DISCLAIMER: I am not JK Rowling and the world of Harry Potter does not
belong to me. I wish it did, but it doesn't. I am making no money off this
trifle of a story.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Across from the Great Hall, Harry could see Draco Malfoy sitting at the Slytherin table, head bent and picking at his breakfast. For the past ten minutes, Hermione had been going on about last weeks Charms lesson but Harry wasn't really sure what she was saying. Any words she had said were flowing through his head without registering. His thoughts and vision only cared about, wanted to keep focus on Draco.
Once or twice, Draco had tried to make conversation with Crabbe and Goyle but all that provoked were grunts in reply and they would go back to eating breakfast. Draco's mind was thumping without mercy and even a conversation with Pansy Parkinson was starting to look good if it could get his mind off the hollow feeling in his chest. Pushing away his plate, Draco looked up and across the Great hall to the Gryffindor table. His eyes ran along the faces of Gryffindor house members before locking with the green eyes that belonged to Harry Potter.
And why was Potter staring at him? Draco stiffened in his seat, eyes going hard. There was no way he was going to let Potter see him feeling open and vulnerable. Draco would sooner tell his father that he was a muggle lover before he would give Potter the satisfaction of seeing him weak. He refused to look away first and he could see Harry shifting, becoming uncomfortable under Draco's watchful eye. Good. That was what Draco wanted.
Tired of being stared at, Draco stood up from his seat and motioned for Crabbe and Goyle not to follow. More and more time lately, Draco found that he wanted to be alone without anyone to see him wallow. He especially didn't want Potter around while he wallowed, not that he wanted Potter staring at him from across the Great Hall either. Draco sighed as he stepped outside and the grass began to crunch under his shoes. Today he had double potions with Snape, a class that the Slytherins had with the Gryffindors, which meant that Potter would be there. Staring at him. He liked potions enough because Snape always tended to favor him but even that wouldn't make up for Potter staring.
As Draco walked around the Hogwarts ground, his thoughts on Harry weighed heavy on his mind. Whenever Draco would catch sight of Potter's eyes, the green was always frigid and icy. They held no warmth for him whatsoever, except for when he caught them today. Somehow they had defrosted and though they weren't exactly warm, there was something more than the usual icy glare.
"I hate you, Potter," Draco mumbled, kicking at a small pile of autumn leaves that had fallen from their trees. That statement, however, was nothing but a lie. The two definitely were not friends, nor were they even civil to each other. Enemies was the only word to use for it and provided the most accurate definition possible.
Draco dropped to the grass, stretching his legs out before him as he leaned back, balanced by his palms pressed flat against the grass. His head lolled back, pale face bent toward the sky and the sunlight beat down on his skin. Lashes left butterfly kisses against his cheeks as they fluttered before dropping the full way closed. The soft pink flesh of his lips parted as the fresh air was sucking into his lungs in long, even strides.
Harry Potter. Draco had been thinking of him a lot lately. Even tried to stop the thoughts but he was unsuccessful. For someone who disliked Harry so intensely, Draco did seem to think of him a lot. But then again, hadn't someone once said that there was a fine line between love and hate, and that after love, hate was the strongest human emotion?
Draco sat up suddenly, his eyelids popping open to reveal a set of shocked silver eyes. Love and hate? There was only hate here. No one ever said anything about love, not that it would matter if someone did. Love was nothing but a fairy tale ideal. If love existed, he had never felt it, and he never would. Hate was a different story. Hate was real. Hate was the strongest human emotion. The only human emotion in Lucius Malfoy's book and if it was good enough for Lucius, it was good enough for Draco.
From the hedges, Harry could see Draco's body visibly relax, going limp after being so tense. After Draco had excused himself from the Slytherin table, Harry had tried to forget it and concentrate on his breakfast. His curiosity, however, got the better of him and Harry found himself leaving the Gryffindor table and heading outside before he could stop his feet. Figuring there was no use in going back now, Harry surveyed the grounds until he found Draco standing not too far away.
