Warning: Ah, bugger it. You know.
A/N: If I wish hard enough, I may get a teensy bit of credit for a little bit of the plot...but I sure as hell am NOT getting paid for any of this! Lol
Summary: After a brief, but informative, conversation with Dumbledore, Snape continues his plan of - (shhhh...it's a secret!) Hermione's just told Harry & Ron a bit too much info, and Harry's on his way to the Infirmary to give Malfoy...*shudder*... his lunch. Could this day get any longer!?!?!?!?!
Thanks: Will be given at end of chap. *grins*
Hey there and hello again you wonderful people you. How was everyone's holiday? Mine was - hectic. Hey, it's over now, so it's all good! Just a quick note/shameless plug : "The Greater Good, or the Lesser Evil" by LadyRhiyana is a FABULOUS story - and I would recommend you stop reading mine, and go read hers! It's now complete, and it's amazing.
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1000431
And no, she didn't ask me to do that. lol
~*~
'Damnit Malfoy...'
Harry cursed the blonde under his breath as he struggled down the corridor. Most everyone else was still at lunch, which he was most grateful for; Harry would rather have faced Voldemort bare-ass naked than be seen serving Malfoy his lunch - rather ungracefully at that.
The Hogwarts' house elves had outdone themselves - not that any of them particularly liked Malfoy, but he was sick. And sick students needed substantially more food than 'well' ones, apparently. That, or Snape had a say in the menu. Regardless, Draco's tray was overflowing with delectable goodies - far more appealing than anyone else's' lunch that day. It did little to help Harry's mood, or balance for that matter.
It was a struggle just to keep upright. Draco's tray of food was certainly heavy, but not as heavy as the bag that kept slipping off his shoulder and onto his arm. The sudden balance shift almost caused the tray to flip, forcing Harry to stop and re-adjust himself several times.
'Stupid Malfoy...Stupid Snape...Stupid...'
This would've been much easier had Snape allowed Ron or Hermione to come along.
Ron...
A small smile made its way to Harry's lips as he thought of his friend - providing a brief distraction from the humiliating situation he found himself in. It grew wider as he remembered the look on the redhead's face when he changed in front of him. A low chuckle escaped. It wasn't a nice thing to have done, and most would probably consider it cruel - but oh gods, was it funny.
'I wonder if he's still having those dreams about me...'
Dreams...
The amulet!
The day had been so chaotic, Harry had almost forgotten about it. A moment of panic struck him, causing his blood to run cold.
Where was it?
He stopped and wiggled his hips slightly, trying to feel if it was in his cloak pocket. No - not there. He had gotten ready for class in such a hurry that morning; he couldn't remember what he had done with it. Surely he left it in his room. Yes. That's where it was. In his room. On the bedside table, by the clock.
A relieved sigh escaped him as he started walking again.
How stupid he was...leaving it out in the open, like that. Not that anyone in his House would be likely to steal it, but Gryffindors were curious by nature. Questions would rise...
'What is that?' 'Where did you get it?' 'What's it do?' 'Did you hear what happened to Malfoy?'
Too many questions...
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head softly. He would have to be more careful; especially after what happened to Malfoy...
Draco.
A small pang of guilt rang through his chest as he remembered the day's events, and the part he had played in all of it.
'Stop thinking this. He would've done the same thing if HE had the amulet instead of you, so just stop. HE wouldn't feel bad.'
Harry glanced down at the tray he was carrying, and he quickened his pace.
'He deserved it. Remember that; he deserved it.'
A forced smile spread across his lips as he turned the corner.
He had reached the doors to the Infirmary, and had he not been so caught up in his own thoughts, he would've seen the small, but formidable group of Slytherin girls who had gathered.
"Happy to be bringing Draco his lunch are we, Potter?" drawled Pansy Parkinson.
"He looks a little TOO happy, if you ask me." Ebony Mordacity, another sixth-year Slytherin, raised a delicately trimmed eyebrow.
Harry grimaced. "No one asked you. Excuse me..." He quickly walked past the girls and was almost to the doors before...
"Wait! Don't go yet!"
A small shudder made its way down Harry's spine at the shrill voice that called out behind him. It was a small wonder the 'Slytherin' population of the Wizarding World ever reproduced, he mused. 'I wonder how Malfoy puts up with it?'
"Yes?"
Pansy slithered up to him. "We were wondering..."
"Since you're already going in..." Ebony joined her.
"Do you suppose you could..."
"...do us a favor?" The two girls grinned coyly.
~wince~
"I suppose," he sighed. "What do you..."
"FABULOUS!" They chimed in unison. And before Harry could get another word in, he was bombarded - lost in a sea of silver and green estrogen.
"Where can we...?" "There's no room..." "What about his mouth?" "Oooh! Good idea, Millicent!"
