Then Draco pulled away some, locking eyes with the Griffindor.
His silver eyes blatantly laughed at the boy as held up his comb that had been resting behind Harry. He gave Harry a particularly wicked smirk then started walking towards the door. In a very matter-of-factly tone over his shoulder Draco said, "Looks like I got you pretty bad this time, Potter".
With that, the blonde disappeared from the room and seconds later a group of girls giggling hysterically could be heard in the hallway. Harry stood where he was, too bewildered to move.
What...just...happened?
Finally he remembered he was supposed to be at dinner soon, so he hurriedly gathered his things together and turned to leave. As he placed his hand on the brass door handle to exit, he looked at Draco's green shirt still crumpled on the floor. After a short pause he walked over and retrieved it off the cool tile. The material was incredibly soft, and Draco's delicious musky scent lay deep in its threads.
You're smelling his clothes!
Harry, slightly embarrassed at himself, quickly drew his wand out and, aiming it at the tear in the shirt, said "imendicus materill". The material seemed to melt back together and within seconds Draco's shirt was as good as new. Hermione had taught Harry this useful spell after their third year, so Harry wouldn't have to buy new clothes after every battle he came across. He wasn't surprised Draco didn't know it, since the boy seemed to have a new wardrobe every couple of months. What shocked him was that such a polished stuck-up git like Draco, actually knew and seemed to like the muggle art of sewing. Harry couldn't help but snicker softly as he remembered the sight of Draco sitting on the floor tediously working with needle and thread. He clutched the shirt tight in his hand and headed out the door back to his room.
Harry tossed his dirty clothes onto his four post bed. Looking down at the shirt still in his grasp, a curiosity came over him. Without a second thought he whipped off his gray shirt, and began putting Draco's shirt on. His arms slid into the sleeves with no trouble, and the material felt exquisite on his skin. He began buttoning up the shirt from the bottom.
As he got higher the shirt started pulling tighter around him. The top three buttons were a lost cause against his broad chest, so Harry left them open, exposing most of his chest and his entire neck. He turned to the window close to his bed to examine his reflection. The look was quite pleasing to him. With his dark loose jeans and the intricately cut shirt which color brought out his eyes blazing in all their green glory, Harry thought he looked quite smashing. It was defiantly a change from wearing his fat cousin Dudley's old clothes that were much too big for him, as he had for so many years.
As he ran his hands down the front, trying to smooth out the crinkles in the shirt, Ron came in through the door.
"Mind speeding it up a bit Harry? I'm hungry." Ron pushed.
"You're always hungry Ron." Harry replied with a grin.
Ron rolled his eyes, "Just c'mon. And you might want to wear something other than that. People might get the wrong idea about you."
"What does that mean?" Harry asked as Ron was turning to leave.
Ron answered as he left the room, "You look like a lil' nancy boy."
Harry slightly frowned and began to unbutton the shirt.
It was a typical Sunday evening in the Great Hall. All around the room the students held lively conversations about events that occurred over the weekend. As Harry entered and walked towards his usual spot at the griffyndor table between Hermione and Ron, he received many stares. The harsh whispers that followed as he passed were not a rare thing to Harry. Though this was maybe the first time they weren't talking about the vague rumors they'd heard, but the visible injuries he had. Harry knew within a few hours, he'd over hear some ludicrous stories about what probably happened to him.
He wondered if Draco had received the same treatment coming in. Glancing over at the Slytherin table, he picked out the platinum blonde instantly. The boy had been watching Harry and when their eyes connected there was a pang of surprise, followed by exchanged looks of burning hatred. Draco had combed his ear length hair down somewhat over his face, to conceal his wound. His silver eyes peered at Harry through white gold strands. The silky gray button up shirt he wore made them even more vivid. Harry involuntarily shivered, and retreated his stare. He flopped down at the table and was greeted by concerned looks from his two best friends. "Harry" Hermione started, "You're not going to do anything rash to Malfoy are you?"
"Not unless he deserved it." Harry answered bitterly, "why?"
"I've never seen so much tension between you two. I mean I know you hate each other, but now its like any second you're gonna rip each others throats out."
Or rip each other's clothes off...
The sudden voice in the back of Harry's mind made his eyes widen with shock for a moment. That was the last thought he ever thought of thinking.
He turned his eyes towards the Slytherin table. Draco seemed to have been engaged in a conversation with Goyle, but as soon as Harry looked at him, he met the boy's stare. Their eyes were locked, both keeping the expression of indifference.
Draco tried to keep his eyes drained of emotion, but a dim, unfamiliar, twinkle started in them. The blonde, whether he realized it or not, ran his tongue over his lips. Harry mimicked him half unknowingly, his mouth was getting dry.
It seemed to become a battle of endurance. Neither boy appeared to have the strength to break away, as if there was something to prove. The rest of the student body around them seemed to melt into a blur...
"Harry!" Ron said, snapping his fingers in front of the boys face. Harry blinked several times and looked at the red head dazedly.
Ron chuckled, "wake up mate. Sheeze, you need more sleep."
Hermione was silent, giving Harry a suspicious glare.