He crept over, sliding behind the hedges. Between the branches, Harry could see Draco shuffling through the leaves. That was around the time Draco said, "I hate you, Potter," and dropped to the grass. At first, Harry's body had gone rigid, fearful that Draco knew he was there, watching, but he made no other sign of this knowledge and Harry allowed himself to relax.
There Draco sat, only a few feet away from where Harry hid. He was an enigma, his personality ambiguous, and part of Harry's new thrill with Draco was not only the enemy roadblock, but the mystery as well. Under the sun's rays, Draco seemed to give off an unnatural, pale glow that's beauty was rare, leaving Harry breathless. His eyes roamed over the definition of Draco's pointed features but that sight was taken from him as Malfoy bolted up as if coming out of a slumber. Harry held his breath, only daring to release it again when Draco had calmed down. He watched Malfoy basking under the sun, lips pulled taut into a scowl. Draco's entire face was a window into his soul, and at that moment, Draco's desperation, vulnerability, and hopelessness was more apparent in one scowl than in his voice the night before.
No words could possibly justify the defeat Harry viewed in the thin lines of that pallor face. With every passing second of that sight, now burned in the back of his mind, Harry could feel his heart tighten in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to go comfort Malfoy, put hope and color back into his world. No thought could be stranger or more foreign to Harry, having hated Malfoy with the fire of a thousand suns for years now. Comforting Malfoy would never have been on his top list of priorities, but somehow, it was there now.
It took every ounce of Harry's will to hold himself back from going to Malfoy's side. The boy he hated, or thought he hated, sat beaten before him and hell if Harry knew how to fix him. Was he even supposed to want to fix him, and if so, would Malfoy dare let him close enough? Harry, somehow, didn't think so. Draco had seen him staring at breakfast and the stare that he sent back was so cold that Harry almost fell back into hating him. One of the things plaguing Harry's mind the night before had clicked just then. It was all an act and Draco played the cold and heartless bastard like a puppet on a string. Only that explanation could excuse the melancholy loneliness that haunted Draco while coinciding with his arrogance and mock superiority to Harry.
Just as the puzzle pieces were fitting together in Harry's head, he caught movement, and watched with sad and regretful eyes as Draco stood. Turning on the spot, he strolled past Harry's hiding place and headed inside the school. He was upset at having that vision taken away from him but Harry sighed, knowing that he, too, must get inside for classes. Classes. Today was double Potions and Harry's heart skipped a beat, a rare occasion when Potions was concerned. Professor Snape hated him and perhaps that would be enough to ruin Harry's good mood, but Gryffindor had Potions with Slytherin. Slytherin meant Draco Malfoy.
Wandering back inside, Harry headed for the Gryffindor tower, hoping to get his things and walk with Ron and Hermione. Being between the love tension was not his first choice of locale, but Harry felt the need to make up for his distance this morning and the night before.
Upon arrival, Ron and Hermione were already waiting for him with their things. Harry passed them just long enough to collect his belongings and return. "Let's go, shall we?" said Harry, motioning to the portrait hole.
They passed through and headed for classes. The day went fine, Harry able to force himself to concentrate on his schoolwork in Herbology, Transfiguration, and Charms. By lunch, he was feeling better than he had that morning but the first sight of Draco derailed him and he was back to being mush. They had some time before Potions so they headed back to the Gryffindor common room.
Their conversation was brief and before they could keep up with time, all three were standing up and leaving the portrait hole, heading for the dungeons where Snape's classroom was located. Hermione and Ron were unusually silent behind Harry as they made their dreaded descent. Potions was Harry's least favorite class but he could deal today as long as Draco Malfoy was going to be there. Even Hermione was less than thrilled when it came to Potions and she had a passion for schoolwork that surpassed any passion Harry had ever seen. Except maybe his own newly discovered passion for watching Draco.
