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.
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Over the next few weeks, Harry kept watchful eyes on Draco throughout breakfast, lunch, dinner, and classes. On more than one occasion, Draco had caught Harry watching him and he would either remain expressionless of frown back in reply. The smiles were long gone and so was Draco's zest that always liked to creep its way into him. Before, Harry had noticed a change in Draco but now it was undeniable. So prominent that even Hermione was starting to worry about Malfoy and his change of behavior.
Every day seemed to drain a little more out of Draco and all the emotion that had been left was disappearing at a rapid rate. Draco couldn't even act like he cared anymore, his spirit only a shadow of his former self. Unable to do anything to stop the process, Harry was forced to stand by and watch Draco unravel. It was enough to drive a sane man crazy and Harry was going to lose it himself if he didn't step in and stop the process.
Harry was unsatisfied with being a mere observer, wanting to step in and take some form of control. There was nothing he could do, nothing Draco would allow, anyway, that would stop Draco from being so depressed. He was desperate to find something he could do, even if it was as much as listening, but to do that, Harry was going to have to make friends with Malfoy. The probability of that happening was low and even if Harry thought he had a smidgen of a change to make it work, he didn't even know how he would go about making friends with Draco. Especially when Draco had originally offered his friendship to Harry, even if he had been offering it as a method of getting the Boy-Who-Lived on his side. Harry even had his suspicions that Lucius Malfoy may have had a small part in it, as if Draco was friends with Harry, it would make Harry easier to hand over to Voldemort.
Either way, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were not friends. The two mixed like oil with water. Harry, however, was finding that he desperately wished they could be friends. If Harry had it his way, they'd be more than only friends to one another but that may just be a dream. A twinkle of hope in Harry's emerald green eyes. A dream, though it may be, it was a dream worth chasing if meeting the goal meant Harry and Draco could be together. If Harry could be with Draco, he'd go to any means, any length, because Harry deeply cared for Draco and Draco would always be worth fighting for.
There was no way that Harry could possibly label what he was feeling for Draco as love, at least not yet, because love was the feeling Harry held in that special place in his heart. That was the place reserved for his parents alone and not a soul on earth could even breach the love boundaries and, being only fifteen, Harry knew he had plenty of time. Right now, Draco wasn't even close to love but Harry liked him enough. Cared deeply for him in a way that went beyond the average attraction and crush.
It wasn't fair that Harry was stuck on the outside of Draco's crumbling world, looking in at the shattered boy and not even magic could help him on this one. Nothing he could do would make him able to squeeze into Draco's world and make his depression disappear into oblivion. He could see Draco's pain, his downward spiral, but because of their estranged eneminity, Harry was unable to do anything about it. He hated being forced into watching Draco fall apart, blaming himself for the continuity of the situation. Harry just kept thinking that if he would just initiative, step in and offer his friendship to Draco all while putting aside his pride, Draco wouldn't be able to continue to fall apart.
These thoughts, in addition to Harry's feelings for Draco in a romantic notion, seeped into his mind and latched on like a parasite. The year so far had been unusually quiet for Voldemort having just risen to power, that aspect being odd enough, but then Draco had turned up with feelings and barricaded himself in the Slytherin common room. Things just kept getting stranger and stranger and that went without mentioning Harry's newfound attraction to Draco but not men in general. He still liked girls, but he liked Draco, too, and Harry guessed that made him bisexual if on in the slightest. He wasn't attracted to men. He was only attracted to Draco. The Dursleys were going to love that this summer if they found out.
Harry's aunt and uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley, and their son, Dudley, lived on number 4, Privet Drive. Since Harry's parents were killed when he was a baby, the Dursleys had raised him and they weren't exactly keen on taking to lifestyles that were considered unconventional. They already had enough problems with him being a wizard and performing magic without throwing his crush on Draco in the mix. That would be just about enough to get Harry locked up all summer and maybe even unable to return to Hogwarts the next year.
Things were spinning out of control after such a great placidity that the contrast left Harry breathless and with no one to go to. No one would be able to understand how he was feeling, nor did he even know how anyone would take the homosexual aspect in general. Confusion abounded, Harry unsure of where to turn to and all the pressure being internalized left him about to boil over.
