Romeo, Romeo…
Harry sighed with relief as Dean handed him the wrapped package. It being so near the end of the month, he hadn't been sure there would be any of the other boy's secret stash left and had been pleased when Dean readily gave the rest to him. "Thanks so much, Dean," Harry said, looking down at the small box in his hands. "You're a real friend."
Dean laughed. "For that?" he replied doubtfully. "If that's what you want to base your friendship on, good for you. Just don't let anyone know I gave it all to you. If the others find out, we might have a little chaos on our hands." He rolled his eyes. "Especially if Fred and George decide to get involved."
Harry laughed a little, as if it had been a joke. Truthfully, he knew Gryffindors, and he knew if they discovered he'd taken the last of Dean's supplies, chaos was exactly what would happen. He carefully slipped the package under his pillow before flopping down on his bed, script in hand.
Dean puttered around the room for a few minutes then sat at his own desk, presumably to work on homework. He kept glancing at his watch though and shortly before five, jumped from his chair and, waving good bye to Harry, bolted from the room.
Harry didn't have long to wonder what lit a fire under his friend because only moments later, the door flew open to reveal Seamus, sweat glistening on his forehead and breathing heavily from his dash up the stairs. The Irish boy scanned the room quickly before asking breathlessly, "Have… have you seen Dean?"
Feeling just the slightest bit guilty, Harry shook his head. "Not lately," he answered, flipping the page on the script. Rather than leaving as he'd expected though, Seamus slammed the door and, groaning his frustration, stomped over to fall face-down on his own bed.
Harry really couldn't blame the boy. It had not been a banner day for Seamus. He'd bounced back from his failure to catch Dean alone yesterday fairly easily but Harry knew of at least three times today that had also ended badly. The crowning achievement of downright awfulness had, of course, been potions class. Harry shook his head as he watched Seamus roll over and stare moodily up at the ceiling. Well, actually, it hadn't been the entire class, just the end that had left the day feeling as though recovery were impossible.
Seamus had been standing in line, ready to turn in his failed potion to Professor Snape, when he tripped over a stone that sat just a bit higher than the ones surrounding it. The vial slipped from his fingers as he flung out his hands to stop his fall, a completely unsuccessful maneuver. For once though, his potion caused no sort of explosion or even the faintest plume of smoke. Harry had thought that was funny considering Snape had assigned each pair of students a volatile potion to brew.
The Slytherin standing behind Seamus had had no difficulties in creating the acid he'd been assigned and, with a disgusted look down at the sandy-haired boy still on the floor, moved to step around him. Instead, he placed his foot squarely in the center of the goopy mess that had been Seamus' potion, and slipped, his vial flying up in a graceful arc as the boy fell heavily to the floor. The glass shattered as it landed in the center of Snape's desk, and steam billowed into the air as the acid ate away at the solid wood.
Hermione had rushed forward, wand out and ready to wash away the fluid. Before Harry could warn her of the danger though, she'd tripped over the Slytherin's outstretched foot. Her potion vial cracked as it hit one of the remaining feet of the desk and, as the other students looked on in stunned silence, the entire area burst into brilliant purple flames. In seconds, all that remained of the desk was a pile of ash.
For long moments, no one said a word, Harry among them. It had all happened so quickly. He looked down at Seamus, who still lay on his stomach on the stone floor and was staring wide-eyed at the place where Snape's desk had stood just moments ago. "Wow," he finally whispered. Then, as if the word had broken a trance, the students began muttering to one another until Snape cleared his throat.
All things considered, Harry thought Seamus had gotten off lightly with two hours of detention and the loss of fifty points. It was the other students who really turned the event into a disaster.
Usually, the potions essays that were due each Monday were graded and returned the next day. That particular Monday evening, however, Snape had had "other obligations" and had been unable to complete the task, as he'd informed each class as they arrived, and the essays had still been stacked in neat rows on the desk from the day before. While they'd made it through the acid unscathed, the heavy paper had quickly caught fire, leaving only charred, blackened remnants of their homework.
It was when Snape announced that the students would have to rewrite the papers, and that they would only have until Wednesday to do so, that the class began to turn angry or hateful glares on Seamus, who groaned and ducked his head, too frustrated anyway to do the usual and joke his way out of their bad graces.
Harry shook his head again as he remembered. He flipped through a few more pages of the script before Seamus finally stood from his bed and stretched. "Well," he said, almost sounding like his usual cheerful self, "I'm heading down for dinner. Coming, Harry?" he paused be the door, looking back at his friend.
Harry shook his head. "I've really got to finish this," he answered, waving the script a little. "I just grab something from the kitchens later." Seamus nodded and left. As soon as the door clicked closed, Harry stood and moved quickly, opening the panel and checking to be sure no one was coming. Then, he walked back to his bed and pulled the package from beneath the pillow, shaking his head down at it.
