A/N: Ha! You can't blame me for tardiness this time! It was my birthday and immediately after, I caught the flu or some such horrid sickness. Left me laid up for days! Blame nature this time and let's ignore the writer's block I suffered from simultaneously, ok?
Seamus had more bravery than any Gryffindor had ever given him credit for, Harry decided two weeks later. The next rehearsal would be the long-awaited full dress rehearsal and Hermione and her unwilling recruits had pulled aside nearly half of the cast as they hurriedly finished fittings. That she trusted her Slytherin crew with the sets they'd destroyed more than once said much about Hermione's state of panic. Time was drawing short, Binns had more than once told the girl, and the pressure was weighing on her enough that even Harry could sense it. The absence of actors did nothing to deter Trelawney however. The bug-eyed professor was intent on staying on schedule and Seamus stood across the stage from Malfoy.
Despite the fact that this would be the scene of his character's death, Seamus seemed completely unconcerned, throwing himself so entirely into the role of Mercutio that one might have believed he really was Justin's best friend. "By my head, here come the Capulets," Justin announced, much more at ease without Malfoy glaring him down, and Harry straightened from leaning against the wall. He would be called to enter soon, but that wasn't why he suddenly decided to pay attention. Malfoy was walking across the stage, flanked by Capulet-cast cohorts, and even though the boy hadn't spared him a glance in the last two weeks, Harry could still feel the blush the mere sight of the Slytherin encouraged rising on his cheeks.
"By my heel, I care not," Seamus gave his answer flippantly, but Harry hardly noticed. He chewed on his thumbnail as he watched Malfoy and Seamus exchanging lines. Malfoy had kissed him, he'd dreamed about that moment too many times to have imagined it, but the other boy had completely avoided him ever since. Though he'd waited three hours in that dusty room, Malfoy hadn't shown up for their usual practice session, and Harry had gotten the opportunity once to ask why. Malfoy's answer, that Harry no longer needed the lessons, had made sense of course, but Harry wasn't satisfied. He'd only just come to terms with his feelings for Malfoy, and now the blond wanted nothing to do with him?
He strolled out onto the stage, fighting the urge to bite his lip at the shivers than ran up his spine when Malfoy drawled in that cold tone that only barely hid the anger, real or feigned Harry was increasingly unable to define, "Well, peace be with you sir, here comes my man."
And Seamus' words flew past his ears, only the buzzing of a mosquito for all Harry could make of it, when Malfoy's gray gaze met his. There were too many words in this section, Harry decided, that he would very much like taken another way. Damn Shakespeare anyway, Harry thought, choosing to ignore, like any sane Gryffindor, that the long-dead wizard couldn't actually be faulted for his falling in love with Draco Malfoy. "Romeo," Malfoy snarled, turning away from Seamus entirely, "the love I bear thee can afford no better term than this- thou art a villain."
They were only lines in a play, but still the words hurt. Malfoy was an exceptionally good actor, Harry had already learned over the weeks, but it still felt as if it were Malfoy, not just Tybalt, accusing him of some crime or other. He'd apologized, or rather, he'd tried to. It wasn't his fault that the other boy hadn't really given him the opportunity and why was Seamus gesturing so enthusiastically? Harry flushed when he noticed the impatient look on Draco's face. He'd almost forgotten his own lines and he hurriedly replied, hoping the silence hadn't dragged on too long. "Tybalt, the reason I have to love thee doth much excuse the appertaining rage to such a greeting. Villain am I none. Therefore, farewell, I see thou know'st me not."
Over Malfoy's shoulder, Harry could see Justin and Seamus exchange a surprised look and he didn't have to turn his head a bit to know that they weren't the only ones. Even he was a bit in awe of how well he'd managed to catch Romeo's emotion in that line, and wondered how much of it he had to thank Malfoy for.
