Chapter 28: Champions, Take Your Mark.
If Granger was an insect, then Rita Skeeter was a cockroach.
A complete disgusting, nauseating, irksome cockroach the general population (about a good 95%) wanted to stomp on after their reputations were tarnished by her articles. A cockroach Draco himself wanted to squash with the heel of his shoe after reading one too many of her articles targeting Father, trying to make him into some sort of evil, power-hungry villain.
Well, maybe the power-hungry was accurate, but the evil? Rubbish. A villain? Nonsense. After all, there was nothing wrong with being ambitious. It was one of the Slytherin core-values.
However as troublesome as insects were, they had their uses if not ones for entertainment.
When Skeeter wasn't trying to trash people he knew and cared enough about, she proved to be quite the storyteller. He already knew what happened at World Quidditch Cup thanks to Harry who recapped all that happened in a letter, but Skeeter featured some very interesting details regarding that day.
Like the fact most of the blame was placed on the Ministry for lack of security. Like the fact dozens of people were injured by the attack including players from the Quidditch, and were planning on suing the Ministry for the damages. Like the fact that while wizards and witches may have sustained injuries, Muggles were the actually target. Towards the middle of the lightening storm, Muggles nearby were attacked. Some flung into buildings, some pulled into the sky and touched by the lightning's power, where some survived and others didn't carry that luck, and some who had limbs severed or scars slashed upon their skin by mysterious figures clad in black and silver.
Draco snickered at the Prophet's cover featuring Minister Fudge shoving a reporter's camera away from his face, several employees trailing behind him including the head Weasel whose flustered face was as red as his hair.
Father took one look at the paper and rolled his eyes. "You know better than to fill your head with such nonsense, Draco."
"I do," he said. "However occasionally one can stumble across quite a fascinating gem hidden in the clutter."
Brow furrowed, Father stole another glance at the paper, a smile twisting his mouth as he took in the cover. "Indeed."
Mother hummed happily as she spread raspberry jam onto her croissant. "I don't think that's the only reason you're so happy today, Dragon." Her eyes twinkled as they glanced over at him.
Against his control, a smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
Today he was heading back to Hogwarts to begin his fourth year. More importantly he was going to see Harry again. Giddiness bubbled in his chest.
After breakfast, Draco examined his reflection in one of the mirrors in the hallway. It was a tough, irritating road but he could see at fourteen puberty was finally agreeing with him, adding a newfound maturity to his sharp features, one that was well-noticed by everyone towards the end of insufferable retreat and by people in the streets and shops as he did his shopping Diagon Alley, stopping dead in their tracks to stare at him. Draco couldn't exactly blame them since he did look good. His light-blond hair had grown out, nearly touching his shoulders. His complexion maintained its fair, smooth exterior through the blistering heat. Not a blemish in sight. He smiled, pleased.
"Draco, it's time to go." Mother called.
One last smile at the mirror and Draco raced downstairs, following his parents into the floo.
Platform 9 ¾ buzzed with noise. Loud laughter bursting from friends reunited after months apart, hugging and jumping on each other, talking excitedly about the new school year. Pets rattling in their cages, banging against the bars. Parents smothering their kids with hugs and kisses, repeating over and over that they'll be missed, to write every day, to be on their best behavior. Porters carrying suitcases and caged pets onto the train.
Draco spotted familiar faces. Theo in what looked to be with a deep conversation with the Ravenclaw Patil girl. Pansy, linked arm-in-arm with Daphne, laughing even though she kept looking over her shoulder to stare at Theo. Longbottom cowering away from his grandmother's fussing. Weasley with his clan of red-haired, freckled-face clones, trying to slip away from their mother's hold as Granger smirked across from him. And…there.
Emotions, wild as a tornado, hot as fire, hit his chest like dozens of sharp arrows nailing their mark as he spotted Harry in the middle of the Weasleys, standing beside his godfather, laughing at whatever the she-weasel was telling him. As if he could feel the heat of Draco's gaze, Harry took a step back and looked straight ahead, piercing him with those deep yet bright green eyes.
