Title: Like a Fairytale
Author: Stardrops
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG 13: Some violence and slash, precautions only.
Summary: Faced with difficult decisions about his future, Draco forms some unlikely friendships. A passionate romance is sparked – but is not as secret as he supposed. Someone is stalking Draco at Hogwarts – suddenly, protecting himself and Harry is more complicated than he imagined.
I'm supposed to write a disclaimer, I believe. But since you all know the deal, that it is J.K. Rowling's wonderful work and creation that all these characters and settings came to be, I think this is the last one I'll bother with in this story.
A/N: In chapter one, it previously said that Draco would be turning seventeen in April, but I wanted him and Harry to be closer in age, so I had to reupload that chapter and make him a few months older. So if you read that he was seventeen before, he is eighteen now, and no, that is not a mistake.
Please note also that they come of age at eighteen, not seventeen now. Thank you.
Chapter Six: Confusion
Harry sat with Ron and Hermione in their Herbology class. The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were merged with them, making their class a lot bigger than previous years.
"How was detention?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged. "Not bad, but not great."
"Malfoy still being a prat?" Ron glared at him from across the classroom. Obnoxious little git, isn't he?"
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but immediately shut it. He had no reason to defend Malfoy. In fact, he had every reason to bitch about him, yet a part of him felt incredibly strange hearing Ron say bad things about the boy.
Hermione passed Ron more frog spawn. "You know, maybe he's not actually that bad," she offered, glancing at Harry. "I mean, he hasn't been a downright prick to us since the incident at Grimmauld Place, has he?"
Ron stared at her incredulously. "What are you on about? He completely used us. He was such a prick after his friends took him back – he only wanted to get on our good side so he'd have someone to talk to. Jerk."
Hermione gave up and returned to her project. All was silent for a moment until a commotion broke out on the other side of the room. Harry looked up in time to see Goyle clutching his hand, blood streaming from an open wound. His Bowtruckle was heading in the opposite direction to him, on a mad rampage, straight for a pack of Slytherins with, Harry noticed immediately, Draco in the centre.
Harry's heart leapt into his throat as he watched in horror. The Bowtruckle's outstretched fingers were sharp, he knew, and Draco was simply sitting there watching it head towards him with an expression of surprise. Pansy and her friends screamed and tried to get out of the way of the oncoming Bowtruckle with its menacing fingers.
Hermione grabbed her wand, which was sitting on the table beside her own patch of earth, and uttered a quick incantation – "Stupefy!"
The Bowtruckle halted and fell, almost in slow motion. Everyone watched it fall, and then Professor Sprout jumped into action. Congratulating Hermione, she scolded Goyle for alarming the creature.
"It will be a long time until that creature is ready to go back into the forest," she told him angrily. "What on earth were you thinking?"
Goyle looked up at her stupidly, his hand still bleeding. Professor Sprout sent him to the hospital wing, and looked to Draco and the other Slytherins.
"Everyone okay?" she asked them.
Draco nodded, his gaze flickering to Hermione and Harry. Ron was standing back, scowling, obviously wishing there had been more injury for the Slytherins.
Draco was surprised to see Harry's expression – he looked almost anxious. Probably that famous Gryffindor personality coming into action, caring about others, he thought. He couldn't help noticing a part of him thinking, 'or maybe he was actually worried about what happened to you...' Silencing this part of him, he inclined his head in a silent thank you to Hermione and returned to his Slytherin companions.
Hermione put her wand back down on the table and sat back down. "Honestly, that Goyle is such an idiot. How could one person possibly possess so much stupidity?"
Harry blinked and returned to earth, his heartbeat slowing. Why on earth was he so worried about whether the Bowtruckle had attacked Malfoy or not? It was just Malfoy. It would probably do him some good to get some scratches and imperfections on that clear skin – stop him being so –
Harry gasped aloud. He considered Malfoy attractive? No! That wasn't possible. Malfoy was a boy. Not only that, he was the opposition, who stood for everything Harry and his friends were supposed to be against. He couldn't fancy the boy who would eventually, whether he wanted to or not, become Voldemort's right man.
