Ch. 6 up! This one's a bit longer than the last. Call it a Christmas bonus :)
Draco ponders his current situation and discovers that he is caught between a rock and a hard place (more like a hard bodied boy with too much time on his hands.)
-
The rest of the day passed uneventfully, something unusual for a school of witchcraft and wizardry. Madame Pomfrey remained in the infirmary for the rest of the day, scribbling on paperwork and mixing tonics for several of the older teachers. When she wasn't working or reading she was tending to Draco and Harry.
Well, mostly Harry.
She would take his temperature every few hours, refluff his pillows, fetch him more blankets if he needed, and dote on him like a mother hen with a chick. Then, as if that weren't enough, near the end of the day presents of candies and chocolate and hand written notes started to appear at the end of Harry's bed. Many Gryffindor students and a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws began to filter up the changing stairs to wish Harry well.
Ron and Hermione stopped by as well. While she lectured Harry to be more careful and discussed what homework he'd missed, Ron remained uncharacteristically quiet. He stood back and watched, every so often flicking apprehensive looks in Draco's direction. Draco however, was trying his best to pretend to sleep.
The truth, though, was that he hadn't slept a wink. All he had gotten the whole day was an ice pack from Madame Pomfrey to reduce the swelling of his bruises and a packet of homework and notes from Snape. Then, to top it all off, not a single person visited. Not even Blaise or Crabbe or Goyle.
The whole day, all Draco had to occupy himself with was listening in disgust, hating each moment that passed more than the last. There were times when he had to grip the bed tightly to keep from screaming at all of the visitors; the innocent, naïve visitors who came to see Potter and say such nice things about him. They were completely unaware. They didn't know the truth that Draco did. He wanted so badly to tell them all. He wanted to show them how dastardly and despicable Potter really was.
Draco was smarter than that though. He couldn't just blurt it out at random. Everyone knew of the rivalry between the two boys. They already assumed that Draco had always felt Harry to be less than pleasant. But now that Draco had witnessed Potter's true colors with his own eyes, he couldn't stand to stay quiet.
As the hours passed, however, Draco became less sure of himself. The fact that no one had come to see him seemed to cement the worry that had been in the back of Draco's head all day:
'No one's going to believe me.'
And why should they? Draco had raved about and cursed Potter's existence ever since they first met. Practically everyday at Hogwarts, Draco's schedule consisted of breakfast, classes, lunch with the Slytherins and make fun of Potter who sat just a few tables away, classes, lounge in the common room and rant about Potter, shower, babble about Potter some more, and then dream about torturing him with the business end of his wand. Then morning would come and the cycle would begin anew.
Every week, for years Draco had had something bad to say about Potter. Even while he was away on break, Draco spent his time discussing dark magic with his family, training to become a Death Eater, and entertaining new ways to embarrass and torment the Boy Who Lived. Draco calling Potter evil would definitely not be anything out of the ordinary.
So, Draco's hands were tied. He had to suffer in silence. Not only would no one believe him, but also there was no way he could reveal exactly how he'd found out. Certainly not! It was for his own safety and in his best interests that Draco take this secret to the grave. The Chosen One was a scheming, evil bastard, and Draco couldn't tell a soul. It was all very ironic, really. The one time Draco wanted to tell the truth and he couldn't.
Draco turned his head to glare venomously at Potter, who lay sleeping peacefully, bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun outside the large glass windows. If Draco concentrated he was sure he could see a satisfied smirk on Potter's lips while he snored quietly.
"Pretty good set up you've got going here, Potter," Draco muttered quietly. He glanced over at Madame Pomfrey for a moment; she was still napping, slumped over her desk. Draco sat up for the first time since he had been ordered to 'get some rest'. He removed the enchanted ice pack from where it was strapped on his stomach. He wrapped the bandages around it and set it on the nightstand with a soft clunk; the ice was still hard as a rock thanks to the magic placed on it.
Draco unbuttoned his shirt and inspected his tender bruises cautiously. They were now an angry purple color and seemed to glow brightly against his pale skin. He ran his fingers gently across them. His bruises were still cool to the touch, but they stung like a burn. Draco sighed and looked back at Potter who seemed to be snoozing without a care in the world. Draco rested an elbow on his knee and let his head lean into his hand, moving slowly out of concern for his injuries. He then retuned to glaring at Potter.
"You've got everyone wrapped around your finger, haven't you?" Draco asked the unconscious Harry. "Pretending to be a courageous hero, and all. Now everyone praises you and they have no idea what you're really like." Draco's lips curved into a smile and he chuckled, "Who would've thought you'd be a conniving prat? You fooled all of us. Even me." Draco leaned back on his hands and continued to observe Potter, his expression becoming more curious and intrigued than angry.