Draco shoved his trunk into a passing worker, not caring if it hit the man's chest or landed on his foot, before he took off, a smile gracing his face as he saw he wasn't the only one running to his desired destination.
Within a heartbeat, Draco's arms were wrapped around Harry, eyes closed as Harry hugged him back just as fiercely. He shuddered in delight as the comforting, warm scent of treacle tart and cinnamon swarmed his nostrils as he buried his face into the nape of Harry's neck, his messy black hair that was soft as a pillow. Even better than a pillow, he thought almost drunkenly as he nuzzled his face more into the soft skin, feeling the aches that have slashing and throbbing his chest throughout the summer disappear like specks of dust.
Unbeknownst to the boys, an odd smile crossed Narcissa's face as she stood by her husband's side, her eyes completely focused on the sight of her two boys. Her lips were pulled slightly into a smile and her eyes held affection and amusement as she watched them. It was a strange smile she wore; it was almost like the look of a woman who knew exactly was happening and was waiting in anticipation over it.
Won't be long now, her smile seemed to say. Oh, she couldn't wait until her boys finally figured it out.
"I missed you." Draco murmured.
He could feel those soft, pink lips curve into a smile as Harry's hold on him tightened. He felt the curve of that smile as a soft kiss was pressed against his temple. "I missed you too."
Music to his ears. Draco's senses, his mind, his body, all of them hummed as if he drunk the most incredible champagne and was floating, feeling so happy and nice and warm. He pressed himself more against Harry, nearly piling all of his weight onto him. How he made it through this summer living in different continents with letters to make up for lack of physical contact, he had no idea. How he managed to sleep without his favorite pillow was a mystery. How he survived without his best friend by his side was unbearable. What he did know, though, was that this would be the last summer such a thing would ever happen. "Never again."
Harry chuckled as he ran his hand through Draco's hair. Draco purred, arching into the touch. Dear Merlin, how he missed his touch.
"I mean it," he insisted. "Never again."
"And if Sirius insists on another summer-long visit?" Harry teased.
"Then he shall have it," Draco answered. "through letters and firecalls."
"I second that motion, Dragon."
Harry broke apart their hug, and Draco tried to suppress the flare of annoyance shooting through his chest as Harry enveloped himself in Mother's arms.
She pecked him on the forehead and pulled him back a bit to examine him. Approval shone in her eyes as she took note of his straight posture and the fine robes covering in his body instead of the Muggle scraps he wore when Black picked him up for the summer. "I cannot express how greatly you were missed, darling."
"Usually," Father said. "I find public displays distasteful. However, given circumstances, I suppose expectations can be made."
Father didn't pull Harry into a hug like he and Mother did, but the smile that graced his mouth, though faint, did carry the same warmth. His eyes swept over Harry's frame, doing his own examination. "Let's see. No tattoos. No piercings. I don't smell foul smoke clutching onto your clothes. It seems my prayers have been answered. Black hasn't corrupted you."
"Always a displeasure seeing you, Malfoy," Black smirked as he appeared by Harry's side, sending a wink to Mother that deepened her frown.
It was hard to believe the two men came from the same circle. Father clad in his fine, woolen cloak, hair combed and tied into a low ponytail, cane in hand. Black, with his wild, dark curls, dressed in a black, ratty t-shirt with a red guitar printed across his chest and torn jeans that looked like they were devoured by moths.
Black patted Harry's shoulder, smiling down at him. "Remember to put ointment on your back, kiddo. Hate for the tattoo to get infected."
Tattoo?
"He's kidding!" Harry assured, shoving an elbow into the man's side.
Father and Mother weren't easily convinced, their faces set into hard frowns. Draco would have lent his friend a hand if he wasn't trying to swallow down his snickers. Luckily for Harry, the train's whistle blew, alerting students and parents it was time to depart. His parents said their goodbyes with nods and smiles while Black pulled Harry into a tight hug, ruffling his hair and missing the dark glare gleaming in Draco's eyes before the boys boarded the train.
"I'm curious, Potter. What kind of tattoo did you get?" Draco teased. "You don't seem like a flower person, but then again you never cease to amaze me."
"Shut it."
