********
The next few weeks of January saw an icy frost settle over the grounds. It was bitterly cold and as usual it had decided to snow after Christmas. The highly organised individuals of the sixth year were carefully working their way through their course work. Harry for the first time in his life gave his homework the full attention that he knew he ought to give, for personal reasons unbeknownst to Ron and Hermione. Ron had been surprised by his enthusiastic display and bemoaned it.
Hermione gave him an exasperated look.
' I'm going to make a plan for you in that homework diary that YOU still haven't used!' she reprimanded him. 'It'll be easier for you. Trust me.'
Ron groaned, ' why bother Herm? You know I'll never stick to it.'
Hermione shook her head,' well will you try?'
' Do I have an incentive?' Ron sidled his arm around her waist and nuzzled her neck. Hermione blushed.
' Well you'll just have to wait and see!' she said pushing Ron away playfully.
'Seriously', she carried on. ' This year is almost as important as next year. We're going to get the bulk of the course work done this term and we had better do well in them. It could have a serious affect on our finals, I'm telling you Ron,' she said purposely.
Ron planted a loud kiss upon her lips, 'O-K', he said. 'I get it.'
Hermione closed her mouth and tried not to smile, giving Ron a critical glance.
Harry stretched out his arms and got up off his chair. They had been sitting in the Gryffindor common room for a while now and it was nearing dinnertime. He needed any excuse to get away from writing yet another essay. He was getting finger cramp.
They made their way down the marble staircase and into the Great Hall. Out of the corner of Harry's eye, he saw Malfoy walk in and take a seat in the middle of the long table. Crabbe and Goyle sat down on either side of him. Harry watched as Zabini whispered something into Crabbe's ear, which made his face split open into a wide grin. He got up and swapped seats with her so she was sitting next to Malfoy. The blonde-haired Slytherin looked neither pleased nor displeased with the seating arrangements, and started to load up his plate. It was pretty obvious that Zabini was trying to get his attention. Harry looked away and sat down. He hated how he always seemed to notice such irrelevant things about Malfoy. Like he cared what was going on with him anyway.
He turned his attention to his food and all thoughts on Malfoy disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.
********
On the Slytherin table, Draco was eating whilst Blaise was chattering away to him. He wasn't listening, but nonetheless nodded now and again as if he were. He had seen Potter look towards him and even from this distance he could feel his piercing gaze. It was bizarre really. Ever since that ridiculous Divination assignment, Potter had been in his thoughts more than usual. Not because he was spending all that time hating him and thinking up horrid ways to humiliate and insult him. No- it was stupid things like noticing objects that were the exact shade of Potter's eyes. A cover of a book. His Slytherin scarf, the green in his tie. He could see green everywhere. The colour of sparkling emeralds. He chewed and swallowed his food and glanced at a tray stacked with vegetables. Broccoli had that same colour. Leaves that were wet and shiny after a rainfall, shared the same green. At the most strangest times, the Gryffindor's face would swim before his eyes and he was certain that somehow that day, Potter must have cursed him. He must have hexed him or something. Everyone knew Potter was a powerful wizard, who knew what he was capable of. Bastard.
Draco drank from his goblet. Truthfully he knew that nothing of the kind had happened, but he still liked to lull himself into a falsehood of reassurance. If he thought of it like that, then he wouldn't feel as if he were betraying his whole belief system by having such atrocious thoughts about a certain idiots face.
Potter was quite obviously the most beautiful looking person in all the school. Well, aside from himself naturally. It was a bit alarming that he had arrived to that conclusion all on his own. He liked girls. He was attracted to girls. He had never thought of a boy as being good looking or anything of the sort before. But it seemed Potter exceeded gender divisions. Stupid tosser, Draco thought. Even in those geeky glasses he looks ok. He wondered what Potter would look like beaten to a pulp…… wouldn't be so good looking then would he?
His face burned suddenly and he swallowed in disgust. He loathed Potter and didn't want to spend another minute thinking about him.
Blaise was leaning into him and gave him a brazen look.
' Want to practise some of your moves Draco?' she purred.
He studied her face for a moment. She was pretty, very pretty, but that Gryffindor arsehole was better looking.
' I don't know Blaise,' he said smoothly. ' I'll have to see what your moves are exactly, before I practise mine on yours.'
She gave him a broad smile and cocked a brow. ' You'll like them trust me.'
'Well,' he said moving his chair back.' We'll just have to wait and see,' and with that he got up and left the table.
Over the next week Draco became keenly aware that he had not been his usual self these two terms. He hadn't come up with a smart remark, or done any malicious activities for a while now. He didn't want the holier than thou trio thinking he had lost this touch.
