Thanks so much to all that reviewed. I am having a lot of fun writing this
one, glad you are enjoying it! Please read and review!
Thanks to: slasherbabe, wintermoon2, GenX-Revolution, Anarane Anwamane (yes, that's what I thought too), Chihiro-loves-Haku (thank you very much), Kristen, PWeatherby (it most certainly was...), valkayrie, PsychicOracle (Starbucks rules! I wish I could write off my coffee on taxes), headphone therapy, a-yolanda 13, Elly Malfoy, nil-blaze, Siria Black Midnight and Sowen.
A/N: House-elves have quite a bit of magic of their own, so I decided to give Dobby the power to control others, if for only a little bit at a time. He still doesn't have a good handle on it, though and yes, mistakes will be made.
*********************************************************
Chapter III. Say It With Dead Flowers
Ron and Hermione dragged Harry out into the hallway next to the Great Hall.
"What happened in there?" Hermione asked.
Harry leaned against one of the stone walls. "I have no idea. I...I lost control of my own body." He patted his arms and legs. "I seem to be ok now, but that was...."
"Disturbing." Ron added. "You were making goo-goo eyes at Malfoy, of all people."
"But why?" Hermione questioned. "Could Malfoy have been the one behind it?"
"Why would he do that?" Harry asked.
"To embarrass you," Hermione stated. "Or, who knows, maybe he likes you touching his hand."
"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "Don't even say that in jest."
Harry looked back toward the doors to the Great Hall. Two questions had been on his mind for the last five minutes. One, who was behind the dinner show he had just put on, and two, why did he feel such a jolt in his stomach when he'd touched Malfoy's hand? Did Malfoy have something to do with it?
"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Are you ok, do you want to see Madame Pomfrey?"
"No," Harry shook his head. "Really, I'll be fine."
************************************************************************
The next day came and was nearly over before something happened to make them all question their sanity. Seventh-Year Gryffindors and Slytherins were out by Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures. So far nothing had been out of the ordinary, save for a few runaway salamanders that managed to set fire to the bushes before being contained.
Harry was busy feeding small bites of charcoal to the salamander he had been charged with when Draco walked past.
"Careful, Potter," he sneered. "Don't burn your precious fingers. You might want to hold my hand sometime during dinner."
Harry looked back at the egotistical blond. "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy," he answered. "Obviously I wasn't in my right mind yesterday. No one in their right mind would WANT to touch you."
High above the quarreling duo Dobby sat on one of the tree limbs, clutching the magazine he had borrowed from the Slytherin room with one hand and the branch with the other.
".....'There is no quicker way to melt the heart of your intended that to bring them a bouquet of beautiful flowers'," Dobby read.
"Oh, yes. That would be wonderful. Dobby sees many flowers here. Harry Potter will love flowers!"
Draco had been in the middle of a rant when he suddenly stopped cold.
"And furthermore, POTTER, I would never want....want...."
"Yes, MALFOY?" Harry countered.
But Draco didn't say anything. As a matter of fact, he walked away from the group, leaving Harry, Ron, Hermione, Crabbe, and Goyle to watch the blond lean down by the edge of the forest and come back up with a handful of... well, not exactly flowers.
Draco sauntered back over to the confused students, and held his offering out to Harry.
"Draco?" asked Ron.
"Yes?"
"Why are you holding those grubby weeds?"
Draco looked at the bunch of foliage in his hand. In addition to several tall weeds, there was one flower, a lot of grass, and below his hand, the roots dangled, dirt falling off in clumps.
"What do you mean weeds?" Draco huffed. "I'll have you know a Malfoy does not give 'grubby weeds' to anyone! These beautiful flowers are for Harry!"
"For HARRY?!" the collective question came from the entire group.
"Yes," Draco stated firmly. "Here, Harry," he smiled as he handed the 'bouquet' to the raven haired boy. "These are for you."
Harry took them slowly, not really sure what to do with them, or what to say. "Are you feeling ok, Malfoy?"
"Of course," Draco exclaimed."Could not be better. Now, I know these flowers are nowhere near as gorgeous as you, but I didn't have time to shop for better. But don't worry, I will make sure you have the most beautiful flowers I can find...when...when...."
"Oh, no!" Dobby grabbed at the magazine, catching it right before it fell out of the tree and onto the students below. "Oh, Dobby has lost his concentration," he moaned.
Goyle shook Draco by the arm. "Draco, you alright?"
"I...what... yes, of course I'm alright, I..." Suddenly he caught sight of the 'flowers' in Harry's hand.
"What did you do to me Potter?!" Draco spat.
Harry couldn't resist. "Nothing Draco, baby." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "What did you want me to do?"
"What?" Draco blushed furiously. "I wouldn't...never in a million years....I..oh, COME ON!" Draco walked off in a huff, followed by Crabbe and Goyle.
"Ok," Draco thought as they headed for the dungeons. "Now I"VE lost my damn mind."
End of Chapter III.
