Mousetrap
By Clay
Chapter Two: The Morning After
PAIRINGS: Mainly Harry/Draco and Ron/Hermione, but there are some other random pairings thrown in for fun
RATING/WARNINGS: PG/slight spoilers for all books and… HETEROSEXUAL PAIRINGS! Oh my God! Mothers, shield your children's eyes! ^_^
SUMMARY: (which I forgot for the first chapter ^_^;;) An incident in potions causes Hermione to begin acting strangely. Soon everyone in Harry's world is affected... and he's next. We've got Hermione skipping class, Snape skinny dipping, and much, much more. (romance/humor)
Draco checked the clock for the third time in twenty minutes and gave a slight growl of indignation. Pansy was supposed to have met him right after her meeting with Professor Snape. By now she was nearly two hours overdue, and he was practically livid. It's not that he cared for the girl. She was from a pure wizarding family, and he'd probably end up marrying her one day, but that had nothing to do with his feelings. At best her found her annoying, though a welcome distraction from the bourgeois life of a student. She could be shagging half of Slytherin and he wouldn't care. That wasn't what bothered him.
What bothered him – what kept him waiting impatiently for two hours – was that he had been stood up. No one stood up a Malfoy! And certainly not a prissy little waste like Pansy Parkinson. So he'd sit and he'd wait until she walked through the door and find out exactly where she had been.
At exactly twenty seven past ten, Pansy came swaggering into the Slytherin common room, her long blond hair mussed and robes slightly askew. In short, looking thoroughly shagged.
There was still a good number of students hanging around at this hour, and Draco thought it best to avoid a scene, but, as usual, his anger got the best of him; he marched up to Pansy and took her roughly by the arm, grounding out in a harsh whisper, "Where have you been?"
Pansy looked at him, eyes glazed and yet still finding a way to look dignified. "I was with Professor Snape, not that it's any business of yours."
"Not my business!" Draco hissed, "You little liar, you reek of alcohol. You're drunk."
"So what if I am?" Pansy pulled away, sweeping past to find an empty seat by the fireplace. By now more than a few eyes were turned their way. Draco drew himself up, fighting his anger in an attempt to keep his pride intact.
With a cold look in her direction, he raised his voice for all to hear, "Fine, you little whore. Do what you like; it's no concern of mine. You're beneath me and it's a wonder I didn't see it earlier."
"Oh, Draco," Pansy purred, lifting herself up and crossing back to where he still stood. "Don't get your knickers in a twist." Ignorant of the laughter rippling around the room, she placed her arms around his neck and kissed Draco soundly.
Draco shoved her away, disgusted.
Slightly hurt, Pansy crossed her arms over her chest and met his eyes. "I'll have you know that I was with Professor Snape the entire time. He gave me the alcohol and we spent the better part of an hour sucking whiskey from each other's navels."
Draco's look of disgust deepened. "I don't believe you."
"Fine." Pansy shrugged and turned away. "Believe what you like, but I'm telling you the truth." She started off toward the girl's dormitory, but as she reached the door she turned back, a smug grin on her lips, "And by he's a better lay than you by far. We're through. Good night, Draco."
Draco stared after her, dumbfounded, as laughter spilled around him.
The next morning, try as he might, it was impossibly to wake Ron for breakfast. With a worried sigh Harry made his way to the Great Hall where he forced down a couple of poached eggs and a slice of heavily buttered toast. Something was definitely wrong. By the time he started for his first class, Herbology, neither Ron nor Hermione had yet appeared. Strangely enough, Professor Snape also seemed to have gone missing.
Soon enough, however, he was saved from delving into these matters further by a terrified Seamus. He literally ran into Harry as they crossed the lawn to greenhouse four.
"You don't think she meant it, do you? I mean, not Hermione. She was just playing with me, right?"
"Slow down! What are you talking about?" Completely exasperated and no less frightened, Seamus grabbed Harry by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. "Hermione! She wants to see me naked!"
"Oh," Harry had to laugh, "I'm sure that was just Ron's idea of a joke. Hermione's not the vengeful type."