Had Harry's arms not been otherwise occupied, he could've fended for himself. But alas, they were - so he stood there, defenseless, unable to block the hoard of delicately scented parchments that were suddenly, and violently, stuffed into his mouth.
"Thank you so very much, Potty." An unknown voice cackled in the background.
"Oh, do be a dear and not drool on them too much, would you?"
Pansy made no attempt to hide her pleasure in seeing the Gryffindor Golden Boy, (now teetering under the weight of the tray, book-bag hanging off his elbow, and mouth stuffed full of Slytherin 'Get Well Cards'), glare daggers at her.
It was moments like these that got her out of bed in the morning.
"Mmphough"
She couldn't decipher exactly what it was he said, but given the death stare he was wearing, she was sure it wasn't pleasant. Pansy smiled sweetly as she held the Infirmary door open.
"There's a good lad."
~*~
"Owww..."
Draco had given up on sleep exactly ten minutes after Snape left. Any effort appeared futile. Regardless of how he lay, and he had exhausted about every position he could think of, the ever-present throbbing would continue. The only arrangement that came close to working was on his stomach, but the fear of having his back exposed for too long prevented any real rest.
Besides, sleeping on his face always resulted in pillowcase- induced wrinkles.
So he sat, back up against the pillow, and read some of the Potions homework Snape had brought earlier. Truth-be-told, he wasn't that tired...but he had no desire to leave the Infirmary quite yet. And rushing headfirst into certain death was never one of his things.
Death...
The death of his reputation, his status; the death of whatever power he had over his House and its inhabitants; and worst of all, the death of his fear. Not HIS fear, per say, but the fear he instilled in others. How could anyone in their right mind fear him now?
Before this morning, he was looked up to; he was the poster child for all that was powerful. His very name invoked terror in the hearts and souls of Mudbloods everywhere. He was a Malfoy.
And now...
He was human. He had fears. He had doubts. He had secrets. And now...the whole world knew them all. Blast it! If only Snape had been more liberal with his story, he would know them as well. He was a laughingstock, a blemish on the name 'Malfoy', and he hadn't a clue as to what he had said.
Father...
Word would have reached home by now. How would his father react? His mother? Draco inwardly winced at the thought. Surely they wouldn't disown him, not over a prank...but a prank at his expense?
"Damnit..."
Draco groaned and threw the Potions textbook down; his hands were trembling. Draco's sixth year was not supposed to be this way. HE was not supposed to be this way. He was not supposed to be cooped up in the school Infirmary, too afraid to leave on his own accord. When had his life become so foreign? What had he done, or better yet, what could he have done differently? His head swam with questions. Too many questions, and not enough answers.
The sound of shrill laughter snapped Draco out of his self- induced trance.
"Fucking hell, not Pansy..."
Not ready to face the world, and nowhere near ready to face Pansy Parkinson and her troop, Draco flipped over onto his stomach and feigned sleep.
~*~
Harry staggered into the Infirmary, completely off-balance and nearly knocking Madam Pomfrey over in the process.
"What in the...Merlin's beard, Mr. Potter?" The wide-eyed medi- witch gave him a once-over, only to have him answer with a pleading look.
"Alifflehlfereplse!" Translated: 'A little help here, please!'
"Ah, lunch. Good of you to bring it." Ignoring his mumbling, Madam Pomfrey nodded in Draco's direction. "Do try not to disturb him, he needs his rest." And in one quick motion, she turned back to her office, completely missing his frustrated glare.
"Ilgvusmfphgtodstrb..." Translated: 'I'll give you something to disturb...'
~*~
Back in his bed, Draco was listening intently to the commotion just beyond earshot. The only two words that made any sense at all were 'Potter' and 'Lunch'.
Still feigning sleep, Draco inwardly groaned and tried to disappear under the covers.
'Fabulous...simply fabulous.'
~Footsteps~
'Prolly come to gloat, the bastard...'
~Closer now~
'Or perhaps, he's come to poison me...finish the job...though, that does sound appealing right about now...'
"FWAGH!" (A/N: Author's interpretation of what someone spitting out a mouthful of paper sounds like.)
Draco's internal bickering was cut short, due to the pile of mildly damp parchment that had elegantly landed on his face - causing a mean paper cut to form on his cheek.
"Argh!" Forgetting sleep due to the 'wetness' of his face, Draco sat up violently, plucking off the drool-infested paper. "Bloody hell, Potter! What...what is all this?"
"This," Harry dropped the tray onto Draco's lap, "is your lunch. And THIS," he spat out the remaining letter, "is your fan mail." With an exhausted sigh, Harry collapsed onto the chair beside Draco's bed.
Draco made a face. "Why is my 'fan mail' covered in spit?"
Harry only growled in response.