"Harry? Harry, are you all right?"
Harry shook himself. Hermione was trying to get his attention. "Harry, what's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
He blinked twice and shrugged feebly. "Let's get back to this project, hey?" he replied, and turned his attention back to the small mound of earth the three of them were meant to be constructing into a perfect landscape for the creature of their choice. Hermione and Ron exchanged a look, but silently agreed not to question Harry any further.
Harry was oblivious to this silent conversation, as he tried to calm his spinning head. He felt faint. The realization that he no longer hated or even disliked Draco suddenly hit home. He tried to act normal, so as not to appear suspicious to Ron and Hermione, but his fingers were trembling slightly.
Draco was waiting outside the Potions corridor for Harry, who was late. He couldn't get the image of Harry's face out of his mind – the expression Harry had worn when Draco was being threatened by the irate Bowtruckle. He'd looked positively horrified, which struck Draco as odd, considering he and Harry weren't particularly close. If it had been Hermione or Ron who was being threatened, Draco could understand that. But it was him. Harry didn't even really like him. There was an even stranger fact gnawing at him – realization that he was pleased Harry cared about him. Or seemed to, at least.
He looked at his watch. Harry was nearly ten minutes late, Snape would kill him. He was about to walk off without the Gryffindor when he heard feet pattering up behind him. He turned to see Harry running towards him, obviously flustered.
"Am I late?" he asked, worriedly.
Draco hid a smile. Harry was really cute when he was vexed. "Yes, Potter. You're ten minutes late, and if we don't get there soon, you'll be fried and tossed into the Potion Snape is currently concocting."
Harry smiled witheringly. "Thanks, Malfoy. That's very reassuring."
The two walked down to the dungeons together. Snape, however, barely even noticed they were late, much to Harry's relief. He nodded at them to acknowledge their presence, and they got straight to work on the storeroom.
Draco stood back for a while under the pretences of mopping, his eyes fixed on Harry. The dark haired boy had his back turned, but Draco still watched him. Harry's strong, delicate fingers clutched a sponge as he scrubbed furiously at the crusted substances around the tops of the jars. Draco watched silently for several minutes, and then bent to help. The two boys were sitting on the ground scouring for ages before either of them spoke.
"This is a rather odd way to spend a detention, don't you think?" Harry said, uncomfortable in the thick silence.
Draco considered this. "Well, it's grueling, horrible and not something I would particularly fancy doing in my spare time, so I think it's probably ideal to someone like McGonagall. Anyway, it beats fishing for strange creatures in the freezing lake."
Harry laughed. "That was my best memory of you, floundering about in the water, splashing everywhere."
Draco glared. "Shut up. That water was cold."
"Malfoy, it was the beginning of autumn! Summer had only just finished! How could it have been that cold?"
"The lake's always cold, you knob."
Harry realized this was true, and the main reason why students went swimming in it on the hottest days of summer – because it was always icy and freezing.
"And anyway, next time we're there, I'll toss you in and see how you like it."
Harry grinned. "Yeah, if you can catch me."
"Go to hell Potter, you're a shrimp and not any faster than me."
"I'm not a shrimp. We deduced this a while ago, remember? I'm almost as tall as you are."
Draco bit his lip. Bugger. This was true.
Harry watched him in mild fascination. It was such a childish, cute look for Draco to be chewing so thoughtfully on his soft, pink lips. He quickly snapped out of this thought though, and got up to get another jar.
Draco got up also. He reached for a jar, selecting one with a strange green substance coating the rim of the jar. Harry noticed the intricate, beautiful silver watch Draco wore on his left wrist.
"Nice watch."
Draco flicked a glance to it and nodded. "Thanks."
Harry waited for a moment, and then continued. "Where'd it come from?"
Draco brushed his gaze over Harry's face. "It was a gift from my dad," he said softly.
"Your father?" Harry said in surprise. He wouldn't have expected Draco to still be wearing something from his father.
"Yes, Potter, I do have one you realize."
Harry frowned. "Are you back on speaking terms with him?"
Draco tensed. "Why do you care?"
