Harry Potter in Love
Scene Ten
We can see Draco Malfoy helping Lady Parkinson out of the carriage. He offers her quite gentlemanly his arm, to which she clings onto immediately. Prince Malfoy waves the carriage away and then leads Lady Parkinson to the park. There, they walk over the neatly paved path, going through an even more neatly arranged park.
Draco hates it.
Back home at Slytherin Palace, all the gardens are just the same. Secretly, Draco preferred to stay at the Malfoy Mansion. There, to the eye, the gardens were all neat, nice and tamed like here… but behind those were the real gardens.
They were wild, vicious and highly dangerous. No gardener was allowed to the place; the last who tried to enter had been eaten by a rare giant flesh eating plant, though how that particularly plant had gotten there, only Merlin knows.
Thus, all kinds of plants grew there, with the small ones being smothered by the others, some even eating the animals. Insects eating birds was also not a rare thing to see there.
Draco absolutely adored walking through this place where Survival of the Fittest was taken to the extreme. The only problem was that when he did so, he would arrive back at the palace all full of bruises, cuts, scrapes and dirt. And this was mostly followed by a stern preach from his father who was very 'disappointed' in him for forgetting his princely commitments.
Draco shakes his head slightly to get rid of these thoughts and glances at the girl besides him, clearly wondering how to get rid of her
She notices him watching her and smiles flirtingly, hanging even more on his arm and not even noticing the scowls on his face as his arm muscles protest against the added weight.
"Oh Draco…" she coos breathlessly, but said person tries to ignore her as well as he can and glances around to see if the raven haired playwright is there
A sly grin appears on his face as he find who he has been looking for, realizing Harry must be eager to meet him again, since that the man was early.
He steers them into Harry's direction, nearly pulling Parkinson with him.
"Good afternoon," he says to the man, who turns around with a welcoming smile.
"My prince," Harry makes a slight bow. "What a delight to meet you in such a place," he says as he glances shortly at Parkinson, he subconsciously reaches for his neck as he sees the girl.
Lady Parkinson glowers darkly at him and pulls on Draco's arm. "Prince Draccco! I want to walk further!" she complains on a whiny tone. Draco's gaze never leaves Harry as he dispatches her from his arm and pushes her a bit away. "Go ahead, I'll be here."
Lady Parkinson's mouth falls wide open in shock at the way he (mis)treats her, then she scowls darkly as she stares at the two young men in front of her and with the swish of her dress, she whirls around and stalks angry away.
Harry stares incredulously after her. "Do I even want to know?" he asks.
"Thane Parkinson, her father… persuaded me on taking her here," explains the prince shortly, not wanting to waste more breathe on that vile creature.
"Ah…"
They start to walk side by side through the park, both wondering what to talk about when Draco gets an idea. "How is your new play fairing?" he asks nonchalantly.
"It goes very well."
"So you found inspiration?"
"Oh yes," Harry answers with a soft smile. "In the most unlikely place too."
"How so?" Draco asks curiously, but the playwright is silent and the prince lets it go for the time being.
This time it's Harry to break the short uncomfortable silence between them. "How do you like it in Gryffindor so far, my prince?"
"It's… different. At first I marvelled at how little the royalty here do. But I found myself something interesting to do to kill time with."
"What do you prefer to do in Slytherin then?"
"We like to play Quidditch."
"Quidditch?" Harry repeats unfamiliar name softly then raises his eyes to give Draco a questioning look. "What is it?"
"A game played on broomsticks."
"Broomsticks?" Harry exclaims surprised and Draco gives him a cocky smirk.
"Why yes; broomsticks. Our wizards came up with it."
Harry opens his mouth again to comment but Draco cuts him quickly off. "And yes, we in Slytherin don't look down on people with magical skills… do you?" he rises questioning an elegant brow.
Harry shakes his head. "No, nor do I envy them. Words are my magic."
It clearly pleases the prince to hear that. "Good answer."
They walk past a couple that bows briefly for the prince and cast curious glances at Harry. Draco ignores them while Harry gives them a courtly nod before turning to his charming companion again. "So, how do you play it?"
This makes a small smile creep onto the prince's face. "It's just great: there are two teams of seven, which try to score by throwing a ball through one of the opposing teams three goals. Each shot gives ten points. The hard part is that two metal balls fly around, trying to knock players off their brooms."
Harry pulls Draco to a park bench and pushes him onto it. He quickly sits down, laughing softly at how the prince didn't even stop his explanation. Apparently he really liked this game.
