Disclaimer: Characters and whatnot belong to J.K. Rowling, and I bow down to her powers. The lyrics at the beginning belong to The Cure, and I am none of them. Nor am I any part of Nine Inch Nails, which is the group that owns the lyrics at the bottom of this fanfiction chapter.
Author's Note: We're sorry that it's taken us so long to update, it took Shannon (magickbeing) a bit longer to convert/beta then planned. Hopefully the next update won't take as long, but no promises. Also, we're looking for a more full-time beta to go through chapters of this after they've been converted into a readable format... if anyone's interested, please say so in your review. Please don't be discouraged if someone has already volunteered.
We apologise for any errors in this chapter, please bear with us as there may be more than usual.
Oh, and another reminder; this is pretty much our-- slashy--version of HBP. It might be less detailed, but if you've read it, you'll get it, and it may give some of the book away if you haven't.
.x.
Out of This World
By SecondHand & MagickBeing
.Chapter Four
And I know we have to go,
I realise we only get to stay so long..
- Out of This World, The Cure
Harry awoke the next Friday night—hot, sweaty and thoroughly annoyed with himself.
Was it impossible for him to actually sleep for more than two hours at a time? He glanced at the clock next to his bed on his night stand. It read 12:13 A.M. He groaned and kicked his covers off of his body.
"So bloody hot," he mumbled to himself.
"What?"
It was Ron, sleepily speaking to Harry in the darkness.
"Nothing, it's just hot," Harry replied, setting his feet on the ground next to his sneakers, whispering, "go back to sleep."
Harry hoped that the redhead was doing his normal talking in his sleep bit and that he would lay right back down.
"But Harry, I have to go to Potions, where we have to sit and listen to Slughorn's ugly mouth and endure Malfoy's ugly face," he slurred, clearly still sleeping.
"He's not ugly," Harry said, then cursed himself for speaking out loud.
But Ron was already back to sleep, snoring ever so lightly, which was really more of a deep breathing. Harry shook his head. He had gone five days without seeing the blond, really, and they'd only had one encounter since then, aside from potions, and it was because Ron had run into Crabbe accidentally and the two goons went off, leaving Draco and Harry to stage a fight. Harry wondered if people could tell that there wasn't as much anger in the words as there usually was. Sighing, he shoved his feet into his shoes and lifted a light wind breaker from the desk chair, along with his invisibility cloak. Now that he was awake, and it was to insufferably hot to sleep again—and Ron had decided to bring up Malfoy—Harry wanted air.
He silently slipped out of the room, cursing again as he realised he had forgotten to bring along his map. Oh well, no time now. He made his way slowly—too slowly, up to the Astronomy Tower, the cool air of the changing season hitting his face as he opened the heavy doors that lead outside. He walked over to the ledge, leaning his forehead against the cold stone surface, trying to push all thoughts away.
Draco slipped out of his dormitory with ease, with every intention of going to the Owlery. His mother had owled earlier that evening, wanting to know why he hadn't written. As it turned out, his father's trial was lasting longer then expected. Most people had thought it would be quick and clean; after all, there were mounds of evidence against his father this time; too much to buy. And yet, the trial had been going on for over a week and a half, which surprised many. Draco was sure that his mother was in pieces by now and had been unsurprised when he saw several small, dark spots on her letter. She had probably been crying. He knew that she had been doing a lot of that lately... after all, their family was being torn apart.
The contents of the letter had read the usual; she asked how he was doing, why he hadn't written, and when Quidditch would be starting. It was clear to Draco that, for the most part, she was trying to avoid writing about Lucius. Usually, Draco wouldn't have thought anything of it. He would have just set the letter aside and wrote his mother in the morning, but something inside of him, in his gut, was telling him that there was more, and to be on the safe side, Draco had soon found himself sitting in front of the fire preforming the revealing spell his father had taught him. As it turned out, there was more. She wanted to know if he had decided; she wrote that the time would be coming soon, and if he didn't answer, there were men that wouldn't be pleased. Of course, Draco knew who these men were. After that, he had promptly thrown the letter into the fire and had watched it shrivel and burn. For awhile, he had debated not answering. But he knew what he had to do, and that led him to where he was now—sneaking out of his dormitory, wand and parchment in hand, on the way to the Owlery.
Again, he was wearing entirely black, and for the most part, he blended into the shadows. He was relieved when he didn't find that blasted cat or her owner patrolling the halls. When Draco arrived to the Owlery, he was certain not to take too long. He promptly found his owl, tied his letter to the bird's leg, and hurried from sight. Instead of going back down to the Dungeons, however, Draco crept outside. He knew he wouldn't be able to get much sleep now; so much depended on his mother's reaction to his letter.
Stepping outside, Draco looked up at the cloudy sky. Not a star was in sight, making it incredibly dark, but he didn't light his wand in fear of someone seeing.
Harry lifted his head from the cool stone, the invisibility cloak still draped over his head, his fear of being caught out of bed after hours running deep. He couldn't afford detention right now. He had too many things that he was attempting to do, and he was finding that he hadn't enough time or energy to do most of it, and that too many thoughts were running through his head to sleep and actually catch up on his sleep at the same time. He supposed that he could always go to bed in a couple of hours and sleep a few hours later than most of the students usually did, seeing how it was Saturday, and that there weren't any classes, but he did have Quidditch try-outs the next day.
He groaned inwardly. He really should go to sleep so that he could function well enough to choose the new players wisely...
Sighing, he let his eyes scan over the brilliant view of Hogwarts' grounds. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, at least for Hogwarts. Everything was black, unlike last week when he had been outside and the sky was full of stars and rain clouds. Stepping away from the ledge, a small movement over by the lake caught his eye. Squinting and moving back towards the ledge, he could see that someone, who he recognised right away as Draco Malfoy, was making their way to the lake. Cocking his head, he noted that the person was dressed head to toe black, perhaps to blend in with the darkness. He made a mental note to remind Malfoy that he had hair the colour of snow, which stood out very much when trying to be sneaky in the middle of the night.
