Hello. I know you've been waiting for a while, and I'm very sorry to have taken so long.

But anyway, I suggest you re-read the previous chapters before you read this one, as I have changed them slightly.

Another Bloody Ninja Scroll

Chapter Four
A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

The younger slytherin girls cowered in the far corner of the dungeon room as their leader resolutely sat beside a dark, glowering, and simmering Draco Malfoy. A low growl erupted from the pale boy and the equally pale girl looked up from her heavy tome and raised a dark brow at him.

His blood-lust toward the girl—what was her name; Sarah Abbott—intensified at her insolence. She gave him a slow, evil, vindictive smile and turned the page, dismissing him as one would dismiss a cat crying for attention.

Deciding that he didn't want to be the one explaining the gory remains of some poor girl in the slytherin common room, Blaise Zabini plopped down in between them.

"Something wrong, mate?" The girl's fingers clenched as he spoke, and the pages crinkled quietly.

The iced mercury of the other boy's eyes sharpened. "No," He snapped. "I'm fine."

"Tch." Blaise stretched his arm out along the back of the plush couch, his right hand resting behind the fuming blond and his left trailing on the back of the girl's neck.

He smirked as he felt her tense beneath his fingertips but focused on Draco, continuing his efforts to calm him. "I know your father taught you to lie better than that."

Draco paused and opened his mouth to speak.

Whatever he was about to say was forgotten as a series of loud crashes sounded from the boy's wing.

Exchanging looks, Draco and Blaise both stood to investigate. Sarah sighed with obvious relief.

Blaise decided not to comment.

The farther down the darkened hall they walked, the more distinct the crashes became.

Blaise heard shattering glass, shredding paper, and what sounded oddly close to someone slamming their fist into a mirror so hard that it crunched into powder.

Frowning at the carved-in symbol underneath what must have been Sasuke's last name, Blaise knocked firmly on the door. What is that, anyway, some kind of crest?

Their eyes widened as another series of thuds slammed into the door.

There was a short, awkward silence before Sasuke's deep, quiet voice rang past the door.

"What is it?" The slight rasp to his voice was surely their imagination.

Taking that as permission to enter, Blaise casually opened the door wide, revealing the pandemonium that had taken over the boy's room.

The curtains that had once shone emerald in the light of the torches now hung in shreds, resembling broken vines of moss. The mirror had shattered, and now lay in reflective shards on the stone floor, which sparkled slightly from glittery mirror-powder. Ripped parchment confetti was spread around the room, and what used to be a desk chair now lay as wooden shards.

Coming into the room, Blaise and Draco looked back at the door, where black daggers of some sort had been embedded into the thick wood. They shivered.

"Merlin, Uchiha, what possessed you?" Blaise sounded like a concerned parent, and Sasuke stood straighter at the slight to his pride. He was not someone that needed to be watched over.

Sasuke glared but was quiet as Blaise began magically mending and cleaning his room. Draco fixed up the desk chair, deciding that would be his payment for entering without permission, and resolutely sat before the Asian.

"Was your day as bad as mine, then?" Draco met Sasuke's gaze without hesitation.

Sasuke's glare intensified, although now it was directed more at the wall than at Draco.

"I…dislike how much power your magic has over me." Sasuke's feet shifted slightly, as though he was uncomfortable admitting any form of weakness.

Draco rose a brow, interested. "Oh? And what, prey tell, has upset you so?"

"…Flowers." Sasuke's teeth flashed in a snarl that dissapeared as suddenly as it had appeared.

"Flowers?" Blaise had finished mending the bed curtains and now turned to Sasuke, his work complete. "You don't mean love flowers by any chance?"

"Hn." Sasuke nodded slightly, and Blaise wistled, impressed.

"Love flowers?" Draco blinked. "Those are really difficult to make. Whoever put you under their influence must have been dedicated."

"Yes, well, Sakura is one of the best students I know." Sasuke crossed his arms, scowling.

"Did she make you kiss her?" Blaise made a sympathetic face and Sasuke's scowl darkened.

"No. She made me kiss Naruto." And like it.

Draco did a double take. "Uzumaki? But…well…how did he take that?"

Sasuke flushed, remembering the slightly glazed look to Naruto's eyes. He bit his bottom lip. "…Fairly well."

The silence in the room was heavy.

"So," Draco said, clearing his throat. "What happened to those flowers?"

Sasuke frowned. "They're scattered on the field outside the greenhouses. Why?"

