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, keeping himself and Harry safe is more complicated than he imagined.
Chapter Fifteen: Strange Happenings
Hermione was scribbling so fast that her entire body was moving. Her paper was squeaking with the pressure her quill was being used with. Suddenly, there was a tearing sound, and Hermione lifted her hand to see that her quill had torn a nice long rip in her parchment. She groaned aloud. Slamming her book as hard as she could on the table, she buried her face in her hands and ran her fingers through her hair. Yanking through the tangles in her messy locks, she gritted her teeth in irritation and breathed slowly to try and calm down.
Harry watched this from across the table, trying to conceal a grin at her obvious frustration.
"Hermione? Everything all right?" he asked once he'd gotten his expression under control.
She looked up abruptly, apparently having forgotten that Harry was there. It was very late at night and they were in the common room. Everyone else had gone to bed already, but Hermione and Harry had stayed up, claiming the need to study for the N.E.W.T.'s. It wasn't uncommon for students to be up until all hours of the morning studying for these exams, when they suddenly got a rush of fear about failing the life determining exams. It had become a regular occurrence to see students poring over books and parchment. Tonight, however, it was only Harry and Hermione studying. Or in Harry's case, pretending to study while really dreaming about Draco. And in Hermione's case, thinking too much.
She sighed and leaned forward forlornly on her elbows, stretching her cheeks out with her palms. Her quill was leaking slightly, but she made no move to stop it. "Everyone is acting so weird lately, Harry."
Harry nodded. "And, by everyone, you actually mean Ron, right?"
Hermione tried to conjure an indignant look to throw at Harry, but failing that, she simply nodded glumly. "He's never around anymore, and when he is, he's really distracted. What on earth is his problem?"
Harry could see that she was becoming really distressed. "Hermione, he's probably just tired. This is seventh year; we're all stressed out about the N.E.W.T.'s. And you know what Ron's and my grades are always like; we're hardly the top of our year, are we?"
Hermione shook her head vigorously. "No, Harry, that's got nothing to do with it. Ron has never cared about his grades that much. It's something bigger than that. And … and …" Hermione looked down at the table. "I think it's something to do with his love life. I've seen him staring off into space at dinner and he's hardly eaten half of what he used to. He's just always looking blank and thoughtful now. It must be a girl."
Harry frowned. "Hermione, I'm sure you're reading too much into this. He's probably fine."
"Have you seen him much lately?" she asked, desperately. "Has he given you any reason to think that something is up with him?"
Harry laughed. "You've seen him much more than I have. You know how busy everything is with Quidditch and trying to keep all the homework done. I've hardly seen him at all. But when I have, it's been fine. He's not keeping a girl from us, I'm sure."
Hermione didn't look convinced, but she fell silent at that point, and Harry turned back to his homework.
His troubles with Draco were not only affecting his relationship with the boy, everything else was suffering as well. He couldn't concentrate on schoolwork when he was fighting with Draco, but god knows that work was the last thing to occupy his mind whenever they were on good terms.
All he could think about was the look of desire in Draco's eyes the last time they'd been alone – in the library. He always felt light-headed to remember the gentle but definite kisses they'd shared, and often lost track of time when he was reminiscing.
That very day, in classes, he'd sneaked looks at Draco from across the room. The Slytherin was always very in control, smoothly controlling everyone around him with his cool indifference. It always fascinated Harry, and he found himself longingly wishing to be a part of them just so he could openly love Draco instead of keeping it all inside.
Even though Hermione knew, it was difficult to tell her about it. She still didn't understand the reasons for their attraction. It was the sort of thing that she would have laughed at if someone had told her it would happen years ago. But she could see how happy Harry was now, and was glad for him. He'd never been so happy with his other girlfriends. There was something about Draco which lit Harry up from the inside and made him sparkle. That was something rare, and Hermione was afraid to question it in case it disappeared. In her opinion, it hardly mattered who the person was that was bringing such joy to Harry as long as they were.
&&&
Draco lay back on his bed, his legs crossed and foot tapping the air to the silent rhythm that he could hear in his mind. A half smile crossed his face, and he closed his eyes, content to simply try to bring the image of Harry's beautiful face to him again. It seemed imprinted on his brain, yet sometimes it took so long for him to find the exact shade of green in Harry's eyes, the beautiful tanned colour of his skin and the dark, shimmering hair that was determined never to tame. It took his breath away and left him feeling faint and weak with passion and lust.
He remembered the expression Harry had used – hush-hush. It still made him chuckle to think about it. Harry was such a dork, he thought fondly. Every time Harry said something so silly or clichéd, it made Draco just want to reach out and smother the boy in loving kisses.