It was a short-lived moment of pleasure though and too soon Malfoy interrupted, snarling, "Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries that thou hast done me." He moved forward, his entire attitude menacing enough that Harry almost gulped. "Therefore turn and draw."
"I do protest," Harry started but it sounded unsure, even to his own ears. He caught a glimpse of victory in Malfoy's eyes and straightened his back. If he couldn't take on Malfoy in a play, no way could he do it in real life. Where ever his spine had gone, it was time to get it back. He was Harry Potter, who wasn't a coward, and it was time to start acting like it. "I never injured thee," he continued, only a little disappointed that Malfoy's expression never faltered at the sudden strength of his words. "But love thee better than thou canst devise till thou shalt know the reason of my love. An so, good Capulet, which name I tender as dearly as mine on, be satisfied."
Seamus broke in then, drawing Malfoy's gaze finally away from Harry, and Harry breathed a small sigh of relief that he would never admit to. "Oh, calm, dishonorable, vile submission," the Irish boy proclaimed, playing the disgusted friend almost too well. At least, Harry almost smiled at the sight. "Alla stoccata carries it away." He reached down and pulled one of Ron's dulled swords from his belt, hardly able to contain his excitement at finally getting to wield it. He wasn't the only member of the cast who'd been looking forward to the sword fights. "Tybalt, you rat catcher, will you walk?"
Draco turned smoothly to Seamus, and Harry envied his grace as the boy rested his hand on the hilt of the sword hanging from his own waist. "What wouldst thou have with me?" he drawled, but the casual air didn't fool anyone of his admirers. Even if they hadn't known what was coming, Harry was sure anyone listening could guess just from the dangerous lift of Malfoy's brow.
"Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight." It had long been a mystery to Harry just how Seamus managed to combine humor and anger into one, but it made for an entertaining Mercutio. He almost dreaded the moment that Seamus would leave the play. It was a tragedy that lost it comedic edge when Mercutio fell.
Harry shook himself from his contemplation just in time to cry out his own line, which of course went ignored. "Come sir, your passado!" The clanging of the swords rang through the hall, drowning out Romeo's protests and when Malfoy stabbed at Seamus under Harry's arm, the gasp of pain sounded almost too real. He spun around, not bothering to watch as Draco and the Capulet actors left the stage. "I am hurt!" Seamus proclaimed, but Harry sighed. He was only acting. When had Seamus gotten so good?
"Well done!" Binns cried out, interrupting the rehearsal and Harry sat back on his heels as he watched the two professors flitting about the stage, correcting a position here and offering a suggestion there. To Malfoy, they said nothing but praise and Harry couldn't blame them in the slightest, even as Trelawney demanded more feeling from him.
They chose to end rehearsal there, much to Seamus' quite vocal displeasure. "I wanted to see Harry fight," he whined to Dean, who only nodded as he stuck another pin through the hem of a Montague tunic, apologizing absently when the needle struck flesh and his model cursed sharply.
Harry gave them no more attention then, choosing instead to watch Draco curiously. He was speaking with a couple of Slytherins Harry immediately recognized as members of the stage crew, and though he couldn't hear what was being said, it was clear that Draco was less than happy. Perhaps it wasn't the best of times to try and re-establish contact with him, but Harry had a information and it wouldn't do him any good to hold onto it for a few more days.
As busy as she'd been the last few weeks, Hermione had still found the time to plan with Fred and George and the trio was finally ready to unleash their return attack against the Slytherins who'd dared to tamper with their food, who'd dared to genuinely anger George. Warning Malfoy of the impending attack was a good a reason as any to talk with him even once more. He waited until Malfoy finished his conversation with the two Slytherins and excused himself from Seamus and Dean, who hardly noticed, before following Malfoy to the door.
Malfoy didn't look back but Harry could tell he knew that he was being followed. He was heading straight for the Arithmancy room. "What is it, Potter," he snarled turning on his heel and glaring down at him as soon as the door had closed.
