Weeping willow, chapter 4. {Embers and Envelopes}
By DS
Rating: PG
Obligatory Warning: Slash. And oh how we love that slashy goodness.
Disclaimer: Characters not mine. J.K. Rowling's. Don't sue. Me Tarzan. You Jane.
Summary: So they realize. Let there be love! -Maybe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late.
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy."
-Juilet, act 1, scene 6.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione Granger paced outside the infirmary door, gnawing a fingernail. Mentally she flinched as she bit a tiny piece of skin, but then again, there were more important things than pretty fingernails anyway. Ron seemed intent on finding a flaw in the ceiling structure, and she contemplated conversation but couldn't think of anything to say.
The pair had spent the past hour or so arguing about the Quidditch game, trying to decipher the day's events, begging Madame Pomfrey to let them in to visit Harry, and basically working themselves into frenzy.
It just didn't make sense. One doesn't go from sinner to saint in the span of five minutes. Ron insisted that Malfoy was up to something. He had to be. Yet a thought in the back of Hermione's brain kept poking her in an odd way, and try as she might to dismiss the idea, it kept coming back.
"What if Draco didn't have an ulterior motive?" She thought aloud.
"Huh?" Ron looked at her.
She lapsed back into thought, and before a response could be formed, Madam Pomfrey opened the door and shooed them away to their dormitories, saying,
"Harry's just fallen back asleep. You'll have to come see him tomorrow. Poor dear, he must have a record for most time spent here."
Hermione managed a smile and followed Ron out the door. Apparently questions would have to wait until later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco woke with a start. Pale moonlight washed over his hospital bed and dimly he remembered why he was there.
Harry.
Without thinking, his eyes raked over the room until they fell on a tousled mop of hair in the corner that could only be a Potter. Draco was nearly overwhelmed by emotions just looking at him. Confusion blurred with animosity and compassion, blanketed by a healthy layer of -could that be, affection?
No.
Not a chance in hell.
Draco scrunched his eyes shut and shook his head. He tried to convince himself that Madame Pomfrey had slipped a little something extra into that warming serum, but when he thought back on the day's events-
He couldn't find a single regret.
Draco collapsed back onto his pillow with a soft 'flump'. The clock over his bed seemed unnaturally loud as he tried to pull his thoughts together. Tick. Tick. Tick. Damn the stupid clock. He glanced over at Harry, who turned over in a fitful dream. Was it possible to care for someone who you hated so much? He recalled the utter rejection Harry had thrown at him at their first meeting, and remembered where the hate had come from. That was so long ago. It wasn't Draco's style to let things go easily, but he couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if that original rejection had been acceptance. Scenes that had never happened flickered through his mind: Harry and him laughing together, Harry and him studying in the library with heads bent close together, Harry and him spending hours talking late at night- All the lost possibilities and roads untaken.
He rolled towards over and stared out the window, brooding. He was so engulfed in his reverie that he didn't notice any movement in the room until it was nearly upon him.
"D-Draco?"
Draco sat bolt upright to find himself nose-to-nose with the subject of his musings: Harry Potter. Of course. Golden Boy just has to wake up *now *. He swallowed and tried not to look Harry in the eyes as he searched for words. Useless. Jade swallowed silver and Draco found himself pleasantly speechless.
"Hello, Potter," was the best he could manage.
Harry pulled back and seemed as lost for words as Draco.
//Pull yourself together, Malfoy! // Draco straightened up and questioned, "Shouldn't you be asleep? Your wounded pride is surely in need of recovery."
"Wounded-what? Oh. That. Well, I mean, you won fair enough, right? Not much I can do about it now." Harry told his toes.
This came as a surprise to Draco. Potter, admitting defeat? He must have a lot of water in his ears or something. Try as he might, he had no way to respond to this open honesty.
Harry filled in for him, though not quite in the way he had hoped. "Uh, I was just wondering-Why-Uh, I mean, what happened there?"