Not only were these things messing with his mind but they were becoming so strong and undeniable that they were messing with his grades as well. Classes were getting harder, more homework was being given, and Harry was going to have to take his O.W.L.s this year. He found himself having a hard time concentrating on his work and that because of this and the addition of Draco's recent lapse in judgment, Professor Snape was becoming even more unpleasant than usual and Snape didn't like Harry all that much to begin with. However, Draco Malfoy was usually his favorite student but with Draco's shine becoming dull and tarnished, so did Draco's schoolwork become and Snap was constantly finding himself yelling at Malfoy for a job poorly done. Most recently, in a Potions class last week, Draco had mixed together the wrong ingredients for a potion causing a small explosion, a few minor fires, and a prevalent smell of sulfur that Harry could still smell lingering. Draco hadn't even reacted, this being the most recent installment to Malfoy's journey to be without emotion.
Now leaving Quidditch practice with Ron by his side, Harry spotted Draco standing by the lake, looking out over the waters. Dusk was just beginning to come upon them, the sun hardly set below the horizon, and the sky was bathed in a beautiful myriad of colors. "Why don't you just go head to Hermione," suggested Harry. "It looks so nice out here that I think I want to stay out here for awhile and just breathe."
Ron stalled, looking out past Harry to Draco by the lake. "But Malfoy's out here," he said. "If he starts any trouble, just come and get me or something."
"I can take care of myself, Ron," reassured Harry. "If I need you, I'll come get you. I'm not going to let someone like Malfoy determine for me where and when I'll go places." Ron nodded in acknowledgment before he left Harry alone and wandered off in a direction Harry presumed to be leading to the Gryffindor tower. Harry watched Ron's figure drift away into the distance, waiting until he was fully out of sight before heading over in Draco's direction.
From his favorite hiding place, Harry slightly pushed back the hedge branches to produce a clear image of Draco moving along the edge of the lake. Harry was happy to see that neither the nasty run in with the oberdun nor the collective fear of the giant squid and grindylows could make Draco dislike the lake. Reflections of fading sunlight on shifting water bounced beams of color off the surface and into a rhythm of directions in the darkness. Whenever a beam passed over Draco, his entire face was illuminated, his pale skin so white that he practically glowed.
Water splashed up at Draco, lapping around his feet and ankles. Soft breezes of air moving over the lake ruffled his hair, which was usually slicked down and into place. Harry liked the slicked down hair, finding that it made him look sexy, especially when he was angry. Despite that, Harry found that he preferred the open, vulnerable one. With his hair blowing in the breeze, the night sky rushing upon them, Draco was full of worries and Harry wished for nothing more than to reach out and pull Draco into his arms.
Each day, Draco grew more beautiful until Harry found him to almost be too irresistible in a combination of sexy and gorgeous. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take standing on the sidelines, admiring Draco from afar. Coming to admit that he found Draco sexy, especially when flecks of emotion would seep into his eyes, was not an easy thing for Harry to do. Once he finally did and was able to push aside the guy factor and the weird factor, Harry didn't want to think of much else.
"I'm so scared," Harry could hear Draco, just faintly, and he ruffled through the hedges, trying to get closer. Draco's voice had caught Harry off guard and he strained his ears in hopes of hearing more. "I can't do this anymore. I'm not who they think I am."
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, fighting all urges to jump out of the hedges and do something. Whether he would kiss him or assure Draco that everything would work out in the end, Harry wasn't sure. Draco's voice was soft but strained, barely audible as it squeezed through the tight hole in his throat. From the cracks in his voice, Harry could tell that Draco was close to tears and he ruffled though the hedge once more, getting as close to Draco as physically possible, all the while trying not to be noticed.
Harry was shifting as Draco made a sharp, unexpected turn and Harry froze. Standing directly across from the shaking bushes was Draco, his eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed as he faced the hedges, frowning. He took one step toward them, stopped, and stared again at the stilling branches. Harry was holding his breath, offering up a silent prayer that Draco would just ignore the oddity on Hogwarts grounds and either go back to his brooding or head inside.