He was sure that many of the students had been surprised that he hadn't tried to rip off Potter's head yet. Last year his hatred for Potter had intensified to such an extent, that he had been shaking with anger at the mere sight of him. And on the return journey back from Hogwarts he had seen red and wanted to hurt Potter any way he could. But…
He felt his cheeks warm – Potter's little friends had seen to it that their precious hero came to no injury.
Draco had fully expected to be lying in wait for the dark-haired Gryffindor come the sixth year, and make him pay for what he had done. But the summer back at the manor had almost stunned him into silence. His mother had maintained a cool indifference to the whole situation at first, which Draco had found slightly alarming. For the first time in so many years, Narcissa Malfoy was left all alone without her husband by her side, without her husband's presence surrounding her, without the assurance of when her husband would return to her – if ever. Alone in the great manor, without any direct means of contact to Lucius other than letters to and from the Ministry Of Magic.
The little information Draco had accumulated had consisted of was; the Daily Prophet article that had printed the story of the arrests, Dumbledore's brief explanation that had comprised of, ''your father has been taken to Azkaban prison,'' and a short note from his mother confirming that it was all true. Draco had hoped somehow, that Lucius would have managed to break out of prison or be freed by some loophole. But on his return home, the inevitability that his father was staying in prison for the foreseeable future was apparent.
Draco had hoped for more answers when he had arrived back, but Narcissa had not been much open to discussion in the beginning. Draco had asked her worriedly of Lucius's health and well being in which his mother had replied, 'the Dementors were no longer responsible for the prison guard, so your father is most probably not being driven insane.'
After a few minutes silence, Draco had asked what was to become of the manor? Narcissa had gazed at him with clear light eyes and said that she was legally bound to the manor and there was no need to worry about the house or any monetary issues. Again the silence as they ate dinner. Draco then asked, would he be returning to Hogwarts?
'Of course,' his mother replied, 'why wouldn't you? Your father's actions are not a reflection on what kind of student you are. Dumbledore will accept you back and you will finish your education as planned.'
She had looked down for a moment to the table and then said, 'you are safe there Draco. You will not come to harm there.'
Draco remembered swallowing a sudden lump in his throat as he looked at his mother.
She smiled at him slightly and said, ' not to worry my darling. He will return, but till then I will take care of things, do not concern yourself.'
But Draco couldn't help but be worried. One night in the Drawing room, his mother had been sitting by the fire and Draco had quietly walked in. Her beautiful face had looked so sad and so alone that his heart wrenched. Her eyes seemed to glimmer with unshed tears and Draco went silently to her and knelt down by her feet, hating the world for making his mother feel like this. Hating Dumbledore, hating Potter. He took her hand in his, and she squeezed it. He laid his head on her lap and she had started to stroke his hair and then spoke in a soft voice.
She had said that she had warned Lucius of the dangers he was putting himself into. That this time round, certain people would be more prepared and that Lucius should not be so foolhardy in any rash and haste actions. That he had a family to think about – a son. But Lucius had assured her that all was well.
'Thought he was above mere men and their mistakes. So arrogant,' Narcissa said in a dry laugh. Thought he was inexorably resistant to human blunder.
'Servitude is all very well,' Narcissa continued, 'but it is a failing when you do not stop to realise what repercussions your actions will incur.'
Narcissa was a fellow counterpart in on going events, but never put herself in the immediate path of danger. Preferring to maintain a veiled veneer that was questionable in her favour. So much in her favour that she had escaped a possible arrest too.
She had then lifted Draco's head and looked into his eyes.
'Promise me, 'she said,' that you will not mar your skin with something ugly and brand yourself into a claustrophobic coven. There are other ways to believe and fight for a cause without giving away your life. Always remember that you still have to live in this world. Your father has already once been acquitted as a reformed Death Eater. It will be harder the second time round, no?' she said in a bitter voice.
'He did not need to go that night to the Ministry. There were other Death Eaters that were all too eager to carry out further instructions. We had already given the Dark Lord specific information months before which had proven very useful to him. '
She had paused then and shook her head before continuing, 'your father should have told the Dark Lord that he was too valuable a constituent to be risking a possible capture, but your father said that it was his duty to serve the Lord and clear his path.'
His mother's eyes had a steely glow lightening them as she spoke, 'but Lucius, ' she carried on, 'is a determined and stubborn man once he has made up his mind. I disagreed to his going, but in the end assented to his decision. I can only hope that his time in prison will make him realise what risks are worth taking and what aren't. His duty is not only to the Dark Lord, but to us as well Draco. His failing was not realising this and he got caught. He can blame no one else but himself for this.'
