Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews, guys! As always, I loved hearing your opinions on Beneath the Rose. I would've liked to update this earlier, but unfortunately I had a lot of work. I'll stop my ranting now. Enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, as they belong to J. K. Rowling. No money is being made from this.
Summary: AU HBP, HPDM slash. Harry decided to visit Draco in the hospital after the Sectumsempra incident, and finds an unexpected side of the young Slytherin. Realization hits the two of them as they became friends and something more. But time is running out.
Chapter Seven — Delicacy
Harry opened his eyes to find the same old four-post bed. He looked around, and as always, Seamus had managed to wake up before him. But surprising enough, Dean and Neville were gone also, which made Ron the only person still sleeping. Harry felt the weight in his heart loosening a bit. If anyone was going to oppose his relationship with Ginny, it would be him. At least Harry would be spared for the moment.
The boy got up, checked the time, brushed his teeth, changed into his school robes, and was ready to make an appearance in the common room. As suspected, the instant Harry walked down those stairs, all conversations ceased and all eyes were turned to him. Sometimes he wondered if the Boy-Who-Lived's private life was really that interesting. He certainly found his life unremarkablely ordinary, other than the fact that he had survived several times when Voldemort tried to kill him. Dean was the first to look away.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione called, which brought the boy's attention away from the rest of the Gryffindors, "I didn't think you'd figure it out."
"Figure what out?"
Sharpness flickered across Hermione's features, but was hidden again. "You mean you didn't know that Ginny had a crush on you for half a decade?"
"No." The boy was taken aback by surprise. "I had no idea. Did she really?"
"Of course Harry! Why would I lie to you about this kind of thing?" Hermione folded her arms. "Everyone probably, except for Ron and you, knows about it. I'm curious. How did you and Ginny get together?"
"Well, I just began to feel attracted to her, and before I know it, I was looking over to her all the time. After that, my emotions just got out of hand." Harry chuckled at the memory. "But in the end, she was the one who asked me out."
"I'm not surprised. I didn't think you'd ask her out anytime soon, anyways." Hermione nodded her head, but her narrowed eyes told Harry that she had something else in mind.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of his best mate coming down the stairs. Ron turned his head to Harry the moment he stepped away from the stairs. The common room was swept by yet another wave of silence; this was the unavoidable confrontation that everyone waited—almost hoped—for. The two boys stood wordlessly, anticipating the moment that the other would open his mouth. Although the redhead had accepted his and Ginny's relationship grudgingly the night before, Harry still had no idea what to expect from his friend. Maybe Ron had decided to turn down his acceptance after all.
"Harry,"—Ron's voice brought Harry back from his thoughts—"Even though I don't want to give Ginny up to anyone, I trust that you'll take good care of her. Don't disappoint me, mate. If you hurt her, you'll be forever sorry that you dared to think such thoughts."
"I will take care of her, believe me." Harry grinned.
Ron walked over and patted Harry on the shoulder, and grinned back. "Well, I believe it's time for breakfast?"
"All right then," Harry replied, though he could not get over the feeling that his heart was dangling loose inside his chest.
You've hurt her already, Harry. This is just the beginning, the small voice in the back of his head called. Harry ignored it.
No. This is what I want.
The gang of Gryffindors arrived at the Great Hall earlier than usual, though not early enough for the plates on the tables to be empty. Only fifty or so people were seated in the room. Harry walked along until he found his spot, near the middle of the Gryffindor table, and sat down, with Ron and Hermione beside him.
"Ron, could you pass me a glass of pumpkin juice, please?" Harry asked, fixing himself a bowl of cereal.
"Sure." The other boy reached for a cup and handed it over to Harry. "Here you go."
"Thanks." Harry lifted his eyes from his cereal to reach for the cup. Half-way through his motion, his eyes travelled to the figure behind the glass cup. This was one of the rare days when Malfoy showed up for meals. Strangely enough, the blonde sat alone in his seat without the accompaniment of his snobby bodyguards. He was reading a copy of the Daily Prophet while finishing his toast, but somehow Harry had the feeling that he was not actually reading the papers. Without any warnings, Malfoy lifted his head, and his eyes locked onto Harry's, as if he knew all along that Harry was staring at him. The thought send a shiver down Harry's spine. Once again, there was no malice in those grey marbles. Harry could even read the apologies that skimmed across their surface, and he was sure that Malfoy could read his own. But the connection disappeared all too quickly, as the Slytherin looked away.