That wasn't exactly a passion, though. At least that was what Harry tried to tell himself. He was intrigued by Draco's complex and dual nature, wanted to know more about and understand him. Harry was curious as to what made Draco always look so dead and empty. He wanted to make the life come back into those eyes. It wasn't a passion. It was intrigue and curiosity. Nothing else.
So deep in thought, Harry missed the last step and almost tripped, his belongings sprawled across the floor. Ron and Hermione bent down beside him, scooping up books, parchments, and quills.
"Nice one, Potter," Draco said in his infamous drawl. He stepped over Harry to walk into the classroom. He turned, snickered, and disappeared though the doorway into class, shaking his head. "Very graceful."
"Ignore him, Harry," said Ron, handing him his book. "Draco Malfoy is not only a waste of a wizard, but also a waste of flesh and oxygen. Don't let him bother you."
Harry nodded as he collected his things and followed where Draco had gone. He figured there was no point in telling Ron that he wasn't bothered by Draco's comment. Draco had said much worse to him before than that and the only thing that bothered him was Draco's reserve. Maybe if he had at least had venom dripping from his words, there would be some emotion. Maybe then Harry wouldn't feel so nervous about Draco's well-being.
Walking into class, all eyes turned on Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They slunk to their seats, Harry's eyes falling on the familiar sight of the back of Draco's head. Harry tried to pull his eyes away and focus on Snape's words, but every time he was in a room with Draco, his eyes were magnetized to Draco and his beauty.
"Mr. Potter," Professor Snape interrupted, his voice snapping at Harry. "We are working on a sleeping potion today. I'm pairing you with Mr. Weasley. I expect that your potion will be perfect, seeing as how you were paying such close attention. Maybe we'll have to give it a little try at the end of class."
Harry nodded, swallowing hard and sinking low in his seat. Working with Ron was fine by Harry, the two being best friends, but by pairing them together, Snape had practically guaranteed them failure. His heart sunk low at the thought of a test try, imagining horrific boils breaking out onto his skin and what made it worse, all of it would happen in front of Draco, whom his eyes were still on. Malfoy turned around, his eyes falling on Harry's, and the glare from this morning at breakfast returned. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to ignore the burning sensation running along his esophagus and into the pit of his stomach.
"Harry," Ron's voice broke through his daze and the locked gazes of their eyes ceased. Blinking as if to clear his mind of the mesmerization, Harry turned to see Ron had gathered all the ingredients they would need, and was standing before Harry, waiting for a response.
"Sorry, Ron. I don't know where my mind has been," Harry apologized. "It seems that my mind just won't stay in one place before it goes off and gets foggy again."
"Its alright," Ron said, setting out to prepare the wormwood. "We all get a little foggy ever once and again. Just try and focus on the potion for now. I can forgive you but I'm not so sure that Snape will be as keen."
Nodding, Harry smiled and began helping Ron with his task. "Thanks," he mumbled and Ron looked at Harry, smiling.
"Anytime. You're my friend and I'm willing to give you your space. If you will, please do come and tell me what's fogging up your mind," requested Ron. "Only when you feel ready, of course."
"I appreciate that, Ron," replied Harry.
They worked together on the potion, actually managing to make proper progress without too many mistakes or minor setbacks. Every now and then, Harry's eyes would drift up to land on Draco across the room. Together with Goyle, they were making a mess out of their potion, unusual for Malfoy, whose best subject was Potions. It wasn't even entirely due to Snape's partiality to Malfoy, though that never hindered Draco's performance before. Today, however, he was a making a mess out of things and Snape didn't have the time to check even Neville's progress as Draco's cauldron bubbled over.
Potions ended and the rest of the class was released, Professor Snape asking Draco to stay behind. Wandering outside with Ron and Hermione, Harry couldn't tear his eyes from the hedges where he twice had hid, observing the way Draco acted when he thought nobody was watching. Judging by his reaction to catching Harry stare at breakfast and in Potions, he really wouldn't be pleased knowing where else Harry had been observing him. Wouldn't be pleased at all with Harry's sudden fascination with him, Harry trying to figure him out.