Draco found himself saying exactly what he didn't mean to say.
"I jumped in after you."
"*You* pulled me out?!"
The blonde boy turned a glare on him. "No need to act so surprised, Potter. Slytherin's victory might have been forfeited if you had died or something," Draco replied, trying to sound harsh.
Harry wasn't fooled. He sat on the bed and peered at Draco. "You saved my life."
Draco turned towards the window nervously, "Just go back to your bed, before you make me wish I hadn't."
Harry didn't move for a second, and Draco made the fatal mistake of looking at him. Harry caught his stare and touched him lightly on the sleeve.
"Thank you. I owe you one," he said.
Draco was painfully aware of Harry's hand on his arm, and searched for a reply.
"You're welcome." Draco couldn't believe his own ears, but decided to ask questions later.
"You didn't have to do that, you know."
"Of-of course I didn't. I never do anything against my will, you should know that." Grey eyes dropped to the side.
"So why bother to save your enemy?" Harry raised one quizzical brow.
Draco met his gaze and allowed himself a tiny smirk. "I've spent too much time on hating you to have all that effort put out for nothing."
The corner of Harry's lips quirked upwards into a half-smile. "Why bother with hating me then?"
Silence filled the fracture in conversation, and the boys seemed about ready to start another staring contest, when Madame Pomfrey made an extraordinary entrance with a beaker of vile green potion in each hand.
"Boys! What is going on here? Harry, why are you out of bed?" she set down the glasses and felt Harry's forehead.
"Oh, nothing Madame Pomfrey. Draco just had a nightmare so I came over and woke him up."
Draco was amazed at the fluidity of this lie. The nurse handed him one of the foul-smelling beakers and ushered Harry back to bed, telling him how he needed to give his hand time to heal. Draco's eyes never left Harry's, even as the well-meaning woman drew a curtain around each of them.
"I want you two to stay out of trouble," she scolded, and left so they could have some peace. The potion was a thick, sticky brew, but it succeeded in putting Draco into a deep, dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Well, boys, you seem well enough to go back to your regular classes. How does your wrist feel, Harry?" Madame Pomfrey was a solid pillar of scrutiny as she appraised the two patients in front of her.
Harry flexed his wrist and flashed a smile bright enough to rival the sunlight outside the window.
"Okay, I'd rather not see either of you for at least a month, though I doubt that's going to happen," She said with a wry smile.
"Thank you, ma'am." The boys chorused and headed out the door.
Madame Pomfrey watched them out, shaking her head and chuckling to herself. She could see what was happening, plain as day. The only question in her mind was when they would figure it out for themselves.
Harry watched Draco out of the corner of his eye, noting how the other boy was consciously avoiding his gaze, his face a mask of indifference. Their footsteps echoed down the hall in an unbroken rhythm until Harry decided to break the tension.
"You planning on becoming a monk or something?" He prodded.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Draco answered, staring straight ahead.
"Aha! Sir Malfoy breaks his vow of silence!" Harry said jovially, grinning. When Draco didn't answer, Harry's grin faded. He couldn't figure out why Draco wasn't rising up to start another round of insults. In fact, the Slytherin seemed almost subdued.
//He did save my life. That's probably going to eat him up for a while, prideful wretch. I don't know why he did it, but it's got to be something more than the Quidditch game. // Harry gave Draco the warmest smile he could, thinking //Maybe there's more to Malfoy than we thought. //
"Potter. Just because I did you a, --favor or something," Draco paused, "This doesn't mean that we are friends. You don't owe me anything, so don't try to be nice to me or something, okay?"
