I'm SO SORRY! I'm a slow updater…hopefully that will change after school lets out… so to those of you that like my story, I'm sorry. But the real world seems to want way too much from me.
And while i'm at it, if anyone has a good site for fanfiction challenges i would GREATLY appreciate it if you would give it to me in a review or email because i cant find any good ones and I really enjoy them. Thanks.
Yes the title of the chapter is from Avenue Q. No you are not having Deja Vu. Deal with it.
Chapter 4: Fantasies Come True
Malfoy awoke with a sharp pain in his neck and a dull, throbbing headache. He groaned and sat up, taking in his surroundings, which happened to be the library, he mused. Library? Mused? Draco stood up quickly, scattering papers across the table.
The library? He didn't remember falling asleep in the library. He didn't really remember much about yesterday at all. He looked over to see a student, the librarian's aid, glaring at him as if he were drinking alcohol or getting high on school grounds. Draco sighed, gathered his materials, and made his way out of the silent and cold library.
It was dark in the halls. The only light was the full moon streaming in through the windows and casting eerie shadows across the walls. It was 10 o'clock p.m., he noticed, from a clock on the wall that he passed. Draco had no idea what had happened, or how long he had been sleeping. All he knew was that he wasn't tired, and had no intention of going to bed.
His thoughts drifted from subject to subject as he walked through the hallways to the Great Hall. Malfoy opened the great, steady doors and wondered why no one was stopping him, no teacher or magic spell.
Draco welcomed the rush of cold air that blew his soft blonde hair about his face. The grounds were empty, as far as he could tell. Which was not very far seeing as that it was nighttime.
"Lumos," Draco told his wand. It lit up and he could see a figure off in the distance, sitting under a tree. Lucky Draco had never heard the phrase, 'curiosity killed the cat' because if he had, maybe he wouldn't have wandered over to the tree; but he did. As he approached slowly, he became aware that the figure was a student, Malfoy could see his robes. It was a Gryffindor. It was...no, it couldn't be... "Harry Potter," The Slytherin said, astonished that this was the student he had come across.
Harry was sitting with his back propped against the huge tree, a spell book on his lap, and a tired look on his face. Harry looked up at Draco, and seemed equally astonished. "M-Malfoy," he sputtered, looking uncomfortable. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I should be asking you that question," Draco answered. He sighed, and sat down next to Harry, leaning his back against the tree, and welcoming the cold ground. His body shivered, being so close. The Slytherin closed his eyes. After what seemed like hours of silence, he opened one eye to look at Harry. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or was that a tint of red on the boy's cheeks?
Harry was nervous? Embarrassed? No, it couldn't be. It wasn't possible that Harry loved him back. Who would, anyway? Wait, Love? Who ever said anything about love? Malfoy shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts out and sighed.
Harry turned his head quickly at the noise and their eyes met. The Slytherin's breath caught in his throat. He watched the other boy lick his lips nervously and it took all of his strength to stop himself from reaching out, touching the soft skin with his hand.
Malfoy's stomach did flip-flops. He was so close to Harry, if he leaned just a little their lips would meet. Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned in, closing his eyes. Their lips were about to meet...
The Gryffindor's eyes widened and before he could realize, his hand came out and struck Malfoy across the face. He immediately launched himself backwards, terrified of what he had done. So close, he had been so close to finally getting what he wanted. A part of him knew it was wrong. That part had slapped Draco.
Malfoy did not look up. His head was still leaned to the side, cheek burning painfully. What had he almost done? He'd almost kissed Harry. It was all over now. The Gryffindor must have been disgusted by him. How could he have acted so rashly? "Shit," he sighed, unaware he had voiced it out loud.
"Shit," Harry repeated, looking at Draco. He could not help smiling a little. He wondered if Draco felt at least some attraction to him. The Slytherin looked up at Harry, finally, and a shy smile tugged at his lips as well.
"I'm sorry, I-" Draco began.
"Its fine," Harry interrupted.
"I didn't mean-"
"Forget it."
"Right."
They sat in awkward silence for a long time. They both could not forget it. Harry looked down at his love's hand and longed to grasp it with his own. He, again, restrained himself as he had learned to do so many times before. He was used to denying his feelings, something one must learn to do when one falls in love with a person they cannot have.
Harry sighed, and Malfoy could feel the angst dripping off of him. It sent a shiver down his spine. Both boys looked up at the same time, locking eyes. They stared at each other for quite some time before they realized it was weird and both turned away.
Malfoy plucked out some grass absentmindedly. His face was getting hot and it was hard to breath. If he didn't leave, he would probably end up doing something stupid. He stood up suddenly, facing Harry. "I'm leaving. 'Night."
"Okay, see you later. I'm going to stay out here for a while." Harry answered. Draco turned around and headed towards the castle, but not without looking back once. He turned his body around but kept walking, so he was backwards. He smiled, then seemed to regret the decision, and turned back to face the castle, nearly missing a tree.
Harry giggled (yes giggled) and shuddered with delight. Maybe there was a chance after all.