He didn't linger, though he wanted to stay and see what the blond would do, knowing that even if Draco were to look up, he wouldn't see Harry. But Harry wanted to stop thinking about the other boy, it only confused his mind more. So he slowly and silently made his way back to bed, opting to read his Potions book by candle light for awhile.
Draco walked slowly toward the lake; ever since running into Harry there, it had become the usual place for him to think at. He sat near the edge of the shore, legs outstretched, and picked up a stone as he had before, a sense of familiarity coming to him. He tossed it up into the air for good measure, catching it with ease, and tried making his mind think about something other then his mother, or his father for that matter. After a few uncomfortable moments of trying to force his thoughts, but not succeeding, Draco tossed the rock into the water, small, tiny waves lapping at the shore. A few bubbles appeared near the centre of the lake, signifying the Giant Squid's movement as the stone sunk downward, but other on, it remained still. Draco laid back, crossing his arms beneath his head, and stared up at the sky. Quidditch try-outs would be next Sunday for Slytherin and Draco was still unsure of whether or not he was going to play, though he knew he would have to make up his mind soon. Thinking of choices, Draco's mind wandered back to his parents. He scowled, sitting up and hurrying to his feet.
If he was going to think about things he didn't want to anyway, he might as well do it in the familiarity of his own warm bed.
.xxXxxXxxXxx.
The next day proved to be a great day for Quidditch try-outs; a light breeze and no rain.
Harry pushed his way through try-outs, having picked the best team he could possibly get given the students trying out. Afterwards he found himself talking lightly with Ginny Weasley, smiling and laughing more than he had in a long time. He found himself thinking to himself, she's beautiful. The way her red hair reminded him of the Autumn leaves, and her attitude reminded him of a less know it all Hermione; determined to get what she wants and bitchy to the end, he found himself admiring her. But she was with Dean... big no no. He couldn't mess around with he friend's girlfriend, even if him and Dean weren't the greatest of friends.
He bit his lip as she said goodbye and bravely placed a light kiss on her cheek, sending promises of a Hogsmeade trip with each other sometime—even though she had politely told him that she was with Dean and that she would be going with him.
He found himself, at twilight, sitting against the trunk of an old tree just to the side of the Lake, right next to the Forbidden Forest.
Great, another thing to add to my list, he thought to himself, letting his head fall against the wood.
.xxXxxXxxXxx.
After dinner, Draco shut himself in the canopy of his bed, scowling.
Who did Pansy think she was, trying to maul him like that? He could still feel her hands pressed against his body, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered 'sweet nothings' to him, and he suppressed a shudder. Withdrawing his wand, he cast a non disturbance charm on his bed and after that, a silencing charm, causing the green curtains to ripple and fold as the magic weaved itself into the fabric.
Leaning his back against the headboard, Draco pulled his knees near his chest, resting his arms on them. Taking a few, calm, deep breaths, Draco resisted the urge to vomit. Granted, dinner hadn't been the best, but he doubted it would taste any better coming back up. Forcing himself to swallow the lump forming in his throat, Draco closed his eyes, his head leaning backwards. He tried resisting his thoughts of his parents, and soon, he heard the dormitory door open and someone step in. Softly, Blaise called his name, but Draco ignored him. He sighed, calmly telling Draco that Pansy was looking for him. Draco grimaced and said nothing. Soon, the other Slytherin left, Draco's thoughts returning with a vengeance. Silently seething, Draco refused to speak to any of his room mates for the rest of the night as they retired to their beds, talking softly amongst themselves. He only stirred when the soft chattering had gotten on his nerves and he decided to go for a walk. At this decision part of him brightened, remembering that Harry would probably be out and about.
Draco tried to ignore that part, as he slipped a pair of boots on and stepped from the safety of his bed, ignoring the curious gazes from his room mates.
They knew better then to ask.
When Draco stepped outside, a brisk wind hit his face and unknowingly, his eyes scanned the horizon. There were a few students milling about, but none that should bother him. Walking down the cement steps, Draco walked towards the farthest tree from other students. It wasn't very late, so there was no point of Draco heading toward the Quidditch Pitch yet. And even if it hadn't been, there were too many students wandering across the grounds.
Leaning up against the old, gnarled oak, Draco crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze wandered to the sky, where an owl flew, no doubt to the Owlery. Thinking of that, Draco's stomach turned. He had yet to get a reply from his mother. She was no doubt furious. He scowled at the thought; as if she had a right to be. She had to know how much they were asking from her only son, didn't she? Lowering his eyes, Draco watched someone he barely recognized to be from Gryffindor head toward the castle, and then spotted a familiar head of dark hair. His scowl twisted into a smirk at the boy, who looked to be sleeping, and he remembered something interesting he had seen whilst walking past the Quidditch Pitch earlier that day.
The tree's bark dug through his shirt as he slid to the ground, legs outstretched in front of him as he sat, deep in thought. He waited for the remaining students to enter the castle, sending a glare or two to anyone that was brave enough to near him. The sky was much darker now and Draco briefly wondered how long he had been sitting there thinking.
Lifting himself from the ground, his eyes scanned the grounds again to make sure that no one was left out; except for a certain Gryffindor that was still leaning against a tree. Smirking, Draco made his way over to Harry, sending a weary glance to the castle. As he neared Harry, he stood there for a short while, studying him. His hair was as messy as usual, a few dark strands splayed across his forehead, and his glasses were annoyingly crooked but he looked almost peaceful. Gently, Draco shifted his weight and toed Harry's leg with the tip of his boot.
Harry began to stir, and smirking, Draco murmured, "Morning, Sunshine."
Harry could hear the faint murmur of students and feel a few of the leaves fluttering around him, softly hitting his face from time to time—which was probably what pushed him into a deeper sleep. His body rocked lightly and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut when one of his straggling Gryffindor friends nudged him awake gently, and murmured something softly. He slipped his green eyes open, trying to focus on what friend had woke him up, and was oddly surprised to find that it was no Gryffindor at all.
Pushing his glasses back up on his nose, he looked around. The twilight had turned to darkness and there wasn't another soul in sight, aside from Malfoy.
Nice to know that my friends are looking out for me, he thought dryly, letting off a yawn and stretching a bit, a small, sleepy smile on his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was more bashful sounding than it had been when he was talking to Ginny earlier.