Harry was shocked. The enemy status didn't surprise him much, but what Draco had said about not owing anything-that was distinctly un-Draco. Harry inwardly cursed as the doors to the Great Hall loomed in his sight. There was no time to discuss, no time to think. Draco looked almost relieved as a flood of students swamped them; all asking questions at once like paparazzi. Harry found himself swept to The Gryffindor breakfast table by confused, outraged students while Draco was pulled away by cheering Slytherins. Harry watched as Draco stepped back into his old skin, grinning and sneering as the Slytherin clan congratulated him on a crushing victory. For some reason, Harry felt a twinge of sadness as he watched Draco go through his act of playing the ever-haughty Malfoy.
Seamus brought him back to reality (and back to the small mob of Gryffindors surrounding the table) by yelling, " Oy! Harry! Are you gonna demand a rematch?"
Harry blinked, and his voice was lost under the chattering of the group. He looked at Ron and Hermione pleadingly, so Ron took initiative and jumped up on the table.
In a voice that might have been mistaken for a sonorous charm, he growled, "Okay, folks! I don't know what went on in the lake, or the game. And I don't think Harry knows much about why or when or who either. He was unconscious, right? There *might * be a rematch. And no, Harry doesn't plan on any sort of revenge just yet. So do him a favor, and bugger off!"
The students settled back down at the table, creating a dull roar of talk, which made a harmonious undertone to the Slytherins' bawdy cheering and song. Harry sent a thankful glance at Ron, who half-smiled in return. The trio selected a quieter end of the table and commenced to eating and blathering.
"Ok Harry, you first," Hermione said, shushing Ron with a clapped hand over his mouth. He fumed, turning red and ranting behind her fingers, but she held firm.
"What do you want to know first?" Harry asked.
"Malfoy," Hermione said, her hand still over the mouth of a silently fuming Ron.
Malfoy. Of course. The subject he was still mentally turning over himself. He sighed.
"I honestly don't know. I don't know why he did it. He said it was because Slytherin could have forfeited if I'd -died or something-"
Hermione looked pensive, lost in thought until Ron bit her finger fiercely. "OWWW!" She yelped, and swung at the freckled boy.
"Harry!" He gasped, "He's got something up his sleeve, I know it!"
Hermione looked skywards.
"No, I'm serious!" He continued, "He's been watching you ever since you two had detention together!"
"That's not exactly a decade, Ron," Hermione said.
Harry focused on Ron like an energy beam. "What do you mean, watching me?" He asked slowly.
Ron had calmed down enough to speak clearly. "I noticed him kind of glaring at you during potions the day after, which was kinda weird since he usually doesn't give a hoot in hell about us. But I noticed that he'd stare at you kind of, then frown and go back to what he was doing. He's plotting something, Harry. I know it."
Hermione frowned thoughtfully, and didn't speak. Harry looked over again at the Slytherin table, where Draco was laughing and obviously re-enacting the last crucial moments of the Quidditch match. Nobody seemed to care that he had fraternized with the enemy and saved his archrival. They were all too caught up in the thrill of victory. Draco laughed along with his friends, a picture of happiness and not a little pride.
Ron looked at both of his silent friends and raised an eyebrow.
"Guys. Guys? 'Ey!"
Harry snapped out of it and focused back on his friends. Hermione seemed to be muttering to herself about something and rummaging through her book bag. The boys both shrugged and Ron asked, "So, what happened with the match, eh?"
Harry put his thoughts to the side and launched into a detailed account of what had happened nine stories above the Quidditch pitch the day before.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco watched Harry turn away and start talking to his two friends, gesturing animatedly. Draco answered his peers' questions with barely a thought, as all his attention was focused on a mop-topped boy across the room. Draco turned back to his posse and set his thoughts on a back burner- for now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The day passed in a blur of questions and half answers for Harry. Potions wasn't until tomorrow, so he didn't see Draco all day. Harry bent over his Divination homework, scribbling and indexing furiously.
//Pluto is in the seventh house tonight. Destiny and personal relationships collide. This means-There is an opportunity for great change because, errrrr, tomorrow the sun is rising in the twelfth house. //
Harry rolled up his parchment with a sigh. He wasn't fond of making up material for assignments, but sometimes it was necessary. Figuring out the planets was easy enough, but the part of divination where one could actually tell the future quite escaped him.
