Greater the Scheme

Chapter 3: With A Touch Of Angst

Wow, this is really awkward.

He was the only one who felt that way.

Draco Malfoy sat in the big armchair across from a tall black haired man, Sirius Black, the king. There was something surreal about the whole thing. The room was beautifully decorated, with lots of class. Everybody was in a lively mood, escpecially the king who talked as if there was no tomorrow. The only two people in the room who aren't in such a chipper mood was Draco Malfoy, feeling awkward and out of place and Prince Harry whose facial expression said it all.

He hasn't felt this awkward since the day he took his (one and only, although he will never tell you) girlfriend to the prom and she started talking about her father sleeping with other women and her mother's drinking problem.

The blond felt that his childhood had something to do with his current awkwardness, but since his life story itself was a long and awkward story, Draco blamed what happened about 45 minutes ago.

In the limo.

Sitting beside the prince.

Gah.

About 45 minutes ago...

Silence is golden, but it's also boring. And it's making Draco feel nervous. Prince Harry sat beside him, staring out the window with his pokerface. He seemed so calm and peaceful that Draco had to wonder what was behind that poker-ness.

While he was trying to figure out what the Prince was thinking about, he kept getting distracted by the his large beautiful forest green eyes, creamy pale skin and full, luscious li- see?

Suddenly, the prince's head turned. Draco quickly turned his prying gaze away, embarressed that he was caught staring. Beside him, Draco felt the car seat cushion shift.

Afraid to see, but at the same time, so curious. Curiosity killed the cat. The blond gave into the temptation and turned his head, only to meet a smile. Not the smile that said, "Hi, let's be friends.", the smile clearly said, "Hi, let's fuck like bunnies."

Heat rose up his neck.

Now the Prince was on all fours, crawling towards him like a seductive cat. Fortunately or unfortunately, the passengers of the limo was well hidden from the driver by a doubled tinted glass. Draco has a suspician that it was also sound proof.

How convinient.

The Prince now seated himself on his lap. He was too close for comfort. Although, Draco thought this was very comfortable. Prince Harry smelled like strawberries and cream that reminded Draco of his favourite ice cream.

Hands trailed lower and lower, until it stopped at Draco's belt.

Prince Harry leaned in close, his lips only an inch away from Draco's. All the blond has to do was lean forward and let human libido take care of the rest.

All of a sudden, the car jolted and Fins's voice came from the front, "Sorry, that was a pothole."

Draco looked around. Prince Harry was still seated beside him, looking out the window with his pokerface, as if nothing has happened. Nothing involving sitting on my lap and full frontal snogging... Had he imagined it all?

Present time...

That little event gave Draco many reasons to be uncomfortable, but there was another event that contributed to his current awkwardness.

And it came in a form of a woman.

A beautiful woman.

10 minutes ago...

Fins pulled the car into a halt and opened the door for the Prince, while Draco let himself out, out of habit. The palace was grand. Although not fairytale grand, but grand in a 17th century mixed with 21st century kind of way.

Standing on the top of the stairs, was a vision of a goddess. The most gorgeous woman that Draco has ever seen. And he has cable.

"'Arry! So good to 'ave you back!" She quickly made her way down the stairs, far too gracefully in those shoes, and enveloped the Prince in a bone crushing hug. How the Prince not react to a beautiful woman, such as this one, hugging him, was a mystery to Draco.

Finally, pretty lady let Prince Harry go and turned to Draco, "Oh! You must be Draco Malfoy. Bon vous rencontrer. My name is Fleur Delacour." Draco wasn't much of a French speaker. She held her hand out and the blond shook it. It took him at least 10 more minutes to finally figure out, because of Ms. Delacour's French heritage, she has extended her hand thinking Draco would kiss it.

For now, she has to settle with the fact that Draco is too busy gawking at her breasts to think properly.

Beside Draco, Prince Harry let out a sigh.

10 minutes later...

Prince Harry stood up from his seat abrutly, over causing Draco to jump out of his skin. Then he began to walk toward the exit of the room.

Stunned, the king asked, "Where are you going?" To Draco surprise, Prince Harry didn't respond, like Draco thought he would. Sirius Black was, afterall, the king. But the young prince only stomped his way out of the room, leaving the others behind, staring.

He seems to be really good at this.

"I am so sorry." The king sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Suddenly, he appeared really old. "Harry is a good kid... He just misses his father."

Draco thought about his own father. A tall, blond, regal looking man that his mother slepted with, the man that used to ignore him, but bring him expensive looking trinkets when home (which is a rare thing), only to tell him that this little object is a pact of secrecy between men. Or in other words, don't tell your mother about the other women.

The only fond memory that Draco has of his father was when he was about 6 and his father took him to the zoo. Just the two of them, it was really nice.

It never happened again.

"I am sure it's just a phase." The blond said quietly.

King Sirius smiled sadly, "His father and I were very close friends. There were four of us, James, that's Harry's father, Remus and Peter. Only two of us today are alive to the world." He looked out the window, "Funny how fate throws you curves, eh?"

Draco didn't know what to say.

"Well, I'm sure you are very tired. Sorry to keep you like this," He turned to his attendant, Fleur, "Why don't you show Draco to his room so he can get freshen up for dinner." Fleur nodded and stood, followed by Draco, who almost knocked over the chair.

Fleur made her way through the complex maze of corridors through the palace as if it was her back yard, she seemed to have noticed Draco's confused gaze and smiled, "Don't worry, you will get use to it." They stopped in front a door, grandly decorated, Victorian style. She opened the door and Draco's jaw hit the floor.

It was a fucking Hilton hotel suite 10 times over.

Cushy sofa chairs, Victorian style tea table and plushy rug, then completed with a chandelier hanging gracefully from the ceiling. But the thing that caught Draco's attention was the bed. Correction, a very comfortable looking, four-poster walled bed, completely covered in red and gold in expensive silk and satin. Draco felt guilty just by looking at it.

Plus, his luggage was already there.

"I trust you will be comfortable 'ere." Fleur's voice snapped him out of his trance. Who wouldn't be comfortable in this? "If you need anything, just give me a ring." She headed for the door, "Oh, and by ze way, dinner is in 10 minutes, you might want to get freshen up." She left.

The blond peeked out the door to make sure Fleur has left before jumping on the bed with the gleefulness of a 5 year old.

I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, nor I ever will, so don't get your knickers in a twist.

Comments (Just some comments I have for the reviewers, other then thank you, of course): Yeah, there will be no Americanism in this story because I am Canadian (but there won't be any Canadianism in here either, because I am really Taiwanese, but there won't be any Taiwanism in here).

Draco does seems sort of like a loser, eh? Well, the change will be good for him, with that dose of arrogance everyday.

Like it? Hate it? Please do review.