A/N: Ughh... err.... hm.... well, I'll rant later... now just, READ! And yes, keysintertwinedinabondofflame, now you can get to sleep! ;) *blush* I hope you enjoy...Extra warning: If thou not like slash, thou shalt not read onwards!
Reminder-disclaimer: All these poor characters are J. K. Rowling's, I'm just having fun and being a fan. :)
10.
Harry kept his hand in his pocket and walked inside the library. He took the first book he got into his hands and walked into a far corner behind the shelves so that no-one in the room would see him. Then he pulled the envelope out of his pocket. He felt his hand shiver a little and cursed at it half-aloud. What was he? A first year girl?
He opened the book he had taken and put the envelope on it so that he could pretend he was just reading the book then he slowly ripped the envelope open and pulled the little peace of paper out, careful not to make any suspicious noise.
For a moment he held the paper folded and then opened it.
It said: "What did you expect?" written in McGonagall's handwriting.
Harry grunted, feeling disappointed. What was this? "What did you expect"? He frowned at the paper. What was he expecting? Well something like "Potter is good at being stupid, Potter looks nice when he blows up his potion, Potter is great fun when he trips and falls", that's what he was expecting! Stupid McGonagall for doing this stupid -
Right then when he was thinking that, the writing changed. It now asked: "What did you hope?"
Harry stared at the piece of paper, baffled. So it was a test of some sort? Did McGonagall hear his thoughts? No, Harry decided. He remembered Hermione once saying that spying someone's thoughts was criminal in the wizarding world and under heavy restrictions. The paper was probably just charmed so that it would first show the "what did you expect"-question and then after a while turn into "what did you hope". Or perhaps it could have some sort of sensor that knew if the person holding it was thinking about the question and answering it. That sounded like something McGonagall would do.
"You're avoiding the answer", someone said from behind Harry and made him jump.
"What!" He yelped, whirling around quickly and slamming the book closed, hiding the paper between the pages and almost dropping the whole thing. Right in front of him stood - of course, who else could it be? - Draco Malfoy, cool and confident as ever, leaning his back to one of the huge bookshelves. He had been right behind Harry for god knows how long. Harry felt the familiar feeling of roller-skating butterflies sweep over him when he saw his arch nemesis stare at him with a slight self-confident grin on his lips. Looking sexy … way too sexy …
"Why did you have to sneak up on me like that!" Harry said angrily, his heart still pounding from the fright - though it probably wasn't going to slow down its speed as long as Malfoy was looking at him like that and looking like the arrogant sex beast he was. Clearing his throat, Harry reminded himself that this was the real Malfoy, not the one in his dreams. Again, he felt like a fly stuck on a spider net. Trapped staring at his doom.
"Because, my dear Pot-head, I like it when you get all scared and uncomfortable. It's very ... entertaining." He smirked at the Gryffindor who tried his best to look angry instead of uncomfortable. "Now aren't you at all curious about what I wrote to you?" The blonde asked, tilting his head with a very disarming look on his face.
"What do you mean? I was just reading school stuff! Get lost!" Harry tried, showing the book he had been holding like something very precious.
"Natürlich. Aber ich weisst nicht das du Deutch lesen könntest", Malfoy said, smirking.
"What?" Harry stared at him baffled. How did that git manage to sound sexy in any language?
"It's auf Deutch. You're book is in German. I didn't know you were a language man." The blonde boys grin widened when Harry looked at the book and looked surprised.
"Well I'm not. I'm just trying to get rid of you before I have to punch you", he said, hoping that he could muster a more angry reply to the gorgeous Slytherin. Actually, he was hoping that he'd dare to at least stare back at him, but he couldn't. He felt his face paint itself as red as a London Double-Decker if he so much as glanced at him. He kept on staring at the book cover. Harrys comment about punching him seemed to amuse Malfoy. He wouldn't be so entertained about it if he knew what I really want to do to him, Harry pondered, mentally frowning at the idea of how horrified Malfoy would look after he'd jump him.
"Übersetzen die Hexerei" What was that supposed to mean anyway, Harry thought angrily at the stupid book that had betrayed him.