"Hi."
He scooted up, feeling a little more than slightly embarrassed by the Slytherin finding him asleep.
Draco looked down at the waking Gryffindor with a smirk. Harry was surprisingly quiet when he woke, his voice raspy with grogginess, and the small smile on his lips was priceless.
"How long have you been there?" Harry asked, still feeling a bit fuzzy from his little nap.
"And do you know how long I've been out?"
Harry brought his knees up to his chest, his lip in between his teeth again; two of his biggest nervous habits, and yet there was nothing to be nervous about. It wasn't as if he had been drooling or anything. His eyes went wide for a moment and his hand flew to his face, checking to see if it were dry.
All clear. Good, he thought to himself.
Again, he looked up bashfully at the other boy. "Care to sit?"
Draco's smirk only grew at the Gryffindor's hasty movements. Lifting an eyebrow, he nodded, saying, "Only for a few minutes."
He paused, his eyes meeting Harry's, "And, at least an hour and a half, or so."
And then, with one, languid movement, Draco was on the ground beside Harry, their shoulders brushing as leaned back on his arms.
Harry nodded; he couldn't believe that he had been out for that long.
"I was sort of surprised one of your house mates didn't wake you; Gryffindor loyalty and all that. There was a dark haired boy that looked like he was going to.." said Draco, trailing off, trying to think of the boy's name. Slowly, he glanced at Harry and said, "Derek?"
Harry licked his lips, getting the gritty feeling of sleeping with his mouth open off. He cocked his head to the side, pondering who could have been about to wake him up. Dark haired. Seamus was light brown, so it wasn't him. Ah, Dean had dark hair—it could have been him.
"Dean?" he asked, as if it really mattered. "Heh, they all just left me there, I suppose I'd have been caught out here 'round eleven when Filch and his ugly arsed cat did their rounds, if you hadn't have came to wake me up."
Draco watched Harry in silence as he spoke, only nodding when he had said Dean. That was the boy's name; he knew it had started with a d.
Harry took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes, sitting his glasses on his knee, balancing them there so he could run both of his hands through his hair, his shoulders and neck popping in the process.
He let out a small sighing sound, the popping feeling way too good.
Draco shifted his gaze, staring out at the sky. It was still cloudy. He glanced at Harry at the sound of his neck popping, and lifted an eyebrow.
"Sorry, I'm a bit of a day sleeper, I don't sleep much at night." Harry informed the blond, as if he needed to know.
Draco smiled slightly at that. In all honesty, he would have imagined Harry as a morning person, if he had ever really thought about it. Draco himself, though, knew what Harry was talking about. It was just easier to think at night, away from the chatter of people.
Harry smirked suddenly, placing his glasses back on his face. "Speaking of which, I'm not the only one. You know, wondering around at night in black clothes, it's a good idea. If you have hair like mine. You, however, need to wear a hat..."
Draco's grin widened a bit and he shrugged.
"Haven't got caught yet.. besides; me, wear a hat?"
He feigned an incredulous look, surveying Harry's face. He silently asked himself when he had gotten to friendly with the Gryffindor, joking with him as if it were the most natural thing in the world, which it wasn't. His expression melted and he tried blocking out his father's voice in his head, saying, "You saw me? I didn't think there was anyone else out here.."
Harry chuckled lightly, nodding at Malfoy, finding it oddly amusing that he didn't find it odd that Harry had managed to see him.
"I was up in the Astronomy tower, the air was nice, so I figured, why not?" he smirked, wiggling against the tree to rid himself of an itch that seemed to spread throughout his whole damn back. Draco watched this, Harry bumping into him, and he couldn't help but snicker at the Gryffindor.
"I have my ways of getting around without being caught," he stated, as if the blond didn't already know about his invisibility tricks. He remembered third year when he had scared the shit out of the Slytherins when they had been messing with Ron and Hermione at the Shrieking Shack. It was then that he thought that was before Sirius died, causing Harry's fond smile to falter, leaving him with a fake version of it.
Draco narrowed his eyes slightly at this statement, clearly remembering the day at the Shrieking Shack himself.
Harry cleared his throat, hoping his new fr—Malfoy, hadn't seen it, and asked, "So, what brought you out to the lake at ten 'till one?"
Lifting an eyebrow, Draco's face melted into it's usual apathetic mask, and he watched Harry's face closely as his expression flickered. He said nothing though, instead turning back to stare at the grass in front of him and gave a small shrug, unsure of whether or not he should tell Harry. Slowly, he said, "Just doing some errands."
He tossed a glance in Harry's direction, trying to ignore the curious look Harry was giving him.
Harry's senses perked. What could the blond be doing that late at night?
He apparently had to have been doing more than just going out for a stroll, or he would have said so. Instantly his old ways of thinking kicked back in. He wanted to jump and ask what he was doing; make the boy tell him. So what if Malfoy wasn't his father? He was close; he was influenced by him, you could tell just by looking at him. What if Malfoy were off doing something for him? But then, what if he wasn't? He bit his lip and sighed. If he was going to be the other's friend, he had to give him time. Maybe sometime, if Malfoy wanted to, he would tell Harry—on his own. Pushing down the urge to beg for answers, though it was killing him, he said.
"Get everything done?"
Draco was relieved that Harry didn't push him any further, though he could tell by the glint in his eyes, and the way his body visibly tensed, that he wanted to. He sighed, turning back to Harry. He knew the Gryffindor would have problems trusting him, and honestly, Draco would have been stupid to expect anything else. He knew he was being stupid, and maybe selfish as it was, sitting here and talking to Harry as if it weren't a big deal, because it was. It was a very big deal, and if his parents found out, he didn't know what he would do. But he had to talk to him, he had to find out if the choice his family was pushing him to make was the right one.
Giving Harry a soft, almost sad smile, Draco said, "Yeah. I did.."
Harry nodded, thinking nothing of the simple yeah. He let his head fall back against the tree, his eyes slip closed and he took another deep sigh, the fresh start of Autumn air filling his nose and making some of his old smile appear.
And suddenly, unsure of why he was about to say this, Draco said, "I'm sorry."
