A/N I think this will be part 7/10. We'll see how it goes.
Part VII: A Disarray of Strings
--Hermione's POV
I stand halfway up the stairs to the boy's dorm, a lump in my throat. Harry's acting strange. He doesn't usually get so worked up about these things.
"Harry?" But my voice is hardly a whisper, difficult for even me to hear.
The sounds of rummaging and cursing erupt for a moment from the room and I take a step closer.
"Harry?" No louder this time. Something tells me that this isn't right…
Suddenly, something brushes past me - something invisible. I watch as the portrait opens just enough for one skinny boy to slip through.
"What are going to do?"
--Draco's POV
It only takes a minute to become one tangle of arms. A second to stumble into an empty classroom. Only a breath to fall to the ground.
I've never felt this way before. Like crying and laughing at the same time, like I might have died a little bit inside. It feels like a thousand years of sentimental bullshit are singing in my chest and I hate it and love it all at once. It hurts so badly that it feels good.
If this is what love feels like then I'm in for a lot of trouble.
--Ron's POV
Who knew? Who knew that one split second decision could land you the most beautiful boy in school? Who knew that a few kisses could heal and mend a crack in the heart? Who knew that finding someone so simply could make you look back at just an hour before and cringe at how absolutely pathetic you were?
The cool, pale skin that's exposed to me, the thin limbs that wrap themselves around me so eagerly are enough to convince me that Harry Potter is not the only person in the world, and that that thing my mother always says - that your first love is very rarely your last - is very much true.
Draco looks up at me with wide eyes, and I think my eyes must be pretty wide, too.
What do you say? What do you say to someone who just saved your entire life? Normally it might be "thank you", but how rude would that sound?
So I speak to him through kisses and touches, and when his eyelashes brush just barely against my cheek and my heart speeds up a little, I think I got the message across pretty well.
--Harry's POV
I wait patiently outside the Slytherin common room, and its not too long before my chance arises. Blaise Zabini walks steadily up to the statue and murmurs, "Chrysanthemum," and the door is revealed. I crawl through just behind him and follow him to the boy's dorm. Then it's waiting again as he pokes through his things, grabs a parchment and ink and then leaves.
I pull the hood of my invisibility cloak down for a moment to breathe, then move to the most extravagantly carved trunk in the room - the one that must have belonged to a Malfoy.
I feel in my stomach that this is wrong of me. How did I like it when I walked into my dorm room to find my things strewn across the floor? But I can't think of anyone who deserves to have his privacy breached more then Draco Malfoy.
I push the gold latch aside and open it. The things are perfectly neat - what else could be expected? Clothes pressed, letters from home, neat stack of expensive presents. It takes just a few moments to find what I'm looking for, just a bit of straightening things back into place. It's hard to sustain my glee.
If things work out just right, I'll never have to take it from that prick Malfoy again.
TBC
Part VII: A Disarray of Strings
--Hermione's POV
I stand halfway up the stairs to the boy's dorm, a lump in my throat. Harry's acting strange. He doesn't usually get so worked up about these things.
"Harry?" But my voice is hardly a whisper, difficult for even me to hear.
The sounds of rummaging and cursing erupt for a moment from the room and I take a step closer.
"Harry?" No louder this time. Something tells me that this isn't right…
Suddenly, something brushes past me - something invisible. I watch as the portrait opens just enough for one skinny boy to slip through.
"What are going to do?"
--Draco's POV
It only takes a minute to become one tangle of arms. A second to stumble into an empty classroom. Only a breath to fall to the ground.
I've never felt this way before. Like crying and laughing at the same time, like I might have died a little bit inside. It feels like a thousand years of sentimental bullshit are singing in my chest and I hate it and love it all at once. It hurts so badly that it feels good.
If this is what love feels like then I'm in for a lot of trouble.
--Ron's POV
Who knew? Who knew that one split second decision could land you the most beautiful boy in school? Who knew that a few kisses could heal and mend a crack in the heart? Who knew that finding someone so simply could make you look back at just an hour before and cringe at how absolutely pathetic you were?
The cool, pale skin that's exposed to me, the thin limbs that wrap themselves around me so eagerly are enough to convince me that Harry Potter is not the only person in the world, and that that thing my mother always says - that your first love is very rarely your last - is very much true.
Draco looks up at me with wide eyes, and I think my eyes must be pretty wide, too.
What do you say? What do you say to someone who just saved your entire life? Normally it might be "thank you", but how rude would that sound?
So I speak to him through kisses and touches, and when his eyelashes brush just barely against my cheek and my heart speeds up a little, I think I got the message across pretty well.
--Harry's POV
I wait patiently outside the Slytherin common room, and its not too long before my chance arises. Blaise Zabini walks steadily up to the statue and murmurs, "Chrysanthemum," and the door is revealed. I crawl through just behind him and follow him to the boy's dorm. Then it's waiting again as he pokes through his things, grabs a parchment and ink and then leaves.
I pull the hood of my invisibility cloak down for a moment to breathe, then move to the most extravagantly carved trunk in the room - the one that must have belonged to a Malfoy.
I feel in my stomach that this is wrong of me. How did I like it when I walked into my dorm room to find my things strewn across the floor? But I can't think of anyone who deserves to have his privacy breached more then Draco Malfoy.
I push the gold latch aside and open it. The things are perfectly neat - what else could be expected? Clothes pressed, letters from home, neat stack of expensive presents. It takes just a few moments to find what I'm looking for, just a bit of straightening things back into place. It's hard to sustain my glee.
If things work out just right, I'll never have to take it from that prick Malfoy again.
TBC