"Come on, read the damn thing already" Malfoy said after a moment of waiting "I want to see your face when you do." He stepped closer to Harry who felt the space between the shelves was too small for both of us even if Malfoy was seemingly trying to look innocent, his both hands stuffed in his pockets and looking almost friendly - though he failed to suppress the wolfish grin.
"Why?" Harry tried to win time and think of a way out of the situation. What had he written? Something bad? Harry remembered McGonagall's expression when she had read the parchment. Oh dear, it had to be something really really bad. Or something really good, the consciously ignored-part-of-his-brain reminded, with quite a lot of suggestive winking and nudging.
Harry stopped his thoughts and pushed them away. Seriously, his thoughts were winking and nudging at him? He had a scitzophrenic feeling.
"Just because. You should've seen my face when I was reading your writings." Malfoy gave a soft laugh "I didn't know you'd even recognize ballet from fox, let alone see who's good at it. I take it you saw me in the Yule ball, then?" the blonde boy chuckled to himself "Does Saint Potter have other secret interests apart from watching people dance?" Harry felt his cheeks flush even more.
No, no no no no "Saint Potter" did NOT have any other secret interests, no he didn't! When he lifted his head from the book he realized that Malfoy had stepped even closer. No secret interests, Harry reminded his thoughts that were running very wild. They didn't listen to him. The bastard seemed to enjoy his new game of invading Harry's personal space. How did he know it was just the worst thing he could do? Hmm, it of course could be the fact that whenever Malfoy closed on him, he literally and very visibly jumped away or if he was trapped, he just froze and started acting like a brain dead flobberworm.
"Come on now", Malfoy said with a soft, dark, persuading voice that made Harry want to do anything he'd ask. Anything. "Open it and read - or are you scared, Potter?" He added his trademark question as a whisper. Harry visibly shuddered at the sound of his voice and the challenging look Malfoy gave him. He could feel the heat of the other's body, so close, too close, if he could just - wait, no no no! Harry felt his body responding to the thoughts of his dreams last night. If this was karma, then he must've been a mass murderer in his previous life.
There was only one way Harry could answer to "Scared, Potter?" though, and that was of course...
"You wish", Harry snorted - or tried to, since it sounded more like a weak whimper - and opened the book. What did it matter if Malfoy saw him read it, he was the one who wrote it anyway, he thought and took the paper from the book.
The paper still said "What did you hope?" and Harry thought he must have guessed right: he'd need to answer it first.
"You have to answer out loud", Malfoy told him.
"No I don't, the first question disappeared with just thinking about the answer", Harry said, fearing that Malfoy was right. Then he'd definitely not do this here.
But the other boy seemed uncertain "I guess your thoughts are louder than mine", he said shrugging.
Harry looked back at the question. "What did you hope?" What had he hoped? He hadn't really had time to think about that when he was figuring out his plan to spy on Malfoy. The traitorous part of his mind had an answer, but Harry blocked it. Of course he'd hope that it would say something nice and innocent such as "Potter is good in Quiddich".
He stared at the paper but it didn't change.
"Try harder. And be honest", Malfoy advised. He had moved to stand next to Harry so that he could see when the text would change. Harry shivered again when he heard him speaking so near. It was really starting to bug him, having that annoyingly hot person so close in a deserted corner of a very empty and silent library. Then he turned his attention to the piece of parchment and decided to just get it over with.
You have to be honest... He could hear the other boy breathing next to him and felt that he was staring, waiting. He tried to clear his head of all the not-so-innocent thoughts and concentrate on answering the parchment. Be truthful. The truth was, of course, that he was hoping that it would have something ... not just nice, but very nice. There, I said it, Harry mentally frowned at his evil sub-consciousness. It smiled back at him and winked again.
"Maybe you should try to s-", Malfoy started, but then fell silent when he saw the question change and reveal the list of complements. The blonde boy smiled dangerously and started staring at his arch nemesis' face. Harry didn't notice this while he admired the smooth handwriting while it appeared and, feeling exited, started to read:
Harry is fun to be with.
Harry is good-looking.
Harry is strong.
