco under her arm and not caring about the other young people led him to the side.
When the distance was enough Millicent looked Draco in the eyes. "Sorry, Draco, I can't let Vicky hear this. Honestly we have no idea who that girl was. Dudley asked her to walk around with him for a bit to make Vicky jealous. We met her just tonight; she told that her name was Harriet and nothing much more though. That is all I know, I am sorry Draco."
It appeared no one knew the mysterious girl. No one had seen or met her before. It almost seemed she had been a just a vision or a ghost. A mystery of Halloween night. She had vanished without a trace.
Cinderella had left at least a slipper. Draco didn't have even that.
Harry was walking in the direction where he thought his home was. He had taken of his fancy atlas shoes, because they had rubbed blisters on his feet. Now they were getting very cold.
But Harry almost didn't notice physical discomfort. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. This day had been more than he had experienced during his whole life.
He had flown to heaven and fallen back on earth in no time. And now, now he was descending to hell. What had he been thinking? He never got what he wanted and the prince, whose name was Draco couldn't bee his.
Harry couldn't understand himself. What had actually happened? He had been mesmerized, bewitched, spellbound… maybe he had just overdone living his part? He was not a pretty girl. He was not pretty at all. It was only the makeup and the beautiful dress. Why had he been so enthralled with blonde man?
He was extremely handsome, but since when Harry found other men attractive? It couldn't be right. To fancy another man. Uncle Vernon always talked about fags, damn poofters, and shirt lifters with disgust. Sometimes he had even hinted that he thought Harry was going to turn into one of them. Harry had always wanted to prove that Vernon was wrong. But what if he couldn't? He was a failure, he knew, he had been told that every day of his life, so that was to be expected. One more flaw.
What if he really was gay?
His first kiss had been with another man… it had been perfect. Just the memory send shivers down his spine and caused funny feeling in his stomach.
But it was not real. If his prince would know who he had kissed he would probably be disgusted. The thought itself made him sob. Even imagining the handsome face screwed up with loathing made him incredibly sad, sadder than he had ever been. Harry could easily imagine someone loathing and detesting him. It had happened to him for his whole life after all. But it hurt so much. This time it really hurt.
Teenager's feet were dirty and cold, so cold; he couldn't even feel it anymore. However the boy still could feel every bump and stone under his feet. Harry wished, he had some money for a cab. Well, but he hadn't even seen much money in his life. He hoped he was not going to get ill. It was very hard to do his chores when he had a fever, his head spinning and nose running. He still had a lot of homework to do for Monday. But it all somehow didn't matter for him.
A/N: This should end with Harry dying from pneumonia and Draco crying by his grave. But I am not that cruel. Cheers!
Harry was lying in his bed. He had just waked up. He didn't believe, he would be able to fall asleep last night; however, the boy was so tired, that as soon as he had left the bathroom after washing away his makeup and everything what could remind him of this night, he had dropped as if he was dead and slept until morning with no disturbances. Well actually, not until the morning, because it had been already morning when he had somehow managed to get home.
Luckily Petunia and Vernon had gone to visit Aunt Marge this Sunday; otherwise Harry wouldn't dream about sleeping in. It was almost afternoon, when the boy woke. His scull was throbbing after all and his throat felt as if a horde of angry cats was scratching it from inside and some parts of his body were aching. He would have to get up once, because there was no one to bring a mug of hot milk to him to ease his sore throat. No one was going to come and ask if he was feeling, Ok.
Harry knew that he shouldn't feel sorry for himself, it was not dignified, but right now he was. He couldn't express how sorry he was feeling for himself. The boy buried his face in the pillow and gave way to his bitter tears. He hadn't cried much lately, perhaps because he had accepted his fate, his place in the world and his family and acceptance came with numbness, it couldn't hurt him anymore.
It seemed that life had decided to give him a new reason to cry. It seemed there was no place for happiness in Harry Potter's life.
After November came December. But Draco Malfoy couldn't care less. He drank himself into oblivion at the New Year's party, but it didn't change anything. It didn't erase an image of a green-eyed beauty of his head. Nothing did. No amount of alcohol, partying or fucking could change it.