Draco wet his lips and asked that in the article, they hadn't mentioned the recapture of his Aunt Bellatrix. His mother nodded and said that indeed her sister seemed to have escaped somehow, but had not heard from her. The manor was under ministry surveillance twenty four hours a day and his aunt would know better than to contact her.
'We are going to be fine Draco, you and I,' his mother had said with a small smile. 'I will always love you my darling, my beautiful boy,' she spoke as she hugged him close.
Draco had held onto her tightly feeling slightly lost and unsure, instead of being wholly comforted by his mother's words. He had never seen this side to her before- had never needed to. Narcissa Malfoy was a strong and beautiful woman who often appeared to be inexpressive and cold. She was neither for those who knew her well and Draco had seen her, more than once, using her feminine wiles on his father. But for most of the summer holidays she wore a stiff determined expression in her eyes and Draco felt a small chill inhabit his body.
And so he had come back to school with a heavy heart, and feeling exhausted - though grateful for the normal school routine that befell him once again. He kept his head low and got on as his mother had said. Dumbledore had called him into his office the first week back and Draco had stood quietly, but defiantly in front of the headmaster. Dumbledore watched him with shrewd eyes and said calmly that he was glad to see Draco back at school and doing well. Draco stared into the blue eyes that were fixed on him, and nodded curtly with a, 'thank you sir.'
Dumbledore had inclined his head and Draco had left the room.
By the second week, he had got used to the frequent glances shot towards him from students of the other three school houses. He ignored them and acted like he didn't care, and to a fair extent he didn't. He still had the support of his own house as other students were in a similar position to him. Professor Snape's presence was ever reassuring and Draco kept a reasonably unobtrusive profile and immersed himself back into the daily schedule of school life.
He pushed his hair back and shifted his mind away from his thoughts, as he looked around at his fellow Slytherin's now in the common room. He had totally lost track of the conversation. What had they been talking about? Oh right, yes payback. An immature task for sure, but Draco felt a sudden need for it. He mulled over the possibilities quickly.
This coming Saturday, Gryffindor were playing Hufflepuff. It would be quite amusing if he could arrange some sort of disturbance or hinder the play somehow. After all in a trivial sense, he should get Potter back for beating him in the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match before Christmas. Dumbledore had of course revoked Potter's lifelong ban set by Umbridge, and the Gryffindor had come back to the Quidditch team. Secretly Draco was glad. There was no point playing Quidditch if it wasn't to play along side Potter and try and beat him. Playing the game with the absence of Potter held no thrill for Draco.
He suggested his idea out loud and was met by much approval.
' That Potter thinks he is so it!'
Draco sat back and heard various ideas go back and forth. Some of them sounded a bit violent and he calmly interjected that they couldn't do anything so obvious like getting one of Gryffindor team members killed. Something a little less aggressive perhaps. They finally settled on a plan and Draco casually offered to be the one to carry it out.
He finally got his opportunity on Thursday night. The Gryffindor team had just been practising, and all but one lone figure did not go into the changing rooms - Potter.
Draco stay hid under the bleacher shadows, as Potter swooped and dived after an imaginary Snitch. Good, Draco thought. The longer the boy zoomed around outside, the more likely the changing rooms would be empty by the time he went in. Draco just needed a minute alone with Potter's broom, providing of course that Potter did not go to the broom-shed first.
He watched as the other Gryffindor team members eventually left the small building, and made their way through the grounds. The two carrot heads waved at the Seeker, but thankfully walked off with the rest. Potter was now completely alone.
Forty minutes passed and Draco ran his hand impatiently through his hair. It was freezing cold and his breath was misting before him, as his teeth chattered. Sodding Potter was still looping and gliding through the air. Didn't the prat feel the cold? It's January for God's sake! Winter months? Hello? Draco swore under his breath and walked around to relieve the stiffness from his body.
Finally he saw Potter land gracefully on the grass and make his way to the showers - with his broom. Draco stayed where he was for a minute and then quietly followed the Gryffindor into the changing rooms.
He peeked his head in cautiously and then stood just inside the entrance. The main corridor was dark and he could see the beam of light from the shower stalls on the shadowed floor tiles. He walked soundlessly towards the lockers. There was Potter's Firebolt leaning against the bench. He smiled and reached out to grasp it, when he heard the sound of a shower being turned on. His hand froze in action and he looked towards the lit passage that led to the showering area. There was definitely no one around.
He stood still for a moment, carefully considering his next move. Potter was showering….
Knowing Potter, he was probably very hygienic. He just looked like he might be, even with that hair. And that kind of deep cleansing had to take a few minutes in the shower for sure. Draco twitched suddenly as a morbid curiosity overtook him. It wouldn't hurt, would it?
