Welcome - finally - to a new chapter!

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Chapter 9

Waking up the next morning Draco realised two things. For one, he was a bloody genius. It had been a brilliant idea to snatch Blaise' Dreamless Potion. Stretching his arms above his head he felt well rested for the first time since, well, since he'd last had the luxury of that particular Draught.

His second thought wasn't as favourable though and he punched his pillow in frustration.

Curse that sodding git. Curse Potter for babbling to him about Treacle Tarts and smiling about his magnificent use of sarcasm. And curse the prat for starting sentences without finishing them.

"Get your arse out of bed, Draco!" When Pansy knocked, his hand was already on the doorknob. She hit her fist against his chest, clearly not suspecting him to open that fast. Or maybe, and probably even more likely, she was still upset about yesterday and did it on purpose.

"Patience is a virtue, Pansy", he said, rubbing the spot, where she'd shoved her knuckles in.

She snorted. "You're funny, today." She was already turning around, heading down the staircase and Draco fell in place next to her.

"I am always fun", he said. "You just don't appreciate the brilliance of my wit."

She gave him a side-long glance. "You didn't just vanish Blaise' Potion, did you?", she asked after a while.

"I'm sure I've no idea what you're talking about", he replied.

And Pansy rolled her eyes at him. "Well, at least it helped your mood. I hope getting your robes set on fire is worth it."

It was a moot point. He really liked those robes. He'd had them made at Madame Malkins' only 3 months ago. Somehow he always ended up going there, although there was a tailor of unquestionable quality in Knockturn Alley, who charged only half the Galleons.

"Pomfrey won't let Blaise go, if he's still flammable."

To his chagrin Pansy only chuckled at that. "Oh, Draco, but he doesn't need to," she said, stepping through the entrance of the Common Room. "He hasn't burned down his wand, after all."

All things considered, Draco wasn't very worried about Blaise going for any kind of revenge, though. After all, he'd have to figure out who to blame first. And Draco didn't see that happening, since he, for one, certainly wasn't going to tell anyone what he'd said to Potter in class.

Potter.

That was another matter. Putting his fork down, Draco's eyes found the Gryffindor table, like he'd done a thousand times. Today, though it took him a little longer to pinpoint the git, who was sandwiched between two red heads, as usual.

His eyes narrowed.

Potter had his back to him.

"So, any progress with Granger?", Pansy asked, chewing on a piece of toast.

He never sat with his back to him. Because you couldn't just look up and glare at someone, when you had to turn around first. Not that any of that had happened recently, but still …

"I'm getting there", he said, not shifting his gaze.

The way Potter's shoulders were slumping, Draco suspected he was either tired or, again, not feeling too well this morning. Which really wasn't surprising, if he'd eaten all of the horrid tarts. No one could swallow this much and not be sick afterwards. Except, maybe, Weasley.

"Good. I already looked into a few jinxes. You think I could make Granger's hair blindfold her, whenever she picks up a book?" Pansy giggled.

"Hmm", he muttered, taking a sip of Pumpkin Juice. Or was he, maybe, hung over on Firewhiskey again? Draco couldn't be sure, since Potter was facing the bloody wrong way, giving him a perfect view of his just-been-shagged mess of hair.

He put down his cup the same time the Gryffindors got up to leave.

"You know, I think I better check, after all", he said, getting to his feet. He snatched his bag off the floor, leaning over Pansy's shoulder. "And you can go on blindfolding all the girls you like", he whispered, smirking.

When she started coughing, he quickly left the Great Hall before she'd managed to choke out an insult after him.

Teasing Pansy was amusing, but it wasn't anything like messing with Potter, Draco thought. He was already weighing different options of getting him flustered in his mind. Angrily flustered, of course. Because Draco was now certain his previous, insane thoughts concerning Potter had been strictly due to fatigue. It wouldn't happen again.

Stopping outside the Hall to look around, he glimpsed Granger's bushy mane disappear around the corridor leading to the Grand Staircase just in time and hurried after them.

If he could finally find out for sure that it had been her who'd dared to sneak into Slytherin that was all the better. He was still feeling like there was more to the whole thing than he could make sense of at the moment. But Potter would unravel this mystery for him. He just needed to remind him of his motivation.

"Potter", he called in his favourite sneer, when he'd almost reached them.

But it wasn't the dark haired boy that turned around. Instead, Granger stopped to meet him, arms crossed in front of her chest, efficiently blocking his way.

"Why is it, every time I say 'Potter' one of you two graciously throws themselves in front of him like a pair of mindless pawns?", he said irritated, fully aware that Potter was getting away, while he had to deal with his little friends. "Move, Granger."

"Harry doesn't want to talk to you", she just said, planting her feet. She'd drawn her brows together, looking quite upset. Weasley just had to choose today to spill his food on her favourite book, didn't he?

"Yeah, just bugger off like a good ferret, Malfoy", the red head then threw in, stepping up next to her and Draco narrowed his eyes to slits.

"Did Potter hire both of you, now? Be careful, Weasley, at this rate your girlfriend will snatch your promotion", he growled. "And how will you ever afford a sense of self-esteem, then?"

"Shut up!" Weasley's ears had gone red as his hair and Draco's hand already reached for his wand, hoping to get a chance to curse the idiot. Unfortunately, though, Weasley stayed put, only clenching his jaw, when Granger lay a hand on his shoulder to hold him back.

"Leave it, Ron", she said, shaking her head. "He's not worth it."

