The Many Phases of Love
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Backtracking
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Potter, Draco thought, must have stolen someone else's power and incorporated it with his own. It was the only conclusion Draco could come to, even if it was an illogical one. For Potter to have done that, he would have needed to learn a few of the vilest spells or artifacts in existence, something which was not easy to come by. Potter would need contacts, the sort of people that Lucius Malfoy has in his limitless address book. Or used to have, Draco amended with a complex twist of his lips, since no one saw the Malfoy name as respectable any longer – both in the Light and Dark sides of the wizarding world. That left Draco in a tricky situation.
The blond scowled and locked those thoughts in the back of his head. This was neither the time nor place to contemplate such things since they were better left during the dead of the night.
"What's made you look like that?" Pansy inquired in interest, snatching Draco away from his darkening musings. She was seated beside him in the Great Hall, where the students were having a noisy lunch. "Have the house elves cooked your chicken wrong again?"
The other Slytherins snickered behind their hands and Draco's scowl worsened. It was a known fact of their House that Draco had once fiercely berated a house elf for using too much spices in his favorite chicken dish, making the creature burst into tears and soaking Draco's botched meal in the process. The next time the same meal had been served, Draco's had been so devoid of flavor that he could not finish it. It had become a topic for amusement for the other Slytherins which Draco resented. He did not like to be made fun of, especially for having the right sense of taste.
Draco glared imperiously at the dark-haired girl eating calmly next to him. "As you can see, Parkinson, I am not even having chicken."
Pansy waved away his words, smiling sweetly. "Little details, Draco."
"Oh, sod off," Draco muttered, his mood souring as his gaze swung back to Potter across the Hall, ignoring the rest of his Housemates. He had not been looking at the Gryffindor for approximately two months, finding that he couldn't muster the interest or energy to do so anymore. But here was Draco again, eyes unfailing to locate its previous prey like he'd done for the past six years or so. It was frustrating to realize that he was falling into old habits so easily, after Potter's mishap three days ago. Since then, Draco had done nothing but observe his former rival (or maybe his renewed rival?) but in a new, subtler way. He still didn't say anything to the Gryffindor or his friends, maintaining his cool distance while the rest of his Housemates poked fun at Potter. It earned him more than a few disconcerted glances from the Boy Who Lived himself, while Weasley did his best to enrage a response from Draco.
But not only that, Pansy was watching him too. Not Potter, but Draco. She gave him sly looks whenever his eyes were trained on Potter but Pansy made sure that Draco knew it. It was unlike Pansy to hold off interrogating Draco on his behavior but this time she kept her comments to herself. Draco knew that it wouldn't take long for Pansy to finally come around and confront him about it.
The past week after the Potions' accident, Draco had come to the assumption that Potter had not spoiled the potion at all but somehow his spellwork had come off stronger than usual, thus causing the blast. He came to this after he'd covertly watched as Potter performed basic and complicated spells in secret – most often in one of the deserted alcoves in the gardens or an empty classroom – and saw the difference in power in his casting. Potter hadn't been so powerful last month, had he?
But obviously something had happened because Potter had frozen half of the extra Charms classroom with a simple cooling spell. Now that Draco was aware of the sudden surge in power, it wasn't hard to miss it in their shared classes anymore. The signs were there and the fact that Potter knew about it was more than surprising, although that talk he'd had with Dumbledore must have been about it after all. It was in the thoughtful, almost clinical look in the other boy's eyes whenever he did magic. It was like he was experimenting with just how much power he could use these days.
It made Draco just a little envious. Potter had been an average wizard until he started displaying incredible amounts of power in various degrees. The git didn't deserve to have a magical boost or whatever it was called. Every other wizard had to be content with what he was born with.
It intrigued Draco, though, and he wanted answers. It was his curious nature that would someday do him in, as Blaise had warned him in an uncharacteristic display of maturity last year.
Draco suspected one other person knew the answer: Snape. His Head of House had been looking at Potter with more than just disgust these days but also with well-disguised awareness. It was like Snape was also dissecting Potter but he did it under the guide of accurate information he must have gotten from Dumbledore.
Obviously, Snape favored Draco amongst the rest of the Slytherins because he was intelligent, sharp and cunning. Maybe there was a little smear of bias in it but Draco deserved Snape's esteem. Draco realized that if he asked then Snape would tell him what he would be able to. Even if Dumbledore had asked the older man to keep it a secret, Snape would find a way to convey the message to Draco and give him enough of a hint if Snape thought that his student had a right to know.