"Perhaps you gave into your reckless Gryffindor side and got a lion."
"Shut. It."
Draco snapped his fingers. "A phoenix."
"Shut up!" Harry shoved him away, scowling at the laughter chiming from his mouth.
As it turned out, they weren't the only ones who had an interesting summer. Their friends also had their own stories to share. Blaise was treated to a fun time in New York, sponsored by a man currently courting his mother as she was dealing with divorce settlements with her recent, soon-to-be ex. Pansy and her family took part in building another summer villa, this time in Brazil. Crabbe and Goyle got to test their baking skills at a fancy pastry school they gained summer admission into, eating their weight in treats. Theo experienced his own taste of heaven when he visited the Great Alexandria library that, unknown to the Muggles, was preserved, in perfect condition, and, as Theo gushed, completely magnificent.
"If I could live there," he grinned. "I'd do it in a heartbeat."
"You're gonna make one lucky girl the most miserable wife," Pansy smirked. "I'll be sure to send the poor dear a lifetime supply of liquor to ease her sorrows."
"So funny you say that, Parkinson, when that's the same wedding present I plan to give to the poor chap forced to procreate with you. It will go nicely with the shovel he'll used to take you out and bury in the backyard after a good…oh, I don't know, week." Theo smiled innocently at the dark look she sent him. "I only hope I get a front row seat to that show."
"Knowing you, Nott, your idea of a shovel would be some boring, old hardcover."
Theo shrugged. "Well, books do have multiple uses. Then again I suppose you wouldn't know anything about that since you…I feel like if I said preschool reading level, that would be an insult to the preschoolers."
Pansy would've clawed his eyes out if Crabbe and Goyle didn't hold her down. Blaise glanced between the two locked in a death-glare match, amusement ringing in his voice as he said, "We got liquor, shovels, books. Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful life together."
"Shut it, Zabini!"
"Would it be odd if I said that I honestly missed that?" Harry gestured towards their bickering friends.
Draco shrugged with one arm as he absentmindedly twirled a curl of Harry's hair around his finger. "Guess it proves you don't recognize the importance of background music till you reach silence."
Their compartment door flung open. Draco expected it to be a stewardess on her usual candy-run or-Merlin forbid-Weasley or Granger trying to take Harry away. Instead it was a petite girl already dressed in her Hogwarts robes with the Ravenclaw crest pinned on her chest and bright-pink high top trainers, her scraggly hair dirty-blonde and was almost down to her waist, huge sun earrings dangling from her ears, and pink sunglasses shaped like flamingos concealed her face.
What the-
She pushed back her sunglasses to reveal a pair of wide, grayish-blue eyes that held a dreamlike, almost trance look in their gaze. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she met Harry's eyes. "Hello Harry."
"Luna," he smiled back.
Luna? Draco's brows nearly touched his hairline as Harry pulled away from him-for the second time today-and got up from his seat to pull the girl into a hug that was far too friendly for his taste.
"You're Lovegood, aren't you?" Pansy asked; her earlier annoyance with Theo a distant memory as she took in the girl's appearance.
Lovegood? Lovegood? Why did that name sound so family-wait a tick. "Lovegood as in Loony Lovegood?"
Harry shot him a dark frown that Draco answered back with a shrug. Lovegood took no offense to the name, smiling just as the same, when their hug was finally broken.
"The dust creatures told me where to find you." she said.
"Dust creatures?" Crabbe parroted.
She inclined her head in a slight nod. "Most people think they're just particle bits occupying space when really they are as alive as you and me. They send their messages through songs."
Songs?
"I was just about to go to Ginny's compartment. Ron, Hermione, and Neville are already there. Care to join us?"
Before Draco could answer the question, Harry beat him to it, saying, "I'll have to pass." It was an answer that pleased him, until he took in the brightness shining behind the smile that was reserved for the girl.
"Another time then." she said, unfazed, waving to them before she made her way out.
As soon as the door was closed, questioning glances and one accusing glare were aimed at Harry.
"She's Ginny's best friend," he said. "and during the times I was at the Burrow, she would visit."