But the sly wink she threw Seamus as Hermione and Ron entered Herbology a full ten minutes late had Harry worried all over again. Professor Sprout gave the pair a disapproving glare and began to lecture them all on the importance of being on time when Draco strolled into the room.
What with the sixth and seventh years specializing their education there were less students from each house in most classes. It was not uncommon for all four houses to be in a class together, with the exception of required courses such as Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic.
So it was that the entire school would know of the spectacle that stood before them by the end of second period.
Draco gazed around the room in a lazy manner, unaware that every eye was on him. His robes hung loose and open over his shoulder, revealing not the mandatory school uniform, but a tight white tee shirt and black jeans. His normally gelled beyond reason hair hung limply, framing his face and partially obscuring one half lidded silver eye. A delightful little smirk lit up his face as he spied an empty seat across from Harry, completely ignoring the chair that Crabbe and Goyle had managed to save for him.
"Morning, Potter," he said as he sat down, the smirk still on his lips.
Professor Sprout declared a detention for Hermione, Ron, and Draco before she continued the lesson, but Harry was finding it hard to concentrate. Nestled between Just Finch-Fletchley and a Hufflepuff girl Harry had never bothered to learn the name of, Draco seemed very much at ease. He kept smiling at Harry with only the barest hint of malice, continuously asking to use his clipper on the pretense that the ones before him were too dull to cut through the willow bark though Harry had yet to see him try.
Even Hermione and Ron seemed to have regained their senses and were constantly throwing Harry worried glances.
After class Harry hurried out, all of Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Neville, and Justin on his heels. Halfway back to the castle he spun and faced the group.
"What was all that about?"
Neville was worrying his lower lip, eyes on where Draco was sauntering back inside flanked by an equally flustered group of Slytherins. "I don't know, Harry, but I'd watch my back if I were you."
Justin nodded his approval, "Everyone knows he's out to get you since you put his father in Azkaban."
"What are you talking about?" All eyes flew to Hermione. She glared at Harry, hands on her hips, and Harry was inadvertently reminded of last night's precedings. He'd have to remember to bring that up.
But Ron was pushing forward, catching them each in turn with unbelieving eyes. "Are you all blind? It's so obvious that he wants you!"
"Wants…?" Harry blinked.
"Wants to fight him, you mean?" Seamus put in doubtfully.
"Wants to shag him, you nit!" Hermione raised her eyes to the sky, arms raised in disbelief. A heavy silence followed and then Harry burst into hysterics. A moment later he was joined by Seamus, Neville, and Justin, tears forming in his eyes as he choked out, "That's a good one, Hermione."
"I'm not joking!"
But as the laughter continued, Ron spoke up again, threading one arm around Hermione's waist as he came to her defense.
"She's serious, you guys. I can't believe you all didn't see it."
"Ron, Hermione, Malfoy hates me." Harry countered, not even bothering to try and stop his giggles. "If he's being nice, it's only to get me to lower my guard."
"I don't think so. I think he likes you far more than even he'd realized, and until now he'd been letting his jealousy get in the way."
"Jealousy?" Harry suddenly frowned, angry at the insinuation, "Jealous of the boy who lost his parents? Jealous of the boy who lived in a cupboard for the first eleven years of his life? Jealous of the boy who has to defeat Voldemort or die trying? I don't think so."
But Hermione was insistent. "No, of course not. But he's jealous that you're popular – not only among your own house, as he is, but in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff as well. He's jealous that you're better at quidditch than he is. He's jealous that you're powerful, and he's jealous that you're famous—"
"But I don't want to be!"
"I know, Harry, I know, but he doesn't." She reached a comforting hand out to lay on his arm. "In his eyes, you're everything he wishes he was. It's all so clear to me suddenly."
"All so clear?" Harry scoffed, "Are you telling me that shagging Ron has given you great insight into Draco Malfoy?"
"Maybe he's the jealous one," Justin whispered a little too loudly.
"I am NOT jealous!" Harry nearly screamed and then lowered his voice at the shocked expressions on his friends' faces. "I'm very happy that Ron and Hermione have finally gotten together."
"It sure took you long enough." Seamus smiled.
"But," Harry continued, "everything is just so… I mean, what's going on?"