"Well," Draco sat up, regaining his poise, "It's about time you got here." He paused a moment. "Why ARE you here?"
"Snape." Harry gathered his things together. "Enjoy your lunch, Malfoy."
He chuckled. "Of course."
THIS was Snape's punishment for Potter...Snape being the judge and jury, leaving himself to be the executioner. A deliciously evil smirk made its way to Draco's lips. It was up to him, now.
"The least you can do is keep me company, Potter." Malfoy drawled, his eyes piercing through the back of the Gryffindor's head. "You owe me that much."
"I owe you?" Harry spun around, his last nerve spent. "I OWE you?"
"Are you daft, Potter? Or have all those years of everyone singing your praises made you deaf? You-OWE-me."
Harry scoffed, "Of all the nerve..."
"We both know you're to blame for..." He gestured his surroundings. "...for THIS."
"I don't know what you're talking about." The familiar twinge of guilt pulled inside Harry's chest, but he would be damned if he showed it.
Draco laughed. "You play 'dumb' so well, Potter...I almost hate to ask you to stop."
"You got what you deserved." It sounded so much better in his head, but when he actually said it, it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than Malfoy.
"What I deserved...?"
"Yes." Harry interjected. "Yes, you deserved it..." his eyes skirted the floor. "Whether or not I did it isn't the..."
"Unbelievable!" Draco stared at him, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. "You self-centered, pompous little..."
"Pot...Kettle...Black." Harry's voice had risen considerably.
"I always knew beneath all that 'Gryffindor' armor you were a little coward, but to be completely devoid of ANY principle..."
"You're one to talk to ME about honor, Malfoy."
"You don't know the meaning of the word."
"YOU wouldn't know an honorable action if it slapped you in the face! Which, I'm sure it has on many occasions."
"At LEAST I have the courage of my convictions, Harry." Draco's words spat out so fast; neither boy realized he had actually called the other by his first name. "I don't hide behind anything! I AM what I say, and everyone knows it."
"Yes, EVERYONE knows it." Harry's tone rivaled the ice that had collected in his veins. "At least, they do now..."
"...thanks to you." The pain he felt was evident, and for the first time, Draco made no attempt to hide it.
"I didn't see you lining up to take credit for my little 'accident' on Friday."
Draco looked at him thoughtfully, the smirk still plastered securely on his face. "Yes, well...I don't suppose I had the chance, now did I?"
Harry looked at Draco; Draco looked at Harry. A thousand comebacks lined up and ready to spit out - but they didn't. Instead, Harry lowered his gaze, along with his body, and sat down. It was the years of pent-up bitterness that had kept him arguing this long; he was surprised to find it already spent. Now, he was just tired. And by the look of him, it appeared Draco was too.
"I guess this makes us even."
The Slytherin looked at him spitefully. "We are FAR from even."
Harry sighed, "Aren't you tired of this pissing contest?"
"No."
"What do you want from me, Malfoy? An apology? A truce? What?" He leaned back in his chair. "You must want something."
"Don't presume to know what I want...besides, I believe I already offered you a truce, Potter." He smirked. "And you can see how well that turned out."
Harry leaned forward. "WHEN did you ever offer me a truce?"
Draco laughed, but not quite as bitterly as before. "Your memory is pathetic. It's a wonder you've passed any classes at 'all." He began picking at his lunch.
Harry snorted. "That would be Hermione's doing."
"Ah, yes...the Mudblood. Too smart for her own good."
"Why do you call her that?"
Draco looked at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Because that's what she is."
Too tired to argue, Harry leaned back against the chair again.
"What color is the sky in that evil world of yours, Malfoy?"
"Purple."
His answer caught Harry so off-guard, he let down the 'Gryffindor' wall and actually laughed.
"What? You asked."
Harry shook his head, his shoulders still bouncing from laughter.
"Merlin, Potter...calm down. It wasn't that funny."
"Why purple?"
Draco shrugged. "Why not purple?"
Harry considered it, and then nodded. "It suits you."
"Everything suits me."
"No. Not everything."
Draco raised a challenging eyebrow. "Are you suggesting there's a color that wouldn't look good on me?"
Harry countered with the opposite eyebrow. "Are you suggesting periwinkle blue WOULD look good on you?"
The blonde leaned forward a bit. "Are you envisioning me in periwinkle blue?"
Harry leaned in as well. "Are we really having this conversation?"
"I think we are."
"This day is getting scarier by the moment."
"Tell me about it." Draco looked at him. "No, seriously. Tell me about it. If not you, then somebody - cause I can't remember a bloody thing."
Harry chuckled softly. "Do you really want to know?"
"Of course I don't want to know, Potter! But I have to! If I'm going to survive the rest of my collegiate experience in once piece, I'm going to need to know how to defend myself. THUS -" Draco rolled his eyes. "- I need to know what happened." He glared. "Not that you'd care."
