Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I appreciate the feedback more than
you know and I write these stories for you.
~Kiara
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.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry stood dumbfounded, watching Draco retreat, and Harry found his eyes drifting to run over the curves of Draco's body as he walked. His throat went dry and Harry shuddered, his eyelids fluttering across his cheeks as he thought of Draco. Never expecting to get caught, the shock of Draco finding him was more than enough for Harry to deal with, much less Draco's reaction. Unfortunately, though the reaction was as best as it could be, Harry wished Draco would have been more like himself. By acting the way he did, Draco practically fell into Harry. As soon as Harry told Draco he cared, looking him over with genuine eyes of concern, Draco had melted into Harry's palm.
Harry walked into the common room and went straight up to the dormitories. He changed into his pajamas, slid into bed, and let his thoughts drift back to Draco. Hearing him say Harry's name instead of just Potter sent shivers down Harry's spine. Being so close to him didn't help either and Harry soon found it impossible to forget about Draco.
All he wanted was for someone to care about him. With the way Draco's entire body relaxed, his breathing steadied, and his face and eyes became soft, Harry could tell he was desperate for it. Draco was starved for affection, not a big surprise to Harry when the Malfoy family was considered. Harry wanted to fill him, satiate his hunger for affection, and make him never want to walk away again.
He crept into every inch of his body as Harry could make out the dark shadowy figures of Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas coming up to bed. Something about Draco was exhilarating, and the thought of meeting up with him tomorrow night made Harry want to scream in excitement. The thought of Draco talking to him, telling him things, and confiding in him was beyond any dream Harry could ask for. Even if they were both guys, Harry couldn't deny how complete he always felt when Draco was around. That feeling alone was enough for Harry to cast aside his insecurities on the homosexual issue.
Adrenaline pumped through his veins, refusing to let Harry drift anywhere long enough to go to sleep. Every conscious thought was centered on Draco, and, at this moment, Harry would want it to be any other way. Beneath the scarlet sheets, his body was shaking in anticipation and elation. Draco actually wanted to talk and he actually suggested talking to Harry. Both of these things alone made Harry's life. If Voldemort broke in the dormitory and killed Harry at that very moment, he could die complete, satisfied.
Harry finally began to drift as he heard footsteps padding into the dormitory and Ron could be heard sliding into his bed. "Harry?" he asked, soft so as not to wake anyone. "Are you awake?"
"Barely." Harry mumbled in reply. "What is it?"
"Malfoy didn't cause any problems after I left did he?" asked Ron.
"No problems," Harry reassured. "In fact, all I did was walk around a bit. We didn't ever speak to each other. I told you I could take care of myself." The lie burned on Harry's tongue, guilt overcoming his mind, and he could feel bile rising in his throat, licking at the back.
"I just wanted to make sure," Ron answered. "Malfoy sure has been acting strange lately, hasn't he?"
"Yeah," answered Harry. "I imagine there's some sort of explanation. One that we probably won't know."
"Not that I'd want to know," spit out Ron. "Draco Malfoy has been our number two enemy since the train ride as first years. I wish his father would have sent him to Durmstrang. If he insults my family on more time-" Ron's voice drifted off. "And the way he treats Hermione."
"I know," Harry replied, his stomach twisting even further with guilt. Malfoy had never been nice to him or his friends, much less treated them with civility, and here was Harry lusting after him. Here was Harry scheduling where and when to meet Malfoy in secret. But maybe this could be a chance to bridge them and make peace.
Ron didn't say another word and it wasn't much later when Harry could see Ron's chest rising and falling in rhythm, a light snore coming from his bed. Harry, too, began to doze and it wasn't long until he was also fast asleep, visions of Draco Malfoy dancing in his head.
Awaking the next morning, Draco dressed quickly and went down to the Slytherin common room, avoiding the eyes of his fellow Slytherins. Slipping out the stone wall, Draco set off down the corridors and in the direction of the Great Hall. The first thought that crossed his mind was that Harry was going to be there at breakfast, probably staring at Draco, like he had so many times over the past few weeks. Draco felt so stupid. With how different Harry had been toward him, Draco should have known that there was something up. How could he have missed it?
Strolling into the Great Hall, Draco could see Crabbe and Goyle sitting at the table already, eating. Unfortunately, Pansy was there, too, and Draco headed over to his favorite seat. Facing the Gryffindor table, Draco could see that Harry was already there, sitting with the Weasley and that mudblood, Granger. Their eyes met as Harry continued his conversation with his friends and Draco offered him the smallest smile he could muster.
His stomach was churning, flopping all over the place inside Draco's body. Everything was finally beginning to make some sense to Draco after weeks of utter confusion. Potter had been different, growing increasingly more reverent to Draco. Between the stares, the kindness after Draco's time holed up in the common room, and the confrontation in Hogsmeade, Harry was civil to Draco to say the least.
