"Malfoy."
The cool hand placed on my shoulder and the whisper made me look up into his face and the deep, emerald eyes.
"Tonight, midnight, up at the top of the Astronomy tower. Meet me."
"What?" My face must have displayed my confusion as he squeezed my shoulder with a small grin and moved onwards.
"Draco, what was that about?" Crabbe leant across the table.
"I… honestly don't know," I replied. "He told me to meet him at midnight up the Astronomy tower."
"Want us to come?" Goyle asked, an ugly sneer on his lips, his knuckles tightening.
I hesitated, and almost accepted the offer. "Y… erm, no."
"Huh? Why?"
Biting my lip, I looked in the direction that Harry went in. He sat across the table from Weasley and Granger, and chatted happily to them.
"I want to go alone."
"But what if…"
I turned a venomous glare on the unfortunate Gregory.
He was quiet and continued shovelling food into his mouth greedily.
Feeling nauseous at the sight of the mashed up food in his mouth, I pushed back my chair and stalked from the room, trying to look haughty.
Outside, I collapsed against the wall, my stomach churning nervously. Harry Potter wants to see me, up in the Astronomy Tower, at midnight that night.
What did that sound like, other than a date?
A small smile slowly teased my lips. Me, Draco, on a date with the legendary Harry Potter. Five years of lusting, wanting, dreaming, has boiled down to this: midnight in the astronomy tower.
I stood and almost bounced down to the Slytherin tower.
"Password?" asked the portrait.
"Har… uh…"
She looked at me quizzically.
"I mean, uhm, pig's blood." I smiled, trying to look confident and not as if Harry 'Fuck Me' Potter was invading my every sense.
She swung aside for me to go in.
As I climbed through the wall, I noticed the fact that my cheeks were stained red with – exhilaration? excitement? happiness? – in the mirror.
"Why're you so happy, Drac?" drawled fat Pansy as I think of her.
I narrowed my eyes at her.
"Sorry, I'm sure you weren't happy. The smile was a twitch, the sparkling eyes were cataracts," she replied, rolling her eyes. Blaise, sitting next to her, nudged her with a stupid smirk.
"Ooh, Draco's in love!" Pansy announced.
My cheeks went even redder. "Shut the hell up, pizza face."
She started giggling. "It's true! He didn't deny it!"
As I turned and dashed up the stairs to my dormitory, I heard taunting shouts of 'Oh my God! Draco actually has emotions!' and 'I wouldn't like to be the girl who broke his heart!'
And then the most harsh, from Pansy again. "Oh yeah, like he actually has one."
Little does she know, I found myself thinking.
Little does she know. I have more of a heart than she ever could, I thought, biting my lip.
But if that's what someone in my house thinks, what about Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw?
Gryffindor?
Harry?
But he can't think that. I mean, he asked me out.
Harry. Potter. Asked. Me. Out.
Me. Draco Malfoy. The runty little bastard from Slytherin. He wants to go out with me. The Boy Who Lived wants to see me. He likes me.
In a girlish gesture that, looking back, I'm not altogether proud of, I hugged my pillow.
Midnight in the astronomy tower.
Meet me.
That night, I couldn't have fallen asleep if I'd tried. I got silently out of bed at twenty to twelve and put on my favourite robes. Sapphire coloured, jewel coloured, sapphire that matched Harry's emerald and the sapphire that glinted in my eyes.
I padded in my sneakers up winding staircases, my heart pounding not only from the exercise. At last I reached the final staircase. Suddenly nervous, I swallowed, and continued climbing stairs.
My palms sweating, I glanced around. The four walls were made of glass, for better observation. All but one. This wall was normal brick, and had a door in. I pushed it open.
"Harry?" I called softly, my voice shaking.
A light flashed on, and a heavy weight landed on my back. Someone started laughing and giggling. "Oh my God, he actually came! Harry, this was good!"
Unable to take in what was happening, I blinked.
The heavy weight, which, I presumed, had been the body of Weasley, was off my back, was now leaning, guffawing helplessly, against a wall.
Hermione, hiccupping slightly because of her giggles, walked towards me. "Malfoy, why'd you actually come? Why didn't you figure this was a joke?"
Her eyes bulged, and her head shot round.
And that was when I saw him. Sitting on a bench and grinning sardonically at me. "Malfoy, you stupid little fucker…"
"Harry," Granger stuttered, "this means that we were right, he does… y'know…" She turned back to me. "Where're your goons?"
"What?"
"Those big idiots. Crabbe and Goyle."
"I… didn't ask them to come." Even to me, my voice sounds different. Quiet. Resigned. Well, it would do. My heart had just shattered.
"See?" Weasley said. "I was right, Harry, he thought you were serious. He does fancy you."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Eww…"
"I do not!" I squeaked.
"Do."
Weasley's tone was derisive. Derisive enough for me to fly at him, punching, kicking. I'm small, a lot shorter and lighter than him, but I was mad. Really, really mad. Humiliated and confused. And, as Narcissa always used to say, "Sometimes the devil gets into that boy."
I knocked him to the floor and drove my fist into his face, one, two, three times.
Harry sprung into action. "Malfoy, get the hell off him, you bloody lunatic." He tried to pull my arms back, but I managed to slam my elbow back into his stomach, and he sank back, winded.
A trickle of blood oozed from Weasley's nose. And he started fighting back. His right fist caught me on the cheek, and I rolled off him quickly, standing up. He rose as well, and carried on trying to hit me. But I'm good. I dodged, time and time again, managing to land a few excellent punches to his gut.
Without noticing, we got closer, and closer, to the stairwell.
With one well-aimed blow to his chin, Ron's body slanted backwards. He toppled down the stairs with a long shout.
Everything froze.
All I could see was Ron's still, spread-eagled body at the base of the staircase, his face pale under the shock of the red hair.
"Ron?" A small noise came from Hermione. Then she flung herself down the stairs to him and started patting his cheeks, kissing his forehead, shaking his shoulders.
I stood still next to Harry, who was shaking his head slowly, as if in disbelief.
"Malfoy, I knew you were a horrible, cruel, sly, little asshole, but I never knew you could do something like this. You sicken me." His voice was cold. Flat. Then he clattered down the stairs after Hermione.
He raised his head and looked directly at me, his eyes cold, no longer deep and ocean-coloured, but flat, cats-eyes. "Malfoy. Get McGonagall."
With one last, horrified glance at Hermione, in tears, Ron, still, white, and Harry, horrified, furious, I fled down the stairs, over them, and flew down the corridor.
My footsteps echoed in the silent school, banging out a rhythm.
What have I done? What have I done?
And a nagging little voice.
He'll hate you forever now.
A single tear dribbled down my cheek. I didn't bother to wipe it away. I kept sprinting.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Goddammit.
Author's Note: OK, please review. I'd appreciate it muchly.
~~And we all love slashyisms…~~