"You're right. I don't care. But why me?"
"Why not you?"
Harry was suddenly uncomfortable - whether it was from the honesty in Draco's words, or the look he was giving him, he couldn't tell. Whatever it was, it sent shivers up his spine - causing him to shift in his seat.
Draco's eyes widened. "Was it that bad?"
"No! Well, yes, actually. I just...don't know where to start."
Draco sighed. "I know that I started spouting off some very...odd statements...and that I jumped onto Snape's back after declaring my undying love for him...but that's about it. Professor Snape wasn't exactly proficient in divulging the details."
"So you want to know exactly what it was you said?"
"YES." Draco rolled his eyes again. "Didn't I just say that?"
"And if I tell you, will we be even?"
"Not even close."
"Right." Harry took a deep breath. "The first thing you said was that you wet your bed till you were twelve."
~silence~
"Malfoy?"
~silence~
"I really fucking hate you."
~silence~
"Yeah, I know."
~*~
Dinner that night came quicker than Draco had wanted it to. Madam Pomfrey had declared him fit enough to go back amongst the masses, but he lingered around a while longer. At first, he simply inquired about concussions and the signs that would indicate brain damage, and Poppy was more than happy to relay her knowledge on the subject - but she soon grew weary of his endless questioning, and she dismissed him to the Great Hall.
Draco scolded himself as he made his way down the corridor; silently, he thanked the gods that his father hadn't been there to see his blatant display of cowardice. Draco was thankful his father hadn't seen quite a lot of things.
Talking casually with Potter, for instance. What in Merlin's name possessed him to do that?
'Blame it on the head injury.'
A mild concussion forced him to exchange pleasantries with his arch nemesis. It was a good story, and it was necessary. Crabe and Goyle would've been little help in divulging the details of that morning, and Draco needed to know. The knowledge was crucial, not only for his own sanity, but for his safety.
Calling the Noblest House in all of Hogwarts 'home' had its perks, and its downsides. Boldness and power were rewarded; cowardice and weakness were, well - exploited.
'Damn you Potter...'
That raven-haired bastard was the cause of all his grief and embarrassment - and when the time came, Draco would be more than happy to return the favor.
But first, a healthy dose of damage control was in order.
He had been running away from this all day, and it was time to face it. So what if the entire school knew his deepest secrets? Who's to say they're true? Nobody but Draco knew that for sure; well, perhaps Pansy knew a bit of it...
'Stop thinking that! She doesn't know anything! No one knows a thing. It's all speculation at this point.'
Draco stroked his battered ego back to health as he made his way closer to the Great Hall.
'I can beat this. I can beat anything.'
Slowly, his posture inched back up to its original poise.
'I'm still Draco.'
His stride gathered in strength and dignity.
'I'm still a Malfoy.'
The smirk returned rightfully home, and none too soon. Draco slicked back his hair, straightened his robes, and strode confidently into the Great Hall - head held high.
~*~
Quick note: I stole Harry's line "Pot...kettle...black." From someone! I just don't remember whom! So, if that was a line from your story, let me know! Or if you know whose story it was from...clue me in. I hate stealing things without giving credit to those who were creative enough to think them up on their own. lol
Lyra: *grins* There is definitely something going on with Ron - hopefully it'll become more evident as the story moves along. And Harry's feelings for him? Hmmmmm...we shall see.
ROGUE-sorceress: *laughs* I've snorted and giggled simultaneously MANY times before...lol That's probably the best physical response I could hope for in a reader! And yeah, the conversation between Snape & Dumbledore was pretty exhausting to write. But writing Dumbledore has always been a challenge for me...*sighs*...he's so - ELUSIVE! Lol
Icarus: *blushes* You have my FULL blessings to use that conversation (or the idea at least). I'm flattered you liked it so much! And yes, PLEASE keep me updated on the 'Hagrids Hut' scene...*giggles madly*...I cannot wait! Feel free to make it as steamy as you want...the more steam, the better.
Morri: *grins madly* Sorry it took me so damn long! And YES, please keep those vibes coming! They always help me get my arse in gear...
Jekyll: *laughs loudly* I'm so glad someone picked up on that! Yeah, Harry's suggestions no longer have any hold in Draco's mind...and it's a shame too. What's worse? Harry doesn't realize it. *evil laughter* And hey, kick Snape once for me, too.