Soon the year turned to spring. Draco still hadn't found the girl and hadn't forgotten her. He was furious with himself, because whatever he did, he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. He didn't care about other women anymore; he couldn't bring himself to enjoy their company. Malfoy had a casual fuck when he felt like he needed it, but without much passion. He mostly spent his time studying or brooding.
He was angry at the fate for playing with him. It was a cruel joke indeed. He had never felt so passionate about anything in his life, but now he was obsessed with a girl with whom he had spent only mere minutes…
Today was the day Harry finally graduated from high school. He remembered when Dudley had graduated. He was excused from school himself that day, because he had to cut salad, bake pies and clean the house. He even had to draw a poster 'Congratulations Dudley!' was what he had written on it.
Aunt Marge was coming. They had a family dinner. Harry was 'excused' from it and it was actually a good thing, because otherwise Dursleys would keep comparing himself and their perfect son who excelled in sports and that way he had gotten accepted to college - 'University of Hogwarts'. Later Dudley went out to celebrate with his friends.
Harry's graduation was different. There was no one who was happy about him. There was no one waiting for him at home. Instead he had to hurry back to do chores. And there weren't any friends with whom he could celebrate.
Today was Harry's seventeenth birthday. It was not going to be different from any other days in his life. Not by much, anyway. He never received any presents, he had never had a birthday party.
Or maybe this was not going to be a regular day, because Harry had decided that this would be a good day to tell Dursleys that he was going to go to collage. He had been postponing it as long as it was possible, but it was important. How long could he hide something so important? He was feeling guilty for not saying them. They were his family after all, even if they didn't care.
"Uncle, aunt," Harry started after he had served them breakfast and they were halfway done eating. "I…I have something I wanted to talk about…to you." The youth was not sure why he was feeling so insecure, almost scared to tell them. Maybe for the first time in his life they would be happy for him. Maybe proud, just a little bit.
Vernon eyed his wife's nephew suspiciously as if he suspected that he was going to tell that he was planning shaving all of their hair while they were sleeping: "Then speak boy! I don't have all day."
"I… now when I finished school…I think… I," Harry stuttered.
"You will find a job and start repaying us for everything we have done for you, boy," Vernon always called him 'boy'. As if Harry was nothing, no one, as if he had no proper name.
"No, I, no," Vernon glared at the whelp who was trying to object him. But Harry took a deep breath and went on: "I am thinking about going to college." The boy finally managed to get it past his lips.
Vernon's eyes narrowed dangerously and Petunia stopped eating: "Oh, and who is going to pay for it? We are already paying for Dudley. Do you know how much it costs? I doubt that." Mrs. Dursley sneered maliciously. How could the whelp imagine that they were going to allow him to go to the collage!
"I know," the boy countered weakly. "But you won't have to pay, I got a scholarship and I think I could get a half time job…"
"Scholarship? You? With your grades? Are you delirious?" Vernon laughed nastily.
That was actually true. Harry had been a mediocre student. He received some really good grades occasionally in some of his favorite subjects. However he was often too tired or didn't have time to study or he had to do Dudley's assignments and didn't have time for his own. So, in the most of subjects his grades were not good enough to get a scholarship. Except in one.
"I… I got a scholarship in… in Arts…" Harry's Arts teacher had been sending his paintings, drawings and collages to numerous competitions. She had always told him, that Harry could become a successful painter. He had never believed that and Mrs. Mary had been forced to make him hand over his artwork to bring it to one contest or another. As usually she had sent Harry's works to the art department of 'Hogwarts Academy' without asking him. They didn't care about math or chemistry. His talent was all what mattered. And they strangely had agreed with Mrs. Mary, that Harry had plenty of it.
He had been shocked. He had never expected that. He hadn't dared to dream. He was going to college after all and even better – he would be able to do what he had always enjoyed doing. Draw and paint.
Apparently Vernon Dursley didn't like the idea that much, judging by his reddening face.