And this was Potter. Potter was Draco's territory, more so than Snape's, even during that brief moment when Draco hadn't cared for Potter.
Just this last time, Draco vowed. When I've got my answers, Harry Potter will no longer hold my interest ever again. Tonight, I will ask Snape.
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Severus Snape's quarters were located adjacent to his classroom, through an expertly concealed door to the front right corner of the room. Any Slytherin was welcome to visit him, although with a healthy amount of hesitation, and even Draco paused for a moment outside that extremely private room. He'd only been in Snape's living area for a handful of times, the last time when he'd been told that his father had been sent to Azkaban.
Never one to hesitate for too long, or pursue an action too eagerly, Draco knocked sharply three times against the thick wood. It took only a brief moment before the door was opened and the torchlight from the inside reflected on Snape, turning him into a sinister sight against the contrast of shadows and light.
"Is there something you need, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked formally, arching an eyebrow as he stared down at his student. He and Malfoy shared the same height – because Draco was tall for his age and Snape short for his
Draco nodded slightly. "There's…something I'd like to discuss with you privately, sir."
Snape looked at him for a long moment before he turned around without closing the door. It was all the invitation Draco needed as he followed after his professor, shutting the door quietly after him.
He was in a spacious sitting room, with a couch and an armchair placed near the fireplace. There were three bookshelves pushed against the far wall, with a nifty spell cast on it so that it could hold more books than it appeared to. The majority of the tomes were Potions books, ones which Draco had borrowed in the past, while a small percentage were devoted to philosophy, history and encyclopedias. Snape was not a man of fiction. A sudden thought about finding one of Pansy's trashy romance novels in Snape's shelves had Draco casting a much closer look on the bookcases just to make sure they weren't actually there.
The idea of Snape reading something so…so frivolous and…vivid made Draco look rather green in the face.
"Draco, sit down," Snape commanded in a more familiar tone as he settled himself down on his favorite armchair, a soft velvet green with snake-carved arms and legs. It was a Slytherin's seat. Once Draco made himself comfortable on the couch, ankles crossed, Snape went right down to business. "Now, what is this visit about? Pray tell it isn't about Potter."
Perhaps Snape knew his students too well but Draco refused to be embarrassed. He kept his defiance at a minimal as he stared back. "As a matter of fact, Professor, it is. I've noticed a few things about him that's been bothering me and I don't think it's presumptuous at all to say that you know about it. You are under Dumbledore's favor."
Snape observed Draco closely. "You're cheeky, Draco. There are times when it doesn't work. Yes, you are right that I know what's happening to Potter." Here, Snape sneered in blatant disdain for the Gryffindor. "That is the only thing I can tell you. The rest, I have been sworn to secrecy."
"It's not much of a secret if I know Potter has gotten stronger, is it?" Draco asked as respectfully as he could but still tilting one eyebrow upwards in impertinence. "One just has to observe him to know. And…" Draco hesitated, unsure if he was willing to say the words out loud. He glanced at Snape and saw the older wizard's impassive expression and knew that he would be safe. "And I want to forget Potter, sir. It's very hard to do that if I have to keep digging into his life for answers. If I had my answers then it would be easy to leave him behind."
Dark, fathomless eyes studied Draco for a long while. It was rare for a Slytherin to be so honest with their feelings because more often than not, Slytherins were known to lie and cheat to protect their self-interests. Then again, manipulation was a key factor in the Snake House. If that manipulation used the truth as its tool…
The silence tugged at Draco's nerves. He didn't like the way Snape pinned him with his black eyes. Frankly speaking, it was creepy as bloody hell. The only sounds came from the crackling of the fire. The room was dark and ominous, shadows dancing on the stone walls with firelight. Draco longed to fidget although he'd been trained at a young age never to do such a telling act.
Finally, Snape spoke. "Your obsession with Potter has always been one of your biggest flaws, Draco. His presence has always triggered something…impulsive and careless within you until you lose your proud, haughty Malfoy exterior. Potter reduces you to uncouth screaming matches and dirty tricks, even for a Slytherin." Snape's softly said words were honest but harsh and Draco couldn't help but feel defensive at his perception of this sudden, unfair attack. He knew he pretty much acted like an idiot whenever Potter was around but still.