Harry tried to stop himself, but his eyes flew open, his head snapped up and his mouth dropped open.
"What?"
Malfoy was apologising? What the hell for? He asked himself.
It was a little late to be apologising for all of the things they had said in the past, so why even bother? He shook his head, clearing the shock out, Draco watching his reaction with a smirk.
"What for?" Harry asked, rephrasing his earlier outburst.
He licked his lips which had become dry from breathing so hard.
"I mean, you didn't do anything," he said, calming down; he didn't want to offend the other.
Draco watched Harry's reaction with a smirk. Hell, he had even surprised himself with that one; Malfoy's didn't apologise for things as petty as that—there were just some things that he couldn't tell people, what with the Malfoy name, and they were to accept that. He tried not to think of that too much, his smirk melting into a small smile, and lifted a shoulder slightly in a sort of shrug.
"I don't know. For not being able to tell you, I guess."
Silently, he added, I don't know why, but it feels weird keeping secrets.
He stared at Harry for a short while, before the urge to break the silence became overwhelming. He turned away, wishing that he wasn't so bad at small talk with Harry. Well, small talk that didn't involve jabbing, barbaric insults, that is.
Harry felt the urge to gawk and ask for an explanation. Since when did it matter that he couldn't tell Harry something that was none of his business? But he didn't. He simply cocked his head to the side, giving the blond a small smile and tried to understand. It was starting to become unreal. They were actually, well, friends. Enemies didn't apologise for small things such as that. He sighed lightly and bit his lip again. He was going out on the limb here, assuming things that he wasn't one hundred percent sure of yet, but he found himself wanting to try...
"You don't have to be... I'm sure, if you ever feel you need to, you'll tell me."
It sounded like something he would say to Ron. He found his cheeks flushing, so he looked down, pretending to be intrigued by the hems of his robes.
At the sound of Harry's voice, Draco turned, watching his cheeks change shades.
How touching.
His lips twisted into a small smirk, and he softly said, "Thanks."
He didn't know why he was suddenly so comfortable with Harry, but for some reason it didn't bother him as much as he knew it should. The sincereness behind Harry's words made him have the urge to blush himself, but he knew he didn't, or wouldn't. Just another lesson taught by his father. Draco sighed, eyeing the Gryffindor with a blank face.
"So.." he trailed off, an image from earlier that day flashing in his mind in his haste to take his thoughts from his father. He smirked, saying suddenly, "Do you blush like that with that Weasel girl?"
Why did you have to get all... Harry was thinking to himself as the blond muttered a small thanks, Harry's cheeks growing ever more red. And why do you have to blush as if he'd just said he saw you snogging in the Astronomy Tower after hours? He was getting that familiar annoyed feeling with himself again. However, his thoughts were quickly interrupted when Draco brought up Ginny.
"Excuse me?" he asked, his eyes wide, looking right into Malfoy's very stormy orbs. Intriguing colour of eye; it's like a cloudy evening with stars just barely spotting the sky, little white flecks... he thought, cocking his head to the side slightly.
Ginny.
He quickly looked away, shaking the image from his mind.
"What do you mean?"
Draco's smirk had grown at Harry's reaction. He had to admit, making Harry blush had it's perks to it.
Draco met Harry's gaze with his own, his smirk melting into a smile.
"I was walking by the Quidditch Pitch earlier.." said Draco, the only explanation he felt he had the need to give, inwardly enjoying making Harry squirm and blush; it was cute—innocent like. And then, Draco broke the eye contact, wondering what the hell was wrong with him now. If it wasn't one thing with him, it was another, wasn't it? He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of moments before looking back at the Gryffindor, forcing his smirk to return.
Harry scowled at being spotted.
"You saw me talking to her?" he asked, knowing it was a dumb question.
Draco gave Harry an incredulous look at this, wondering, is that not just what I said?
"It's nothing really, she's like my sister... well, sort of," continued Harry.
It was true, to; she had been some what of a sister since he had saved her, but now, now it was a bit different. He wondered what would lead Malfoy to think that he liked her. Ah, the kiss on the cheek, maybe. He thought of Hermione as a sister and he didn't go around kissing her on the cheek. He sighed.
"It's not like you've never fancied someone before, Malfoy," he stated, nodding in a as a matter of a fact way, his arms crossing over his chest.
Draco's smirk grew and he found himself snickering.
"Of course I have, Potter," he replied, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Harry just nodded, narrowing his eyes at Draco's laughter. Draco shifted his gaze, knowing that it was rude to laugh at the other and resisted the urge to mumble another apology as he calmed himself.
What in the hell has gotten into me tonight? Do I even know why I'm laughing?
Draco looked back at Harry, smiling slightly, and repeated, "Of course I have."
"Funny eh?" Harry started, scooting further away from the other boy. Draco watched this, his smile melting a bit; for once, he hadn't been trying to offend the Gryffindor. He shook his head slowly. It wasn't funny, and he regretted laughing.
"I don't know if I really like her," Harry started again, sighing. "I mean, I do. But it just happened so fast. It was like, woah, all of the sudden Ginny's not ten years old and writing silly little poems about me."
He paused, then saying, "You don't care, do you?"
He didn't know why he felt the need to talk to Draco, he just did, and what he was saying was true. While he did like Ginny, he didn't know where it had come from. She was beautiful and sweet and all, but what if he just wanted someone?
He shook his head, opting to keep that to himself.
Draco smiled slightly. Even though Harry had just been saying he wasn't sure of himself, Draco could see that some place inside of him, he was. The sound of Harry's voice dragged him back to what the Gryffindor was saying.
"I mean, she's beautiful. I don't care how much you hate her family, you know she is," Harry said, nodding.
Draco smirked a bit, wondering if Harry could keep a secret. Still smirking, he made a noise of agreement.
He was unsure of whether or not he should voice the fact that he thought he might prefer boys.
Harry cocked his head to the side his eyes taking in the blond's secretive smirk. He shrugged, trying not to think too much of it. He moved his body, rolling over onto his stomach so that he was laying flat out, and then back over so that he was laying on his back, his head propped up on his hands, his eyes scanning the blackish grey sky. A few stars were sprinkled over the stretch of it.