"A nice plan you got here, boy," Harry's uncle was not one who leave his anger inside. Usually it came out joined by drops of man's spit. "We accept you in our house feed you, clothe you; we spend our money on your education and one day you just leave, leaving your poor aunt alone. You know Petunia can't work in the garden, with her poor health, don't you? You are ungrateful, boy. Of course, what can I expect? You say you want to go to college? To study what? Art? To become a good for nothing idler? To keep disgracing our family!"
If Vernon's voice had been just angry in the beginning of his speech, then he was shouting furiously as he finished.
"I could still help you in the weekends," Harry offered weakly.
"Weekends! Weekends? And where are you going to live? Do you think you will keep living in this house and eating our food and only helping in weekends?"
"I will have a room in the dorms…"
"Dorms? Then get the hell out of my house! Go to your dorms boy!" Vernon's face had turned red as tomatoe, he had lost his temper completely.
"School is not starting until September…"
"Do you think I care!" Vernon stood up towering over his small nephew. The man was very angry. Harry flinched, afraid that his uncle would hit him. Dursley grabbed the boy by his shoulder quite painfully and showed him out of the dining room. "Get the hell out of my house ungrateful whelp! If you are going to do that…the thing you are going to do…then you will not stay under my roof. I had tolerated you for long enough!"
That was how Harry left. He didn't cry. Not at all. He didn't shed a single tear. All he was feeling was the familiar numbness. The boy didn't have to wonder why. Dursley's just couldn't hurt him anymore.
Harry was standing on the pavement in the front of Dursley's house. All of his belongings were packed in one suitcase which had been stacked in his room, because it was broken, it had only one wheel left.
He had nowhere to go and he didn't have much money.
Harry had no idea what he was going to do.
However right now he didn't feel anything. Only numbness.
Maybe he should be angry at his relatives… actually Harry thought that he had no right to be angry, because they had fed him all these years and they gave him place to stay. It was understandable that they were angry at him; Dursleys were forced to raise him even if they didn't love him. Never wanted him.
He could understand…
Harry dragged himself down the street in some undetermined direction… he really didn't know where, until he became awfully tired…
A pair of young, cheerful redheads was just returning home after a football match with their friends.
"That was great, wasn't it!"
"Yeah, brother, we rule!"
"Yes we do!"
"He wouldn't know…"
"What got him. I know."
"Hey, Forge, do you see it?"
"What Gred?"
"On the bench,"
"Yeah, a kid,"
"He shouldn't be sleeping on the bench, don't you think."
"No, course not,"
"Hey, hippy," one of the two identical red-heads nudged the boy who was currently sleeping on a park bench.
"Mmm," the teenager murmured, still refusing to open his eyes.
"Maybe we should…" Fred was probably suggesting playing some prank on the tight sleeper.
So Gorge shook his head. This was not the time to take advantage of someone who was not being careful enough. Instead Fred… or was it Gorge… shook the boy by his shoulder.
"What!" Harry immediately almost sprang to his feet.
"Doesn't look very cozy, Right Forge?"
"Couldn't have said better Gred,"
"So, what's the story?"
"We'd really liked to know what you are doing here in the middle of night,"
"And we won't believe that you just bought this bench to be your knew home,"
"And just moved in,"
"No, we won't."
"So?" both redheaded twins asked in unison and looked at the boy expectantly and Harry was quite convinced that they were not going to let him go, before he told them everything they wanted to know. Anyway, he was too tired to protest, so he gave in.
Harry told them, that he had been thrown out of house and hadn't found where to stay until college started. Yet. He was sure that he would be able to figure something out tomorrow. Staying outside for one night was not such a great deal… he would be fine.
Both twins locked their gazes as if making sure, they were thinking the same. Naturally they were.
"Hey!" The dark-hired boy yelped when he was lifted off the bench when both older boys hooked their hands under his armpits. One of them put his hand around boy's shoulders and other took Harry's bag.
"You can't imagine how angry our mother would be if she found out that we left a little, cute lad like you alone, sleeping in the park,"
"We really can't do that. You will understand, when you'll meet her, our mother," the other twin finished. "It won't do,"
"Nope,"
"So, we are,"
"Taking you with us!"
