Title: Idioteque (4/?)
Author: Jendle
E-mail: jenny.preston@virgin.net
Disclaimers: Not mine, JKR's, except for the title which is also the title of a song by the god-like geniuses Radiohead. Please don't sue me cos I'm skint enough as it is...
Spoilers: Don't think so...not yet, anyway.
Date: 12/11/01
Summary: Draco is staring at Harry, who is staring at Seamus.
Warnings: Slash. If you don't like, don't read.
Archive: Yes to the HPSlash archive, anywhere else just ask.
Notes: This is my response to a challenge, which went thusly: 'Draco threw back his head, laughing insanely until he realized the whole class was staring at him and sat down, blushing wildly.' And I have no idea where I found it, so please don't ask...
*
*
Harry could feel a glare shooting across the Potions lab from the direction of Malfoy as he and Seamus played footsie under the bench. He hoped Hermione noticed it too, because perhaps then she'd be convinced that Malfoy had only hate for him, and then she'd shut up. Why? Because he was happy with Seamus, that was it, and playing footsie with him under the bench was far preferable to merely staring at his arse from the bench behind.
He risked a glance over at Malfoy as he stood up to start preparing the potion, and caught the Slytherin in the act of staring. Oh. That wasn't a glare, not at him, anyway. That was like the look in the dining room the other day, but more intense and sadder. Where had he got all that from? Intuition? But that wasn't the point. The point was that it looked more like Hermione was right, and if Hermione was right he was a mere legacy, house, and side-in-the-upcoming-war away from what he was sure could possibly be happiness.
Seamus prodded him. "You alright? You look confused."
"It's Potions. What do you expect?" Harry replied with a mock sigh and gave his boyfriend a more or less convincing grin.
Without warning, Snape loomed above them. "Would you kindly stop canoodling and pay attention to your potion before it boils over, Potter, Finnegan?" he said. It wasn't a question. Harry and Seamus quickly busied themselves respectively with turning down the head and stirring the potion as Snape swept away to bestow praise and points in the Slytherin half of the class.
*
Draco once more tore his gaze away from a certain Gryffindor bench as Snape started paying attention to his half of the room. Potter had seen that look, and almost recognised it, he told himself. Damn. If Potter found out about - those feelings that he didn't actually have, seeing as he was just going through a phase - then there would be hell to pay and he'd never be able to look him or the Weasel in the eye again, let alone make them feel like the insignificant scum they were...the Weasel was, anyway. Oh, hell. Just a phase, just a phase, just a phase, he repeated in his head like a mantra.
And he definitely didn't have a hard-on at the idea of Potter playing footsie, either. No way, nope, not at all. He shifted slightly on his stool in order to discreetly rearrange his robes.
*
"Hello? Hermione, are you in there?" Harry asked for the third time as Hermione stared thoughtfully into her soup that evening.
"Wha? Oh, sorry, I was miles away," she said distractedly.
"You still are," Ron pointed out. "What's up?"
"Nothing..." she said, this time looking over Harry's shoulder at someone.
Harry shrugged and went back to the Quidditch conversation he was having with Seamus and Ron. Without warning, Hermione jumped up and left the hall, almost running. Ron shrugged bemusedly.
"Leave her," he said. "She's been acting weird all day. Probably some Arithmancy problem."
Harry had an odd feeling that whatever was bothering Hermione was more than Arithmancy, but he left it anyway with the firm thought that if it was that important, she would have mentioned it.
*
Draco had left the Great Hall early, fed up of seeing the way Potter and Finnegan were sitting so close together. He'd wandered outside to avoid going back to the Slytherin dungeon, and was now sitting by the lake in twilight, throwing stones in the vague hope of attracting the legendary monster to the surface to eat him and save him from all the excessive Harry- thoughts.
"Why don't you tell him," someone said from behind him. Draco jumped and nearly fell into the lake when turned around and saw the Mudblood standing there.
"I beg your pardon?" he said icily.
"Tell Harry," she said patiently. "I'm not blind, even if the rest of the school is."
"What are you talking about?" he asked, in what he hoped was a convincingly confused and patronising tone.
"I've been watching you watching him watching Seamus," she said.