Like Malfoy's eyes, Harry thought to himself, inwardly cringing. He had never paid much attention, he had always just thought the blond's eyes were simply grey... and thinking of blond, Draco's hair wasn't really blond; it was white, almost sliver; it matched the moon.
He stiffened.
He never did this with Ron, the only comparison Harry had ever made about him was that he had hair like fire... friends, guy friends didn't sit and think of stuff like this.
He shrugged it off and looked down at the Muggle watch on his wrist—only eight thirty; they still had at least an hour before they would be punished for being outside... or an hour for fellow classmates to find them outside talking. He looked around, he would have to be careful, but suddenly the idea of being caught with Draco Malfoy didn't bother him so much. Who cared? They could piss off, he thought, nodding.
Harry looked up, his eyes resting on the other boy.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked, his mind forcing the thoughts of Malfoy's eyes out of it.
Draco had watched Harry lay down, shifting a bit where he was sitting at the same time, and leaning against the tree where the Gryffindor had once been. He watched Harry stare up at the sky, and his smirk shifted into a smile. He wondered if the Gryffindor knew how attractive he was; his eyes glittering as he stared at the clouds, a dim light cast over his slightly tanned complexion, outlining his lithe form, with robes sprawled out around him. Draco had the sudden urge to reach out and run his hands through his messy hair, wondering how it would feel beneath his fingers. He even let himself imagine how Harry would look without that wiry framed nuisance on his face before he realised what precisely he was imagining, which wiped the smile right off of his face.
As Harry turned to him, he could feel his cheeks take on a light flush; something which he was almost positive had never happened. At least not in recent years and at least not from embarrassment.
He forced himself to meet Harry's gaze.
Somehow, without stuttering, he managed to say, "Nothing."
And at that precise moment all he wanted to do was bury his head in the ground; something incredibly unMalfoyish. But then, Draco had been doing a lot of unMalfoyish things lately.
Harry smirked lightly, a soft chuckle rippling through his body, his stomach muscles contracting slightly.
"Sure you are," he said, arching a dark eyebrow, his fingers, which were still behind his head, brushing through the back of his hair. He let the silence file in for a moment, just enjoying the feel of the wind on his face and the pretty sights around him.
Draco couldn't stop it as a slight smile flickered across his face at the sound of Harry's laughter, and he watched in silence as Harry let the breeze caress his face. And again, the urge to touch the Gryffindor was almost impossible to resist. Almost.
It was then that Harry remembered something that he had once heard.
"Are you and Pansy, you know, together?" he asked lightly, not knowing how the blond would react to making a relationship public. "People are talking, ever since you took her to the Yule Ball in fourth year."
He paused and yawned softly, surprised that he was so tired. Could have been from the whole two and a half hours of sleep or so... but he wasn't counting.
"I know that was a while back... but, you know."
He was stumbling over his words—not good.
The abruptness of Harry's next question pulled Draco from his rather dirty thoughts and he looked at the other with lifted eyebrows, repeating the question in a slightly louder tone, "I... Pansy? Gods no." This earned a curious look from Harry and Draco continued, lowering his voice, "Our parents wanted us to go to the Yule Ball together. It was an arranged coupling; a pureblood tradition.."
Harry chuckled more, his smile showing, clearly, a set of white teeth. His aunt and uncle may not have taken much care of him. But he knew how to take care of himself. Unlike Dudley, who was a spoiled, ugly, pig of a boy. Much worse than Malfoy had probably ever been. He wondered what Malfoy was like as a child. Was he childish and whiny, or did he have to do things 'The Malfoy Way.' at age 5...
"You really don't like her, eh?" he asked, finding this even more amusing. "People talk, they swear that they can hear you snogging and shagging like rabbits every night in the Room of Requirement. Though I don't know how they'd hear you snog, let alone hear you in that room..." He pondered out loud.
Draco grinned a bit, as Harry did so, and then blanched at what he next said. His grin disappeared and he shook his head, "With Pansy? No," looking at Harry, he pulled a face, still shaking his head and said, "do you believe everything you hear?"
This, was the reason he never let his house mates tell him the rumours that went around about himself. Some things, he was better off not knowing. Like this. He suppressed a shiver, calming down as his eyes met Harry's. For some reason, he had the sudden urge to be honest; after all, Potter was a ruddy Gryffindor, he could keep a secret—all of that bloody loyalty to his friends and whatnot.
...but were him and Draco actually friends? Draco found he didn't quite have an answer to that one, at least not one he was sure of or completely fine with admitting, so he logically argued that even if Harry wanted to tell something Draco told him in confidence, who would believe him? After all, to the rest of the world, Harry and Draco were rivals.
Harry snickered, playfully, batting his lashes. "No; I think it was Broudstroul that said it. I'm not one for gossip..." he let out a soft snort.
Draco lifted an eyebrow as Harry playfully batted his eyelashes at him and he made a silent note to himself to talk to Broudstroul later. He watched as Harry changed positions and he had to drag his eyes away from Harry's lithe form, set on saying what he needed to.
"Not really, anyway," Harry continued.
He rolled over onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows, although this proved hard, as they sunk into the soft ground a bit. He cringed, but was brought from his task as the light haired boy spoke.
Choosing his words carefully, and cryptically, Draco said, "Besides, I don't think she has the right parts for what I'm starting to think I want.."
"You what?" Harry asked. Of course he knew, he wasn't that daft.
"You mean, you're..." his eyes went wide, and he looked at the other thoroughly intrigued.
"How do you know? I mean. Oh... " he didn't know what to ask, his words getting all jumbled. He looked up, eyes pleading, as if he were hoping the blond would help him.
The look Harry was giving him was priceless and Draco smirked as he floundered about for words. Finally, the Slytherin took pity on him and said, "I think I am... I don't know. I just.. find men more appealing then women," he paused, forcing his gaze away from Harry as he fought the blush he was sure was creeping onto his cheeks, "Besides. I think anyone that had Pansy pounce on them in dark corridors every which way, would probably feel the same way."
Harry's mouth was frozen in place, and he knew now that he was gawking.
He swallowed.