Why was Draco being so quick to trust Harry? The only thing he could come up with was that Harry really did care and it was something that Draco saw even before Harry admitted it. It was something foreign for him, someone caring about him, and once Harry had said it, Draco thought maybe that was what he had been feeling from Harry for weeks. He hated feeling so weak, jumping at every chance Harry was offering him to talk. Before Draco knew it, he was going to be pouring his hear and soul out to Potter and hoping that Harry cared enough to still be there, offering his friendship. As long as he had the good sense to keep Draco's thoughts to himself, they would get along just fine. Besides, it would be a nice change for Draco to have a friend, a real friend he trusted, and not just the Slytherin goons that always flanked his sides. Even if it was Potter, it was something Draco had been craving for a long time.
He sighed, looking up as owls began to swoop in overhead, bringing mail to the Hogwarts students. Draco's eyes fell shut, hoping that there would be no messages for him from father. As they opened again, Draco sighed with relief at there being no mail for him and looking up, his eye drifted and landed on Harry who was reading a bit of parchment.
"What is it, Harry?" asked Hermione, peering over Harry's shoulder.
Harry looked up form the parchment, glancing at Draco before turning to look at Hermione. Making sure that no one was listening in, he said, "It's from Sirius." in a hushed tone. Ron and Hermione leaned in as Harry spread out the parchment for only himself and his friends to see.
Harry,
Haven't heard from you in some time so I thought I'd drop you an owl. Keep an eye out, Harry. Voldemort is being unusually quiet and that can't be a good thing. Remember to keep me updated.
Sirius
"You haven't been writing him?" questioned Hermione in a scold. "The only things Sirius ever wants you to do is to be careful and keep him updated."
"I guess I just forgot," said Harry. He turned over the parchment, writing a quick reply, and sending Hedwig off again. "What do you have this morning?"
"Arithmancy," replied Hermione, sitting straight up. "And I suppose you two have Divination."
"Unfortunately," Ron said, stifling a laugh. "How many times do you think you'll die today?"
"At least three," answered Harry, smiling. "I suppose we should be going."
Ron, Hermione, and Harry stood form their chairs, gathering up their things, and headed for their classes. Hermione departed form them and Ron walked next to Harry as they headed for the North Tower. Climbing the silvery ladder and though the trap door into Professor Trelawney's classroom. As soon as they entered, the smoky scent of perfume hit their senses, making both Ron and Harry woozy. They headed toward the back of the classroom, sitting down at one of the circular tables and squinting through faint, crimson light.
"Today," Trelawney said, sweeping to the front of the room, shawl around her shoulders and beads dangling from her neck, "we will be starting the study of the tarot cards. Now, I want you to partner up and take a tarot deck from the shelf. We will be practicing the Celtic Cross spread. I want you to use pages one hundred to one hundred seven for the spread and deciphering."
Harry and Ron walked over to retrieve a tarot deck and returned to their seats. Flipping open their copies of 'Unfogging the Future', they turned to the pages indicated and Ron slid the cards out of their box.
"There's two arcanas," Harry read aloud. "The major arcana indicates major events while the minor arcana is secondary events. In the minor arcana there are four suits of swords, pentacles, wands, and cups."
"Now how do we do this Celtic Cross?" asked Ron and he looked at his own book before laying out ten cards for the spread.
"Oh dear," Harry could hear Professor Trelawney say in a whisper, hovering over Ron's spread. "This is not good at all."
"What is it?" Lavender asked in a shrill voice. Harry rolled his eyes at Ron from across the table as he set out his own spread.
"You have the tower card," she said, before turning to Harry. "And you have the death card."
"Actually," said Harry, consulting 'Unfogging the Future', "Card thirteen, Death, is more of a sign of proverbial death and new beginnings rather than literal death."
Ron snickered as Professor Trelawney sniffed and headed over to her biggest fans, Parvati and Lavender. Turning back to Ron, Harry shrugged and they both broke out into a grin. When class ended, Ron and Harry headed for Transfiguration, laughing about Trelawney's reaction to Harry's spread.
"She killed me four times that period," said Harry as they met Hermione and walked into the classroom. "I had a very difficult time not laughing when she screamed out and pretended to faint that last time."
"I don't know why you don't just drop that class and take something more practical," preached Hermione, slipping her fingers into Ron's.
"Because Trelawney's class is always entertaining. It makes us laugh," Harry explained as Professor McGonagall entered and Transfiguration began.
After class, Hermione and Ron trudged along next to Harry, their fingers interlocked. Entering the Great Hall for lunch, Harry had managed to go without thinking about Draco from breakfast to the moment his eyes laid on him again. Ever since receiving Sirius's letter, his mind had been distracted by things like his godfather, Trelawney's absurd predictions, and transfiguring cacti into roses. It was actually a relief to not be thinking about Draco every second, but as his eyes fell on him, Harry released a low sigh. Following Ron and Hermione, he took a seat facing the Slytherin table and began to eat.