She shot him a look that reminded him of McGonagall's when he'd failed to transfigure that stupid Flobberworm correctly and then spun around, pulling Weasley with her.

Of course, Potter was long gone by then.

Draco chose not to kick the wall. He didn't think Potter was taking Divination, but someone must have tipped him off. If he thought he wouldn't need to fulfil his part of the deal, if he just kept avoiding Draco he was mistaken. He would get to him, sooner or later. The great saviour couldn't hide from him forever.

Although, as it turned out, catching Potter was as almost easy as it was for Goyle to finish The Daily Prophet's cross-word puzzle.

"What's Gryffindor's first name?", he'd asked one time.

Draco had been listening unintentionally, muttering "Merlin..." under his breath while shaking his head in disbelief.

And then Goyle had replied "No, that's not it" after being quiet for some time and Draco remembered wanting to rip the paper from him, roll it up and whack him on the head once or twice to see if it produced as much resonance as he suspected it would.

Potter seemed to be able to disappear into thin air.

He'd followed him out of the classroom in Potions and the Gryffindor had all but vanished after turning a corner, much like he'd done to the Paper Cranes Draco had sent him during class, not glancing at either the message or him. He skipped lunch and somehow got away again, when Draco glimpsed his ruffled hair in a corridor on the 4th floor. Draco had then waited near the Changing Rooms, where Potter was bound to come out after practice, but when 30 minutes had passed and even Gryffindor's spare Beater had made his way back to the castle, limping, he'd barged in to find the room empty.

"Are you aware you're stalking Harry Potter?", Pansy whispered urgently, when he'd sat down in the Common Room to think up a way to get to Potter.

"Ironic, isn't it?", he mused. But Pansy didn't laugh. At this rate it wasn't he, who needed to worry about wrinkles. She was frowning way too much, lately.

"Is this really just about getting Granger to confess?", she asked. By the way Pansy looked at him, lips pursed, he already knew it wasn't really a question and she'd already made up her delusional mind.

He snorted. "What else would it be about? We made a deal and he's not getting out of it."

"It's just..." She pressed her mouth together, reminding him a bit of Weasley the time he'd made himself puke snails.

"What?", he asked, reluctantly. He very much suspected he didn't actually want to hear this, but might as well get it over with.

"Why do you have to go through Potter, of all people? I'm sure you could find an easier way, multiple easier ways, to get to Granger. If you really wanted to."

Draco quickly looked around, if anyone was sitting too close, before lowering his voice some more. "I told you, I don't have a crush on Potter."

And when Pansy started smirking he knew he'd said the wrong thing.

It took him until the next day to finally catch Potter. Since he always managed to somehow slip past him unnoticed, almost like he knew exactly where Draco would be waiting for him, he'd figured he needed to catch the git some place he wouldn't expect him. So he bunked off Arithmancy for the first time since the beginning of the school year and waited in front of Flitwick's classroom, leaning against the wall next to the door.

Weasley was the first to show up, when the lesson ended. He was bickering with Finch-Fletchley about some second rate Quidditch Team and didn't even notice him, walking by completely oblivious. Other students followed, before finally Potter appeared, scuffling his feet.

He hadn't thought to look around, so it was almost too easy for Draco to grab his arm and pull him to the side, harshly.

The idea that he hadn't thought this through too well came to him, closely after he saw Potter whip his head around, a wild expression on his face. He felt the air knocked out of him the next second, as he was thrown against the wall roughly, something pointy pressing against his throat.

For a moment he didn't breathe as he stared into Potter's flashing green eyes. (Later, he told himself that was because Potter had his wand shoved against his throat.) And Draco watched them turn round until recognition had sunken in.

"Malfoy", Potter croaked then and another heartbeat passed until he let go of him, jumping away like he'd burned himself. Or more like he was disgusted being this close to him.

"Why did you let go?", Draco said coldly. "Scared to finish the Death Eater off?"

Potter had gone pale. "I didn't mean to … ", he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You shouldn't have jumped me like this."

There was a lot he could have replied to this. Starting with how Draco thought he very much liked being jumped by guys. But he noticed him talking a careful step back and his hand shot forward to wrap around his wrist. "Oh, no, Potter, you're not getting away."

Potter looked at their joined hands unhappily, tugging once to no avail, before training his gaze back on him, face blank. "What do you want, Malfoy?", he asked then.

"I thought I needed to remind you of your end of our deal, since it must have slipped your self-absorbed mind."

Potter shook his head, dark hair flying. "Look, Malfoy, I don't know what gave you the idea that Hermione did what you think she did, but you're wrong. There's nothing I can do."

Potter's skin felt hot against his palm.

"Maybe you'll reconsider, if Weasley joins our little discussion. See, I think he's heading our way."

He could feel Potter tensing up beneath his grip, balling his hand into a fist. "Listen here, Malfoy" he hissed then, "Hermione didn't impersonate your girlfriend and didn't kiss you and that won't change even if you tell Ron all of my darkest secrets. So you better learn to live with disappointment and get it into that insufferable head of yours. You. Are. Wrong." Draco had unintentionally loosened his grip a bit and Potter managed to tug his hand free. "So, by Merlin's beard, just leave me alone."

He shot Draco a strange look, that was somewhere between anger, desperation and something else he couldn't identify, before rushing off to meet Weasley halfway down the corridor.

Draco looked after them until they'd turned the corner.

He was very sure he hadn't told Potter about Granger kissing him.