"It's actually quite funny," Draco continued, "All these years I've hated you and tried to make your life a living hell… and even I didn't really believe you were a horrible person!" Draco snorted indignantly and few more laughs bubbled up. "After a while… it just started to feel like it was my job to hate you or something. No not job, more like a hobby, really. A little something to brighten my day."
For a few moments, Draco actually expected Potter to answer. Maybe he'd been listening the whole time just to see if Draco revealed something incriminating. Draco wouldn't put it past this new Harry Potter he had come to discover. But as the seconds ticked by, it became apparent to Draco that he might as well have been talking to himself. He abruptly threw back the covers on his bed and padded quietly over to where he'd seen Madame Pomfrey store the pumpkin juice. He poured himself a glass and returned to bed, taking small sips.
"Ridiculous," Draco murmured suddenly. "Talking to myself. Maybe some one cast a Jelly-Brain Jinx on me or Crucio cursed me to insanity. Then all of this would make sense." Draco leaned over the back of his bed. He cracked open the bottom half of the window and let cool air flow in.
Sounds and smells of the supper feast wafted in on the breeze, ruffling Draco's hair as he sat on the thin, old mattress. He closed his eyes and listened to snip its of muffled conversations, savoring each drop of pumpkin juice before he swallowed it.
"The steak tonight is delicious!"
"He'll come around, Margaret. Don't look so-"
"-right behind that house elf statue! I didn't believe it at first but-"
"It was amazing! Piles of sweets just laying there-"
"Thank Merlin, P.E. was cancelled to day! I wonder why though?"
At this comment, Draco's eyes popped open. He guzzled the last of his pumpkin juice and set the glass on a nightstand next to his ice pack. He approached the window and squeezed his top half out of it, leaning as far as he dared out of the opening. He concentrated on the large, yellowish, glass windows of the Great Hall. Draco strained his ears to hear something else, but all of the chatter seemed to blend together now without a distinguishable beginning or end.
Suddenly though, all of the merriment fell silent. Draco brought his attention to the front of the hall where a robed figure approached the podium. Draco couldn't tell who it was at first; the warped glass had rippled every thing behind it. Then a familiar voice boomed a greeting to all of the students.
"Good evening, Hogwarts students!" Professor Dumbledore cried out in a cheerful yet slightly weary voice. "I have some interesting news for all of you. It has been brought to my attention, by one of the staff, that several students have been injured due to our extra class this year."
There was a rustle of whispers that passed through the hall.
"Injured? Who could-"
"Harry wasn't in classes this morning-"
"Yeah, Potter's been nowhere insight-"
"-visited him in the hospital wing-"
"Malfoy isn't around either-"
"The bloody prick-"
"Probably just ditching-"
"Remember the Buckbeak incident-"
"Faker-"
"Quiet students, quiet!" Dumbledore called out again, rapping something soundly against the metal podium. "Regardless of who the students are I must take the accident into consideration. I have decided that we will skip ahead to the indoor portion of the lesson early. The rest of the week we shall all do some research on the human body. Hopefully this will better prepare us and help us to avoid further injury."
Conversation rose to a roar once again. Cheers and hoots and hollers sounded all across the four tables. Dumbledore wished them a scrumptious dessert and then shuffled back to the teacher's table. Draco remained positioned half way out the window. He wanted to rejoice just like the rest of the students, but something held him back. Like a sixth sense had kicked in, Draco could practically touch the bad feeling in the air. This all sounded a little too good to be true. Draco knew that this wouldn't be the end of all the hell this class would put him through.
Not to mention, his partner in that class for who knows how long was Harry Potter: his mortal enemy. Nothing good could possibly come from a slight change in schedule, even if it was inside around nice, safe books.
Then, abruptly, Draco heard a bedspring creak. The noise sent Draco's heart leaping up into his throat. He back peddled quickly, smacking his head smartly against the metal frame of the window. His vision was dotted with purples and greens as he held the back of his head tightly. Draco looked around blindly, seeing only glimpses of the infirmary around him.
When he could finally see again, his eyes fell immediately on Potter's sleeping form. He looked the same as he had a moment ago but… had that crease in the blanket always been there? And had his pillow been at that angle before? Draco also thought for a moment that Potter's breath sounded shallower than his normal soft snores. Had he really been listening all this time?
"Mr. Malfoy!" A familiar voice cried shrilly. "What are you doing out of bed, again! And without your ice pack!" Draco looked up to meet Madame Pomfrey's fiery gaze and dropped his hands from around his head.
"Sorry… just a… bad dream," Draco lied, glancing between her and Potter. Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes and shooed Draco into bed again. She rewrapped his ice pack and pushed him back against the pillow herself.