Draco's eyes caught his and Harry felt his hear flutter in his chest. His throat felt as if it had gone dry and Harry swallowed hard. "What do we have after lunch?" asked Harry.
"Potions," Ron replied. "It's a shame, too, because Snape's been in a rotten mood all week. He yelled at Fred and George twice before class even started. Even caught him yelling at Malfoy in the hall and you know how Snape usually adores him."
Harry caught Draco's eyes form across the room. He blinked twice, watching Draco eat his lunch, eyes never drifting from Harry. Potions? Harry tried to swallow again, his mouth and throat burning. The anticipation of meeting Draco that night was not going to mix well with having him so close and especially not in Potions, a class that Harry normally did not do well in.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught Ron and Hermione packing up their things. He stood up, following the actions of most students who were finishing up with lunch and preparing for afternoon classes. Walking toward the dungeons, he could see Malfoy's infamous head of blond hair bouncing along up ahead, Crabbe and Goyle, towering on either side of him. Approaching the classroom, they had just about reached the door when Malfoy spun on his heels to face them. One glare for each of the three and Draco disappeared inside.
"What is up with him?" Hermione almost shouted. "I'd hate to admit it, but it creeps me out when Malfoy doesn't insult us. All he ever does is stare anymore. It's like he's gone mute."
"I know what you mean," answered Ron as they entered Snape's classroom and took seats on the other side of the room from Malfoy and friends. "That's how this entire year has been unfolding. Everything is awful strange, don't you think so, Harry?"
"Strange, indeed," responded Harry, watching Draco from across the room.
"Class," Snape called, grabbing everyone's attention. His greasy black hair hung in his eyes as he stared down Harry through it. "Today we'll be starting on a good fortune potion. This is more complicated than some of the other you've done," he said as his eyes narrowed, first at Harry and then at Neville Longbottom. " Today you'll work on the first half of the potion and we'll continue next class. Pay close attention because one wrong move will be the difference of life and death." Neville could be heard gulping. "Now, for partners."
Snape began pairing off students and Harry was torn between hoping that Snape would put him with Draco and hoping that Snape wouldn't. When it finally came around to him, Snape paired up Harry with Hermione and it, instead, was Ron who got sent to work with Malfoy. Harry found himself staring at Ron with jealousy as he dragged himself over to work alongside Malfoy, a scowl on his face.
"You know," drawled Draco as Ron slunk down beside him, "I'm no happier about his arrangement than you are, Weasel." Grabbing a piece of parchment, Draco smoothed it out between himself and Ron, consulting the directions Snape had passed out. Ron glared at Malfoy before turning his attention down to the parchment as well.
They began to get the ingredients and work on the first half of the potion as Professor Snape had instructed. Looking up, Draco caught Ron staring across the room, all movement ceased and little attention being paid to the potion. Sighing, Draco followed Ron's line of gaze before trying to get him back on task and his eyes first fell on Hermione and then, Harry. He should have known the weasel would be staring at his mudblood girlfriend and Draco tried to go back to their potion but Ron's wavering attention and Harry moving out of the corner of his eye was distracting him too much.
Since about halfway through his third year at Hogwarts, Draco had been trying to take more solitary time to himself between the pressures from his father increasing and the dementors swarming around school grounds. It was during that time when he began to question the path set out for him; began to question why he did the things that he did. It was then when Draco realized that somewhere along the way, he had lost himself. It was then that Draco realized he only ever hated Harry Potter because his father told him to and maybe also doing with a great part of jealousy over Harry's fame. Despite the false hate and the intense jealousy, Draco never thought he'd be feeling for Harry what he was feeling now.
Ever since summer vacation, sometime in July Draco thought, Harry had been on his mind. His dreams were filled with erotic fantasies that Draco would wake up from, bathed in sweat, and wondering where those thoughts came from. The very thought of Harry could turn his breathing shallow and erratic. After consideration, Draco picking apart his actions, reactions, thoughts, and dreams with a fine tooth comb, he finally came to a conclusion that made him want to cry in frustration with himself and relief from having an answer that felt right. Sometimes Draco thought he thought too much.
He denied it over and over again, but Draco couldn't argue with the inevitable, even if the actual argument was with himself. Draco tried to lie to himself time and time again, but his thoughts always would protest against the denial and his heart would wrench in his chest. His dreams only betrayed him. Once back at Hogwarts and back in Harry's continuous presence, he couldn't deny the sparks that flowed between them, jolted his very being whenever Harry was near.
There was one infallible truth to Draco Malfoy and that would be that he lived to fight with Harry Potter. The thrill had nothing to do with Harry being the famous Boy-Who-Lived (even if that was indeed what started it all) nor did it come from Harry being, in the simplest terms with the most convenient definitions, good when Draco was supposedly evil. No thrill came from the fights alone. The thrill came from being so close in proximity to Harry, those emerald eyes glowering into the slate of Draco's. It came from being so close that they were breathing the same oxygen and Draco could almost taste Harry's breath.