Harry shrugged. "You just – well, I just thought you wouldn't be fond of someone who threw you out onto the streets at the age of sixteen.
"I was seventeen, Potter."
Harry stopped and stared for a moment. "What?"
"Seventeen, Potter. The number that comes after sixteen. I'm already seventeen."
This fact was completely foreign to Harry. He'd always thought he was older than Draco. "When's your birthday?"
"April 14."
"So you'll be eighteen next year?"
"Congratulations, Potter. You can count."
"But that means – you'll be legally an adult. You can – " Harry stopped immediately, remembering this was a sore subject for Draco, and wishing whole-heartedly that he'd never brought it up. Draco was still collected though.
"Yes, Potter, I'll be legally old enough to join the Death Eaters." Draco surveyed Harry's blushing face, his cheeks defined by the red flush that youthened his appearance suddenly, making him look much younger and more innocent.
"Are you going to?" Harry asked, not knowing whether he really wanted to hear the answer.
Draco stared at him. "You want me to say no, don't you?"
Harry swallowed. "I don't really care." This was a downright lie. He didn't want anyone to join the Death Eaters, and for some reason, especially not Draco.
Draco shrugged. "I don't know yet. It'll depend on my views closer to the time."
Harry watched his face, a difficult feat, for Draco stood in the shadows. "You don't have to go over to the Dark Side, you know."
Draco exhaled. "I know that, Potter."
"Then why are you even considering it?"
"What would I have if I didn't? What other purpose could I possibly have?" Draco asked him. "You're going to say that I could join Dumbledore and be part of your quest for peace and harmony, aren't you?"
"Well, you could. But that's not all, you know. You don't actually have to join anyone. You can just exist without taking sides."
"Yeah, right, Potter. I'm a Malfoy."
"What does that mean?"
"Every ancestor and every Malfoy or Black who stayed true to the family," Harry had a distinct feeling Draco was referring to Sirius's betraying his family and going over to Dumbledore when he said this, "has been a Death Eater or a follower of the Dark Lord. I can't dishonour the family name by refusing."
"Why not? Is it really what you want, to become a Death Eater simply to uphold a family reputation? That's not what you want, is it." This last part wasn't a question, it was a statement, and Draco felt a shiver up his spine as Harry stood less than a foot from him, staring at him.
"It doesn't matter what I want, Potter, I was born to carry on the tradition – my parents didn't have a child so they could enjoy the pure pleasure of having one. They only wanted to extend their line and see their reputation upheld. I can't break that."
"The only thing that matters in your future, Malfoy, is your happiness and what you want."
"And being in limbo is going to make me happy?"
"Not necessarily, maybe you would be better off being a Death Eater." Harry's emerald eyes were sparkling intensely in the dim light of the room. Draco found it suddenly difficult to swallow, and tried as hard as he could to look away. He couldn't, though; it was as though his own grey eyes were drawn to Harry's like magnetic forces.
"But?"
"But you should at least do what you want, not what your father or mother or Dumbledore or me or anyone says."
Draco was silent. He'd never been told that he could have a choice in his future. It was his rebellious streak that made him believe at times that he could just do something rash and unexpected that was completely his own doing – but he had always been taught that what his father and mother decided was what he would do. It was strange to have someone telling him that he could actually do something that he wanted to do instead of having others map his path for him.
Harry watched Draco standing silently, and took it the image of the boy in front of him. Draco's hand was sitting, forgotten on the shelf, his fingers splayed in a beautiful pale fan, contrasting with the dark wood of the shelves. He reached out inadvertently and touched Draco's skin.
Draco's entire body tensed. Harry's touch was soft and gentle, nothing like anyone else he'd ever been in close contact with. He could do nothing but stand still and watch his hand being traced lightly by Harry's tanned fingers.
He drew in breath quickly as the touch was removed. His eyes flickered back up to Harry's face, and found he'd moved closer to the boy unconsciously. Their eyes met and Harry was unable to break the gaze, drawn in by the clear grey of the other boy. Without either boy's realization, their faces were moving closer together until they were barely a few centimeters apart.
