Thank you Ines, for the nice email :) and to all of the rest of you who reviewed. I've been giddy all day thinking about it. Well, in this chapter, Draco an-
wait a sec, that wouldn't be right- you have to READ the chapter to find out :) Well, slash should be coming soon, although maybe not quite yet. By the
way, just thought I'd add something: I cannot try to figure out how everything that really happened in the first book would happen if Harry was in
Slytherin, I'd confuse to living daylights out of myself, so I've decided to completely wipe away everything that's happened: aka, the sorceror's stone?
Never left the hands of Nicholas Flamel. Get it? Got it? Good! Review, review, review, people, encourage me to write more. Flamers will be served with
leftover thanksgiving turkey! Biya!
~Lauren
PS: I saw Harry Potter (the movie)) for the fourth time tonight!
Yay!
**three weeks later**
"Harry! Hurry up you git, we'll be late for breakfast!" laughed a loud voice very close to Harry's head. Harry looked up in confusion, his eyes fluttering open and squinting, trying to adjust to the light. Slowly, he began to make out a fuzzy blonde blob standing two feet away from him.
Groaning, he slapped his hand onto his bedtime table and felt around for his glasses. He picked them up the thin wire frames, and st them on his face. As soon as the cool metal touched the bridge of his nose, he recognized the rest of Draco, now crystal clear instead of fuzzy.
"'Morning Draco." he mumbled, plopping one foot at a time lazily off the side of his bed. "What's the time?"
"It's time for you to move your lazy ass, put on a robe, and run down to breakfast with me," he yawned. "Don't sit around there all day!"
Harry laughed half-heartedly, still halfway between sleep and consiousness. He grabbed his robe, slipped it over his head, grabbed his wand, and joined Draco in walking down the spiral staircase. As they slumped through the Slytherin Common Room, Harry pointed his wand at his mouth and mumbled "Dentitosa Brushorum," to make up for the fact that he had skipping his usual morning teeth-brushing and didn't fancy the idea of going through the day breathing the smell of a dead animal on his classmates. After exiting the painting hole, they rushed as quickly as they could to breakfast- hunger serving as a strong motivation.
They walked into the main hall and past the Gryffindor table to Slytherin. Pansy greeted them with a small wave and a smile ((obviously directed more towards Harry)), Crabbe and Goyle with slaps on the back. Many Slytherins leaned down the long table to wave hello, or something of the sort. Harry just smiled meekly, and lightly buttered his toast.
"So Harry- I woke up around one forty five this morning, and I thought I heard noises coming from your canopy," Goyle smirked. "Anybody . . . in there?"
Harry's eyes rolled once again. "No, for the last time, it was JUST ME! You've asked me this a million times since the year started."
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled at him, and Draco laughed quietly along with them. "Right, Harry," he said. "Nobody. At all. Not even . . "
Upon saying this, his eyes flickered over to Pansy
Parkinson sitting nearby. Harry smiled and shook his head, and Draco
winked in response. Harry's heart skipped a beat,
and his stomach did a one-man acrobatics show.
Suddenly he realized that this wasn't because of Pansy, it was because of . . . Draco? He frowned.
"Errrr, Drac, I'm not feeling too well- I think I
might lie down for a bit." He pushed in his chair and headed upstairs.
What would happen if these feelings for Draco never
turned out to be in his imagination? Perhaps he could get through that.
Perhaps.
**later that night**
Harry lay awake thinking for the second night in a row. It was peaceful late at night--or early in the morning, however you'd like to think of it--with nobody awake, with no hustle and bustle, no classes, no noise. The first few weeks had been busy, but not wrongly so. A lot had been covered in classes and with friends, and Harry felt as if he'd lived in the castle for a thousand years. He was tired, there was no doubt about that, but however hard he tried, sleep would not come. Feeling defeated, he stared up at the green velvet canopy above him, counting the ripples. Green. For Slytherin. He wasn't quite sure what that stood for yet, but he had a small grasp. The Slytherins seemed to be tougher, more drawn back and cool. From the small taste he'd had of a Slytherin lifestyle, he didn't always feel like he belonged. Sure, he didn't have any problems--but he'd felt strangely innocent, somehow oblivious to the dark forces, and that just wasn't common in his house. A few times he'd even felt . . . well . . . too nice. But Draco was starting to fix that. When he was with him, Slytherin didn't seem all that far away.
Draco Malfoy, that seemingly devious boy with the silver blonde hair. Hilarious, he was; popular too. He knew the right people, had all the connections; but Harry could tell in the short time that he'd befriended Draco that there was slightly more to him than the tough exterior he showed the world. He'd seen a sliver of a true smile protruding from that trademark sneer and saucy smirk. A perfect smile, the kind that makes you question a person's personality; a persuasive sort of smile that was allmost haunting. And his eyes? They were the most amazing he had ever seen- they far beat Hermione's, and even outshined his own emerald eyes. Draco's eyes reminded Harry of snowstorms- a light, chilling blue-gray; you could perhaps describe them as icy.
Maybe, Harry thought, there's a fire behind those eyes that needs only one spark . . .
Harry gasped. His mind had finally wandered too far- when he started viewing his new friends- new MALE friends- in that way, he knew it was time to get to sleep. Groaning, he curled onto side and buried his face in his pillow. Damn, I can feel my ears turning pink again . . . good thing there's no Draco to notice- boy, would he be surprised if he ever knew why!
He tried to block all thoughts of Draco out of his head as he rolled back over onto his back. He was a friend! He hardly knew him at all! And a guy . . . Harry sighed, and rolled his eyes at his ridiculous state- after all, it was only a dark thought, sneaking into his head after an exciting day at 2:30 in the morning. It meant nothing, right? Right. Now it's two thirty AM, I need to go to sleeeeeep!
Finally running out of ideas to lull him to sleep, he just
gave up. His own crowded thoughts lulled him to sleep, and rather
quickly. Yes, things will all be better in the morning.
You like, you like? I rewrote it, if you didn't know. ^_^ Well, like it? Ryan gave me the idea to switch the timing, and I rewrote quite a bit of the second part. Review, review!!