"I think you need to calm down, Harry." Hermione concluded, taking Ron's hand. "Nothing is going on; you're just being paranoid. Let's go, Ron. We'll see you guys at lunch."
Harry just shook his head and then started as something hit him. He turned and called to Ron and Hermione's retreating forms, "Lunch? What about History of Magic?"
"Oh, we're skipping that." Ron shrugged over his shoulder. "Try and take notes for us."
Harry had his head buried in his hands when History of Magic began and Professor Binn's endless droning was the perfect background to think to. Hermione had not only been late to their first class, but was completely skipping their second. If that wasn't a sign that something was dreadfully wrong, then he didn't know what was.
A subtle breeze drifted across his left arm and Harry opened his eyes to see a note lying on his desk through the curtain of his fingers. 'Potter' was written on it in small, sweeping letters.
Harry looked up to see Draco Malfoy smiling at him from Ron's usual seat and felt his stomach drop. He'd forgotten about him.
"What is this?" He whispered, jabbing one finger in the direction of the folded parchment.
"Read it," Draco answered, never losing the ever-so-irritating smirk.
With a resigned groan, Harry unfolded the note and read the single line scrawled gracefully across it.
'We need to talk.'
'No, we don't.' Harry hastily wrote beneath it and slid the note back onto Draco's desk.
Draco sighed audibly as he read Harry's answer and then sat for a moment in contemplation, slim fingers toying with his quill before jotting down a reply.
Harry took the note from his outstretched hand.
'Where's Granger?'
"What?" Harry turned to Draco, thrown by the sudden change of topic.
"Is something wrong, Mister…" Professor Binns glanced down at his role book briefly and then gave up and met Harry's gaze.
"No, Professor. I'm sorry. Please continue."
All eyes were on him, and Harry could hear snickering from the Slytherin side of the room. Cheeks crimson, he deliberately crumpled the note and stuffed it into his pack. On second thought…. "Actually, Professor, I'm feeling very ill. May I go to the infirmary?"
"What?" Binns looked up, startled and obviously annoyed at the continued interruptions. "Oh, yes. Fine. Go ahead."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and scooped up his bag, hurrying out of the room. The air in the corridor seemed cool and fresh, or maybe it was just that he was away from Malfoy. Either way, Harry suddenly felt immensely relaxed. He hesitated at the corridor that led to Madame Pomfrey and then hurried past. Maybe he'd go talk to Hagrid. He was barely on the grounds when a familiar voice rang out behind him.
"Skipping class, Mister Potter?"
Harry stopped dead in his tracks.
"How many points can I take away from that?"
The click of boots against stone foretold Snape's approach but did not prepare Harry for the sight he met as he spun back toward the castle.
To start, Snape was smiling. Not smirking, not the humorless upturning of the mouth that he was all too used to, but an actual genuine smile. If Harry didn't know better, he'd swear that he'd had just gotten laid. As if this wasn't bad enough, Snape had forgone his robes all together in exchange for the muggle attire of a green turtleneck and khakis. He's never seen his teacher so… so human.
Snape was casually drifting forward, hands clasped behind his back. He stopped mere inches in front of Harry and leaned forward, whispering as if he were sharing a secret. "Though I'd gladly enjoy taking twenty points away from Griffindor for this indiscretion, it's hardly seems fair under the circumstances." His smile widened at Harry's curious stare. "I'm skipping class, too." With that Snape wheeled away, arms spread wide as he stepped into the sunlight. "It's such a glorious autumn day – far too fine to spend it holed away in the dungeon."
Harry gaped at Snape's back, "Professor… are you all right?"
But Snape either didn't hear him or just didn't care enough to answer. He ambled away from Harry, faced turned toward the sun.
"That was odd."
"You're telling me." Harry glanced over to Draco, who had somehow managed to come up beside him without making a sound. He growled, exasperated. "Malfoy, what are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, of course. I told Binns that your stench had made me nauseous and he let me go."
"Well, you can stop wasting your time because I have no intention of talking to you."
"Oh, stop being so stubborn," Draco hissed, "All I want is a nice, friendly chat."