"I'm afraid the answers will only captivate you further, Draco, because I know your cultivated perceptions of that brat," said Snape as he waved his hand impatiently. The firelight reflected against his oily hair and sallow skin. "I also know that you will not stop until your questions are exhausted. To confirm your words, yes, Potter has grown more powerful than most of us imagine a Gryffindor can become, and it has something to do with his unpleasant Muggle upbringing. That is all that I can share with you."
But judging by Draco's expression, it seemed enough. There was a mixture of surprise and alertness on his face, plus an alarming thoughtfulness that was softened by the glow of the torches. Snape watched Draco quietly, a frown tugging on his lips, as if he knew and was unpleasantly resigned about Draco.
"I'd never realized it before…" Draco muttered thoughtfully, one hand drawing lazy circles on the space next to him. "The Slytherins have always propagated that Potter came from a doting family. Did we start that rumor?"
"It began when Potter was just a boy. The wizarding world wanted to believe that their precious savior was raised in a loving environment," Snape said with obvious scorn and a tiny sneer.
Some things were starting to make sense. Draco had always blamed Potter's lack of decent fashion sense as to why the other boy usually wore threadbare clothes and cheap glasses. When Potter had been eleven, he had been unusually small and scrawny, which then Draco had attributed to horrid genes, but it must have been the result of maltreatment. Potter's obvious aversion to talking about his relatives finally made sense; after all, if Potter came from a devoted family, then he wouldn't have kept so quiet about it.
But then how would that new tidbit of information help him realize why Potter had suddenly become so powerful?
The mystery excited Draco, since he'd always loved to piece things together and solve puzzles. It was one of the reasons why Potions was his favorite class.
"Draco, I cannot convince you to leave this matter about Potter alone, can I?" Snape asked sardonically, breaking Draco away from his thoughts. "It is written clearly all over your face. It's disappointing since you've been doing so well ignoring Potter's existence these past few weeks but Potter has always, one way or another, monopolized your attention since you met the miserable boy. But I ask you to have caution, Draco, and be discreet in your questioning. There're many eyes watching out for him and they may not take kindly to a Malfoy snooping around where he doesn't belong."
The warning didn't mean anything to Draco but he nodded respectfully nonetheless. Being careful was something the Malfoys were so good at doing, second only to protecting their self-interests. It was in their eagerness to do things so they may have something to gain in return that landed them in trouble.
"Thank you, Professor," said Draco politely, giving a small bow to show his respect. He did admire Snape because the man had a brilliant mind and a rare skill in Potions. But he could use a few Cheering charms, Draco thought as he was ushered outside his Head of House's quarters and back to his common room, thinking of the older man's perpetually dark face. Or a love life.
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Brown eyes were staring bluntly at Draco but he tried ignoring Pansy for the time being. He was bent over his half-finished Transfiguration essay, which was to be submitted tomorrow. He, Pansy and Blaise were in the library, in a table tucked away in the corner where they could avoid any hostile interruptions, like Madam Pince. Blaise sat next to Pansy and both of them were across from Draco but while the former was also busy writing on his parchment, Pansy was looking at Draco with intent.
Draco let the gaze wash down his back like water. He's had so many people looking at him in different ways that it didn't have much of an effect on him anymore. Not even Pansy's constant staring could faze him. The irritation only came when she opened her mouth. Draco was glad, then, that they were in the library.
But of course, the silence didn't last very long. Pansy was determined to pry from Draco what he and Snape had talked about four nights ago, and what Draco has brooded over since then. She had given him enough space to gather his thoughts, wanting to know the whole story in analyzed detail. Draco knew that he would eventually give in to her but he didn't want to share anything yet because he still had no answers, only conclusions without explanations.
Pansy was idling tapping the top of her feathery quill against the table, making a constant tap-tap-tap that seemed loud in the near absolute silence of the library. She cradled her chin on her palm, gazing at Draco shrewdly with half-closed eyes.
"Draco," Pansy finally spoke, her tone low and serious. The blond ignored her. "Draco," Pansy called again but Draco merely kept his head bowed over his essay, studiously scribbling the words that flowed easily from his hands.
Pansy gave an exasperated little sigh – she had never been that patient – and promptly smacked the other boy on the head with her quill. Draco jerked upright, narrowing his eyes at the girl in the patented Malfoy glare that reduced grown men into stuttering fools. Pansy, who had been taught by his father never to be intimidated by the Malfoy glare since it was high plausible that she would be marrying into the family, merely looked smug that finally Draco was paying her attention.
