Draco's Crush

Chapter 2: What The Hell

I have writer's block and life's a bitch, Harry thought as he attempted to compose his Transfiguration homework. Why does everything I do suck? Why has my potion worn off? Where's Ron? Where's Hermione? I bet they're off snogging somewhere. That's demented.

How is this the life I signed up for?

Seamus sauntered into the common room. "What's up, Harry?"

"Nothing much. Just homework." Harry discarded his quill and took his glasses off, closing his eyes against the heels of his hands and squashing his glasses.

"Do you want to go practise some Quidditch?" he said spontaneously.

Seamus grinned like Valentine's day had come early. "Sure!"

Harry usually practised Quidditch with Ron, but Seamus was also on the Gryffindor team; as one of their beaters. Ron was still the keeper, but had demonstrated superior management skills and was now captain and strategist. Although Harry darkly doubted that Ron was playing Quidditch right now.

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The air whistled past his ears as he performed a dive across the pitch, the ground speeding forwards to meet him. Draco closed his hand around an imaginary snitch and tumbled off his broom to land on the soft grass.

He had taken flight again when loud voices carried across the pitch. Draco guided his broom back down to earth, and hid himself in the shadow of a large willow tree.

He recognised Potter and Finnigan. They were getting on well. Very well. The Slytherin's eyes narrowed. He was jealous.

And I have been reduced to hiding behind trees.

For half an hour he watched the two boys practise, studying their technique and especially the way that Potter flew. It was like there was no air or gravity to affect him, he moved with such ease. Even better than Draco, than Krum, than anyone. Draco breathed a sigh and sank to the ground.

I'm getting soft…

I must have him now.

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In the skies, the ebony haired Gryffindor was having the time of his life. He and Seamus practised as hard as they could until there was barely any room in Harry's brain left for thought, only space for doing.

Seamus's muscled form whooshed past Harry's face, causing him to blink in surprise and dart in another direction.

He wondered why Malfoy was hiding behind a tree. Does he think I didn't see him flying?

What was up with him saying I was pretty today? It must have been that potion.

Harry thought some more about seeing him fly earlier. It's amazing what Draco can do when he lets himself go, away from the eyes of spectating Quidditch fans. He looked even more attractive than usual. Not that Malfoy is attractive! Where's Seamus gone?

"Harry! I'm tired!" Seamus yelled. "What's say we call it a night?" Harry nodded, and landed like a ghost in the near darkness.

The seeker noticed him breathing heavily. He suggested that they walk over to the lake to cool down, .

They settled themselves on a bank, as Seamus carried on talking on about Quidditch matches they had played, and had yet to play, about how well the Ravenclaws were doing and that Malfoy was the only decent player on the Slytherin team.

Harry nodded and replied in appropriate places.

He was aware that their hands were inches apart. Finally he caught Seamus's eye, and leaned towards the sandy haired, laughing Irish boy. Seamus met him halfway, and suddenly they were kissing.

Just as suddenly, Seamus was on his feet, and running back towards that castle.

Harry raised his eyebrows after he had gone.

He sat morosely, looking out over the lake. That kiss had been over before it began. Harry supposed that he should be feeling the pangs of rejection right now, but all he could think was that he hoped Seamus didn't tell anyone he was gay. Because I am not gay!

Harry remembered the way he had admired Seamus's body when they were flying. Maybe I was envious? I really should start working out more… I DO NOT like Seamus as more than a friend.

Harry realised that of the two kisses he had ever had, one person had run away and the other had cried. Life really was a bitch.

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Draco had seen everything, having followed the couple. So Potter was in fact gay? Draco was in with a better chance.

He padded swiftly and silently across the field towards the lone figured sprawled on its back next to the lake.

"Malfoy!" Surprise.

"So it's back to Malfoy, now, Potter?" Draco sighed melodramatically.

"You know that was just the potion talking!" he said, immediately defensive. He jolted as Draco knelt down over him, so that they were nose to nose. "Nervous, Potter?"

Harry bristled. "For your information, I do not actually think you are sexy! So don't get any ideas!" He indignantly turned his burning face away and sat up.

Draco, on the other hand, lay down, stretching out in a way that he knew would embarrass Potter even more. "You never said I was sexy."

"Well, the potion made me think it, so I was just clearing it up with you."

"Oh. I'm sorry, but I really do think your hair is a mess," Draco said apologetically.

"And I think you're evil." Harry was glad to revert back to the usual insults he and Malfoy traded.

"Do you?"

"But you said I was pretty."

"Potion talking."

"You did not take the potion."

"Ah." There was an uncomfortable silence, in which Draco cursed himself. Maybe this plan wasn't such a good idea.

"I suppose you followed me from the pitch?" Harry accused. Draco crossed his arms.

"Excuse me?"

"You know what I mean."

"I was not hiding, if that's what you think," Draco insisted.

"Spying then," said Potter dismissively.

"Observing in secret," Draco corrected.

"So what did you 'observe'?"

"I observed that you just kissed Finnigan."

Potter grunted in reply, visibly flushing again. Draco laughed.

"Also I observed that he is not good enough for you," said Draco and surprised himself. The Gryffindor's eyes widened in shock.

"And you think that you are?" he returned, moving his gaze from the still waters to intently study Draco's mouth.

Where did that come from? he wondered. Is he making a pass at me??? There was a pause, and then …

Harry stared straight into Draco's eyes, deep pure emerald on silver grey.

They were suspended like that for the briefest of moments and then all at once, (what the hell I say!) Draco became Harry's second kiss of the night.

No one flinched away.