Never before did Harry think he had stayed so still and for so long. His lungs were screaming for oxygen and his head was whirling as he held his breath, afraid that even breathing would tip off Draco under the close scrutiny. Things only started to look good for Harry's lungs when Draco headed toward the school doors, his eyes still fixated on the hedges. Then, just as Harry thought he was home free, Draco turned back, grabbed the branches, and shoved them back to reveal Harry, a slight shade of blue from the lack of oxygen.
"Potter?" Draco half spit out in shock and surprise, the other half anger. "How long have you been there? What are you doing in there?" Draco's questions rolled off his tongue, one coming after another, not giving Harry time to answer any of them. Finally, the dim hardness waned and his eyes softened when he asked the question Harry could tell he'd been avoiding asking. "How much did you hear?"
Draco's voice cracked on the last word and he visibly winced as his tone exposed the fear running around his eyes in semi circles. Dull flashes of light flickered in the silver grey and Harry crawled out from the hedges, branches bending and snapping at his will. They stood face to face and for a second, Harry anticipated the action of circling one another like caged animals. Draco, however, stayed in place and Harry rooted himself to the ground. Their eyes met, Draco's scared and afraid, waiting for and answer, and Harry's filled with guilt and compassion, searching for a response.
Not for the first time since Harry began following Draco, a wave of guilt washed over Harry, bathing him in remorse. He knew that Draco wouldn't want anyone near him at his emotional points, much less have anyone overhear the few words he dared to mumble. They were meant for no other ears than Draco's own and yet somehow, Harry had come across them. It should have ended the first night but Harry was infatuated and he kept coming back for more until Draco's vulnerability and beautiful figure became intoxicating. Harry had found himself addicted, wanting no more than to drink Draco in.
Draco stared at Harry, his mind blank, unable to form any coherent thought. All the anger that was boiling inside him had receded. Anger from catching Potter of all people lurking around and catching Draco in a moment of weakness. It was almost too much to bear and Draco found himself torn between anger and relief because Potter should have never heard him but maybe now Draco could confide in someone. How odd that the one person who now knew, who Draco was even considering confiding in, was the one person he was supposed to hate the most. Potter was supposed to hate him. And Potter wasn't staring at Draco with hate. Hadn't been for weeks now and in a way, Draco had been kept sane by Harry's watchful eyes. Harry had been awful nice to him lately now that Draco thought about it.
"How long have you been following me?" Draco asked, breaking the silence. His eyelids fell shut in realization, knowing that Harry had probably seen him like this before. It was the only explanation for the sudden change in attitude and Draco tried to look calm while his insides twisted, waiting for an answer.
"I. Well-" Harry stammered, avoiding Draco's eyes. "I didn't hear much. I mean, I did hear something about being scared and not being able to take something but that was it. And I don't know what you mean by following you. I haven't been following you."
"You have," Draco replied. "You're lying to me. I know it. Why don't you just admit that you've been following me?"
Harry hesitated, a battle raging inside his mind, wanting to look at Draco and wanting to avoid his eyes at all lengths at the same time. He finally caved in to the pressure, turning his eyes and locking them with Draco's. A lump formed in his throat and Harry gasped for air. "I don't know," he answered in a whisper. "A few weeks."
"Weeks?" Draco replied, clearly startled by Harry's answer. His jaw had gone slack, eyes wide, and eyebrows rose. His fingers fumbled for something that wasn't there and without anything to grab on to, his fingers fumbled in an endless search. "Why?" asked Draco after minutes of an unsettling silence. "Why have you been following me? Why would you want to be following me?" Draco paused. "I guess I just don't understand."
"Draco-" Harry started. Draco lifted his chin, eyes rolling up from the ground to meet with Harry's. "What?"
"You called me Draco," he stated. "You never call me Draco. You always call me Malfoy."
"Oh," answered Harry. "Well-I-" He fumbled for words, his hands dancing as he searched for something to say. "What's been wrong with you? When I saw you a few weeks ago, you just seemed so different. You were so unlike the way I usually see you. I guess I was just wondering about why you would suddenly be so different."
"So you followed me," Draco finished, incredulous. "You saw me acting different and you followed me."
"Yeah," answered Harry, ashamed. Never before had he realized something was so wrong about this picture. Harry never intended to be stalking Draco, he just fell into it. Something about Draco struck a chord with him and Harry found himself head over heels. "I'm sorry," he said at length. "I knew you wouldn't want me following you around, listening to what you say. I did it anyway when I knew you wouldn't want me to. I'm sorry."
