Chptr8
Harry was flushed when she sat down in the blissfully baltic potions dungeon. She couldn't understand what had come over her in the corridor and she was not used to having such strong feelings about anyone, let alone Draco Malfoy. She smacked her hand repeatedly against her forehead - possibly to beat the very thoughts out of her head. She resolved not to think anymore on this matter until she had to. She didn't want to give Snape a reason to not work on the cure. She wanted out of this. She didn't want any complications.
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Hermione was watching Harry curiously – something was definitely up. She decided not to say anything when she started inflicting brain damage upon herself, partially because that would have been hypocritical based on Hermione's tendency to do the exact same thing, and partially because she had a sneaking suspicion of the reason for Harry's odd behaviour in the corridor. She realised she was going to have to instigate a girls talk with Harry to get to the root of the matter. She found she didn't actually mind that much.
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Harry was studiously ignoring Draco, or at least attempting to. Or attempting to tell herself to… Alright, she wasn't. But in her defence, he was ridiculously attractive. She kept sneaking glances at the back of his head when she got the opportunity, admiring his perfectly groomed hair, his pale skin, and the grace of his movements – she bet that somebody took dance classes... She didn't even realise she was being so obvious about the matter until the object of her affections turned around to glare half-heartedly at her.
"What are you looking at Potter?" He sneered with a curl of his lip, "Trying to burn a hole in the back of my head? Well I'm afraid you're not as powerful as you think wonder boy. Or should I make that girl". Harry was so irritated by the comment in general, that she didn't even notice how lame it was. Pansy Parkinson sniggered. Harry felt a rush of hatred towards a girl she'd been mostly ambivalent towards before. Flushing scarlet at her realisation why, she ducked her head down and continued chopping whatever it was she was chopping, hiding her face behind her shaggy hair. It turned out that the thing she was chopping was her quill. She yelped and ducked under her desk to retrieve a new quill from her bag, and catch a breather. Now she knew why all those girls had acted so strangely around her back when she was the boy who lived. Being a girl was hard. She shot a silent apology at 'Mione for behind so dense.
It took Harry a while to get back into the swing of the lesson. The shock of him turning around during her ogling session had fried some connections in her brain and fucked with her concentration… but those cheekbones… and those eyes. He was still a jerk though. She started chopping more violently, imagining Pansy's neck under her knife.
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Draco was having a hard time being mean to Potter. He didn't want to give up on the act and let on that he had feelings for someone like Potter. Why did this have to happen to him of all people? Especially since, if he nurtured his newly-realised feelings and Harry turned back into a boy, then where would he be? Disowned from his family, that's where. Why the hell would he have been so mean to Potter before if that wasn't the case. Ok, he did not just think that. He tried to enjoy spending time with Pansy, but it was incredibly hard, and he wasn't. She just rubbed him up the wrong way… and he refused to follow that line of thought all the way through because, as he was a teenage boy, it involved the object of his current affections and rubbing up the right way. He immersed himself in potion making to hide his flush. No arousal here… none at all…
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Snape didn't get much done that lesson for he was too busy reminiscing. He hadn't vouched for the fact that Harry would look so much like her mother. When Harry had walked in, it had been like a punch to the gut for Snape who had never really gotten over his first love. He had been so shocked he had barely spoken to the class, just faintly told them what page to work from, and slumped behind his desk. He was torn between wanting to cure Potter to stop from feeling fresh pain every time he laid eyes on the girl, and procrastinating on the job so he could see Lily's face again and again. After the students left the classroom, he let out a single tear in lament for his lost love.
Lot's of emotional development, I hope! Let me know what you think!