"Harry, you are aware that you've got Transfiguration in less than thirty minutes, right?" Hermione's razor-sharp voice pierced the wonderful silence that occupied Harry's mind. Not even the noises of the Great Hall had been able to penetrate the imaginary bubble of thoughtfulness, but the word 'Transfiguration' had the desired effect. Hermione smiled triumphantly, proud that she'd finally acquired Harry's attention.
"What, less than thirty? Surely, that means ninety-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds?" Harry asked, hoping with every inch of his mind that he was right. He had to pick up his homework in the dormitory and…Oh, shoot, he'd forgotten everything about doing his Transfiguration homework. The blank pages would probably still be lying on his nightstand, totally blank, undone, just like they had the previous day.
He quickly got up from his seat at the Gryffindor table, accidentally slamming his hand against his redheaded best friend's shoulder. Ron looked up, his swollen eyes revealing that he'd been taking a quick nap.
"Transfiguration," Harry muttered while partially running towards the door. Ron let out a flood of extremely inappropriate words and pushed his plate, which had served as a pillow few moments earlier, towards Hermione before following Harry with swift footsteps.
"Grab mine as well, will you," Ron yawned from the doorframe while stretching his long-limbed body. Harry snatched a stack of parchment off of Ron's nightstand and tugged it behind his own.
"How long have we got?" he asked worriedly. His friend looked at his wrist, only to realise that he wasn't wearing a watch.
"Well, didn't 'Mione say that we had thirty minutes?"
"She said less than thirty minutes, whatever that means. And I thought you'd been sleeping?"
"Tried to," Ron corrected him as they both rushed through the common room.
"Whatever. You've got some egg stuck to your forehead," Harry pointed out while pushing the portrait aside.
"Mr. Potter, Mr Weasley." Professor McGonagall's voice was the only sound to be heard in the entire classroom. She's worse than Hermione, Harry thought and looked at Ron, who, for some reason, was waggling his eyebrows like a psycho.
Realising that the eyebrows were not meant for him, he turned around to identify the person who was currently occupying Ron's attention. Lavender Brown met his gaze with a confident smirk.
"You're late," McGonagall said calmly; there was no need for her to shout. Feeling rather humiliated, the two young wizards hurried to their table at the front, seating themselves and letting out two synchronized sighs. Harry threw Ron's blank papers on the table and tried to hide his own in his lap.
"Can I see those pages, Mr. Potter?"
Damn, why'd he thought he could hide such thing from professor McGonagall?
Pretending to be truly surprised that Harry hesitantly handed her blank parchment, the woman sighed and shook her head lightly.
"But, we had a quidditch match yesterday!" Harry whispered, not wanting the whole class to hear his rather pathetic example for an excuse.
"Oh yes, congratulations!" the professor said, clapping her hands in delight as she remembered the result of the match. "But still, Mr. Potter, you should be able to manage both quidditch and your homework. And to show up for classes in time. Detention in my office tonight."
She turned around, her robes billowing her body. A few words appeared on the blackboard, written in McGonagall's tortuous handwriting. But Harry didn't read it.
"I can't believe she didn't look at your papers. They were right in front of her!" he moaned. Ron shrugged with a happy smile, waving enthusiastically at Lavender behind them.
-
Draco absentmindedly scratched down a few sentences in his notebook while studying for tomorrow's Poisons class. Crabbe and Goyle were having a rather violent pillow fight in the same room, and he was sure that if he told them to be quiet one more time, his throat would dry out.
Dried flies, he chanted inside his head, blocking out the groaning and shouting. He didn't need another detention; having to spend his whole evening with McGonagall would be bad enough. Terrifying, even.
"Victory!"
Draco turned around and found Crabbe beating the lying Goyle with his weapon, an upholstered green pillow from an armchair in the common room. The blond sighed in annoyance and slammed his book, making sure that his two friends were aware of his anger. It seemed to work, as they both sat down on the bed they were using as a battlefield.
"What time is it?" he asked bluntly.
"I don't know," Crabbe replied, fighting off the incoming attack from his already defeated adversary.
"Then look at a watch!" Draco snapped and turned around to locate one himself. A quarter past seven.
"Shit!" he shouted, jumping off of his bed gracefully and dashing through the door. He had exactly fifteen minutes to make it to McGonagall's office. Not that it mattered much to him whether he kept the old witch waiting, but his dad wouldn't be happy to hear that he was late for detention. He certainly hadn't been happy about the detention part.
-
"Alright, Potter, if you'll keep practising this spell, I'll go get myself a cup of tea," Minerva McGonagall announced.
"But, why don't you just use that kettle over there, if I may ask?"