Draco didn't answer, he only stared. Harry felt his face turn hot under the scrutiny and he looked away from Draco, afraid of locking eyes with him and not being pleased with what he would see. The soft lapping of the lake water drifted through his ears and what would normally calm him, the sound grated on his nerves.
"Say something," commanded Harry. Draco continued to stare, his face still and unmoving. "Please," he pleaded. "Say something. I'm sorry, Draco. I am."
"Don't apologize, Potter," Draco tried to tell Harry. "I just-you were watching me. I hadn't expected that. Why? Why me? I just-" Draco paused, sighing as he grasped for the right words to say. Harry watched Draco search for the words with wide and hopeful eyes.
Even if Draco got all up in arms, it would still be a better reaction than Harry had anticipated. He hadn't expected Draco to take it well enough that Harry would live or at least not get beaten once Draco discovered him. According to Harry's calculations, Draco should have whipped out his wand and started yelling out words and swish and flicking all over the place a long time ago.
"I just-" Draco started again, dropping his arms to rest at his side. "I don't understand, Potter. You're supposed to hate me and as soon as you see me vulnerable, everything changes. Suddenly I'm not big, bad Draco Malfoy to you." Draco let out a long sign, the quickness of his speech replaced with a drawl. "Why did you keep watching me, Potter? Do you think you're going to figure me out? See a poor, defenseless person lying beneath the surface?"
"It's not like that, Draco," interrupted Harry before Draco could get any further. "I wasn't looking for something. I guess you just weren't the complete git that I thought you were."
"Harry-" Draco started, pausing when Harry met his eyes. "What?"
"You called me Harry," he said. "You usually call me Potter."
"Lapse in judgment," Draco said. "Potter, you aren't going to find out anything about me. I'm not a big secret. You just happen to catch me at bad times. It doesn't matter if you think there's something hidden. You aren't going to find it."
"I never said there was something hidden. Draco, I think you're protesting too much," Harry retorted, softly, and almost to himself.
"What did you say, Potter?" Draco snapped. "I'm not. Don't even presume that you know anything about me, Potter. Ever. You don't know anything about me and you're never going to. I don't know why you're so persistent about this."
Harry looked away, his eyelids dropping low and lifting in a long and languid blink. "I guess I actually care," Harry half whispered, so low that Draco had to strain to hear.
"What?" asked Draco, looking up from the ground.
"What?" replied Harry, snapping his head up. "Nothing. Did I say that aloud?"
Draco's face softened, his sharp angles growing soft. "Harry-" Draco started. His eyes darted back and forth, settling on the school. "It's getting late," mumbled Draco. His lips pulled into a frown. "We should get in before its after hours."
"Oh," Harry said, dejected. "Okay. Yeah."
Draco nodded, turning and heading toward the school. Harry sighed, silently cursing himself for letting Draco walk away without saying anything. He let his head drop, following Draco inside. They stood together, Draco's hand resting on the handle.
"Harry?" Draco suddenly spoke, voice low.
"What?" he replied, locking eyes with Draco.
"Can we talk about this some other time?" he requested, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.
"You actually want to revisit this conversation?" Harry asked, astounded.
Draco swallowed hard, his fingers closing around his bicep as his eyelids fell shut. "If we can," he whispered. "I don't want to bother you with my problems. I just." He sighed. "I want someone to talk to. And you already know." Draco's eyes narrowed. "And somehow," he said as a cocky smile overtook his lips, "I get the feeling you aren't buying a word I tell you."
"You're right," Harry said, nodding. "I'm not." Harry paused, looking out over Hogwarts grounds. "Tomorrow? Out by the lake? Right after dinner?"
Draco nodded. "Yeah. Okay." He left Harry, walking inside with Harry following not that far behind. Pausing, he turned around and called back, "Don't be late. Please. And Harry?"
"Yeah?" Harry asked, pausing on his way up to Gryffindor tower.
"Thanks." Draco barely got the word out before he turned and walked away, heading in the direction of the dungeons.