"Harry, mate, my arms are going to fall off," Harry snapped out of his daze and took the cup.
"Sorry about that," the brunet smiled apologetically, and took a sip from the glass.
As time passed, more and more people joined their House for breakfast. In half an hour, more than half of the students filled the tables. Harry had already finished his meal, and was chatting with Ron and Seamus about Quidditch. Dean was still reluctant to talk to him, but he would comment once in a while.
"Look. It's Ginny," one of the fifth-year called, and triggered the giggling of two other girls sitting beside her. Harry shifted his attention from their Quidditch conversation to the door. Ginny was walking down the table, her hair gliding in the air. Harry could feel the butterflies working in his stomach again, but the reaction was less intense in comparison from the ones he experienced weeks before. She stopped by her usual seat, across from the three giggling girls, but did not sit down. Ginny chatted with her friends for a while, then kept walking, leaving frowns after frowns on the girls' faces. Ginny smiled when she saw Harry looking her way. Her ginger steps stopped between his seat and Ron's. "Ron, could you please move over?"
"Why aren't you sitting with your own friends," Ron grumbled under his breath, but scooted over all the same. Ginny whispered a quiet "thank you" and settled down. Finally, her eyes locked on to his. She leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on Harry's cheeks.
"Good morning, Harry."
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Draco stared at the copy of Daily Prophet in front of him in disinterest. Nothing new; three murders believed to be connected with the Death Eaters, Scrimgeour's public appearance, and the latest celebrity gossips. He was actually more focused on nibbling his toast than reading about them.
The blonde had felt someone's eyes linger on him for quite a while now, and there was only one person in Hogwarts who was bold enough to do that. Eventually, he stopped pretending to read and lifted his head from the papers. Without even a second guess, his eyes landed on Potter. The boy thought in frustration, though he did not let it show. It was getting annoying, the way Potter kept on staring at him like he was some sort of phenomenon. It would be nice, once or twice, just to let Boy Wonder gape at him. But lately, it was getting on his nerves.
Draco recalled memories from last night. Potter had regretted, and he had apologized, the he reminded himself. The blonde let a soft sigh escape from his breath. Just this once, Draco would let the Gryffindor have what he wanted. He let down his barriers and let his emotions slip from underneath his heavy armors. He would never speak of his own regrets, but it would not hurt to show a little. When he felt that he had given enough, Draco shielded his emotions once more and reached for the Daily Prophet, hiding behind the papers to sort his thoughts. It's over, Draco told himself, you don't owe him anything. Life will finally go back to the way it had been.
"Draco," the blonde set the papers aside in relief and looked up to see Blaise and Pansy walking towards him, followed by Nott, Goyle, and Crabbe. "We were wondering where you disappeared to."
"Well, you've certainly found me." Draco folded the papers neatly into a rectangular bundle while the others took their seats. He reached for his cup of water, but found it empty. "Pansy, could you please—"
"Pass you a glass of water? Certainly, Your Majesty." Pansy took a glass from the table and conjured water inside. After filling it to the rim, she passed by Draco's plate. As he retreated the cup, Draco noticed Pansy's ring.
"That's a nice ring."
"Thank you," Pansy held up her hand, partially to examine it herself, but mostly to show it to her peers. "Just an old family heirloom. My Father gave it to me as a present, though I would much prefer one with the latest designs." The ring was made of silver and covered in sophisticated patterns and ornaments. Like most heirlooms that Pure-Blood Slytherin family owned, the ring took the shape of a snake. It wrapped itself around Pansy's ring finger with its head reaching just slightly over her first joint.
"Never mind about the ring, Draco," Blaise spoke, being his usual impatient self. But he could not hide the excitement and urgency ringing in his voice. "You can beg Pansy to show it to you later. It's not like the ring would fly away. Let's talk about what happened last night while your memories are still fresh." The boy leaned forward. "So what did Snape want from you?"