But Draco was already out the door.


Harry sat under the huge tree that looked off the lake, silently fuming.

Malfoy had had years.

YEARS!

All he had to do was say something kind.

Or at least refrain from being cruel.

That's all he had to do.

And Harry would have noticed him years ago.

Instead, Harry had only ever seen him as his constant rival, nothing but an interfering thorn in his side.

But now…Harry cursed allowed.

Now he saw Malfoy as a possibility, an option, and…

Yes, he was still an arse; completely spoiled, vain, and snotty. But he was also smart, and clever—and funny, too, if Harry really thought about it.

Maybe now that he was out of the pull-the-cute-girl's-hair phase, he would be decent to be around?

Harry shook his head. That was not the kind of thought he should have. Ever.

"Hey, Potter?"

Harry looked up and found that Malfoy was grinning at him. The unholy gleam that shone in his eyes almost made him want to run.

Almost. He was, after all, a Gryffindor.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" His voice was firm, and showed the anger that he still felt at Draco's actions.

The grin widened, if that was possible, and Malfoy took a perfume bottle out from behind his back.

"I want you to call me 'Draco,'" he said, and spritzed Harry with the perfume.

Harry instantly spluttered, trying hard to wipe the sickly sweet stuff from his face, and knocked his glasses off in the process. The stuff was this and sweet and...

"I didn't get it in your eyes, did I?" Draco shifted closer.

Harry's head snapped up in surprise at the note of concern in his rivals voice—and remembered an instant later why that made sense.

But Draco must have actually gotten some of it in his eyes, because everything behind Draco was blurred, but Draco himself was eerily clear.

Harry stared hard for a few moments more, but Draco's overall image did not change as he restlessly watched Harry's face.

Except...why had he never noticed how beautiful Draco was? Not until recently, at least. It was so obvious...

Yes, his angular features—pointed chin, sharp nose, and square jaw—were slightly jarring, but his thin, pink lips were almost girly in the way they lay on his face, and his eyes were a fair stone prettier than any he'd ever seen. The blond lashes were long, and his eyes were big, slightly tipped up at the end corners. They were the color of the edge of a cloud when the sun hits it…the purest of silver.

And his hair! Oh, his hair was the very embodiment of the clearest sunlight, just dusted with highlights of gold and accented perfectly by his snow-white complexion.

Harry licked his lips and reached out to touch the shining locks.

Draco's hair had to be the softest thing he had ever touched, softer than cotton, softer than silk, softer than a two-week-old puppy… He slid his fingers from the roots to the tips and, resting his hands at the nape of Draco's neck, he looked into the beautiful boy's face.

And Draco grinned.

Harry's eyes widened and his fingers clenched compulsively as Draco moved until they were only centimeters apart.

"See something you like, Harry?" Draco's words seemed to caress Harry's skin, and he shivered.

"Yes," Harry breathed, closing the short distance between them.


The first brush of their lips was perfect, better than anything Draco could have imagined.

Soon after came the panted breaths, sliding tongues, light bites, and then the vivacious groping.

Draco quite enjoyed the groping bit.

But something…something was wrong.

His hands were tangled in the thick, tousled black hair, and the softness of it definitely felt right.

Harry's hands snuck up his shirt, and the heat that caused unquestionably felt right.

They parted for a breath, their foreheads pressed together, and gazed into each others' eyes.

Harry's pupils were dilated.

And Draco suddenly realized what was wrong.

He pulled away with a sigh, ignoring Harry's disappointed sound, and stood. Draco pulled out his wand and inspected it, stalling for time.

It was a dark wood, he couldn't remember what kind, and long, thirteen inches. Unicorn hair in the core.

Draco contemplated how much it could actually help protect him from an angry Harry Potter.

And then he cast the spell to douse Harry in water.

Before Harry could even stop sputtering, Draco was halfway across the lawn, running as fast as his feet could carry him.

By the time Harry had sorted out what had happened, Draco was already safe inside the castle.


That night, Sasuke dreamed.

He dreamed of the mistreated grounds of the Uchiha clan.

He dreamed of fixing them, cleaning the houses of their bad pasts, repairing the damage his brother had caused.

He dreamed of sharing his creation.

And he dreamed of Naruto.

He dreamed of lightly calloused tan fingers stroking over his pale skin, of soft blond hair and sparkling blue eyes.

He dreamed of soft lips and hard muscles, of kissing and touching and heat.

He dreamed of his first kiss.

And he woke up lonely.