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Loved something. Hated something. Tell me in a REVIEW or email me at angeldlsm00@hotmail.com
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Over the next few weeks, Harry kept watchful eyes on Draco throughout breakfast, lunch, dinner, and classes. On more than one occasion, Draco had caught Harry watching him and he would either remain expressionless of frown back in reply. The smiles were long gone and so was Draco's zest that always liked to creep its way into him. Before, Harry had noticed a change in Draco but now it was undeniable. So prominent that even Hermione was starting to worry about Malfoy and his change of behavior.
Every day seemed to drain a little more out of Draco and all the emotion that had been left was disappearing at a rapid rate. Draco couldn't even act like he cared anymore, his spirit only a shadow of his former self. Unable to do anything to stop the process, Harry was forced to stand by and watch Draco unravel. It was enough to drive a sane man crazy and Harry was going to lose it himself if he didn't step in and stop the process.
Harry was unsatisfied with being a mere observer, wanting to step in and take some form of control. There was nothing he could do, nothing Draco would allow, anyway, that would stop Draco from being so depressed. He was desperate to find something he could do, even if it was as much as listening, but to do that, Harry was going to have to make friends with Malfoy. The probability of that happening was low and even if Harry thought he had a smidgen of a change to make it work, he didn't even know how he would go about making friends with Draco. Especially when Draco had originally offered his friendship to Harry, even if he had been offering it as a method of getting the Boy-Who-Lived on his side. Harry even had his suspicions that Lucius Malfoy may have had a small part in it, as if Draco was friends with Harry, it would make Harry easier to hand over to Voldemort.
Either way, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were not friends. The two mixed like oil with water. Harry, however, was finding that he desperately wished they could be friends. If Harry had it his way, they'd be more than only friends to one another but that may just be a dream. A twinkle of hope in Harry's emerald green eyes. A dream, though it may be, it was a dream worth chasing if meeting the goal meant Harry and Draco could be together. If Harry could be with Draco, he'd go to any means, any length, because Harry deeply cared for Draco and Draco would always be worth fighting for.
There was no way that Harry could possibly label what he was feeling for Draco as love, at least not yet, because love was the feeling Harry held in that special place in his heart. That was the place reserved for his parents alone and not a soul on earth could even breach the love boundaries and, being only fifteen, Harry knew he had plenty of time. Right now, Draco wasn't even close to love but Harry liked him enough. Cared deeply for him in a way that went beyond the average attraction and crush.
It wasn't fair that Harry was stuck on the outside of Draco's crumbling world, looking in at the shattered boy and not even magic could help him on this one. Nothing he could do would make him able to squeeze into Draco's world and make his depression disappear into oblivion. He could see Draco's pain, his downward spiral, but because of their estranged eneminity, Harry was unable to do anything about it. He hated being forced into watching Draco fall apart, blaming himself for the continuity of the situation. Harry just kept thinking that if he would just initiative, step in and offer his friendship to Draco all while putting aside his pride, Draco wouldn't be able to continue to fall apart.
These thoughts, in addition to Harry's feelings for Draco in a romantic notion, seeped into his mind and latched on like a parasite. The year so far had been unusually quiet for Voldemort having just risen to power, that aspect being odd enough, but then Draco had turned up with feelings and barricaded himself in the Slytherin common room. Things just kept getting stranger and stranger and that went without mentioning Harry's newfound attraction to Draco but not men in general. He still liked girls, but he liked Draco, too, and Harry guessed that made him bisexual if on in the slightest. He wasn't attracted to men. He was only attracted to Draco. The Dursleys were going to love that this summer if they found out.
Harry's aunt and uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley, and their son, Dudley, lived on number 4, Privet Drive. Since Harry's parents were killed when he was a baby, the Dursleys had raised him and they weren't exactly keen on taking to lifestyles that were considered unconventional. They already had enough problems with him being a wizard and performing magic without throwing his crush on Draco in the mix. That would be just about enough to get Harry locked up all summer and maybe even unable to return to Hogwarts the next year.
Things were spinning out of control after such a great placidity that the contrast left Harry breathless and with no one to go to. No one would be able to understand how he was feeling, nor did he even know how anyone would take the homosexual aspect in general. Confusion abounded, Harry unsure of where to turn to and all the pressure being internalized left him about to boil over.