When had he gone and turned into a queer? That question haunted Draco and he tried to forget about it but he more Draco tried to bury it, the more it wanted to be unearthed. After that, Draco decided the only way he could keep sane was to admit his fancy for Harry to himself. It was okay for Draco to want Harry so long as no one ever knew about it.
That had gone well for Draco and he fell back into old worries, an old bag of tricks as far as Draco was concerned. It had gone well, that is until Harry apparently had caught Draco in one of his moments and became soft to him. Ever since Harry's attitude changed toward him, Draco found himself wanting Harry even more. Something about him was magnetic and beautiful, drawing Draco into Harry and keeping him there. Now he knew for certain that Harry cared about him and he never laughed knowing Draco was vulnerable. He wanted Harry more than ever, and now they were meeting tonight.
Dropping asphodel into the cauldron, an explosion sounded, pulling Draco out of his trance. He had been, like Snape, staring at Harry but instead of waiting for Harry to screw up like Snape was, Draco had drifted into his own world where everything was perfect and Harry wanted him too. Now there was a hole forming in the side of the cauldron and Snape was rushing over to them, cursing about adding too much asphodel and following instructions. Ron glared at him.
"What is this, Mr. Weasley?" demanded Snape, looming over their cauldron, which was now leaking in a steady flow, the liquid burning holes in the table and the floor as it ran along. "Stand back, class," he ordered as he whipped out his wand and stopped the potion's attack. He snarled, looking down at Ron, Draco and the mess of a cauldron. His lower lip twitched as he said, "Explain, Weasley. And for that little show, ten points will be taken from Gryffindor."
Ron tried to bite back his anger but it came exploding out in waves. "Me?" he howled. "It was Malfoy. He's the one who added the asphodel. Why is it only Gryffindor you take points from?"
"Detention, Weasley," snarled Snape, "for that mouth of yours. Anyone else want to join him?"
"I will," responded Hermione and all eyes turned to her, mouths gaping. "I'm sorry, Professor, but that isn't fair. If Ron says it was Malfoy's mistake, Gryffindor shouldn't be penalized for it, and if I have to get detention for saying so, then so be it."
"Very well, Miss Granger," replied Snape. "Ten more points from Gryffindor and you'll be joining Mr. Weasley in detention. I know how you're so fond of each other. Hagrid does need help tonight by the lake."
Draco had been hanging his head through the entire spectacle, feeling guilty for getting Ron punished for his mistake. Even if he was a Weasley, he was Harry's friend and he didn't deserve this just because Draco had been spending more time checking Harry out than watching what he was doing with his potion. At Snape's final words, however, Draco's head snapped up. Hagrid and detention couldn't be by the lake tonight because that's where he was supposed to meet Harry. Draco's mind raced, looking for an answer or alternative as he began to panic.
With no other words coming to mind, Draco shouted, "Wait until my father hears about this."
Everyone now turned to Draco. He could see Snape frowning in confusion and he mentally kicked himself for letting that one slip out.
"What?" snapped Ron. "Nothing happened to you. You're teacher's pet. Wait until your father hears about what?"
"About," Draco spit out, searching for words. "About-" He tried again and his eyes scanned the room in desperation. He could feel his usually pale face going flush. "About what happened to my cauldron."
"Your cauldron?" bit back Ron. "That was my cauldron, you git."
"Oh," Draco said, trying to force a laugh. "No bother, then. I guess with how poor your family is, it'll be awhile until you replace it. Wasn't your brother writing about leaking cauldrons? Guess you should have had him inspect yours, eh?"
"If you say one more thing about my family," threatened Ron, clenching his hands into fists.
"Didn't you say that before?" asked Draco, forcing a smirk. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco caught Harry scowling at him and the smirk fell from his face.
"What are you doing?" yelled Harry from across the room and he frowned when everyone turned to stare at him. Professor Snape was looking especially unpleasant. "Shove off, Malfoy. You've already gone and gotten Ron into enough trouble. Why don't you know just when to come off it."
"QUIET!" shouted Snape and all eyes turned forward to their teacher. "All four of you will be serving detention tonight with Hagrid out by the lake. You are to report there straight after dinner. I'll owl Hagrid about it. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy, I expect better from you next class. I'm especially disappointed with you, Mr. Malfoy. You've always been such a good student in this class. Lately you've done nothing but cause trouble. Even Mr. Longbottom is proving to have a better chance at passing than you do. Keep in mind, Mr. Malfoy, that favoritism will only get you so far."
The class ended with Snape's words and Draco was out before Harry got the chance to talk to him. Going back to Gryffindor tower, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the other fifth year Gryffindors complained about Snape's unfair reaction toward Ron. Everyone agreed that it was Malfoy who had been in the wrong. It was dinnertime before they knew it and Harry barely touched his meal as his anticipation rose in his throat, dreading detention.
