A/N: All right, the first chapter of this says it takes place in March.
Well, I "lied." . It takes place in November. I said March way back
when, when I had no future plot line. Fortunately for all of you who like
reading this, I now have the basic plot outline all figured out. I think
it shall be good! And I will try to update in reasonable amounts of time.
I would also like to say that I wrote most of this chapter on my laptop while laying on my bed, and my body was like this -- most of the time. I hope everyone apprieciates what I went through for this. XD
A short thanks list bcuz I don't like taking up room: unmei3---your stuff rocks! Kaylie---everyone agrees with you so I have. Maggoe---thanks chica! Bad-Azz-SlytherinChaos---yuppers. SilentShadow007---okey dokey TURNER---I can't tell yet!! Siren of the Darknessflame---Not yet, we need suspense! yaoi-is-gay-13---not telling yet :) Rena---thanks, I'm working on it. kat---it won't be too sad, I'm working on updates! cardboardboxkid---thank you very much ladies and gentleman, I try. The book details are always in my head. ;) thanks EVERYONE!
Chapter 3:
Breakfast in the Great Hall Monday morning was much too raucous in Harry, Hermione and Ron's opinion. Everyone was in too good a mood. Gryffindor had absolutely stomped Ravenclaw on the Saturday match although it had been a very foul game.
When the three of them walked into the Great Hall, Colin Creevy motioned them over to some seats he had saved. Harry lowered himself down very carefully; he felt like someone had beaten him over the weekend.
"Feeling better?" Colin asked much too brightly.
"Sure, Colin," Harry said.
"I didn't think Madame Pomfrey was going to let you out of the hospital ward in time for your victory party. You looked pretty bad when Ron first helped you off the field."
"Yeah, I bet," Harry muttered, and turned to his friends. "How can they still all be celebrating? It's Monday."
"I dunno," said Ron, "but it was a really nasty game. Everyone was glad to see you get the Snitch and finish it. Ravenclaw almost beat us. When's class?"
"Twenty minutes, in the greenhouse," said Hermione through gritted teeth. She had her eye on some first years who were acting up at the end of the table.
"Oy, we've got to hurry up!" said Ron. "I need a conclusion for my paper on spindle roots!"
"Let's see it," said Hermione.
Ron dug around in his bag. And then dug some more. "Dammit, I forgot it!"
"Let's go and get it then," said Hermione. "There's something I want to get before Arithmancy anyway."
"Coming, Harry?"
"No, I'll wait here for you, or at the greenhouses," Harry said, picking up some more toast.
"Right." In a couple seconds they were gone. Harry looked around the Hall, and didn't bother making conversation with anyone. Everyone near him was chatting happily away. Harry let his gaze wander.
He wasn't really looking forward to class. The bruises and sores all over his body made it hard to concentrate on anything else. Last night he had asked Hermione to go over his homework, just to make sure it all made sense. He had had to fix to major parts of his History of Magic report alone.
One thing he would admit: the Ravenclaw team had two excellent beaters. He'd been hit by bludgers more times than he could remember. There had been sleet coming down, and harsh winds blowing through the stadium. And three separate times during the game, he and Cho had ran each other into the sides of the pitch. Bad visibility and slippery brooms had made it hard to judge distance and speed, and he smashed into the wall hard every time. Cho had fared a little better because she was lighter, but Ron had nearly had to drag Harry into the infirmary after the game. He had spent the night there with some potions to help him feel better, and to heal the minor internal wounds he received. He'd slept a lot of Sunday as well. Now he simply hurt all over.
With a start Harry realized where he had been staring for at least a minute. At Malfoy, who sat on the facing side of the Slytherin table. Before he looked away, Malfoy turned to look at him. He stared coolly into Harry's gaze. Harry was the one to break the look off, turning his eyes to the other tables and not letting himself go red, in case anyone might be watching.
When it was ten minutes until the beginning of Herbology Harry got up and left the Gryffindor table. The rest of the students with morning class were all trickling out and Harry drifted his way down to the greenhouses with a group of Hufflepuffs. Any other day he would have waited for Ron and Hermione, or walked down with Seamus and Dean, but today was different. The same way that everyone was too cheerful for a Monday morning, he didn't feel like waiting for them.
