Chapter Three:
Draco cracked open his eyes. The early rays of the morning sun had filtered through his heavy velvet green drapes that surrounded his four poster bed. Exhaling deeply through his nose, he scrunched up his face as he lazily picked at the dirt that accumulated at his eyes during the night. Slowly, he arched his back upwards, forcing himself to stretch his body totally, the tip of his toes touching the board at the end of the bed. Allowing a yawn to escape, he scratched his ribs before he pulled himself out of the warm shelter of his plush blankets and sat up, allowing his legs to dangle of the edge of the bed. After a whole ten minutes of convincing himself that education was necessary for success and was the main reason why he had to get up, Draco summoned his clothes from his wardrobe while he padded to the shower, determined to remove the filth that had caked over his face and body.
As he got out of his steaming shower, he fumbled for a fluffy towel, and stepped out of the shower tray and onto the smooth bathroom floor that was enchanted to be warm at all times. To prevent his clothes from creasing, he pulled on his clothes meticulously and towelled dry his wet gleaming hair. Folding back his sleeves to prevent them from getting wet as he brushed his teeth, he caught a glimpse of his left wrist. Running a finger down the inside of the healed arm, he noted that Potter did not heal him properly and had left a faint trace of a scar on his arm. Tsking at Potter's poor healing skills, Draco busied himself with his teeth, and the decided that it was worth while being a prefect at Hogwarts with all the wonderful facilities.
Stepping back from the mirror, Draco admired his handy work. Of course it wasn't some art piece he was working on, but then again, a Malfoy's image was to be presented like a masterpiece. He stared at the polished surface of the mirror, pleased with what he saw. His platinum blond hair was gelled back in place, his tie was perfectly straight, his uniform was pressed and creaseless, his black shoes were gleaming, his face like a mask, his eyes carefully guarded that they represented chips of ice, his smirk etched artfully across his lips. Draco knew the image he gave the rest of the school screamed, 'Rich, Respected and Ravishing.' It was no wonder why most of the female population, and some males, of Hogwarts were dying to be in Pansy's shoes, to be the apple of Draco's eyes. If only they knew that it was all an act. There was a knock on the door.
'It must be Pansy.' Draco thought as he crossed his room to open the door. Sure enough, it was Pansy, waiting to "escort" Draco to the Great Hall, and enter it as if they had been together all night. One thing great about being a Slytherin prefect was that they did not sleep with the rest of the house and had their own private rooms. Something that Salazaar decided to give to his beloved pureblood prefects, of course the other Houses prefects did not know of this special privilege. But it made things a whole lot easier for Draco and Pansy. Draco stepped out of his room as they exchanged greetings of "Good Morning". Walking down the corridor that led straight to the Great Hall and enabled them to avoid interaction with the rest of the school (another gift from Salazaar), Draco and Pansy chatted animatedly about things one never finds a Slytherin talking about, like which was the most disgusting Bertie's Botts Every Flavoured Bean they came across (Mandrake Sweat).
"How's your arm? Feeling a lot better today I hope?" Pansy inquired with concern, indicating to Draco's arm. Draco nodded and pulled up his sleeve to show her the arm.
"Wow, I must say, Potter's quite good, not even a faintest hint of a scar." Pansy mused as she held Draco's arm close to her eyes, studying the arm thoroughly. Draco grunted gruffly as he pushed back the sleeve, covering the flawless skin of the arm.
"You don't have to be so touchy about it you know," Pansy said reproachfully, "Mind you; it was tough to act all angry with Potter as if he was the one who injured you when all I could think about was you bleeding yourself to death."
"Sorry."
"What was that Draco? I didn't hear you." Pansy said in a sing song voice, a grin on her face.
"I said I'm sorry!" Draco said, raising his voice a little, his cheeks flushed and thoroughly embarrassed. Pansy hummed softly, casting Draco an all knowing look that only served to irritate him more. As they approached the Great Hall, Draco started hissing instructions to Pansy.
"Now remember, girlfriend, madly in love with me. I'm marvellous."
Pansy felt a flicker of irritation, Draco was always obsessed with his image, "Just call me 'Darling'" she said as they stop just outside the doors of the Great Hall.
"How do I look?" Asked Draco, smoothing out his uniform.
"You're fine, absolutely gorgeous." Pansy said calmingly, picking a piece of lint off his shoulder.
"And me?"
"Stunning."
"Right, then let's knock them dead." Pansy said, earning a fleeting grin from Draco as they marched into the Great Hall, hand in hand.
As they entered the Great Hall, the activity of the student population, came to a standstill, all eyes following the pair to the Slytherin table, all except those of the Golden Trio. As that second passed, the student population seemed to have snapped out of its reverie as violent whispers blazed across the other houses' tables, no doubt talking about yesterday's accident. Draco sighed as he sat down; it was going to be a long day. People from his table were congratulating him for surviving the "ordeal" and praising him on how brave he was, he himself was saying things that only gave others the impression on what a cocky little snot he was. Blaise was at the other end of the table, holding his gaze with a raised eyebrow that looked as if he was thoroughly amused by the whole act. Shooting a death glare at Blaise, Draco gave a sidelong glance at the Gryffindor table, to see that the Mudblood looked absolutely furious and appalled, the Weasel was bent over the table, no doubt trying to complete some unfinished homework, the Golden Boy, seemed too interested with his porridge and did not seem to hear what the Mudblood was whispering into his ear while throwing dirty looks at the Weasel on regular intervals. If only life was that simple.
--
"I can't believe he has the cheek to waltz in here like he owns the place and ignore the fact that you were the one who saved his skin yesterday." Hissed Hermione, obviously outraged by Malfoy's ungratefulness. Harry looked up from his bowl of porridge to see Malfoy sit himself between Crabbe and Goyle.