"What?" he asked again, then gave up when she shook her head once. What was the point? "How could you tell?"
"Like I said, I'm not blind. Besides, what's so erotic about Potions that you can sit there with an erection for half the lesson?"
Draco blanched. This was Hermione Granger, alluding to his erection over her best friend with no more concern than she would allow to a fairly easy History of Magic essay. "And what makes you so sure telling him would do me any good? Or is this just another Gryffindor scheme to make me look stupid?"
"Because I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not watching. It's not like the way he looks at Seamus. It's like the way Percy Weasley looks at Oliver Wood?"
"Excuse me? Weasley and Wood?"
"Yes, but Oliver's too obsessed with Quidditch to notice it, the bloody fool, but then Percy hasn't noticed Oliver when he's not playing Quidditch. Stop changing the subject."
"Bossy," he said. Wait - did the Mudblood just swear? Well, you learn something new every day, he thought. Wait - listen to what she said before she mentioned Weasley and Wood. "Oh." Then. "Oh, don't be so dense, Granger. There's no way he'd ever think of me like that."
"That's more or less what Harry said when I mentioned you to him yesterday. That's about when I noticed what his looks meant."
Draco blinked. "You spoke about me to him?"
"Of course I did, he's my best friend. I'd tell Ron if it was him."
Draco had an odd memory of an old Muggle book he'd read once, about an odd girl called Emma who kept sticking her nose in other people's lives. The Mudblood seemed to be turning into her, and he said as much.
She laughed. "I wouldn't have thought Jane Austen was your style."
He mumbled something about Muggle Studies, and she laughed again. He glared. "Look, who asked your opinion, anyway? It's just a phase, it doesn't need you sticking your nose in."
"Just a phase? Come off it, Draco," she said more seriously. "For me, Victor Krum was just a phase. For Harry, it was Cho Chang. Don't belittle this."
"Fuck off," he said sourly. "Bloody Mudblood, getting involved in things that have nothing to do with you."
She gave him a sharp look. "You'll want to get out of that attitude. We're all Mudbloods somewhere along the line. Remember what I said, and go and talk to him." She turned and walked away before Draco could think of a good reply.
*
*
Author: Jendle
E-mail: jenny.preston@virgin.net
Disclaimers: Not mine, JKR's, except for the title which is also the title of a song by the god-like geniuses Radiohead. Please don't sue me cos I'm skint enough as it is...
Spoilers: Don't think so...not yet, anyway.
Date: 12/11/01
Summary: Draco is staring at Harry, who is staring at Seamus.
Warnings: Slash. If you don't like, don't read.
Archive: Yes to the HPSlash archive, anywhere else just ask.
Notes: This is my response to a challenge, which went thusly: 'Draco threw back his head, laughing insanely until he realized the whole class was staring at him and sat down, blushing wildly.' And I have no idea where I found it, so please don't ask...
*
*
Harry could feel a glare shooting across the Potions lab from the direction of Malfoy as he and Seamus played footsie under the bench. He hoped Hermione noticed it too, because perhaps then she'd be convinced that Malfoy had only hate for him, and then she'd shut up. Why? Because he was happy with Seamus, that was it, and playing footsie with him under the bench was far preferable to merely staring at his arse from the bench behind.
He risked a glance over at Malfoy as he stood up to start preparing the potion, and caught the Slytherin in the act of staring. Oh. That wasn't a glare, not at him, anyway. That was like the look in the dining room the other day, but more intense and sadder. Where had he got all that from? Intuition? But that wasn't the point. The point was that it looked more like Hermione was right, and if Hermione was right he was a mere legacy, house, and side-in-the-upcoming-war away from what he was sure could possibly be happiness.
Seamus prodded him. "You alright? You look confused."
"It's Potions. What do you expect?" Harry replied with a mock sigh and gave his boyfriend a more or less convincing grin.
Without warning, Snape loomed above them. "Would you kindly stop canoodling and pay attention to your potion before it boils over, Potter, Finnegan?" he said. It wasn't a question. Harry and Seamus quickly busied themselves respectively with turning down the head and stirring the potion as Snape swept away to bestow praise and points in the Slytherin half of the class.