"Can we talk about this somewhere else? This is the Great Hall we're at," Draco said, frowned at Blaise's question.
"That's all right. They won't hear us." Pansy slid the wand into her robe pocket. "I just cast a privacy ward around us. The room isn't too full yet, so just sit down and pretend to eat your breakfast. No one should suspect." The gang obeyed.
"Back to the question, Draco," Blaise took some bacon into his plate, and spoke without looking up at Draco. "What did Snape want?"
"The usual," Draco answered, taking a sip from the glass. "The task."
"And your answer?" The blonde suppressed his urge to glare at Blaise.
"What else would I tell him, other than 'fuck off'." Forgive me, Draco apologized secretly for using such foul language while talking about his God Father, but it must be done.
"Did you really tell him that?" Crabbe asked innocently.
Draco shut his eyes to stop himself from rolling it instead. Sometimes he wondered why he's still talking to that blob of fat. "No, of course I didn't. That was a hyperbole."
"What's a hyperbole?"
"Crabbe, just go eat your breakfast," Blaise sighed, and only felt safe to turn around when he saw Crabbe start to devour his third bowl of cereal. "Anything else?"
"Nope. That's it." The blonde picked a biscuit from the plate and took a bite. This was not the first time he had to lie to them, and it was likely not going to be the last. After all, two cannot keep a secret. Besides, he was sure that their friends must have kept many secrets from him themselves.
"Funny how he asks the same question over and over every time." Draco's eyes gleamed with eagerness, but thankfully his head was lowered slightly to ensure that his expressions were not seen. If anyone could analyze a situation, Theodore Nott would be the one. "He must be determined to find out your secrets, Draco, and it is likely that he will pursue this goal by force." The blonde listened intently. "Do remember that he is a Potions master. He may very well resort to using his most powerful weapons. Something strong—perhaps common—but not deadly," Nott glanced up, a gesture that would seem casual to anyone sitting around them, "A Truth Serum, perhaps."
"There's over a dozen Truth Potions. There is no way I could prepare against them all, plus some of them don't even have antidote."
"You'll just have to be careful when he's alone with you. I doubt he will try to use them on you during any other time. Watch your own back."
"Thanks. I will keep that in mind." A small smile touched his lips. "I guess this is what you call Slytherin team work."
Theo smiled back and stood up, signaling Pansy to end the spell. "I'll go get my books."
Draco remained lost in thoughts. If Severus had indeed thought about using such tactics, he would have done so much earlier. Was he planning to let the blonde speak the words himself, or does he not care enough about the details to act yet? He should probably take the precaution anyways, just in case anything unexpected happens. One cannot be too careful after all. "I should get going too," the blonde said to the others while taking another biscuit from the plate, "wouldn't miss anything in the world for Potions."
As he stood up to leave, Draco noticed Ginny Weasley from the corner of his eyes. She walked up to two girls, whom he recognized as her companies when he bumped into them in the hallways. She continued down the table, and Draco's eyes fallowed her, suddenly aroused by his curiosities. Looking a few steps down, he noticed Potter's gaze—not staring at him this time, but at the redhead. Draco frowned, that's strange. I don't usually see her around the Golden Trio. The girl looked over at Potter without prior warning and closed in the distance between them until their lips touched. There was a strange lurch inside his stomach that made him both anxious and bitter, something almost close to envy. Envy? Why would it be envy, or all emotions? Draco snorted; he had no reason to put She-Weasel on the list of people he might compare himself with, not to mention envying her.
"What is it, Draco?" Pansy asked, looking at him in an unexplainably weird way. This was only one out of half a million times she has looked at him like this, but it was probably the closest that Draco had come to wanting to seal her mouth and store her away in a closet. He flexed a muscle on his arm instead, which had, thankfully, been hidden behind his robes. Pansy, realizing that the blonde had been looking in the distance, turned her head. "Is that Weasley I see kissing Potter?" she noted with distaste. Draco barely resisted the temptation to stab her with a knife. "Well, this scandal will last for more than a while."