Frannie: *laughs again as she reads yer e-mail/review* Yes, things are good again - as ff.net has blessedly decided to work FOR the public, as opposed to AGAINST it. *grins sardonically* But hey, thank you for being willing to go undercover for me! You're the BEST, Frannie. *big hug* And hey! Congratulations on finishing up 'Waiting for Draco'!!! Only one of the best stories I've ever read...*nudge nudge*
A/N: If I wish hard enough, I may get a teensy bit of credit for a little bit of the plot...but I sure as hell am NOT getting paid for any of this! Lol
Summary: After a brief, but informative, conversation with Dumbledore, Snape continues his plan of - (shhhh...it's a secret!) Hermione's just told Harry & Ron a bit too much info, and Harry's on his way to the Infirmary to give Malfoy...*shudder*... his lunch. Could this day get any longer!?!?!?!?!
Thanks: Will be given at end of chap. *grins*
Hey there and hello again you wonderful people you. How was everyone's holiday? Mine was - hectic. Hey, it's over now, so it's all good! Just a quick note/shameless plug : "The Greater Good, or the Lesser Evil" by LadyRhiyana is a FABULOUS story - and I would recommend you stop reading mine, and go read hers! It's now complete, and it's amazing.
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1000431
And no, she didn't ask me to do that. lol
~*~
'Damnit Malfoy...'
Harry cursed the blonde under his breath as he struggled down the corridor. Most everyone else was still at lunch, which he was most grateful for; Harry would rather have faced Voldemort bare-ass naked than be seen serving Malfoy his lunch - rather ungracefully at that.
The Hogwarts' house elves had outdone themselves - not that any of them particularly liked Malfoy, but he was sick. And sick students needed substantially more food than 'well' ones, apparently. That, or Snape had a say in the menu. Regardless, Draco's tray was overflowing with delectable goodies - far more appealing than anyone else's' lunch that day. It did little to help Harry's mood, or balance for that matter.
It was a struggle just to keep upright. Draco's tray of food was certainly heavy, but not as heavy as the bag that kept slipping off his shoulder and onto his arm. The sudden balance shift almost caused the tray to flip, forcing Harry to stop and re-adjust himself several times.
'Stupid Malfoy...Stupid Snape...Stupid...'
This would've been much easier had Snape allowed Ron or Hermione to come along.
Ron...
A small smile made its way to Harry's lips as he thought of his friend - providing a brief distraction from the humiliating situation he found himself in. It grew wider as he remembered the look on the redhead's face when he changed in front of him. A low chuckle escaped. It wasn't a nice thing to have done, and most would probably consider it cruel - but oh gods, was it funny.
'I wonder if he's still having those dreams about me...'
Dreams...
The amulet!
The day had been so chaotic, Harry had almost forgotten about it. A moment of panic struck him, causing his blood to run cold.
Where was it?
He stopped and wiggled his hips slightly, trying to feel if it was in his cloak pocket. No - not there. He had gotten ready for class in such a hurry that morning; he couldn't remember what he had done with it. Surely he left it in his room. Yes. That's where it was. In his room. On the bedside table, by the clock.
A relieved sigh escaped him as he started walking again.
How stupid he was...leaving it out in the open, like that. Not that anyone in his House would be likely to steal it, but Gryffindors were curious by nature. Questions would rise...
'What is that?' 'Where did you get it?' 'What's it do?' 'Did you hear what happened to Malfoy?'
Too many questions...
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head softly. He would have to be more careful; especially after what happened to Malfoy...
Draco.
A small pang of guilt rang through his chest as he remembered the day's events, and the part he had played in all of it.
'Stop thinking this. He would've done the same thing if HE had the amulet instead of you, so just stop. HE wouldn't feel bad.'
Harry glanced down at the tray he was carrying, and he quickened his pace.
'He deserved it. Remember that; he deserved it.'
A forced smile spread across his lips as he turned the corner.
He had reached the doors to the Infirmary, and had he not been so caught up in his own thoughts, he would've seen the small, but formidable group of Slytherin girls who had gathered.
"Happy to be bringing Draco his lunch are we, Potter?" drawled Pansy Parkinson.
"He looks a little TOO happy, if you ask me." Ebony Mordacity, another sixth-year Slytherin, raised a delicately trimmed eyebrow.
Harry grimaced. "No one asked you. Excuse me..." He quickly walked past the girls and was almost to the doors before...
"Wait! Don't go yet!"
A small shudder made its way down Harry's spine at the shrill voice that called out behind him. It was a small wonder the 'Slytherin' population of the Wizarding World ever reproduced, he mused. 'I wonder how Malfoy puts up with it?'
"Yes?"
Pansy slithered up to him. "We were wondering..."
"Since you're already going in..." Ebony joined her.
"Do you suppose you could..."
"...do us a favor?" The two girls grinned coyly.
~wince~
"I suppose," he sighed. "What do you..."
"FABULOUS!" They chimed in unison. And before Harry could get another word in, he was bombarded - lost in a sea of silver and green estrogen.
"Where can we...?" "There's no room..." "What about his mouth?" "Oooh! Good idea, Millicent!"