He lifted an eyebrow to the first one, both eyebrows at the second one and looked baffled at Malfoy after reading the third one. The Slytherins face didn't give any clue on what he had meant with that. He just stared back at Harry, seemingly looking for a sign of his reaction. For a moment neither spoke and they just stood there, face to face. Harry felt utterly puzzled. Then Malfoy stepped yet an inch closer and spoke.
"So, what did you think about it?" he asked, speaking softly and trying to suppress a malicious grin when he noticed Harry shifting uncomfortably, trying not to back up from the "enemy" but clearly wanting to just run for it.
"What did you think about it", Harry threw the question back and mentally frowned when he felt his voice was trembling. Why couldn't he act normally? Why did he have to have this unfair, unwanted, unwise, unreasonable affection? Why did he even talk to this boy, this - this becoming Death Eater, this bully?
Oh, right. Because Malfoy had come to talk to him and Harry just couldn't walk away from him, that's why.
"Isn't that what I wrote there? Read it again, that's what I think", Malfoy said.
"Y- you - why do you think I'm strong?" Harry blurted out. Actually he would've wanted to know if Malfoy really thought he was good-looking and fun to be with (though the bastard probably meant that Harry was fun to fight with and fun to mock), but didn't dare to ask.
"You've fought the Dark Lord for, what, three - four times? And here you still are. That alone makes you strong in my books", Malfoy said, seemingly honest.
"Well in my books it makes me a quick runner and a good dodger rather than strong. And lucky as hell", Harry said, feeling still amazed at Dracos answer.
"Hah, I wanted to add ´modest´ there too, but McGonagall only wanted three compliments", Malfoy said with a soft laugh. Then his voice became lower and softer and - for the lack of a better (stronger) word - more intense when he asked again: "But seriously, Potter, what did you think about it?"
Harry was starting to feel really really really hot and bothered and feverishly wondered, what could Malfoy really want from him. The other boy stepped even closer to him so that trying to avoid the touch, Harry bumped into the bookshelves behind him and when Malfoy trapped him there by leaning his hands on the shelves both sides of his prey, Harry's heart started jumping pirouettes (bigger ones than before). Why couldn't someone just walk to this shelve to find a book about Übersetzen die Hexerei and see them so that Malfoy would stop this - this -! Harry was seriously panicking. His traitorous body wanted to lean closer to the Slytherin and he had to mentally struggle to keep his back firmly against the book shelves.
"What do you think, Harry?" Malfoy asked. His voice sounded demanding and soft at the same time. Oh, the torture, he thought. The object of his wildest dreams was almost so close that if he took a deep breath, their bodies would touch. Harry knew he squirmed visibly, but if he wouldn't get away from this situation, he was sure he'd do something very unwise. Malfoy's question still lingered in the air and the questioning stare told Harry that he had better answer soon and not lie. Harry wasn't sure if Malfoy meant what he thought (hoped) he meant and he wasn't sure which way he wanted it to be.
"The ... compliments ... were ... nice ..." he finally mumbled slowly, staring at his tormentor eyes wide with confusement which just got worse with the next question.
"So you liked them?" Malfoy asked and when Harry nodded, he continued, leaning in a little closer to his classmate "And you didn't mind hearing them from me?" and when Harry slowly shook his head, the blonde boy smiled so maliciously that it made Harry just want to run away, very fast and very far.
But he didn't. He couldn't.
Malfoy seemed to enjoying tremendously having Harry there, trapped both physically and emotionally between himself and the bookshelves. Harry knew that if it had been any other Slytherin or any other person in the world (duh, even You-Know-Who!), he would've already cursed or punched his head off and walked away. Harry Potter wasn't the type of a person who could be trapped just like that with his wand at the ready in his pocket. And Harry also knew that Malfoy knew that. Harry wondered what Malfoy thought was the reason for his incapability to escape. When he looked at the other boys sext-scary-evil-devil grin, he knew that whatever Malfoy thought it was he liked the power he had over him.
Then Malfoy's grin suddenly faded when he seemed to remember something. Harry could almost see the question from the other boy's eyes before he voiced it out.
"Why were you talking with Flint?" Malfoy asked, sounding annoyed and stepping a little further away, still keeping his hands on the bookshelves on Harry's both sides. Harry could hear the trademark-Malfoy-cold-bastard-arrogance again in the words and for a second he wondered when had Draco stopped using it.
