Title: Hook, Line, and Sinker
Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: G to PG-13, depending on the chapter
Coupling: HP/DM slashy goodness
Updates: every Friday.
Summary: H/D *slash* Everyone loves the holidays because love blooms. Each chapter is a different holiday in which Harry and Draco find romance. Eleventh holiday: Friday the 13th!
A/N: I know this chapter is up 3 days late... I had a 9 page paper due in Population Friday, so I spent virtually the entire week (20+ hours) working on the sucker to get it done. :: grumbles:: Whose brilliant idea was it for me to go for a minor in Sociology, anyway? Moving on... I've been trying to post this chapter since Saturday, but it wouldn't let me. I dunno if ff.net isn't working, or if it's my comp. And since I just bought this comp 2 weeks ago, it had better be the site that's stupid. Anyway, I hope this chapter is up to par. I actually quite liked the way it turned out. Hope you guys do, too! Thanks to demonic angel for the holiday suggestion!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Holiday 11: Friday the 13th
Rated: PG-13
.
.
Harry Potter was not graceful. He stumbled when walking, veered off when he ran, and had little to no coordination. The only time he was swanlike in nature was when he was in the air, flying about on his beloved Firebolt.
So when, during an impromptu fly that morning, he had almost fallen off his broom twice and smashed into a goal ring, he knew something was wrong. Way wrong.
Sure enough, one glance at the calendar told him all he needed to know. Today was Friday the 13th.
He was not superstitious by any means. Never had been. Until now, that is. He didn't know what had happened to muck up his luck, but he wasn't about to go through the rest of the day without trying to fix whatever was affecting him.
Which was why he was currently in the boys' bathroom in Gryffindor tower, brewing a good luck potion. The majority of the ingredients he had in a potions kit that Hermione had bought him for Christmas the past year, explaining that he could use the practice if he wanted to become an Auror. The other ingredients he had fished around for outside.
Now in the last few steps, Harry added three tiny green four-leaf clovers and began stirring counterclockwise, thirteen strokes, counting each one aloud. "Eight, nine, ten..." His hand accidentally jerked and knocked over a jar of powdered beetle eyes. Reaching out, he deftly caught the jar just before it shattered on the ground, using speed that only a seeker possessed.
Unfortunately, he had kept stirring without counting. As he stirred one time past thirteen, a rumbling noise came from the cauldron in front of him. He started to back away, but it was no use. The contents of the cauldron exploded, namely all over him.
Harry cried out as the yellowish liquid covered him, burning his skin everywhere it touched. He watched in horror as the potion slowly was absorbed into his skin, leaning only a slightly tingling sensation. Uh oh, this was definitely not a good thing...
Looking around at the mess before him, Harry grabbed his wand and said, "Scourgify." As the bathroom became clean once again, Harry sighed in relief. It seemed his luck might not be so bad after all.
Leaving the bathroom, he tripped over the carpet and smashed headfirst into his bedpost, effectively knocking himself out.
.
.
"Do you think we should throw water on him?"
"No, someone just needs to give him a swift kick up the--"
"Seamus! Honestly!"
Groaning as the loud voices penetrated the blackness, Harry slowly opened his eyes to see his dorm mates and Hermione Granger leaning over him. He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, gripping his head as he did so.
"Oh, Harry, you're all right!" Hermione cried as she threw her arms around him in relief. "We were just about to take you to the infirmary."
"Yeah, Harry, what happened?" Ron Weasley asked curiously as he helped Harry stand up.
What *did* happen? He must have forgotten, what with his aching head and all. Then he caught sight of the cauldron that had rolled halfway under his bed when he fell, and it all came flooding back to him. Burying his face in his hands, he moaned, "Backfired good luck potion."
He uncovered his face just in time to see Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom backing away from him.
"Sorry, Harry, but I have enough bad luck of my own," Neville explained sheepishly as he dashed out of the boys' dorm.
"Uh, us too!" Seamus grabbed Dean's arm and fled after Neville.
Clucking her tongue in exasperation, Hermione sighed. "So much for their help." She turned to Ron, who was slowly but surely creating distance between Harry and himself. "Ronald Weasley!" she said sharply, causing the redhead to freeze.