Not only were these things messing with his mind but they were becoming so strong and undeniable that they were messing with his grades as well. Classes were getting harder, more homework was being given, and Harry was going to have to take his O.W.L.s this year. He found himself having a hard time concentrating on his work and that because of this and the addition of Draco's recent lapse in judgment, Professor Snape was becoming even more unpleasant than usual and Snape didn't like Harry all that much to begin with. However, Draco Malfoy was usually his favorite student but with Draco's shine becoming dull and tarnished, so did Draco's schoolwork become and Snap was constantly finding himself yelling at Malfoy for a job poorly done. Most recently, in a Potions class last week, Draco had mixed together the wrong ingredients for a potion causing a small explosion, a few minor fires, and a prevalent smell of sulfur that Harry could still smell lingering. Draco hadn't even reacted, this being the most recent installment to Malfoy's journey to be without emotion.
Now leaving Quidditch practice with Ron by his side, Harry spotted Draco standing by the lake, looking out over the waters. Dusk was just beginning to come upon them, the sun hardly set below the horizon, and the sky was bathed in a beautiful myriad of colors. "Why don't you just go head to Hermione," suggested Harry. "It looks so nice out here that I think I want to stay out here for awhile and just breathe."
Ron stalled, looking out past Harry to Draco by the lake. "But Malfoy's out here," he said. "If he starts any trouble, just come and get me or something."
"I can take care of myself, Ron," reassured Harry. "If I need you, I'll come get you. I'm not going to let someone like Malfoy determine for me where and when I'll go places." Ron nodded in acknowledgment before he left Harry alone and wandered off in a direction Harry presumed to be leading to the Gryffindor tower. Harry watched Ron's figure drift away into the distance, waiting until he was fully out of sight before heading over in Draco's direction.
From his favorite hiding place, Harry slightly pushed back the hedge branches to produce a clear image of Draco moving along the edge of the lake. Harry was happy to see that neither the nasty run in with the oberdun nor the collective fear of the giant squid and grindylows could make Draco dislike the lake. Reflections of fading sunlight on shifting water bounced beams of color off the surface and into a rhythm of directions in the darkness. Whenever a beam passed over Draco, his entire face was illuminated, his pale skin so white that he practically glowed.
Water splashed up at Draco, lapping around his feet and ankles. Soft breezes of air moving over the lake ruffled his hair, which was usually slicked down and into place. Harry liked the slicked down hair, finding that it made him look sexy, especially when he was angry. Despite that, Harry found that he preferred the open, vulnerable one. With his hair blowing in the breeze, the night sky rushing upon them, Draco was full of worries and Harry wished for nothing more than to reach out and pull Draco into his arms.
Each day, Draco grew more beautiful until Harry found him to almost be too irresistible in a combination of sexy and gorgeous. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take standing on the sidelines, admiring Draco from afar. Coming to admit that he found Draco sexy, especially when flecks of emotion would seep into his eyes, was not an easy thing for Harry to do. Once he finally did and was able to push aside the guy factor and the weird factor, Harry didn't want to think of much else.
"I'm so scared," Harry could hear Draco, just faintly, and he ruffled through the hedges, trying to get closer. Draco's voice had caught Harry off guard and he strained his ears in hopes of hearing more. "I can't do this anymore. I'm not who they think I am."
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, fighting all urges to jump out of the hedges and do something. Whether he would kiss him or assure Draco that everything would work out in the end, Harry wasn't sure. Draco's voice was soft but strained, barely audible as it squeezed through the tight hole in his throat. From the cracks in his voice, Harry could tell that Draco was close to tears and he ruffled though the hedge once more, getting as close to Draco as physically possible, all the while trying not to be noticed.
Harry was shifting as Draco made a sharp, unexpected turn and Harry froze. Standing directly across from the shaking bushes was Draco, his eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed as he faced the hedges, frowning. He took one step toward them, stopped, and stared again at the stilling branches. Harry was holding his breath, offering up a silent prayer that Draco would just ignore the oddity on Hogwarts grounds and either go back to his brooding or head inside.