Harry could feel Draco's breath on his lips. His skin tingled with anticipation as Draco leaned in to make contact with Harry. Just as their lips were about to touch, the door was flung open and light flooded the room, breaking the mood. Harry and Draco sprang apart, their 'magnetic forces' broken. Neither could meet the other's eyes, and looked guiltily at the face of their intruder, Professor Snape.
Snape was taken aback by the guilty expressions on the boys' faces, but dismissed it immediately as he took in the state of the room. It was already almost entirely tidy. His face struggled not to look impressed, and he simply nodded.
"Well done. You may leave for tonight, if you wish. Your detention tomorrow may be shorter than the previous two if you can finish the room quickly."
"T-thank you, Professor," stammered Harry. Draco could only nod; his mouth was so dry he couldn't utter anything understandable.
Snape waited for a moment, but neither boy moved. "You may go," he prompted, wondering why they were acting so strangely. He was startled as Harry grabbed his bag and bolted, not noticing the book that tumbled from the bag to land at Draco's feet. Draco blinked for a moment before regaining some composure in Harry's absence and reached down to pick it up. It was Quidditch through the Ages, a favourite of Draco's. He smiled unintentionally. Harry had good taste.
"Er – Draco? Is there something going on?" Snape asked, thoroughly confused. Draco had almost forgotten that his godfather was there.
"No, sorry. Just got to give this back, then. See you tomorrow." Draco exited as casually as he could.
As soon as he was out of the room, he opened the front cover of the book. There was an inscription written there.
"Dear Harry,
Happy 16th Birthday! Madam Pince will go spare if you borrow this from the library any more, so here's a copy for yourself. Enjoy!
From Ron and Hermione"
Draco felt a stab of jealousy in his stomach. He knew Harry was close to Hermione and Ron, but it was strange to see something so plainly written. Especially after what had just happened. Or had nearly happened. He was still startled. What on earth had he been thinking? He'd been about to kiss Harry. Kissing a boy was a thought that had never entered his head, for one. Kissing Harry Potter was one he never would have imagined in his entire life. If he had, he would have been envied by more than half the female population at Hogwarts.
But if he ever did get with Harry, it wouldn't be public. It couldn't be public. There was far too much at stake – not just reputations. Friendships, family, power – not to mention all the complications with Voldemort it would cause. No, he and Harry could never be an item. And why was he still entertaining the thought anyway? It wasn't right; he couldn't have a relationship with another boy anyway. His father was strongly against homosexuality as well as half-bloods, Mud-bloods and Muggles.
Something Harry had said floated to surface in his mind. "You should at least do what you want, not what your father or mother or Dumbledore or me or anyone says."
It was such a typical Harry thing to say, he thought in irritation. But it was sticking in his mind. What exactly was it that he wanted?
He looked at the book in his hand. If his heart kept telling him to go after Harry and finish what they'd almost started, he was going to scream. He couldn't do that now, it would be embarrassing, plus he did not like Harry in that way. In any way.
So then why did he feel bitterly disappointed?
TBC
A/N: Well, there we go. Comment please! Everything welcome – compliments, suggestions for improvement, anything. Just review!
Bertiebottbean: thank you! I love getting compliments, and yours are most welcome. Hope you continue to read and enjoy!
Hp-Azn: all right, all right. Just for you, ill work that into the next two or three chapters. Might actually be better than what I had planned. Thank you very much for being so loyal and reading my story without fail. Its so lovely to have you continuously reviewing! Thanks for your suggestions too, keep them coming!
Piper13: you are psychic, my dearest. No, he is not hallucinating, and yes – he will soon become mildly obsessed. Keep reading, and please, by all means, review! Nice to see someone as happy bout Draco and Harry getting together as I am! :D
Dab-sampson: thank you so much! That's really sweet. Ill keep them coming just for you!
Silver Drago 161: Thank you! How lovely of you! I hope you still like what I'm doing! Please keep reading and reviewing, your comment made my day!
To anyone else reading this, please - PLEASE – review my story! It doesn't take long, and it doesn't even have to be long. Just something so I know people are reading and enjoying my story. It really brightens my day to know someone is enjoying what I'm writing. Thank you!