"I was just getting my bag," he answered lamely, grabbing his school bag and joining them again.
Giving him a reproving glare, Hermione turned her attention back to Harry. "Well, we don't have time to make a potion to remedy this, so hopefully it'll just wear off by itself. Besides, how much harm could it cause?"
For being the smartest student at Hogwarts, Hermione really was dense. By the time they made it out of Gryffindor tower and to the main entrance hall, Harry had smacked into three walls, tumbled down a flight of stairs, and almost got sliced in half when a suit of armor's axe suddenly dislodged itself. As they walked into the Great Hall, Harry was sporting a bruise on his left eye and leaning heavily against Ron as he limped over to the Gryffindor table.
Everyone was staring at him. He couldn't blame them. He looked like he was used as someone's human punching bag. Felt like it, too.
Putting some ice cubes in a napkin, Hermione gently pressed the icepack to Harry's bruise, causing him to wince. "Maybe we should go and see Madam Pomfrey," she suggested.
Grabbing the icepack from her, Harry said vehemently, "I've already spent most of my schooling there! I don't want to go. Besides, she'll tell Professor Dumbledore."
Shaking his head in amusement, Ron replied, "He already knows, mate. He is Dumbledore, after all."
Reluctantly, Harry glanced up at the staff table. Sure enough, the headmaster was staring at him, a twinkle in his eyes. Looking away, Harry's gaze fell upon Professor Snape, who was also staring at him. Harry scowled and looked away. "You're right," he sighed. "But I still don't want to go to the infirmary. Maybe the potion will wear off, like Hermione said."
Oh, he couldn't have been more wrong.
Their first class that morning happened to be Charms with the Ravenclaws. Harry actually made it there in one piece, having been flanked by Ron and Hermione the entire way. The swelling on his eye had gone down some, but it was still visibly bruised, so once again everyone was staring at him. That only worsened his sullen mood.
For that week's lesson, Professor Flitwick had been teaching them to control water out of a container. Everything was going rather well for Harry. He was sending an arc of water back and forth between his hands. When Ron elbowed Harry's arm, though, the stream of water flew up and landed directly on Harry's head, soaking him straight through his clothes.
After class ended and Hermione had magically dried Harry's off, it was time for Care of Magical Creatures. Because of his recent bout of clumsiness, Harry opted not to go because he didn't want to accidentally hurt whatever creature Hagrid had them dealing with. Surprisingly, Hermione agreed that this was probably for the best. She told Harry to meet Ron and her after class was over.
So with a temporary luck spell cast by his friend, Harry managed to make it to the library without causing any bodily damage to himself or anyone else. When he set his bag down on an empty table, however, it fell over and knocked the contents of his bag all over the wooden surface with a clatter. That earned Harry a glare from Madam Pince, which he gave her a sheepish shrug before cleaning up the mess.
Sitting down with his back to the door, Harry laid his head down on the table. He really did have rotten luck. He didn't need a backfired spell to help his clumsiness along. Being a walking disaster was not exactly fun.
Now he knew what Neville felt like all the time.
With a sigh, Harry sat up, only to be startled by a pair of silver eyes staring at him from across the table. "Can I help you?" he asked the Slytherin coolly.
Draco Malfoy leaned back in his chair, continuing to stare at Harry, which the ravenhead found quite unnerving. He didn't say anything, only stared.
"Honestly, Malfoy. I'm not in a zoo exhibit."
"What?"
"Quit staring at me." It was weird enough having Draco Malfoy just staring at him like that, but his face being devoid of any malice was not exactly normal. Then again, a lot of things haven't been normal.
Harry couldn't remember the last time he and Draco had a row, it had been such a long time. He had actually gotten used to their daily spats. But for the past year, they really hadn't been fighting that much. Or at all, in fact.
He didn't at the time, but now Harry missed the blonde's ever constant presence. He had always chalked it up to having wittier comebacks, but that wasn't it.
He liked Draco. As in had a crush on him. His rival of so many years. If it wasn't so shocking, he would have found it comical.
