Thanks to my Beta Bigreenwivy for sending this back and forth to me endlessly!

Chapter 2 – Incorrect conclusions

The last thing I saw before falling unconscious was Harry Potter's furrowed brow, (which did not completely disguise the amused expression on his face) leaning over me. Honestly, how could this day get any worse?

~ O ~

Imagine the worst thing you could possibly wake up to and then times it by ten.

If you are anything like me then this 'something' will probably include the boy-who-lived hanging over you like a rain cloud. That, I'm afraid, is exactly what I woke up to.

The green of his eyes was burning into mine like acid, making me moan in protest then shut my eyes again. Potter. Stupid, arrogant, horribly perfect Potter...was here? And wait…where exactly was here?

"Madame Pomfrey, I think he's awake..." Potter's voice made my ears ring, the sound of it too loud and much too close. Why was he that close to me anyway? If the world were at all fair, he should have been very far away from me, preferably at least a few miles.

I intended to tell him, in no uncertain terms, to get away from me but he withdrew too quickly for me to do so.

"...that's right, back off, and if you ever go near him again I'll hex your brains out Potter!" the growling female voice began to penetrated my consciousness. Her voice grew slowly louder and louder until I recognised the snarling tone. Potter held up his hands in surrender and disappeared from my line of sight.

Ah, Pansy...and Blaise too judging by the soft rhythmic beat being made by someone's a tapping foot. Trust them two to rescue me from Potter's presence. Even if Blaise was a sarcastic bastard and Pansy was a sharp-tongued prickly little witch, I still felt a certain amount of affection for them both.

"Draco?" Pansy was bobbing over me concernedly, her hands absentmindedly smoothing down imaginary creases in my robes. "Are you ok?"

I nodded in affirmation even though, no, I was not ok, as I had run headfirst into a wall, which was embarrassing. "Sure I am."

I sat up in the heinously white hospital bed and realised that the colour of the sheets was not the only thing that was painful. My head felt clouded and heavy as if I had at least two rounds of alcohol sloshing around up there.

"Why didn't you just enervate me Miss?" I asked groggily as Madame Pomfrey bustled past my bed and shooed Pansy out of the way. She was busy filling up a beaker with a suspicious looking purple potion that I was obviously supposed to drink. I could tell she hadn't used Enervate as the spell didn't leave an after effect like a hangover. When I asked the question, she turned stern eyes on me and I shrank back a little. Merlin, how did that woman make me feel like I had done something wrong with just a look?

"That spell, Mr. Malfoy, is used to revive unconscious victims of the stunning spell, certainly not to force awake schoolchildren who have sustained concussions and nasty bruises!"

God...sorry that I asked.

On second thought, maybe it was a good thing they hadn't awoken me in a class full of watchful and nosey students. That would just have been too much. Even the thought of just my friends and Potter seeing me faint made me blush furiously. Speaking of Potter...

He was still sitting there, exactly where he had been before, fiddling with a stray thread on his robes. His face was averted but his eyes kept flicking back over to my bed as though he was afraid to look. Was I that badly bruised that I was attracting stares from the boy-who-lived?

My hand fumbled near my forehead, gently pressing down on the skin and letting out a little moan as a sharp throb went through my skull. So there was a huge great whopping bruise on my forehead. Perfect.

"Anything in particular you wanted Potter?" I asked as venomously as I could, which consequentially wasn't very venomously. His green eyes were trying to catch mine but I kept my gaze determinedly averted elsewhere. No way was he going to guilt trip me into looking at his eyes and spilling my guts to hell. No way!

"Yes." His voice was steely now as if he had made up his mind about something. The word seemed to have been bitten out as if in anger and I wished badly that he would leave me alone.

I raised my eyebrows in the characteristic universal sign for 'well?' though still not looking at him.

"Do I even have to ask?" he retorted, and I saw him lean forwards in his chair in my peripheral vision. "Isn't it obvious what explanation you owe me?"

I spluttered in indignation to buy some time as my face heated up to an almost unbearable level. Me give an explanation to Potter? That was unlikely, especially as I knew no more about it than he did.

The leg of the bedside table had never held so much appeal as a fascinating thing to look at as it did just then.

"Potter," Pansy barked out, and I recognised the edge in her voice at once. It was the one strictly reserved for people who got on her last nerve, and was laced with venom and warning. "Can't you see that Draco doesn't want to breathe the same air as you, let alone talk to you?"