Never before did Harry think he had stayed so still and for so long. His lungs were screaming for oxygen and his head was whirling as he held his breath, afraid that even breathing would tip off Draco under the close scrutiny. Things only started to look good for Harry's lungs when Draco headed toward the school doors, his eyes still fixated on the hedges. Then, just as Harry thought he was home free, Draco turned back, grabbed the branches, and shoved them back to reveal Harry, a slight shade of blue from the lack of oxygen.
"Potter?" Draco half spit out in shock and surprise, the other half anger. "How long have you been there? What are you doing in there?" Draco's questions rolled off his tongue, one coming after another, not giving Harry time to answer any of them. Finally, the dim hardness waned and his eyes softened when he asked the question Harry could tell he'd been avoiding asking. "How much did you hear?"
Draco's voice cracked on the last word and he visibly winced as his tone exposed the fear running around his eyes in semi circles. Dull flashes of light flickered in the silver grey and Harry crawled out from the hedges, branches bending and snapping at his will. They stood face to face and for a second, Harry anticipated the action of circling one another like caged animals. Draco, however, stayed in place and Harry rooted himself to the ground. Their eyes met, Draco's scared and afraid, waiting for and answer, and Harry's filled with guilt and compassion, searching for a response.
Not for the first time since Harry began following Draco, a wave of guilt washed over Harry, bathing him in remorse. He knew that Draco wouldn't want anyone near him at his emotional points, much less have anyone overhear the few words he dared to mumble. They were meant for no other ears than Draco's own and yet somehow, Harry had come across them. It should have ended the first night but Harry was infatuated and he kept coming back for more until Draco's vulnerability and beautiful figure became intoxicating. Harry had found himself addicted, wanting no more than to drink Draco in.
Draco stared at Harry, his mind blank, unable to form any coherent thought. All the anger that was boiling inside him had receded. Anger from catching Potter of all people lurking around and catching Draco in a moment of weakness. It was almost too much to bear and Draco found himself torn between anger and relief because Potter should have never heard him but maybe now Draco could confide in someone. How odd that the one person who now knew, who Draco was even considering confiding in, was the one person he was supposed to hate the most. Potter was supposed to hate him. And Potter wasn't staring at Draco with hate. Hadn't been for weeks now and in a way, Draco had been kept sane by Harry's watchful eyes. Harry had been awful nice to him lately now that Draco thought about it.
"How long have you been following me?" Draco asked, breaking the silence. His eyelids fell shut in realization, knowing that Harry had probably seen him like this before. It was the only explanation for the sudden change in attitude and Draco tried to look calm while his insides twisted, waiting for an answer.
"I. Well-" Harry stammered, avoiding Draco's eyes. "I didn't hear much. I mean, I did hear something about being scared and not being able to take something but that was it. And I don't know what you mean by following you. I haven't been following you."
"You have," Draco replied. "You're lying to me. I know it. Why don't you just admit that you've been following me?"
Harry hesitated, a battle raging inside his mind, wanting to look at Draco and wanting to avoid his eyes at all lengths at the same time. He finally caved in to the pressure, turning his eyes and locking them with Draco's. A lump formed in his throat and Harry gasped for air. "I don't know," he answered in a whisper. "A few weeks."
"Weeks?" Draco replied, clearly startled by Harry's answer. His jaw had gone slack, eyes wide, and eyebrows rose. His fingers fumbled for something that wasn't there and without anything to grab on to, his fingers fumbled in an endless search. "Why?" asked Draco after minutes of an unsettling silence. "Why have you been following me? Why would you want to be following me?" Draco paused. "I guess I just don't understand."
"Draco-" Harry started. Draco lifted his chin, eyes rolling up from the ground to meet with Harry's. "What?"
"You called me Draco," he stated. "You never call me Draco. You always call me Malfoy."
"Oh," answered Harry. "Well-I-" He fumbled for words, his hands dancing as he searched for something to say. "What's been wrong with you? When I saw you a few weeks ago, you just seemed so different. You were so unlike the way I usually see you. I guess I was just wondering about why you would suddenly be so different."
"So you followed me," Draco finished, incredulous. "You saw me acting different and you followed me."