But it made sense to him, in a weird and twisted sort of way. For starters, the blonde was gorgeous. Harry knew it, Draco knew it, the whole school knew it. It was not to be denied. But it went so much deeper than looks.
Harry had seen into Draco's soul. He knew what made Draco tick: what angered him, peeved him, made him happy. Sometimes he wondered if he knew Draco better than he knew his two best friends.
And in a way, he supposed he did. That saying about keeping your enemies closer than your friends? Well, it definitely applied here. Except Harry was hoping for some physical closeness too.
Which was what brought him back to reality. Draco had never answered, only kept right on staring. Growing frustrated, Harry blurted out, "Just say something!"
"Where did you get that bruise?" Draco asked after pausing a moment.
Of all the things he could have said... Harry really was in no mood to share his tale of stupidity. "It's none of your business," he snarled.
Draco was not affronted by Harry's rising temper. He did, however, take the hint. Standing, he began walking away. He threw one last glance over his shoulder, smirked, and then disappeared out of the library.
Harry was still staring at the door long after Draco left. That had most certainly been one of their most bizarre exchanges. But Harry didn't mind the bizarre.
In fact, sometimes he preferred it.
He sat there for a good half hour, letting his thoughts roam. Although each time they came back to the same topic. The Slytherin just had that effect on Harry, which posed no inconvenience to the Gryffindor.
With a sigh, he stood and made his way out of the library. He had successfully wasted enough time for Care of Magical Creatures to be over, and now it was time for Potions.
He met up with Ron and Hermione in the main hallway, and the trio began their trek down to the dungeons. The halls were only slightly crowded, as classes were about to start. The dungeons were never that crowded anyway because it was dark and damp, but mostly no one wanted to risk running into Snape.
"So, you haven't had any more accidents?" Hermione asked Harry as they rounded a corner.
Harry shook his head. "Not since Charms," he answered, not wanted to tell her about his klutz attack in the library.
"Well, at least the day is almost halfway over, mate," Ron said encouragingly, patting Harry on the back rather hard.
Catching himself, Harry turned to Ron and answered, "That's true." Not watching where he was going, he tripped on a loose stone and fell forward into someone's arms, locking lips with that person.
Regaining his balance, Harry pushed himself out of the person's arms and then gasped loudly.
Draco stood in front of him, not moving. He looked stunned. Not disgusted, not angry, just stunned.
"I'm sorry. I mean, I didn't--" Harry couldn't finish a coherent thought. He glanced around and saw that a large handful of students had witnessed the scene. They were whispering amongst themselves, pointing excitedly. Growing panicked, Harry raced down the hall, ignoring the cries of his friends.
Exchanging concerned looks, Ron and Hermione quickly followed. They knew of Harry's feelings for the Slytherin, so they could only imagine what was going through their friend's mind right now.
When they got to the Potions classroom, Harry was sitting in his seat, staring down at the table. He didn't look up, not even when Draco took his seat next to Harry. He did feel his face heating up in a flush, though.
Harry could feel those silver eyes gazing intently at him, but he didn't dare look up. That scene outside was just too embarrassing. Besides, he didn't want to see the sneer that would be aimed in his direction, or hear the inevitable teasing about his clumsy episode. So when Professor Snape walked in and started class at the moment, Harry was very much relieved.
Not even two minutes into the class, Snape took points from Harry for not paying attention, even though Harry was listening while still staring at the table. Harry didn't even acknowledge the loss. A few minutes later, their potions were started, and Snape took off more points from Harry for obscure reasons. When he saw that he was getting no reaction from the Gryffindor, Snape grew quite irritated and moved on to yell at Neville, who always cowered in his presence.
All that time, Draco was trying to catch Harry's eye, either intentionally or accidentally, but Harry never looked away from the table where he was chopping ingredients or the cauldron where he mixed them. "Potter," Draco said in a low tone, promptly being ignored. "Potter, we need to talk."
But Harry jumped up and practically ran off to get more ingredients.
Sighing in frustration, Draco pushed his hand through his platinum hair, disheveling it. But he didn't care. He really needed to talk to Harry.
Quietly slipping over to where Blaise Zabini was working, Draco pulled his fellow Slytherin aside. "So?"
