Still don't own Harry Potter!
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Despite the fact that the first week of school was only just ending and everything was therefore still relatively new, Draco had already settled into a routine. Every day at 6 am, his cell phone alarm would go off; forty-five minutes later, the sound would finally batter through Draco's unconsciousness and wake him. He would then stumble blearily into the kitchen and pour himself a cup of coffee, mentally praising whoever it was that invented the automatic coffee maker. Thus caffeinated into a semblance of wakefulness, the blonde would hog the bathroom until Harry pounded on the door and shouted for five minutes. After relinquishing the bathroom to Harry, he would retreat to his bedroom to dress and primp for as long as he could before Harry was once again pounding on the door, threatening to either break it down or leave without him.
The pair usually managed to leave by 8:07; the twenty-minute walk to campus meant that they generally had a scant three minutes to get to their 8:30 classes on time. At lunch, Draco would eat with Dean and/or Seamus on most days, with Hermione and Ron joining them on occasion. Then it was back to class or the library to study until 8 pm, after which he would head home and freak Harry out by letting himself into the apartment while the brunette was in the shower. Once they headed off to their respective classes, he never saw Harry during the day.
It was this last fact that had Draco glaring at the schedules in front of him as he drank his coffee Friday morning. They had posted them on the refrigerator before the start of classes (mostly to facilitate the unspoken agreement that all roommates seemed to have—loud sex was to be indulged in only when the other roommate was out). At the time, Draco had glanced over the schedules briefly, noting that they had corresponding lunch breaks twice a week (and that Harry had a heck of a lot more sex time than Draco did, thanks to their majors). He had assumed that he'd eat lunch with Harry at least once a week, especially when it turned out that those days were the same days that Ron and Hermione were free. To his annoyance, he had thus far seen neither hide nor hair of Harry outside of their apartment. He realized that assuming Harry would want to eat with him was a bit presumptuous (they were roommates, not necessarily friends even though he would like them to be); however, he'd gotten the impression that Harry was pretty close to Hermione and Ron, and surely his own company wasn't so horrid that Harry would neglect his best friends just to avoid his roommate.
Unfortunately, thanks to the embarrassment of having Seamus detail how Draco had appeared to be infatuated with Harry, the blonde now didn't know how to bring the subject up without appearing...well, gay. Though he himself knew perfectly well that his concern was born out of pure manly camaraderie, the ensuing awkwardness from his roommate and friends' mistaken good intentions was far too awful to chance. Which didn't solve the problem at hand—how could he ask Harry where he'd been while avoiding any confusion about his motivation?
"Something wrong with my schedule?"
Harry's voice interrupted Draco's pondering, and the blonde looked up to see that the other boy had joined him in contemplating the refrigerator door.
"You're up early," commented Draco, surprised. Normally, Harry didn't drag himself out of bed until Draco was in the shower. Harry gave him an odd look as he snagged the box of cereal off of the counter.
"No I'm not, it's already quarter past 7."
"Shit!" yelped Draco, realizing that he had spaced out longer than he'd intended. He chugged down his now tepid coffee and hurtled off to the bathroom, leaving a mildly amused Harry behind in the kitchen.
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Draco slid into his seat in the front row a fraction of a second before Professor Snape started speaking, earning an irritated glare from the professor (for once however, their relationship worked to their advantage; where Snape would usually draw attention to any latecomers with cutting sarcasm, he did not remark on Draco's entrance). As the man turned away from them and started writing on the board, Dean elbowed the blonde, who was searching frantically through his things for a writing utensil.
"What took you so long today, mate, did you oversleep more than usual?" he whispered, passing Draco a pen.
Draco accepted it from him gratefully and whispered back, "Nah, I just kinda spaced out this morning over coffee."
As Dean rolled his eyes, Professor Snape interrupted them even as he continued putting notes up on the board. "Mr. Thomas, Mr. Malfoy...Keep in mind that my class is not a time for socializing. If you two wish to discuss your dinner date, please do so during your own time." The two boys flushed as the entire class tittered and craned their necks to look at them.
"So much for going easy on his godson," Dean muttered (very quietly) to Draco.
Even though there was no way he could have heard, Professor Snape still gave him an ugly look and sneered. Draco waited until Snape's back was turned before scribbling a reply on the corner of Dean's notebook. He can read lips, you know, he scrawled. Dean looked at him in disbelief before groaning (softly) and giving up. Both turned their attention to copying notes like everyone else.