Harry was led somewhere. He knew that he shouldn't follow strangers, but both young men really didn't feel dangerous. They were kind of weird, at least the way they finished each others sentences, but they didn't scare Harry. They were persistent though and didn't listen to any objections; they were taking Harry home.
That was how Harry Potter was introduced to the Weasley family.
He had never met people like Weasleys before. They were loud, curious and kind, and welcoming. All of them were redheads and there were so many of them.
As soon as Harry stepped over their threshold, Fred and George had told their mother what had happened to Harry and got scolded about three times because of their foul mouth (because the twins had managed to stick in a couple of quite colorful words in their story mostly referring to the Dursleys).
Molly Weasley, who was the caring mother for them all, was horrified by actions of Harry's relatives. The woman kept repeating that she could not understand those people, how could they leave their own nephew on the street in the middle of night! And such a sweet boy! She kept burbling while furiously piling as much food on the plate in front of Harry as it could hold and urging him to have more mash potatoes.
Next Harry was introduced to Ginerva Weasley, their youngest and the only girl in the family. At first she appeared to be kind of shy and timid. However very soon Ginny obviously decided that their guest was no threat and actually the boy was more scared of her than the other way around and her true nature came out.
After Ginny Weasley's younger son Ron joined their company and he was obviously having hard time deciding if he was more interested in Harry's story or Molly's cottage pies.
Finally Arthur Weasley returned from his work (as often he had been doing overtime). As the official head of the family he announced that Harry could stay as long as he wanted.
The boy was informed that there were three more redheads who just were not around at the moment.
They had no doubts, if they would keep Harry or not. Two of the oldest Weasley sons had already mowed out of the Burrow and were working abroad, so the new family member could stay in Bill's and Charlie's room. Molly's eyes got a bit wet, even if her oldest boys were grown up men who were living their own lives, their place was not going to stay empty.
Every time Harry tried to object that he didn't want to be a bother, it was brushed off. Molly had decided and that was it. The dark-hired boy was staying.
As it could be expected Harry's staying at the Burrow had been prolonged for undetermined period of time. No one objected, they all took liking of the quiet dark-haired boy very soon.
This house and people – everything was so strange for him and different from what Harry had seen before. But in a very good way.
The Burrow was completely opposite to Dursley's house. The Privet drive number four had been a perfect, clean, almost like some kind of sterile laboratory or a picture perfect from a decorating magazine. It was hard to imagine that it was inhabited by a real family.
On the opposite The Burrow was homely and cozy. There was no doubt that it was a happy family house. It was not always so clean and often things were out of order, no matter how hard Molly was trying to keep everything under control and how loud she was yelling at her children to clean up after themselves.
Harry turned out to be the only one who willingly helped Molly with cleaning and cooking and other housework struggles. She was in seventh heaven. Molly complained that Ron couldn't cook even if someone would threaten to throw him in a pit filled with spiders (which was a very mighty threat) and Ginny could think only about boys and burned or over-salted everything she touched. And the twins… well, the twins were twins, some things one just couldn't expect from them. So, Mrs. Weasley thought that the boy was heaven-sent.
But when Harry told Mrs. Weasley that he was going to study art, she was truly impressed.
Contrary to Vernon Molly thought that it was wonderful, Harry was going to become a real painter and 'create beauty'. She didn't doubt that he was talented; after all he had received a scholarship. That proved something. So, Harry immediately became Molly's favorite and she insisted that he should stay at least until the school started. And she would be very happy if he stayed even after that.
The last days of summer passed quickly and very soon it was finally the day. Harry and Ron were going to college.
When the boys finished showering and dressed they climbed down the stairs only to find Arthur already finishing his coffee, ready to go to work. Molly was smiling broadly while cooking some bacon on the stove. Most of it was going to disappear in the bottomless pit which was Ron's stomach.
She had already prepared some sandwiches for Ron and Harry's dinner. Molly even got tear-eyed muttering something about her youngest son finally leaving the family nest… Ron just rolled his eyes: "Come on, Mum, I won't be leaving for at least for years more!" But he hugged Molly nonetheless and patted her back.