Author: Stardrops
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG 13: Some violence and slash, precautions only.
Summary: Faced with difficult decisions about his future, Draco forms some unlikely friendships. A passionate romance is sparked – but is not as secret as he supposed. Someone is stalking Draco at Hogwarts – suddenly, protecting himself and Harry is more complicated than he imagined.
I'm supposed to write a disclaimer, I believe. But since you all know the deal, that it is J.K. Rowling's wonderful work and creation that all these characters and settings came to be, I think this is the last one I'll bother with in this story.
A/N: In chapter one, it previously said that Draco would be turning seventeen in April, but I wanted him and Harry to be closer in age, so I had to reupload that chapter and make him a few months older. So if you read that he was seventeen before, he is eighteen now, and no, that is not a mistake.
Please note also that they come of age at eighteen, not seventeen now. Thank you.
Chapter Six: Confusion
Harry sat with Ron and Hermione in their Herbology class. The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were merged with them, making their class a lot bigger than previous years.
"How was detention?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged. "Not bad, but not great."
"Malfoy still being a prat?" Ron glared at him from across the classroom. Obnoxious little git, isn't he?"
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but immediately shut it. He had no reason to defend Malfoy. In fact, he had every reason to bitch about him, yet a part of him felt incredibly strange hearing Ron say bad things about the boy.
Hermione passed Ron more frog spawn. "You know, maybe he's not actually that bad," she offered, glancing at Harry. "I mean, he hasn't been a downright prick to us since the incident at Grimmauld Place, has he?"
Ron stared at her incredulously. "What are you on about? He completely used us. He was such a prick after his friends took him back – he only wanted to get on our good side so he'd have someone to talk to. Jerk."
Hermione gave up and returned to her project. All was silent for a moment until a commotion broke out on the other side of the room. Harry looked up in time to see Goyle clutching his hand, blood streaming from an open wound. His Bowtruckle was heading in the opposite direction to him, on a mad rampage, straight for a pack of Slytherins with, Harry noticed immediately, Draco in the centre.
Harry's heart leapt into his throat as he watched in horror. The Bowtruckle's outstretched fingers were sharp, he knew, and Draco was simply sitting there watching it head towards him with an expression of surprise. Pansy and her friends screamed and tried to get out of the way of the oncoming Bowtruckle with its menacing fingers.
Hermione grabbed her wand, which was sitting on the table beside her own patch of earth, and uttered a quick incantation – "Stupefy!"
The Bowtruckle halted and fell, almost in slow motion. Everyone watched it fall, and then Professor Sprout jumped into action. Congratulating Hermione, she scolded Goyle for alarming the creature.
"It will be a long time until that creature is ready to go back into the forest," she told him angrily. "What on earth were you thinking?"
Goyle looked up at her stupidly, his hand still bleeding. Professor Sprout sent him to the hospital wing, and looked to Draco and the other Slytherins.
"Everyone okay?" she asked them.
Draco nodded, his gaze flickering to Hermione and Harry. Ron was standing back, scowling, obviously wishing there had been more injury for the Slytherins.
Draco was surprised to see Harry's expression – he looked almost anxious. Probably that famous Gryffindor personality coming into action, caring about others, he thought. He couldn't help noticing a part of him thinking, 'or maybe he was actually worried about what happened to you...' Silencing this part of him, he inclined his head in a silent thank you to Hermione and returned to his Slytherin companions.
Hermione put her wand back down on the table and sat back down. "Honestly, that Goyle is such an idiot. How could one person possibly possess so much stupidity?"
Harry blinked and returned to earth, his heartbeat slowing. Why on earth was he so worried about whether the Bowtruckle had attacked Malfoy or not? It was just Malfoy. It would probably do him some good to get some scratches and imperfections on that clear skin – stop him being so –
Harry gasped aloud. He considered Malfoy attractive? No! That wasn't possible. Malfoy was a boy. Not only that, he was the opposition, who stood for everything Harry and his friends were supposed to be against. He couldn't fancy the boy who would eventually, whether he wanted to or not, become Voldemort's right man.