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Loved something. Hated something. Tell me in a REVIEW or email me at angeldlsm00@hotmail.com
~Kiara
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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Harry stood dumbfounded, watching Draco retreat, and Harry found his eyes drifting to run over the curves of Draco's body as he walked. His throat went dry and Harry shuddered, his eyelids fluttering across his cheeks as he thought of Draco. Never expecting to get caught, the shock of Draco finding him was more than enough for Harry to deal with, much less Draco's reaction. Unfortunately, though the reaction was as best as it could be, Harry wished Draco would have been more like himself. By acting the way he did, Draco practically fell into Harry. As soon as Harry told Draco he cared, looking him over with genuine eyes of concern, Draco had melted into Harry's palm.
Harry walked into the common room and went straight up to the dormitories. He changed into his pajamas, slid into bed, and let his thoughts drift back to Draco. Hearing him say Harry's name instead of just Potter sent shivers down Harry's spine. Being so close to him didn't help either and Harry soon found it impossible to forget about Draco.
All he wanted was for someone to care about him. With the way Draco's entire body relaxed, his breathing steadied, and his face and eyes became soft, Harry could tell he was desperate for it. Draco was starved for affection, not a big surprise to Harry when the Malfoy family was considered. Harry wanted to fill him, satiate his hunger for affection, and make him never want to walk away again.
He crept into every inch of his body as Harry could make out the dark shadowy figures of Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas coming up to bed. Something about Draco was exhilarating, and the thought of meeting up with him tomorrow night made Harry want to scream in excitement. The thought of Draco talking to him, telling him things, and confiding in him was beyond any dream Harry could ask for. Even if they were both guys, Harry couldn't deny how complete he always felt when Draco was around. That feeling alone was enough for Harry to cast aside his insecurities on the homosexual issue.
Adrenaline pumped through his veins, refusing to let Harry drift anywhere long enough to go to sleep. Every conscious thought was centered on Draco, and, at this moment, Harry would want it to be any other way. Beneath the scarlet sheets, his body was shaking in anticipation and elation. Draco actually wanted to talk and he actually suggested talking to Harry. Both of these things alone made Harry's life. If Voldemort broke in the dormitory and killed Harry at that very moment, he could die complete, satisfied.
Harry finally began to drift as he heard footsteps padding into the dormitory and Ron could be heard sliding into his bed. "Harry?" he asked, soft so as not to wake anyone. "Are you awake?"
"Barely." Harry mumbled in reply. "What is it?"
"Malfoy didn't cause any problems after I left did he?" asked Ron.
"No problems," Harry reassured. "In fact, all I did was walk around a bit. We didn't ever speak to each other. I told you I could take care of myself." The lie burned on Harry's tongue, guilt overcoming his mind, and he could feel bile rising in his throat, licking at the back.
"I just wanted to make sure," Ron answered. "Malfoy sure has been acting strange lately, hasn't he?"
"Yeah," answered Harry. "I imagine there's some sort of explanation. One that we probably won't know."
"Not that I'd want to know," spit out Ron. "Draco Malfoy has been our number two enemy since the train ride as first years. I wish his father would have sent him to Durmstrang. If he insults my family on more time-" Ron's voice drifted off. "And the way he treats Hermione."
"I know," Harry replied, his stomach twisting even further with guilt. Malfoy had never been nice to him or his friends, much less treated them with civility, and here was Harry lusting after him. Here was Harry scheduling where and when to meet Malfoy in secret. But maybe this could be a chance to bridge them and make peace.
Ron didn't say another word and it wasn't much later when Harry could see Ron's chest rising and falling in rhythm, a light snore coming from his bed. Harry, too, began to doze and it wasn't long until he was also fast asleep, visions of Draco Malfoy dancing in his head.
Awaking the next morning, Draco dressed quickly and went down to the Slytherin common room, avoiding the eyes of his fellow Slytherins. Slipping out the stone wall, Draco set off down the corridors and in the direction of the Great Hall. The first thought that crossed his mind was that Harry was going to be there at breakfast, probably staring at Draco, like he had so many times over the past few weeks. Draco felt so stupid. With how different Harry had been toward him, Draco should have known that there was something up. How could he have missed it?
Strolling into the Great Hall, Draco could see Crabbe and Goyle sitting at the table already, eating. Unfortunately, Pansy was there, too, and Draco headed over to his favorite seat. Facing the Gryffindor table, Draco could see that Harry was already there, sitting with the Weasley and that mudblood, Granger. Their eyes met as Harry continued his conversation with his friends and Draco offered him the smallest smile he could muster.
His stomach was churning, flopping all over the place inside Draco's body. Everything was finally beginning to make some sense to Draco after weeks of utter confusion. Potter had been different, growing increasingly more reverent to Draco. Between the stares, the kindness after Draco's time holed up in the common room, and the confrontation in Hogsmeade, Harry was civil to Draco to say the least.