Both boys almost didn't speak on the bus. They were obviously both worried and excited in the same time.
Finally when they entered the Hogwarts' grounds Harry and Ron had to part, because they were taking very different courses.
Harry pulled his plain baseball cap lower over his eyes and waved to Ron who was going in the opposite direction. This was Harry's first day at college. He was very nervous, excited and scared. The lawn in front of college was filled with student's who were sitting on the lawn and relaxing or hurrying to their lectures.
Harry also had to run. Being late for his first class wouldn't be a good thing.
"Look where you are going!" Someone snapped at the boy angrily after he crushed in someone larger and stronger than him.
"Sor…" the boy lifted his head to see to whom he was apologizing to and froze. Every trace of color left his face.
"What!" The other man barked. "Cat's got your tongue? Do you think I am going to stand here all day long and wait for an apology?"
Harry was dumbstruck. Just apologize and leave. Speak up! His mind was screaming at him, but his body wasn't cooperating.
"Stupid, little shit," the furious blonde walked away, not sparing the boy a second glance.
"Draco, you scared the poor freshman, it's not his fault that you are not in a mood," Blaise tried to soothe his friend.
Harry however was still standing in the middle of the hall. Draco hadn't recognized him… he was not sure if he was relieved or disappointed. It should be a good thing. He was not the person Draco had met at the party… Yes, it was better like this. But it still hurt. Seeing his prince was like rubbing salt in a wound which still hadn't healed completely. And he had yelled at Harry, probably he hated him now.
Damn! Now he was really going to be late!
Harry was a bit tardy, but he managed sneaking in the auditorium unnoticed. It was something the boy was really good at.
That day the first lecture was composition. A lot of theory mostly. At least in the beginning. So Harry pulled out his note book and started writing everything down as fast as he could, however his thoughts were still elsewhere…
"Hey…" the blonde girl who was sitting next to Harry leaned closer to him. "A rough day, hm?"
Harry looked at the girl and the first thing he noticed was that she was wearing large earrings which looked like carrots and orange lipstick to match them. Her dirty blond hair was arranged in weird twists.
"It's nothing," he answered her.
"Well, my name is Luna Lovegood," the girl seized Harry's hand and shook it vigorously.
"Harry. Harry Potter."
Luna remained the only person with whom Harry had made friends by himself. And probably only because she had approached him first. He had never had any practice and couldn't know how one was supposed to do that; he had never had friends before.
But now the boy had Ron who had obviously decided that he had to be not only Harry's friend, but also something like an older brother. That meant introducing him to all of his friends. Some people the redhead knew from the high school, like Hermione Granger who was studying politics now, Neville Longbottom, who was studying biology, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas who were also majoring economics like himself plus Parvati and Padma Patil who were both going to become medics. They were nice, cheerful people and Harry enjoyed spending time with them.
Harry was mainly staying quiet, sitting with them and listening to their conversations and answering some questions when he was asked. But this was more than he had ever had.
He belonged. He belonged with Weasley family and he almost belonged with those young people who were chatting with each other around him. She was allowed to be here, with them. They could never imagine how much that meant to Harry.
Harry was really lucky. Things were looking up for him. He had found a job. It was on Saturdays and Sundays, he and Neville Longbottom helped one of Molly Weasley's friends Pomona Sprout with gardening. The lady owned a company which dealt with rare and exclusive plants. Naturally Harry intended giving everything he earned to Weasleys to cover the expenses, he didn't want to be a freeloader. Besides Harry didn't need any money anyway, he had never had it. The scholarship covered his studies and he had no idea what else besides food he needed.
So Harry's weekends were spent working in fresh air and he earned enough to give some money to Mrs. Weasley. He hadn't minded giving it all, but she had insisted that he had to keep some of it.
Harry had seen Draco for several times and also he had heard all kinds of rumors about him. The young man was someone a lot of people talked about, one of the most popular guys in the school. He had looks, wealth, and character and belonged to a very prominent family. Draco's surname was Malfoy. He was not only gorgeous, but also rich, popular and smart. He was majoring in law and was going to get his degree this year. How could anyone be so perfect?