"What did you expect Hermione? He's a Malfoy; poisonous toadstools don't change their spots." Ron said as though he wanted to fling the comment straight into Malfoy's face, as he looked up to catch Malfoy boasting on how he dodged the Tiggorn, he narrowed his eyes in disgust before he turned his attention back to his work. Hermione gave Ron a dirty look, pressing her lips into a thin line that could rival McGonagall's, well if he wasn't going to complete his homework; she certainly wasn't going to help him. As if on cue, Ron threw his quill angrily onto the table, splattering black ink everywhere. Cursing, he pointed his wand to the mess and muttered, "Scourgify", casting a hopeful glance at Hermione, hoping his pathetic look would melt her heart. Hermione rolled her eyes at his stupid attempts and turned her attention to Harry.
"Listen, Harry, aren't you going to do anything about Malfoy's ungrateful behaviour? Don't you think that you at least deserve a 'thank you' for saving him?" Hermione said, tapping Harry lightly on his shoulders to gain his attention. Harry finally tore his gaze away from Malfoy.
"'Mione," He said, evidently preoccupied and hadn't heard what Hermione had said, "Do you think you could help me later on? I need to go to the library during lunch break to research on Tiggorns, since I missed the whole lesson and I might need your expertise on the books." Hermione, who was still miffed by Harry's blatant ignorance to her question, softened upon hearing of visiting the library. Her eyes filled with tears as she clapped Harry on the shoulder, "Harry, I'm so proud of you, you're finally understanding the true importance of education."
"Ha ha. Very funny Hermione."
--
"Class dismissed."
Never in Harry's life, has he ever wanted to hear those two magical words. He viciously flung his things into his bag and stormed out of the dungeons, fuming mad. That had got to be the worst Potions lesson he had ever taken in his life. How the hell did he manage to land himself in the Advanced class for Potions? It was _Potions_, his worst subject right after Divination, and yet, somehow, he managed to score Outstanding for his OWLs. 'Those sick bastards of invigilators must have graded me out of sheer sadism.' Thought Harry, as he made for the library. First the three of them turned up late for class, but he was the only one to have points deducted. Then, he was partnered with Malfoy, who, when he wasn't sneering and throwing insults, ignored him like he was one of the pickled toads in jars. And somehow, the rhino beetles that they were suppose to add to concoct the potion kept jumping out of his cauldron, Harry knew Malfoy had something to do with it, but it was impossible as Malfoy would a need a wand but his wand was in his bag all along. To top it all, Snape punished him for "playing with his ingredients" by making him write a five foot long essay as to why rhino beetles were essential in the making of the Minotaur's Draught and its uses.
"Harry, wait for us!" Hermione yelled as she and Ron chased after him, Ron was still trying to cramp his things into his bag while he tried frantically to keep up. Harry slowed down and waited for his friends to catch up.
"Hermione, can you explain to me why am I still in Potions, and how the hell did I get into Advanced Potions?" Harry screeched, his eyes threatening to pop out. Hermione shrugged and said reassuringly, "Y'know Harry, you're really better than what you think you're. Honestly, don't think so low of yourself."
"Yeah mate, I mean think about it, I'm in Advanced Potions too, that's how lenient the invigilators were. At least we can say that we aren't too bad in our studies, being in all the good classes, plus, at least it's definite that we're all going to be Aurors." Ron said patting his back. Harry moaned, "I hope I'll survive the year just based on the mantra, at least you don't get picked on by him."
Ron patted his back sympathetically, that was something even he couldn't argue about. Suddenly, Harry let out a groan again, "Why don't you both head off to the library first? I left my Potions text in the dungeons, and I got to go and retrieve it."
Ron and Hermione nodded and went off in the direction of the library, while Harry turned and returned back to the dungeons. Entering the dungeons, he noticed that Snape was still there at the teacher's bench, apparently grading some second year's work.
"What do you want Potter? Most students don't come begging me to take away points from them." Snape said dryly as he stared at Harry with a raised eyebrow, his quill poised. Harry carefully averted his stare to avoid infuriating Snape as he headed to his bench to retrieve his forgotten book.
"Err; I had left this behind, Professor." He said, raising the book to show Snape the evidence. Snape responded with a flick of his head, returning to his pile of work, obviously dismissing Harry. Harry stood there for a minute, thinking over the real reason why he decided to return; did he really want to go ahead with it? After a minute of hesitancy, he decided to go ahead with his choice. He cleared his throat again to get Snape's attention. Snape looked up sharply; evidently surprised that Harry was still there.
"What is it this time Potter?"
Harry fidgeted, he didn't expect to be asked that soon, in fact, he was hoping for a bit of insult and dealing out of punishments before he had to ask Snape for the favour.
"Professor, I was wondering," Harry said, playing with the hem of his sleeve.
"Spit it out Potter, I haven't got all day to listen to your aimless babble."
"Do you think you could teach me occlumency?"
Snape was midway into insulting Harry again when he caught what Harry had said, and closed his mouth audibly. He eyed Harry suspiciously; it was obvious he was going through the possible ulterior motives on why Harry would want to take up such torture so willingly.
"Sit down Potter."
Harry obeyed, patiently sitting down on the nearest chair, fingering a bit of his robes as he bit on his lower lip, waiting in apprehension on what Snape would do next. Snape on the other hand, had his eyebrows knitted together. Should he just agree to get Potter out of his sight? He stared at the waiting boy; the clear lack of motive was unnerving.
"Give me one good reason Potter, why I would want to suffer the ordeal of having to teach you." Snape said, regaining his composure, leaning over his table to study the boy.
"Simply because Voldermort is back and I want to be on my guard against him, Professor." Harry said defiantly, as though stating the obvious. 'So, it's Black's death that is the real cause.' Thought Snape as he returned Harry's challenging stare.
"You may leave now, Potter." Snape said, as he returned to his pile of unmarked homework, indicating that the matter was close. Harry opened his mouth to demand an answer and shut it as he realised that Snape wasn't going to give him an answer without at least having to sleep over the matter. Nodding curtly, he turned and made his way to the library, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly off the dungeon walls.