"The goals are three posts with rings elevated high above the ground. While this is going on, one player from each team searches for the golden snidget. When it is caught, it is worth 150 points and the game is over!"
"The snidget? But isn't that an endangered bird?"
Draco nods slightly. "Well yes, but we are looking for an alternative."
"I see…"
They are silent again; looking everywhere but each other and finally Draco gets bored of it and leans backwards, throwing his arms on the back of the bench, and sitting quite un-princely.
"How are the players?" he suddenly comments.
Harry turns to stare confused at the blonde. "I beg your pardon?"
"Your play," Draco verifies. "Do you have any good actors?"
"Oh yes indeed. Ever heard of Sirius Black and the Marauders Men? They're quite famous here, not to mention that Black is my godfather," the emerald eyed man answers smiling.
Draco's brows shoot up in surprise, making Harry chuckle softly.
"He is?" the blonde asks aghast.
Harry smiles brilliantly. "Yes and I've known all the others before they became famous too."
"Oh…"
"I got this new player too. I got the feeling that he's never been in a play before, but he is doing quite fine. Better even then some of the Marauders.
"Is he really?" Draco asks, his interest clearly showing in his voice and Harry blinks as he remembers.
"I forgot: you know him. But don't go telling this to Damien, my prince. His head might swell into him thinking he runs the whole play. I've seen it happen enough times."
A smile tugs at Draco's lips. "Oh, don't worry… he wont be hearing it from me."
Harry grins at him and then turns to stare into the distance in front of them. He bites softly his lip as he tries to come up with something else to talk about, but it seems that his muse has made him speechless for the moment. How would his companion react if he found out that he was the playwright's inspiration?
"Is there something wrong?"
Harry blinks as he comes back down to earth and says the first thing that comes to mind. "I was just wondering why your hair is…" he trails off, trying to find the right word.
"-so long?"
Not the word he was looking for but close enough.
"Um, yeah…"
"People in Slytherin wear it like this, I mean: the nobles. It shows that were 'above the riffraff', so my father wanted me to have it this way."
"Do you get along with your father?"
"Somewhat, don't you?"
"No…" Harry glances down at his clasped hands. "My parents are dead."
"I'm sorry to hear so."
"It happened when I still was a babe. They were killed in a carriage accident when their friend, Peter Pettigrew, sabotaged the carriage. Sirius fought with him the day after and he fled the country. I went to live with Remus and Sirius…"
"What about their wives?"
"They don't have any."
"Are they… together then?"
"No, I don't think so. Remus already has too many problems to be in a relationship."
"I don't get it? What kind of problems prevents him from having some romance?"
"Remus is physically very ill; he gets sick quickly and isn't supposed to be alive as speak. The doctors didn't give him more than a month to live as he was born, yet he still lives. But we all know he might die any day…"
"And you still let him play?"
"Yes, he knows he might die, but he'd rather die on stage, doing what he enjoys so deeply then any other way," Harry defends his friend's way of living.
"That's so Gryffindor-ish!"
"I didn't know you were one to stereotype. Not all Gryffindor's are brave, not all Hufflepuff's are loyal to death. It's just something that kids are reminded of when they grow up, they grow up to believe that they have to be chivalrous, to be loyal or smart."
Harry grins slyly. "I was born near the border; I was almost a Slytherin, but what if that had happened? Naturally my parents would still have me grow up with Gryffindor values, but majority would think I would have to be taught in Slytherin ways. After all: destiny would have made me be born there so there laid my destiny."
He shrugged. "We all have these values, it's just that we are taught to show one particular value more than others."
"I never thought of it that way," the prince softly comments.
Harry shrugs again. "It's just the way I see it."
They are silent again, this time it's a peaceful silence as both ponder about different subjects. The prince is thinking over our playwrights' words while the playwright… is thinking about him.
Harry tries to watch the prince as indistinctively as he can, pondering over the fact why the man seems to like his company. Little does he know that our prince is just as interested in him as he is and has been ever since they first met. An obvious case of 'love at first sight'.
Draco feels the unwavering gaze of his companion and looks aside, catching the man's gaze. "Do you see something you fancy, Potter?" he asks playfully and is caught completely off guard when the playwright answers truthfully. "Yes, I do."
"So do I…" he admits, now more serious, and he is this time the one to surprise the other.
For a long moment they simply stare into each other's eyes. Silver and emerald clash and then it is gone as they hear a high pitched voice. "Prince Draco?"
To Be Continued