Ah Pansy...what would I do without you? Even if it was slightly humiliating to have a girl fight my battles for me, I couldn't have picked a better warrior.

"I mean, so what if he's absolutely terrified of you dying?"

Oh Merlin help me. How was I ever so stupid as to think it was a wise move to let Pansy speak for me?

"You are so inappropriate Potter!" she continued and I felt my jaw drop open in disbelief. "Here he is lying on his hospital bed and you think it's ok to pester him with obviously embarrassing questions! Save it Potter; back off back to Gryffindor Tower like a good little lion."

If the words hadn't been so disturbingly childish and mortifying, the patronising tone would have been impressive.

Blaise's lips were pressed firmly together as if trying to stem the flow of laughter longing to break free. As if I hadn't had enough people laughing at me for one day...

"Go on Potter – scram!" Pansy was waving her arms about in energetic shooing gestures that made me want to bury my head in the pillow and scream. Why, God, Why?

Ever get the feeling that karma is out to kick your arse? Well that's how I feel most of the time when I happen to be around Scarhead.

A fleeting look at Potter revealed exactly what I didn't want to see. His face, like Blaise's, betrayed the fact he was trying to hold in laughter. He's not laughing at you, I tried to remind myself. He's laughing at your idiotic best mate who is trying and failing to defend your honour.

"Get out Potter," I hissed, finally turning to stare at him angrily. How dare he laugh at my friends? How dare he laugh at me? "Get - out."

He stopped laughing and his face relaxed back into the stubbornly determined look he had worn before. "No," he said, and there was no smile on his lips this time. "I want to talk to you."

"Well he doesn't want to talk to you!" said Pansy before I could answer. Damn it. Maybe a muzzle would be a good investment...

Potter let out a frustrated sigh, which for some reason was making my pulse jump erratically. I supposed this was simply an after effect of the concussion.

"Come off it Malfoy! Just tell me what –"

"Mr. Malfoy! Why are you sitting up in bed? Drink that potion now or so help me I will pour it into your protesting mouth!" Saved by the witch. Madame Pomfrey glared daggers at me from across the hospital wing as the vile of purple potion sat untouched upon my nightstand.

I downed it like it was a shot of firewhiskey. The stinging aftertaste that came with it was not dissimilar to that of the alcohol.

"Fine," Potter muttered dejectedly, his eyes narrowing. I felt the triumph of having avoided confrontation well up inside of me. "Whatever. Don't think I'm going to let this go Malfoy but some of us actually have places to be." He was standing up to leave.

The relief that had so quickly come after he had given up was instantly extinguished. He was leaving? Just like that? Of course, it was a good thing to have the room Potter-free once again but... I don't know. It made my stomach feel tight.

As the door to the hospital wing clicked shut behind him, Pansy turned to me expectantly.

"Well?" she asked impatiently, pinching me on the arm when a reply was not imminent. "Tell us about the Potter boggart!"

I fell back onto the pillows with a groan as Blaise erupted into laughter. What excellent friends I had.

~ O ~

"I'm telling you it was nothing!" I hissed for the hundredth time as we trudged along the charms corridor on our way back from the hospital wing. "The boggart must have been confused or something."

"Boggarts don't get confused," said Blaise wickedly. After Pansy had badgered me persistently about the details of my boggart Blaise had had to pry her away from me. He had been laughing at odd intervals ever since. At least someone found this situation hilarious.

"Well this one did," I argued stubbornly. That stupid Boggart had no idea what it was doing, showing me Potter's horrifically mangled corps. As if that could ever worry me! As if that image would be burned onto my retinas forever! As if it would haunt me. Honestly... What a stupid Boggart. I hated Potter.

"The boggart also reflected my pain and the death of those closest to me. What's weird about that?" I asked dismissively, trying to convince myself as much as I was them.

"The fact that after those fears it was the-boy-who-lived plastered all over the floor should be a subtle clue that something is wrong Draco," said Pansy worriedly.

A group of Ravenclaw girls walked past us in the opposite direction, giggling behind their hands and turning to look back at us as we disappeared around the corner.

"I'm going to kill Potter," I growled out as the girlish laughter could still be heard. "This is – entirely – his – fault!"