*
Draco once more tore his gaze away from a certain Gryffindor bench as Snape started paying attention to his half of the room. Potter had seen that look, and almost recognised it, he told himself. Damn. If Potter found out about - those feelings that he didn't actually have, seeing as he was just going through a phase - then there would be hell to pay and he'd never be able to look him or the Weasel in the eye again, let alone make them feel like the insignificant scum they were...the Weasel was, anyway. Oh, hell. Just a phase, just a phase, just a phase, he repeated in his head like a mantra.
And he definitely didn't have a hard-on at the idea of Potter playing footsie, either. No way, nope, not at all. He shifted slightly on his stool in order to discreetly rearrange his robes.
*
"Hello? Hermione, are you in there?" Harry asked for the third time as Hermione stared thoughtfully into her soup that evening.
"Wha? Oh, sorry, I was miles away," she said distractedly.
"You still are," Ron pointed out. "What's up?"
"Nothing..." she said, this time looking over Harry's shoulder at someone.
Harry shrugged and went back to the Quidditch conversation he was having with Seamus and Ron. Without warning, Hermione jumped up and left the hall, almost running. Ron shrugged bemusedly.
"Leave her," he said. "She's been acting weird all day. Probably some Arithmancy problem."
Harry had an odd feeling that whatever was bothering Hermione was more than Arithmancy, but he left it anyway with the firm thought that if it was that important, she would have mentioned it.
*
Draco had left the Great Hall early, fed up of seeing the way Potter and Finnegan were sitting so close together. He'd wandered outside to avoid going back to the Slytherin dungeon, and was now sitting by the lake in twilight, throwing stones in the vague hope of attracting the legendary monster to the surface to eat him and save him from all the excessive Harry- thoughts.
"Why don't you tell him," someone said from behind him. Draco jumped and nearly fell into the lake when turned around and saw the Mudblood standing there.
"I beg your pardon?" he said icily.
"Tell Harry," she said patiently. "I'm not blind, even if the rest of the school is."
"What are you talking about?" he asked, in what he hoped was a convincingly confused and patronising tone.
"I've been watching you watching him watching Seamus," she said.
"What?" he asked again, then gave up when she shook her head once. What was the point? "How could you tell?"
"Like I said, I'm not blind. Besides, what's so erotic about Potions that you can sit there with an erection for half the lesson?"
Draco blanched. This was Hermione Granger, alluding to his erection over her best friend with no more concern than she would allow to a fairly easy History of Magic essay. "And what makes you so sure telling him would do me any good? Or is this just another Gryffindor scheme to make me look stupid?"
"Because I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not watching. It's not like the way he looks at Seamus. It's like the way Percy Weasley looks at Oliver Wood?"
"Excuse me? Weasley and Wood?"
"Yes, but Oliver's too obsessed with Quidditch to notice it, the bloody fool, but then Percy hasn't noticed Oliver when he's not playing Quidditch. Stop changing the subject."
"Bossy," he said. Wait - did the Mudblood just swear? Well, you learn something new every day, he thought. Wait - listen to what she said before she mentioned Weasley and Wood. "Oh." Then. "Oh, don't be so dense, Granger. There's no way he'd ever think of me like that."
"That's more or less what Harry said when I mentioned you to him yesterday. That's about when I noticed what his looks meant."
Draco blinked. "You spoke about me to him?"
"Of course I did, he's my best friend. I'd tell Ron if it was him."
Draco had an odd memory of an old Muggle book he'd read once, about an odd girl called Emma who kept sticking her nose in other people's lives. The Mudblood seemed to be turning into her, and he said as much.
She laughed. "I wouldn't have thought Jane Austen was your style."
He mumbled something about Muggle Studies, and she laughed again. He glared. "Look, who asked your opinion, anyway? It's just a phase, it doesn't need you sticking your nose in."
"Just a phase? Come off it, Draco," she said more seriously. "For me, Victor Krum was just a phase. For Harry, it was Cho Chang. Don't belittle this."
"Fuck off," he said sourly. "Bloody Mudblood, getting involved in things that have nothing to do with you."
She gave him a sharp look. "You'll want to get out of that attitude. We're all Mudbloods somewhere along the line. Remember what I said, and go and talk to him." She turned and walked away before Draco could think of a good reply.
*
*