Harry snorted. "Friendly, right. I don't think you have a nice bone in your body, Malfoy."
Draco met Harry's eyes, considering him a moment before responding, "Well, you wouldn't know, would you? You never gave me a chance."
"What are you talking about? You've had five years of chances."
Now it was Draco's turn to laugh. "Did you forget? Am I that unimportant to you? Well, of course when you're Harry-fucking-Potter—"
"Get to the point, Malfoy." Harry spat out. He was angry and confused and growing more uneasy by the second. Besides, he had more important things to worry about than Malfoy's whining.
Draco had closed in on Harry so that their noses were practically touching. "My point is that five years ago you refused my friendship. You humiliated me and made is very clear that we were not to be friends."
"I never—" Harry paused as the memory resurfaced: coming face to face with Malfoy on the train, insults thrown at his newfound friends and then… then he turned Draco away, practically ensuring that they'd be enemies from that point on. "Oh."
Draco was nodding, lips upturned in the slightest of smiles. "Yes. It was you who started this feud between us, not me."
"But you—"
But Draco was leaps and bounds ahead of him. "My dislike of Weasley has nothing to do with you and me. But none of that matters now. What matters is that I'm giving you a second chance, which is more than you'll get from most people."
If his mind weren't so plagued with guilt, Harry was sure he could have come up with a decent retort. As it was, he simply stared as Draco backed up a step and stuck out his hand.
"Let's start over. Hello, my name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."
Harry smiled bemusedly and took Draco's hand. "Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you."
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine. So, Potter, tell me about yourself."
Harry shook his head. "I'm not really in the mood for games, Malfoy."
But Draco was very serious as he replied, "I'm not joking."
"Look, Malfoy," Harry brushed past him to head back into the castle proper. The bell marking the end of second period sounded, and the muted sound of laughter and the clatter of footsteps reached his ears as student spilled into the corridors, eager for lunch. "Something strange is going on. People are behaving very oddly. Hermione is skipping class, Snape is … well, just wrong. And you…." He trailed off, turning around to give Draco another once over, "I don't even know where to start."
Draco suddenly growled, his cheeks flushed with anger. "Don't you dare turn me down again, Potter. I'm giving you a second chance against my better judgment. Don't think I'll make this offer again."
Harry watched Draco, noticing that the boy was trembling with rage. Either this really was a plot to get back at Harry gone horribly wrong or Draco really did want to be friends. Ignoring the students pouring into the hall, Harry approached Draco, his voice low. "I want to believe you, Malfoy, but it's hard to trust you after all you've done to me and my friends."
Draco was nodding, his trembling subsiding. "I understand."
"Look, if you really want to be friends, then show me. Prove to me that you mean it, but right now I have to go."
"Right."
Harry turned away, but stopped when Draco clamped a hand on his shoulder.
"One more thing, Potter."
Draco walked around to face him. He was standing far too close for comfort, a slight smile on his lips. Both hands came up to cradle Harry's cheeks as he leaned in, whispering, "I've wanted to do this for a long time."
Suddenly, Draco's lips were on his, hot and soft. Harry jerked back. He opened his mouth, fragrant curses on the tip of his tongue, but Draco dove forward again, his tongue sliding against Harry's, eyes fluttering closed as he drew Harry's body tight against his own.
It felt odd to be pressed up against the hard planes of another boy, but not entirely unpleasant. Harry's mind stalled before informing him that Draco wasn't a bad kisser. He allowed the kiss to linger a moment longer, reveling in the intensity and passion that his and Cho's kiss had lacked, his own eyes sliding shut before harsh reality kicked in.
With a gasp and a shove, Harry was staring down at Draco's form sprawled across the stone floor. Draco stared back, dazed and hurt.
"I suppose I should have expected that." In one smooth motion, Draco was on his feet, robes billowing behind him as he turned and swept from the hall. And Harry was left standing, alone, in the center of a dozen gaping Hogwarts students.
To be continued…
Author's notes: I was going to ramble on about how the word "retort" reminds me of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but then decided not to. Other than that, however, I don't think there's anything I really have to say. Um… didn't second period seem short? ^_^;; Ah well. Score one for convenient contrivances.