For what felt like half an hour she lectured him thoroughly about the proper care of injuries such as his. After she had her fill of talking she turned away and went to mix a new potion. Draco made a face at her while she was turned away.
Then, out of the corner of Draco's eye, he saw a dash of brilliant green. He turned immediately, thinking he'd finally caught Potter in the act. When his eyes fell on Harry, however, he remained still and asleep.
"Damn it, Potter," Draco whispered fiercely through his teeth.
"Hush Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey commanded crossly as she returned to Draco's side, a frothy pink potion in hand. "He needs his rest just as you do. Now take this." She held the beaker out for Draco to take.
'Damn, old bat,' Draco thought to himself. He held his tongue though, and took the medicine. As the pink juice traveled down his throat, Draco felt immediate warmth. His whole mouth was tingling and his esophagus was on fire. It felt like he had just chewed a whole pack of cinnamon gum.
Draco opened his mouth to take a breath but when he exhaled, pink steam rose of his tongue and came smoking out of his nostrils. Draco felt terrified at first. He tried to ask Madame Pomfrey what she had done to him, but as the potion took effect, his negative feelings were swept away as easily as a shell on the beach. He began to feel delightfully lightheaded and found himself breathing out trails of pink smoke just for his own amusement. His pupils drifted in and out of focus and a few giggles escaped his lips.
Draco turned his suddenly heavy head towards Harry. Through all the pink fog Draco was sure he saw Potter looking at him, two green lighthouses shining through a sea of cherry. Draco giggled again, a sloppy smile sliding across his lips. He raised his hand slightly and let his fingers curl and uncurl sluggishly in what was supposed to be a wave.
Then, right before Draco slipped into a heavenly state of unconsciousness, his lips puckered faintly and he blew a delicate trail of spicy vapor towards Harry. He watched Potter's eyes tear up and blink as the sweet and peppery mist wafted in his face. Then, Draco disappeared into a blissful slumber, his dreams full of pink rivers and green-eyed elves.
…
The next morning Draco awoke with a start to an empty infirmary. No one had bothered to wake him and he had slept through his first few classes. He dressed quickly and put on the charmed cooling wraps that Madame Pomfrey had left for him underneath his shirt and gray sweater vest.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur for Draco. He barely paid any attention in his lessons. He was too troubled by the dream he'd had. In it, Draco had been an old world villager who was supposed to go to the forest to harvest the peaches that were ripe for picking. Once he made it through all of the thick, pink foliage, Draco came upon a lone peach tree. After only a few minutes of fruit picking, a half naked, human looking, demon approached Draco and persuaded him to hand over his only knife.
Draco was sure the monster had used some sort of dark magic, but he was too enchanted at the moment to care. Then, while Draco had his guard down, the green-eyed man creature snuck up behind him and… well, Draco didn't think about that part too deeply. Lets just say he was glad that someone had been kind enough to bring him a fresh pair of underwear to change into that morning.
So, it was completely understandable that Draco had not been too aware of his surroundings while he drifted aimlessly towards the classroom that P.E. had been moved to. He had been trying not to think about the stickiness of the peach juice that had dripped so realistically down his back when he rounded the corner and ran into someone.
Draco flailed backwards before a hand caught his wrist and pulled him back to balance. Draco looked up and felt his cheeks light up like a Christmas tree.
"Malfoy..." Harry Potter said, his tone a mix of smugness and expectancy. Almost as if he knew he would eventually run into Draco this way.
"Potter." Draco replied curtly, looking away immediately before walking right past him. 'Of all the damn people to run into,' Draco thought as he tried not to think about those green eyes and his dream.
"Wait up, partner," Harry called with a grin, falling into step with the embarrassed young Malfoy.
"Shut up, Potter," Draco spat, keeping his eyes forward. He found it much easier to be insulting without actually looking Potter in the face. "I don't care if you are my partner. Believe me, you weren't first one on my list. I'd rather be with Longbottom or Weasley before you."
"Back to this again, are we Malfoy?" Harry sighed dramatically, "What happened to that adorably shy and obedient boy I met in the hospital wing yesterday?"
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're prattling on about, Potter," Draco said, mustering up as much confidence as he could, trying to put a venomous snap in his words. He had hoped to keep this dangerous topic in the past.
"Really?" Potter asked, sounding convincingly puzzled, "Well I certainly remember. And another thing, Malfoy, if you're going to call out my name like that you really should use my first name."
Draco jaw just about hit the floor. He came to an immediate halt, and his head swiveled so fast to meet Harry's gaze that it looked painful.