Well, maybe not perfect. Malfoy was obviously quite arrogant, but Harry could justify that – he was an amazing person after all and had a reason to think of himself highly. Besides someone that popular had to appear a bit snobbish and reserved to keep away the mob of people who wanted to be his friends.
Harry was allowed only look. He knew that. For some reason he was happy and also sad every time he spotted the man. Every time he had an inner battle, he wanted to stop looking at the blonde man, stop tormenting his poor heart, but still, there was nothing he could do. As soon as he saw Draco Malfoy boy's eyes were drawn to him, the blonde was the only one he saw.
Harry had known that one day that was going to happen, no matter how large 'The Hogwarts' was. Harry knew that one day he would run into Dudley Dursley. But… the timing couldn't be worse.
Dudley had caught Harry unaware in the middle of one of his 'Draco watching' sessions. Even worse. Harry had figured out that he could draw a portrait. Draco's portrait. After all he had watched the man so much…
That was how Dudley saw him. With his sketchbook secretly observing one of the most popular guys in the school.
"I have known it all along you freek," Dudley sneered. "So dad was right, you are a little fag after all. Should I go and tell Malfoy that you would like to suck his cock, eh? I bet he's going to be 'very' happy about that. Will kiss you and ask to marry him."
Harry paled and blushed in the same tine. He was ashamed and scared. He knew this was wrong, but he had kept doing it, kept feeling it and now Dudley knew. If he told Draco, Harry was going to die from embarassment.
"Please, Dudley, don't," the boy begged.
"Why wouldn't I?" The other boy sneered.
"I'll do whatever you want, just don't tell anything," the younger boy offered.
"Fine. I won't." Dudley was pleased. Manipulating his cousin was a child's play. "But you owe me one. Don't forget that."
With that Dudley stalked away proudly. He hadn't decided what he wanted from Potter, not yet… but he would.
Harry was left fearing the day when Dudley would decide to collect his debt.
Sometimes Draco got the strangest feeling – he could swear that someone was watching him. He usually didn't pay any attention to other students. Someone was looking at him pretty often, usually trying to attract his attention.
However this time there was something different about it. Draco couldn't catch the culprit.
There was no one looking at him, when he lifted his eyes and looked around. Or if there was someone watching him, then it was not the person whose eyes he felt so intensely.
It didn't make Draco feel uneasy or skittish; it didn't feel like it was someone who hated and wished to hurt him. But he just felt it. Someone was there, staring at him intently.
Draco wasn't even sure why he cared this time. He was used to getting stared at. Draco was aware that he wasn't hard on the eye, so it usually didn't bother him at all. However this time it was somehow different, it intrigued him, made him curious.
Harry didn't believe in coincidences, but they obviously believed in him, or he wouldn't be standing in the front of The Malfoy Manor one pleasant Saturday morning.
"Don't be shy, Harry, come in, dear. I need to introduce you to Mrs. Malfoy before you start working," Pomona Sprout urged.
The truth was that Harry had actually been kind of promoted. However it turned out that not always a promotion was a good thing. Pomona Sprout had smiled widely and announced that she was going to entrust him taking care of plants in Mrs. Malfoys' garden. Harry had hoped that those were not the same Malfoys. But how many Malfoys were there? And how many of them owned a manor?
Harry felt like kicking and screaming and begging not to make him enter the house which he remembered too well.
But he couldn't say 'no' to Mrs. Sprout; how would he explain if she asked why he didn't want to work for Malfoys? Besides he was not used to saying 'no' to people; his mouth just didn't cooperate with his brain those moments. There was nothing the boy could tell her to make Pomona Sprout to change her mind, so Harry had to grit his teeth and get introduced to Mrs. Malfoy.
The woman appeared to be colder than an icicle. Her skin was aristocratically pale, and hair platinum blonde, pulled up in a tight knot above her head and a string of pearls around her neck.
She made it very clear that being in company of common people like Harry and Pomona Sprout was an act of great generosity from her. However she didn't mind Harry working for her. After all he was just a gardener. She hardly even looked at the boy. Harry couldn't blame her for that because he knew that there really wasn't much to see.