Herbology passed quickly enough, and then History of Magic finally ended. Harry hadn't seen Malfoy since breakfast, but he did on his way to the Great Hall for lunch. Only a few corridors from the Great Hall, Hermione, Ron and Harry came across Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were just waiting for someone worth bothering.
"Well, well, Potter," said Malfoy. "It's a shame you were able to join us today; I thought maybe that quidditch match had finished you off. I saw you sitting down pretty carefully this morning, just where did that bludger hit you?" He laughed nastily and Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind him.
"Sod off, Malfoy," said Harry.
"What, no comment? Won't you even tell us what you and Chang were doing alone in the infirmary?" Harry had been walking toward the Great Hall. Now he swung around to face Malfoy and reached for his wand. Ron and Hermione grabbed at his elbows and dragged him backwards.
"Don't worry, Malfoy," Ron said. "Your turn at getting beat at quidditch is coming up soon!" The two of them got Harry turned around and pulled him towards lunch.
They were sitting down and choosing their lunches before anyone said anything. "You know, Harry," said Hermione in a careful tone, picking up a roast beef sandwich, "it's good to see you fighting with Malfoy. Not that fighting is good," she added hurriedly.
"Maybe not, but that thing you said to Malfoy last Thursday...that was creepy, Harry," Ron said, looking at anxiously Harry's face.
"Just messing around with him," said Harry, not looking up at either of them.
"Glad to hear it," said Ron. "For a while there I'd thought you'd gone mental."
"Nope," said Harry forcefully.
Ron looked at Hermione's plate. "Hermione, why on earth would you take a roast beef sandwich?!"
"Because, Ron," said Hermione with her all-knowing look, "it's less work for the house elves."
Harry ate his lunch and joked around with Hermione and Ron, and made certain that he didn't look in Malfoy's direction.
Harry got through his day, somehow not really thinking about anything. Nothing felt right all day; he was in a strange mood and Hermione and Ron noticed it and didn't press him too hard for anything. When they were in the library doing homework that evening and Harry had finished only everything that was due the next day, he left. Ron and Hermione let him go. He didn't head straight for Gryffindor tower, but decided to walk around the castle. He wandered from one floor to the next as it got later and later. He didn't stumble across Malfoy until about 9:30.
He came around a corner on a corridor that was little used and wound its way through some the fourth floor of Hogwarts. Harry saw Malfoy sitting on a large window seat, with a lantern in front of him, and parchments and books spread out around him. He had his back against the wall, with his legs stretched comfortably out in front of him. A book was resting on his lap. His head was bent down studiously over his book, with the lantern light shining softly on his hair. He had a look of fierce, careful concentration on his face. He didn't look like Malfoy at all; he looked like Draco.
Harry realized after a moment that he had caught his breath. He let it out again; turned around.
Draco must have heard him, or seen the movement. His voice came softly out of the darkness: "Don't go."
Harry turned around with one eyebrow raised. "No?" he said quietly, cynically.
"No."
Draco said it softly. He was staring at Harry with a strange look in his eyes, waiting to see what he would do next. Harry was waiting too. When he had Draco tell him "don't go," his first reaction was a flash of hope. But it disappeared in an instant, and was replaced by a quiet anger. He wanted to hurt Malfoy and be as sarcastic as possible. But Malfoy's one- word answer had quieted him in an instant. And now he didn't know what to do next.
The silent words now what? passed between them.
"I wouldn't blame you if you did," said Draco, "but I wish you'd stay."
Harry tried to make up his mind; move one direction or another. This meeting was as odd as the rest of the day had been; he wasn't sure what to do. After a minute he stepped forward, and walked over to the window seat. Draco leaned forward to pick up his books and parchment, and tucked his legs under him; he dumped his things onto the floor. Harry sat down carefully, not disturbing anything, not getting too close to Draco. They sat on opposite sides of the window seat, with the lantern between them. Draco kept watching Harry, and Harry didn't know what to think so he looked out the window. The grounds were dark and empty. Clouds passed across a waning moon. Harry couldn't see anything moving but the wind.