10/31/03
By Clay
Chapter Two: The Morning After
PAIRINGS: Mainly Harry/Draco and Ron/Hermione, but there are some other random pairings thrown in for fun
RATING/WARNINGS: PG/slight spoilers for all books and… HETEROSEXUAL PAIRINGS! Oh my God! Mothers, shield your children's eyes! ^_^
SUMMARY: (which I forgot for the first chapter ^_^;;) An incident in potions causes Hermione to begin acting strangely. Soon everyone in Harry's world is affected... and he's next. We've got Hermione skipping class, Snape skinny dipping, and much, much more. (romance/humor)
Draco checked the clock for the third time in twenty minutes and gave a slight growl of indignation. Pansy was supposed to have met him right after her meeting with Professor Snape. By now she was nearly two hours overdue, and he was practically livid. It's not that he cared for the girl. She was from a pure wizarding family, and he'd probably end up marrying her one day, but that had nothing to do with his feelings. At best her found her annoying, though a welcome distraction from the bourgeois life of a student. She could be shagging half of Slytherin and he wouldn't care. That wasn't what bothered him.
What bothered him – what kept him waiting impatiently for two hours – was that he had been stood up. No one stood up a Malfoy! And certainly not a prissy little waste like Pansy Parkinson. So he'd sit and he'd wait until she walked through the door and find out exactly where she had been.
At exactly twenty seven past ten, Pansy came swaggering into the Slytherin common room, her long blond hair mussed and robes slightly askew. In short, looking thoroughly shagged.
There was still a good number of students hanging around at this hour, and Draco thought it best to avoid a scene, but, as usual, his anger got the best of him; he marched up to Pansy and took her roughly by the arm, grounding out in a harsh whisper, "Where have you been?"
Pansy looked at him, eyes glazed and yet still finding a way to look dignified. "I was with Professor Snape, not that it's any business of yours."
"Not my business!" Draco hissed, "You little liar, you reek of alcohol. You're drunk."
"So what if I am?" Pansy pulled away, sweeping past to find an empty seat by the fireplace. By now more than a few eyes were turned their way. Draco drew himself up, fighting his anger in an attempt to keep his pride intact.
With a cold look in her direction, he raised his voice for all to hear, "Fine, you little whore. Do what you like; it's no concern of mine. You're beneath me and it's a wonder I didn't see it earlier."
"Oh, Draco," Pansy purred, lifting herself up and crossing back to where he still stood. "Don't get your knickers in a twist." Ignorant of the laughter rippling around the room, she placed her arms around his neck and kissed Draco soundly.
Draco shoved her away, disgusted.
Slightly hurt, Pansy crossed her arms over her chest and met his eyes. "I'll have you know that I was with Professor Snape the entire time. He gave me the alcohol and we spent the better part of an hour sucking whiskey from each other's navels."
Draco's look of disgust deepened. "I don't believe you."
"Fine." Pansy shrugged and turned away. "Believe what you like, but I'm telling you the truth." She started off toward the girl's dormitory, but as she reached the door she turned back, a smug grin on her lips, "And by he's a better lay than you by far. We're through. Good night, Draco."
Draco stared after her, dumbfounded, as laughter spilled around him.
The next morning, try as he might, it was impossibly to wake Ron for breakfast. With a worried sigh Harry made his way to the Great Hall where he forced down a couple of poached eggs and a slice of heavily buttered toast. Something was definitely wrong. By the time he started for his first class, Herbology, neither Ron nor Hermione had yet appeared. Strangely enough, Professor Snape also seemed to have gone missing.
Soon enough, however, he was saved from delving into these matters further by a terrified Seamus. He literally ran into Harry as they crossed the lawn to greenhouse four.
"You don't think she meant it, do you? I mean, not Hermione. She was just playing with me, right?"
"Slow down! What are you talking about?" Completely exasperated and no less frightened, Seamus grabbed Harry by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. "Hermione! She wants to see me naked!"
"Oh," Harry had to laugh, "I'm sure that was just Ron's idea of a joke. Hermione's not the vengeful type."