Just
To
Take
A
Quick
Peep…….
Just have a quick look. He felt a strange pull, pit inside his stomach. Actually this might be worth doing. He may see that Potter in fact had a vile and hideous body. And he could get over this strange fascination he had developed with Potter's face. Yes, he resolved. That would be the most logical thing to do, given the circumstances. See if Potter had a disgusting body and use that as precious knowledge for later abuse. Blackmail always came in handy.
Draco carefully tip toed down the passage and ducked his head a fraction around the side.
There he was. About half way down the white tiled area. With his back to the partition, that Draco stood behind. Draco knew he couldn't be seen from here. He was being such a pervert. Appalling behaviour, he scolded himself, but his eyes, nonetheless, strayed.
His gaze ran slowly over the green-eyed Gryffindor's body and his breath hitched in his throat, as his mouth went dry. He had never seen anything as erotic and arousing as the sight that befell him that very moment. Eewwww – crap, what the hell was he thinking?
Potter's smooth honeyed skin glistened under the fine rain of water. His back rippled as he washed himself, and the soapsuds slipped as white, bubbled froth, down the contours of his body. Draco's eyes fell to a narrow waist and ……Draco gulped as he feasted his eyes on the raven-haired boy's bottom.
I'm - sick…Draco thought but that is the cutest, finest bottom I've ever seen. This isn't happening, he told himself. I am not seriously doing this.
Draco felt his cheeks grow warm, as he took in the pair of legs that Potter stepped back on and began to wash his hair. Adolescence had done a fine job on Potter and he had none of that I'm-growing-faster-than-my weight thing going on now. At sixteen years of age, his body had caught up quite nicely with his growth spurt, though he still retained a slim frame. Not like that lanky, too – tall, red-haired beanpole, Draco thought spitefully.
He shook his head and carried on watching. The air around the black haired boy was steamy, and Draco could almost feel the waves of heat from the shower drift towards him. He stood transfixed, not quite feeling the small crick he was getting in his neck. Turn around, he willed Potter. Just a quick look and I'll leave, he promised himself. And turn around he did …
Draco's mouth fell open. Potter's eyes were closed as he washed the last of the suds from his hair. His neck tilted back as the water cascaded over his face and down his chest. He had a beautifully, lightly toned torso, with a taut flat belly. Draco felt light headed, he wasn't sure if it was from the sudden heat that engulfed him, or the dizzying effect of watching Potter shower. Draco's eyes widened and he forgot to breath, momentarily stunned as his eyes fell lower…
Oh my god he was…….Draco thought astonished. Geez, Potter was hiding that body under his robes all this time?
He had a body of a young Greek god for craps sake! Like those Muggle statues! Damn! No imperfections there!! Where and how did Potter get it from? Draco considered, mystified. So much for getting over his fascination. Now he had delightful images of Potter naked!
I'm gay, he thought horrified. I must be. Or you know, he mused; I'm just appreciating the human body in its original form. Urrggh this is Potter!!! He can't be nice looking with a nice body, it didn't fit. It wasn't allowed. I hate him.
Draco suddenly felt an irrational pang of jealously strike through him. I'm not a pervert, those other Gryffindor's were, they were the perverts; they got to see Potter naked all the time. His thoughts were thankfully interrupted by the sound of the Gryffindor turning off the taps.
Draco spun quickly on his heels and speedily stepped down the passage. He had reached the lockers when his heel skid and he slipped and fell face down on the tiles with an OOMPH!
' Who's there? 'Potter's voice reverberated across the tiled walls as he came closer.
Suddenly the room lit up with a bright light, illuminating everything.
SHIT! Draco quickly reached for his wand and saw it laying a few feet away.
He was still in a heap, as he tried to get up quickly when Potter came up behind him.
'Malfoy?' the green-eyed boy looked down in startled bewilderment. ' What the HELL are you doing here?'
Draco gingerly picked himself up off the floor.
'Not admiring the décor I assure you…' he cleared his throat.
'Owww', he suddenly yelped, as he felt a pain shoot through his arm. His right
wrist was hurting badly. Crap, he had probably twisted it or something when he
NOT so gracefully landed on his face.
Potter's eyes narrowed, 'well?'
Draco looked the Gryffindor over. He was partly covered now; thank goodness……….but not covered enough….
With a white towel wrapped snugly around his waist, he still had droplets of water glistening on his shoulders and chest. Draco felt his pulse accelerate. Potter's bare eyes looked huge and so bloody green, as they gleamed and sparkled in the light. His jet-black hair was slicked back and Draco felt a maddening surge of passion, as he stood not two feet away from Potter. He felt so pissed off that his body was betraying him in such an unjust and unholy fashion.