"I'm sorry that I've been such an ass," said Draco, looking at Harry's face.
Harry didn't turn from the window. His arms were wrapped around his knees, and now his fists clenched. Draco saw his mouth tighten in the lamplight. But he didn't move, didn't say anything. Draco waited, aching a bit as the silence stretched. It was several minutes before Harry said anything.
"Why are you such an ass?" said Harry, turning abruptly. He was glaring at Draco; he was angry again, and Draco could feel it filling the space between them.
Draco stretched a little and smiled a little, not very happy smile. "I mostly just do stuff like that out of habit. Doesn't that sound pathetic?" Harry just looked at him with derisive look on his face. "I start it before I even think about what I'm doing, and then it's too late to stop in the middle of something.
"I don't want to back down. I don't want people to start saying things about me: Draco can't keep up with Gryffindors anymore, Malfoy's lost his touch. Making hell for you, Ron and Hermione is about all my reputation's based on." Draco's face twisted with bitterness.
"I don't know about that. Most people I know think you're just nasty in general. Do you even like saying all those things about us?"
"I thought that maybe if I kept giving you a hard time no one would notice what I really thought about you. It would give me a good reason to stare at you, and no one would suspect anything." Draco tried to keep his eyes on Harry's face. Something made it important to look at Harry for as long as he could, even if it was one of the hardest things he had ever done.
Harry, on the other hand, could not face Draco much at all. He squimed and his face flushed a little. "You know," he said a little impulsively, "people know you for your quidditch too."
"Thanks, I'm relieved," said Draco dryly. He looked a little closer at Harry. "You're blushing. I do believe it's something I've said. You know," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning forward just a bit, "I'm not the only one who finds excuses to look at you. You're a pretty cute guy."
Harry flushed even more. "Yeah, well, you're not so bad yourself," he said quickly to cover it up. "You're probably one of the hottest guys in the school."
"Probably?! One of?!" Draco acted shocked and offended. "I can't imagine there being any doubt in you're mind that I am the hottest guy in this school."
"What about Zabini?"
"He's all right I suppose, if you go for that kind of thing."
"David Farren."
"Too much attitude."
"Lee Jordan."
"Cute, but not hot."
Harry held back a snort. "Justin Finch-Fletchley?" Before he could stop himself, a laugh burst out.
Draco had a look of mock revulsion on his face. "Him?! My god, no, he's much too straight!"
"Well, you're definitely the hottest prefect," said Harry pretending to think about it, "but Matthew Shan definitely has the better body."
"You must be joking! That pasty seventh year? I don't believe it. Besides, there's just an empty head floating around on those shoulders. With me, you get the body and the brains."
"What an ego," said Harry, laughing. He looked Draco straight in the eye for almost the first time they had been sitting there. "Weren't we just fighting?"
"Yep," Draco said, leaning back comfortably. "Must be true love."
Harry snorted, "You've been reading too many fairy tales."
"I always liked fairy tales. They always end the way everyone wants them too. I haven't had many chances at happy endings." The grin faded from Draco's face; he looked somberly across at Harry. "I don't think you have either."
Harry's face crumpled. His breath rasped into his chest. Draco, looking concerned, scooted over and tried to pull the other boy into his arms. Harry flinched away, and resisted his hold. But he didn't move away when Draco settled on arm around his shoulders. Draco pulled them just a little closer together. He looked at Harry's face and was surprised to see a tear running down it. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Harry," Draco whispered.
Harry brushed roughly at the tear. "You didn't, it's not you," he said thickly. "I...I..." Draco waited patiently. "It's just that Sirius didn't get a happy ending. He didn't even get a chance at one, and I get to go on living." Harry broke down just a little more, though he was trying hard not to cry.
Draco's insides were clenched together, but he kept his body relaxed. He stroked Harry's hair, and kept an open look on his face.
"I'm sorry," said Harry. "I don't mean to cry, I just...I haven't cried very much over him. I shouldn't cry. I just..."