"Harry? Harry, are you all right?"
Harry shook himself. Hermione was trying to get his attention. "Harry, what's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
He blinked twice and shrugged feebly. "Let's get back to this project, hey?" he replied, and turned his attention back to the small mound of earth the three of them were meant to be constructing into a perfect landscape for the creature of their choice. Hermione and Ron exchanged a look, but silently agreed not to question Harry any further.
Harry was oblivious to this silent conversation, as he tried to calm his spinning head. He felt faint. The realization that he no longer hated or even disliked Draco suddenly hit home. He tried to act normal, so as not to appear suspicious to Ron and Hermione, but his fingers were trembling slightly.
Draco was waiting outside the Potions corridor for Harry, who was late. He couldn't get the image of Harry's face out of his mind – the expression Harry had worn when Draco was being threatened by the irate Bowtruckle. He'd looked positively horrified, which struck Draco as odd, considering he and Harry weren't particularly close. If it had been Hermione or Ron who was being threatened, Draco could understand that. But it was him. Harry didn't even really like him. There was an even stranger fact gnawing at him – realization that he was pleased Harry cared about him. Or seemed to, at least.
He looked at his watch. Harry was nearly ten minutes late, Snape would kill him. He was about to walk off without the Gryffindor when he heard feet pattering up behind him. He turned to see Harry running towards him, obviously flustered.
"Am I late?" he asked, worriedly.
Draco hid a smile. Harry was really cute when he was vexed. "Yes, Potter. You're ten minutes late, and if we don't get there soon, you'll be fried and tossed into the Potion Snape is currently concocting."
Harry smiled witheringly. "Thanks, Malfoy. That's very reassuring."
The two walked down to the dungeons together. Snape, however, barely even noticed they were late, much to Harry's relief. He nodded at them to acknowledge their presence, and they got straight to work on the storeroom.
Draco stood back for a while under the pretences of mopping, his eyes fixed on Harry. The dark haired boy had his back turned, but Draco still watched him. Harry's strong, delicate fingers clutched a sponge as he scrubbed furiously at the crusted substances around the tops of the jars. Draco watched silently for several minutes, and then bent to help. The two boys were sitting on the ground scouring for ages before either of them spoke.
"This is a rather odd way to spend a detention, don't you think?" Harry said, uncomfortable in the thick silence.
Draco considered this. "Well, it's grueling, horrible and not something I would particularly fancy doing in my spare time, so I think it's probably ideal to someone like McGonagall. Anyway, it beats fishing for strange creatures in the freezing lake."
Harry laughed. "That was my best memory of you, floundering about in the water, splashing everywhere."
Draco glared. "Shut up. That water was cold."
"Malfoy, it was the beginning of autumn! Summer had only just finished! How could it have been that cold?"
"The lake's always cold, you knob."
Harry realized this was true, and the main reason why students went swimming in it on the hottest days of summer – because it was always icy and freezing.
"And anyway, next time we're there, I'll toss you in and see how you like it."
Harry grinned. "Yeah, if you can catch me."
"Go to hell Potter, you're a shrimp and not any faster than me."
"I'm not a shrimp. We deduced this a while ago, remember? I'm almost as tall as you are."
Draco bit his lip. Bugger. This was true.
Harry watched him in mild fascination. It was such a childish, cute look for Draco to be chewing so thoughtfully on his soft, pink lips. He quickly snapped out of this thought though, and got up to get another jar.
Draco got up also. He reached for a jar, selecting one with a strange green substance coating the rim of the jar. Harry noticed the intricate, beautiful silver watch Draco wore on his left wrist.
"Nice watch."
Draco flicked a glance to it and nodded. "Thanks."
Harry waited for a moment, and then continued. "Where'd it come from?"
Draco brushed his gaze over Harry's face. "It was a gift from my dad," he said softly.
"Your father?" Harry said in surprise. He wouldn't have expected Draco to still be wearing something from his father.
"Yes, Potter, I do have one you realize."
Harry frowned. "Are you back on speaking terms with him?"
Draco tensed. "Why do you care?"