"Yeah," answered Harry, ashamed. Never before had he realized something was so wrong about this picture. Harry never intended to be stalking Draco, he just fell into it. Something about Draco struck a chord with him and Harry found himself head over heels. "I'm sorry," he said at length. "I knew you wouldn't want me following you around, listening to what you say. I did it anyway when I knew you wouldn't want me to. I'm sorry."
Draco didn't answer, he only stared. Harry felt his face turn hot under the scrutiny and he looked away from Draco, afraid of locking eyes with him and not being pleased with what he would see. The soft lapping of the lake water drifted through his ears and what would normally calm him, the sound grated on his nerves.
"Say something," commanded Harry. Draco continued to stare, his face still and unmoving. "Please," he pleaded. "Say something. I'm sorry, Draco. I am."
"Don't apologize, Potter," Draco tried to tell Harry. "I just-you were watching me. I hadn't expected that. Why? Why me? I just-" Draco paused, sighing as he grasped for the right words to say. Harry watched Draco search for the words with wide and hopeful eyes.
Even if Draco got all up in arms, it would still be a better reaction than Harry had anticipated. He hadn't expected Draco to take it well enough that Harry would live or at least not get beaten once Draco discovered him. According to Harry's calculations, Draco should have whipped out his wand and started yelling out words and swish and flicking all over the place a long time ago.
"I just-" Draco started again, dropping his arms to rest at his side. "I don't understand, Potter. You're supposed to hate me and as soon as you see me vulnerable, everything changes. Suddenly I'm not big, bad Draco Malfoy to you." Draco let out a long sign, the quickness of his speech replaced with a drawl. "Why did you keep watching me, Potter? Do you think you're going to figure me out? See a poor, defenseless person lying beneath the surface?"
"It's not like that, Draco," interrupted Harry before Draco could get any further. "I wasn't looking for something. I guess you just weren't the complete git that I thought you were."
"Harry-" Draco started, pausing when Harry met his eyes. "What?"
"You called me Harry," he said. "You usually call me Potter."
"Lapse in judgment," Draco said. "Potter, you aren't going to find out anything about me. I'm not a big secret. You just happen to catch me at bad times. It doesn't matter if you think there's something hidden. You aren't going to find it."
"I never said there was something hidden. Draco, I think you're protesting too much," Harry retorted, softly, and almost to himself.
"What did you say, Potter?" Draco snapped. "I'm not. Don't even presume that you know anything about me, Potter. Ever. You don't know anything about me and you're never going to. I don't know why you're so persistent about this."
Harry looked away, his eyelids dropping low and lifting in a long and languid blink. "I guess I actually care," Harry half whispered, so low that Draco had to strain to hear.
"What?" asked Draco, looking up from the ground.
"What?" replied Harry, snapping his head up. "Nothing. Did I say that aloud?"
Draco's face softened, his sharp angles growing soft. "Harry-" Draco started. His eyes darted back and forth, settling on the school. "It's getting late," mumbled Draco. His lips pulled into a frown. "We should get in before its after hours."
"Oh," Harry said, dejected. "Okay. Yeah."
Draco nodded, turning and heading toward the school. Harry sighed, silently cursing himself for letting Draco walk away without saying anything. He let his head drop, following Draco inside. They stood together, Draco's hand resting on the handle.
"Harry?" Draco suddenly spoke, voice low.
"What?" he replied, locking eyes with Draco.
"Can we talk about this some other time?" he requested, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.
"You actually want to revisit this conversation?" Harry asked, astounded.
Draco swallowed hard, his fingers closing around his bicep as his eyelids fell shut. "If we can," he whispered. "I don't want to bother you with my problems. I just." He sighed. "I want someone to talk to. And you already know." Draco's eyes narrowed. "And somehow," he said as a cocky smile overtook his lips, "I get the feeling you aren't buying a word I tell you."
"You're right," Harry said, nodding. "I'm not." Harry paused, looking out over Hogwarts grounds. "Tomorrow? Out by the lake? Right after dinner?"
Draco nodded. "Yeah. Okay." He left Harry, walking inside with Harry following not that far behind. Pausing, he turned around and called back, "Don't be late. Please. And Harry?"
"Yeah?" Harry asked, pausing on his way up to Gryffindor tower.
"Thanks." Draco barely got the word out before he turned and walked away, heading in the direction of the dungeons.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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