--
Harry burst into the library, earning a disapproving sniff from Madam Pince, roving his eyes over the library; he caught the flaming hair of Ron, who towered over most of the students in his year. Ron, who was doing anything but studying noticed Harry and beckoned him over to join their table with a wave. Harry flashed him a grin as he crossed the library to join them, pulling up a chair and seating himself next to Hermione. Hermione, who was poring over a thick, dusty, ancient looking book, shoved a book that looked exactly the same under Harry's nose, telling him vaguely that it was the book he was looking for. Thanking her gratefully, he started to scan through the book quickly, searching for the piece of information that he was looking for. After an hour of flipping through the pages and tolerating Ron's ever increasing whines of the lack of food, Harry finally looked up from the book, a triumphant smile plastered on his face.
"Hermione!! I know why Malfoy's arm was bleeding in the first place!!" He said in an excited whisper, his eyes dancing fervently, as though he could barely contain his excitement.
"Ha! I knew this wasn't just about homework!!"
Hermione shot a death glare at Ron, which immediately caused the redhead to shut up, motioning for Harry to explain.
"You see, it says here, '. a wound caused by a Tiggorn is capable of reopening even after being healed if the victim had undergone severe physical damage by the Tiggorn. In such a case, the wound will reopen when exposed to the magical field that is cast by a Tiggorn, and will reopen even though it isn't the Tiggorn that inflicted the injury.'"
Hermione listened intently as realisation dawned upon her, her eyes widening in understanding, "This means Malfoy must have been hurt by a Tiggorn before."
"Serves him right, the stupid ungrateful git." Muttered Ron darkly, not feeling the least bit sorry for the Slytherin as Hermione turned to chide him.
"Very clever Mudblood. I'm flattered to find out that the three of you are part of my fan club." Malfoy said as he stepped out from behind a large book shelf.
--
Draco paused from his action of removing a book from the shelf. He swore he heard Potter's contained whisper somewhere in the library. Abandoning his reason for visiting the library, he darted between the shelves, determined to hear what Scarface had to say. Satisfied with his hearing range from the Golden Trio, he strained to catch what they were saying, his eyes widening as he caught snatches of their conversation. So, they had found out about his wound, he really had to hand it to them, first, for noticing the oddness of the whole incident yesterday, and second, for bothering to find out. A frown crossed his face as he heard the Weasel's insult; no one insulted a Malfoy and got away with it. He stepped out from behind the bookshelf, with the intention of making the Weasel pay.
"Very clever Mudblood. I'm flattered to find out that the three of you are part of my fan club."
It was amusing, to see the shock on the Mudblood's face, delightful, to see the Weasel tense in fury, but oddly, it was enrapturing, to see Potter just staring at him, his face devoid of all emotions, yet sensing the energy bursting out from those unnatural green eyes. Averting his gaze from Scarface, Draco turned his attention to Potter's loyal sidekicks, Granger being the first to recover, stood up, her face set, readying herself for the argument.
"Clearly Malfoy, you have no idea how to show gratitude, most people try not to insult their lifesaver when doing so."
"Mudblood, unlike you and pet Weasel, I have no intention of helping Scarface boost his career as hero of the disgraceful wizarding world." Draco said smoothly, staring at the shorter girl. The Weasel made an action to stand, as though he was going to strangle Draco but was held back by Potter.
"Bad Weasel! Sit! Sit, that's right, listen to Potter." Draco mocked, barely able to contain his laughter as the Weasel struggled in Potter's hold, only to stop when Granger shot him a look.
"What do you want Malfoy?" Potter asked, his face expressionless, but his hand was tensed, ready to reach for his wand if the situation called for it. Draco strode over, as if to intimidate Potter. Potter remained unmoved, tilting his head slightly, challenging Draco silently.
"Don't mess with me Potter, you won't like it." Draco warned, his grey eyes flashed dangerously, studying Potter's green eyes, that reflected the same energy, both challenging each other, they were so close, they were invading each other's personal space, each daring the other to pull away, Harry could feel Malfoy's breath on his cheeks, it was amazing how the both of them could stand the tension between them, Draco could sense the magic radiating off Potter, the intensity, the feeling of his own magic charging through him like tingling electric currents. A silent battle roaring in their heads. Then, Draco stepped back with a smirk, turned and left the silent library.
"Utter lunatic," Ron said, shaking his head at Malfoy's disappearing back into the darkened corridor, "What was that all about anyway?"
Harry shrugged, just as puzzled at Malfoy's odd behaviour. Hermione returned to her seat, a thoughtful look etched across her face, just now, she was positive she could feel the magic permeating off the two wizards; it was like continuous waves of magic rolling off the two of them. But that was impossible; both of them had to be capable of performing wandless magic, but one had to be really powerful to do so, as wandless magic was definitely beyond seventh year standard, and most mature wizards and witches were incapable of wandless magic. She had to look up that branch of magic, she thought, making a mental note of it. She was startled out of her train of thoughts when Harry flung down his quill, biting back a curse.
"What is it mate?"
"I forgot that I'm running low on Centaurs' Weed, we'll need that for next Potions right?" Nods of confirmation only caused Harry to groan.
"Great, I'll be right back; I need to buy some off Snape before he finds another reason to put me in detention." Harry said, as he reluctantly slid off his chair and made his way to the dungeons for the third time that day. Ron gave him a look of empathy, before Hermione told him to concentrate on his work.
--
Draco needed to think. A place without the rest of the student population screwing up his thinking. Which was why he was heading to the lake during mid-autumn, although he was fully aware that he might just freeze his brains out instead. As he approached the edge of the lake, he cast his bag to one side, and flopped down onto the grass. The scene in the library replaying in his head.
'Yep, Potter could definitely do wandless magic,' Thought Draco, remembering the feeling of magic rippling over him, little vibrations of electric currents, 'although I don't think he is aware of it.'
Then another thought struck Draco, was he really grateful for Potter saving his life? 'Anyone could have done it, is just that Potter had to do it.' Would he be grateful if anyone else had done it? 'Well it depends right? Had it been Pansy or Blaise, of course I would have been grateful. If it were anyone else then I'd have to keep my image first right?' Does that mean he is grateful for Potter, just unable to show it because of his image? 'How the hell am I suppose to know? Bloody hell, it's Harry-freaking- Potter. I don't need his charity.'