Why was Draco being so quick to trust Harry? The only thing he could come up with was that Harry really did care and it was something that Draco saw even before Harry admitted it. It was something foreign for him, someone caring about him, and once Harry had said it, Draco thought maybe that was what he had been feeling from Harry for weeks. He hated feeling so weak, jumping at every chance Harry was offering him to talk. Before Draco knew it, he was going to be pouring his hear and soul out to Potter and hoping that Harry cared enough to still be there, offering his friendship. As long as he had the good sense to keep Draco's thoughts to himself, they would get along just fine. Besides, it would be a nice change for Draco to have a friend, a real friend he trusted, and not just the Slytherin goons that always flanked his sides. Even if it was Potter, it was something Draco had been craving for a long time.
He sighed, looking up as owls began to swoop in overhead, bringing mail to the Hogwarts students. Draco's eyes fell shut, hoping that there would be no messages for him from father. As they opened again, Draco sighed with relief at there being no mail for him and looking up, his eye drifted and landed on Harry who was reading a bit of parchment.
"What is it, Harry?" asked Hermione, peering over Harry's shoulder.
Harry looked up form the parchment, glancing at Draco before turning to look at Hermione. Making sure that no one was listening in, he said, "It's from Sirius." in a hushed tone. Ron and Hermione leaned in as Harry spread out the parchment for only himself and his friends to see.
Harry,
Haven't heard from you in some time so I thought I'd drop you an owl. Keep an eye out, Harry. Voldemort is being unusually quiet and that can't be a good thing. Remember to keep me updated.
Sirius
"You haven't been writing him?" questioned Hermione in a scold. "The only things Sirius ever wants you to do is to be careful and keep him updated."
"I guess I just forgot," said Harry. He turned over the parchment, writing a quick reply, and sending Hedwig off again. "What do you have this morning?"
"Arithmancy," replied Hermione, sitting straight up. "And I suppose you two have Divination."
"Unfortunately," Ron said, stifling a laugh. "How many times do you think you'll die today?"
"At least three," answered Harry, smiling. "I suppose we should be going."
Ron, Hermione, and Harry stood form their chairs, gathering up their things, and headed for their classes. Hermione departed form them and Ron walked next to Harry as they headed for the North Tower. Climbing the silvery ladder and though the trap door into Professor Trelawney's classroom. As soon as they entered, the smoky scent of perfume hit their senses, making both Ron and Harry woozy. They headed toward the back of the classroom, sitting down at one of the circular tables and squinting through faint, crimson light.
"Today," Trelawney said, sweeping to the front of the room, shawl around her shoulders and beads dangling from her neck, "we will be starting the study of the tarot cards. Now, I want you to partner up and take a tarot deck from the shelf. We will be practicing the Celtic Cross spread. I want you to use pages one hundred to one hundred seven for the spread and deciphering."
Harry and Ron walked over to retrieve a tarot deck and returned to their seats. Flipping open their copies of 'Unfogging the Future', they turned to the pages indicated and Ron slid the cards out of their box.
"There's two arcanas," Harry read aloud. "The major arcana indicates major events while the minor arcana is secondary events. In the minor arcana there are four suits of swords, pentacles, wands, and cups."
"Now how do we do this Celtic Cross?" asked Ron and he looked at his own book before laying out ten cards for the spread.
"Oh dear," Harry could hear Professor Trelawney say in a whisper, hovering over Ron's spread. "This is not good at all."
"What is it?" Lavender asked in a shrill voice. Harry rolled his eyes at Ron from across the table as he set out his own spread.
"You have the tower card," she said, before turning to Harry. "And you have the death card."
"Actually," said Harry, consulting 'Unfogging the Future', "Card thirteen, Death, is more of a sign of proverbial death and new beginnings rather than literal death."
Ron snickered as Professor Trelawney sniffed and headed over to her biggest fans, Parvati and Lavender. Turning back to Ron, Harry shrugged and they both broke out into a grin. When class ended, Ron and Harry headed for Transfiguration, laughing about Trelawney's reaction to Harry's spread.
"She killed me four times that period," said Harry as they met Hermione and walked into the classroom. "I had a very difficult time not laughing when she screamed out and pretended to faint that last time."
"I don't know why you don't just drop that class and take something more practical," preached Hermione, slipping her fingers into Ron's.
"Because Trelawney's class is always entertaining. It makes us laugh," Harry explained as Professor McGonagall entered and Transfiguration began.
After class, Hermione and Ron trudged along next to Harry, their fingers interlocked. Entering the Great Hall for lunch, Harry had managed to go without thinking about Draco from breakfast to the moment his eyes laid on him again. Ever since receiving Sirius's letter, his mind had been distracted by things like his godfather, Trelawney's absurd predictions, and transfiguring cacti into roses. It was actually a relief to not be thinking about Draco every second, but as his eyes fell on him, Harry released a low sigh. Following Ron and Hermione, he took a seat facing the Slytherin table and began to eat.
