Chapter VIII

The Truth Gets Out...?

He looks a bit surprised that I can't remember his name, when he must remember mine. It's all part of the plan: make him feel insignificant and he'll strive to impress you.

The faint bubbling of our potions fills in the silence as he watches me calmly, a tiny crease of confusion between his eyebrows.

"Draco." He repeats quietly.

"Draco Malfoy? Now I remember." I smile cheekily, "Does Snape always…let's sayhelp us out like this?"

"Oh yes, it's quite useful." He tells me thoughtfully, "I can't do potions for frog spawn…but don't tell anyone that, will you?" And he narrows his eyes just for a second, his eyes suddenly smoldering. He's confiding in me, something to bring us closer together, creating a moment just between us.

"I won't." I almost whisper, not taking my eyes off of him.

"Thanks." He smiles at me, just the corner of his mouth opening to give a cheeky peek at his dazzling teeth. A spasm of excitement shoots through me as I gawk at him.

How the hell does he do that?

"So…Mal-Draco. What was all that about with Pansy?" I ask quietly, frowning slightly and turning in so I can face him properly, so we can have a little privacy.

I see his shoulders quake, but no sound comes through his lips. It's so different from his snide laughter.

"Don't try and act innocent, Charm." He says, his heavy drawl is gone and his voice is light with a lilt to it. It throws me when he uses my surname. A playful term of endearment, or an attempt to create distance? So many crossed signals…

"You made her jealous."

"Jealous? It's only a seat." I disagree coyly. He snorts.

"It's not the seat that she's in a frenzy over." He tells me cockily, raising a light eyebrow.

"Hmmm." I say, "I see…so she likes you?"

"You could say that." He can hardly keep the amusement from his voice.

"Do you like her?" I persist, trying to make it seem like a strange idea that the two of them could ever be considered together romantically. Malfoy thinks as I wait in suspense, but don't show the agony I'm enduring, just waiting for the dusty tone of his voice.

After a few seconds I sigh and turn back to my cauldron, idly stirring it, twisting the spoon between my spindly fingers.

"I think she likes me a bit more than I like her, but yes I do. She's nice enough." He admits finally.

"Nice? I'd have thought that'd be one of the last words you'd use…" I mumble. (Although secretly content that he didn't declare his undying passion for the sour cow). I turn to look at him straight in the eyes. They're ashen beauty astounds me, and I feel insignificant, even in my new graceful form. He watches me with interest, yet again. He's the strong, silent type? Or maybe he has to loosen up a little…so many possibilities…

"Someone once told me…" He whispers silkily, "That jealousy," I freeze, "Is such a petty thing."

I feel the colour wash over me- I seem to blush so much more when I'm a girl! It's hardly beneficial. For a crazy, awful moment I'm positive he's caught me out. But he rolls his eyes and laughs through his nose.

"I quite like it." He tells me secretly, and I blush even more, warmth and relief spreading through me like some wonderful disease.

"You're quite perceptive." I compliment, raising an eyebrow and resting my head in a hand, mirroring his position. We watch each other, and he breaks into a smile, showing his perfect teeth, creasing those smoky eyes and making me weak.

Must be the hormones.

"I'd never thought I'd see you smile." Surprise tints my tone, and those words aren't scripted. My true thoughts slip out before I can stop them, "I mean properly."

"It is a sight to behold." Malfoy agrees, his eyes suddenly dark, "I try to keep myself unnoticed nowadays…"

This confuses me. His eyes slant back to his own potion as he sits up and begins to stir it, even though it doesn't really require his attention.

Should I ask him about it? He's kind of confided in me already…is this a plea for pity, or just a passing comment that he never meant to let out, the briefest glimpse of Malfoy's actual life, his memories, his secrets…I want in!

"What-?" But I'm interrupted just as I pluck up to courage as something hits me lightly on the back of my head.

Pissed, I turn around to see where it's come from.

Ronald fecking Weasley. Trying and failing to seem inconspicuous, he makes wild arm motions to the piece of screwed up parchment lying at the base of my chair.

"Weasley, desist that ridiculous dance you're doing. Five points from Gryffindor." Snape calls in a bored, emotionless voice.

Sighing, I reach down to retrieve the parchment, but before I can even touch it, a pale hand beats me to it and scoops it up. A flashback of a close Quidditch match: two hands reaching for the same prize- the snitch. Around four years ago…here I am sitting next to the git; flirting with him, desperate for his approval…it's insane.

Of course, I'm distracted by the fact that the message from Ron is for me, personally. This means that there is an extremely high possibility that it will mention the whole me being Harry Potter thing. This is bad, of course.

My heart hammers at my chest, my palms start to sweat and I grip the edge of my seat as he slowly begins to unravel what can only be the truth…

Caspre: Sorry about the length, folks! The chapter wouldn't work if I put any more content in it; it wouldn't run as smoothly. Hope you understand! To make up, the next Chapter will be super-long ;D...well just your standard longness...I don't want to bore you!

Keep reading xxx