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"So, what is everybody up to tonight?" asked Seamus, looking around the lunch table. "Anybody interested in that party on 32nd Street?"
Ron perked up. "You mean Wood's party?" he asked eagerly.
Seamus nodded. "The one and only," he confirmed. "Might be a good time to meet him and make some connections if you're interested."
"Who's Wood?" asked Hermione curiously. Dean glanced up, listening in absentmindedly (he still remained much more focused on the chef working near the wall opposite him, who was about to put out more servings of freshly cooked Kalbi ribs). Draco ignored them, too intent on scowling at his food and wondering why Harry wasn't there.
"He's the captain of the football team," explained Seamus; at the word "football", Hermione's eyes glazed over. "He's a good guy, best thing that could've happened to the team, really."
Ron picked up enthusiastically where Seamus left off, not noticing that Seamus was the only one listening to him (Dean left the table at this point to snag his beloved Korean barbecue, while Draco seemed to be involved in a glaring contest with his mashed potatoes and Hermione had already tuned out, flipping through her chemistry notes instead). "Yeah! Rumor has it he was absolutely incredible, even as a freshman! What time is the party again, Seamus?"
"10 pm until whenever," answered Seamus. "You guys going, Dean, Draco?"
Having procured several plates of ribs, Dean finally joined the conversation. "Eh, I might stop by for a bit," he shrugged. "I'm more of a soccer person myself, but it'll be nice to relax a bit before hitting the books this weekend." He and Seamus turned expectantly to Draco, who didn't notice and continued staring down his potatoes. They watched Draco watch his potatoes for a moment, before Ron jostled the blonde.
"Oi, Drake, you going to the party?" he asked. Draco snapped out of his daze.
"What party?" he asked, disdainfully edging away from Ron so as to dislodge the boy's elbow from his side.
"Wood's party," said Seamus, slowly. "You know, the one we've been talking about for the last ten minutes..."
"Oh." Draco gave his potatoes a final glare for good measure (was Harry going? How could he ask without setting Seamus off again?). "I don't know, I might check it out. Do you know who else is going?"
"Draco, it's Oliver Wood's party!" exclaimed Ron. "Who knows who will be there! There will be tons of people drifting in and out the whole time!"
Draco sneered. "I meant people that we know," he clarified.
"He means Harry," added Dean, rolling his eyes. Draco flushed.
"Will you drop it already, Dean?" he snapped peevishly (while hoping that Ron would answer the question anyways). "There's nothing gay about wanting to know why my roommate seems bent on avoiding me!"
"Maybe it's because you're bent on getting into his pants," muttered Seamus. If looks could kill, Draco's glare would have left Seamus in tiny little unrecognizable pieces strewn over the entire cafeteria. As it were, the Irish boy merely wilted a bit under Draco's fury. Ron, on the other hand, looked flabbergasted.
"Malfoy? Are you...?"
"No!" Draco growled, very emphatically. "Definitely not!" Though Seamus, Dean, and Hermione looked somewhat unconvinced, Ron looked infinitely relieved.
"Oh. That's—that's good, Draco," he babbled. "Er, you're sure about that, right?" he asked anxiously, as if worried that Draco would jump him any minute. Draco closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and counted to ten before responding.
"Weasley, I wouldn't bed you if every girl on the planet died and shagging you was the only way to save the Earth from being destroyed by invading alien forces," he drawled, somehow managing to sound cool and disinterested. Ron beamed at him.
"Fascinating as this all is, we should probably all head to our classes now," reminded Hermione tartly. The boys groaned but obligingly finished eating and gathered their things up. As they left, Draco heard Ron babbling on about Wood and football to Hermione (who was almost certainly not paying attention) and cursed.
"Damnit!"
"What?" asked Dean, who was a few paces behind the redhead and so heard Draco's outburst. The blonde shook his head, frustrated.
"Nothing. I'll see you later," he muttered, splitting off from the rest of the group to head to class.
He still didn't know if Harry was going to the party or not.
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I have got to start finding a new way to end chapters...I meant to write more, but I figured I'd already made you guys wait long enough (would you prefer longer chapters with slower updates, or chapters about this length and more frequent updates?) and I want to go to bed. Sorry about the late update, by the way; I'm afraid it was that time of month when I transform into an Advil-popping ball of pain and rage. Thank you all for reading/reviewing/adding me to various fav lists and alerts! I really appreciate your support, and I welcome your input.