Tucking the package securely under his arm, Harry made his way through the common room, mostly empty at dinnertime, and slipped through portrait hole. He was already running late and his luck, which had soured as soon as Dean had given him the package, stayed true. Harry got lost twice on the way when the staircases decided that it would be a good time to move. When he finally made it to the empty Arithmancy classroom a good hour late, he wasn't expecting Malfoy to be there.
He stood outside the door for a moment, trying to catch his breath. When he sounded a little more normal than the heavy gasping the long run had reduced his usual rhythm, Harry finally opened the door.
Rays of evening sun slated across the desks, casting lines across the room's wooden floor and the windows offered a perfect view, to anyone who cared, of the sun just dipping below the trees. Harry didn't care. He took a few steps inside and closed the door softly behind him. Casting a look around the room, he wasn't surprised to find it empty.
Harry sighed with frustration and kicked a leg of one of the desks before dropping the package on the table at the head of the room and dropping into a chair. He stared moodily at the simple box, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking his legs out in front of him.
"You're late." The voice seemed to come out of no where and Harry jumped. Unfortunately, he'd been leaning the chair back as he contemplated some of the vials and powders arranged on the table near his package and the two legs of the chair that were still in contact with the floor were unable to handle his surprise.
The chair slipped from under him and both, Harry and the chair, hit the floor with a resounding bang. "Shit!" Harry cried as his head collided with the cold stone of the wall behind him. He lifted a hand to the tender spot and bit his lip to keep the tears from rushing to his eyes. After the begging he'd done yesterday, he really did not want to offer Draco Malfoy another show.
"Are you alive?" Malfoy drawled softly. Harry opened one eye to find the other boy standing above, looking down with one eyebrow raised.
He stared up for a few seconds before he finally managed to say anything. "You're not laughing?"
Malfoy watched him stand, still holding his head gingerly, then waved him to another chair, one that sat quite securely on four legs. "If the incident repeats itself tomorrow, I will be the first to show my amusement," he replied taking the chair behind the teachers' desk and pulling the package to the direct center. "This is it, then?" he asked, tapping the edge of the wrapped box.
Harry started to nod then, finding the movement just a little too painful, answered, "Yeah."
Malfoy seemed to take his word for it and nodded once as he pushed the package to the side of the desk. "Have you memorized the lines of Act One yet?"
Harry looked down. "Not yet. I tried…"
Malfoy snorted. "I don't care about what you tried," he sneered standing and coming around the desk. He leaned his hip against the edge and crossed his arms over his chest, using the greater height to glare down at the Gryffindor. "It was a yes or no question. You didn't learn the lines." He grabbed a stack of papers from table behind him and tossed it to Harry. "Read them," the blond ordered.
Harry bit his lip again, this time to keep his natural rude response from escaping, and looked down at the papers. It was a copy of the script, of just Act One if the thickness was any indication. He glanced up at Malfoy, who stood unmoving by the desk, before flipping through to his first lines. "Is the day so young?"
"Stop," Malfoy ordered and Harry looked up, surprised. "I said read it," the other boy snapped. "That doesn't mean you're acting. Just read the lines out loud, like you would a list."
Harry frowned. He couldn't see how that would help him act. Looking down at the page, he started over trying not to put any feeling into the words. After a few false starts, he seemed to manage that to Malfoy's satisfaction and read on, with his tutor reciting lines for all the other parts. Harry stumbled over a few of his lines when he noticed that Malfoy didn't even have a script in front of him, but otherwise the reading went off without a hitch. When they reached the end of the act, Harry was surprised to realize he hadn't had any trouble.
"Again," was all Malfoy said when Harry looked up at the end of the act. The blond had moved to sit on the desk, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands as he stared intently at Harry, who was all too happy to stop looking into those cold eyes. He started again, and this time he read each line smoothly, making sure not to read the emotions Shakespeare had intended.
"Again," Malfoy said at the end of the act. Harry glared up a retort ready on the tip of his tongue, but Malfoy leaned forward, grabbed the script and jerked it away from Harry. "Again," he repeated sharply, eyes narrowing as he glared.
Harry glared back, his gaze flicking between Malfoy and the script, clutched firmly in the boy's hand. Then Malfoy smiled coldly and leaned back a little, holding the script and waving it lightly, as if fanning himself. It was a silent reminder of just who had begged for his help and Harry could feel himself tense.
"Is the day so young?" he bit out, concentrating on the fists clenched beneath his desk.
"But new struck nine," Malfoy replied, reciting Benvolio's line.
Harry ignored that the other boy was smirking at him and tried to focus on his next line. "Ay me," he started slowly, "sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast?" He looked up at Malfoy, surprise overriding his anger. He hadn't screwed that line up.