"You should cry," said Draco firmly. "If you don't grieve, you'll just hurt yourself more by keeping it inside. I've cried lots of times over my father."
Harry stared at him. "Your father...your father helped...your dad..." he tried to say, but he couldn't. His face was flushed and blotchy red from his small bout of tears.
"Yes, my father was a part of the group that killed Sirius," Draco said.
"And you cried over him, when the Ministry caught him?!" Harry said explosively. He pulled away from Draco, his whole body rigid and shaking.
"Not when the Ministry caught him," said Draco heavily. "Lots of times before and since, though."
Harry looked at him. "Why?"
Draco looked at the wall across the corridor. "I've seen him do all kinds of terrible things. I've seen him hurt a lot of people. I've watched learn all those dark spells. I've seen him carry out his Master's orders. He's asked me...." Draco broke off. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "Let's just say he's given me plenty of things to cry about."
Harry was watching him. Draco stared back. They both looked pretty shaken up. "I can't believe you just said that," said Harry. Draco shrugged. Harry thought back on Draco's speech. "His master's orders?" he asked.
"Only his," said Draco. "I'm not a Death Eater, Harry." He pushed up the left sleeve of his robes, showed his arm to Harry. Harry looked it over; touched his fingers to Draco's skin. Draco put his right hand over Harry's. "You see? I'm not a Death Eater and I never will be."
"But, your father...." Harry was staring at their hands.
"Hush," said Draco firmly, but quietly. "I don't want to talk about my father." They were close, and it was warm in their corner, but Draco doubted he was the only one who was uncomfortable.
"Why don't you want to talk about your father?" Harry asked softly.
"I will, some other time. I just can't right now." Draco blew his breath out. He scooted back so he could lean against his side of the window seat, and looked across at Harry. "This is a really exhausting conversation, you know that?"
"I've noticed," said Harry, leaning back himself.
They sat not saying anything at all. Harry's attention drifted back to the window, outside of which, nothing was going on at all. He jumped a few minutes later when Draco said, "Do you mind if I get my stuff out again? I just have one essay left for tomorrow."
Harry turned back to him. "Sure," he said, contentedly. Draco smiled back at him. He pulled a parchment and ink out of his bag, and opened up one of his books. Harry turned back to the window. He let his eyes and his mind glaze over while the sound of Draco's scratching quill filled their section of the corridor.
When Harry came back to himself, things looked much the same way they did when he had tuned them out. He turned his head to look at Draco when he realized the sounds of the quill had stopped. Draco was smiling at him; his hand was still above his parchment.
"What did I do?" Harry asked.
"I couldn't tell if you were dozing or not, so I left you alone," said Draco.
"I think I am getting tired." Harry got up and stretched.
"We've been here for ages," said Draco, "I'm not surprised."
"I don't think I can sit here with you any longer. I really want to go to bed."
"That's fine," said Draco. "We'll see each other tomorrow. Then again, you might want to avoid me during the day. I'm not so good at holding myself back, and I'm sick of hurting you."
"Wasn't that a fairy tale too? The child who was a demon during the day and transformed at night?"
Draco laughed. "Yeah, didn't you know that story was based on me?" He looked up at Harry. "How are you going to say good night?"
Harry was speechless. He stared down at Draco, tried to think of something to say. "I...I...oh, what the hell." He bent down, cupped Draco's face in his hands, and kissed him on the mouth. It was a short, very chaste kiss.
Draco ran his tongue over his lip as he looked up at Harry. "Not bad. How many people have you kissed?"
"You're the second," said Harry, a little breathless.
"I'm honored. Now try again, more like this." Draco pulled their heads together. Lips met lips, tongue met tongue, for a much more satisfying kiss. Harry pulled back first, and Draco let him go. Harry was breathing heavily, and he looked a little scared.
"Good night, Draco," he said. Draco didn't say anything, just smiled at him. Harry turned to go; began walking down the corridor.
"Good night, Sleeping Beauty," Draco called after him. He couldn't keep a happy grin off his face as he bent over the end of his essay.