Most of all, Draco wouldn't be pleased that he had let his guard down and was so careless that he didn't even know his soul was painted clear across his face. If he knew, Harry could already tell, Draco would be more upset with how careless he had grown, more disappointed in himself. Being exposed as a fraud, a charlatan, only masquerading as a younger version of his father, would be secondary. Secondary to his embarrassment. Secondary to the pain he would feel about himself.
Already Harry could read Draco like an open book. His every thought and feeling was expressed in his eyes, the set of his lips, or the way his body moved. He walked between Ron and Hermione, but all he could see was Draco. How he had known Malfoy for so long and never noticed how it was all a facade, all an act, Harry would never know. Never before had he noticed just how expressive Draco's eyes were or just how dull they had turned.
Were Draco's eyes always so dull and lifeless or was this a recent development? Either way, Harry felt that he couldn't breathe when he was standing so near to Draco and feeling the negative vibes radiating from him. He felt that he would feel Draco's pain on a very minuscule level. In turn, that pain clawed at Harry without mercy and his heart pained knowing that Draco was suffering.
"What's his problem?" asked Hermione and Harry looked up from his broken train of thoughts, wondering why people could keep interrupting his thoughts on Draco like this. It was a process, thinking of Draco, and so very often one of his friends would say something that interrupted. It was really already starting to bother him, anger him that he couldn't continue to think of Draco.
"Who?" Harry finally asked, following Hermione's gaze and landing on Draco. "Oh."
Draco's arms were crossed before his chest, lips pulled down into a frown and limbs rigid. His eyelashes blinked in rapid shutters, his head drooped down so that his face was parallel to the ground. Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from Draco and his stomach flopped. From watching Draco, analyzing him, Harry knew that Draco was careful about when he allowed himself to be weak, for if he were less careful about it, Harry surly would have noticed the human weakness in Draco sooner. If Draco was without Crabbe and Goyle at this time of day, standing alone on the Hogwarts ground when it was littered with students, something had to be very wrong.
"Maybe we should just leave him alone," Harry suggested. He didn't want to pull himself away from Malfoy but he wanted to keep Draco all to himself for now. He didn't want Ron and Hermione to see Draco for who he was just yet.
"I think you're right, Harry," Hermione responded before Ron could protest. "Would anyone like to go visit Hagrid?"
Both Ron and Harry nodded in agreement at the suggestion. "You two go ahead," said Harry. "I want to stop by the common room first to return my Potions things. I'll be right along."
"Alright," Hermione said, seizing Ron's arm and pulling him along towards Hagrid's hut.
Harry watched them walk away, waiting until they were completely out of sight before he headed toward his familiar hiding place. He grew close enough that he could hear Draco's quiet curses sweeping through the wind. A soft smile overtook Harry's lips. Draco was cursing himself for losing it in Potions, for allowing Potter to stare at him 'like that', and for being less than cruel when Potter had so eloquently stumbled down the stairs. Harry was finding this remorse kind of cute.
"And that Potter," sneered Draco, his voice low so that only Harry and Draco himself were in earshot. Even Harry had to struggle to hear. "Always staring at me. What gives him the right? And then me." His voice went up in a note of disgust. "Why must I always be this way? Why must I always try so hard to follow in the footsteps of my father? I'll never be a Death Eater. I can't lower myself to that." Draco ran his fingers through his hair. "Too much to deal with."
Harry tried to swallow, a painful wince forming from the dried tissue of his throat contracting. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, scaly from thirst and Draco's words combined. His fingers curled into a fist, clenching and unclenching as his arms hung by his sides. Draco moved, growing closer and closer to the hedge where Harry was hiding. His breath stilled in his chest and Harry slipped out when Draco turned away. Breaking into a run, Harry dashed to the Gryffindor tower, leaving his Potions things I the boys dormitory before heading back out. Draco was still brooding by the hedge and Harry had to force his legs to move away from Draco and in the direction of Hagrid's hut.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Loved something. Hated something. Tell me in a REVIEW or email me at angeldlsm00@hotmail.com
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Across from the Great Hall, Harry could see Draco Malfoy sitting at the Slytherin table, head bent and picking at his breakfast. For the past ten minutes, Hermione had been going on about last weeks Charms lesson but Harry wasn't really sure what she was saying. Any words she had said were flowing through his head without registering. His thoughts and vision only cared about, wanted to keep focus on Draco.