The next few weeks were painful for Harry. He was in agony mostly for three reasons. The first reason being that he had a difficult potions final coming up. The second and third reasons tied in together. Hermione had informed Harry on what Malfoy said during their little truthful discussion, and it was amazingly and agonizingly awkward whenever he saw Malfoy.
For example, one afternoon he was walking with Hermione and Ron to herbology when they suddenly passed the Slytherin in the halls. Harry stared, googley eyed, at Malfoy, who was drinking from a cup of pumpkin juice, and the Gryffindor ended up walking straight into a large laundry tub. Hermione was embarrassed for him, Ron laughed hysterically, and Malfoy spit his pumpkin juice all over his robes. The Slytherin then excused himself quickly, and could not stop a fit of giggles once he reached the bathroom.
Malfoy was having worries similar to Harry. He couldn't bare the tension between them. It was more than he could take. He had to talk to Harry and confront him about his feelings. That's what he had to do, but it was so much more complicated than it sounded.
Draco was sitting in his common room, folded comfortably into a big armchair. He scooted over to the edge, noticing that both his thin frame and Harry's could probably fit. They'd be so close. So close.
He sighed, and could almost picture the arms across his shoulders, hips touching, heads close, breath across his neck, making his hairs stand up and his spine tingle.
"Hey, don't get too close!" A young Slytherin girl shouted, pushing a boy away from her. This comment made Draco jump, and pull out of his fantasy. His face felt hot and his breath was short, as it had been under the tree. Just as he stood up, he knew where he was going.
Barely aware, he got his flying broom from the side of his Slytherin bed, and opened his window. Malfoy stood on the window ledge as icy rain hit his face and melted, dripping down his face like newly shed tears. It was refreshing to him, but the darkness wasn't.
Finally, he swallowed all fear, and jumped into blackness, expertly lowering his broom and taking flight in a matter of seconds. He wiped water from his face with the back of his sleeve and by that time he was already where he wanted to be.
Draco Malfoy slowed his broom and hovered in the air just outside of a window. He wiped the window off with his sleeve and looked in to make sure no one was awake, and then slowly eased the window open, glad it was unlocked. As silent as he could be, Draco propped his broom against the wall. He took off his soaking wet robe and hung it up against the broom. The clothes underneath his robe were damp, also, but that could not be helped.
The boy padded over to the bedside of Harry Potter, and was amazed by the sight of his love sleeping contently, blankets tangled up in his legs and a pillow firmly in his grip, held against his chest. He pulled up a nearby chair and watched Harry sleep for about a quarter of an hour, during which he debated whether or not to touch the other boy. He couldn't resist himself. His quivering and shaking hand met Harry's brow. He pushed a stray strand of hair away from the Gryffindor's eyes, and let a finger trail down his face to the curve of his jawbone.
Harry moved, repositioning the pillow while he was still sleeping. He moaned, leaning into the touch. Malfoy jumped back and almost fell out of his chair. Soon, though, he regained his composure. The Slytherin felt a sudden wave of fatigue, and he dared himself to touch the other's hand. There was no reaction. He clasped the hand with both of his own and leaned down, resting his head on the three hands.
The feel of his love's hand against his face was sensational. He could have been there for forever, just sleeping next to Harry. It seemed as though his troubles evaporated with every breath Harry took, every time his chest moved up and down. The rain pitter-pattering against the window was calming, enticing him to fall asleep.
"Draco..." Harry whispered, and Malfoy's head shot up as he drew away from the bed. He looked into Harry's eyes, which were still closed. Harry had said Draco's name in his sleep? Could he feel Draco's presence, in the back of his mind?
He had no more time to contemplate that line of thought, because Harry was actually waking up. He sat up and pushed the pillow away, running a hand through his hair. The Gryffindor stared at the Slytherin for a moment before it registered that Malfoy was in his room. He stood up and said, "What the hell are you doing in my fucking dormitory?"
Draco's heart was beating a million times a minute. It was all over. Harry would hate him, think he was a creepy stalker, and never want to see him again. "Well?" Harry said, sounding less confident and more nervous.
"I, well, I, um..." Draco searched his mind for something, something to say or latch onto. He found nothing. Then, "I need to talk to you."
"Well, it's a fucking bad time, but there's actually something I need to talk to you about too." Harry looked back at the other beds. No one was awake, but they would be if the conversation was continued much longer. "We need somewhere to talk..." Harry thought a moment, then took Malfoy by the hand (which he did not mind) and led him down the hall to the bathroom. It was actually quite large. Harry closed the door gently and locked it. "Look, we won't be disturbed while we're in here together."
Malfoy was a teenager, so of course he took that comment the wrong way. He coughed, and raised one eyebrow (which is an incredibly awesome thing to do). Harry, realizing what he had implied, turned an interesting shade of red and turned away from the other boy for a moment. "You know what I mean," he reasoned.
"Um...yeah..." Was all Draco could say. He was so overcome by how cute Harry was when he was flustered that his mind was having trouble breaking down a single coherent thought.
"What is it you want to talk to me about?" Harry asked, leaning against the sink. Draco, on the opposite side of the bathroom, sat down on the cold tile, his back to the door.
"Can you go first?" Malfoy answered. He looked up hopefully at Harry.
TO BE CONTINUED...next chapter...
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