He drummed his fingers on the table for a while and drew lazy loops on a spare scrap of paper. He wandered up to the common room contemplating a late walk, and dug under his bed for the invisibility cloak. But his fingers met only cobwebs and the odd sock.
//What the-? // Harry thought. He could have sworn he left it right--------
Oh dear. He'd left it back in the hidden astronomy room, with Draco. Only one thing to do, get out and find it.
Harry put on a black sweatshirt, and keeping close to the wall so as not to be noticed, slipped out into the darkness of a sleeping Hogwarts castle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco put his feet up on the desk and gazed through the skylight several stories up. He had been trying to think for the past hour or so, but every thing seemed to bleed together like ink on wet paper. Wet paper, like the spell his father had given him. It had gone into the lake with him when he dove after Harry, and the writing was ruined. He picked up the now-brittle piece of parchment and stared at it, his mind working in slow, tight circles. After a long moment, he pulled his wand out of his pocket.
"Incendio," He whispered, and the parchment became a merry blaze. Draco watched the embers smoldering on the desktop and looked up through the skylight again. He wasn't sure what had to be done, but action was definitely required. Harry's invisibility cloak lay heaped in an armchair, and Draco stretched out to pick it up. He let it puddle like silk into his lap, and with a decisive gesture Draco swept the ashes of his father's spell into an envelope and strode out of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry padded swiftly down the halls, trying to reach the astronomy Tower in the fastest time possible. Watching on either side of him for any lurking caretakers, he sprinted as quietly as he could through the ghostly halls. He was rounding a corner in the Charms corridor when he careened smack into-
Thin air.
He crumpled to the ground with a yelp of fear, and gasped in horror when the air in front of him distorted itself to reveal the face of-
Draco Malfoy.
Fancy meeting you here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(special thank yous to Corinna)
By DS
Rating: PG
Obligatory Warning: Slash. And oh how we love that slashy goodness.
Disclaimer: Characters not mine. J.K. Rowling's. Don't sue. Me Tarzan. You Jane.
Summary: So they realize. Let there be love! -Maybe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late.
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy."
-Juilet, act 1, scene 6.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione Granger paced outside the infirmary door, gnawing a fingernail. Mentally she flinched as she bit a tiny piece of skin, but then again, there were more important things than pretty fingernails anyway. Ron seemed intent on finding a flaw in the ceiling structure, and she contemplated conversation but couldn't think of anything to say.
The pair had spent the past hour or so arguing about the Quidditch game, trying to decipher the day's events, begging Madame Pomfrey to let them in to visit Harry, and basically working themselves into frenzy.
It just didn't make sense. One doesn't go from sinner to saint in the span of five minutes. Ron insisted that Malfoy was up to something. He had to be. Yet a thought in the back of Hermione's brain kept poking her in an odd way, and try as she might to dismiss the idea, it kept coming back.
"What if Draco didn't have an ulterior motive?" She thought aloud.
"Huh?" Ron looked at her.
She lapsed back into thought, and before a response could be formed, Madam Pomfrey opened the door and shooed them away to their dormitories, saying,
"Harry's just fallen back asleep. You'll have to come see him tomorrow. Poor dear, he must have a record for most time spent here."
Hermione managed a smile and followed Ron out the door. Apparently questions would have to wait until later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco woke with a start. Pale moonlight washed over his hospital bed and dimly he remembered why he was there.
Harry.
Without thinking, his eyes raked over the room until they fell on a tousled mop of hair in the corner that could only be a Potter. Draco was nearly overwhelmed by emotions just looking at him. Confusion blurred with animosity and compassion, blanketed by a healthy layer of -could that be, affection?
No.
Not a chance in hell.
