Chapter 11. Bites and Kisses.

"Now, now," I purred, "No crying. I hope you won't miss my sexy ass too much while I'm gone." There was no reaction from the students in the Slytherin common room. How frustrating! It had been several weeks since the beginning of school and I had not only failed to reveal Potter's conniving plot, but I hadn't managed to ruffle any feathers after that fun jaunt on the train. So much for this year being so very different!

I scanned the room with dissatisfaction, finding only one face turned in my direction. Theodore Nott. He was sitting in a darkened corner, once again alone, once again looking irritated. I swear the boy never smiles. He had raised his head from his book to glance at me with one brown eyebrow raised in a superior manner. How dare he steal my patented look of disdain? With a scowl at his impertinence, I turned, and stepped through the doorway into the cooler air of the Slytherin labyrinth. The stone walls engulfed me in their clammy grip and goose bumps began to stand on my skin. I plucked irritably at my sleeve again, feeling the same familiar itch beginning. I'd have to renew the spell to keep the pain down soon. It was beginning to worry me that it was taking so long to heal, for the sore remained the same size and color since I'd first received it. It was almost as if I'd been hexed without knowing it. I had force myself to stop poking at it as I walked.

Though dusk was beginning, it wasn't time for students to be in bed so there were few other stranglers about as I meandered through Hogwarts. Of course, in my opinion, regulations weren't really meant for me anyway, as I'm clearly above the rules they foist on less worthy students.

My feet tread familiar places and I found myself at the bridge connecting the towers. Leaning against the railing I looked down to the ground below, feeling the slight wind stir around me. The sound of shuffling feet came from below me, and a figure stepped into view, dark head bent over a small sheet of paper. I knew that head. Potter had obviously tried to style his hair again, but he'd missed one section completely and he had a rumpled tuft of hair sticking straight up. He looked up from his paper and glanced around as if looking for something before turning back to the small parchment in his hand again. I snickered when he scratched his head as if in confusion. He was so clueless! He'd probably forgotten his common room password. At my laugh he looked up and saw me. He waved quickly at me before disappearing into the stairway. I couldn't determine his facial expression due to distance, but he was probably giving me that silly smile of his. My nice quiet night was about to be disturbed again!

"Draco!" A voice broke through the air, and I heard the sound of quick footsteps on stone.

"What do you want?" I snarled without thinking and then inwardly berated myself. How was I to finagle the secret of his plot if I wasn't pretending adequately? I knew we were supposed to be 'acquaintances', but it was such a hard thing to remember when I was near such an annoyance!

"Hello to you too. Having a nice night?" His voice sounded out of breath, but I caught a definite note of teasing.

"No. It's windy and they served kidney pie at dinner." I replied testily while turning from him to stare out into the dark expanse again. I eyed the ledge below, wondering if it was large enough for a person to sit. If so, it would be a perfect place from which to unleash dark spells on certain offensive Gryffindors. I would have to remember this spot.

"You aren't here because…you aren't thinking of…jumping?" He asked softly, which caused me to glance at his flushed face in surprise. The darkness around us had turned his green eyes to an engulfing black, which was rather eerie.

"Don't be so dense, Potter. I was simply measuring the distance to be covered if you were to take a most unfortunate plummet to the ground."

"If you think you can actually make that happen, I wish you luck." He said with a smile, no trace of anger at my threat in his voice. Oh. That's right, You Know Who had been trying to kill Potter for years and failed miserably, so of course it would be expected that I would fail as well. Truthfully, a dead Potter was of no use for me anyway, for then who would I torture? I would be as likely to kill myself as the annoying git!

"Why would you think that anyway, Potter? That I'd kill myself?" I asked with honest puzzlement in my voice.

"Your eyes," He replied, leaning against the rail beside me, "They look sad. Usually they're an angry grey storm or a cool sky but at the end of last year they started looking dull."

"My eyes are never dull looking!"

"Not usually and not now. But sometimes your entire face just draws into itself. It's even worse this year. I had thought that things would be better by now." As he said this, he frowned over the railing into the darkness beneath us, his profile standing in straight white relief against the night. Why had he sounded wistful like that? I tried to study his familiar features, following the curve of his cheek, past the straight line of his nose to his lips. I felt a clenching in my chest and something dry in my throat, so I took a step away from him.

"What? Where did you get that?" Potter cut in suddenly, looking down at my right arm. The sleeve had momentarily rolled up, revealing that dratted goat bite, which appeared very red in the darkness.

"That's nothing," I said hastily, pulling my robe down to cover it again.

"No, really, what happened? Why didn't Madam Pomfrey heal it? Did you have a broom accident?"

"Potter, you're getting on my nerves."

"But, you should get this looked at if you don't know what happened." He sounded worried.