Had Harry's arms not been otherwise occupied, he could've fended for himself. But alas, they were - so he stood there, defenseless, unable to block the hoard of delicately scented parchments that were suddenly, and violently, stuffed into his mouth.
"Thank you so very much, Potty." An unknown voice cackled in the background.
"Oh, do be a dear and not drool on them too much, would you?"
Pansy made no attempt to hide her pleasure in seeing the Gryffindor Golden Boy, (now teetering under the weight of the tray, book-bag hanging off his elbow, and mouth stuffed full of Slytherin 'Get Well Cards'), glare daggers at her.
It was moments like these that got her out of bed in the morning.
"Mmphough"
She couldn't decipher exactly what it was he said, but given the death stare he was wearing, she was sure it wasn't pleasant. Pansy smiled sweetly as she held the Infirmary door open.
"There's a good lad."
~*~
"Owww..."
Draco had given up on sleep exactly ten minutes after Snape left. Any effort appeared futile. Regardless of how he lay, and he had exhausted about every position he could think of, the ever-present throbbing would continue. The only arrangement that came close to working was on his stomach, but the fear of having his back exposed for too long prevented any real rest.
Besides, sleeping on his face always resulted in pillowcase- induced wrinkles.
So he sat, back up against the pillow, and read some of the Potions homework Snape had brought earlier. Truth-be-told, he wasn't that tired...but he had no desire to leave the Infirmary quite yet. And rushing headfirst into certain death was never one of his things.
Death...
The death of his reputation, his status; the death of whatever power he had over his House and its inhabitants; and worst of all, the death of his fear. Not HIS fear, per say, but the fear he instilled in others. How could anyone in their right mind fear him now?
Before this morning, he was looked up to; he was the poster child for all that was powerful. His very name invoked terror in the hearts and souls of Mudbloods everywhere. He was a Malfoy.
And now...
He was human. He had fears. He had doubts. He had secrets. And now...the whole world knew them all. Blast it! If only Snape had been more liberal with his story, he would know them as well. He was a laughingstock, a blemish on the name 'Malfoy', and he hadn't a clue as to what he had said.
Father...
Word would have reached home by now. How would his father react? His mother? Draco inwardly winced at the thought. Surely they wouldn't disown him, not over a prank...but a prank at his expense?
"Damnit..."
Draco groaned and threw the Potions textbook down; his hands were trembling. Draco's sixth year was not supposed to be this way. HE was not supposed to be this way. He was not supposed to be cooped up in the school Infirmary, too afraid to leave on his own accord. When had his life become so foreign? What had he done, or better yet, what could he have done differently? His head swam with questions. Too many questions, and not enough answers.
The sound of shrill laughter snapped Draco out of his self- induced trance.
"Fucking hell, not Pansy..."
Not ready to face the world, and nowhere near ready to face Pansy Parkinson and her troop, Draco flipped over onto his stomach and feigned sleep.
~*~
Harry staggered into the Infirmary, completely off-balance and nearly knocking Madam Pomfrey over in the process.
"What in the...Merlin's beard, Mr. Potter?" The wide-eyed medi- witch gave him a once-over, only to have him answer with a pleading look.
"Alifflehlfereplse!" Translated: 'A little help here, please!'
"Ah, lunch. Good of you to bring it." Ignoring his mumbling, Madam Pomfrey nodded in Draco's direction. "Do try not to disturb him, he needs his rest." And in one quick motion, she turned back to her office, completely missing his frustrated glare.
"Ilgvusmfphgtodstrb..." Translated: 'I'll give you something to disturb...'
~*~
Back in his bed, Draco was listening intently to the commotion just beyond earshot. The only two words that made any sense at all were 'Potter' and 'Lunch'.
Still feigning sleep, Draco inwardly groaned and tried to disappear under the covers.
'Fabulous...simply fabulous.'
~Footsteps~
'Prolly come to gloat, the bastard...'
~Closer now~
'Or perhaps, he's come to poison me...finish the job...though, that does sound appealing right about now...'
"FWAGH!" (A/N: Author's interpretation of what someone spitting out a mouthful of paper sounds like.)
Draco's internal bickering was cut short, due to the pile of mildly damp parchment that had elegantly landed on his face - causing a mean paper cut to form on his cheek.
"Argh!" Forgetting sleep due to the 'wetness' of his face, Draco sat up violently, plucking off the drool-infested paper. "Bloody hell, Potter! What...what is all this?"
"This," Harry dropped the tray onto Draco's lap, "is your lunch. And THIS," he spat out the remaining letter, "is your fan mail." With an exhausted sigh, Harry collapsed onto the chair beside Draco's bed.
Draco made a face. "Why is my 'fan mail' covered in spit?"
Harry only growled in response.
