Yes, finally, chapter 6 is up. Wahoo! Thanks for being so patient with me. And thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! You rock my socks.
So, there's finally some Harry/Draco interaction. ^_^
Chapter 6
Day One
Harry's feet were dragging by the time he finally made it to the Great Hall. He had tried to run off to the Gryffindor Tower at least five times already, but each time some force field-type thing stopped him. Evidently, even mentally imbalanced fairy godmothers knew how stubborn he was...
With a sigh, he readjusted his grip on the plate of steaming food, and dejectedly made his way to the doorway, apprehensively wondering what, exactly, he would find there.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco was bored.
Draco was I-have-been-stranded-on-a-rock-for-thirteen-hours-bored.
Sure, the wide berth he'd been given at first had been great, refreshing… but after a while… not so much. Of course, there had been a slight diversion when a stream of girls (and surprisingly, several males) began cautiously approaching the sword, trying to see if they could yank it out. Draco'd had fun taunting them as they strained at the stubborn hunk of steel, but had begun to grow alarmed when the throng began steadily growing. Apparently, he was popular among the student body. Who would have thought? Anyways, when the numbers grew too unbearable, he whipped out his wand and blasted a few curses here or there. Now that had been entertaining. A full five minutes of mass chaos. And Dumbledore had been too busy chasing his geese and adjusting his bonnet to do anything about it…
But now he was bored. And hungry.
…wait. Was that… food he smelled?
No, no. He was delirious. He was hallucinating. There was no food. Stop tormenting yourself, dammit!
….
FOOD!!
Pattering footsteps moved slowly, too slowly, towards the hall, and the aroma of freshly grilled steak, mashed potatoes, and other assorted very nice-smelling foodstuffs wafted towards him, making his hollow stomach grumble in an annoyed fashion. Draco leaned eagerly towards the entryway, as far as his chain would let him, eyes lighting up for the first time since he'd given Hannah Abbot green horns nine hours earlier. Hells, he was hungry…
He immediately lost his appetite when Harry Potter rounded the corner.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"YOU." Harry spluttered in horror, nearly choking in shock as he stepped sharply back. Draco looked similarly disgusted, but this time his expression was mixed with a tinge of… fear? Was THE Draco Malfoy afraid of him?
*We shall now take a quick glance into the mind of Draco Malfoy*
Oh hells. Potter has the food. POTTER! HAS MY FOOD! HE'LL NEVER GIVE ME WHAT'S RIGHTFULLY MINE! AUGGHH!!!! …God, I want that food. Don't look hungry, Draco, don't look hungry… fuck. I hate my stomach and all its… growliness. Fuckfuckfuck. He's staring at the sword. I am never going to live this down.
....
WHY DOES POTTER HAVE THE FOOD! ARGGHH!!!
*Exit mind of Draco Malfoy*
… and why was he chained to a rock?
"Why are YOU here?" Harry hissed as he began to regain control over himself. "And what's up with the chains? Have the higher-ups finally come to their senses and restrained you?"
Draco's eyes narrowed. This was something of a surprise to Harry- normally, Malfoy would just brush his comment away like so much dust and counter with a snide remark concerning his appearance/parentage/friends, but today… he was agitated. Definitely at the end of his rope… or should he say, chain?
Harry snickered to himself. Draco grew increasingly affronted. "Just… shut up, Potter, and give me the food," he snapped, teeth clenching. His eyes were now locked on the plate of food, and he slowly moved away from the sword, which he'd embarrassedly tried to cover when Harry had entered.
The black-haired boy blinked innocently. "What, this?" he asked carelessly, waving the plate around. Finally! He had power over Draco Malfoy! Harry felt like dancing.
Draco, on the other hand, seemed to be teetering on the edge of a fit of apoplexy. Suddenly, he whipped out his wand and opened his mouth to shout a spell, but Harry interrupted him, tutting patronizingly. "Now, Malfoy, you should know better than that! If you try the Accio spell on the plate, the food will just spill everywhere, and we wouldn't want that, would we? Now, if you were only a little more polite, may-be I would consider giving it to you…"
Draco looked purely murderous. For a moment, Harry thought he wouldn't concede, but then he clenched his fists, looked down (if looks could kill, Draco would now be standing on a pile of rubble instead of a boulder), and mumbled something under his breath.
"What was that?" Harry sang, "I couldn't hear you, speak up."