"I said it's nothing." I replied testily.

"But-"

"Potter, I'm not as clueless as you are, I know exactly what happened." I muttered as he pulled my arm forward to fully expose the raw looking bite and his forehead wrinkled in a concerned frown. I sighed.

"A goat bit me."

"What?"

"That hideous mountain witch refused to heal it too! Pretended that I'd been taunting her precious pet. Goats as a species should be wiped from the earth," I said huffily while still attempting to extract my arm. He blinked at me behind his round glasses.

"But…when? When would a goat have bitten you? Does Hagrid even have any goats?"

"It wasn't at school. I had a few incidents that didn't work out quite as planned this summer," I replied, my voice beginning to sound strained.

"But…if it was in the summer, shouldn't it be healed by now or at least not so…sore looking?" His finger drew a gentle circle around the tender spot and I shivered in response, finally managing to wretch my arm free.

"Yes one would think so, but it won't heal. That witch was a card short of a deck, I tell you! Completely unhinged. She kept blathering on about owning me just because she helped me after I fell down that stupid mountain."

"You fell down a mountain?" He shouted, grabbing me roughly by my shoulders and giving me a shake, "We have to get you to Madam Pomfrey."

"No."

"But you have a wound that won't heal! This is serious, we're going NOW!"

"Potter, stop! Hey! Let me go! You idiot! I am not telling her that I was bitten by a goat!" I shouted as I was led away, this acquaintance thing wasn't working out as I had planned at all!

An hour later my patience was exhausted and I scowled at Madame Pomfrey and Potter equally. Though she had now finished torturing me with potions and those annoying 'tsk' noises, she was still blathering on in her high pitched voice. She was like some persistent whining insect that kept circling around my head. You could swat at it, but it always came back. She seemed most stirred up about possible infections. Whatever. We're wizards; we eat silly little things like that for breakfast!

I had been right in my guess about the wound not healing correctly due to interference. The sore on my arm had been spelled to prevent healing. I should have known! That old mountain witch was obviously jealous of my good breeding, and was upset that such a fine specimen had slipped through her fingers. It was her stupid pet goat's fault anyway that I'd been bitten. After my traumatic run in with the mountain goats, I was rather on edge regarding all such creatures. His beady little eyes had made his intentions clear, and I hadn't been surprised when he'd slimed my pants without a by your leave. Next time I wasn't just going to try to teach her stupid pet goat to swim; there'd be a whole goat barbecue going on!

I'd have to research some recipes for cooking goat, for who knew how tough that type of meat could be! Maybe a nice white wine sauce?

"And, be sure to rest often for the next few days, Mr. Malfoy. I can't believe the amount of toxin I found in your blood! To have been covering the symptom without addressing the cause was most unwise and I feel-"

"Look, I'm fine," I said coldly while trying to stand. It was hard because the floor was made of gelatin. Stupid gelatin floor. Pomfrey had probably done that on purpose because she liked me helpless like all the other good little students. Well, she had picked on the wrong student for that!

"But Draco, you're still swaying a bit," said a black haired boy standing next to me. Oh, that's right, he's Harry Potter. He's special.

"I don't listen to the likes of you." To emphasize my point I jabbed my figure into the black square that was his chest, unfortunately he did that fluid water thing he'd been doing for awhile now. It had started after they'd made me drink a very tart tasting orange potion. Instead of thumping him in the chest, somehow, his face got in the way. My finger hit his glasses, which went flying and then I sunk into the soft flesh of his eye. The annoying Boy Who Lived (like that's any big accomplishment) stepped back with a cry and his hand went to his eye. I turned away in triumph. That'd teach him to put his face where his chest was!

"Oh my, well at least his personality has returned. Perhaps he should stay overnight for observation?" Madame Pomfrey said in a disapproving tone.

"I think not!" I replied angrily. What exactly did this lecherous old woman want to observe? "Do you know who my father is? I demand to go back to my rooms at once!" Would threatening others with my father's wrath have the same effect now that he was in prison?

The witch flushed and made a sound like a strangled chicken in the back of her throat. "Perhaps he is well enough to go back to his room."

I gave her an imperious nod and she sighed quietly before turning to the black haired boy across from me. "Now, Mr. Potter, the side effects should be washed from his bloodstream as he sleeps tonight, but he really should rest. I know it's a bit out of your way, but it would be wonderful if you could escort him back to his room." Before she could change her mind about keeping me locked overnight in such drab surroundings with a lewd older woman like her, I briskly headed for the door.