So while Draco was apart from Harry for the whole summer, Harry had Granger, the she-weasel, and now Lovegood to occupy his time? Irritation coiled in Draco's stomach. How the hell was that fair?
"A bit young and odd for my taste," Blaise said. "but pretty enough. Well done, Potter. You must have one splendid summer with her."
"Shut up, Blaise!" Harry elbowed him. Blaise only laughed while Draco felt his left eye twitching from the vile implication behind Blaise's words.
"Or perhaps you're more into the exotic type, like that pretty Hawaiian girl."
Hawaiian girl?! Draco's head spun so fast towards Harry's direction, he was sure his neck nearly snapped. Images of Harry and some bikini-clad wench rolling around in the sand unfolded in his head, causing the irritation in his stomach to morph to nausea.
"Blaise!" Harry cried.
By the wicked glint in his eyes, Draco knew the Italian was on a roll. "Understandable. Once you have that sweet tropical taste, it's hard to go back."
Harry delivered a punch to his arm and Draco lend a hand, hitting the other as acidic nausea burnt through his tissues and veins as those sick images played over and over in his head.
"You are positively indecent, Blaise Zabini!" Pansy exclaimed.
"I try, Pansy," he grinned. "I try."
He barely had time to dodge from the pillow she flung at his face.
The Welcoming feast at the castle was even more elaborate than the previous ones, filled with more songs from the choir and a new song from the sorting hat, more dishes of delicious food, and, of course, more speeches from the old goat. Presenting the strange, patched-eye retired Auror as their new DADA teacher whose name Draco already forgotten even though he was still shaking from the way those strange eye-or eye, he should say-looked over at them. Announcing that the Yule Ball would be in December, encouraging all that can attend to stay over for the holidays. Explaining Quidditch would be cancelled this year for the Trizwizard Tournament, where one brave student-one of age, he emphasized-would be chosen as the Hogwarts' champion.
"A great honor." The Headmaster said.
Great honor? Draco dismissed the words with a scoff. More like a great death wish.
Father had told him and Harry about the Tournament, explaining the great honors that would be bestowed to the champion only after facing and possibly surviving the great dangers first. Father avoided being picked as did Grandfather, but Grandfather did have a friend who was picked to participate in the games and barely made it out alive. Apparently the friend spent the remainder of the year, along with an additional one, in therapy to heal from the horrors inflicted on him. It was that dangerous, that terrifying, and yet students were buzzing over the years, especially the Gryffindors too blinded by the promise of immense wealth to realize they might not live to enjoy it.
"How those Gryffindorks are so excited over a stupid little contest is beyond me." Draco commented as he and Harry walked into their dorm, their suitcases already unpacked and put away, a fire stirring inside the mantel, making the room nice and cozy.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You heard Dumbledore. Apparently it's a great honor."
"One that I will gladly be avoiding."
"Same," Harry agreed, then when he saw Draco's risen brow, explained, "I already had enough excitement last year. This year I just want to relax."
"You think that will be possible being the trouble-magnet Boy Who Lived?"
Draco regretted using that title as he noticed Harry stiffen for a moment, forgetting how much his best friend despised that name.
"Maybe it is, but that's all I can hope for more. Let someone else have the spotlight. They'll probably like it a lot better than I do."
And considering how much Harry hated the attention he gained from his scar and his faceoff with the Dark Lord, it wasn't too much of assumption. Especially when his fame came at the cost of his parents, which made him hate it even more. With that in mind, Draco nodded and tried to lighten the sudden somber mood by saying, "Well, your Hawaiian girl will be happy to know that she won't be a summer-widow after all."
Harry threw a pillow at his head for the comment, but Draco saw that his words worked just as he hoped, restoring the light in his eyes. "Don't say it like that. Kilia is a nice girl."
Kilia? So the skank had a name? "That's not what Zabini implied."
"You and I both know that Zabini lives to make up stories. One day he and his family came to Hawaii around the same time me, Sirius, and Remus were there. He ran into me and Kilia." Harry shrugged. "It would have been rude not to introduce them."
So it was important enough to introduce Little Miss Kilia to Blaise but not important enough to tell his own best friend about? The idea stung Draco more than he thought it would.