"Well," Draco sat up, regaining his poise, "It's about time you got here." He paused a moment. "Why ARE you here?"
"Snape." Harry gathered his things together. "Enjoy your lunch, Malfoy."
He chuckled. "Of course."
THIS was Snape's punishment for Potter...Snape being the judge and jury, leaving himself to be the executioner. A deliciously evil smirk made its way to Draco's lips. It was up to him, now.
"The least you can do is keep me company, Potter." Malfoy drawled, his eyes piercing through the back of the Gryffindor's head. "You owe me that much."
"I owe you?" Harry spun around, his last nerve spent. "I OWE you?"
"Are you daft, Potter? Or have all those years of everyone singing your praises made you deaf? You-OWE-me."
Harry scoffed, "Of all the nerve..."
"We both know you're to blame for..." He gestured his surroundings. "...for THIS."
"I don't know what you're talking about." The familiar twinge of guilt pulled inside Harry's chest, but he would be damned if he showed it.
Draco laughed. "You play 'dumb' so well, Potter...I almost hate to ask you to stop."
"You got what you deserved." It sounded so much better in his head, but when he actually said it, it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than Malfoy.
"What I deserved...?"
"Yes." Harry interjected. "Yes, you deserved it..." his eyes skirted the floor. "Whether or not I did it isn't the..."
"Unbelievable!" Draco stared at him, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. "You self-centered, pompous little..."
"Pot...Kettle...Black." Harry's voice had risen considerably.
"I always knew beneath all that 'Gryffindor' armor you were a little coward, but to be completely devoid of ANY principle..."
"You're one to talk to ME about honor, Malfoy."
"You don't know the meaning of the word."
"YOU wouldn't know an honorable action if it slapped you in the face! Which, I'm sure it has on many occasions."
"At LEAST I have the courage of my convictions, Harry." Draco's words spat out so fast; neither boy realized he had actually called the other by his first name. "I don't hide behind anything! I AM what I say, and everyone knows it."
"Yes, EVERYONE knows it." Harry's tone rivaled the ice that had collected in his veins. "At least, they do now..."
"...thanks to you." The pain he felt was evident, and for the first time, Draco made no attempt to hide it.
"I didn't see you lining up to take credit for my little 'accident' on Friday."
Draco looked at him thoughtfully, the smirk still plastered securely on his face. "Yes, well...I don't suppose I had the chance, now did I?"
Harry looked at Draco; Draco looked at Harry. A thousand comebacks lined up and ready to spit out - but they didn't. Instead, Harry lowered his gaze, along with his body, and sat down. It was the years of pent-up bitterness that had kept him arguing this long; he was surprised to find it already spent. Now, he was just tired. And by the look of him, it appeared Draco was too.
"I guess this makes us even."
The Slytherin looked at him spitefully. "We are FAR from even."
Harry sighed, "Aren't you tired of this pissing contest?"
"No."
"What do you want from me, Malfoy? An apology? A truce? What?" He leaned back in his chair. "You must want something."
"Don't presume to know what I want...besides, I believe I already offered you a truce, Potter." He smirked. "And you can see how well that turned out."
Harry leaned forward. "WHEN did you ever offer me a truce?"
Draco laughed, but not quite as bitterly as before. "Your memory is pathetic. It's a wonder you've passed any classes at 'all." He began picking at his lunch.
Harry snorted. "That would be Hermione's doing."
"Ah, yes...the Mudblood. Too smart for her own good."
"Why do you call her that?"
Draco looked at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Because that's what she is."
Too tired to argue, Harry leaned back against the chair again.
"What color is the sky in that evil world of yours, Malfoy?"
"Purple."
His answer caught Harry so off-guard, he let down the 'Gryffindor' wall and actually laughed.
"What? You asked."
Harry shook his head, his shoulders still bouncing from laughter.
"Merlin, Potter...calm down. It wasn't that funny."
"Why purple?"
Draco shrugged. "Why not purple?"
Harry considered it, and then nodded. "It suits you."
"Everything suits me."
"No. Not everything."
Draco raised a challenging eyebrow. "Are you suggesting there's a color that wouldn't look good on me?"
Harry countered with the opposite eyebrow. "Are you suggesting periwinkle blue WOULD look good on you?"
The blonde leaned forward a bit. "Are you envisioning me in periwinkle blue?"
Harry leaned in as well. "Are we really having this conversation?"
"I think we are."
"This day is getting scarier by the moment."
"Tell me about it." Draco looked at him. "No, seriously. Tell me about it. If not you, then somebody - cause I can't remember a bloody thing."
Harry chuckled softly. "Do you really want to know?"
"Of course I don't want to know, Potter! But I have to! If I'm going to survive the rest of my collegiate experience in once piece, I'm going to need to know how to defend myself. THUS -" Draco rolled his eyes. "- I need to know what happened." He glared. "Not that you'd care."