Malfoy said nothing aside from Benvolio's next line, and Harry responded, not taking his eyes from Malfoy's smirking face as he continued the conversation, right up to the end of the first scene.
Without pausing, Malfoy continued into the second scene. Harry stumbled a little as he started his lines. Even so, it was better than yesterday's rehearsal. At least now, once he started, each line went smoothly. They skipped the third scene, as they had before, and Harry paused as he tried to remember Romeo's opening line form the fourth. Malfoy said nothing, he face a blank mask as he offered not even the slightest hint.
Harry bit his lip, frowning as his gaze wandered out the window and he stared a little into the darkness that had fallen. Then slowly, "What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or…" he paused again. "Or shall we…er…shall we on without apology?" He looked up at Malfoy, who nodded, and Harry broke into a grin. He managed to make it through the last two scenes, fumbling his lines considerably more that he had been, but as he'd never made it so far into the script on his own, Harry figured he was doing pretty good.
Malfoy nodded again and tossed the script aside as they finished. "Congratulations, Potter," he said dryly and reached over to pull the box into his lap. "You have just memorized Act One."
Harry snorted, "Sure, so long as I can say the lines with absolutely zero feeling, which I'm sure the audience will appreciate." Even so, he was secretly pleased with himself and watched as Malfoy finally ripped the paper and opened the box.
Malfoy either forgot he was there or didn't care because as soon as he removed the top of the box, a smile spread across his face. Harry almost fell on his way to the door, tripping over his own feet in surprise. A smile? A genuine smile from the guy every girl in Gryffindor called the Ice Prince? Well, that or 'snob', 'jerk' and the occasional 'bastard', but even so.
He shook off his shock and started toward the door again, trying not to draw too much attention. Malfoy could ruin a good mood with one look and Harry rather wanted to keep his for a while. It was so much better than the rotten mood he'd ended the last two weeks with. "Potter," Malfoy called. Harry grimaced a little and turned back around. "See you next Tuesday," the blond finished and lifted the box, a subtle reminder to bring more.
Harry nodded and slipped from the room. He stood outside the door for a few minutes feeling the smile. Then he pushed himself away from the wood and started to make his way back to the dorms. He made it as far as the entrance hall before he ran into Lisa Turpin.
"Harry!" she called breathlessly and skipped over to his side. Slipping and arm around his, Lisa laid her head on Harry's shoulder and sighed happily. "Oh, I had to thank you again," she gushed. "I just had the best night I've had since school started."
Harry laughed. "Oh, really,' he prompted, thinking of his own good luck that night. He'd made it through an entire Act! By memory! With Malfoy and himself still both alive. Truly a noteworthy accomplishment. He chuckled a little to himself and Lisa started to ramble on about he boyfriend.
As they approached the top of the staircase, the doors to the Great Hall opened and a piercing squeal echoed through the hall. Harry spun and leaned over the railing to see what the problem was, only to find Lavender Brown and a sizable group of girls pointing and giggling in his direction.
He blushed and turned back, grabbing Lisa's hand and nearly pulling her down the hall. Once he'd put two floors and five rooms between them and the Great Hall, Harry lat go. "Lisa, I'm so sorry," he started, feeling his face darken more.
"Pssh," she said and waved a hand at him. "They thought exactly want they've been thinking since yesterday. Now they figure they just have proof." She shrugged. "It's all fine as long as no one figures out the truth, right?"
Harry grinned and nodded. 'Yeah," he answered, and imagined his housemates' reactions if they ever caught him in acting lessons with Malfoy. "As long as no one figures out the truth," he repeated and laughed.
"Thanks, Potter," Lisa slapped him on the back and waved over her shoulder as she strolled away, humming happily. Harry smiled behind her and headed back to his own dorm, where he knew he would be attacked by every gossip hound in Gryffindor. He rolled his eyes as he thought of the Creevey brothers. Please, please, please, don't make me go blind this time, he begged silently.
It wasn't until later that night, when he'd finally escaped the torture the girls called gossip when he'd finally gained his sight back from the Creevey brothers' double camera attack, when Ron and Seamus finally exhausted their arsenal of questions about Lisa, and he was lying in his bed that Harry finally had time to think.
He shifted a little, rolling onto his back and sticking his arm under his head as he stared up at the ceiling and grinned to himself. Of all the people at Hogwarts, of all the people he'd ever met if he really thought about it, Draco Malfoy would be the last one he'd figure would be smiling at nothing more than a box full of simple Muggle-made chocolate bars.
A/N: Well? Tell me what you think, yea? Thanks to xxrosaliecullenxx, Soralizio, lysistratafun,brionyjae, and SwarmOfFangirls for the lovely reviews!