Oddly enough, the door apparently didn't like the fact that I was trying to walk through it for though I was positioned to strut past easily, my shoulder struck the door frame. I glared at the offending piece of wood in affront. So, it wanted to play that game did it? Perhaps a little fire would teach it not to move while a Malfoy walked through! I reached down for my wand, but came up empty. Oh, that's right. Potter had taken my wand after I'd tried to hex Pomfrey when her back was turned. I don't know why he did that. It's not as if she would have known I'd been the one to hex her! Like so many before her, she'd have simply thought she ate something that gave her a little…indigestion. I'd done that spell dozens of times without it ever backfiring, but did Potter know that? No. Because he was an inadequate and inept wizard who stole others wands!

Wanting to be away from them both, I kept one hand on the door frame lest it should try moving again and managed to make it through. The door squeaked shut behind me and I relaxed slightly. I really do hate anything related to sick people.

A hand landed on my arm. "She said we'd better get back to our rooms. Are you still dizzy?" Drat! Potter had followed me.

"I'm not. And I wasn't then. What are you trying to pull here Potter?"

"Oookay," He said in a soft voice, as if speaking to a child or someone very, very stupid. This caused my glare up at him to intensify. "Just lean on my arm and we'll get you back to your room. If you remember the password. We could ask another Slytherin, but I don't think that would be a good idea. Not with you vulnerable like this." A strong arm looped around my shoulders and a crafty thought came to me as I was pulled into his chest. My wand would be in my hand soon enough!

"Maybe I should take you back to Gryffindor? My bed is probably large enough for two. No, no, that's a bad idea. Plus, there is Seamus. That'd be even worse than letting the Slytherins have you. Hmm…"

While Potter mumbled irrationally to himself, I eyed his robe covertly. Where oh where would he have put my wand? I didn't see anything sticking out at an odd angle, well, except for his hair. Wait a second.

"Did you just say I was vulnerable?"

"Ummm…"

"Prat."

"Well, you're really wobbly and not making any sense, really."

"I'm fine." I tried to give a commanding wave of my hand, but unfortunately his chest was in the way. I let my hand rest there, and felt the taunt muscles moving slightly under his shirt. I gave the chest an experimental squeeze, but there was no wand to be had there. He also apparently had very little body fat. He better not think he was in better shape than me!

"What were you thinking?" He said then, his words causing the chest underneath my hand to vibrate in an interesting way. I felt a breath of warm air as he pressed his forehead against mine, his green eyes searching.

"Why didn't you get Madame Pomfrey to look at this the first day?" He asked.

I looked down, away from the searching eyes, away from the face so near my own. I could barely make out the white of my hand, slim against his chest, and I flexed my fingers letting the fabric of his shirt slip through, feeling the heat of his body warm the fabric and my own hand. His heart was beating steadily and loudly. We were so close that I could almost feel every line of his body through our clothing.

"Do you want to die?" Potter asked, his voice sounding odd as if the words were fighting to escape his throat.

"Don't be stupid Potter," I said, "if I'm not alive as a specimen of perfection the world would be worshiping at your inferior feet. That just wouldn't do."

"Then?"

"I…had to take care of this myself, even if I didn't know how."

"Why couldn't you ask for help?" He rubbed his nose against my cheek like a kitten, causing my heart to do a confused double thump. Maybe the potions that had been forced down my throat were having more side effects than I had anticipated?

"It's not what you think. I'm not some pathetic person who can't take care of himself. I would have fixed it. I just can't trust anyone else."

"You can trust me."

"You?" I retorted. "I can trust you least of all."

"You can. Even as your enemy I was always there. Just like you were always there with a smirk and an insult for me." He said, eerily echoing my own thoughts.

"Potter…why are you saying this?"

"But…don't you know? Of course not," He whispered softly. He nuzzled the side of my cheek again and then his mouth moved hotly across my face. There was a feather light touch against my mouth. Soft. A brush of soft skin against skin as his mouth pressed against mine and he kissed me.

His lips rubbed against my mouth, slowly, before I felt a flicker of something wet and hot. A strangled sound rose in my throat and he pulled back, looking down at me with flushed cheeks, his eyes shinning and alive. His hand reached for my face, but I jerked back and he let it fall harmlessly away. He gave a small sigh and I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out.

"Are you alright? We should get you back to your room," Potter said softly. As my vocal cords were not working, I glared at him in response. He reached into his robe and pulled out an ugly, tattered cloak. Even feeling as confused as I was, I wrinkled my nose in disgust. He really had no taste in clothing at all!

"Here, pull this over your head," he said trying to cover me with the fashion faux pas. It had patches, ugly mismatched patches!

"No," I snapped in response. "How do I know where that thing has been? It looks like something you dug out of Weasley's rejects." Ah, victory! My vocal cords were now obeying me again!

"Look, just put it on and you'll be home soon."

"And away from you?"

A sigh.

"Yes, away from me."

"Okay, okay, but don't try anything while I'm under there. I'm watching you, Potter."