But the sly wink she threw Seamus as Hermione and Ron entered Herbology a full ten minutes late had Harry worried all over again. Professor Sprout gave the pair a disapproving glare and began to lecture them all on the importance of being on time when Draco strolled into the room.
What with the sixth and seventh years specializing their education there were less students from each house in most classes. It was not uncommon for all four houses to be in a class together, with the exception of required courses such as Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic.
So it was that the entire school would know of the spectacle that stood before them by the end of second period.
Draco gazed around the room in a lazy manner, unaware that every eye was on him. His robes hung loose and open over his shoulder, revealing not the mandatory school uniform, but a tight white tee shirt and black jeans. His normally gelled beyond reason hair hung limply, framing his face and partially obscuring one half lidded silver eye. A delightful little smirk lit up his face as he spied an empty seat across from Harry, completely ignoring the chair that Crabbe and Goyle had managed to save for him.
"Morning, Potter," he said as he sat down, the smirk still on his lips.
Professor Sprout declared a detention for Hermione, Ron, and Draco before she continued the lesson, but Harry was finding it hard to concentrate. Nestled between Just Finch-Fletchley and a Hufflepuff girl Harry had never bothered to learn the name of, Draco seemed very much at ease. He kept smiling at Harry with only the barest hint of malice, continuously asking to use his clipper on the pretense that the ones before him were too dull to cut through the willow bark though Harry had yet to see him try.
Even Hermione and Ron seemed to have regained their senses and were constantly throwing Harry worried glances.
After class Harry hurried out, all of Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Neville, and Justin on his heels. Halfway back to the castle he spun and faced the group.
"What was all that about?"
Neville was worrying his lower lip, eyes on where Draco was sauntering back inside flanked by an equally flustered group of Slytherins. "I don't know, Harry, but I'd watch my back if I were you."
Justin nodded his approval, "Everyone knows he's out to get you since you put his father in Azkaban."
"What are you talking about?" All eyes flew to Hermione. She glared at Harry, hands on her hips, and Harry was inadvertently reminded of last night's precedings. He'd have to remember to bring that up.
But Ron was pushing forward, catching them each in turn with unbelieving eyes. "Are you all blind? It's so obvious that he wants you!"
"Wants…?" Harry blinked.
"Wants to fight him, you mean?" Seamus put in doubtfully.
"Wants to shag him, you nit!" Hermione raised her eyes to the sky, arms raised in disbelief. A heavy silence followed and then Harry burst into hysterics. A moment later he was joined by Seamus, Neville, and Justin, tears forming in his eyes as he choked out, "That's a good one, Hermione."
"I'm not joking!"
But as the laughter continued, Ron spoke up again, threading one arm around Hermione's waist as he came to her defense.
"She's serious, you guys. I can't believe you all didn't see it."
"Ron, Hermione, Malfoy hates me." Harry countered, not even bothering to try and stop his giggles. "If he's being nice, it's only to get me to lower my guard."
"I don't think so. I think he likes you far more than even he'd realized, and until now he'd been letting his jealousy get in the way."
"Jealousy?" Harry suddenly frowned, angry at the insinuation, "Jealous of the boy who lost his parents? Jealous of the boy who lived in a cupboard for the first eleven years of his life? Jealous of the boy who has to defeat Voldemort or die trying? I don't think so."
But Hermione was insistent. "No, of course not. But he's jealous that you're popular – not only among your own house, as he is, but in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff as well. He's jealous that you're better at quidditch than he is. He's jealous that you're powerful, and he's jealous that you're famous—"
"But I don't want to be!"
"I know, Harry, I know, but he doesn't." She reached a comforting hand out to lay on his arm. "In his eyes, you're everything he wishes he was. It's all so clear to me suddenly."
"All so clear?" Harry scoffed, "Are you telling me that shagging Ron has given you great insight into Draco Malfoy?"
"Maybe he's the jealous one," Justin whispered a little too loudly.
"I am NOT jealous!" Harry nearly screamed and then lowered his voice at the shocked expressions on his friends' faces. "I'm very happy that Ron and Hermione have finally gotten together."
"It sure took you long enough." Seamus smiled.
"But," Harry continued, "everything is just so… I mean, what's going on?"