Almost as if Harry could read his thoughts, he said, "I didn't tell you because it was honestly nothing. Kilia was nice. We got along well, and became good friends. She actually tried to teach me how to surf and gave me a tour around the island."
In between tropical kisses and showing him the great wonders of Hawaii, a voice hissed in his head. Draco balled his hands into tight fists. "I see. A special friend you must have gotten along fine with."
"Draco, for Merlin's sake," Harry smacked his hand against his forehead. "We kissed a few times but that was it. No need to make a big deal out of it. Besides, didn't you say you had some fun in France?"
An image popped into his head of an attractive boy with short, dark-brown hair and mischievous hazel-green eyes. Anthon. A student just as miserable as Draco was at the retreat who proposed they do something to liven things up a bit, which was nice. Really nice and fun, but…
"Mmm," Draco muttered before a pair of arms wrapped around his torso.
"As nice of a friend Kilia was, she isn't my favorite person in the world," Harry assured. "That title is reserved for a very special person, who I happen to have a gift for."
Draco was already sold at favorite person. Very special eased the nausea churning in his stomach. Gift had him running to his bed, eagerly awaiting his present. He pulled out Harry's gift from his nightstand he specifically requested the house-elf to place it in, and grinned at the green-wrapped present Harry brought over.
While they could have sent their birthday gifts to each other via owl, it was much more fun exchanging them face-to-face, seeing their reactions up close. Draco hoped, though, this would be the last summer they'd be separate and have to do so.
"Sorry about the size." Harry handed him a thin, rectangular box.
Draco peeled off the cover. Nestled in black satin was a beautiful pendant, light shining from the thin golden chair and the tip of the white angel wings.
"Very funny." he commented, shoving a laughing Harry aside.
"I thought so." Draco shot him another glare, which caused more laughter to spill from his lips. "Okay, okay, here." Harry reached underneath the bed and pulled out another gift, bigger than the first one but thinner.
Inside was piano sheet music, several actually. One to the opera Mother arranged him to go see this summer despite the retreat's policy of being away from the premises that featured the most beautiful music he ever heard, another of his all-time favorite opera, and the other, Tarzan's You'll Be in My Heart. The last one tugged a smile on his lips.
"Since it's your favorite Disney song, I figured you'd want to play it on the piano." Harry said.
Grinning, Draco placed the presents beside him and handed Harry his gift. He was never more glad that he insisted they wait to give each other their presents otherwise he'd miss the wonder lighting Harry's face as he lifted several, soft-leather journals from the box along with a set of fine Quills worthy enough to be written in such books and special ink-jars that would never run empty.
"Since you love reading stories so much," Draco explained, a swell of pride blossoming in his chest as awestruck green eyes turned over to him. "I'd figure you'd want to write your own."
Harry opened one of the journals, a dove-gray one, and flipped through the fresh yellow pages that were just waiting to be covered in inked words. He placed the book carefully on the bed before he flung himself over to Draco, crashing him into a tight hug that nearly crushed his ribs, but had himself smiling nevertheless.
"God, I missed you."
"I missed you, too." More than he thought he ever would.
"Harry Potter."
Just two words. Two words that made up a name. Two small words that caused the Great Hall to explode into outraged cries and screams as Harry took slow steps over to the platform where the other champions were positioned at. Shock that caused shock to shake his body as he walked over to the platform like he was marching to the guillotine, the same vast shock coursing through Draco's veins as he watched him.
Words flowed from Dumbledore's mouth, explaining the history of the tournament and the significant of the goblet, but they were words that fell to deaf ears. Particularly Draco's. The blood rushing in his ears were too loud to hear anything else, except the frantic pounding of his heartbeat.
Harry was still shaking as he climbed off the platform, just as in time as hurricane Weasley flew over to him.
"You snake!" the redhead yelled. "You just can't help yourself, can you? Whatever excitement comes along, you just have to snatch it up like a glorified attention-seeker?"