Once or twice, Draco had tried to make conversation with Crabbe and Goyle but all that provoked were grunts in reply and they would go back to eating breakfast. Draco's mind was thumping without mercy and even a conversation with Pansy Parkinson was starting to look good if it could get his mind off the hollow feeling in his chest. Pushing away his plate, Draco looked up and across the Great hall to the Gryffindor table. His eyes ran along the faces of Gryffindor house members before locking with the green eyes that belonged to Harry Potter.
And why was Potter staring at him? Draco stiffened in his seat, eyes going hard. There was no way he was going to let Potter see him feeling open and vulnerable. Draco would sooner tell his father that he was a muggle lover before he would give Potter the satisfaction of seeing him weak. He refused to look away first and he could see Harry shifting, becoming uncomfortable under Draco's watchful eye. Good. That was what Draco wanted.
Tired of being stared at, Draco stood up from his seat and motioned for Crabbe and Goyle not to follow. More and more time lately, Draco found that he wanted to be alone without anyone to see him wallow. He especially didn't want Potter around while he wallowed, not that he wanted Potter staring at him from across the Great Hall either. Draco sighed as he stepped outside and the grass began to crunch under his shoes. Today he had double potions with Snape, a class that the Slytherins had with the Gryffindors, which meant that Potter would be there. Staring at him. He liked potions enough because Snape always tended to favor him but even that wouldn't make up for Potter staring.
As Draco walked around the Hogwarts ground, his thoughts on Harry weighed heavy on his mind. Whenever Draco would catch sight of Potter's eyes, the green was always frigid and icy. They held no warmth for him whatsoever, except for when he caught them today. Somehow they had defrosted and though they weren't exactly warm, there was something more than the usual icy glare.
"I hate you, Potter," Draco mumbled, kicking at a small pile of autumn leaves that had fallen from their trees. That statement, however, was nothing but a lie. The two definitely were not friends, nor were they even civil to each other. Enemies was the only word to use for it and provided the most accurate definition possible.
Draco dropped to the grass, stretching his legs out before him as he leaned back, balanced by his palms pressed flat against the grass. His head lolled back, pale face bent toward the sky and the sunlight beat down on his skin. Lashes left butterfly kisses against his cheeks as they fluttered before dropping the full way closed. The soft pink flesh of his lips parted as the fresh air was sucking into his lungs in long, even strides.
Harry Potter. Draco had been thinking of him a lot lately. Even tried to stop the thoughts but he was unsuccessful. For someone who disliked Harry so intensely, Draco did seem to think of him a lot. But then again, hadn't someone once said that there was a fine line between love and hate, and that after love, hate was the strongest human emotion?
Draco sat up suddenly, his eyelids popping open to reveal a set of shocked silver eyes. Love and hate? There was only hate here. No one ever said anything about love, not that it would matter if someone did. Love was nothing but a fairy tale ideal. If love existed, he had never felt it, and he never would. Hate was a different story. Hate was real. Hate was the strongest human emotion. The only human emotion in Lucius Malfoy's book and if it was good enough for Lucius, it was good enough for Draco.
From the hedges, Harry could see Draco's body visibly relax, going limp after being so tense. After Draco had excused himself from the Slytherin table, Harry had tried to forget it and concentrate on his breakfast. His curiosity, however, got the better of him and Harry found himself leaving the Gryffindor table and heading outside before he could stop his feet. Figuring there was no use in going back now, Harry surveyed the grounds until he found Draco standing not too far away.