She pointed a well-manicured finger at Draco. "You have been staring at Potter for the past two weeks after telling me that you no longer had any sort of interest for him. I did not tell our Housemates why you've been so inactive against Potter lately mostly because you're returned to your old habit. You said that Potter was nothing more than an ordinary, dim-witted boy – obviously something's changed and I'm smart enough to know that it has something to do with that Potions' accident and your chat with Snape." Pansy managed to flip her short black hair haughtily, undaunted by the irritated look in Draco's eyes. She knew well enough how to read Draco Malfoy and when to draw the line with her prying.
Draco smirked at her, twirling his own quill deftly between his fingers and stared in challenge at Pansy. "You're right in all of that, darling Pansy, but what makes you think I'm going to tell you. I may share some things with you but don't forget who actually pulls the strings around here."
"Cut the superior act, Draco," Pansy said bluntly with a roll of her eyes. "I know for a fact that you're not genuinely pissed off because you haven't got that deadly look in your eye. You're merely annoyed at my persistence but we both know you're going to tell me sooner or later. So let's get past the bickering this time and head straight to the part where you tell me."
Draco opened his mouth to rebuke that no, he was definitely not acting superior because he was better than everyone else, when Blaise gave a disgusted snort and threw his quill on the table. The other boy lifted his head and treated his two companions with an impressive glower of his own.
"I cannot stand your push-and-pull way of communication anymore," Blaise said with a frustrated shake of his head. "In fact, all of Slytherin has had it with you two for years. Why can't you just talk like normal people for once. Honestly!" He turned to Pansy and said, "Draco's been observing Potter like a hawk because Potter's grown more powerful without any reason and he's most likely been given surprising information by Snape that corrected a heretofore mistaken assumption about the Golden Boy's life or some other such nonsense. Now can I please get back to my essay because I have a date in an hour?"
Draco and Pansy stared at Blaise in varying degrees of surprise.
"How did you know all that?" Draco demanded hotly, turning the full effects of his glare on the other boy. "Have you been following me?"
"Trust me Draco, blond and high-maintenance are definitely not on my list," Blaise retorted sarcastically, picking up his quill and pulling his Transfiguration book closer to him.
"What's wrong with that? And I am not high-maintenance, thank you very much!" Draco said indignantly before he shook his head and went back to his original point. "Again, how did you know all that? If you don't give me a clear answer then I will hex your bollocks so you wouldn't even want to go on your date."
Something gleamed in Draco's eyes and Blaise wisely took notice of it. "Very well, I shall share with you how I knew all of that." He gave a lengthy pause until Pansy hit him on the side of the head. "Hey ow! All right, Merlin. I just figured it out, okay? It wasn't hard to do given the fact that I've actually noticed Potter's grown stronger. My table was next to his during that Potions' class, remember? When he cast the charm to light the cauldron, I actually felt the force of his power flare at such a simple spell. I didn't even have to concentrate, it was that strong. Then I started observing him – and watching as Draco observed him - and my suspicions were confirmed: Potter has gotten powerful, which doesn't normally happen. As for the last part about Snape, I took a completely wild guess."
Draco partly believed Blaise since the other boy was particularly sensitive to the nuances of magic. He could detect someone casting a spell or feel an ongoing curse in the environment. It was a trait common in the Zabini family. The catch, though, was that the person had to be aware that a spell was happening to be able to perceive it. But to actually feel the magical vibrations when he was not attuned? Potter was more powerful than even Draco had anticipated.
"Taking a wild guess doesn't seem believable," Pansy pointed out a moment later with a lift of her eyebrows. "Especially from you, Blaise. You must have known in some other way."
Blaise shrugged and looked away. "It was a lucky speculation, that's all."
"I think not but we'll let it go for now," said Draco and he rolled up his parchment. He couldn't finish it now since they were going to talk about Potter. "Have you been following him around?"
"You mean like you do?" Blaise snorted, his dark blue eyes looking at Draco in amusement. "Yes I have but only that one time. In fact, I stood not far behind where you were crouched behind a hedge – not very suave, Draco – as Potter practiced his spells in a deserted alcove in the garden."
Draco's eyes narrowed a little. That had happened two days ago, on a Hogsmeade weekend, when everyone else had gone to the village. Or so Draco thought. He'd know Potter had deliberately stayed behind and Draco had followed after him. But hadn't Blaise went with Pansy and the others that day?
There was a knowing glint in Pansy's eyes. "So that's why you went back ahead of us, Blaise, you sneaky bastard."