Draco's eyes caught his and Harry felt his hear flutter in his chest. His throat felt as if it had gone dry and Harry swallowed hard. "What do we have after lunch?" asked Harry.
"Potions," Ron replied. "It's a shame, too, because Snape's been in a rotten mood all week. He yelled at Fred and George twice before class even started. Even caught him yelling at Malfoy in the hall and you know how Snape usually adores him."
Harry caught Draco's eyes form across the room. He blinked twice, watching Draco eat his lunch, eyes never drifting from Harry. Potions? Harry tried to swallow again, his mouth and throat burning. The anticipation of meeting Draco that night was not going to mix well with having him so close and especially not in Potions, a class that Harry normally did not do well in.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught Ron and Hermione packing up their things. He stood up, following the actions of most students who were finishing up with lunch and preparing for afternoon classes. Walking toward the dungeons, he could see Malfoy's infamous head of blond hair bouncing along up ahead, Crabbe and Goyle, towering on either side of him. Approaching the classroom, they had just about reached the door when Malfoy spun on his heels to face them. One glare for each of the three and Draco disappeared inside.
"What is up with him?" Hermione almost shouted. "I'd hate to admit it, but it creeps me out when Malfoy doesn't insult us. All he ever does is stare anymore. It's like he's gone mute."
"I know what you mean," answered Ron as they entered Snape's classroom and took seats on the other side of the room from Malfoy and friends. "That's how this entire year has been unfolding. Everything is awful strange, don't you think so, Harry?"
"Strange, indeed," responded Harry, watching Draco from across the room.
"Class," Snape called, grabbing everyone's attention. His greasy black hair hung in his eyes as he stared down Harry through it. "Today we'll be starting on a good fortune potion. This is more complicated than some of the other you've done," he said as his eyes narrowed, first at Harry and then at Neville Longbottom. " Today you'll work on the first half of the potion and we'll continue next class. Pay close attention because one wrong move will be the difference of life and death." Neville could be heard gulping. "Now, for partners."
Snape began pairing off students and Harry was torn between hoping that Snape would put him with Draco and hoping that Snape wouldn't. When it finally came around to him, Snape paired up Harry with Hermione and it, instead, was Ron who got sent to work with Malfoy. Harry found himself staring at Ron with jealousy as he dragged himself over to work alongside Malfoy, a scowl on his face.
"You know," drawled Draco as Ron slunk down beside him, "I'm no happier about his arrangement than you are, Weasel." Grabbing a piece of parchment, Draco smoothed it out between himself and Ron, consulting the directions Snape had passed out. Ron glared at Malfoy before turning his attention down to the parchment as well.
They began to get the ingredients and work on the first half of the potion as Professor Snape had instructed. Looking up, Draco caught Ron staring across the room, all movement ceased and little attention being paid to the potion. Sighing, Draco followed Ron's line of gaze before trying to get him back on task and his eyes first fell on Hermione and then, Harry. He should have known the weasel would be staring at his mudblood girlfriend and Draco tried to go back to their potion but Ron's wavering attention and Harry moving out of the corner of his eye was distracting him too much.
Since about halfway through his third year at Hogwarts, Draco had been trying to take more solitary time to himself between the pressures from his father increasing and the dementors swarming around school grounds. It was during that time when he began to question the path set out for him; began to question why he did the things that he did. It was then when Draco realized that somewhere along the way, he had lost himself. It was then that Draco realized he only ever hated Harry Potter because his father told him to and maybe also doing with a great part of jealousy over Harry's fame. Despite the false hate and the intense jealousy, Draco never thought he'd be feeling for Harry what he was feeling now.
Ever since summer vacation, sometime in July Draco thought, Harry had been on his mind. His dreams were filled with erotic fantasies that Draco would wake up from, bathed in sweat, and wondering where those thoughts came from. The very thought of Harry could turn his breathing shallow and erratic. After consideration, Draco picking apart his actions, reactions, thoughts, and dreams with a fine tooth comb, he finally came to a conclusion that made him want to cry in frustration with himself and relief from having an answer that felt right. Sometimes Draco thought he thought too much.
He denied it over and over again, but Draco couldn't argue with the inevitable, even if the actual argument was with himself. Draco tried to lie to himself time and time again, but his thoughts always would protest against the denial and his heart would wrench in his chest. His dreams only betrayed him. Once back at Hogwarts and back in Harry's continuous presence, he couldn't deny the sparks that flowed between them, jolted his very being whenever Harry was near.
There was one infallible truth to Draco Malfoy and that would be that he lived to fight with Harry Potter. The thrill had nothing to do with Harry being the famous Boy-Who-Lived (even if that was indeed what started it all) nor did it come from Harry being, in the simplest terms with the most convenient definitions, good when Draco was supposedly evil. No thrill came from the fights alone. The thrill came from being so close in proximity to Harry, those emerald eyes glowering into the slate of Draco's. It came from being so close that they were breathing the same oxygen and Draco could almost taste Harry's breath.