He crept over, sliding behind the hedges. Between the branches, Harry could see Draco shuffling through the leaves. That was around the time Draco said, "I hate you, Potter," and dropped to the grass. At first, Harry's body had gone rigid, fearful that Draco knew he was there, watching, but he made no other sign of this knowledge and Harry allowed himself to relax.
There Draco sat, only a few feet away from where Harry hid. He was an enigma, his personality ambiguous, and part of Harry's new thrill with Draco was not only the enemy roadblock, but the mystery as well. Under the sun's rays, Draco seemed to give off an unnatural, pale glow that's beauty was rare, leaving Harry breathless. His eyes roamed over the definition of Draco's pointed features but that sight was taken from him as Malfoy bolted up as if coming out of a slumber. Harry held his breath, only daring to release it again when Draco had calmed down. He watched Malfoy basking under the sun, lips pulled taut into a scowl. Draco's entire face was a window into his soul, and at that moment, Draco's desperation, vulnerability, and hopelessness was more apparent in one scowl than in his voice the night before.
No words could possibly justify the defeat Harry viewed in the thin lines of that pallor face. With every passing second of that sight, now burned in the back of his mind, Harry could feel his heart tighten in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to go comfort Malfoy, put hope and color back into his world. No thought could be stranger or more foreign to Harry, having hated Malfoy with the fire of a thousand suns for years now. Comforting Malfoy would never have been on his top list of priorities, but somehow, it was there now.
It took every ounce of Harry's will to hold himself back from going to Malfoy's side. The boy he hated, or thought he hated, sat beaten before him and hell if Harry knew how to fix him. Was he even supposed to want to fix him, and if so, would Malfoy dare let him close enough? Harry, somehow, didn't think so. Draco had seen him staring at breakfast and the stare that he sent back was so cold that Harry almost fell back into hating him. One of the things plaguing Harry's mind the night before had clicked just then. It was all an act and Draco played the cold and heartless bastard like a puppet on a string. Only that explanation could excuse the melancholy loneliness that haunted Draco while coinciding with his arrogance and mock superiority to Harry.
Just as the puzzle pieces were fitting together in Harry's head, he caught movement, and watched with sad and regretful eyes as Draco stood. Turning on the spot, he strolled past Harry's hiding place and headed inside the school. He was upset at having that vision taken away from him but Harry sighed, knowing that he, too, must get inside for classes. Classes. Today was double Potions and Harry's heart skipped a beat, a rare occasion when Potions was concerned. Professor Snape hated him and perhaps that would be enough to ruin Harry's good mood, but Gryffindor had Potions with Slytherin. Slytherin meant Draco Malfoy.
Wandering back inside, Harry headed for the Gryffindor tower, hoping to get his things and walk with Ron and Hermione. Being between the love tension was not his first choice of locale, but Harry felt the need to make up for his distance this morning and the night before.
Upon arrival, Ron and Hermione were already waiting for him with their things. Harry passed them just long enough to collect his belongings and return. "Let's go, shall we?" said Harry, motioning to the portrait hole.
They passed through and headed for classes. The day went fine, Harry able to force himself to concentrate on his schoolwork in Herbology, Transfiguration, and Charms. By lunch, he was feeling better than he had that morning but the first sight of Draco derailed him and he was back to being mush. They had some time before Potions so they headed back to the Gryffindor common room.
Their conversation was brief and before they could keep up with time, all three were standing up and leaving the portrait hole, heading for the dungeons where Snape's classroom was located. Hermione and Ron were unusually silent behind Harry as they made their dreaded descent. Potions was Harry's least favorite class but he could deal today as long as Draco Malfoy was going to be there. Even Hermione was less than thrilled when it came to Potions and she had a passion for schoolwork that surpassed any passion Harry had ever seen. Except maybe his own newly discovered passion for watching Draco.
That wasn't exactly a passion, though. At least that was what Harry tried to tell himself. He was intrigued by Draco's complex and dual nature, wanted to know more about and understand him. Harry was curious as to what made Draco always look so dead and empty. He wanted to make the life come back into those eyes. It wasn't a passion. It was intrigue and curiosity. Nothing else.