Draco took in a gulp of air, which filled his nostrils with the smell of the freshly showered boy. He suddenly realised that it was the same 'smell ' that always emanated from Potter. With awed horror it dawned on him that whenever Potter walked past, Draco breathed in his scent. It was a warm, sweet, clean smell. Comforting, like walking into a shop that sold candies and chocolates and soft marshmallows. Like a childhood memory that never quite went away. It was the indefinable smell that was Potter. Draco had always liked it whenever he caught a whiff. It was highly unsettling seeing the object of that pleasant smell now before him. This annoyingly; repulsive, attractive, detestable being in front of him.
Potter was now gazing at him with an irritated, inquisitive look and Draco quickly jolted out of his stupor and arranged his features in his typical sneer.
'I'm waiting,' Potter snapped, his voice hard.
'I came to perv on you,' Draco said in a casual voice, his eyes fixed on the Gryffindor's face.
'What?' the green-eyed boy looked at him distrustfully, shaking his head. 'Yeah right,' he passed off derisively. 'I'm going to ask you one more time. What -are -you -doing -here?'
Draco rolled his eyes. God, tell the boy the truth and he doesn't believe it.
Draco sighed.
' Ok,' he held his palms up. 'You got me,' he shook his head ruefully. ' I came into the changing rooms with an unsavoury plan of action. But alas, could not carry it out.'
His wrist was throbbing now and he held it lightly with his left hand.
' You're such an immature git!' the black haired boy spat out. ' Haven't you got over childish pranks yet?! Of course you would have to play low down and sneaky!'
Oh Potter if only you knew, exactly how low down and sneaky I have been…..
' What did you do?'
' I haven't,' Draco replied truthfully. 'I didn't do anything. I didn't get a chance to.'
' You liar!' Potter stepped closer.
Draco moved back, his arms lifting in reflex.
'Arghhh!' he cried out and sucked in his breath. He winced, and cradled his wrist protectively.
Potter halted and looked down,' have you hurt yourself?'
'No!' Draco snapped.
' Then why are you holding your wrist like that?' He gestured towards Draco's right arm.
'Am not!'
'Are too!' the raven-haired Gryffindor walked over to the bench and put on his glasses, before picking up his wand.
Draco was still standing rooted to the spot.
'What are you doing?' he asked Potter suspiciously.
'You're questioning me?' Potter looked at him incredulously. ' You've probably sprained it or something. Hold still,' he murmured.
He muttered something under his breath and conjured a sling around Draco's arm, supporting his right hand up to his elbow. He leaned over it and with a surprisingly gentle hand, adjusted the sling around Draco's neck. Draco dared not breathe, as he felt the faint tickle of Potter's fingers skim his neck. He was obviously suffering from lack-of-sexual-contact syndrome, because right now - Potter's fingers and breath just barely brushing against his skin, were making Draco want to purr like a sodding damn cat. Meow. He could actually feel the hair rise on the back of his neck. I hate you so much, this isn't fair.
' You should get to Madam Pomfrey.' Potter looked deep into his eyes for a split second. 'She'll heal that in a minute.'
Draco looked at him and quietly said, 'thanks,' without meaning to.
'Don't thank me!' Potter's voice rose an octave and his eyes flashed furiously.
'Ok,' Draco said simply.
' You're a right scumbag,' Harry finished softly.
Draco bit a small surprising smile back. 'All right, all right. I'm a scumbag. I'm going already.'
He bent down to retrieve his wand with his good hand and walked out.
His lips curved, as he came outside. That was pretty decent of Potter to do that. Typical because he was so virtuous with all his goodness, but all the same……… He was kind of sexy, IRRITATINGLY and hatefully sexy, nauseatingly and atrociously so.
He reached the Entrance Hall and ran lightly up to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey did indeed fix it in a jiffy.
A few minutes later, Draco made his way back down towards his common room, and Blaise pounced on him as soon as he came through.
' Well?' she asked her eyes sparkling. ' Did you do it?'
He gracefully fell into an armchair and stretched out his long legs.
'Not exactly. There were too many of them in there and I couldn't get it alone.' He shrugged. 'Then I slipped and twisted my wrist. Madam Pomfrey just healed it.'
'Awwww,' Blaise crooned,' you poor baby.'
Draco gave her a woeful look as she sat on the armrest next to him and bent down and smiled. 'Want me to kiss it better?'
Ick…. Draco patted her leg,' no it's ok.'
Crabbe smiled dimly,' we'll get him next time Draco.'
Draco nodded, ' yeah we will. Till next time.'