"To kill him you would have to actually go near him. That is something I assume you obviously do not want to do as you're putting all your effort into avoiding him." Blaise pointed out.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said with a sniff. "It's not as if I'm hiding from Potter!" how could he even suggest that? Malfoys don't hide. We're not cowards, damn it!

"That's good because look - there he is..."

I yelped in a very un-Malfoy-ish way. As quickly as humanly possible, I leapt behind a statue of the one eyed witch, retreating into the shadows as much as possible. I peered around the hump. Merlin knows I'd had enough of Potter today to last me until the end of the year. It was only as Blaise's guffaws drifted to my ears that I realised I had been played. I stomped out from behind the statue and gave Blaise my best icy glare.

"That's not even funny!" I seethed.

He continued to laugh. He was now running as fast as he could down the corridor, away from the murderous look that I was trying in vain to freeze him with. I gave chase, sprinting after him all the way up to the Slytherin common room. Pansy soon fell behind.

He got to the common room first and slammed the portrait in my face. Scowling and panting heavily I managed to spit out "Woodbine," in between muttered profanities.

I snorted with laughter as I entered the room. Blaise's dark hair was easily discernable peeking out from behind the soft green of the sofa. I allowed myself one more derisive bout of breathless laughter before I pounced.

The tussle that ensued lightened my heart considerably. It reminded me of all of our collective years at Hogwarts, from scuffles we had had over girls, (very rare and few between,) to wrestling over the last chocolate frog (far more frequent). Grappling with Blaise made everything seem ten times funnier somehow and when he ended up pinning me to the floor with my arms above my head I was still letting loose little gasping laughs.

He was straddling my hips to keep me down and the grip on my wrists felt like steel. I was a shamefully small seventeen-year-old wizard.

"So," Blaise said conversationally as though we had not just spent the last few minutes trying to bite and scratch each other. Well ok, I'll admit that I was the one doing most of the biting and scratching. I have no other assets alright?

"Since when have you had a crush on Potter?"

Every muscle in my body froze. Did he just say... Did he just imply... He didn't... did he?

It reminded me of a similar brawl we had had another time where he had used the same line opener but with the name 'Pansy'. As if I had a crush on Pansy! Merlin no... Everybody could see that Blaise was infatuated with her...

"W-What?" I managed to croak as I felt the familiar burn spread across my cheeks. "Me, have a crush on... how can you possibly..."

"Oh stop pretending!" he was grinning down at me now, the impressively white teeth bared. "It's so obvi–"

"You are deluded," I ground out, making more of an effort to extricate myself from his tight hold. It's such a shame strength has never been my strong point...

"Come off it Draco!" he laughed, not moving an inch against my futile attempts to throw him off. "Your Boggart said everything there was to say!" When I continued to look incredulous to the point of traumatised, he went on.

"The first thing you feared was the Dark Lord finding out you were disloyal to him – what comes higher than lusting after the-boy-who-lived?"

Thanks for those disturbing mental images of Potter, Blaise. As if I would ever be lusting over him...

I shook my head frantically while also glancing around the place to make sure we were the only ones in the common room. (We were).

"Your second fear was seeing your family killed. Your mother, your father, your grandparents... oh and thanks for including me in there too. I was starting to think that you telling me that I was 'like a brother to you' was just a line...

"But why oh why would the albino bad arse fear seeing Harry Potter dead?"

'The albino bad arse' was Blaise's affectionate nickname for me. I loathed it.

"The Boggart was confused," I gasped, still wriggling madly to get free. "It made a mistake!"

"It could be that," Blaise conceded with a sigh. "But that doesn't explain why you leapt about a foot in the air when I mentioned his name earlier. Or in the hospital where you flushed so red I thought you were going to burst into flames – a bit like you're doing now... and you probably don't realise this but you do have this weird little quirk where you compare things to Potter."

Remind me to get some new friends.

"'Honestly, if he was any worse at potions he'd be in league with Potter!' 'Close your mouth Zabini, you look like Potter.' 'Wow, look at that girl's arse! It looks exactly like –"

"I never said that!" I said loudly, trying to shut him up. Perhaps I did compare a few things to Potter.

"I'm not in love with him!" I shrieked and took advantage of Blaise's slightly slackened grip to throw him off of me. He was still looking strangely triumphant for someone who had just landed on his arse.

"Who said anything about love?" he murmured wickedly.

Oops. That would be me then.