"I overheard Finnigan say that Potter tried making a good luck potion this morning, and it backfired on him," Blaise divulged.
"Ahhh... That explains why he was more clumsy than usual."
Blaise watched as Draco's face contorted into a thoughtful expression as his brain worked furiously with this newfound information. He figured he was the only one that had ever seen Draco like that. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Draco smirked at his longtime friend. "For your sake, I hope not. I might just have to hex you."
Returning the smirk with one of his own, Blaise nodded in Harry's direction. "Go for it."
"Oh, I intend to."
.
.
After that excruciatingly long Potions class, Harry bolted out of there as fast as his legs could carry him. He ran all the way to the Great Hall for lunch, where he ignored anyone who was not one of his best friends. He was well aware that the entirety of Hogwarts was watching and talking about him and Draco. At that school, gossip traveled faster than a golden snitch. At least Harry was used to people whispering and pointing, go he wasn't much bothered by that.
But he still had a certain blonde to deal with...
.
.
It wasn't until after all classes were over for the day that Harry had his inevitable encounter with the Slytherin. He had managed to not hurt himself too much since lunch, but he could tell that this confrontation would most likely be painful.
Of course, it happened just outside of the Great Hall, so many students were milling around since it was officially the weekend.
"Hey Potter, we need to have a word," Draco's voice called out over the crowd, effectively causing Harry to stop in his departure with his friends.
He turned around slowly, met eyes with Ron and Hermione, and then walked over to where Draco was standing. As the blonde just stared at him yet again, Harry wrung his hands nervously. "Malfoy, I--"
"I know about your little... problem," Draco interrupted smoothly. "And I want to help."
"Oh, I can't believe this..." Harry groaned, turning around to walk away. The last thing he wanted was to be humiliated in front of a crowd yet again.
Before he could even take one step, he was whirled around. The next thing he knew, Draco's lips were on his. Harry opened his mouth in shock, only to find liquid being forced into his mouth from Draco's. Since Draco's lips were still clamped down firmly on his, Harry had no choice but to swallow. Then he pushed the blonde away, staring at him dazedly.
"Good luck potion," Draco answered the unasked question. "Figured you could use it." Then he smiled, a rarity for him. "Twice in one day. I know *my* luck is improving."
Harry only gaped at him, as did the rest of the spectators. It wasn't every day that the school's two most eligible students snogged in the halls--twice! And Malfoys were certainly not known for openly displaying positive feelings.
"So what do you say?" Draco continued, stepping closer to the ravenhead. "Want to make sure the potion was effective?"
Finally snapping out of his stupor, Harry grinned wickedly. He reached a hand up to the back of Draco's neck, pulling him into a lip-searing kiss that left the entire crowd breathless and fanning themselves.
Pulling away just enough to speak, Draco asked, "Verdict?"
Growling low in his throat, Harry said so that only Draco could hear, "I think we're both getting lucky tonight." His kiss washed away the look of surprise on Draco's face. "What do you know. I feel luckier already."
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I happen to be a huuuuuuuuge fan of Fridays the 13th! They are very lucky days for me. I usually go out of my way to walk under ladders, cross paths with black cats (which isn't hard since I own one), open umbrellas indoors, etc. Quite fun! But I've never had one that was quite as fun as in this chapter... Too bad. I hope you guys enjoyed it, because I certainly enjoyed writing it! If the ending sounds familiar, it's because I'm borrowing an idea from Gia's fic, Nella Fantasia (if you haven't read it, check it out!)
Please review! Your thoughts mean the world to me, and I do so love reading them! Sorry I'm not answering to individual reviews, but I've got lots of work to do.
I also want to announce that for the next month, the chapters may be coming out a bit late. It's getting close to finals, and I not only have to worry about studying, but I also have a project due in Drug Use and Abuse in a few weeks, not to mention practicing for my Piano final. So I'll be a very busy little bee. And, of course, Christmas shopping and planning my birthday (which just so happens to fall on the last day of finals... lucky me). So please be patient if the chapters aren't posted on Fridays or possibly even Saturdays. I'll try my best to get them out on time, but I may not succeed.
Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: G to PG-13, depending on the chapter
Coupling: HP/DM slashy goodness
Updates: every Friday.
Summary: H/D *slash* Everyone loves the holidays because love blooms. Each chapter is a different holiday in which Harry and Draco find romance. Eleventh holiday: Friday the 13th!
A/N: I know this chapter is up 3 days late... I had a 9 page paper due in Population Friday, so I spent virtually the entire week (20+ hours) working on the sucker to get it done. :: grumbles:: Whose brilliant idea was it for me to go for a minor in Sociology, anyway? Moving on... I've been trying to post this chapter since Saturday, but it wouldn't let me. I dunno if ff.net isn't working, or if it's my comp. And since I just bought this comp 2 weeks ago, it had better be the site that's stupid. Anyway, I hope this chapter is up to par. I actually quite liked the way it turned out. Hope you guys do, too! Thanks to demonic angel for the holiday suggestion!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Holiday 11: Friday the 13th
Rated: PG-13
.
.
Harry Potter was not graceful. He stumbled when walking, veered off when he ran, and had little to no coordination. The only time he was swanlike in nature was when he was in the air, flying about on his beloved Firebolt.
So when, during an impromptu fly that morning, he had almost fallen off his broom twice and smashed into a goal ring, he knew something was wrong. Way wrong.
Sure enough, one glance at the calendar told him all he needed to know. Today was Friday the 13th.
He was not superstitious by any means. Never had been. Until now, that is. He didn't know what had happened to muck up his luck, but he wasn't about to go through the rest of the day without trying to fix whatever was affecting him.
Which was why he was currently in the boys' bathroom in Gryffindor tower, brewing a good luck potion. The majority of the ingredients he had in a potions kit that Hermione had bought him for Christmas the past year, explaining that he could use the practice if he wanted to become an Auror. The other ingredients he had fished around for outside.
Now in the last few steps, Harry added three tiny green four-leaf clovers and began stirring counterclockwise, thirteen strokes, counting each one aloud. "Eight, nine, ten..." His hand accidentally jerked and knocked over a jar of powdered beetle eyes. Reaching out, he deftly caught the jar just before it shattered on the ground, using speed that only a seeker possessed.
Unfortunately, he had kept stirring without counting. As he stirred one time past thirteen, a rumbling noise came from the cauldron in front of him. He started to back away, but it was no use. The contents of the cauldron exploded, namely all over him.
Harry cried out as the yellowish liquid covered him, burning his skin everywhere it touched. He watched in horror as the potion slowly was absorbed into his skin, leaning only a slightly tingling sensation. Uh oh, this was definitely not a good thing...
Looking around at the mess before him, Harry grabbed his wand and said, "Scourgify." As the bathroom became clean once again, Harry sighed in relief. It seemed his luck might not be so bad after all.
Leaving the bathroom, he tripped over the carpet and smashed headfirst into his bedpost, effectively knocking himself out.
.
.
"Do you think we should throw water on him?"
"No, someone just needs to give him a swift kick up the--"
"Seamus! Honestly!"
Groaning as the loud voices penetrated the blackness, Harry slowly opened his eyes to see his dorm mates and Hermione Granger leaning over him. He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, gripping his head as he did so.
"Oh, Harry, you're all right!" Hermione cried as she threw her arms around him in relief. "We were just about to take you to the infirmary."
"Yeah, Harry, what happened?" Ron Weasley asked curiously as he helped Harry stand up.
What *did* happen? He must have forgotten, what with his aching head and all. Then he caught sight of the cauldron that had rolled halfway under his bed when he fell, and it all came flooding back to him. Burying his face in his hands, he moaned, "Backfired good luck potion."
He uncovered his face just in time to see Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom backing away from him.
"Sorry, Harry, but I have enough bad luck of my own," Neville explained sheepishly as he dashed out of the boys' dorm.
"Uh, us too!" Seamus grabbed Dean's arm and fled after Neville.
Clucking her tongue in exasperation, Hermione sighed. "So much for their help." She turned to Ron, who was slowly but surely creating distance between Harry and himself. "Ronald Weasley!" she said sharply, causing the redhead to freeze.
