Secrets and Surprises. Chapter Nine: Revelation
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! JK Rowling is a Goddess and I am nothing but a lowlife.
Warnings: Teenage angst to the max. Slash, eventually (Gee whiz!). I am a whore for hurt and comfort. Potentially triggering content. Not perfect match with the books (Draco is not a Death Eater in training).
Also: 1) Thank you for the reviews! It is very much appreciated. This is my first story, so it goes a long way :) Hugs and kisses for you all.
2) So sorry this update took so long! An unfortunate series of events and an incredible blow of writer's block are to blame.
Breakfast the next morning found Harry scribbling furiously at his Charms homework while Ron and Hermione looked on in interest. Harry had arrived to breakfast before either of them had—the earliest the boy had woken in weeks, and now he even seemed to be struck with a resolve to do at least some of the piles of homework he had neglected as of late.
"Did you convince him to do his homework?" Ron whispered to her as they approached the table where Harry sat.
"No…Maybe we did something right last night?" She didn't have time to pursue the thought before they sat down in front of Harry, pulling a plate of toast towards her. "Good morning, Harry!" She said cheerily, wanting to impress upon him the fact that she was happy he was doing his work.
Harry looked up from his papers and gave a quirk of a smile. "'Morning, guys. Ron, did you do this assignment? I need to check something…"
"Harry, that was from two weeks ago." Ron smiled—Harry looked more rested than he had in what seemed like forever, tiredness only a hint on the pale face instead of consuming it.
"Yeah, well, I gotta start somewhere," He shrugged, laughing at himself. Checking his watch, he seemed to make a decision. "Right. I've got a half hour before classes start, I'm going to run down to library really quick. See you guys later!" A wave and a flick of the black robe hem, and then he was gone.
"…Hermione."
"Yes, Ron?" She asked, spreading jam on a second piece of toast.
"He laughed."
Hermione nodded, small smile playing on her lips. "Makes me wonder what actually happened on that little walk of his last night."
Harry sighed gratefully, sliding into a seat at the table surrounded by books. It was quieter here. All things considered, he felt okay today. Almost good, even. It's a bloody miracle…He mused as he scratched out words on his paper, not really needing to think about his work He had rolled out of bed that morning without the intense need to hide himself under his covers once more, hide from the horrors of the day yet to come. And now, for a change, he seemed in unusually high spirits. How's that work…?
His mind returned to last night's events. Specifically to one, Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin had surprised him, that was for certain, first with his ability to fight and later with his strange kindness. The bandage that the blonde had put in place was still wrapped snugly around his arm, serving as a reminder that maybe the kid wasn't all bad, and that Harry didn't carry his secrets alone. Also, he wondered what things would be like between the two of them now.
Sighing, not noticing the smile spread on his face, Harry finished off his assignment and headed to class.
Draco had watched Harry over breakfast, noting the way the raven-haired Gryffindor moved with more ease, the way he casually spoke to his friends. He smiled to himself before he knew what he was doing, and then, in an effort to avoid strange looks from Crabbe and Goyle, hid it behind his napkin, pretending to wipe his face. So this is what doing something nice feels like…He almost laughed at himself, surprised that something so simple made him feel actually good. Funny, he thought, I always assumed it would be a pain in the ass. Indeed, to a Slytherin, going out of one's way for someone else was not a rewarding idea at all. Chuckling darkly, he realized that most Slytherins, including his father, had told him that without ever actually trying it.
It would be interesting, he mused, to see if their relationship changed at all. Maybe they'd continue going on being nasty to each other? No, that didn't seem right. Draco smirked to himself, standing and heading down the corridors to his Potions class, trying to make a decision. Maybe he'd refrain from outwardly harassing the Boy Who He'd Underestimated, but he also wouldn't try to be buds. Yeah, that sounds more reasonable. Kept his distance while staying cool. He frowned, sliding into his seat. Keeping his distance—why was that such a priority? He thought of those green eyes once more and felt a small flutter in his stomach. Ah, he shook his head quickly, pushing the feeling away. That's why.
The first half of Harry's day was a blur—he found himself concentrating in all of his classes and surprising his teachers with his sudden resolve to catch up. He worked through lunch even, hiding in the library, doing his transfiguration. Of all his classes, he had felt the worst about that one. With a start, he remembered his detention that night and groaned, scratching out a misspelled word and rewriting it before lurching out of his seat and trotting to Potions.
They saw each other in the hall after lunch. Harry saw the platinum blonde head making it's way through the hordes of students and frowned a little at himself when his stomach seemed to turn over as soon as Draco's face came into view. That could get very annoying…he thought, and brushed it off as a need to thank the other once more. All he had to do was get Draco's attention.
Draco was (thankfully, he realized later) walking alone, oblivious to the tall, black-haired boy's efforts to meet his eye. That is, until he did. Suddenly Draco found himself lost again in those emerald greens—so full of depth that it was startling. He might have gasped out loud, and didn't even realize he had stopped walking. Harry was mouthing something—it was a silent "Thank you." He smiled outright before he had a chance to stop himself, and then realizing that a desperate first-year, arms full of books, was trying to push around him, he tore his eyes from The Boy He Wanted To Spend More Time With, and practically ran off.
He smiled. Harry blinked and tried to shake the joy he felt at this realization. Has he ever done that before? He shook his head and hurried down the flights of stairs to the dungeons, knowing it would be his head if he ever ended up late to Snape's class. Something about that freely given smile upset him. Not in a bad way, he just didn't know what it the difference was. The thought plagued him halfway through the period before he figured it out, the revelation causing him to drop the large metal spoon he'd been holding on the floor, drawing dirty glares from other students and an especially pointed death-stare from the Professor.
He's handsome when he smiles.