"I was j-just ...", Harry breathed heavily under the strong gaze and couldn't make up a good lie. Malfoys next question completely surprised him.
"Are you two having a fling?" The other boy asked, sounding serious and a little angry.
"What? No!" Harry blurted out hastily, feeling even more confused. Why had Malfoy cornered him and questioned about Flint? Had he heard something? Was he suspecting Harry planning to spy on him? Or was he seriously thinking Harry would have a thing for Flint? Harry gulped at that: it would mean Malfoy knew he was gay and if he did know, it was only a matter of time when the Daily Prophet would have it on their front page.
"Good. I didn't think Flint was your type anyway", Malfoy said with a strange look on his face, clearly relaxing. Harry guessed his face had shown his confusement and honest amazement at the question since Malfoy had believed him.
"Why would you think about who is my type anyway? It's got nothing to do with you", Harry said, trying to sound angry and annoyed (and very very straight).
"Oh, I think it is my business, very much so. You know, Potter, you need to know your enemies…" he murmured, still staring at Harry.
Since when had Malfoy started using Muggle phrases? Suddenly George's words from earlier came into his mind: "And there's also a saying that goes ´keep your friends close, but enemies closer´" Being literally kept so close to his enemy, Harry had to give a laugh at the irony of the situation. He chuckled out loud.
"What's so funny, Potter?" Malfoy asked quickly, eyeing him suspiciously.
"You and Muggle sayings" Harry answered, gaining a questioning rise of an eyebrow. For a moment he almost allowed himself to enjoy being there, trapped by Malfoy just like in so many of his dreams. Answering to his captor's confused look he decided to explain himself, feeling almost comfortable about situation because of the funny topic "You've never heard of the saying ´keep your friends close, but enemies closer´, have you?" He said with a little laugh, lifted an amused eyebrow and looked from the one captivating arm to another, making his message clear.
"I haven't. But I like it", Malfoy said, leaning closer to Harry his evil grin widening. When they now were mare millimetres from touching, Harry wished he had just shut up. Or well, just the rational part of his brain hoped so. The rational part that was on its way packing and leaving his mind.
Malfoy eyed his prey with an intense calculating look that scared the hell out of Harry who couldn't but keep his eyes at his arch nemesis. Then Malfoy smiled once again his worst malicious grin and leaned in, letting their bodies touch but just before their noses hit each other, he tilted his head and bit the shocked Gryffindor's ear. When the blonde boy felt and heard a sharp gasp, he bit him again, a little softer and then quickly stepped back releasing his prisoner and looked at him from head to toe.
Harry's heart felt like thunder and his breath was ridiculously unstable. All he could do was lean back to the book shelves, hard, eyes shut tight, hands desperately gripping the shelves keeping him from fainting. He had just had a heart attack. He had just fallen from the end of the world. He carefully opened his eyes to see his arch nemesis standing few steps away before him, hands in his pockets, but not even trying to look innocent. When he noticed Harry looking at him, he flashed him the most scary smile a Malfoy can do. Harry wasn't sure how to call it but it clearly said "come here and I'll eat the rest of you". Then he lifted an eyebrow (looking far too sexy to be legal) and turned to walk away. At the end of the corridor of book shelves, he turned around and said (far too loudly for Harry's liking) "See you around, Potter." His words didn't echo in the almost-empty library, but they did in Harry's head. He turned his head to stare at the long line of books ahead him.
He had just been bitten by Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. And it had felt so good. So goddamned good.
A/N: Hehe… I sure hope you like it, really I do. And since I'm such a sensitive poor thing, please tell me if you did! I'm afraid dear Draco sounds too … um … ooc or weird or … well, but I do have explanations ready for just about all of his odd behavior, I'm just wondering if it sounds terribly weird to you? And I haven't changed British over the night so once again I'm very sorry if my beautifully creative spelling and grammar disturbs you!
The next chapter is on its way but the start in it ended up coming so horribly pressing that I got totally depressed and had to start listening to some good music and harass my personal Percy to get it out of my mind. So I might have problems shaping it up, but let's see.
Anyway, do you like the direction we're going? Any suggestions?