Draco shrugged off Pansy's hold and charged towards them. He came in just in time to watch the shock vanish from Harry's eyes as they hardened into steel.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me!" Weasley spat. "You are really are a snake, aren't you? So how'd you do it, huh? How'd you cheat your way into the tournament? Did Malfoy help y-"
"If you seriously think that after everything I would do something like that," Harry spat, the venom in his voice fatal enough to kill on the spot. "Then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought! And a jerk!"
Harry knocked into him hard as he passed by. Draco couldn't resist shooting a stinging hex over at the weasel's arse for extra measure, delighted in the sound of the boy's pained cry and to see that the bottom of his trousers were torn, revealing red and gold boxers.
"Harry," Dumbledore called, the calmness in his eyes badly mixing with the tension grinding his voice. "a word."
A demand, not an invitation, one Harry had no choice but to oblige.
"Do you think he really entered himself?" A second-year asked, and then quickly backed away from the lethal glare Draco aimed at him.
It seemed like hours before Harry was finally released from Dumbledore's chambers. Draco waited for him on the opposite side of the door, staring up at the ceiling, studying its worn-out foundation and counting every crack he spotted to pass the time, sneering at the curious glances students flashed him as they passed.
When he heard the sound of the door, Draco straightened himself up. Harry was taken up back to find him there. But as shocked as he may have been, that wasn't his main concern.
"You believe me, right?" he asked. "I didn't put my name in the cup, I swear!"
Draco felt a frown pulling his mouth as he rolled his eyes. "Don't bother wasting your breath, Pot-"
An equally great amount of shock, hurt, and betrayal glowed in wide emerald-green before they hardened to anger, the thick steel sharper than they had been when they glared at Weasley. Harry spun on his heel and charged down the hall.
Draco pushed himself off the wall and chased after him, grabbing onto his arm and forcing him to halt. The fire roaring in Harry's eyes were just as fierce as the one swirling in Draco's own as the blond continued, "And telling me what I already know."
The fire swept away from Harry's eyes, leaving behind shock embers in their wake. For a moment, Harry stared at him as if Draco had spoken pig-Latin. "W-what?"
Draco folded his arms against his chest, staring him straight in the eye as he repeated, "Don't bother wasting your breath, Potter, and telling me what I already know."
"You," It took almost forever for the words to come out. "You mean-"
"I believe you." Draco told him.
Harry looked like he wasn't sure whether to pull Draco into a hug or cry in relief that there was someone who actually believed him. Fortunately for him, Draco made the decision, pulling him into a tight hug that was returned with same amount of bone-crushing fierceness.
Nearly every Slytherin was present in the common room, whispered conversations hissing through the air as the boys entered the room, close to hundreds of eyes fixed on Harry.
Questions were shot like Crucios, coming from nearly every direction, too many to count. Blaise thought shooting fireworks from his wand would silence the noise, but Pansy was already one step ahead.
She strode over to the coffee table, climbed on top, and screamed at the top of her lungs, "CAN IT, YOU TWITS!"
Silence fell over the room, silence that was slightly tampered by a groaning Theo rubbing his ears.
"Why, oh why, am I always close-by whenever you break into your shrieking fits?" he complained.
Pansy smiled sweetly at him. "Because you're so captivated by me, Nott."
"If by captivated you mean repulsed, then yes, absolutely. I completely agree."
Harry strode the center of the room before the two were locked in another argument. He took over Pansy's spot on the coffee table and swept his gaze around the room to make sure all eyes were on him. "I didn't put my name in the cup. Somehow, someway someone entered it and the cup picked it."
Murmurs broke out in the room, glances darting between friends and Harry.
"But," he went on. "I'm still going to compete."
What?! The words slammed into Draco like a punch, nearly knocking the air out of his lungs.
"I have to," Harry said. "And I plan on giving it everything I have."
Draco swallowed down the shock rattling in his body like a hard pill to plaster a smirk onto his face as he took his rightfully place by Harry's side. "Which means, boys and girls, that the Slytherin House has gained itself a new Champion. One who will win."
"To the Slytherin Tournament Champion!" Blaise cried, pumping his fist into the air.
"To the Slytherin Tournament Champion!" they all cheered, fists held high, pride flourishing from their faces.