"I never thought of that possibility. I mean, for anybody. Well, I mean, I've heard of it... just didn't think that it happened to teens," he blushed.
"Shows how smart and with it I am."
He bit his lip, wanting to ask more question but not wanting to offend the other boy. He moved to sit up cross legged in front of his companion, his eyes sweeping over the other's form.
Harry was definitely gawking, as Draco could plainly see out of the corner of his eye, and for a moment he regretted telling him. No one else knew, and he didn't know what had possessed him to tell Harry. But then Harry began talking, and the regret washed away. This moment was to priceless not to enjoy. Silently, he added making Harry stutter to the list of things he liked watching the Gryffindor do; such as blushing. Draco watched him in silence as he moved to sit in front of of him, cross legged, and looked at him with bright eyes.
"Mm, so..." he squirmed a bit, "have you ever, you know, done anything?"
He felt like a giggly teenage third year girl, speaking of her first hand holding experience.
Draco lifted an eyebrow at the question and smirked.
"Why, Potter, are you asking for all of the dirty details?" he tisked, still smirking, "I had no idea you were so curious."
And again, the look Draco received was priceless.
Harry actually rolled his eyes.
"Don't be perverted. It's not like that..." he paused—yep, definitely a teenage girl. He cringed.
"I mean, I'm only curious because it's never crossed my mind. I've always thought that girls went with boys, and all. I had a, well, very strict aunt and uncle. Once Dudley brought home this magazine and it had two girls snogging... Aunt Petunia flipped out."
He bit his lip; he knew he sounded like a child, fascinated by something.
Draco listened to Harry talk with surprising attentiveness. He was fascinated as Harry began talking about his Aunt and Uncle. Of course, he had known that Harry lived with Muggles, but he hadn't heard any names. Apparently it wasn't something he liked to talk about much.
"I'm asking because I wanted to know how you know? Have you done anything to know? Or are you simply attracted to males?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side, his hand fiddling lightly in his lap. He was surely going to chew a hole through his bottom lip if he didn't stop chewing at it.
Draco tilted his head to the side with interest, as Harry finished his questions, and watched as he chewed on his lip. Draco was quick to move his gaze away from the Gryffindor's mouth, stopping those thoughts before they even started. Softly, he admitted, "I haven't really done anything. Crabbe tried kissing me when he was sleepwalking once, but that's a memory I'd prefer not to relive," he paused, shuddering at the mere thought, and continued, "it's more or less just an attraction.." he trailed off, his eyes focusing on Harry's. "A very strong attraction."
Harry outwardly cringed at the thought of Crabbe trying to kiss Malfoy.
"Oh, no," he said, not able to come up with anything else.
"I'm so sorry. I'd have 'Scorgified' my mouth and body about fifty times just to get the thought off of me," he said, being totally serious. He thought about the rest, cocking his head to the other side. Even Harry could admit when blokes looked alright, but that didn't make him a ponce in any fashion. He knew that there was much more than just finding someone attractive when it came to being with them. While he could tell a male that they looked alright, he couldn't imagine having a full snog session with one.
"I can admit when a bloke is alright," he voiced out loud, "I just can't imagine what it would feel like to kiss another male... granted I've kissed one girl, and it wasn't good at all... but, let alone do... that other stuff. Can you... actually?" he felt shivers rise over his arms, and he bit his lip again. He sighed, taking in the unique look of the Slytherin and those damn eyes.
"Why haven't you gotten someone, I mean, you're attractive enough," he said, swallowing and smirking at the word attractive.
Draco smiled lightly at Harry's response to the Crabbe-kissing story, which changed into a smirk as he said he couldn't imagine doing other stuff with another bloke. He thought it was sort of adorable the way Harry was acting so innocent and naive about this new information, and for once he didn't try to resist that train of thought. Draco was pulled from those thoughts, however, when Harry paid him a compliment.
Lifting an eyebrow, Draco smirked again.
"First of all, if I'm willing to admit that I'm probably gay, then yes, I can probably imagine doing other stuff with another bloke. Second of all, I haven't really wanted anyone.." he trailed off, part of him silently adding, until now, and he inwardly cursed that part. And then, he smirked again, a devious thought forming in his mind, a thought that Draco hoped would make Harry blush.
Repeating what he had said the other night, Draco said, "Third of all, you aren't too bad yourself."
Harry's cheeks flushed red at the compliment and his lips twitched into a small smile.
"Has that been a on going thing, or is it just slapping you in the face? 'Cause I could swear that four months ago, I was ugly and deformed," he chuckled. "I've not changed much since the end of fifth year..."
It was after that that Harry thought of what Draco had said; the answers were pretty apparent. Of course he could imagine it, but how... why would he want some blokes cock up his arse? He felt like asking the other that, but found it too lewd, which he found funny because if he were with Ron, he would have just said it—been as lewd as possible and not thought a thing about it. It was the same with his other dorm mates.
"I just can't imagine another bloke ... never mind," he said.
Draco, however, could imagine-- where that sentence was going. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out, and yet he chose not to answer. Instead, Draco gave Harry a small grin as his cheeks turned into a lovely shade of red. Softly, he replied to Harry's original comment, saying, "Both. Just.. took me awhile to notice. And I'd say you've changed.. I mean, you're not hexing me yet."
The second part he said in a rush, as if to cover up the first sentence, which he regretted saying. He hadn't even admitted that part to himself silently, why did he to Harry aloud? He had to admit, though, it felt good to say some of these things.
Harry smiled fully at the little blushes that graced Draco's ivory coloured cheeks. It was... cute and sweet, in a way, to see the Slytherin blushing, yet odd. Harry was thoroughly enjoying himself, but one small thought nagged at the back of his mind. Don't get used to it.
Malfoy probably just needs a friend right now, and you just happened to be here. Sooner or later, Mother and Father will get to him. And he'll crush you...
Harry kept his smile though, trying not to let the darkening thoughts taint his mood. I'll just have to remember not to get that close. He tilted his head to the side.
Draco glanced down at his hands as Harry stared. For a moment he was afraid that the Gryffindor had heard the first part of his sentence, and he resisted the urge to blush again. When Harry spoke, however, his suspicions were proved wrong. Either that, or if the Gryffindor had heard, he was pointedly ignoring it. Draco looked up as he spoke.