Blaise tapped his fingers on the cover of his book. "No, I simply returned because I couldn't stand Theo mooning over you for one more bit. Besides, I still had leftover sweets from the last Hogsmeade visit. Really Pansy, you shouldn't try so hard to give Theo the cold shoulder when I know you fancy him back."
Pansy blushed, which she never did, and her voice was cold and clipped when she spoke. "I have no idea whatsoever about what you're prattling, Zabini."
The dark-skinned Slytherin snorted in disbelief. "Call me a Hufflepuff but who has Theo's name written all over her History of Magic scrolls surrounded by hearts?"
Annoyance was quickly weighing down on Draco as his two friends bickered. It was vaguely reminiscent of Weasley and Granger, which Draco shuddered at, but luckily Pansy and Blaise were respectful Slytherins and didn't hesitate to hex each other if the other got too annoying. Usually Draco would egg both of them on but now today.
"Stop it the both of you," Draco snapped in his most commanding tone, the one that his father often used when ordering around the house elves. "Or we will be kicked out of the library. We shall discuss Pansy's romantic entangles in another time, preferably with Theo around to make her squirm. I've had enough of Pansy making me uncomfortable about certain topics and this would be a nice way to teach her a lesson." He smiled grimly at Pansy, who glared at him. "And Blaise, you were saying?"
"Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was heading back to the castle when I felt that familiar sensation of magic – Potter's magic. It had a surprisingly strong reach since I was not that near to the gardens. I followed it and saw you, Draco, behind the bush while spying on Potter. I was baffled when you didn't realize I was there. You've always had sharp instincts, a Gryffindor trait but one that does come in handy once in a while, but I figured you were too engrossed with Potter at that moment."
There was a moment's silence as Blaise and Draco watched each other. Pansy impatiently rapped the wooden desk, causing the other students to shush at her which she promptly ignored. "Then? What was Potter doing?"
It was Draco who answered. "He was performing five charms. All at once." 1
"Five?" Pansy demanded, clearly startled. "But a wizard can only perform three charms the most simultaneously and even then it's difficult."
"We know that," said Blaise with a roll of his eyes. "Which is why we were stunned to see Potter doing such a thing. I'm pretty sure Dumbledore can do it because even for a complete nutter there's no denying he's powerful. But Potter?"
Draco made a thoughtful noise. "How come you didn't say anything about feeling Potter's magic before?"
"I thought you already knew," Blaise shrugged.
"So this is what you've been puzzling over, Draco?" Pansy asked with a shake of her head. "The thing you and Snape spoke about?"
"Partly," Draco said cryptically and spoke before Pansy could say anything else. "But I will not tell you the rest of it. Maybe when I've completely figured it out. For now, it would be very much appreciated if you would not keep on tracking my movements when it came to Potter or ask me anything regarding him. It's bloody distracting to the point where I can't concentrate and I know you're partly doing it just to aggravate me." This time, Draco's lips stretched to a sweetly cunning smile. "Or else Theo will miraculously receive a History of Magic scroll with the words 'Mrs. Pansy Nott' scribbled on it. Yes, my dear, I saw that other parchment."
Pansy's eyes flashed and she bared her lips in a snarl. She hated having her own game turned on her. Blaise stifled a chuckle at her disgruntled expression, thinking that Slytherins had a very dysfunctional relationship with each other.
"Fucker," was all Pansy said.
"That would be Blaise," the blond drawled out serenely as he picked up his quill and went back to his essay. The sooner he could finish this monstrous assignment the better. Then he could devote his time to puzzling out Harry Potter.
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1. This bit here was obviously inspired by Aidan Lynch's beautiful story, 'Unthinkable Thoughts.' I give him credit for this idea and I'm only borrowing it.
FINALLY! I updated. It took me a few weeks too, didn't it? My relationship resolved its problems, thank god, but I've been busy with schoolwork. I hope this update will satisfy you. Also, I was a bit disappointed at the amount of reviews for the last chapter when the hits for it actually doubled. And after I had such a tough time with it too but ah, what can I do? I'm still grateful you read and like this thing and my gratitude goes especially to those who take their time and review. Thanks to all!
Hopefully the next chapter will come sooner. Next we will have Harry's summer and maybe we can move things along though there's a part of me that wants to be as thorough as possible even if it means having a long story. Hey, it is a chronicle of Harry and Draco's life through their Hogwarts years, the war and beyond.