I guess I set myself up for that one didn't I? It was just a slip of the tongue. I know Blaise thinks he's a genius by trying to psychoanalyse me but really...it's not what he thinks.

I couldn't find anything whatsoever to say to his previous comment. Denying it, just didn't work with Blaise. Ignoring it, just fuelled his desire to pry further into the situation. Great... So all that was left was acceptance then.

"I hate you Blaise Zabini." Was all I managed to utter before he leapt to his feet and began to dance around me wildly, letting out loud exclamations that sounded along the lines of "My little albino has finally grown up! I'm so proud!"

I resisted reaching for my wand with pure inner strength and the knowledge that once Blaise was asleep I would string him up by his ankles... That and that my wand had rolled away during the fight.

I supposed in a way I could handle Blaise mocking me. I had grown use to it after sleeping in the same room as him for the last six years. As hard as it was to believe at that moment, I knew that once this crazy erratic version of Blaise cooled off, I would have my sturdy, reliable and comforting Blaise back. Yes, I could handle it. What I could not handle was...

"How the hell did you two run so bloody fast?"

Pansy pushed the portrait open and stepped inside looking sullen. I was surprised she could walk at all let alone run after us, given the three-inch high stiletto heels she was wearing. A small smile formed on her lips as she spotted Blaise's crazy movements that now resembled a rain dance. Oh, how I missed the sanity of life outside of the dungeons sometimes...

"Pansy – guess what new revelation has just been unearthed!"

Like watching a train wreck in slow motion, I knew there was no way to stop this from happening. Even if Blaise did not tell Pansy, she was perceptive enough to come to the same, (albeit wrong,) conclusion; better to tell her now than let her go ahead with ulterior methods of...persuasion.

"It's not true," I supplied uselessly to her expectant face before hurriedly exiting the room and sprinting up to the boy's dormitory. I had only just wrenched the hangings around my bed closed when the gleeful scream of "HE'S WHAT??" echoed up from the downstairs.

Although I knew that it was near impossible to keep things from Pansy, the news still rankled that she was now in on the 'secret'. I could practically see her face now. Poor me. Pansy was the type of person who would love to have a gay best friend.

Wait a moment. What? I was beginning to act like this whole scenario was true for heaven's sake!

I pulled the covers of the bed up to my eyes and breathed deeply, trying to get my thoughts in order. The conclusions that I ended up coming to did nothing to calm my nerves.

The whole Defence against the Dark Arts class had seen my fear of Potter's death. I had failed to dispel the Boggart even after three attempts. I had ran into a wall. I had a bruise on my head. Both of my friends now thought I was gay.

Gay... I tested the word out in my mouth, whispering it to the ceiling of my canopy bed. It rolled off my tongue with difficulty and it just felt... odd. I had never once used the word in reference to myself, and only occasionally in the case of others.

"I'm not gay," I hissed out experimentally, imagining myself say it defensively to the rest of the Slytherins. Yes, it sounded better. Of course I wasn't gay.

I had never really put a lot of thought into my sexuality before. I didn't need to. It was just a given that I was straight. I was to marry and have an heir. Father had already picked out my bride though I hadn't met her. She lived in France. In my defence, she sounded lovely from the letters she wrote...

"Gay..." I whispered again. Could I be? Up until now, it had never even been a possibility.

I tried feebly to picture myself with a man on my arm instead of a girl, imagine his lips on mine instead of hers. I tried to imagine Potter with me. Potter smiling at me, Potter kissing me.

I shuddered then laughed softly to in the darkness. Potter and Malfoy together in one room was enough to cause jinxes to fly. Potter and Malfoy close enough together to touch each other? Bloodshed.

But… if Blaise was right and this weird morbid fear of Potter's death stemmed from a weird morbid physical attraction to Potter... Things would go from bad to worse.

I groaned quietly. I hated people trying to analyse me and yet here I was doing that exact thing to myself.

Tomorrow I would avoid Potter no matter what the consequences. I could not - would not - tolerate any suspicions cast upon my sexuality. If I did not answer questions about my boggart, if I didn't respond to any barbs thrown at me by the golden trio and I didn't draw any unwanted attention to myself in the next few days, hopefully, things would settle down once again.

Of course, I had not counted on the fact that I would dream of Harry Potter that night.

~ O ~

AN: thanks to anyone who left comments!

This is only my second ever story so tips and advice is always welcome (but no flames please!).

Review or Harry and Draco will never get together...