"I was just getting my bag," he answered lamely, grabbing his school bag and joining them again.
Giving him a reproving glare, Hermione turned her attention back to Harry. "Well, we don't have time to make a potion to remedy this, so hopefully it'll just wear off by itself. Besides, how much harm could it cause?"
For being the smartest student at Hogwarts, Hermione really was dense. By the time they made it out of Gryffindor tower and to the main entrance hall, Harry had smacked into three walls, tumbled down a flight of stairs, and almost got sliced in half when a suit of armor's axe suddenly dislodged itself. As they walked into the Great Hall, Harry was sporting a bruise on his left eye and leaning heavily against Ron as he limped over to the Gryffindor table.
Everyone was staring at him. He couldn't blame them. He looked like he was used as someone's human punching bag. Felt like it, too.
Putting some ice cubes in a napkin, Hermione gently pressed the icepack to Harry's bruise, causing him to wince. "Maybe we should go and see Madam Pomfrey," she suggested.
Grabbing the icepack from her, Harry said vehemently, "I've already spent most of my schooling there! I don't want to go. Besides, she'll tell Professor Dumbledore."
Shaking his head in amusement, Ron replied, "He already knows, mate. He is Dumbledore, after all."
Reluctantly, Harry glanced up at the staff table. Sure enough, the headmaster was staring at him, a twinkle in his eyes. Looking away, Harry's gaze fell upon Professor Snape, who was also staring at him. Harry scowled and looked away. "You're right," he sighed. "But I still don't want to go to the infirmary. Maybe the potion will wear off, like Hermione said."
Oh, he couldn't have been more wrong.
Their first class that morning happened to be Charms with the Ravenclaws. Harry actually made it there in one piece, having been flanked by Ron and Hermione the entire way. The swelling on his eye had gone down some, but it was still visibly bruised, so once again everyone was staring at him. That only worsened his sullen mood.
For that week's lesson, Professor Flitwick had been teaching them to control water out of a container. Everything was going rather well for Harry. He was sending an arc of water back and forth between his hands. When Ron elbowed Harry's arm, though, the stream of water flew up and landed directly on Harry's head, soaking him straight through his clothes.
After class ended and Hermione had magically dried Harry's off, it was time for Care of Magical Creatures. Because of his recent bout of clumsiness, Harry opted not to go because he didn't want to accidentally hurt whatever creature Hagrid had them dealing with. Surprisingly, Hermione agreed that this was probably for the best. She told Harry to meet Ron and her after class was over.
So with a temporary luck spell cast by his friend, Harry managed to make it to the library without causing any bodily damage to himself or anyone else. When he set his bag down on an empty table, however, it fell over and knocked the contents of his bag all over the wooden surface with a clatter. That earned Harry a glare from Madam Pince, which he gave her a sheepish shrug before cleaning up the mess.
Sitting down with his back to the door, Harry laid his head down on the table. He really did have rotten luck. He didn't need a backfired spell to help his clumsiness along. Being a walking disaster was not exactly fun.
Now he knew what Neville felt like all the time.
With a sigh, Harry sat up, only to be startled by a pair of silver eyes staring at him from across the table. "Can I help you?" he asked the Slytherin coolly.
Draco Malfoy leaned back in his chair, continuing to stare at Harry, which the ravenhead found quite unnerving. He didn't say anything, only stared.
"Honestly, Malfoy. I'm not in a zoo exhibit."
"What?"
"Quit staring at me." It was weird enough having Draco Malfoy just staring at him like that, but his face being devoid of any malice was not exactly normal. Then again, a lot of things haven't been normal.
Harry couldn't remember the last time he and Draco had a row, it had been such a long time. He had actually gotten used to their daily spats. But for the past year, they really hadn't been fighting that much. Or at all, in fact.
He didn't at the time, but now Harry missed the blonde's ever constant presence. He had always chalked it up to having wittier comebacks, but that wasn't it.
He liked Draco. As in had a crush on him. His rival of so many years. If it wasn't so shocking, he would have found it comical.