His smile dissipated slightly as he thought about his father's threat. What was he going to do about it? Harry was so unconcerned about it, but it was hardly easy to convey the exact glare and hatred that Draco had seen in Lucius that night. It was not the way a father looked at a son. It was the way that he had once looked at Harry – with utter loathing.
It still made him feel slightly sick inside. The worst thing about the situation was that he knew his father was perfectly capable of doing everything he'd threatened to do. It was just a matter of time, and he was guarding everything so closely that it was exhausting him. He was almost too afraid to go to sleep at night since the Slytherins had slipped him the chocolates. He could no longer trust any of them.
It was immensely unsettling to realise that you can't trust people that you'd imagined to be friends for years. Crabbe and Goyle had been his friends as a young child, and all of a sudden he was afraid of being alone with them, eating with them, even sleeping in the same room as them. There was no way of telling whether they were about to do something to transport him back to his father. Particularly as none of them had mentioned the incident of transportation to his father the first time, and were behaving as though nothing had happened. Sometimes Draco wondered if it really was the Slytherins who had been the culprits, but then his commonsense reminded him that there was no one else who could have.
He shivered. What he wouldn't give to be with Harry right now, just to lie there in his arms and feel safe once again. So many years of his life had been wasted in evil intent and hating other wizards that were beneath him, when all the while, if he'd only acted like a real person, he could have been Harry's friend from the beginning. There was no knowing what he would have turned out like had that been the case. Perhaps he could have avoided all the hurt that he'd caused so many people over the years.
A pang hit his stomach as he thought about his mother. He missed her dreadfully. Normally, she sent him packages at least twice a week with homemade food and letters about what was happening at home. No doubt the reason that he hadn't received a single letter from his mother was his father. While Narcissa could be scathing to other women, she was secretly as vulnerable as anyone else. Draco couldn't think of any decision that his mother had made by herself. From what to make for dinner to what actions she could take to assist Voldemort, she had always consulted Lucius. Narcissa was hardly Narcissa when Lucius was around. But when it was just his mother and he, it was the most happy he'd ever seen his mother. Regardless of what his father had said to him when he'd kicked Draco out, he knew his mother was missing him even more than he was missing her.
He sighed and tried to stop thinking for a while.
&&&
Morning came, and Hermione was still troubled. She hadn't realised how much she liked Ron until the thought of someone else taking him had arisen to her mind. She hadn't seen him that night, and she and Harry had been in the common room until the early hours of the morning.
She left the dormitory early and started to walk towards the Great Hall in search of Ron when her foot touched something soft.
Her heart leapt into her mouth and she jumped. There was a dark shadow lying on the ground before her – something large and solid, and covered in blankets. She was unsure of what to do. She had no idea what would be left in a dark corridor covered in blankets, except possibly one of Hagrid's pets. Hermione shuddered. That was a bad thing to think. She didn't want to run into one of Hagrid's 'harmless' pets this early in the morning, especially not while she was alone. And surely Hagrid wouldn't have left one of his animals inside the castle unattended. He'd have been looking after it better. So what on earth was this thing?
It was moving slightly, as though it was breathing. This didn't content Hermione, though. "Okay," she whispered to herself. "It's alive. That's … great."
What was she supposed to do? She couldn't simply walk away and leave it, if it was something dangerous, it could easily find the passageway into the Great Hall and hurt other people, not to mention cause a hysteria. She was the Head Girl. She had a responsibility to ensure other student's safety, surely? So – it was perfectly understandable for her to investigate a possible threat.
She closed her eyes and kicked it as hard as she could, prepared to run if something bad happened.
"Mmffph!" came an indignant yelp from beneath the blankets. Hermione blinked. It was a person. And not just any person either. Her eyebrow lifted in astonishment as she watched a tangled mass of red hair emerge from the blankets.
"Ron!" she exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing?"
Ron's eyes opened and blinked, focusing on Hermione. He lifted a hand to his head and groaned. "Hermione. What are you doing here? It's early."
Hermione was slightly taken aback. "Ron, you're outside the common room, lying in the corridor at about seven in the morning. What is going on?"
He sat up gingerly and rubbed his arm. "N-nothing. I mean, I'm fine. I just came out to get some fresh air and I must have fallen asleep. You know how stressful things are lately." He yawned and sat looking miserable. Hermione had never seen him like this, and she didn't know what to say. "I can barely sleep at all anymore with all the work that I have to do."
He drew a hand across his eyes and Hermione noticed for the first time how tired he looked. "Ron, you look awful. Is there anything I can do to help?"
He shook his head. "No. It's pretty much just time. I need more of it and I can't get it."
Hermione's heart wrenched. He looked so small and sad. "Come on," she said, taking his hand and leading him back towards the common room. "You need to get dressed and have some breakfast and then you need to skip the first class and go back to bed and sleep properly. I'll take some notes for you and help you with any work you miss, but please get some rest, Ron."