"I SAID, PLEASE!!! PLEASE, ALL RIGHT?!?!?! PLEASE GIVE ME THE FUCKING FOOD!!!" Draco howled, his voice echoing and bouncing around the walls, so thunderous that Harry took a step back, eyes widened. He hesitated, suddenly not exactly sure that he wanted to approach Malfoy when he was in such a… deranged state of mind.
…but Malfoy had said please, and Harry's Gryffindor-ic sensibilities wouldn't let him back down on his word…
With a sigh, he cautiously made his way over to his arch-nemesis, the plate clenched tightly in his hands. Malfoy immediately pounced once Harry got into range, snatching the food out of his hands without a word of thanks and hastily setting about devouring it. As disgusted as Harry was at being in such close range to the person he hated most, he still couldn't help being vaguely amused by the fact that Malfoy still managed to look coolly dignified when demolishing a slab of steak. Of course, he wouldn't have expected any less from the self-centered, egotistical git…
Harry suddenly found himself smiling fondly. He was alarmed. Very alarmed.
The work overload was getting to his head… yeah, that was it.
Feeling rather sickened and highly disconcerted, he snapped, "Hurry up, will you? I want to go to sleep, I've had a long day."
Predictably, Malfoy slowed down considerably, leering at Harry as he leisurely bit into a piece of meat. Snarling with irritation, Harry turned sharply about so he was facing AWAY from the golden haired Satan spawn, and instead facing the door…
…which had somehow slammed shut without his notice.
He gaped. Draco, apparently, had noticed too, because a clatter of fallen cutlery had registered in the part of his mind that wasn't occupied with freaking out.
"He locked us in!" Harry howled, looking fit to burst. "Snape is a SADIST, I tell you, A SADIST!!!"
Draco buried his head in his hands, snarling, "What in the seven levels of hell did I do to deserve this?"
Harry spun around, eyes blazing. "Well, let's see," he hissed, face flushed with frustration and anger. "One, you're a git. Two, y-"
"I don't need this from you right now, Potter," Draco said coldly, picking up his plate of food and resuming his meal. "Yes, I'm a gorgeous, god-like prick, now get over it."
Harry gaped disbelievingly at his arch-nemesis, his jaw swinging loosely on its hinges. Draco continued picking coolly at his dinner, flatly ignoring him.
The emerald-eyed boy buried his head in his hands. "I don't believe this," he muttered, "You're a nutcase, you know that?"
Draco considered this, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully as he chewed on a potato. "You know, I think I prefer 'deranged evil genius.' Has a better ring to it."
Much to Harry's chagrin, he couldn't suppress a smile at this, but lost no time in turning it into a disgruntled scowl.
"I hate you," he muttered.
Draco arched an eyebrow. "Losing your touch, Potter. That was terribly weak. I think I may have to search for a new arch-nemesis if that's the best you c- hey! What do you think you're doing?! This is my rock!"
Harry hopped agilely onto the stone, completely ignoring the irritated blonde. While Draco had been ranting, his eyes had drifted to the sword and were caught by a faint glimmer of gold shimmering beneath the hilt of the Slytherin's sword. Curiosity piqued, he crouched before it and peered at the thin tracery of writing.
By the time Draco registered what the Gryffindor was doing, it was too late; as he angrily sprang to his feet and lunged at Harry, the dark-haired boy gave an ear-splitting whoop of laughter and leaped out of arm's reach.
"True love? TRUE LOVE?!?" Apparently, Harry found the pairing of the words 'Draco Malfoy' and 'true love' in the same sentence to be terribly amusing.
Draco was never going to live this down.
Very much aware of this fact, the blonde pushed several errant strands of gold from his face (this agitated him even more- his gel was wearing off) and snapped icily, "As delighted as I am that I have brought joy and laughter into your life, I'd be most grateful if you'd KINDLY SHUT IT!!"
The abruptness of the last shouted phrase quite effectively startled Harry into 'shutting it,' so he spent the next few seconds attempting to compose himself, clutching at his sides and hiccupping weakly, a huge grin still plastered over his face. Draco blinked, and a thought struggled its way through the jarring, edgy sea of irritation buzzing in his mind: that lopsided grin made Potter look absolutely adora…
Uhh… idiotic. Yeah.
"So, did Snape do this to you then?"
Draco blinked again, surprised that Potter hadn't snatched up the opportunity to turn the entire situation into a riotous taunt-fest. He knew that would be what he'd be doing in Potter's shoes.
Idiot Gryffindor.