"What the hell are you saying?!" Draco whispered fiercely through clenched teeth, his voice quickly climbing octaves. "We were not going to mention that! Remember?!" Draco paused to look around, glaring at any underclassmen that passed by. He waited for the hall to empty before continuing. "We had an agreement, Potter! You promised you'd stay quiet! You're the Chosen One, after all. The Boy Who Lived! All that you have is based on truth and honesty and all that goody goody rubbish! You wouldn't dare go back on your word! " Draco looked Potter straight in the eyes as he spoke, hoping desperately that he would just drop the whole subject all together.
However, to Draco's dismay, Harry squared his shoulders and his expression turned serious.
"Oh, wouldn't I?" Harry said with a steely edge in his tone. "No one knows a thing about what actually happened nor do they know the nature of our agreement. No one would know if I was going back on my word."
Draco could practically feel himself shrinking to the floor. Potter did have a point. No one really knew what had gone on in the infirmary. And as far as their deal went, Draco realized now that he was fully and completely at Potter's mercy. Then suddenly, a wicked, toothy smile split open on Potter's face, and Draco knew he was done for.
"But you are right about one thing, Malfoy. I have built up my reputation on all that nice guy 'rubbish'. Now, no one doubts me. I can say anything I want and people will worship it like the holy truth. I suppose you know what that means, eh Draco?" As Harry purred his name, Draco shivered. It felt so strange to hear his first name spoken with Potter's voice. It was much different than the first time he'd said it while he tormented Draco with that stretch. That time, Potter had made Draco's name sound like a curse. This time, though, he managed to make it sound dirty just by curling his lips slowly around each syllable.
"It means," Harry said, taking a step closer, "that I can twist the truth however I like and no one will be the wiser. Besides, who are people going to believe? You or me?" Draco remained silent, already knowing the answer.
Potter was right. He had Draco cornered like a cat corners a rat. Draco glared up at Potter, holding back all the hopelessness that was trying to cloud his features. Harry looked back at him. His serious expression unexpectedly melted away and it was replaced with a look of sympathy, like an adult looking at a child. Draco felt furious that Potter had the nerve to look concerned.
"Don't worry though," Potter continued, stepping back slightly, "I wont reveal anything now. Not just yet." That was all Draco wanted to hear. He turned away and hurried down the hall, wanting to have back the past two days to do over again. His overwhelming misery just about brought tears to his eyes. Almost. Draco hadn't felt this ridiculous or had the overpowering urge to cry like this since Granger had punched him in the nose.
"Hey, now," Potter said, catching up to Draco, "I didn't say that me keeping quiet would be free of charge."
"Oh yeah?" Draco said in a wobbly voice, keeping his eyes on the hall ahead of him, "and what could you possibly want from me? Money? Valuables? Or would you rather make me do something embarrassing? I have to say, if mortifying me was you're only goal then you've succeeded sufficiently and then some!"
"I'm shocked, Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed, hamming it up, "You think I would black mail you for something as simple as money? And, although it is a great deal of fun to see you flustered, that's not my ultimate goal."
"Then what the bloody hell are you after?!" Draco barked sharply, in no mood for more of this nonsense.
"Let's just say that you have to do whatever I want, whenever I want, no questions asked."
Draco's rage peaked in a flash. In an instant, he whipped out his wand and had Potter pinned to the wall by his throat. Potter's eyes widened in surprise as Draco growled, actually growled, at him.
"Damn it to hell, Potter! I've had enough of these stupid games! You'll keep quiet even if I have to kill you!" Draco was serious now. He didn't care about the whispering students that passed. In fact, he wanted them all to see. To witness him being in charge.
But then, for what seemed to be the hundredth time that year, Harry rebuffed Draco's attempts at maintaining control with a nefarious smile.
"You're not going to kill me," Harry said calmly, his Adam's apple pushing against Draco's wand. "Besides, how hard would it be to follow my simple commands? I'm sure you've done harder things for Voldemort already." Draco pressed his wand into the soft skin under Potter's chin.
"Malfoys don't follow the orders of a half breed like you," Draco said in the most hateful voice he could gather.
"On the contrary, Malfoy," Harry said, that damned smile still on his face, "you don't have a choice."
The both of them fell silent; Harry, confident in his logic, and Draco, holding on to what little pride he had left. The two of them stayed in those positions for what seemed like ages, neither one moving or blinking or looking away. Who knows how long the two rivals may have remained that way? If Dumbledore hadn't popped his head out from the classroom door, Harry and Draco might have tried to stare each other down until they were old and gray.
"Boys!" Dumbledore called from the door. "Class has started! Enough fooling around if you please?" With one last furrow of his brows, Draco flicked his wand away from Harry. He pocketed it and began to walk towards class. Potter fell into step with Draco again without a word. But a triumphant smile was now stretched happily across his lips.
-
Cliffhanger!
Sorry to end it there, but the next chapter will focus on the health portion of PE rather than the working out. There is plenty of fun to be had there, too. Trust me ;) I've got big plans for the boys' future.