A/N: Whoo-hoo! It worked, I'm Happy!!! :D I just realized that I've ended every chapter with Draco. -
I would also like to say that I wrote most of this chapter on my laptop while laying on my bed, and my body was like this -- most of the time. I hope everyone apprieciates what I went through for this. XD
A short thanks list bcuz I don't like taking up room: unmei3---your stuff rocks! Kaylie---everyone agrees with you so I have. Maggoe---thanks chica! Bad-Azz-SlytherinChaos---yuppers. SilentShadow007---okey dokey TURNER---I can't tell yet!! Siren of the Darknessflame---Not yet, we need suspense! yaoi-is-gay-13---not telling yet :) Rena---thanks, I'm working on it. kat---it won't be too sad, I'm working on updates! cardboardboxkid---thank you very much ladies and gentleman, I try. The book details are always in my head. ;) thanks EVERYONE!
Chapter 3:
Breakfast in the Great Hall Monday morning was much too raucous in Harry, Hermione and Ron's opinion. Everyone was in too good a mood. Gryffindor had absolutely stomped Ravenclaw on the Saturday match although it had been a very foul game.
When the three of them walked into the Great Hall, Colin Creevy motioned them over to some seats he had saved. Harry lowered himself down very carefully; he felt like someone had beaten him over the weekend.
"Feeling better?" Colin asked much too brightly.
"Sure, Colin," Harry said.
"I didn't think Madame Pomfrey was going to let you out of the hospital ward in time for your victory party. You looked pretty bad when Ron first helped you off the field."
"Yeah, I bet," Harry muttered, and turned to his friends. "How can they still all be celebrating? It's Monday."
"I dunno," said Ron, "but it was a really nasty game. Everyone was glad to see you get the Snitch and finish it. Ravenclaw almost beat us. When's class?"
"Twenty minutes, in the greenhouse," said Hermione through gritted teeth. She had her eye on some first years who were acting up at the end of the table.
"Oy, we've got to hurry up!" said Ron. "I need a conclusion for my paper on spindle roots!"
"Let's see it," said Hermione.
Ron dug around in his bag. And then dug some more. "Dammit, I forgot it!"
"Let's go and get it then," said Hermione. "There's something I want to get before Arithmancy anyway."
"Coming, Harry?"
"No, I'll wait here for you, or at the greenhouses," Harry said, picking up some more toast.
"Right." In a couple seconds they were gone. Harry looked around the Hall, and didn't bother making conversation with anyone. Everyone near him was chatting happily away. Harry let his gaze wander.
He wasn't really looking forward to class. The bruises and sores all over his body made it hard to concentrate on anything else. Last night he had asked Hermione to go over his homework, just to make sure it all made sense. He had had to fix to major parts of his History of Magic report alone.
One thing he would admit: the Ravenclaw team had two excellent beaters. He'd been hit by bludgers more times than he could remember. There had been sleet coming down, and harsh winds blowing through the stadium. And three separate times during the game, he and Cho had ran each other into the sides of the pitch. Bad visibility and slippery brooms had made it hard to judge distance and speed, and he smashed into the wall hard every time. Cho had fared a little better because she was lighter, but Ron had nearly had to drag Harry into the infirmary after the game. He had spent the night there with some potions to help him feel better, and to heal the minor internal wounds he received. He'd slept a lot of Sunday as well. Now he simply hurt all over.
With a start Harry realized where he had been staring for at least a minute. At Malfoy, who sat on the facing side of the Slytherin table. Before he looked away, Malfoy turned to look at him. He stared coolly into Harry's gaze. Harry was the one to break the look off, turning his eyes to the other tables and not letting himself go red, in case anyone might be watching.
When it was ten minutes until the beginning of Herbology Harry got up and left the Gryffindor table. The rest of the students with morning class were all trickling out and Harry drifted his way down to the greenhouses with a group of Hufflepuffs. Any other day he would have waited for Ron and Hermione, or walked down with Seamus and Dean, but today was different. The same way that everyone was too cheerful for a Monday morning, he didn't feel like waiting for them.