Recovering enough from his surprise (none of which had crept onto his face, of course) to come out with a decent answer, he drawled sardonically, "Oh, how observant of you, Potter. Fifty points to Gryffindor. I always knew there had to be some speck of intelligence in that inflated head of yours…"
Much to Draco's chagrin, Harry ignored the jibe, (which, he had to mournfully admit to himself, was rather weak… what was wrong with his Wit-o-Meter today?!?) merely sweeping a hand through his rumpled hair and staring at him thoughtfully. "But why would Snape chain you up?" he inquired slowly, confusion creeping into his face, "Aren't you his little lapdog? He always croons and fawns over you."
"Jealous, Potter?" Draco shot back archly. When Harry spluttered, red-faced, and opened his mouth to snap at him, Draco smoothly swept on, talking over him. "The thing is, Potter, Severus has a thing with bondage. Chains are kinky, you know…"
Harry gave a choked gargle of horror at this and flushed pure vermillion. Leaping frantically away from the snickering blonde, he stumbled, spluttering, "You… you mean… you… with SNAPE??!? You…" At this point, Harry's mind seemed to go into overload, and he merely emitted garbled ejaculations of horror.
Draco, unable to control himself any longer, burst into howls of derisive laughter, sitting with a 'thump' down on the rock and clutching at his sides. Between spasms of mirth, he sneered, "I knew you were thick, Potter, but this just takes the cake."
Flushing to an even deeper shade of magenta, Harry narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists, teeth bared. "That wasn't funny, Malfoy," he hissed, inwardly still reeling with horrified shock at the images Malfoy's calm statement had conjured.
"Oh, it most certainly was," Draco snickered, his laughter dying down. "That was priceless. Too bad I didn't have a camera…"
Harry clenched his fists, raking his hand through his hair once more. He tended to mess with his hair when he was aggravated, making it even messier than usual. Angrily, he opened his mouth to snap back at the blonde, but Malfoy coolly talked over him. Again.
"Well, it seems it's your lucky day, Potter. I'm bored. Bored enough to attempt to shove some knowledge into that thick, bloated skull of yours. And so, if you must know why I am now chained to this rock…"
With that, Malfoy began calmly explaining the 'denial' factor of Snape's spell. Harry's temper slowly died down as he listened to Draco clearly lay out the intricacies of the spell, amazed that Draco Malfoy could be so… intelligent. He'd always assumed that every inch of that golden-blonde head was crammed with insults and blind, petty hatred. But as he listened to the Slytherin speak, it dawned on Harry how little he knew of his arch-nemesis. He'd always been just a two-dimensional fairytale villain to him; in his mind, Draco was firmly cemented in his role as 'snivelling evil little git.' Were there more sides of Malfoy he'd missed because of his prejudices?
"…so that's it. Got that, Potter? Or was that too much for your poor little brain to take in?"
Blinking and scrambling to recollect what Malfoy had just said, Harry shook of his sudden bout of thoughtfulness, reorienting himself. Brushing aside the jibe, he considered this new information, slowly saying, "So… everyone affected by the spell is in denial, then. What are you in denial about?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Love, apparently," he spat, gesturing angrily towards the sword. "Don't know what the hell Snape's thinking, chaining me up like this… as if I would ever be weak enough to love someone…" There was a short pause as Draco's rant trailed off, and he eyed Harry thoughtfully, his trademark smirk slowly spreading across his face. "I think I know why you're here, though."
Harry's eyebrows shot into the fringe of his hair. "Oh, do tell me, O Source of All Knowledge," Harry deadpanned, voice completely flat. Draco ignored him.
"You're here because you chose Gryffindor."
Now that hadn't been expected. Harry blinked, completely at a loss for words.
"You look flabbergasted, Potter. Let me explain. The day you turned down my friendship was the day you turned your back on true greatness."
…was it just Harry's imagination, or did Draco sound bitter?? Had his offer of friendship actually been sincere?
….
No. No!! Of course not! What was he thinking?! Malfoy had proved over and over again what a conniving little weasel he was. He didn't want to be his friend. He had done the right thing, turning his back on him six years ago.
A sudden burst of hot anger shot through him as memories of Draco's past stunts swarmed to the forefront of his mind. He focused on that anger, drawing on it for strength, and struggled to crush the small, niggling fear that what Draco was about to say was the truth.