"I think you need to calm down, Harry." Hermione concluded, taking Ron's hand. "Nothing is going on; you're just being paranoid. Let's go, Ron. We'll see you guys at lunch."
Harry just shook his head and then started as something hit him. He turned and called to Ron and Hermione's retreating forms, "Lunch? What about History of Magic?"
"Oh, we're skipping that." Ron shrugged over his shoulder. "Try and take notes for us."
Harry had his head buried in his hands when History of Magic began and Professor Binn's endless droning was the perfect background to think to. Hermione had not only been late to their first class, but was completely skipping their second. If that wasn't a sign that something was dreadfully wrong, then he didn't know what was.
A subtle breeze drifted across his left arm and Harry opened his eyes to see a note lying on his desk through the curtain of his fingers. 'Potter' was written on it in small, sweeping letters.
Harry looked up to see Draco Malfoy smiling at him from Ron's usual seat and felt his stomach drop. He'd forgotten about him.
"What is this?" He whispered, jabbing one finger in the direction of the folded parchment.
"Read it," Draco answered, never losing the ever-so-irritating smirk.
With a resigned groan, Harry unfolded the note and read the single line scrawled gracefully across it.
'No, we don't.' Harry hastily wrote beneath it and slid the note back onto Draco's desk.
Draco sighed audibly as he read Harry's answer and then sat for a moment in contemplation, slim fingers toying with his quill before jotting down a reply.
Harry took the note from his outstretched hand.
"What?" Harry turned to Draco, thrown by the sudden change of topic.
"Is something wrong, Mister…" Professor Binns glanced down at his role book briefly and then gave up and met Harry's gaze.
"No, Professor. I'm sorry. Please continue."
All eyes were on him, and Harry could hear snickering from the Slytherin side of the room. Cheeks crimson, he deliberately crumpled the note and stuffed it into his pack. On second thought…. "Actually, Professor, I'm feeling very ill. May I go to the infirmary?"
"What?" Binns looked up, startled and obviously annoyed at the continued interruptions. "Oh, yes. Fine. Go ahead."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and scooped up his bag, hurrying out of the room. The air in the corridor seemed cool and fresh, or maybe it was just that he was away from Malfoy. Either way, Harry suddenly felt immensely relaxed. He hesitated at the corridor that led to Madame Pomfrey and then hurried past. Maybe he'd go talk to Hagrid. He was barely on the grounds when a familiar voice rang out behind him.
"Skipping class, Mister Potter?"
Harry stopped dead in his tracks.
"How many points can I take away from that?"
The click of boots against stone foretold Snape's approach but did not prepare Harry for the sight he met as he spun back toward the castle.
To start, Snape was smiling. Not smirking, not the humorless upturning of the mouth that he was all too used to, but an actual genuine smile. If Harry didn't know better, he'd swear that he'd had just gotten laid. As if this wasn't bad enough, Snape had forgone his robes all together in exchange for the muggle attire of a green turtleneck and khakis. He's never seen his teacher so… so human.
Snape was casually drifting forward, hands clasped behind his back. He stopped mere inches in front of Harry and leaned forward, whispering as if he were sharing a secret. "Though I'd gladly enjoy taking twenty points away from Griffindor for this indiscretion, it's hardly seems fair under the circumstances." His smile widened at Harry's curious stare. "I'm skipping class, too." With that Snape wheeled away, arms spread wide as he stepped into the sunlight. "It's such a glorious autumn day – far too fine to spend it holed away in the dungeon."
Harry gaped at Snape's back, "Professor… are you all right?"
But Snape either didn't hear him or just didn't care enough to answer. He ambled away from Harry, faced turned toward the sun.
"That was odd."
"You're telling me." Harry glanced over to Draco, who had somehow managed to come up beside him without making a sound. He growled, exasperated. "Malfoy, what are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, of course. I told Binns that your stench had made me nauseous and he let me go."
"Well, you can stop wasting your time because I have no intention of talking to you."
"Oh, stop being so stubborn," Draco hissed, "All I want is a nice, friendly chat."
Harry snorted. "Friendly, right. I don't think you have a nice bone in your body, Malfoy."