Harry shrugged. "You just – well, I just thought you wouldn't be fond of someone who threw you out onto the streets at the age of sixteen.
"I was seventeen, Potter."
Harry stopped and stared for a moment. "What?"
"Seventeen, Potter. The number that comes after sixteen. I'm already seventeen."
This fact was completely foreign to Harry. He'd always thought he was older than Draco. "When's your birthday?"
"April 14."
"So you'll be eighteen next year?"
"Congratulations, Potter. You can count."
"But that means – you'll be legally an adult. You can – " Harry stopped immediately, remembering this was a sore subject for Draco, and wishing whole-heartedly that he'd never brought it up. Draco was still collected though.
"Yes, Potter, I'll be legally old enough to join the Death Eaters." Draco surveyed Harry's blushing face, his cheeks defined by the red flush that youthened his appearance suddenly, making him look much younger and more innocent.
"Are you going to?" Harry asked, not knowing whether he really wanted to hear the answer.
Draco stared at him. "You want me to say no, don't you?"
Harry swallowed. "I don't really care." This was a downright lie. He didn't want anyone to join the Death Eaters, and for some reason, especially not Draco.
Draco shrugged. "I don't know yet. It'll depend on my views closer to the time."
Harry watched his face, a difficult feat, for Draco stood in the shadows. "You don't have to go over to the Dark Side, you know."
Draco exhaled. "I know that, Potter."
"Then why are you even considering it?"
"What would I have if I didn't? What other purpose could I possibly have?" Draco asked him. "You're going to say that I could join Dumbledore and be part of your quest for peace and harmony, aren't you?"
"Well, you could. But that's not all, you know. You don't actually have to join anyone. You can just exist without taking sides."
"Yeah, right, Potter. I'm a Malfoy."
"What does that mean?"
"Every ancestor and every Malfoy or Black who stayed true to the family," Harry had a distinct feeling Draco was referring to Sirius's betraying his family and going over to Dumbledore when he said this, "has been a Death Eater or a follower of the Dark Lord. I can't dishonour the family name by refusing."
"Why not? Is it really what you want, to become a Death Eater simply to uphold a family reputation? That's not what you want, is it." This last part wasn't a question, it was a statement, and Draco felt a shiver up his spine as Harry stood less than a foot from him, staring at him.
"It doesn't matter what I want, Potter, I was born to carry on the tradition – my parents didn't have a child so they could enjoy the pure pleasure of having one. They only wanted to extend their line and see their reputation upheld. I can't break that."
"The only thing that matters in your future, Malfoy, is your happiness and what you want."
"And being in limbo is going to make me happy?"
"Not necessarily, maybe you would be better off being a Death Eater." Harry's emerald eyes were sparkling intensely in the dim light of the room. Draco found it suddenly difficult to swallow, and tried as hard as he could to look away. He couldn't, though; it was as though his own grey eyes were drawn to Harry's like magnetic forces.
"But?"
"But you should at least do what you want, not what your father or mother or Dumbledore or me or anyone says."
Draco was silent. He'd never been told that he could have a choice in his future. It was his rebellious streak that made him believe at times that he could just do something rash and unexpected that was completely his own doing – but he had always been taught that what his father and mother decided was what he would do. It was strange to have someone telling him that he could actually do something that he wanted to do instead of having others map his path for him.
Harry watched Draco standing silently, and took it the image of the boy in front of him. Draco's hand was sitting, forgotten on the shelf, his fingers splayed in a beautiful pale fan, contrasting with the dark wood of the shelves. He reached out inadvertently and touched Draco's skin.
Draco's entire body tensed. Harry's touch was soft and gentle, nothing like anyone else he'd ever been in close contact with. He could do nothing but stand still and watch his hand being traced lightly by Harry's tanned fingers.
He drew in breath quickly as the touch was removed. His eyes flickered back up to Harry's face, and found he'd moved closer to the boy unconsciously. Their eyes met and Harry was unable to break the gaze, drawn in by the clear grey of the other boy. Without either boy's realization, their faces were moving closer together until they were barely a few centimeters apart.