'Argh, forget it. Even if I'm grateful, it's not like I can go up and say, 'Hey Harry, thanks man, you're a real lifesaver.' A Malfoy should never be in need of help, and anyway, that sounds stupid.' Thought Draco, rubbing the back of his neck, losing himself in his thoughts.
--
The greatest gift one could give Harry this year for Christmas would be common sense. Right now, Harry was scourging around the floor of the Forbidden Forest, looking for his much needed Centaurs' Weed. He had gone to the dungeons to look for Snape, only to find the dungeons empty. Of course, it did not occur to him that he could look for Snape in the teachers' room if he was really desperate, nor did it occur to him that he could always ask Snape tomorrow, as his next Potions lesson would only be on Thursday. No, our Harry had to follow his Gryffindor impulse and make the trek to the Forbidden Forest. And now since he was there, he might as well look for the confounded Centaurs' Weed.
The scene at the library was going through his head again. Why didn't Malfoy want them to find out about him? 'Yes, ask the obvious, would you want anyone peeping into your private life?' Harry thought. What was he playing at just now? He still could feel Malfoy's breath on him, and that weird tingling sensation that washed over him. Harry was so caught up in his thoughts, that he was making so much noise, crashing through the forest, disrupting the silence. Harry was so caught up in his thoughts; he kicked a boulder by accident, only to find out in his horror that the boulder made a noise, and that on closer look, the boulder was BREATHING!!
'Oh, crap.'
Harry plunged his hand into his pocket, with the full intention of stunning the troll as it leapt to its feet, to find out in dismay, that he left his wand at the library.
"Great, just great." Muttered Harry, before he broke into a run, the enraged troll tearing after him.
Harry darted between the tall trees of the forest hoping to confuse and shake off the troll, but to no avail, the troll was smashing everything in its way, ploughing through the forest as though the tall trees were just fragile sticks. Harry could smell the putrid breath of the troll on the back of his neck. The troll roared, frustrated that Harry was dodging all its blows, making the extra effort to destroy the creature that awoke it from its sleep. Harry started to tire as the troll's blows became quicker and more reckless. He had to make it out of the Forest and into safety. He had to.
--
A roar erupted from the Forbidden Forest, knocking Draco out of his thoughts. Draco tensed up, should he run? He certainly did not want whatever was from the Forest to find him. Again, another roar. He could hear the crashing of trees. Whatever it was, it was getting nearer. Sudden realisation struck Draco, it was chasing something. Unable to take the suspense, Draco allowed his curiosity to get the better of him, he walked to the side of the Forbidden Forest which was near the lake, hoping he could see what was happening from where he stood.
Then from the Forest, a boy ran out into the open field of the school, assuming that he would be safe and that whatever was chasing him would not have the courage to follow him into the school, he stopped running.
Suddenly, two trees were ripped apart and Draco saw what was chasing the boy. A huge mountain troll erupted from the Forest and into the clearing; the monster was at least thirty feet tall and was an ugly sight. A mould of fat and leathery grey skin speckled with warts and pockets of pus, on two stubby legs was the closest description. It looked around the clearing for the boy, and spotted him, making a swipe for the boy.
'Holy shit! That boy is Potter!' Thought Draco, recognising the mop of raven hair.
Potter tried to dodge the troll, but the monster managed to catch Potter's leg, a sickening crack was heard. Potter collapsed onto the grass, unable to escape. The troll was advancing onto Potter, who did not make any attempt to run, in fact, it didn't look like Potter could run anywhere. Impulse took over as Draco ran up to the scene, attracting the troll's attention. Disturbed, the troll turned to face the new source of trouble, its dumb looking eyes focusing on Draco. Enraged at the second disturbance, which delayed it from having a decent meal, the troll raised its hand into the air, teetering there for a moment, before bringing it down.
Draco saw the blister-infested, wart-covered hand rushing down to him, a gust of wind so strong, it roared in his ears. So that's what death was like, rushing to you, so fast you didn't have time to stop it, or prevent it. But Draco didn't want to die, at least, not now. Not by the hand of a repulsive troll. Instinctively, Draco knew he had to stun the creature. Without time to reach for his wand, he yelled, "STUPEFY!!"
The troll's hand paused in midair, tottering for a brief second. The troll swayed its head stupidly, its mouth hung open loosely. Then, it let out a groan, as its eyes rolled upwards, and the troll fell backwards, causing the floor to shake, its head limp.
Draco let out the pent up air that had built up in him. Potter sat on the grass, unmoving. His face was pale, sweat was pouring down his face, his spectacles dangling dangerously at the tip of his nose. His teeth were gritted together, his ragged breath was so loud, Draco could hear it over the breathing of the massive troll. His face was contorted in pain and he was clutching his right ankle, the knuckles of his hands were white. Tentatively, Draco approached Potter, one look at Scarface; Draco knew Potter had broken his ankle.
"Stay still." Draco muttered silently as he kneeled down beside Potter. Potter shot him the look that said do I look like I am going any where? Preoccupied, Draco pulled off Potter's shoe, folding up his pants to reveal a swollen ankle, badly twisted at an odd angle. Lightly, he pressed his slender fingers against the broken bone, bit his lower lip in concentration, allowing his magic to flow through the tips of his fingers, his fingers let off a golden glow as he gently healed the broken ankle and twisted it into its proper position. Pleased with his work, Draco looked up, to see Potter staring at him with an incredulous look. Then realising what he had just done, Draco's eyes widened in horror, before he bolted, leaving Potter in the open field next to a stunned troll.
--
Author's note:
Finally managed to finish this chapter, it's longer than the other cos I decided this ought to be the explain all chapter, thanks to sakura and rowan for pointing out the mistake in the months. Erm.. it will be slash but only in the later chapters, so be patient. A big thank you to all the reviewers. Please review!!