So deep in thought, Harry missed the last step and almost tripped, his belongings sprawled across the floor. Ron and Hermione bent down beside him, scooping up books, parchments, and quills.
"Nice one, Potter," Draco said in his infamous drawl. He stepped over Harry to walk into the classroom. He turned, snickered, and disappeared though the doorway into class, shaking his head. "Very graceful."
"Ignore him, Harry," said Ron, handing him his book. "Draco Malfoy is not only a waste of a wizard, but also a waste of flesh and oxygen. Don't let him bother you."
Harry nodded as he collected his things and followed where Draco had gone. He figured there was no point in telling Ron that he wasn't bothered by Draco's comment. Draco had said much worse to him before than that and the only thing that bothered him was Draco's reserve. Maybe if he had at least had venom dripping from his words, there would be some emotion. Maybe then Harry wouldn't feel so nervous about Draco's well-being.
Walking into class, all eyes turned on Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They slunk to their seats, Harry's eyes falling on the familiar sight of the back of Draco's head. Harry tried to pull his eyes away and focus on Snape's words, but every time he was in a room with Draco, his eyes were magnetized to Draco and his beauty.
"Mr. Potter," Professor Snape interrupted, his voice snapping at Harry. "We are working on a sleeping potion today. I'm pairing you with Mr. Weasley. I expect that your potion will be perfect, seeing as how you were paying such close attention. Maybe we'll have to give it a little try at the end of class."
Harry nodded, swallowing hard and sinking low in his seat. Working with Ron was fine by Harry, the two being best friends, but by pairing them together, Snape had practically guaranteed them failure. His heart sunk low at the thought of a test try, imagining horrific boils breaking out onto his skin and what made it worse, all of it would happen in front of Draco, whom his eyes were still on. Malfoy turned around, his eyes falling on Harry's, and the glare from this morning at breakfast returned. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to ignore the burning sensation running along his esophagus and into the pit of his stomach.
"Harry," Ron's voice broke through his daze and the locked gazes of their eyes ceased. Blinking as if to clear his mind of the mesmerization, Harry turned to see Ron had gathered all the ingredients they would need, and was standing before Harry, waiting for a response.
"Sorry, Ron. I don't know where my mind has been," Harry apologized. "It seems that my mind just won't stay in one place before it goes off and gets foggy again."
"Its alright," Ron said, setting out to prepare the wormwood. "We all get a little foggy ever once and again. Just try and focus on the potion for now. I can forgive you but I'm not so sure that Snape will be as keen."
Nodding, Harry smiled and began helping Ron with his task. "Thanks," he mumbled and Ron looked at Harry, smiling.
"Anytime. You're my friend and I'm willing to give you your space. If you will, please do come and tell me what's fogging up your mind," requested Ron. "Only when you feel ready, of course."
"I appreciate that, Ron," replied Harry.
They worked together on the potion, actually managing to make proper progress without too many mistakes or minor setbacks. Every now and then, Harry's eyes would drift up to land on Draco across the room. Together with Goyle, they were making a mess out of their potion, unusual for Malfoy, whose best subject was Potions. It wasn't even entirely due to Snape's partiality to Malfoy, though that never hindered Draco's performance before. Today, however, he was a making a mess out of things and Snape didn't have the time to check even Neville's progress as Draco's cauldron bubbled over.
Potions ended and the rest of the class was released, Professor Snape asking Draco to stay behind. Wandering outside with Ron and Hermione, Harry couldn't tear his eyes from the hedges where he twice had hid, observing the way Draco acted when he thought nobody was watching. Judging by his reaction to catching Harry stare at breakfast and in Potions, he really wouldn't be pleased knowing where else Harry had been observing him. Wouldn't be pleased at all with Harry's sudden fascination with him, Harry trying to figure him out.