"You're right. I don't care. But why me?"
"Why not you?"
Harry was suddenly uncomfortable - whether it was from the honesty in Draco's words, or the look he was giving him, he couldn't tell. Whatever it was, it sent shivers up his spine - causing him to shift in his seat.
Draco's eyes widened. "Was it that bad?"
"No! Well, yes, actually. I just...don't know where to start."
Draco sighed. "I know that I started spouting off some very...odd statements...and that I jumped onto Snape's back after declaring my undying love for him...but that's about it. Professor Snape wasn't exactly proficient in divulging the details."
"So you want to know exactly what it was you said?"
"YES." Draco rolled his eyes again. "Didn't I just say that?"
"And if I tell you, will we be even?"
"Not even close."
"Right." Harry took a deep breath. "The first thing you said was that you wet your bed till you were twelve."
~silence~
"Malfoy?"
~silence~
"I really fucking hate you."
~silence~
"Yeah, I know."
~*~
Dinner that night came quicker than Draco had wanted it to. Madam Pomfrey had declared him fit enough to go back amongst the masses, but he lingered around a while longer. At first, he simply inquired about concussions and the signs that would indicate brain damage, and Poppy was more than happy to relay her knowledge on the subject - but she soon grew weary of his endless questioning, and she dismissed him to the Great Hall.
Draco scolded himself as he made his way down the corridor; silently, he thanked the gods that his father hadn't been there to see his blatant display of cowardice. Draco was thankful his father hadn't seen quite a lot of things.
Talking casually with Potter, for instance. What in Merlin's name possessed him to do that?
'Blame it on the head injury.'
A mild concussion forced him to exchange pleasantries with his arch nemesis. It was a good story, and it was necessary. Crabe and Goyle would've been little help in divulging the details of that morning, and Draco needed to know. The knowledge was crucial, not only for his own sanity, but for his safety.
Calling the Noblest House in all of Hogwarts 'home' had its perks, and its downsides. Boldness and power were rewarded; cowardice and weakness were, well - exploited.
'Damn you Potter...'
That raven-haired bastard was the cause of all his grief and embarrassment - and when the time came, Draco would be more than happy to return the favor.
But first, a healthy dose of damage control was in order.
He had been running away from this all day, and it was time to face it. So what if the entire school knew his deepest secrets? Who's to say they're true? Nobody but Draco knew that for sure; well, perhaps Pansy knew a bit of it...
'Stop thinking that! She doesn't know anything! No one knows a thing. It's all speculation at this point.'
Draco stroked his battered ego back to health as he made his way closer to the Great Hall.
'I can beat this. I can beat anything.'
Slowly, his posture inched back up to its original poise.
'I'm still Draco.'
His stride gathered in strength and dignity.
'I'm still a Malfoy.'
The smirk returned rightfully home, and none too soon. Draco slicked back his hair, straightened his robes, and strode confidently into the Great Hall - head held high.
~*~
Quick note: I stole Harry's line "Pot...kettle...black." From someone! I just don't remember whom! So, if that was a line from your story, let me know! Or if you know whose story it was from...clue me in. I hate stealing things without giving credit to those who were creative enough to think them up on their own. lol
Lyra: *grins* There is definitely something going on with Ron - hopefully it'll become more evident as the story moves along. And Harry's feelings for him? Hmmmmm...we shall see.
ROGUE-sorceress: *laughs* I've snorted and giggled simultaneously MANY times before...lol That's probably the best physical response I could hope for in a reader! And yeah, the conversation between Snape & Dumbledore was pretty exhausting to write. But writing Dumbledore has always been a challenge for me...*sighs*...he's so - ELUSIVE! Lol
Icarus: *blushes* You have my FULL blessings to use that conversation (or the idea at least). I'm flattered you liked it so much! And yes, PLEASE keep me updated on the 'Hagrids Hut' scene...*giggles madly*...I cannot wait! Feel free to make it as steamy as you want...the more steam, the better.
Morri: *grins madly* Sorry it took me so damn long! And YES, please keep those vibes coming! They always help me get my arse in gear...
Jekyll: *laughs loudly* I'm so glad someone picked up on that! Yeah, Harry's suggestions no longer have any hold in Draco's mind...and it's a shame too. What's worse? Harry doesn't realize it. *evil laughter* And hey, kick Snape once for me, too.
Frannie: *laughs again as she reads yer e-mail/review* Yes, things are good again - as ff.net has blessedly decided to work FOR the public, as opposed to AGAINST it. *grins sardonically* But hey, thank you for being willing to go undercover for me! You're the BEST, Frannie. *big hug* And hey! Congratulations on finishing up 'Waiting for Draco'!!! Only one of the best stories I've ever read...*nudge nudge*