"I've not tried to hex you, because you've been on your best, or worse, by the eyes of some peoples, behaviours around me. You've not started a fight with us yet... Crabbe and Goyle seem to bring those on, you just put input in," Harry stated, the possibility that Draco was talking about his looks going right over his head.
"But really, we might want to get into it about something soon, people might start to talk," he smirked, turning and stretching his legs out in front of him, his right side to Draco. He lifted his arm, looking at the clock again, Draco watching as he did this, noticing how the face of the watch had a strange glow to it. He hadn't noticed the device until now, probably because Harry hadn't checked on it until then... and if he had, Draco hadn't noticed.
It was 9:00 PM according to Harry's watch... he had thirty minutes left. Time seemed to fly by when he talked to Malfoy; it made most of his bad thoughts slip away. He honestly could have sat out there all night long.
"I've got to go in, in about thirty minutes. I've got to see Dumbledore tonight..." Harry trailed off. He didn't need to say anything else about it, he knew that.
This meeting had become a bit awkward for Harry, but not so much that he wanted to leave... not yet anyway. He had just found out that day that Draco Malfoy was not only becoming his friend, but that he was gay and that the other may actually find him attractive and perhaps had always found him attractive. And the surprising thing was, Harry didn't mind at all. In fact, it made the other seem more interesting...
Little did Harry know, that it was becoming awkward for Draco, to. Not in the same sense, but awkward nonetheless. He had barely began acting civil to Harry, and all of a sudden he was pouring out his inner most secrets? Not good. He'd have to distance himself, and he knew it. He wanted Harry to think of him as a friend, and he wanted to think of Harry as one in
return. But friends, Draco was sure, hurt. They were a weakness, and if there was one thing Draco needed, it was another weakness. Sighing, he glanced back at Harry, eyeing the Gryffindor slowly. Why did things have to be so complicated? Because you're a Malfoy.
Draco lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing, only nodding at Harry's statement. Harry would tell him why he needed to see Dumbledore if wanted to. And he doubted he wanted to.
"Alright," he said carefully, "what time is it?"
Harry cocked his head to the side, taking in the boy in front of him again. Be careful flashed through Harry's mind once more, but he shook the thought away.
"Nine," he said slowly, "maybe a little after now."
He smiled, trying to lighten his mood up a bit.
"Have you kissed a girl before? I mean, really, not just non-consensually?" he asked, not wanting to talk about leaving just yet. He was dreading his new task with Dumbledore.
Draco let his eyes slip shut for a moment before Harry's question registered and he opened his eyes, allowing the all-to-common smirk to light his face again. Bloody Gryffindor curiosity.
"Have you seen the girls in Slytherin house?" he teased.
Harry smirked.
"That bad huh?" he shook his head, sighing lightly and continuing, "Pansy's cute..."
Draco only stared at Harry, continuing to do so as Harry stood, stretching his legs out and listening to the pops that followed. Having no intentions of leaving just yet, but instead walking, Harry slowly reached his hand down to Draco, offering to help him up.
Dracco lifted an eyebrow at this, his gaze switching from Harry's hand to his face.
"Not ready to leave yet, I just wanted to walk..." he stated, looking around to see that most of the remaining students were up at the castle, deep into a sort of Wizard game on the ground. They obviously hadn't been paying attention—if they had been, Harry was sure he would have heard the surprised yelling, or at the very least, experienced the gawking he had had to endure on the train.
"What do you say?" he asked, his hand still outstretched. Suddenly, he was taken back to first year when the cheeky blond went about the wrong way of trying to get Harry to be his friend. If he had done it this way, Harry would have been fine with it...
Slowly, Draco took Harry's hand, the other arm beneath him, helping to lift himself up. He was easily switched into the kneeling position and was soon standing. Giving Harry a small smile, he let go of the other's hand, crossing his arms over his chest and looked at Harry beneath a few strands of hair spilling down his forehead. The smile shifted into a smirk as he remembered what they were saying before, and said, incredulous, "Pansy? Cute? Are we talking about pug-faced Pansy, here?"
Harry chuckled, leaning down to pick up his brook and quickly murmuring the returning spell under his breath.
"Well, yeah, cute like a pug-nosed puppy... you know, scratch her head, she does tricks? And slobbers from what you say... how bad was she and what did she do to you?" Harry asked, arching his eyebrow lightly, his lips following in a half smirk.
Draco looked at the ground in thought, nodding slightly.
"I guess you could call Pansy cute, in an ugly-cute way."
He silently watched Harry's broom fly off toward the broom shed and then turned his gaze back to Harry, taking a step forward, silently saying, you said you wanted to walk... and then, after a moment's consideration, he answered Harry. He knew he would have to distance himself, or at least stop getting so close so quickly, but he could worry about that tomorrow; tonight, he was planning on being selfish—he needed someone to talk to and Harry, while cautious, generally seemed more than willing.
"She pinned me against a wall, pressed her body against mine, and trailed rather wet, sloppy kisses across my face in an attempt to get me to hold still."
He gave Harry a pointed look, "In other words, pretty bad."
Harry shook his head and smirked, turning to walk toward the Quidditch Pitch, pausing for a moment to let the light haired boy catch up with him.
"She tried to rape you!"
Draco smirked in reply, shifting his gaze to the ground in front of them as they walked, tossing a wary look to the castle every now and then.
"My first and only kiss wasn't the greatest—wet and depressing," Harry continued, nodding and wincing at the memory of kissing Cho. "I'm hoping if things go alright with Ginny, it won't be so horrible, he added, looking over at Draco out of the corner of his eye.
Draco smiled slightly at the comment about the Weasely girl, though he chose not to let Harry see, turning away to look at the castle at that precise moment. Harry had it bad. Wiping the smile off of his face, he turned back to look at Harry and said, "I'm sure you'll do fine. Who was your first?"
"My first kiss was Cho Chang. It was Christmas time and she caught me under the Mistletoe. I was scared, and she started to cry..." he paused and bit his lip.