But it made sense to him, in a weird and twisted sort of way. For starters, the blonde was gorgeous. Harry knew it, Draco knew it, the whole school knew it. It was not to be denied. But it went so much deeper than looks.
Harry had seen into Draco's soul. He knew what made Draco tick: what angered him, peeved him, made him happy. Sometimes he wondered if he knew Draco better than he knew his two best friends.
And in a way, he supposed he did. That saying about keeping your enemies closer than your friends? Well, it definitely applied here. Except Harry was hoping for some physical closeness too.
Which was what brought him back to reality. Draco had never answered, only kept right on staring. Growing frustrated, Harry blurted out, "Just say something!"
"Where did you get that bruise?" Draco asked after pausing a moment.
Of all the things he could have said... Harry really was in no mood to share his tale of stupidity. "It's none of your business," he snarled.
Draco was not affronted by Harry's rising temper. He did, however, take the hint. Standing, he began walking away. He threw one last glance over his shoulder, smirked, and then disappeared out of the library.
Harry was still staring at the door long after Draco left. That had most certainly been one of their most bizarre exchanges. But Harry didn't mind the bizarre.
In fact, sometimes he preferred it.
He sat there for a good half hour, letting his thoughts roam. Although each time they came back to the same topic. The Slytherin just had that effect on Harry, which posed no inconvenience to the Gryffindor.
With a sigh, he stood and made his way out of the library. He had successfully wasted enough time for Care of Magical Creatures to be over, and now it was time for Potions.
He met up with Ron and Hermione in the main hallway, and the trio began their trek down to the dungeons. The halls were only slightly crowded, as classes were about to start. The dungeons were never that crowded anyway because it was dark and damp, but mostly no one wanted to risk running into Snape.
"So, you haven't had any more accidents?" Hermione asked Harry as they rounded a corner.
Harry shook his head. "Not since Charms," he answered, not wanted to tell her about his klutz attack in the library.
"Well, at least the day is almost halfway over, mate," Ron said encouragingly, patting Harry on the back rather hard.
Catching himself, Harry turned to Ron and answered, "That's true." Not watching where he was going, he tripped on a loose stone and fell forward into someone's arms, locking lips with that person.
Regaining his balance, Harry pushed himself out of the person's arms and then gasped loudly.
Draco stood in front of him, not moving. He looked stunned. Not disgusted, not angry, just stunned.
"I'm sorry. I mean, I didn't--" Harry couldn't finish a coherent thought. He glanced around and saw that a large handful of students had witnessed the scene. They were whispering amongst themselves, pointing excitedly. Growing panicked, Harry raced down the hall, ignoring the cries of his friends.
Exchanging concerned looks, Ron and Hermione quickly followed. They knew of Harry's feelings for the Slytherin, so they could only imagine what was going through their friend's mind right now.
When they got to the Potions classroom, Harry was sitting in his seat, staring down at the table. He didn't look up, not even when Draco took his seat next to Harry. He did feel his face heating up in a flush, though.
Harry could feel those silver eyes gazing intently at him, but he didn't dare look up. That scene outside was just too embarrassing. Besides, he didn't want to see the sneer that would be aimed in his direction, or hear the inevitable teasing about his clumsy episode. So when Professor Snape walked in and started class at the moment, Harry was very much relieved.
Not even two minutes into the class, Snape took points from Harry for not paying attention, even though Harry was listening while still staring at the table. Harry didn't even acknowledge the loss. A few minutes later, their potions were started, and Snape took off more points from Harry for obscure reasons. When he saw that he was getting no reaction from the Gryffindor, Snape grew quite irritated and moved on to yell at Neville, who always cowered in his presence.
All that time, Draco was trying to catch Harry's eye, either intentionally or accidentally, but Harry never looked away from the table where he was chopping ingredients or the cauldron where he mixed them. "Potter," Draco said in a low tone, promptly being ignored. "Potter, we need to talk."
But Harry jumped up and practically ran off to get more ingredients.
Sighing in frustration, Draco pushed his hand through his platinum hair, disheveling it. But he didn't care. He really needed to talk to Harry.
Quietly slipping over to where Blaise Zabini was working, Draco pulled his fellow Slytherin aside. "So?"