Herbology passed quickly enough, and then History of Magic finally ended. Harry hadn't seen Malfoy since breakfast, but he did on his way to the Great Hall for lunch. Only a few corridors from the Great Hall, Hermione, Ron and Harry came across Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were just waiting for someone worth bothering.
"Well, well, Potter," said Malfoy. "It's a shame you were able to join us today; I thought maybe that quidditch match had finished you off. I saw you sitting down pretty carefully this morning, just where did that bludger hit you?" He laughed nastily and Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind him.
"Sod off, Malfoy," said Harry.
"What, no comment? Won't you even tell us what you and Chang were doing alone in the infirmary?" Harry had been walking toward the Great Hall. Now he swung around to face Malfoy and reached for his wand. Ron and Hermione grabbed at his elbows and dragged him backwards.
"Don't worry, Malfoy," Ron said. "Your turn at getting beat at quidditch is coming up soon!" The two of them got Harry turned around and pulled him towards lunch.
They were sitting down and choosing their lunches before anyone said anything. "You know, Harry," said Hermione in a careful tone, picking up a roast beef sandwich, "it's good to see you fighting with Malfoy. Not that fighting is good," she added hurriedly.
"Maybe not, but that thing you said to Malfoy last Thursday...that was creepy, Harry," Ron said, looking at anxiously Harry's face.
"Just messing around with him," said Harry, not looking up at either of them.
"Glad to hear it," said Ron. "For a while there I'd thought you'd gone mental."
"Nope," said Harry forcefully.
Ron looked at Hermione's plate. "Hermione, why on earth would you take a roast beef sandwich?!"
"Because, Ron," said Hermione with her all-knowing look, "it's less work for the house elves."
Harry ate his lunch and joked around with Hermione and Ron, and made certain that he didn't look in Malfoy's direction.
Harry got through his day, somehow not really thinking about anything. Nothing felt right all day; he was in a strange mood and Hermione and Ron noticed it and didn't press him too hard for anything. When they were in the library doing homework that evening and Harry had finished only everything that was due the next day, he left. Ron and Hermione let him go. He didn't head straight for Gryffindor tower, but decided to walk around the castle. He wandered from one floor to the next as it got later and later. He didn't stumble across Malfoy until about 9:30.
He came around a corner on a corridor that was little used and wound its way through some the fourth floor of Hogwarts. Harry saw Malfoy sitting on a large window seat, with a lantern in front of him, and parchments and books spread out around him. He had his back against the wall, with his legs stretched comfortably out in front of him. A book was resting on his lap. His head was bent down studiously over his book, with the lantern light shining softly on his hair. He had a look of fierce, careful concentration on his face. He didn't look like Malfoy at all; he looked like Draco.
Harry realized after a moment that he had caught his breath. He let it out again; turned around.
Draco must have heard him, or seen the movement. His voice came softly out of the darkness: "Don't go."
Harry turned around with one eyebrow raised. "No?" he said quietly, cynically.
"No."
Draco said it softly. He was staring at Harry with a strange look in his eyes, waiting to see what he would do next. Harry was waiting too. When he had Draco tell him "don't go," his first reaction was a flash of hope. But it disappeared in an instant, and was replaced by a quiet anger. He wanted to hurt Malfoy and be as sarcastic as possible. But Malfoy's one- word answer had quieted him in an instant. And now he didn't know what to do next.
The silent words now what? passed between them.
"I wouldn't blame you if you did," said Draco, "but I wish you'd stay."
Harry tried to make up his mind; move one direction or another. This meeting was as odd as the rest of the day had been; he wasn't sure what to do. After a minute he stepped forward, and walked over to the window seat. Draco leaned forward to pick up his books and parchment, and tucked his legs under him; he dumped his things onto the floor. Harry sat down carefully, not disturbing anything, not getting too close to Draco. They sat on opposite sides of the window seat, with the lantern between them. Draco kept watching Harry, and Harry didn't know what to think so he looked out the window. The grounds were dark and empty. Clouds passed across a waning moon. Harry couldn't see anything moving but the wind.