"Over Cedric," he finished, saying the name firmly; determined not to get all mushy and sad over it in front of the other boy. He wasn't even sure that Malfoy knew all that happened—if he wanted to know, all he had to do was ask and Harry would tell. "It wasn't the greatest, and after that, Cho and I stopped talking. I mean, we're civil, just not really friends." he nodded, cocking his head to the side. "I don't even know why I liked her..." he frowned, thinking about the pretty brunette.
"Pretty enough, just to... meh. I don't know..." he started to talk about Ginny, but stopped, he was sure the other was sick of hearing about it.
Draco listened to Harry in silence, tilting his head to the side slightly, and giving Harry a side glance. He had to imagine how low of a blow that would be; to have the person you had fancied kiss you, only to find out she wasn't really interested at all, and was carrying a ton of baggage. He lifted an eyebrow at the mention of Cedric's name, but still remained silent, reliving the memory of Harry being surrounded by people, a limp body in his arms.. he looked back down at the ground, saying, "So, more or less, you were thinking with your..." he trailed off, smirking, and spared the Gryffindor another glance, continuing with, "instead of your head?"
Harry looked back up at the blond, pondering. It actually wasn't that. It wasn't that at all. He had liked her, but maybe just because she was there, and cute.
"No, it wasn't that..." he blushed. "I haven't really ever thought with... that..." he sighed. He had never really been sexually attracted to a person. It was a bit pathetic; when he masturbated it was simply to cure frustration and to relieve stress. He had never thought about a person, just wanked, thought it felt alright, and was done with it. But Ron and Seamus swore that it was much better when you thought about someone. Harry had tried to think about someone—just every time he did, he either felt bad or stupid.
Draco shook his head with feigned sadness, some hair falling into his eyes, and he looked at Harry with a look of slight disgust.
"Gods, Potter, you really are a saint, aren't you?" his look of disgust shifted into a smirk and his eyes met Harry's, "Well, we'll just have to change that, now won't we?"
Harry's eyebrows shot up.
"Saint? That's what the people call me..." he grinned, his grin fading as quickly as it came. "What do you mean, 'we'll just have to change that?'" he asked, hoping that the light haired boy had gotten the fact that he was straight and that he only thought that the other boy was attractive, which didn't mean that he was going to pounce on him. Shut up, Potter. You're thinking about this the wrong way—one would think you were in denial. And how do you know you're not gay? You've never kissed a girl properly to know for sure, Harry's mind said. He frowned.
"I mean, how do we do that?"
Draco cocked his head to the side, tucking his hair behind his ear. Temporarily forgetting about the fact that he shouldn't be doing this, he thought a bit of flirting was in order. He was enjoying the looks he was receiving from Harry entirely too much. Smirking slightly, he said, "Well, there are several ways, all of which I'd be more than happy to try with you.." his smirk grew as Harry began blushing. Silently snickering, he asked, " Where is your mind, Potter?"
Harry looked a bit bewildered at the light haired boy, opening his mouth to say just where his mind was but was interrupted by Draco.
"I was implying that you should just tell the Weasel girl how you feel about her and get it over with," said Draco, acting as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry huffed lightly, eyeing the other boy, thinking about what Draco had said.
Lifting an eyebrow at the look Harry had just given him, Draco continued to smirk. He should have tried to befriend the Gryffindor before this; this was just too fun.
Finally, Harry sighed.
"That's the thing... I don't know what my feelings are," he stated, stopping to look at the boy face to face. "I like her... it used to be brotherly, like when I went and saved her, but this year, it all changed..." he trailed off, adding at the last moment, "And she's dating Dean right now anyway."
He had forgotten about that part.
Draco returned his look, carefully asking, "How serious is she about this Dean person?"
He wasn't sure if he was the right person, really, to be giving Harry advice, but thought he'd try anyway. Things were just too weird lately to get a proper grasp on.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know, I just found out they were together the other day. She seems to like him enough. She won't even go to Hogsmead with me, but she loves to be around me when Ron and Hermione aren't around. Maybe she's afraid Ron will flip out... dunno." he stopped, looking down at his watch, the time flashing 9:23pm.
"Hell. I've got to start walking toward the castle, I have to be in Dumbledore's office at ten..." he bit his lip. "I'd ask when we could talk again, but it seems we always cross paths lately..."
He sighed.
"C'mon, walk some with me, until we're in view of the other students."
Draco nodded lightly, turning around to face the castle, and then shot Harry a look of distaste, murmuring under his breath, "Looks like you spoke to soon."
His gaze was fixed on a certain red-headed male that was walking rather quickly toward them, wand in hand. Draco was quick to fix his face in a sneer, muttering under his breath, "I guess I'll see you later, then. Alright?"
Just as Draco spoke, Ron neared them, glaring daggers at the Slytherin, and said, "Oi, Harry, Malferret bothering you?"
He stepped beside Harry, his wand clenched tightly in his fist, and Draco scowled, lifting an eyebrow at the red-head.
Harry smiled lightly at the oncoming redhead, nodding slightly at his new friend—that still felt so odd to think, but soon, it was time to act and he couldn't dwell on it.
"No, Ron. He was just leaving."
Harry turned and put on his best sneer, giving the Slytherin the once over.
"Isn't that right, Malfoy?" he jeered, then turned, walking with Ron and leaving the other boy behind. He inwardly smiled, hoping that they would be able to meet up soon. Thank the Gods Ron couldn't read minds, he'd piss himself. He sighed, letting the babbling about Malfoy slip from one ear through his head and out the other, dreading the meeting with Dumbledore. More energy draining Pensive work... joy. He shook his head, Ron's colourful words making him smirk.
Draco watched the two Gryffindor's backs in silence, unsure of what to do with himself. He stood there for a moment longer, finding himself already missing Harry's company. Gods, what is wrong with me? Placing a cold, collected look on his face, Draco headed toward the castle, shooting angry glares at a first year or two who were still loitering on the steps of the entrance way. He failed to notice an eagle owl fly over head, perching on the ledge of a tower window, hooting softly to itself at having recognized the person they were sent to deliver a letter to.
I used to know who I was
Until you came along
I return
To the only place
I've ever felt
That I belong..
- Home by Nine Inch Nails