"I overheard Finnigan say that Potter tried making a good luck potion this morning, and it backfired on him," Blaise divulged.
"Ahhh... That explains why he was more clumsy than usual."
Blaise watched as Draco's face contorted into a thoughtful expression as his brain worked furiously with this newfound information. He figured he was the only one that had ever seen Draco like that. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Draco smirked at his longtime friend. "For your sake, I hope not. I might just have to hex you."
Returning the smirk with one of his own, Blaise nodded in Harry's direction. "Go for it."
"Oh, I intend to."
.
.
After that excruciatingly long Potions class, Harry bolted out of there as fast as his legs could carry him. He ran all the way to the Great Hall for lunch, where he ignored anyone who was not one of his best friends. He was well aware that the entirety of Hogwarts was watching and talking about him and Draco. At that school, gossip traveled faster than a golden snitch. At least Harry was used to people whispering and pointing, go he wasn't much bothered by that.
But he still had a certain blonde to deal with...
.
.
It wasn't until after all classes were over for the day that Harry had his inevitable encounter with the Slytherin. He had managed to not hurt himself too much since lunch, but he could tell that this confrontation would most likely be painful.
Of course, it happened just outside of the Great Hall, so many students were milling around since it was officially the weekend.
"Hey Potter, we need to have a word," Draco's voice called out over the crowd, effectively causing Harry to stop in his departure with his friends.
He turned around slowly, met eyes with Ron and Hermione, and then walked over to where Draco was standing. As the blonde just stared at him yet again, Harry wrung his hands nervously. "Malfoy, I--"
"I know about your little... problem," Draco interrupted smoothly. "And I want to help."
"Oh, I can't believe this..." Harry groaned, turning around to walk away. The last thing he wanted was to be humiliated in front of a crowd yet again.
Before he could even take one step, he was whirled around. The next thing he knew, Draco's lips were on his. Harry opened his mouth in shock, only to find liquid being forced into his mouth from Draco's. Since Draco's lips were still clamped down firmly on his, Harry had no choice but to swallow. Then he pushed the blonde away, staring at him dazedly.
"Good luck potion," Draco answered the unasked question. "Figured you could use it." Then he smiled, a rarity for him. "Twice in one day. I know *my* luck is improving."
Harry only gaped at him, as did the rest of the spectators. It wasn't every day that the school's two most eligible students snogged in the halls--twice! And Malfoys were certainly not known for openly displaying positive feelings.
"So what do you say?" Draco continued, stepping closer to the ravenhead. "Want to make sure the potion was effective?"
Finally snapping out of his stupor, Harry grinned wickedly. He reached a hand up to the back of Draco's neck, pulling him into a lip-searing kiss that left the entire crowd breathless and fanning themselves.
Pulling away just enough to speak, Draco asked, "Verdict?"
Growling low in his throat, Harry said so that only Draco could hear, "I think we're both getting lucky tonight." His kiss washed away the look of surprise on Draco's face. "What do you know. I feel luckier already."
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I happen to be a huuuuuuuuge fan of Fridays the 13th! They are very lucky days for me. I usually go out of my way to walk under ladders, cross paths with black cats (which isn't hard since I own one), open umbrellas indoors, etc. Quite fun! But I've never had one that was quite as fun as in this chapter... Too bad. I hope you guys enjoyed it, because I certainly enjoyed writing it! If the ending sounds familiar, it's because I'm borrowing an idea from Gia's fic, Nella Fantasia (if you haven't read it, check it out!)
Please review! Your thoughts mean the world to me, and I do so love reading them! Sorry I'm not answering to individual reviews, but I've got lots of work to do.
I also want to announce that for the next month, the chapters may be coming out a bit late. It's getting close to finals, and I not only have to worry about studying, but I also have a project due in Drug Use and Abuse in a few weeks, not to mention practicing for my Piano final. So I'll be a very busy little bee. And, of course, Christmas shopping and planning my birthday (which just so happens to fall on the last day of finals... lucky me). So please be patient if the chapters aren't posted on Fridays or possibly even Saturdays. I'll try my best to get them out on time, but I may not succeed.