"Please don't," the woman replied and flashed one of her rare smiles at him. Trying to figure out where she was heading, certainly not for tea, as the kettle in the corner of the office was already full, Harry had a hard time focusing on the task he'd been given. No way he'd be able to learn an entirely new spell in one evening anyways. Besides, hadn't McGonagall been blushing?
The door behind him slammed open with a loud bang and he turned around, ready to shout at Filch that he was most certainly allowed to be in here.
But it wasn't Filch who entered the room in a rather arrogant way, holding his chin way too high and his back ridiculously straight.
"Malfoy," he greeted, cocking his head to the right. The greeting nearly made Draco tremble in surprise,and he quickly started straightening out his robes.
"Ha- Potter," the other one replied, eyes widening in frustration as he realised he'd almost called his nemesis by his first name. Harry just sat there, looking at him.
"So, the great Potter, in detention?" Draco sniggered while pulling out a chair. The Gryffindor shrugged without saying anything. Realising that his attempt to start an argument had failed, the blond decided to look around.
"What was that about?" Harry asked abruptly, placing his wand at the desk.
"What was what about?"
"Yesterday, at the quidditch match."
"Oh, that.." Draco muttered. He had desperately been trying to forget his idiotic act the previous day. He knew that he'd hurt Harry, it had practically been written all over the boy's face, and he didn't like the thought of it. The whole idea had been ridiculous, a stupid attempt to suppress the struggling feelings inside of him. Suddenly, he felt as if Goyle and Crabbe were wrestling inside his guts. Not knowing what to say, he stared blindly at the numerous books on the shelves surrounding them.
"Where's the professor?" he asked, trying to change to subject.
"She went 'for tea'," Harry replied, making it obvious that he didn't believe this statement. "Besides, you fail at avoiding questions, Draco. Why did you do it?"
Had Potter just called him by his name? A feeling of happiness overwhelmed Malfoy by the sound of Harry's calming voice pronouncing his name without even blinking. They'd never been on first names before.
"I'm not allowed to cheer for Hufflepuff?" Draco asked, a part of him still desperately trying to prove that he did not fancy Harry Potter.
"No, of course you're not."
"What? Why?" The determination in Pot- Harry's voice had surprised him quite a great deal.
"Because you know that I play for Gryffindor. You should cheer for us."
What? The blond looked up, meeting his apparently ex-nemesis' eyes. God, they were beautiful.
"I wanted to…" Draco muttered into his sleeve, letting down all of his carefully built guards. Harry's face lit up instantly, and he leaned a bit closer.
"Really?" he asked while examining the Slytherin's face.
"Absolutely…"
"Then why did you practically choke a boy to prove otherwise?"
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but he suddenly noticed how wonderfully close to him Harry was. Deciding that he'd already embarrassed himself as much as possibly, he pushed aside every thought that told him his actions were horribly wrong.
"Draco, are you g-Mmhpf!" Harry's attempt to speak was instantly silenced by Draco's soft lips pressing against his own. He felt a burning desire, a craving for more, and he intensely kissed back, tangling his fingers in the blond hair. This was how a kiss should be like, this was what had lacked at the quidditch field with Ginny. Both of them got to their feet, letting go of each other for a moment to breathe.
"I.., Erh..." Draco stuttered, but Harry didn't give him time to finish the sentence, he just pushed him backwards against one of McGonagall's shelves. Some of the books fell down, but neither one of them could care any less. The blond threw his arms around Harry's waist as his tongue asked for entrance to the other one's mouth. They stood there for a long moment, letting go of all their frustration, until Harry finally disrupted the connection.
"Holy Goblin," he panted. Draco smiled a crossing between his usual devilish smile and a new one that Harry had never seen before: A gentle one.
"What's your redheaded girlfriend going to think of this?" the Slytherin asked, equally excited and afraid. Perhaps this was just a one-time thing?
"She doesn't have to know. Ron would slaughter me," Harry mumbled as reply. He was way too happy to feel guilty at the moment.
All of a sudden, the door opened with a mild creaking, and Professor McGonagall entered the room.
"Mr. Potter!" she gasped by the sight of the Slytherin squeezed in between Harry and a bookshelf. The black-haired one from her house quickly took a step backwards. He noticed a vague stain of red on her cheeks. Either she'd been running.. or she was blushing again.
"Professor McGonagall!" Harry replied with equal amount of surprise.
"I think this will do for detention," the lady mumbled, shoving each of them through the door. Draco could've sworn he heard her giggle as it closed. But professors didn't giggle.. did they? He felt electricity shoot through his arm as Harry grabbed his hand while strolling down the hallways, feeling sure that nobody was watching. He also felt pretty certainthat he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. And if he did, he knew exactly what he'd dream about.
There we go, Harry + Draco = Looove. :D.. Please let me know what you think, I'll be super duper grateful (:!