"Yes, I think so." With that, Draco displayed his perfected sneer at the Gryffindor couple, and marched out of the Great Hall, but somehow that sneer left a sense of brokenness that he could not quite understand.
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"I can't believe Ginny did that!" Ron had been blabbing on about the same thing over and over again as the gang of three walked down from the Gryffindor Tower to their first class. "Snogging you in front of the whole school. Don't you play innocent with me, mate. You could've stopped this embarrassment."
"For heaven's sake, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes for the fourth time. "They were the ones snogging. If anyone should feel embarrassed, it would be them, not you."
The trio entered the classroom, followed by a wave of silence. Harry knew it well. It was the same silence displayed during his second year when he had been suspected of being the heir of Salazar Slytherin. Slowly, conversations returned as the Gryffindors seated. Minutes later, Nott and Malfoy ambled into the room. The students once again shut their mouths, watching—waiting. Sensing the sudden change in atmosphere, Harry looked up and caught sight of them. The blonde glanced lazily over to the front, where the Gryffindors sat, and curved his lips in a mocking way. Harry tried to search Malfoy's eyes, like he had early, to find any trace of reason, but the brunet could not find his answer. The stormy grey orbs only seemed darker and colder, and more distant all at once. This was not the same Malfoy he saw in the Great Hall.
"Well, well, well." The blonde dropped his books and bag onto his desk casually, raising his chin as he spoke. "Once again, Famous Harry Potter offhandedly became the centre of all attention. Sometimes I wonder how you manage to hit the bull's-eye every time." Malfoy pretended to be in deep thought. "Ah yes, how could I forget? Boy-Who-Lived, Chosen One, Boy Wonder…. All those titles must have weighed quite a bit to bend the arrow." The Slytherins sniggered as always as a sign of support. The grin on the blonde's face broadened, and he took several steps forward. "Everyone thought Cho Chang would be the last girl for you—" There was more sniggering, but Malfoy ignored the interruption. "—but after hearing the news today, I think you broke the hearts of a number of witches. And even wizards." The room roared with laughter; even the Ravenclaws could not suppress their giggles. The Golden Trio kept their solemn gaze on Malfoy, who raised his head up in triumph. "Oh, I almost forgot to ask. How is it with the She-Weasel? I bet you had loads of fun considering how open she seems to be—"
"Malfoy shut your mouth! You are in no position to talk to my sister like that!" Ron slammed his hands onto his desk, causing some of the ingredients to shift from their spots. The laughter came to an abrupt halt, and all gazes fell on him. Malfoy lowered his head, turning his attention to Ron in a slow, lazy motion.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the blonde drawled. "I didn't see you there. In fact, I don't think you have the capability to attend this class at all."
"That does it!" Ron fumbled through his robes for his wand. "You'll be sorry you ever let those words leave your filthy mouth! Sectum—"
"No Ron!" Harry grabbed hold of Ron's wanded hand and forced it down. All the while, Malfoy looked at them impassively like the night he had when Ron punched him.
"Harry, he just insulted my sister! I can't let him get away with it!" Ron hissed between grinding teeth.
"Ron, calm down. Violence won't solve anything!" Hermione said urgently. "Stop and think! You hurt Malfoy, and you'll have to face the consequences, which may include getting expelled. Do you really want that?" The brunette kept their eye contact as he spoke, as if she could restrain him with her gaze alone. After a moment, Ron sighed and lowered his wand.
"I'll deal with you later, Malfoy."
The blonde responded with a smug smile.
Slughorn entered just then. He greeted the students while writing instructions on the board. Class became yet another brewing session, which Harry began to take interest in the last two days. He still could not achieve the excellent potions he brewed when he had the Half-Blood Prince's book, but he was getting better at it. Brewing potions is definitely the more preferable option compared to taking notes. But today, Harry found that he had to constantly force himself to focus. His mind kept on drifting off. He was sure that Malfoy had accepted his apologies during breakfast when they locked eyes, but he also knew that the insult was mean for him, not Ron. Maybe Malfoy saw it a necessity that an insult should be hurled at him to show that things were back to the way they used to be, but it seemed too acid and bitter to be the real reason. He lingered on that thought for a moment longer, before moving to chopping his roots.
