Disclaimer: I like candy and boys snogging.
Chapter Six: About You
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Another hour passed with each boy cautiously trading the facts that were their lives with the other. Both, when retreating to their seperate corners, came off feeling as if a great many things had been left unsaid. Draco, for his part, left that room knowing only that this other was called Harry, that he was searching for something (he would not say what), that he came from the Western Continent across the Great Sea, and one thing that Draco had understood through Harry's staunch refusal to even skirt the subject: in this world, he, like Draco, was alone.
Harry knew that Malfoy would no permit his given name to be known (most likely out of caution, for names had power; Harry had told Malfoy his only for lack of any other), that Malfoy had a strength of Will (the source of power) that Harry had seen long ago in a place he could not recall but never since, that he was a scholar, and that he was the Lord and sole occupant of this vast manor.
They were strangers.
Draco retreated to his library. This boy, the Harry, was unsettling. His power was great, but unrefined and raw as a fork of lightning, and just as dangerously unpredictable. But that wasn't all. His power was being created by some colossal driving force that raged inside his narrow-shouldered chest. (Oh, too narrow, too narrow by far.) Still that was not it. Draco was determined to find out, and he was certain his decaying volumes could give him this piece of the complex human puzzle that now dozed fitfully on a borrowed bed. Draco selected a volume bound in gold-gilt black leather and began to read.
------
When Malfoy left, Harry allowed himself to sing back into the bed with a groan of pain. He had kept up a semblance of alert, pain-free poise while he spoke with Malfoy, finding himself unwilling to expose his own weaknesses; now he could maintain it no longer. Harry's eyes closed, and his mind was free to wander. Why was he here, in this lavish place? As Malfoy had been speaking Harry had discreetly surveyed his surroundings. The predominant features of the decor were emeraled-hued silks and ebony furniture, all against walls of a curious darkness that Harry found himself loathe to touch. Dark decor, indeed. Harry hated it. His own rooms, when he had them, had been gold and crimson, the colours of consuming flames. This place seemed chilled and remote where Harry's had been hot and passionate.
'Much like the young Lord himself,' Harry thought with a grimace. He had never beheld eyes like that, chips of ice where there could been seen withing their circular pools a latticework so complex and beautiful it drew one in and held one there, suspended. Devoid of warmth, of pity, posessing only a clinical fascination that a scholar might have for an interesting specimen. Malfoy was perfectly and exquisitely lovely... too perfect. Harry found himself searching for flaws, and when he failed, Harry hated Malfoy.
Some small noise caught Harry's attention. A clicking sound, like the beak of a bird. Harry's eyes flew open. In his daze, Harry had nearly forgotten Owl-Hedwig. She came now from the high rafters to land near his knees. "Oh, Hedwig," Harry said, holding out his hand. For a moment it looked as if she would scorn him, take off and leave him to himself. But then, she nibbled gently on his fingertips and Harry knew he had been forgiven. Smiling with only his lips, Harry fell asleep.
-----
A strange half-smile played across Draco's mouth. He had found it. The missing piece to Harry's puzzle. He had found Harry's secret.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long, but every time I started to write this chapter, it came out wrong. All's well that ends well, though, eh? Anyway. Chapter seven is going to be the longest chapter yet, and I'm almost done with it... But come on, people! Review! If you don't start reviewing, I may just... just... oh, just review! Also, if you don't know what I'm talking about with Draco's eyes... Staring into people's irises is a hobby of mine (heh), and you know the freckles in people's eyes and stuff... If you have a few light-eyed friends, grab them and stare into their irises. Actually, do it with your dark-eyed friends, too. You'll be rewarded, as it's really very cool-looking.
To my reviewers:
I love you! And Mon2, erm, if you wish! Do whatever you want. 0.o
Chapter Six: About You
--------------
Another hour passed with each boy cautiously trading the facts that were their lives with the other. Both, when retreating to their seperate corners, came off feeling as if a great many things had been left unsaid. Draco, for his part, left that room knowing only that this other was called Harry, that he was searching for something (he would not say what), that he came from the Western Continent across the Great Sea, and one thing that Draco had understood through Harry's staunch refusal to even skirt the subject: in this world, he, like Draco, was alone.
Harry knew that Malfoy would no permit his given name to be known (most likely out of caution, for names had power; Harry had told Malfoy his only for lack of any other), that Malfoy had a strength of Will (the source of power) that Harry had seen long ago in a place he could not recall but never since, that he was a scholar, and that he was the Lord and sole occupant of this vast manor.
They were strangers.
Draco retreated to his library. This boy, the Harry, was unsettling. His power was great, but unrefined and raw as a fork of lightning, and just as dangerously unpredictable. But that wasn't all. His power was being created by some colossal driving force that raged inside his narrow-shouldered chest. (Oh, too narrow, too narrow by far.) Still that was not it. Draco was determined to find out, and he was certain his decaying volumes could give him this piece of the complex human puzzle that now dozed fitfully on a borrowed bed. Draco selected a volume bound in gold-gilt black leather and began to read.
------
When Malfoy left, Harry allowed himself to sing back into the bed with a groan of pain. He had kept up a semblance of alert, pain-free poise while he spoke with Malfoy, finding himself unwilling to expose his own weaknesses; now he could maintain it no longer. Harry's eyes closed, and his mind was free to wander. Why was he here, in this lavish place? As Malfoy had been speaking Harry had discreetly surveyed his surroundings. The predominant features of the decor were emeraled-hued silks and ebony furniture, all against walls of a curious darkness that Harry found himself loathe to touch. Dark decor, indeed. Harry hated it. His own rooms, when he had them, had been gold and crimson, the colours of consuming flames. This place seemed chilled and remote where Harry's had been hot and passionate.
'Much like the young Lord himself,' Harry thought with a grimace. He had never beheld eyes like that, chips of ice where there could been seen withing their circular pools a latticework so complex and beautiful it drew one in and held one there, suspended. Devoid of warmth, of pity, posessing only a clinical fascination that a scholar might have for an interesting specimen. Malfoy was perfectly and exquisitely lovely... too perfect. Harry found himself searching for flaws, and when he failed, Harry hated Malfoy.
Some small noise caught Harry's attention. A clicking sound, like the beak of a bird. Harry's eyes flew open. In his daze, Harry had nearly forgotten Owl-Hedwig. She came now from the high rafters to land near his knees. "Oh, Hedwig," Harry said, holding out his hand. For a moment it looked as if she would scorn him, take off and leave him to himself. But then, she nibbled gently on his fingertips and Harry knew he had been forgiven. Smiling with only his lips, Harry fell asleep.
-----
A strange half-smile played across Draco's mouth. He had found it. The missing piece to Harry's puzzle. He had found Harry's secret.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long, but every time I started to write this chapter, it came out wrong. All's well that ends well, though, eh? Anyway. Chapter seven is going to be the longest chapter yet, and I'm almost done with it... But come on, people! Review! If you don't start reviewing, I may just... just... oh, just review! Also, if you don't know what I'm talking about with Draco's eyes... Staring into people's irises is a hobby of mine (heh), and you know the freckles in people's eyes and stuff... If you have a few light-eyed friends, grab them and stare into their irises. Actually, do it with your dark-eyed friends, too. You'll be rewarded, as it's really very cool-looking.
To my reviewers:
I love you! And Mon2, erm, if you wish! Do whatever you want. 0.o