Still, the boy was pretty much relieved when they were excused and Sprout showed Harry around. The garden was huge as well as the mansion, so there were two other gardeners who were mowing lawns and tending to trees and flower beds.
Harry's responsibility was going to be the winter garden which was something amazing, he had to admit that. It was heated keeping the temperature constant all year long; only that way they could keep alive all of the exotic plants.
Harry was not sure if he could manage it, if he could really take the responsibility. But Mrs. Sprout insisted that he could and Harry owed her, she had been so kind and gave him work, even if he could do it only on weekends.
Being there in this mansion made Harry feel very strange. When Sprout had showed Harry the garden they had walked by the fountain where Harry had sat next to Draco that Halloween night almost a year ago. The young man had wanted to stand there and look at the beautiful thing for a while; he had thought that he would never see this place again. However Mrs. Sprout had other plans and hurried ahead.
It didn't matter. Harry would probably be able to return later. If he wanted.
Harry was sitting by the bead of beautiful orchids tending to their needs. They were gorgeous, but had no smell. Like pretty girls with no brain. There were nice to look at, but besides that didn't make a lot of difference if you put them in a vase in your room.
"Who are you," Harry was startled by a voice behind his back and almost cut down one of the exquisite plants with gardening scissors. However he didn't miss his hand. Blood started tickling down one of boy's fingers. Harry had no idea where all the blood was coming from. The cut couldn't be so deep; he was looking at the red liquid which was slowly coloring the soil under his feet.
"Damn! What kind of slowwitted klutz are you! Stop staring at it!"
Harry turned around and froze when he saw exactly who was standing there glaring at him angrily.
"Show me that!" Draco ordered and grabbed the boy's hand. "You should be more careful, you know," he noted reproachfully, got a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around Harry's injured finger. "This should do for now, but you must clean it or you will get an infection."
Harry could only stare mesmerized. There he was. The man of his dreams, holding his hand.
Suddenly Draco realized that he had been holding boy's hand for too long and he had started almost playing with the small fingers without any valid reason. Suddenly embarrassed, he released it.
"You must be the new gardener boy. The new mute garden boy," Draco smirked shooting the last glance at the small creature with strange, round glasses. The boy kind of reminded Draco of someone. He had no idea whom and he was not sure why he had approached the gardener; usually he didn't pay attention to servants, never greeted them, and never asked their names. They were servants and they were coming and going and doing what they were paid for. But something had drawn him to the boy whose face Draco could hardly see, because it was hidden by a baseball cap and those ugly glasses.
He turned around once more before leaving the winter garden. The boy was still standing by the orchids and cradling his arm as if it was an injured bird. Maybe he really was a bit slow?
Harry knew that he should have said something. But instead he had let Draco think that he was a retard or even worse. The problem was that Malfoy's appearance was so unexpected and presence so overwhelming – it made Harry freeze completely. Well, but even if he had said anything, what would it change? He had to stop dreaming about things which were not going to happen. What things? He was not even sure what things exactly…
Right now more important was to get something to clean his injury.
Draco returned to his room and to his brooding. That was all he was doing recently. It made him angry at himself. Why was this happening to him? He had thought of himself as a person who was strong and immune to such feelings, just a year ago he had been completely content with his life. He had money, he had friends and parties, but now it was not enough. A year had passed since that Halloween party, but he was still looking for a pair of green eyes wherever he went.
Draco stood up and walked to the window. He looked outside. The new gardener boy was struggling with his mother's roses. He looked so fragile and small, wearing an oversized hoody, a baseball cap and those bizarre, hideous glasses. An awful fashion sense. Draco had noticed that the young man had hardly reached his shoulders, when they had talked in the garden after the imbecile had cut his hand. But he had no idea, why.
Draco turned around and picked up the phone to call one of the girls who were always ready to entertain him. Well…who was he fooling? No matter how many meaningless liaisons he had, he wouldn't be cured of his obsession with a pair of emerald green eyes, but he needed to do something. Or he felt like going mad.
TBC