Class went by quickly enough. Harry's potion, as expected, earned him a shake of the head from Slughorn. Hermione looked at him with an expression that read "I am disappointed; I thought you could do better". He did manage to shove this mind back in place half-way through the class though, but it seemed that it was a bit too late; the damage done to his potion was already irreversible. As he packed his things, Harry noticed Malfoy moving towards the door. God knew why he was still paying attention to Malfoy when that bloody no-good ferret had just insulted Ginny. Ironically, there was barely any string of anger dangling on his mind; though looking at the blonde brought the whole event back. Harry blinked, and willed himself to think about his Herbology essay. There would not be much progress in thinking about it. He had no idea as to what triggered Malfoy's abrupt change in attitude and probably never will. All he knew was that he played no part in provoking Malfoy's ego.
But that still did not explain the odd knots patterning in his stomach.
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"Harry, are you coming?"
"Just a second."
"Mate, we're going to leave without you!"
"I said I was coming," Harry called from above the stairs, and stepped down just in time to catch the frown on Ron's face.
"You take more time than a girl!"
"Hey!" Hermione jabbed Ron in the ribs, making him groan in pain.
"I didn't mean you 'Mione," Ron said as he rubbed his side.
"Then I guess you're implying that I'm not one."
"Lovebirds, lovebirds. Break it up now." Seamus took a step forward. Hermione sighed and turned away. Ron though, looked as innocent as ever, like he had just been falsely accused of stealing cookies. Sometimes Harry wonders how he pulls it off every single time.
"First things first. And at the moment, that would be dinner." Seamus turned around and pushed Hermione out of the portrait hole.
"Hey, Finnigan! Get your hands off of my girl!" Gryffindors marched out of the common room one by one while they chuckled quietly at Ron's remark
"Ron, learn to share!" Seamus replied, only to receive a glare from both Ron and Hermione. "All right, I'll back off now. It's all yours, Weasley." Seamus bowed, and moved back in the group to talk to Dean.
As the group reached the Ground Floor, Harry felt a sharp tap on his left shoulder that made him whirl around. "Ginny! You scared the hell out of me." The boy relaxed—he did not even notice that his muscles had been tense in the first place. "I didn't see you back in the common room. Where were you?"
"Preparing," Ginny answered simply.
"For?"
"It's a surprise. For you."
"Oi, Harry! Quit snogging with Ginny there. Are you coming or not?" Ron called before entering the Great Hall.
"No he's not. He's coming with me!" Ginny replied, smiling. "Now go inside and sit right beside Hermione." Ron flushed at her comment. "Don't worry. Take your time; I will be borrowing Harry for quite a while." She flashed a quick smile at Harry and pulled him down the stairs.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, despite the familiarity of the route. Ginny was leading him down to the kitchen. The boy, though, thought it wise not to mention anything. If he said anything now, it would ruin the surprise.
"You'll see," Ginny answer without turning back. There was a sense of urgency that rang in her tone, a slight quiver that flickered on her tongue when she spoke. It was not quite excitement nor eagerness, but something close to nervousness.
As Harry expected, they reached the painting with the bowl of fruits. Ginny extended her hand to tickle the pears in the centre and the door to the kitchen immediately swung open.
The room was different from yesterday. The lights had been dimmed, and there were no house-elves working by the tables. They stepped in slowly, partly because it was so dark, but Harry knew that Ginny wanted him to take the time and guess what was to come; she did not even bother to cast "Lumos".
But Harry noticed that someone else had.
The ray of light came from the corner of the kitchen and flickered every few seconds. Clearly, whoever cast it did not put much strength into the spell. The wand that held the white glow stationary was suddenly put to motion. Whoever had been there had noticed their entrance. The master of the voice whispered something too quite for Harry to hear, and suddenly the candles flared to life.
Standing in the middle of the room was Draco Malfoy himself.
"Ah," the blonde drawled. "Evening, Potter,"—he turned to look at Ginny—"Weasley. Am I intruding a very private moment?"