Draco cracked open his eyes. The early rays of the morning sun had filtered through his heavy velvet green drapes that surrounded his four poster bed. Exhaling deeply through his nose, he scrunched up his face as he lazily picked at the dirt that accumulated at his eyes during the night. Slowly, he arched his back upwards, forcing himself to stretch his body totally, the tip of his toes touching the board at the end of the bed. Allowing a yawn to escape, he scratched his ribs before he pulled himself out of the warm shelter of his plush blankets and sat up, allowing his legs to dangle of the edge of the bed. After a whole ten minutes of convincing himself that education was necessary for success and was the main reason why he had to get up, Draco summoned his clothes from his wardrobe while he padded to the shower, determined to remove the filth that had caked over his face and body.
As he got out of his steaming shower, he fumbled for a fluffy towel, and stepped out of the shower tray and onto the smooth bathroom floor that was enchanted to be warm at all times. To prevent his clothes from creasing, he pulled on his clothes meticulously and towelled dry his wet gleaming hair. Folding back his sleeves to prevent them from getting wet as he brushed his teeth, he caught a glimpse of his left wrist. Running a finger down the inside of the healed arm, he noted that Potter did not heal him properly and had left a faint trace of a scar on his arm. Tsking at Potter's poor healing skills, Draco busied himself with his teeth, and the decided that it was worth while being a prefect at Hogwarts with all the wonderful facilities.
Stepping back from the mirror, Draco admired his handy work. Of course it wasn't some art piece he was working on, but then again, a Malfoy's image was to be presented like a masterpiece. He stared at the polished surface of the mirror, pleased with what he saw. His platinum blond hair was gelled back in place, his tie was perfectly straight, his uniform was pressed and creaseless, his black shoes were gleaming, his face like a mask, his eyes carefully guarded that they represented chips of ice, his smirk etched artfully across his lips. Draco knew the image he gave the rest of the school screamed, 'Rich, Respected and Ravishing.' It was no wonder why most of the female population, and some males, of Hogwarts were dying to be in Pansy's shoes, to be the apple of Draco's eyes. If only they knew that it was all an act. There was a knock on the door.
'It must be Pansy.' Draco thought as he crossed his room to open the door. Sure enough, it was Pansy, waiting to "escort" Draco to the Great Hall, and enter it as if they had been together all night. One thing great about being a Slytherin prefect was that they did not sleep with the rest of the house and had their own private rooms. Something that Salazaar decided to give to his beloved pureblood prefects, of course the other Houses prefects did not know of this special privilege. But it made things a whole lot easier for Draco and Pansy. Draco stepped out of his room as they exchanged greetings of "Good Morning". Walking down the corridor that led straight to the Great Hall and enabled them to avoid interaction with the rest of the school (another gift from Salazaar), Draco and Pansy chatted animatedly about things one never finds a Slytherin talking about, like which was the most disgusting Bertie's Botts Every Flavoured Bean they came across (Mandrake Sweat).
"How's your arm? Feeling a lot better today I hope?" Pansy inquired with concern, indicating to Draco's arm. Draco nodded and pulled up his sleeve to show her the arm.
"Wow, I must say, Potter's quite good, not even a faintest hint of a scar." Pansy mused as she held Draco's arm close to her eyes, studying the arm thoroughly. Draco grunted gruffly as he pushed back the sleeve, covering the flawless skin of the arm.
"You don't have to be so touchy about it you know," Pansy said reproachfully, "Mind you; it was tough to act all angry with Potter as if he was the one who injured you when all I could think about was you bleeding yourself to death."
"Sorry."
"What was that Draco? I didn't hear you." Pansy said in a sing song voice, a grin on her face.
"I said I'm sorry!" Draco said, raising his voice a little, his cheeks flushed and thoroughly embarrassed. Pansy hummed softly, casting Draco an all knowing look that only served to irritate him more. As they approached the Great Hall, Draco started hissing instructions to Pansy.
"Now remember, girlfriend, madly in love with me. I'm marvellous."
Pansy felt a flicker of irritation, Draco was always obsessed with his image, "Just call me 'Darling'" she said as they stop just outside the doors of the Great Hall.
"How do I look?" Asked Draco, smoothing out his uniform.
"You're fine, absolutely gorgeous." Pansy said calmingly, picking a piece of lint off his shoulder.
"And me?"
"Stunning."
"Right, then let's knock them dead." Pansy said, earning a fleeting grin from Draco as they marched into the Great Hall, hand in hand.
As they entered the Great Hall, the activity of the student population, came to a standstill, all eyes following the pair to the Slytherin table, all except those of the Golden Trio. As that second passed, the student population seemed to have snapped out of its reverie as violent whispers blazed across the other houses' tables, no doubt talking about yesterday's accident. Draco sighed as he sat down; it was going to be a long day. People from his table were congratulating him for surviving the "ordeal" and praising him on how brave he was, he himself was saying things that only gave others the impression on what a cocky little snot he was. Blaise was at the other end of the table, holding his gaze with a raised eyebrow that looked as if he was thoroughly amused by the whole act. Shooting a death glare at Blaise, Draco gave a sidelong glance at the Gryffindor table, to see that the Mudblood looked absolutely furious and appalled, the Weasel was bent over the table, no doubt trying to complete some unfinished homework, the Golden Boy, seemed too interested with his porridge and did not seem to hear what the Mudblood was whispering into his ear while throwing dirty looks at the Weasel on regular intervals. If only life was that simple.
--
"I can't believe he has the cheek to waltz in here like he owns the place and ignore the fact that you were the one who saved his skin yesterday." Hissed Hermione, obviously outraged by Malfoy's ungratefulness. Harry looked up from his bowl of porridge to see Malfoy sit himself between Crabbe and Goyle.