Draco scrunched his eyes shut and shook his head. He tried to convince himself that Madame Pomfrey had slipped a little something extra into that warming serum, but when he thought back on the day's events-
He couldn't find a single regret.
Draco collapsed back onto his pillow with a soft 'flump'. The clock over his bed seemed unnaturally loud as he tried to pull his thoughts together. Tick. Tick. Tick. Damn the stupid clock. He glanced over at Harry, who turned over in a fitful dream. Was it possible to care for someone who you hated so much? He recalled the utter rejection Harry had thrown at him at their first meeting, and remembered where the hate had come from. That was so long ago. It wasn't Draco's style to let things go easily, but he couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if that original rejection had been acceptance. Scenes that had never happened flickered through his mind: Harry and him laughing together, Harry and him studying in the library with heads bent close together, Harry and him spending hours talking late at night- All the lost possibilities and roads untaken.
He rolled towards over and stared out the window, brooding. He was so engulfed in his reverie that he didn't notice any movement in the room until it was nearly upon him.
"D-Draco?"
Draco sat bolt upright to find himself nose-to-nose with the subject of his musings: Harry Potter. Of course. Golden Boy just has to wake up *now *. He swallowed and tried not to look Harry in the eyes as he searched for words. Useless. Jade swallowed silver and Draco found himself pleasantly speechless.
"Hello, Potter," was the best he could manage.
Harry pulled back and seemed as lost for words as Draco.
//Pull yourself together, Malfoy! // Draco straightened up and questioned, "Shouldn't you be asleep? Your wounded pride is surely in need of recovery."
"Wounded-what? Oh. That. Well, I mean, you won fair enough, right? Not much I can do about it now." Harry told his toes.
This came as a surprise to Draco. Potter, admitting defeat? He must have a lot of water in his ears or something. Try as he might, he had no way to respond to this open honesty.
Harry filled in for him, though not quite in the way he had hoped. "Uh, I was just wondering-Why-Uh, I mean, what happened there?"
Draco found himself saying exactly what he didn't mean to say.
"I jumped in after you."
"*You* pulled me out?!"
The blonde boy turned a glare on him. "No need to act so surprised, Potter. Slytherin's victory might have been forfeited if you had died or something," Draco replied, trying to sound harsh.
Harry wasn't fooled. He sat on the bed and peered at Draco. "You saved my life."
Draco turned towards the window nervously, "Just go back to your bed, before you make me wish I hadn't."
Harry didn't move for a second, and Draco made the fatal mistake of looking at him. Harry caught his stare and touched him lightly on the sleeve.
"Thank you. I owe you one," he said.
Draco was painfully aware of Harry's hand on his arm, and searched for a reply.
"You're welcome." Draco couldn't believe his own ears, but decided to ask questions later.
"You didn't have to do that, you know."
"Of-of course I didn't. I never do anything against my will, you should know that." Grey eyes dropped to the side.
"So why bother to save your enemy?" Harry raised one quizzical brow.
Draco met his gaze and allowed himself a tiny smirk. "I've spent too much time on hating you to have all that effort put out for nothing."
The corner of Harry's lips quirked upwards into a half-smile. "Why bother with hating me then?"
Silence filled the fracture in conversation, and the boys seemed about ready to start another staring contest, when Madame Pomfrey made an extraordinary entrance with a beaker of vile green potion in each hand.
"Boys! What is going on here? Harry, why are you out of bed?" she set down the glasses and felt Harry's forehead.
"Oh, nothing Madame Pomfrey. Draco just had a nightmare so I came over and woke him up."
Draco was amazed at the fluidity of this lie. The nurse handed him one of the foul-smelling beakers and ushered Harry back to bed, telling him how he needed to give his hand time to heal. Draco's eyes never left Harry's, even as the well-meaning woman drew a curtain around each of them.