"What are you doing here?" Ginny ignored Malfoy's question and demanded while narrowing her eyes at the same time. Harry did not like that particular expression on her face. It made her look too obnoxious.
The blonde sighed dramatically. "If I could recall, there is no such rule that prevents students from accessing the kitchen at Hogwarts. Well, if I'd somehow mistaken, then you two shouldn't be here either." This time, Malfoy's eyes lifted from Ginny's and moved to Harry's. "Or do you think you have some special authority to overlook the rules, being the Boy-Who-Lived?"
"Shut up, Malfoy," Ginny snapped.
"I can see why you two are dating," Malfoy spoke in his lazy tone.
"Just leave us alone!"
"It's my freedom to stay where I want to, unless you want to threaten, curse, or kill me. In that case, you'll have to face worse consequences than just a few insults." Ginny opened her mouth to retort but shut it when she could not find her words. Malfoy smiled haughtily.
Harry opened his mouth this time. "Malfoy—"
"But I never said I will stay," the blonde cut him off before anything other than his name emerged. "I don't like to invade other people's privacy, nor do I respect those who invade mine." His gaze lingered on Harry briefly, which was meant to remind him of the incident that happened in the boy's washroom. The memories did indeed came back to his mind, making Harry flush at the recollection, though the light in the room was still dim enough to conceal it. "I wouldn't want to occupy your time for too long. I understand that we're all very…busy people." Ginny clenched her fists at the implication. "Well, enjoyed the night." With that, the Slytherin glided across the room and brushed past them to leave the kitchen. The door swung close as he exited, but the echo of his footsteps could still be heard.
Ginny let out a deep breath, as if someone had lifted ten pounds off her shoulders. "Come on, Harry. Don't let Malfoy bother you. Here, I want to show you something." She strode quickly to the Gryffindor table and Harry followed behind. Clean dishes were piled up on one area the table, and dirty ones would appear in another, but there was one section that stood empty. Ginny motioned Harry to sit down, and clapped her hand twice. Almost instantly, there was a small pop and Dobby stood beside her (the house-elf barely managed to hold a squeak from escaping). Harry looked from the Dobby to Ginny, then back, astonished.
"You two are…friends with each other?"
"It's a long story," Ginny said, smiling. "Dobby, could you please bring out the food?"
"Certainly." The house-elf snapped his fingers, and the empty space on the wooden table was replaced by dishes of all colours.
"Whoa, Gin. What's this for? It's not my birthday today." Harry was even more astonished now.
"We are dating, aren't we?" Ginny smiled playfully. "After all, dining is a part of that. And since we couldn't leave Hogwarts to go to an actual restaurant in Hogsmead, the kitchen was our best option. I mean, the food here isn't bad, either."
"No. Not bad at all." Harry smiled in response. Ginny held her glass of butterbeer up in the air.
"To a wonderful relationship."
"A wonderful relationship." Harry raised his and moved the glass forward until the two rims produced a light click, then moved it back to take a sip. The butterbeer trailed down his throat and left sweetness mingled with a touch of bitterness from the alcohol.
"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's dig in."
The two took their time to eat; they were too occupied with talking than actually taking in food. Their conversation ranged from everyday small things to more random and personal subjects. Ginny would make remarks here and there that made Harry laugh or make a face, and Harry would do the same. The few moments between conversations were reserved for chewing and, in Harry's case, letting the guilt inside of him claw at his conscious. The boy felt bad for disturbing Malfoy's meal—he was sure this time that it was a meal and not a snack—and driving him away. Images of last night's encounter flickered across his mind, which made him even more guilty and sympathetic towards the blonde. Harry had wanted to tell Malfoy that he and Ginny would leave, but the stubborn git had seemed too proud to even accept that. The boy sighed. I shouldn't be feeling guilty. I didn't tell him to walk out; it was his choice to do that. Despite his efforts to shove his guilt away, it kept coming back to him.
"Harry." The boy shook his head and looked up to find Ginny staring at him with knitted brows.
"Hmm? Sorry, I was thinking about something. You were saying?"