"What did you expect Hermione? He's a Malfoy; poisonous toadstools don't change their spots." Ron said as though he wanted to fling the comment straight into Malfoy's face, as he looked up to catch Malfoy boasting on how he dodged the Tiggorn, he narrowed his eyes in disgust before he turned his attention back to his work. Hermione gave Ron a dirty look, pressing her lips into a thin line that could rival McGonagall's, well if he wasn't going to complete his homework; she certainly wasn't going to help him. As if on cue, Ron threw his quill angrily onto the table, splattering black ink everywhere. Cursing, he pointed his wand to the mess and muttered, "Scourgify", casting a hopeful glance at Hermione, hoping his pathetic look would melt her heart. Hermione rolled her eyes at his stupid attempts and turned her attention to Harry.
"Listen, Harry, aren't you going to do anything about Malfoy's ungrateful behaviour? Don't you think that you at least deserve a 'thank you' for saving him?" Hermione said, tapping Harry lightly on his shoulders to gain his attention. Harry finally tore his gaze away from Malfoy.
"'Mione," He said, evidently preoccupied and hadn't heard what Hermione had said, "Do you think you could help me later on? I need to go to the library during lunch break to research on Tiggorns, since I missed the whole lesson and I might need your expertise on the books." Hermione, who was still miffed by Harry's blatant ignorance to her question, softened upon hearing of visiting the library. Her eyes filled with tears as she clapped Harry on the shoulder, "Harry, I'm so proud of you, you're finally understanding the true importance of education."
"Ha ha. Very funny Hermione."
--
"Class dismissed."
Never in Harry's life, has he ever wanted to hear those two magical words. He viciously flung his things into his bag and stormed out of the dungeons, fuming mad. That had got to be the worst Potions lesson he had ever taken in his life. How the hell did he manage to land himself in the Advanced class for Potions? It was _Potions_, his worst subject right after Divination, and yet, somehow, he managed to score Outstanding for his OWLs. 'Those sick bastards of invigilators must have graded me out of sheer sadism.' Thought Harry, as he made for the library. First the three of them turned up late for class, but he was the only one to have points deducted. Then, he was partnered with Malfoy, who, when he wasn't sneering and throwing insults, ignored him like he was one of the pickled toads in jars. And somehow, the rhino beetles that they were suppose to add to concoct the potion kept jumping out of his cauldron, Harry knew Malfoy had something to do with it, but it was impossible as Malfoy would a need a wand but his wand was in his bag all along. To top it all, Snape punished him for "playing with his ingredients" by making him write a five foot long essay as to why rhino beetles were essential in the making of the Minotaur's Draught and its uses.
"Harry, wait for us!" Hermione yelled as she and Ron chased after him, Ron was still trying to cramp his things into his bag while he tried frantically to keep up. Harry slowed down and waited for his friends to catch up.
"Hermione, can you explain to me why am I still in Potions, and how the hell did I get into Advanced Potions?" Harry screeched, his eyes threatening to pop out. Hermione shrugged and said reassuringly, "Y'know Harry, you're really better than what you think you're. Honestly, don't think so low of yourself."
"Yeah mate, I mean think about it, I'm in Advanced Potions too, that's how lenient the invigilators were. At least we can say that we aren't too bad in our studies, being in all the good classes, plus, at least it's definite that we're all going to be Aurors." Ron said patting his back. Harry moaned, "I hope I'll survive the year just based on the mantra, at least you don't get picked on by him."
Ron patted his back sympathetically, that was something even he couldn't argue about. Suddenly, Harry let out a groan again, "Why don't you both head off to the library first? I left my Potions text in the dungeons, and I got to go and retrieve it."
Ron and Hermione nodded and went off in the direction of the library, while Harry turned and returned back to the dungeons. Entering the dungeons, he noticed that Snape was still there at the teacher's bench, apparently grading some second year's work.
"What do you want Potter? Most students don't come begging me to take away points from them." Snape said dryly as he stared at Harry with a raised eyebrow, his quill poised. Harry carefully averted his stare to avoid infuriating Snape as he headed to his bench to retrieve his forgotten book.
"Err; I had left this behind, Professor." He said, raising the book to show Snape the evidence. Snape responded with a flick of his head, returning to his pile of work, obviously dismissing Harry. Harry stood there for a minute, thinking over the real reason why he decided to return; did he really want to go ahead with it? After a minute of hesitancy, he decided to go ahead with his choice. He cleared his throat again to get Snape's attention. Snape looked up sharply; evidently surprised that Harry was still there.
"What is it this time Potter?"
Harry fidgeted, he didn't expect to be asked that soon, in fact, he was hoping for a bit of insult and dealing out of punishments before he had to ask Snape for the favour.
"Professor, I was wondering," Harry said, playing with the hem of his sleeve.
"Spit it out Potter, I haven't got all day to listen to your aimless babble."
"Do you think you could teach me occlumency?"
Snape was midway into insulting Harry again when he caught what Harry had said, and closed his mouth audibly. He eyed Harry suspiciously; it was obvious he was going through the possible ulterior motives on why Harry would want to take up such torture so willingly.
"Sit down Potter."
Harry obeyed, patiently sitting down on the nearest chair, fingering a bit of his robes as he bit on his lower lip, waiting in apprehension on what Snape would do next. Snape on the other hand, had his eyebrows knitted together. Should he just agree to get Potter out of his sight? He stared at the waiting boy; the clear lack of motive was unnerving.
"Give me one good reason Potter, why I would want to suffer the ordeal of having to teach you." Snape said, regaining his composure, leaning over his table to study the boy.
"Simply because Voldermort is back and I want to be on my guard against him, Professor." Harry said defiantly, as though stating the obvious. 'So, it's Black's death that is the real cause.' Thought Snape as he returned Harry's challenging stare.
"You may leave now, Potter." Snape said, as he returned to his pile of unmarked homework, indicating that the matter was close. Harry opened his mouth to demand an answer and shut it as he realised that Snape wasn't going to give him an answer without at least having to sleep over the matter. Nodding curtly, he turned and made his way to the library, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly off the dungeon walls.