"Ummm....I think I'm going to head over to the hospital wing. I'm not feeling so well." Harry mumbled as he rose from his seat.
"Alright then" Hermione said slowly, still giving Harry the look, "but don't forget you have potions homework to finish for tomorrow, so don't be away too long."
Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "Don't worry Hermione, I won't" And with that he strolled out of the room.
Hermione leaned into Ron and said in a low tone, "Something's up with him."
"Honestly Herm', you worry too much. Harry just has moods like this sometime, no big deal."
"When has it NOT been a big deal when he acts like that?" she hissed.
Ron sighed, "Alright, I'll talk to him tonight"
Hermione turned back forward, not very settled, and picked at her food.
Ron broke the brief silence between them and said, "For now, how about we go start on our potions essays."
"I already finished mine" Hermione answered dully.
Ron rested his chin on her shoulder and looked at her with large blue puppy dog eyes. "Well then, how about we go start on MY potions essay?"
Hermione sighed with a grin and rolled her eyes. Shrugging him off, she ruffled his hair and then rose from her seat. "Alright I'll meet you in the library."
"Well" Ron started, and then choked, looking down, slightly nervous.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"I was wondering if it'd be more comfortable...in my room." He bit his lip and looked up sheepishly at her.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Ummm...ok" she said with a look that showed she wasn't sure what he was playing at, "see you in a bit."
As she walked away, Ron Weasly turned back around to finish his breakfast, now with a huge smile on his face.
Harry didn't go to the hospital wing as he said he was. Instead he sat outside in the cool fall air under his favorite tree by the lake. The sun was setting in a blur of red, orange, and lavender, and the waxing moon was on the rise behind him. A gentle breeze swept his hair back gently and pulled the first leaves of a fast approaching fall from the tree he was sitting under.
As a deep red leaf floated down from a branch onto his lap, Harry couldn't help but think that out of all his years at Hogwarts, his sixth was turning out to be the strangest. With his past years of knowing mostly what to expect, being the fact that Voldemort was hot on his heels and once again this year he'd have to face him. Constant danger and threat was something Harry had sadly become accustomed to, but he'd never experienced what he was going through right now. He wasn't even sure what he was experiencing!
Harry sighed and rose from his spot as the sun finally hid itself behind the distant trees. Brushing his robes off, he turned around and headed back to the Gryffindor tower to see his friends.
Meanwhile...
"No Ron, it's still not completely correct." Hermione said in a bored tone, pointing to a paragraph on Ron's parchment.
"Oh come on 'Mione!" Ron whined, "What am I missing?"
Hermione responded in an exhausted tone, "If you actually read your potions book you'd know that womardreg root is for memory and premonition potions, no where does it say anything about it being used for telepathy."
"well why would I need a potions book when I have you." Ron teased.
"Is that all I mean to you?" Hermione puffed up, her face quickly turning red, "Just some human encyclopedia you can get all the answers from?!"
She slammed her book shut and moved to get up from Ron's bed, where they both had been laying with papers and books around them. "I swear Ron, sometimes I really can't stand you..."
Ron grabbed Hermione's arm before she could completely stand and pulled her back down on the bed. He quickly kissed her and pulled away to see her reaction.
"sorry" he grinned, "you're just so cute when you're angry."
Hermione froze wide eyed for a second, then with a grin wrapped her arms around Ron's neck, returning the kiss three fold.
Harry sauntered towards his dormitory, not at all looking forward to tomorrow.
With back to back Potions, and then detention with Malfoy, it was not going to be a pleasant Monday. His mind wandered, and he wasn't even concentrating on where he was going, yet somehow his feet got him back to the fat lady's portrait.
"Good evening dear. Password?" the painting spoke.
"Fizzing whizzbees."
The frame swung open and Harry stepped in. As he entered the common room, Ron and Hermione were no where in sight. Harry could have sworn Ron had his potions essay to do as well, since both had been putting off the work as usual. With a shrug of his shoulders, and the assumption that they were in the library, Harry ascended up the stairs to his room. As he entered, he noticed all the lights had been extinguished in the room.
Harry figured he was alone and moved to turn a light on next to his bed but stopped before doing so, when a distinct moan came from the direction of his best friend's bed.
The scarlet curtain was pulled tight around Ron's bed, but Harry knew he never went to sleep this early. Someone was behind the drapes though, for Harry heard movement with in.
He must be sick, I'd better check on him.
Harry wrapped his fingers around the edge of the curtain and pulled it back. A female scream sounded and he was hit hard on the head. Harry stumbled back and pulled out his wand. "Lumos" he grunted, and a bright light emmitted from the tip of his wand.
Out of the darkness appeared the slightly disheveled forms of his two best friends. Hermione rolled quickly off the bed and crouched down, her brown eyes peeking above the edge of the other side. A shirtless Ron was sitting up in the bed, frantically smoothing out his hair. Harry took a few more steps back, unable to speak.
Ron reached over to turn on a lamp next to him, then quickly shuffled off the bed. He stood up and looked around for his shirt, which had been thrown on top of his trunk. As he pulled it back on Hermione kept crouched next to the side of the bed as she re buttoned her purple blouse. Ron turned to Harry with a nervous look, trying to find the words to explain.