"You seem really distracted lately." The frown on her face deepened.
"So I was told," Harry answered casually, and popped a piece of chicken in his mouth.
"If multiple persons tell you the same thing, you should probably consider thinking about it rather than just let it pass."
"I think you should consider taking up the role of my mother instead of my girl friend," the boy teased.
"In that case, Harry James Potter, I'll gladly act like one." Ginny snaked her hands behind his head and closed in the distance between them, placing a light, soft kiss beside his lightning-like scar. Harry shut his eyes as the skin on his forehead tingled. It was a nice feeling—the warmth of Ginny's lips on his skin. Even if he had little memories of Lily Potter, he was sure that that was a mother's kiss.
Then Ginny trailed down Harry's nose bridge with small kisses, all the way until her lips reached the tip of Harry's nose, where the last kiss was planted. Harry opened his eyes when he felt the warmth leaving his skin. Ginny looked back at him, smiling, as if expecting just that moment. "I'll be stepping out of character in the next few minutes." She leaned in again, but this time their lips touched. Harry quivered slightly, and his eyelids fell shut almost instantly. The kiss was nothing like the one he shared with Cho in his fifth year; it was much softer and definitely more natural. Something was still absent from the picture, though. Something important. Harry indulged himself further into the kiss, trying to unearth the missing element. The word lingered in his mind, but it did not actually take shape. He had to finally give up when his lungs ran out of air to support his processing mind, and pulled away. Harry smiled at Ginny when he opened his eyes, and found the same little curve hanging on her lips. Maybe it's because it's our first time. I'm sure whatever is missing will show itself eventually.
Maybe, the voice in the back of his head said, cynical as ever.
Shut up. Don't ruin the perfect moment.
"That was…nice," Ginny's grin broadened. Harry immediately knew what she wanted. He leaned in to give her another kiss. This time, he was prepared.
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Of all people, Potter and Weasley had to show up, Draco thought angrily as he whispered the password to the common room. Not during any other time, but during my precious meal time. The only reason he deprived himself by going to the kitchen to eat was so that he could block the words "Harry Potter" and "Ginny Weasley" from entering his ears—he was sure that everyone would be talking about it in the Great Hall. These two most unwanted people just had to budge their little heads into my personal space and drive me away.
Keep telling yourself that. They didn't drive you away. You chose to leave, his conscious corrected him. Draco bit his lower lips, failing to come up with a retort for the last comment. No, he was not told to leave the kitchen. In fact, he knew perfectly well that he had intended to stay there and insult She-Weasel and her mate just so he could aggravate her. But Potter had chosen specifically that moment to step in. His next words would not have mattered, whether he wanted Draco to stay or not. Draco would still be fighting a losing battle. The blonde could not care one bit about the fact that his exit looked more like an escape than anything. Pride mattered less in a situation like this. He just needed to get away from Potter and Weasley, anyway possible.
Barely anyone was in the common room at this time; most of them were still enjoying their meals. The blonde pushed such thoughts away to prevent any growls from escaping. He could not afford to embarrass himself, even if there were only four people in the room.
He made his way to his dormitory and, as expected, no one was there either. The boy marched to the drawer by his four-post bed and took out a small, round vial containing a deep-blue liquid—Dreamless Sleep Potion. Draco had tried many potions over the last few days to subside the effects of his hallucinations, and out of all of them, this seemed to be the most effective one. At least now he would not worry about waking in the middle of the night from a nightmare. He uncorked the glass and drained the content in a single gulp. The blonde then kicked off his shoes and climbed onto bed. He pulled the blanket over himself and remembered something that had been forgotten in his mind. With hesitation, Draco reached for a second drawer and took out the sword-shaped pendant. He laid his head on the pillow to examine the smooth lines that carved out his name and felt a sudden stab of pain in his chest. The letters looked thicker and bolder than he had remembered, but that could easily have been a trick of his eyes. He could feel the potion taking effect now, making his eyelids heavier and heavier, and the boy finally gave in and closed them altogether. He could feel the painful throbs getting hazier until he felt them no more.
The silver pendant rested firmly between his fingers as Draco slept.