Theo went to the library to do more research on the Tournament, dragging Blaise along since an extra set of eyes would be needed. Pansy went with Daphne to the Great Hall to scope the scene in hopes of stumbling across blurted-out information that could be useful. Draco dragged Harry back to their rooms so they could talk.
Harry was protesting the whole way there, but as soon as they were alone, Draco learned it was only halfheartedly. The poor boy looked as if he'd aged ten years, weary to the point of exhaustion. He didn't even bother taking off his shoes as he collapsed onto the bed, but he did roll over to Draco as the blond crawled into bed with him, collecting him in his arms.
"Thank you," Harry whispered. "For believing me."
Even though Harry told the weasel off, the boy's accusation still hurt him as much as it infuriated Draco. The goddamn idiot called himself a friend yet no problem hurtling accusations at him the second his name was called out.
The only reason the boy still had a tongue was because Draco was needed by Harry's side. The next time he came across the weasel, he'd give him a lot more than a stinging hex.
He brushed loose black strands away from those bright greens that glanced at him. "You're my best friend and my boy, which-" Makes you mine. "Which means there is no dishonesty and distrust between us," he said instead. "Plus I know you. Better than anyone."
"That you do," A smile touched Harry's face for a brief moment till it was chipped away by whatever memory surfaced in his head. "I'm scared, Draco."
He couldn't suppress the snort that ripped through his throat as he combed his fingers through Harry's hair. "I'd consider you the biggest idiot of all time if you brushed this off, thinking it's gonna be easy."
"I'm serious," Harry frowned. "After the strange dream, the World Quidditch-"
"What strange dream?" Draco demanded.
Harry then explained to him about the dream, more so nightmare, he had the night before the World Quidditch match of the Dark Lord, trying to recap whatever details he could still remember, which wasn't much.
"So you think this all ties together?" Draco asked.
"It has to," Harry said. "I mean think about it. The strange dream I had about Volder-" Harry noticed Draco's shuddering at the name and said "The Dark Lord. The attack at the World Quidditch Cup and his mark appearing in the sky. Now this? I didn't want any part of the tournament, but somehow my name was added to the cup. Not only that, but it was also picked out of the hundreds that were there."
Draco could see the connections coming together. It was too great of a coincidence to simply ignore. "Someone obviously added your name. Any guesses as to who?"
"No, none." Harry frowned as he stared off into space.
"Well it's clear that it's not your fault, which means you don't have to do it."
"If only it were that simple," Harry sighed. "Dumbledore said regardless of how it happened, the fact still remains that my name was drawn out. Thanks to that, I'm now bound in a contract."
What?! "What sort of contract?"
"One where I either participate in the tournament or I refuse and die."
Draco didn't know which shocked him more: Harry's answer or the flat tone in his voice as if he already accepted his fate. "Bull!"
"I don't like it anymore than you do, but it's true," Harry snapped. "I participate or I die. It's that simple."
Simple his arse. "And the great Dumbledore can't help you get out of the contract?"
"He said his hands are tied."
More like tied around the lemon drop he was possibly unwrapping right now. The man was said to be one of the greatest wizards of all time and yet he can't help a student-a underage student-get out of a tournament he didn't be even want to be apart of? Complete and utter bull.
"Then we'll go to Father," Draco proposed. "He'll find a way. He always does."
"If Dumbledore can't even-"
"You of all people, Potter, should know better than to underestimate a Malfoy," Draco smirked. "He'll find a way."
Draco was sure of it. Dumbledore may be a powerful wizard, but Father was an even more powerful politician who knew where and how to pull the right strings.
"And more importantly, I'll be right there with you every step of the way." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against his forehead.
He pulled back just in time to see Harry slowly shut his eyes, spotting a soft smile curling those pink lips. With his eyes still closed, Harry rested his cheek against the palm of Draco's hand, and then lifted his cheek slightly off his hand to place a gentle kiss against the center of his hand.
The touch was so faint, Draco could barely feel it and yet tremendous warmth flared from that spot like a pressure point, spreading like shockwaves through every line and curve of his hand.
Mine.