When had he gone and turned into a queer? That question haunted Draco and he tried to forget about it but he more Draco tried to bury it, the more it wanted to be unearthed. After that, Draco decided the only way he could keep sane was to admit his fancy for Harry to himself. It was okay for Draco to want Harry so long as no one ever knew about it.
That had gone well for Draco and he fell back into old worries, an old bag of tricks as far as Draco was concerned. It had gone well, that is until Harry apparently had caught Draco in one of his moments and became soft to him. Ever since Harry's attitude changed toward him, Draco found himself wanting Harry even more. Something about him was magnetic and beautiful, drawing Draco into Harry and keeping him there. Now he knew for certain that Harry cared about him and he never laughed knowing Draco was vulnerable. He wanted Harry more than ever, and now they were meeting tonight.
Dropping asphodel into the cauldron, an explosion sounded, pulling Draco out of his trance. He had been, like Snape, staring at Harry but instead of waiting for Harry to screw up like Snape was, Draco had drifted into his own world where everything was perfect and Harry wanted him too. Now there was a hole forming in the side of the cauldron and Snape was rushing over to them, cursing about adding too much asphodel and following instructions. Ron glared at him.
"What is this, Mr. Weasley?" demanded Snape, looming over their cauldron, which was now leaking in a steady flow, the liquid burning holes in the table and the floor as it ran along. "Stand back, class," he ordered as he whipped out his wand and stopped the potion's attack. He snarled, looking down at Ron, Draco and the mess of a cauldron. His lower lip twitched as he said, "Explain, Weasley. And for that little show, ten points will be taken from Gryffindor."
Ron tried to bite back his anger but it came exploding out in waves. "Me?" he howled. "It was Malfoy. He's the one who added the asphodel. Why is it only Gryffindor you take points from?"
"Detention, Weasley," snarled Snape, "for that mouth of yours. Anyone else want to join him?"
"I will," responded Hermione and all eyes turned to her, mouths gaping. "I'm sorry, Professor, but that isn't fair. If Ron says it was Malfoy's mistake, Gryffindor shouldn't be penalized for it, and if I have to get detention for saying so, then so be it."
"Very well, Miss Granger," replied Snape. "Ten more points from Gryffindor and you'll be joining Mr. Weasley in detention. I know how you're so fond of each other. Hagrid does need help tonight by the lake."
Draco had been hanging his head through the entire spectacle, feeling guilty for getting Ron punished for his mistake. Even if he was a Weasley, he was Harry's friend and he didn't deserve this just because Draco had been spending more time checking Harry out than watching what he was doing with his potion. At Snape's final words, however, Draco's head snapped up. Hagrid and detention couldn't be by the lake tonight because that's where he was supposed to meet Harry. Draco's mind raced, looking for an answer or alternative as he began to panic.
With no other words coming to mind, Draco shouted, "Wait until my father hears about this."
Everyone now turned to Draco. He could see Snape frowning in confusion and he mentally kicked himself for letting that one slip out.
"What?" snapped Ron. "Nothing happened to you. You're teacher's pet. Wait until your father hears about what?"
"About," Draco spit out, searching for words. "About-" He tried again and his eyes scanned the room in desperation. He could feel his usually pale face going flush. "About what happened to my cauldron."
"Your cauldron?" bit back Ron. "That was my cauldron, you git."
"Oh," Draco said, trying to force a laugh. "No bother, then. I guess with how poor your family is, it'll be awhile until you replace it. Wasn't your brother writing about leaking cauldrons? Guess you should have had him inspect yours, eh?"
"If you say one more thing about my family," threatened Ron, clenching his hands into fists.
"Didn't you say that before?" asked Draco, forcing a smirk. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco caught Harry scowling at him and the smirk fell from his face.
"What are you doing?" yelled Harry from across the room and he frowned when everyone turned to stare at him. Professor Snape was looking especially unpleasant. "Shove off, Malfoy. You've already gone and gotten Ron into enough trouble. Why don't you know just when to come off it."
"QUIET!" shouted Snape and all eyes turned forward to their teacher. "All four of you will be serving detention tonight with Hagrid out by the lake. You are to report there straight after dinner. I'll owl Hagrid about it. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy, I expect better from you next class. I'm especially disappointed with you, Mr. Malfoy. You've always been such a good student in this class. Lately you've done nothing but cause trouble. Even Mr. Longbottom is proving to have a better chance at passing than you do. Keep in mind, Mr. Malfoy, that favoritism will only get you so far."
The class ended with Snape's words and Draco was out before Harry got the chance to talk to him. Going back to Gryffindor tower, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the other fifth year Gryffindors complained about Snape's unfair reaction toward Ron. Everyone agreed that it was Malfoy who had been in the wrong. It was dinnertime before they knew it and Harry barely touched his meal as his anticipation rose in his throat, dreading detention.
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