Harry took a deep breath. He'd found his spine now! He was a Gryffindor! And Merlin's beard, he was only offering a warning. It wasn't like he was hoping Malfoy would kiss him again. That he actually did was beside the point. "The twins are going after your dorms again," Harry said, glad that he managed to sound normal.
Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "They haven't given up then?" he asked after several tense moments of silence and Harry laughed.
"Fred and George?" he choked out between chuckles. "You must be joking! Just because your Slytherins knocked them out doesn't mean they're going to quit. It only elevated your house from harmless playthings to worthy opponents in their eyes. They're headed for blood now, and it's not just because Hermione told them to." He shook his head, still laughing a little at Draco's absurd assumption. "In any case, I'd stay away from your dorms for the next few days. It's not going to be pretty."
Malfoy paced across the room a little, then leaned against the edge of the teacher's desk. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. That he'd gotten his revenge for the "accidental" kiss and had severed the civil relationship between them meant that Harry was no longer under any obligation to him. Of course he'd want to know why Harry was still trying to help.
Backbone, Harry reminded himself as he raised his eyes to Malfoy's. "Because I... don't hate you," he finally answered. It wasn't want he'd wanted to say but somehow, the words were stuck in his throat and these were the best he could form. He pushed his hands into his pockets, hoping to hide the slight trembling in his fingers.
"Our deal is over, Potter," Malfoy said, but rather than the anger or even ridicule Harry expected, the other boy just sounded weary. "I helped you out and you paid me for my time. It doesn't indebt you to me for life and it certainly doesn't mean that we're friends."
"Why not?" Harry asked, not caring that he was interrupting and Draco's eyes widened slightly with surprise. "I mean, I know you're a Slytherin and I'm a Gryffindor and I know we never really got along before now, but... it was fun. Spending a few hours with you, away from everyone else. It was...fun," he finished lamely. All the other words he could think to say- that being with Malfoy, even when the other boy was being mean, was the better than time spent with his own friends, that he enjoyed uncovering faucets in the boy's personality that he'd never seen before, that he liked even the simple things he did, the expressions he showed, and the unconscious grace that only Malfoy possessed- he couldn't admit aloud, even with his newly recovered backbone, at least not when Malfoy was watching him so intently.
Draco shook his head, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. It wasn't humor though, Harry noticed, and the slight curve seemed almost sad. "Sorry, Potter," Malfoy replied, pushing himself away from the desk and moving towards Harry and the door. "But I can't see us being friends." He waited for Harry to step aside and left the room, not glancing even once over his shoulder.
Harry turned, leaning his forehead against the wall and letting the stones cool his heated face. I can't see us being friends. He'd never been very good with words, and Harry wondered, if he'd been able to say all that he'd been thinking, if he'd managed somehow to make his love known to the other boy, would his heart still be in such pain now? He closed his eyes, fighting back the burning sensation that meant tears were threatening.
He was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindor boys didn't cry unless all was lost. Harry staunchly denied the tear that slid down his cheek and gripped his fists tighter in his pockets as he held back any other traitors.
A/N: I had to get this posted tonight! And now I'm super proud. Go, me! Anyhow, thanks to LyricallyInspired, AnimeFreak2468, cyiusblack, AlineDaryen, SushiBar, magnusXalec, Draco and Hermione is like PBJ, DMbranolaHP, Cinders Kitten, amber v, Jadian Naiya, Horseygirl7, 13 eleMENTAL 31, Ibbet, Lady-Umbreon, TheSlashBunny, SexySpeedDemon, brionyjae, Kuraiyoshi, Johnnydspiratequeen, DarkWiccanPrincess, purplerawr, Embzy, Midori Heiwa, YYWKMN (thankies for abbreviation permission!), SunshineAndDaisies, Zoomi, DHrKindaFott, srey nait, and HiM'e'iTSu for the wonderful reviews! I feel like I'm forgetting someone earlier, but I counted and it seems right. Hmm~