"I'm sorry that I've been such an ass," said Draco, looking at Harry's face.
Harry didn't turn from the window. His arms were wrapped around his knees, and now his fists clenched. Draco saw his mouth tighten in the lamplight. But he didn't move, didn't say anything. Draco waited, aching a bit as the silence stretched. It was several minutes before Harry said anything.
"Why are you such an ass?" said Harry, turning abruptly. He was glaring at Draco; he was angry again, and Draco could feel it filling the space between them.
Draco stretched a little and smiled a little, not very happy smile. "I mostly just do stuff like that out of habit. Doesn't that sound pathetic?" Harry just looked at him with derisive look on his face. "I start it before I even think about what I'm doing, and then it's too late to stop in the middle of something.
"I don't want to back down. I don't want people to start saying things about me: Draco can't keep up with Gryffindors anymore, Malfoy's lost his touch. Making hell for you, Ron and Hermione is about all my reputation's based on." Draco's face twisted with bitterness.
"I don't know about that. Most people I know think you're just nasty in general. Do you even like saying all those things about us?"
"I thought that maybe if I kept giving you a hard time no one would notice what I really thought about you. It would give me a good reason to stare at you, and no one would suspect anything." Draco tried to keep his eyes on Harry's face. Something made it important to look at Harry for as long as he could, even if it was one of the hardest things he had ever done.
Harry, on the other hand, could not face Draco much at all. He squimed and his face flushed a little. "You know," he said a little impulsively, "people know you for your quidditch too."
"Thanks, I'm relieved," said Draco dryly. He looked a little closer at Harry. "You're blushing. I do believe it's something I've said. You know," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning forward just a bit, "I'm not the only one who finds excuses to look at you. You're a pretty cute guy."
Harry flushed even more. "Yeah, well, you're not so bad yourself," he said quickly to cover it up. "You're probably one of the hottest guys in the school."
"Probably?! One of?!" Draco acted shocked and offended. "I can't imagine there being any doubt in you're mind that I am the hottest guy in this school."
"What about Zabini?"
"He's all right I suppose, if you go for that kind of thing."
"David Farren."
"Too much attitude."
"Lee Jordan."
"Cute, but not hot."
Harry held back a snort. "Justin Finch-Fletchley?" Before he could stop himself, a laugh burst out.
Draco had a look of mock revulsion on his face. "Him?! My god, no, he's much too straight!"
"Well, you're definitely the hottest prefect," said Harry pretending to think about it, "but Matthew Shan definitely has the better body."
"You must be joking! That pasty seventh year? I don't believe it. Besides, there's just an empty head floating around on those shoulders. With me, you get the body and the brains."
"What an ego," said Harry, laughing. He looked Draco straight in the eye for almost the first time they had been sitting there. "Weren't we just fighting?"
"Yep," Draco said, leaning back comfortably. "Must be true love."
Harry snorted, "You've been reading too many fairy tales."
"I always liked fairy tales. They always end the way everyone wants them too. I haven't had many chances at happy endings." The grin faded from Draco's face; he looked somberly across at Harry. "I don't think you have either."
Harry's face crumpled. His breath rasped into his chest. Draco, looking concerned, scooted over and tried to pull the other boy into his arms. Harry flinched away, and resisted his hold. But he didn't move away when Draco settled on arm around his shoulders. Draco pulled them just a little closer together. He looked at Harry's face and was surprised to see a tear running down it. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Harry," Draco whispered.
Harry brushed roughly at the tear. "You didn't, it's not you," he said thickly. "I...I..." Draco waited patiently. "It's just that Sirius didn't get a happy ending. He didn't even get a chance at one, and I get to go on living." Harry broke down just a little more, though he was trying hard not to cry.
Draco's insides were clenched together, but he kept his body relaxed. He stroked Harry's hair, and kept an open look on his face.
"I'm sorry," said Harry. "I don't mean to cry, I just...I haven't cried very much over him. I shouldn't cry. I just..."
"You should cry," said Draco firmly. "If you don't grieve, you'll just hurt yourself more by keeping it inside. I've cried lots of times over my father."