A/N: The title of the story comes from The Rolling Stones song "Dead Flowers". GE
Thanks to: slasherbabe, wintermoon2, GenX-Revolution, Anarane Anwamane (yes, that's what I thought too), Chihiro-loves-Haku (thank you very much), Kristen, PWeatherby (it most certainly was...), valkayrie, PsychicOracle (Starbucks rules! I wish I could write off my coffee on taxes), headphone therapy, a-yolanda 13, Elly Malfoy, nil-blaze, Siria Black Midnight and Sowen.
A/N: House-elves have quite a bit of magic of their own, so I decided to give Dobby the power to control others, if for only a little bit at a time. He still doesn't have a good handle on it, though and yes, mistakes will be made.
*********************************************************
Chapter III. Say It With Dead Flowers
Ron and Hermione dragged Harry out into the hallway next to the Great Hall.
"What happened in there?" Hermione asked.
Harry leaned against one of the stone walls. "I have no idea. I...I lost control of my own body." He patted his arms and legs. "I seem to be ok now, but that was...."
"Disturbing." Ron added. "You were making goo-goo eyes at Malfoy, of all people."
"But why?" Hermione questioned. "Could Malfoy have been the one behind it?"
"Why would he do that?" Harry asked.
"To embarrass you," Hermione stated. "Or, who knows, maybe he likes you touching his hand."
"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "Don't even say that in jest."
Harry looked back toward the doors to the Great Hall. Two questions had been on his mind for the last five minutes. One, who was behind the dinner show he had just put on, and two, why did he feel such a jolt in his stomach when he'd touched Malfoy's hand? Did Malfoy have something to do with it?
"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Are you ok, do you want to see Madame Pomfrey?"
"No," Harry shook his head. "Really, I'll be fine."
************************************************************************
The next day came and was nearly over before something happened to make them all question their sanity. Seventh-Year Gryffindors and Slytherins were out by Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures. So far nothing had been out of the ordinary, save for a few runaway salamanders that managed to set fire to the bushes before being contained.
Harry was busy feeding small bites of charcoal to the salamander he had been charged with when Draco walked past.
"Careful, Potter," he sneered. "Don't burn your precious fingers. You might want to hold my hand sometime during dinner."
Harry looked back at the egotistical blond. "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy," he answered. "Obviously I wasn't in my right mind yesterday. No one in their right mind would WANT to touch you."
High above the quarreling duo Dobby sat on one of the tree limbs, clutching the magazine he had borrowed from the Slytherin room with one hand and the branch with the other.
".....'There is no quicker way to melt the heart of your intended that to bring them a bouquet of beautiful flowers'," Dobby read.
"Oh, yes. That would be wonderful. Dobby sees many flowers here. Harry Potter will love flowers!"
Draco had been in the middle of a rant when he suddenly stopped cold.
"And furthermore, POTTER, I would never want....want...."
"Yes, MALFOY?" Harry countered.
But Draco didn't say anything. As a matter of fact, he walked away from the group, leaving Harry, Ron, Hermione, Crabbe, and Goyle to watch the blond lean down by the edge of the forest and come back up with a handful of... well, not exactly flowers.
Draco sauntered back over to the confused students, and held his offering out to Harry.
"Draco?" asked Ron.
"Yes?"
"Why are you holding those grubby weeds?"
Draco looked at the bunch of foliage in his hand. In addition to several tall weeds, there was one flower, a lot of grass, and below his hand, the roots dangled, dirt falling off in clumps.
"What do you mean weeds?" Draco huffed. "I'll have you know a Malfoy does not give 'grubby weeds' to anyone! These beautiful flowers are for Harry!"
"For HARRY?!" the collective question came from the entire group.
"Yes," Draco stated firmly. "Here, Harry," he smiled as he handed the 'bouquet' to the raven haired boy. "These are for you."
Harry took them slowly, not really sure what to do with them, or what to say. "Are you feeling ok, Malfoy?"
"Of course," Draco exclaimed."Could not be better. Now, I know these flowers are nowhere near as gorgeous as you, but I didn't have time to shop for better. But don't worry, I will make sure you have the most beautiful flowers I can find...when...when...."
"Oh, no!" Dobby grabbed at the magazine, catching it right before it fell out of the tree and onto the students below. "Oh, Dobby has lost his concentration," he moaned.
Goyle shook Draco by the arm. "Draco, you alright?"
"I...what... yes, of course I'm alright, I..." Suddenly he caught sight of the 'flowers' in Harry's hand.
"What did you do to me Potter?!" Draco spat.
Harry couldn't resist. "Nothing Draco, baby." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "What did you want me to do?"
"What?" Draco blushed furiously. "I wouldn't...never in a million years....I..oh, COME ON!" Draco walked off in a huff, followed by Crabbe and Goyle.
"Ok," Draco thought as they headed for the dungeons. "Now I"VE lost my damn mind."
End of Chapter III.
A/N: The title of the story comes from The Rolling Stones song "Dead Flowers". GE