Harry could feel Draco's breath on his lips. His skin tingled with anticipation as Draco leaned in to make contact with Harry. Just as their lips were about to touch, the door was flung open and light flooded the room, breaking the mood. Harry and Draco sprang apart, their 'magnetic forces' broken. Neither could meet the other's eyes, and looked guiltily at the face of their intruder, Professor Snape.
Snape was taken aback by the guilty expressions on the boys' faces, but dismissed it immediately as he took in the state of the room. It was already almost entirely tidy. His face struggled not to look impressed, and he simply nodded.
"Well done. You may leave for tonight, if you wish. Your detention tomorrow may be shorter than the previous two if you can finish the room quickly."
"T-thank you, Professor," stammered Harry. Draco could only nod; his mouth was so dry he couldn't utter anything understandable.
Snape waited for a moment, but neither boy moved. "You may go," he prompted, wondering why they were acting so strangely. He was startled as Harry grabbed his bag and bolted, not noticing the book that tumbled from the bag to land at Draco's feet. Draco blinked for a moment before regaining some composure in Harry's absence and reached down to pick it up. It was Quidditch through the Ages, a favourite of Draco's. He smiled unintentionally. Harry had good taste.
"Er – Draco? Is there something going on?" Snape asked, thoroughly confused. Draco had almost forgotten that his godfather was there.
"No, sorry. Just got to give this back, then. See you tomorrow." Draco exited as casually as he could.
As soon as he was out of the room, he opened the front cover of the book. There was an inscription written there.
"Dear Harry,
Happy 16th Birthday! Madam Pince will go spare if you borrow this from the library any more, so here's a copy for yourself. Enjoy!
From Ron and Hermione"
Draco felt a stab of jealousy in his stomach. He knew Harry was close to Hermione and Ron, but it was strange to see something so plainly written. Especially after what had just happened. Or had nearly happened. He was still startled. What on earth had he been thinking? He'd been about to kiss Harry. Kissing a boy was a thought that had never entered his head, for one. Kissing Harry Potter was one he never would have imagined in his entire life. If he had, he would have been envied by more than half the female population at Hogwarts.
But if he ever did get with Harry, it wouldn't be public. It couldn't be public. There was far too much at stake – not just reputations. Friendships, family, power – not to mention all the complications with Voldemort it would cause. No, he and Harry could never be an item. And why was he still entertaining the thought anyway? It wasn't right; he couldn't have a relationship with another boy anyway. His father was strongly against homosexuality as well as half-bloods, Mud-bloods and Muggles.
Something Harry had said floated to surface in his mind. "You should at least do what you want, not what your father or mother or Dumbledore or me or anyone says."
It was such a typical Harry thing to say, he thought in irritation. But it was sticking in his mind. What exactly was it that he wanted?
He looked at the book in his hand. If his heart kept telling him to go after Harry and finish what they'd almost started, he was going to scream. He couldn't do that now, it would be embarrassing, plus he did not like Harry in that way. In any way.
So then why did he feel bitterly disappointed?
TBC
A/N: Well, there we go. Comment please! Everything welcome – compliments, suggestions for improvement, anything. Just review!
Bertiebottbean: thank you! I love getting compliments, and yours are most welcome. Hope you continue to read and enjoy!
Hp-Azn: all right, all right. Just for you, ill work that into the next two or three chapters. Might actually be better than what I had planned. Thank you very much for being so loyal and reading my story without fail. Its so lovely to have you continuously reviewing! Thanks for your suggestions too, keep them coming!
Piper13: you are psychic, my dearest. No, he is not hallucinating, and yes – he will soon become mildly obsessed. Keep reading, and please, by all means, review! Nice to see someone as happy bout Draco and Harry getting together as I am! :D
Dab-sampson: thank you so much! That's really sweet. Ill keep them coming just for you!
Silver Drago 161: Thank you! How lovely of you! I hope you still like what I'm doing! Please keep reading and reviewing, your comment made my day!
To anyone else reading this, please - PLEASE – review my story! It doesn't take long, and it doesn't even have to be long. Just something so I know people are reading and enjoying my story. It really brightens my day to know someone is enjoying what I'm writing. Thank you!