--
Harry burst into the library, earning a disapproving sniff from Madam Pince, roving his eyes over the library; he caught the flaming hair of Ron, who towered over most of the students in his year. Ron, who was doing anything but studying noticed Harry and beckoned him over to join their table with a wave. Harry flashed him a grin as he crossed the library to join them, pulling up a chair and seating himself next to Hermione. Hermione, who was poring over a thick, dusty, ancient looking book, shoved a book that looked exactly the same under Harry's nose, telling him vaguely that it was the book he was looking for. Thanking her gratefully, he started to scan through the book quickly, searching for the piece of information that he was looking for. After an hour of flipping through the pages and tolerating Ron's ever increasing whines of the lack of food, Harry finally looked up from the book, a triumphant smile plastered on his face.
"Hermione!! I know why Malfoy's arm was bleeding in the first place!!" He said in an excited whisper, his eyes dancing fervently, as though he could barely contain his excitement.
"Ha! I knew this wasn't just about homework!!"
Hermione shot a death glare at Ron, which immediately caused the redhead to shut up, motioning for Harry to explain.
"You see, it says here, '. a wound caused by a Tiggorn is capable of reopening even after being healed if the victim had undergone severe physical damage by the Tiggorn. In such a case, the wound will reopen when exposed to the magical field that is cast by a Tiggorn, and will reopen even though it isn't the Tiggorn that inflicted the injury.'"
Hermione listened intently as realisation dawned upon her, her eyes widening in understanding, "This means Malfoy must have been hurt by a Tiggorn before."
"Serves him right, the stupid ungrateful git." Muttered Ron darkly, not feeling the least bit sorry for the Slytherin as Hermione turned to chide him.
"Very clever Mudblood. I'm flattered to find out that the three of you are part of my fan club." Malfoy said as he stepped out from behind a large book shelf.
--
Draco paused from his action of removing a book from the shelf. He swore he heard Potter's contained whisper somewhere in the library. Abandoning his reason for visiting the library, he darted between the shelves, determined to hear what Scarface had to say. Satisfied with his hearing range from the Golden Trio, he strained to catch what they were saying, his eyes widening as he caught snatches of their conversation. So, they had found out about his wound, he really had to hand it to them, first, for noticing the oddness of the whole incident yesterday, and second, for bothering to find out. A frown crossed his face as he heard the Weasel's insult; no one insulted a Malfoy and got away with it. He stepped out from behind the bookshelf, with the intention of making the Weasel pay.
"Very clever Mudblood. I'm flattered to find out that the three of you are part of my fan club."
It was amusing, to see the shock on the Mudblood's face, delightful, to see the Weasel tense in fury, but oddly, it was enrapturing, to see Potter just staring at him, his face devoid of all emotions, yet sensing the energy bursting out from those unnatural green eyes. Averting his gaze from Scarface, Draco turned his attention to Potter's loyal sidekicks, Granger being the first to recover, stood up, her face set, readying herself for the argument.
"Clearly Malfoy, you have no idea how to show gratitude, most people try not to insult their lifesaver when doing so."
"Mudblood, unlike you and pet Weasel, I have no intention of helping Scarface boost his career as hero of the disgraceful wizarding world." Draco said smoothly, staring at the shorter girl. The Weasel made an action to stand, as though he was going to strangle Draco but was held back by Potter.
"Bad Weasel! Sit! Sit, that's right, listen to Potter." Draco mocked, barely able to contain his laughter as the Weasel struggled in Potter's hold, only to stop when Granger shot him a look.
"What do you want Malfoy?" Potter asked, his face expressionless, but his hand was tensed, ready to reach for his wand if the situation called for it. Draco strode over, as if to intimidate Potter. Potter remained unmoved, tilting his head slightly, challenging Draco silently.
"Don't mess with me Potter, you won't like it." Draco warned, his grey eyes flashed dangerously, studying Potter's green eyes, that reflected the same energy, both challenging each other, they were so close, they were invading each other's personal space, each daring the other to pull away, Harry could feel Malfoy's breath on his cheeks, it was amazing how the both of them could stand the tension between them, Draco could sense the magic radiating off Potter, the intensity, the feeling of his own magic charging through him like tingling electric currents. A silent battle roaring in their heads. Then, Draco stepped back with a smirk, turned and left the silent library.
"Utter lunatic," Ron said, shaking his head at Malfoy's disappearing back into the darkened corridor, "What was that all about anyway?"
Harry shrugged, just as puzzled at Malfoy's odd behaviour. Hermione returned to her seat, a thoughtful look etched across her face, just now, she was positive she could feel the magic permeating off the two wizards; it was like continuous waves of magic rolling off the two of them. But that was impossible; both of them had to be capable of performing wandless magic, but one had to be really powerful to do so, as wandless magic was definitely beyond seventh year standard, and most mature wizards and witches were incapable of wandless magic. She had to look up that branch of magic, she thought, making a mental note of it. She was startled out of her train of thoughts when Harry flung down his quill, biting back a curse.
"What is it mate?"
"I forgot that I'm running low on Centaurs' Weed, we'll need that for next Potions right?" Nods of confirmation only caused Harry to groan.
"Great, I'll be right back; I need to buy some off Snape before he finds another reason to put me in detention." Harry said, as he reluctantly slid off his chair and made his way to the dungeons for the third time that day. Ron gave him a look of empathy, before Hermione told him to concentrate on his work.
--
Draco needed to think. A place without the rest of the student population screwing up his thinking. Which was why he was heading to the lake during mid-autumn, although he was fully aware that he might just freeze his brains out instead. As he approached the edge of the lake, he cast his bag to one side, and flopped down onto the grass. The scene in the library replaying in his head.
'Yep, Potter could definitely do wandless magic,' Thought Draco, remembering the feeling of magic rippling over him, little vibrations of electric currents, 'although I don't think he is aware of it.'
Then another thought struck Draco, was he really grateful for Potter saving his life? 'Anyone could have done it, is just that Potter had to do it.' Would he be grateful if anyone else had done it? 'Well it depends right? Had it been Pansy or Blaise, of course I would have been grateful. If it were anyone else then I'd have to keep my image first right?' Does that mean he is grateful for Potter, just unable to show it because of his image? 'How the hell am I suppose to know? Bloody hell, it's Harry-freaking- Potter. I don't need his charity.'