"Oh, yes, Malfoy," Harry snapped acidly, bursting into uncharacteristic venom. "How stupid of me, to completely miss the fact that your 'friendship' is the key to 'true greatness!!' How could I have been so BLIND?! Please forgive me."
Malfoy eyed him coldly, his expression not changing in the slightest. "I'm not talking about me, you nimrod, I'm talking about your rejection of what I represent. Your rejection of what you could have achieved if you'd accepted it. But no, instead you had to throw away everything that was offered to you and wrap yourself in those Gryffindoric lies."
The blonde's voice turned to pure venom as he spoke, grey eyes steely and unyielding. Harry froze under his gaze, each word he spoke like a punch in the gut. He nervously wondered how on earth Malfoy could have known about his argument with the Sorting Hat.
"You could have been in Slytherin. You-"
"Yes, I could have!! But I…"
"But you chose not to," Draco said calmly, "which is exactly my point. These idiotic morals of yours are preventing you from ever becoming anything great. You chose Gryffindor, and now there's nothing for you to do but fade away. You'll become something symbolic, something everyone will look up to- but they'll only be looking up to who they THINK you are. You're the great Harry Potter, boy wonder, god. You can't escape the image you've built for yourself, Harry. You'll spend the rest of your life trying to be the hero you've created."
If Harry hadn't been so numb by the time Malfoy finished, he would have been shocked by the Slytherin's use of his first name. But his words had thrown him completely off kilter, an icy lump building in the pit of his stomach. Everything he'd just said, Harry had thought to himself at least once in the past few years, late at night when the sweat tangled sheets seemed to strangle him, and the empty, bleak darkness felt thick enough to swallow him whole…
Those were his worst moments, feverish and nightmare ridden, thick with fear and self-doubt. Those thoughts would hover vague and insubstantial in the back of his mind, but he'd always crush them as soon as they formed. But now, hearing another person throw those muddled, gnawing thoughts in his face, with such cold certainty and conviction, somehow made his fears more real and whole.
Although a part of him knew that it was all just rubbish, and that his beliefs were worth everything he'd sacrificed for them, he couldn't help feeling that Draco's prediction of his future was correct. He wasn't perfect, he wasn't the god everyone made him out to be. Should he have led everybody on like this? Should he have just gone into Slytherin and sink out of the public eye, letting everyone find another, real hero to worship?
"The door's open, Potter." Draco's voice was quiet, his eyes expressionless.
Numbly, Harry turned, and saw that he was right- some time during their argument, the door had swung open. Blankly collecting Malfoy's plate, troubled thoughts still jostling through his head, he slowly headed towards the door, footsteps heavy. He could feel the Slytherin's gaze burning into his back as he left.
By the time he'd gotten halfway to the kitchen, though, his mind was clearing. He snorted softly to himself for being such a fool, and his bearing lost its dazed, wounded slump. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he smiled quietly to himself. It was true, he wasn't perfect- no one was. But even though this was the case, sticking to his morals was important to him, and that meant he had to do what he could to help the wizarding community. Slinking around and tending only to his own needs was completely against his nature and beliefs.
And yes, maybe he would fade away, become only a fabled icon. Maybe he'd never be able to leave his house without being bombarded for being the Boy Wonder he was not. Maybe- and this seemed far more likely to Harry- he'd die in the battle against Voldemort, die because of the path he'd chosen. But that was his own cross to bear, and he'd bear it gladly.
And plus… that couldn't possibly be what he was in denial about! How would turning into Cinderella make him get in touch with his Slytherin side?!
He snorted, a small smile flitting across his face as he tiredly faced the portrait of the pair. Their conversation had left him thoroughly drained. But, he couldn't help thinking as he slumped into the kitchen, it had been oddly enlightening. He was slowly beginning to realize that beneath all of those poisonous insults and invectives, there was something else to Malfoy; a something that was intelligent, witty, and terrifyingly clear-sighted.
And when Draco had been talking about the empty idolization his future might contain, Harry could have sworn there was heavily veiled concern in his voice…
He wondered what kind of person Draco would be if he hadn't been raised in the house of Lucius Malfoy. It was an interesting thought.
But one to think about later. He was tired!
~*~*~*~*~
Fairytale Count:
*Mother Goose (if you missed it, there's a comment in the beginning about Dumbledore chasing his geese, etc. Yep- he's now Mother Goose. ^_^)
My apologies for writing such a crappy chapter... ;_; Hopefully the next one will be less appalling. Anyways, thanks for reading! Review and I will love you forever.