Ron looked at her with an expression she couldn't quite decipher. "Are you serious?" he asked. "I'd really appreciate that."
She smiled shyly. "Well, you look like you could use a rest, and yeah. I am serious about it."
He grinned and squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Hermione. You're a great friend."
She waited for him to finish dressing and then they walked together into the Great Hall and sat down to eat. Hermione felt much lighter inside, and she beamed to see Ron shovelling in food as though he had never tasted such wonderful delicacies before. It was only toast, but she watched him wolf down four pieces with jam and then start on a huge plate of pancakes. At least she knew he was eating and resting now. If she kept her eye on him for a few more days, he would be back to normal.
&&&
Harry looked out the window, down towards Hagrid's hut. He was frowning, deep in thought. Ron had been looking very pale lately, and he wasn't sleeping well. There had to be something else going on. But Ron wouldn't keep a secret from Harry. He wasn't physically capable of keeping any big secrets, anyway. But … it didn't make sense. Ron had never cared about his work very much, and was being strangely distant from both of them this year. Was there something going on that Ron wasn't telling them?
He felt his stomach rumble. It had been some time since breakfast and he was hungry again. He left the dormitory to go down to the Great Hall, hoping to question Ron a bit further. He knew Hermione was perfectly accepting of Ron's excuse about having lots of work and being more stressed this year than before, and for a moment, he felt a little guilty to be suspecting his best friend of acting weirdly. Ron was probably fine, except for being a little tired all the time. Harry grinned. Maybe Ron was having a secret romance and that was why he'd been out until all hours. It wasn't very likely, though. Ron wouldn't be able to keep that to himself.
He hadn't gone far before he heard a voice which he knew was Ron's. He grinned, thinking it was Hermione and Ron walking towards the Hall together. He was debating whether to call out to them to wait for him or to let them have some time alone together, but then he heard something strange. Some other voice was speaking – a female's voice – but it definitely was not Hermione's.
"You stayed out there all night! You could've gotten really sick, and then you'd be …"
"Shhh!" said Ron, his voice almost a whisper. "Don't say that."
Harry frowned. Who on earth was Ron talking to? He turned the corner and halted abruptly. Ron was standing there, with a girl, but he'd been absolutely right. It wasn't Hermione.
It was Pansy Parkinson.
They were standing together, his hands entwined in hers. His back was against the wall, and they were quiet, looking deep into each others eyes, almost trance-like. Harry had a terrible feeling that his entrance was going to break their romantic moment, and as he took in the sight of them standing so close and looking so intense, he gulped.
"Harry!" gasped Ron, shoving Pansy away from him. "What are you doing here?"
"I just came to see if you were okay … I didn't mean to interrupt," Harry muttered.
Pansy glared at him. Her eyes were a cold grey colour, and her gaze pierced him inside. He felt afraid for a moment, and a vision of Draco flashed before him.
"Um …" said Ron uncomfortably. "Harry, this – this doesn't look to great, does it?"
Harry put his hands up and started to walk away. "It's cool, man. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll catch you later." He threw Ron a very deliberate look that said quite plainly that they were going to have a VERY long talk later on when they 'caught up'.
Pansy stepped out in front of him. She was still glaring furiously at him, and for a moment, Harry wondered if perhaps he saw a flicker of fear in her own eyes. "Potter, you didn't see anything here, did you?" She raised an eyebrow and stared at him meaningfully.
Harry's heart nearly stopped. Normally, Pansy's eyes were expressionless and unreadable, but Harry could read them perfectly now. He knew that what she wasn't saying was that if Harry told anyone about her and Ron, Pansy would tell everyone about him and Draco. Which would get Draco so far into it with his father that –
He didn't want to think about that.
He shrugged helplessly, staring at his feet, and replied. "No."
&&&
Harry scurried up to the dormitories again, as fast as he could. Slamming the door behind him, he stood in the middle of the room for a moment, his breath coming quickly and his eyes wide and startled.
Ron and Pansy? Since when?
Hermione had been right.
An image flashed before him. That day in Hogsmeade – when the Hufflepuff had fallen into Ron and they'd had the massive showdown when Ron had tried to beat up Malfoy. Pansy had shown up halfway through and begun insulting Hermione. He remembered Pansy looking at Ron more than she'd looked at anyone else – and the harsh words they'd spoken to each other. Was that all an act, like he and Draco had pretended to hate each other? Or was that the beginning of their attraction?
Harry felt sick. He didn't know what to believe anymore.
&&&
A/N: Okay, this chapter is quite short, but it took such a long time to come to you that I thought I might as well post it anyhow. Remember, lovely ladies and gents, if you want an update, it really is influenced by whether or not I get reviews on my chapters. I look forward to reading all your comments and suggestions.
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