Most of all, Draco wouldn't be pleased that he had let his guard down and was so careless that he didn't even know his soul was painted clear across his face. If he knew, Harry could already tell, Draco would be more upset with how careless he had grown, more disappointed in himself. Being exposed as a fraud, a charlatan, only masquerading as a younger version of his father, would be secondary. Secondary to his embarrassment. Secondary to the pain he would feel about himself.
Already Harry could read Draco like an open book. His every thought and feeling was expressed in his eyes, the set of his lips, or the way his body moved. He walked between Ron and Hermione, but all he could see was Draco. How he had known Malfoy for so long and never noticed how it was all a facade, all an act, Harry would never know. Never before had he noticed just how expressive Draco's eyes were or just how dull they had turned.
Were Draco's eyes always so dull and lifeless or was this a recent development? Either way, Harry felt that he couldn't breathe when he was standing so near to Draco and feeling the negative vibes radiating from him. He felt that he would feel Draco's pain on a very minuscule level. In turn, that pain clawed at Harry without mercy and his heart pained knowing that Draco was suffering.
"What's his problem?" asked Hermione and Harry looked up from his broken train of thoughts, wondering why people could keep interrupting his thoughts on Draco like this. It was a process, thinking of Draco, and so very often one of his friends would say something that interrupted. It was really already starting to bother him, anger him that he couldn't continue to think of Draco.
"Who?" Harry finally asked, following Hermione's gaze and landing on Draco. "Oh."
Draco's arms were crossed before his chest, lips pulled down into a frown and limbs rigid. His eyelashes blinked in rapid shutters, his head drooped down so that his face was parallel to the ground. Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from Draco and his stomach flopped. From watching Draco, analyzing him, Harry knew that Draco was careful about when he allowed himself to be weak, for if he were less careful about it, Harry surly would have noticed the human weakness in Draco sooner. If Draco was without Crabbe and Goyle at this time of day, standing alone on the Hogwarts ground when it was littered with students, something had to be very wrong.
"Maybe we should just leave him alone," Harry suggested. He didn't want to pull himself away from Malfoy but he wanted to keep Draco all to himself for now. He didn't want Ron and Hermione to see Draco for who he was just yet.
"I think you're right, Harry," Hermione responded before Ron could protest. "Would anyone like to go visit Hagrid?"
Both Ron and Harry nodded in agreement at the suggestion. "You two go ahead," said Harry. "I want to stop by the common room first to return my Potions things. I'll be right along."
"Alright," Hermione said, seizing Ron's arm and pulling him along towards Hagrid's hut.
Harry watched them walk away, waiting until they were completely out of sight before he headed toward his familiar hiding place. He grew close enough that he could hear Draco's quiet curses sweeping through the wind. A soft smile overtook Harry's lips. Draco was cursing himself for losing it in Potions, for allowing Potter to stare at him 'like that', and for being less than cruel when Potter had so eloquently stumbled down the stairs. Harry was finding this remorse kind of cute.
"And that Potter," sneered Draco, his voice low so that only Harry and Draco himself were in earshot. Even Harry had to struggle to hear. "Always staring at me. What gives him the right? And then me." His voice went up in a note of disgust. "Why must I always be this way? Why must I always try so hard to follow in the footsteps of my father? I'll never be a Death Eater. I can't lower myself to that." Draco ran his fingers through his hair. "Too much to deal with."
Harry tried to swallow, a painful wince forming from the dried tissue of his throat contracting. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, scaly from thirst and Draco's words combined. His fingers curled into a fist, clenching and unclenching as his arms hung by his sides. Draco moved, growing closer and closer to the hedge where Harry was hiding. His breath stilled in his chest and Harry slipped out when Draco turned away. Breaking into a run, Harry dashed to the Gryffindor tower, leaving his Potions things I the boys dormitory before heading back out. Draco was still brooding by the hedge and Harry had to force his legs to move away from Draco and in the direction of Hagrid's hut.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Loved something. Hated something. Tell me in a REVIEW or email me at angeldlsm00@hotmail.com