"I want you two to stay out of trouble," she scolded, and left so they could have some peace. The potion was a thick, sticky brew, but it succeeded in putting Draco into a deep, dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Well, boys, you seem well enough to go back to your regular classes. How does your wrist feel, Harry?" Madame Pomfrey was a solid pillar of scrutiny as she appraised the two patients in front of her.
Harry flexed his wrist and flashed a smile bright enough to rival the sunlight outside the window.
"Okay, I'd rather not see either of you for at least a month, though I doubt that's going to happen," She said with a wry smile.
"Thank you, ma'am." The boys chorused and headed out the door.
Madame Pomfrey watched them out, shaking her head and chuckling to herself. She could see what was happening, plain as day. The only question in her mind was when they would figure it out for themselves.
Harry watched Draco out of the corner of his eye, noting how the other boy was consciously avoiding his gaze, his face a mask of indifference. Their footsteps echoed down the hall in an unbroken rhythm until Harry decided to break the tension.
"You planning on becoming a monk or something?" He prodded.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Draco answered, staring straight ahead.
"Aha! Sir Malfoy breaks his vow of silence!" Harry said jovially, grinning. When Draco didn't answer, Harry's grin faded. He couldn't figure out why Draco wasn't rising up to start another round of insults. In fact, the Slytherin seemed almost subdued.
//He did save my life. That's probably going to eat him up for a while, prideful wretch. I don't know why he did it, but it's got to be something more than the Quidditch game. // Harry gave Draco the warmest smile he could, thinking //Maybe there's more to Malfoy than we thought. //
"Potter. Just because I did you a, --favor or something," Draco paused, "This doesn't mean that we are friends. You don't owe me anything, so don't try to be nice to me or something, okay?"
Harry was shocked. The enemy status didn't surprise him much, but what Draco had said about not owing anything-that was distinctly un-Draco. Harry inwardly cursed as the doors to the Great Hall loomed in his sight. There was no time to discuss, no time to think. Draco looked almost relieved as a flood of students swamped them; all asking questions at once like paparazzi. Harry found himself swept to The Gryffindor breakfast table by confused, outraged students while Draco was pulled away by cheering Slytherins. Harry watched as Draco stepped back into his old skin, grinning and sneering as the Slytherin clan congratulated him on a crushing victory. For some reason, Harry felt a twinge of sadness as he watched Draco go through his act of playing the ever-haughty Malfoy.
Seamus brought him back to reality (and back to the small mob of Gryffindors surrounding the table) by yelling, " Oy! Harry! Are you gonna demand a rematch?"
Harry blinked, and his voice was lost under the chattering of the group. He looked at Ron and Hermione pleadingly, so Ron took initiative and jumped up on the table.
In a voice that might have been mistaken for a sonorous charm, he growled, "Okay, folks! I don't know what went on in the lake, or the game. And I don't think Harry knows much about why or when or who either. He was unconscious, right? There *might * be a rematch. And no, Harry doesn't plan on any sort of revenge just yet. So do him a favor, and bugger off!"
The students settled back down at the table, creating a dull roar of talk, which made a harmonious undertone to the Slytherins' bawdy cheering and song. Harry sent a thankful glance at Ron, who half-smiled in return. The trio selected a quieter end of the table and commenced to eating and blathering.
"Ok Harry, you first," Hermione said, shushing Ron with a clapped hand over his mouth. He fumed, turning red and ranting behind her fingers, but she held firm.
"What do you want to know first?" Harry asked.
"Malfoy," Hermione said, her hand still over the mouth of a silently fuming Ron.
Malfoy. Of course. The subject he was still mentally turning over himself. He sighed.
"I honestly don't know. I don't know why he did it. He said it was because Slytherin could have forfeited if I'd -died or something-"
Hermione looked pensive, lost in thought until Ron bit her finger fiercely. "OWWW!" She yelped, and swung at the freckled boy.
"Harry!" He gasped, "He's got something up his sleeve, I know it!"
Hermione looked skywards.