Draco met Harry's eyes, considering him a moment before responding, "Well, you wouldn't know, would you? You never gave me a chance."
"What are you talking about? You've had five years of chances."
Now it was Draco's turn to laugh. "Did you forget? Am I that unimportant to you? Well, of course when you're Harry-fucking-Potter—"
"Get to the point, Malfoy." Harry spat out. He was angry and confused and growing more uneasy by the second. Besides, he had more important things to worry about than Malfoy's whining.
Draco had closed in on Harry so that their noses were practically touching. "My point is that five years ago you refused my friendship. You humiliated me and made is very clear that we were not to be friends."
"I never—" Harry paused as the memory resurfaced: coming face to face with Malfoy on the train, insults thrown at his newfound friends and then… then he turned Draco away, practically ensuring that they'd be enemies from that point on. "Oh."
Draco was nodding, lips upturned in the slightest of smiles. "Yes. It was you who started this feud between us, not me."
"But you—"
But Draco was leaps and bounds ahead of him. "My dislike of Weasley has nothing to do with you and me. But none of that matters now. What matters is that I'm giving you a second chance, which is more than you'll get from most people."
If his mind weren't so plagued with guilt, Harry was sure he could have come up with a decent retort. As it was, he simply stared as Draco backed up a step and stuck out his hand.
"Let's start over. Hello, my name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."
Harry smiled bemusedly and took Draco's hand. "Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you."
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine. So, Potter, tell me about yourself."
Harry shook his head. "I'm not really in the mood for games, Malfoy."
But Draco was very serious as he replied, "I'm not joking."
"Look, Malfoy," Harry brushed past him to head back into the castle proper. The bell marking the end of second period sounded, and the muted sound of laughter and the clatter of footsteps reached his ears as student spilled into the corridors, eager for lunch. "Something strange is going on. People are behaving very oddly. Hermione is skipping class, Snape is … well, just wrong. And you…." He trailed off, turning around to give Draco another once over, "I don't even know where to start."
Draco suddenly growled, his cheeks flushed with anger. "Don't you dare turn me down again, Potter. I'm giving you a second chance against my better judgment. Don't think I'll make this offer again."
Harry watched Draco, noticing that the boy was trembling with rage. Either this really was a plot to get back at Harry gone horribly wrong or Draco really did want to be friends. Ignoring the students pouring into the hall, Harry approached Draco, his voice low. "I want to believe you, Malfoy, but it's hard to trust you after all you've done to me and my friends."
Draco was nodding, his trembling subsiding. "I understand."
"Look, if you really want to be friends, then show me. Prove to me that you mean it, but right now I have to go."
"Right."
Harry turned away, but stopped when Draco clamped a hand on his shoulder.
"One more thing, Potter."
Draco walked around to face him. He was standing far too close for comfort, a slight smile on his lips. Both hands came up to cradle Harry's cheeks as he leaned in, whispering, "I've wanted to do this for a long time."
Suddenly, Draco's lips were on his, hot and soft. Harry jerked back. He opened his mouth, fragrant curses on the tip of his tongue, but Draco dove forward again, his tongue sliding against Harry's, eyes fluttering closed as he drew Harry's body tight against his own.
It felt odd to be pressed up against the hard planes of another boy, but not entirely unpleasant. Harry's mind stalled before informing him that Draco wasn't a bad kisser. He allowed the kiss to linger a moment longer, reveling in the intensity and passion that his and Cho's kiss had lacked, his own eyes sliding shut before harsh reality kicked in.
With a gasp and a shove, Harry was staring down at Draco's form sprawled across the stone floor. Draco stared back, dazed and hurt.
"I suppose I should have expected that." In one smooth motion, Draco was on his feet, robes billowing behind him as he turned and swept from the hall. And Harry was left standing, alone, in the center of a dozen gaping Hogwarts students.
To be continued…
Author's notes: I was going to ramble on about how the word "retort" reminds me of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but then decided not to. Other than that, however, I don't think there's anything I really have to say. Um… didn't second period seem short? ^_^;; Ah well. Score one for convenient contrivances.
10/31/03