"What's going on here?" Harry stammered, voice slightly cracking.
Hermione, finished with pulling herself back together, walked over to the two.
"Well it's a funny story really..." She said uneasily, "Ron you tell it." And with that she dashed out of the room. They both watched her go then looked at each other.
"I love her Harry." Ron said meekly, looking as if he was waiting for Harry to strike him. Harry pulled himself together, though he knew inside what this all meant. He rested a hand on Ron's shoulder, "I know you do Ron, and I'm really happy for you two."
"Really?"
"Really."
"N-Nothing's gonna change with us you know."
"Yeah...I know."
Harry sat in a red leather arm chair next to the fireplace in the common room, looking over his paper that he had just finished. Ron sheepishly said he'd finish his work up in their room as he smoothed out his essay that got rolled on a hundred times during his and Hermione's little rendez vous.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione sneak back upstairs to Ron. He figured she didn't stop to talk to him for fear that he was upset with them.
Content with his usual mediocre potions essay, Harry stood up and stretched. He looked at the stairs, then at the dorm entrance. Not desiring to walk in on another snogging session (or worse), Harry went back through the portrait hole and decided to visit a friend.
Curfew was at 11 o'clock so Harry had an hour or so to visit Hagrid. He banged on the door to the man's hut. Inside, Fang barked excitedly and scratched at the door but other than that there was no other sound. After a few minutes of waiting for Hagrid to answer, Harry figured he was on school business. He turned around and sulked back towards the castle.
Never had he felt so alone. As he treaded up the hill a pain built up inside him. He had assured Ron he was fine with him and Hermione's budding romance, but the truth was he couldn't be more pissed.
Now he was the third wheel, destined to sit alone on Saturday nights while his friends were in another room doing things he couldn't bare to think about. Harry knew the two would eventually end up together for years, he just wished it hadn't been now, when things were so complicated.
He sighed and leaned against the outer stone wall of the school, not wanting to go inside just yet. After patting on his pocket he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He had stole them from Dudley the past summer just to piss him off. Harry was not an avid smoker by any means, but when he felt like he was losing his control over things a cigarette seemed to help a little. Using a spark from his wand to light it, he rested against the cold solid wall. He focused on the clouds of smoke he exhaled, trying to see shapes in the midst of swirls.
"Smoking's bad for you Potter, didn't you know?" An icy voice drawled near Harry.
He turned to meet Draco's sober face. The boy leaned against the wall next to him and lit one up as well. Harry rolled his eyes and looked away. The two boys stood in reserved silence for a good while.
"So Potter, never seen you out here before, what gives?" Draco asked finally.
"That's none of your business now is it Malfoy?" Harry said coldly.
Draco shrugged and took a drag, looking away, "Fine, whatever."
After a couple minutes, the need to vent his emotions built up within Harry until it came tumbling out.
"I walked in on Ron and Hermione, if you know what I mean. I just found out they're together. I'm the third wheel now, that's for sure. What the hell am I supposed to do now every time they want to be alone besides come out here?" Harry said, a bit louder than normal, then added with a sigh, "how could they do this to me?". He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stared off into the distance.
"So weasel and the mud blood are together at last... and scar head's all alone." Draco smirked.
Harry turned to him with a murderous look so severe it made Draco cringe a little inside.
"Oh come on Potter, don't be such a child. All you Griffindor are chummy with each other, you got plenty of other friends I bet."
Harry gave Draco a questioning look, "Malfoy, was that an attempt to make me feel better?"
"what?" Draco said with an overly disgusted look, "no of course not. I just don't like hanging around people who bitch and moan about such trivial things. If anything I'd take your problem as a queue to find some real friends."
"Are you going to give me the same offer you gave me that first year of school on the train?" Harry asked in a bored tone.
"You blew it that time, I don't make the same offer twice." Draco said haughtily as he took a final drag and flicked his cigarette to the ground. By the look on his face Harry could tell Draco was expecting him to start pleading for his friendship.
What a cocky bastard.
"I wouldn't accept even if you asked a hundred times." Harry retorted coldly.
Draco turned sharp silver eyes onto Harry. The Slytherin's face showed pure hate, but in his eyes was a flash of hurt. Harry waited for the blow of a biting remark from Draco, but the boy turned and stormed away, leaving Harry feeling like the bad guy for the first time in all of his confrontations with him. With a frustrated sigh he followed far behind Draco, back into the school.
When Harry reached the door to his room he knocked first.
"S'all right Harry." Ron said from inside.
Harry came in, his eyes averting Ron's and he headed straight for his bed. He flopped down on it and rolled on his side so he was not facing Ron.
"Can we talk?" Ron asked and started to walk over to Harry's bed.
"Not tonight, I don't feel like it." Harry said in a dull tone.
Ron's footsteps stopped and turned back around.
"I guess...good night then." Ron said uncomfortably. He waited for Harry to respond a and when he didn't, Ron slowly pulled the curtains around his bed with a sigh. Harry didn't bother with his, and let himself lay there, bathing in the glow of the waxing moon. He lay there for hours before finally drifting off into a light slumber.