"No, I'm serious!" He continued, "He's been watching you ever since you two had detention together!"
"That's not exactly a decade, Ron," Hermione said.
Harry focused on Ron like an energy beam. "What do you mean, watching me?" He asked slowly.
Ron had calmed down enough to speak clearly. "I noticed him kind of glaring at you during potions the day after, which was kinda weird since he usually doesn't give a hoot in hell about us. But I noticed that he'd stare at you kind of, then frown and go back to what he was doing. He's plotting something, Harry. I know it."
Hermione frowned thoughtfully, and didn't speak. Harry looked over again at the Slytherin table, where Draco was laughing and obviously re-enacting the last crucial moments of the Quidditch match. Nobody seemed to care that he had fraternized with the enemy and saved his archrival. They were all too caught up in the thrill of victory. Draco laughed along with his friends, a picture of happiness and not a little pride.
Ron looked at both of his silent friends and raised an eyebrow.
"Guys. Guys? 'Ey!"
Harry snapped out of it and focused back on his friends. Hermione seemed to be muttering to herself about something and rummaging through her book bag. The boys both shrugged and Ron asked, "So, what happened with the match, eh?"
Harry put his thoughts to the side and launched into a detailed account of what had happened nine stories above the Quidditch pitch the day before.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco watched Harry turn away and start talking to his two friends, gesturing animatedly. Draco answered his peers' questions with barely a thought, as all his attention was focused on a mop-topped boy across the room. Draco turned back to his posse and set his thoughts on a back burner- for now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The day passed in a blur of questions and half answers for Harry. Potions wasn't until tomorrow, so he didn't see Draco all day. Harry bent over his Divination homework, scribbling and indexing furiously.
//Pluto is in the seventh house tonight. Destiny and personal relationships collide. This means-There is an opportunity for great change because, errrrr, tomorrow the sun is rising in the twelfth house. //
Harry rolled up his parchment with a sigh. He wasn't fond of making up material for assignments, but sometimes it was necessary. Figuring out the planets was easy enough, but the part of divination where one could actually tell the future quite escaped him.
He drummed his fingers on the table for a while and drew lazy loops on a spare scrap of paper. He wandered up to the common room contemplating a late walk, and dug under his bed for the invisibility cloak. But his fingers met only cobwebs and the odd sock.
//What the-? // Harry thought. He could have sworn he left it right--------
Oh dear. He'd left it back in the hidden astronomy room, with Draco. Only one thing to do, get out and find it.
Harry put on a black sweatshirt, and keeping close to the wall so as not to be noticed, slipped out into the darkness of a sleeping Hogwarts castle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco put his feet up on the desk and gazed through the skylight several stories up. He had been trying to think for the past hour or so, but every thing seemed to bleed together like ink on wet paper. Wet paper, like the spell his father had given him. It had gone into the lake with him when he dove after Harry, and the writing was ruined. He picked up the now-brittle piece of parchment and stared at it, his mind working in slow, tight circles. After a long moment, he pulled his wand out of his pocket.
"Incendio," He whispered, and the parchment became a merry blaze. Draco watched the embers smoldering on the desktop and looked up through the skylight again. He wasn't sure what had to be done, but action was definitely required. Harry's invisibility cloak lay heaped in an armchair, and Draco stretched out to pick it up. He let it puddle like silk into his lap, and with a decisive gesture Draco swept the ashes of his father's spell into an envelope and strode out of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry padded swiftly down the halls, trying to reach the astronomy Tower in the fastest time possible. Watching on either side of him for any lurking caretakers, he sprinted as quietly as he could through the ghostly halls. He was rounding a corner in the Charms corridor when he careened smack into-
Thin air.
He crumpled to the ground with a yelp of fear, and gasped in horror when the air in front of him distorted itself to reveal the face of-
Draco Malfoy.
Fancy meeting you here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(special thank yous to Corinna)