Harry stared at him. "Your father...your father helped...your dad..." he tried to say, but he couldn't. His face was flushed and blotchy red from his small bout of tears.
"Yes, my father was a part of the group that killed Sirius," Draco said.
"And you cried over him, when the Ministry caught him?!" Harry said explosively. He pulled away from Draco, his whole body rigid and shaking.
"Not when the Ministry caught him," said Draco heavily. "Lots of times before and since, though."
Harry looked at him. "Why?"
Draco looked at the wall across the corridor. "I've seen him do all kinds of terrible things. I've seen him hurt a lot of people. I've watched learn all those dark spells. I've seen him carry out his Master's orders. He's asked me...." Draco broke off. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "Let's just say he's given me plenty of things to cry about."
Harry was watching him. Draco stared back. They both looked pretty shaken up. "I can't believe you just said that," said Harry. Draco shrugged. Harry thought back on Draco's speech. "His master's orders?" he asked.
"Only his," said Draco. "I'm not a Death Eater, Harry." He pushed up the left sleeve of his robes, showed his arm to Harry. Harry looked it over; touched his fingers to Draco's skin. Draco put his right hand over Harry's. "You see? I'm not a Death Eater and I never will be."
"But, your father...." Harry was staring at their hands.
"Hush," said Draco firmly, but quietly. "I don't want to talk about my father." They were close, and it was warm in their corner, but Draco doubted he was the only one who was uncomfortable.
"Why don't you want to talk about your father?" Harry asked softly.
"I will, some other time. I just can't right now." Draco blew his breath out. He scooted back so he could lean against his side of the window seat, and looked across at Harry. "This is a really exhausting conversation, you know that?"
"I've noticed," said Harry, leaning back himself.
They sat not saying anything at all. Harry's attention drifted back to the window, outside of which, nothing was going on at all. He jumped a few minutes later when Draco said, "Do you mind if I get my stuff out again? I just have one essay left for tomorrow."
Harry turned back to him. "Sure," he said, contentedly. Draco smiled back at him. He pulled a parchment and ink out of his bag, and opened up one of his books. Harry turned back to the window. He let his eyes and his mind glaze over while the sound of Draco's scratching quill filled their section of the corridor.
When Harry came back to himself, things looked much the same way they did when he had tuned them out. He turned his head to look at Draco when he realized the sounds of the quill had stopped. Draco was smiling at him; his hand was still above his parchment.
"What did I do?" Harry asked.
"I couldn't tell if you were dozing or not, so I left you alone," said Draco.
"I think I am getting tired." Harry got up and stretched.
"We've been here for ages," said Draco, "I'm not surprised."
"I don't think I can sit here with you any longer. I really want to go to bed."
"That's fine," said Draco. "We'll see each other tomorrow. Then again, you might want to avoid me during the day. I'm not so good at holding myself back, and I'm sick of hurting you."
"Wasn't that a fairy tale too? The child who was a demon during the day and transformed at night?"
Draco laughed. "Yeah, didn't you know that story was based on me?" He looked up at Harry. "How are you going to say good night?"
Harry was speechless. He stared down at Draco, tried to think of something to say. "I...I...oh, what the hell." He bent down, cupped Draco's face in his hands, and kissed him on the mouth. It was a short, very chaste kiss.
Draco ran his tongue over his lip as he looked up at Harry. "Not bad. How many people have you kissed?"
"You're the second," said Harry, a little breathless.
"I'm honored. Now try again, more like this." Draco pulled their heads together. Lips met lips, tongue met tongue, for a much more satisfying kiss. Harry pulled back first, and Draco let him go. Harry was breathing heavily, and he looked a little scared.
"Good night, Draco," he said. Draco didn't say anything, just smiled at him. Harry turned to go; began walking down the corridor.
"Good night, Sleeping Beauty," Draco called after him. He couldn't keep a happy grin off his face as he bent over the end of his essay.
A/N: Whoo-hoo! It worked, I'm Happy!!! :D I just realized that I've ended every chapter with Draco. -