'Argh, forget it. Even if I'm grateful, it's not like I can go up and say, 'Hey Harry, thanks man, you're a real lifesaver.' A Malfoy should never be in need of help, and anyway, that sounds stupid.' Thought Draco, rubbing the back of his neck, losing himself in his thoughts.
--
The greatest gift one could give Harry this year for Christmas would be common sense. Right now, Harry was scourging around the floor of the Forbidden Forest, looking for his much needed Centaurs' Weed. He had gone to the dungeons to look for Snape, only to find the dungeons empty. Of course, it did not occur to him that he could look for Snape in the teachers' room if he was really desperate, nor did it occur to him that he could always ask Snape tomorrow, as his next Potions lesson would only be on Thursday. No, our Harry had to follow his Gryffindor impulse and make the trek to the Forbidden Forest. And now since he was there, he might as well look for the confounded Centaurs' Weed.
The scene at the library was going through his head again. Why didn't Malfoy want them to find out about him? 'Yes, ask the obvious, would you want anyone peeping into your private life?' Harry thought. What was he playing at just now? He still could feel Malfoy's breath on him, and that weird tingling sensation that washed over him. Harry was so caught up in his thoughts, that he was making so much noise, crashing through the forest, disrupting the silence. Harry was so caught up in his thoughts; he kicked a boulder by accident, only to find out in his horror that the boulder made a noise, and that on closer look, the boulder was BREATHING!!
'Oh, crap.'
Harry plunged his hand into his pocket, with the full intention of stunning the troll as it leapt to its feet, to find out in dismay, that he left his wand at the library.
"Great, just great." Muttered Harry, before he broke into a run, the enraged troll tearing after him.
Harry darted between the tall trees of the forest hoping to confuse and shake off the troll, but to no avail, the troll was smashing everything in its way, ploughing through the forest as though the tall trees were just fragile sticks. Harry could smell the putrid breath of the troll on the back of his neck. The troll roared, frustrated that Harry was dodging all its blows, making the extra effort to destroy the creature that awoke it from its sleep. Harry started to tire as the troll's blows became quicker and more reckless. He had to make it out of the Forest and into safety. He had to.
--
A roar erupted from the Forbidden Forest, knocking Draco out of his thoughts. Draco tensed up, should he run? He certainly did not want whatever was from the Forest to find him. Again, another roar. He could hear the crashing of trees. Whatever it was, it was getting nearer. Sudden realisation struck Draco, it was chasing something. Unable to take the suspense, Draco allowed his curiosity to get the better of him, he walked to the side of the Forbidden Forest which was near the lake, hoping he could see what was happening from where he stood.
Then from the Forest, a boy ran out into the open field of the school, assuming that he would be safe and that whatever was chasing him would not have the courage to follow him into the school, he stopped running.
Suddenly, two trees were ripped apart and Draco saw what was chasing the boy. A huge mountain troll erupted from the Forest and into the clearing; the monster was at least thirty feet tall and was an ugly sight. A mould of fat and leathery grey skin speckled with warts and pockets of pus, on two stubby legs was the closest description. It looked around the clearing for the boy, and spotted him, making a swipe for the boy.
'Holy shit! That boy is Potter!' Thought Draco, recognising the mop of raven hair.
Potter tried to dodge the troll, but the monster managed to catch Potter's leg, a sickening crack was heard. Potter collapsed onto the grass, unable to escape. The troll was advancing onto Potter, who did not make any attempt to run, in fact, it didn't look like Potter could run anywhere. Impulse took over as Draco ran up to the scene, attracting the troll's attention. Disturbed, the troll turned to face the new source of trouble, its dumb looking eyes focusing on Draco. Enraged at the second disturbance, which delayed it from having a decent meal, the troll raised its hand into the air, teetering there for a moment, before bringing it down.
Draco saw the blister-infested, wart-covered hand rushing down to him, a gust of wind so strong, it roared in his ears. So that's what death was like, rushing to you, so fast you didn't have time to stop it, or prevent it. But Draco didn't want to die, at least, not now. Not by the hand of a repulsive troll. Instinctively, Draco knew he had to stun the creature. Without time to reach for his wand, he yelled, "STUPEFY!!"
The troll's hand paused in midair, tottering for a brief second. The troll swayed its head stupidly, its mouth hung open loosely. Then, it let out a groan, as its eyes rolled upwards, and the troll fell backwards, causing the floor to shake, its head limp.
Draco let out the pent up air that had built up in him. Potter sat on the grass, unmoving. His face was pale, sweat was pouring down his face, his spectacles dangling dangerously at the tip of his nose. His teeth were gritted together, his ragged breath was so loud, Draco could hear it over the breathing of the massive troll. His face was contorted in pain and he was clutching his right ankle, the knuckles of his hands were white. Tentatively, Draco approached Potter, one look at Scarface; Draco knew Potter had broken his ankle.
"Stay still." Draco muttered silently as he kneeled down beside Potter. Potter shot him the look that said do I look like I am going any where? Preoccupied, Draco pulled off Potter's shoe, folding up his pants to reveal a swollen ankle, badly twisted at an odd angle. Lightly, he pressed his slender fingers against the broken bone, bit his lower lip in concentration, allowing his magic to flow through the tips of his fingers, his fingers let off a golden glow as he gently healed the broken ankle and twisted it into its proper position. Pleased with his work, Draco looked up, to see Potter staring at him with an incredulous look. Then realising what he had just done, Draco's eyes widened in horror, before he bolted, leaving Potter in the open field next to a stunned troll.
--
Author's note:
Finally managed to finish this chapter, it's longer than the other cos I decided this ought to be the explain all chapter, thanks to sakura and rowan for pointing out the mistake in the months. Erm.. it will be slash but only in the later chapters, so be patient. A big thank you to all the reviewers. Please review!!