A/N: I have no excuse. I have this chapter and another written, so I'll put them up now. But there's still a chapter or two left of this fic that aren't written, so it's still not finished. Sorry, darlings.

-oOoOo-

Chapter Eight:

Clear as Mud

The glass was delivered on Friday morning by a Muggle lorry. A couple of squibs, Draco suspected, unloaded the paper wrapped packages by hand onto the grass by the front door. There were nearly a hundred neat stacks of labeled packages: beveled, etched, and simple blown glass that had pretty little bubbles that sparkled in the morning light.

Draco hoped someone had written down which type went where, because he had no idea.

He oversaw the unloading, and carefully counted to ensure the company hadn't 'forgotten' to deliver it all, and snapped at the squibs when it looked like they weren't being careful enough.

When they'd gone, sending Draco rude gestures as they drove away in their silly Muggle vehicle, Draco smiled. It was going to be fun day.

"All right, you lazy bastards," he said, greeting his classmates who were sitting down to breakfast. "Today we're all working on the same project. The glass for the windows has just been delivered. Between the lot of us, I think we can have the job done in two days. Are you with me?"

There were mutters of dissension. Draco growled inwardly. "Right. We're going to need brooms."

"We get to fly?" said Potter, finally showing a bit of excitement.

"Some of us will. Those who are most comfortable on a broom, I suppose. Everyone else start brushing up on your levitation charms, you're going to be using them a lot today. Everyone pair up, a flyer with someone willing to stay on the ground."

Draco paired with Pansy, and soon enough they were all outside.

Draco selected a window close to the ground to demonstrate on. He had Pansy levitate the glass in the air, near to the window, and Draco guided it to its fittings. The company had sent along an ample amount of Super Sealing Sealant in bright yellow tubes, and Draco squeezed this along the edge, and finished it off with a scraper that made a nice beveled edge.

"Does everyone understand?"

Everyone nodded. This was a terribly easy job. The only tricky part for some would be keeping the pane of glass they were levitating steady. Luckily the panes were all fairly small—there were just an awful lot of them.

It was a gorgeous day for this kind of work. Draco and Pansy began working on a window on the second floor, and Pansy conjured herself a beach umbrella and beach chair to lounge on as she floated the panes of glass up to Draco.

By lunchtime they had repaired four windows, and Draco had replaced sixty-four panes of glass. Draco's arms ached from holding the glass in place, and his thighs ached from the effort of flying sedately for an entire morning. Pansy looked fresh as a daisy when he descended.

"Darling, you look a little sunburned," she said, peering at him over large sunglasses and sipping a glass of lemonade. "You should have put on a skin protection charm."

"Bitch," he said with little rancor. "Where did you get the lemonade, and why didn't you get me any?"

An elf appeared at his side holding a gleaming silver tray with a glass of lemonade. Draco took it was a small nod, and the elf vanished. He kicked Pansy's legs aside and sat at the foot of her beach chair. She crossed her ankles over his knee. She was barefoot.

"You are such a lazy bitch," he said.

She smiled. "You love me."

He did. She was just as free with her affection as she was with her caustic bitchiness. Draco liked the duality. She was his best friend.

He sipped his lemonade and looked around to see how the others were doing. His gaze, naturally, fixed on Harry Potter who was flying while Parvati Patil levitated glass up to him. Potter was looking very yummy today wearing a gray t-shirt just a shade too tight, and Muggle jeans that fit just right.

Draco looked his fill, uncaring of Pansy's smug I-knew-it smirk.

"It's true then," she said. "You've got it bad for Potter."

"Yes," he said simply.

She let out a happy sounding sigh, and settled back into her chair. "This is a good summer," she said. "I was dubious at first, but it's a good summer."

Draco smiled slightly, and watched Harry Potter neatly caulk another windowpane.

-oOoOo-

Harry didn't know what the hell Draco Malfoy's problem was. After Blaise had left him still hard and wanting in his dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, Harry had thought and brooded and stewed and come to the conclusion that he'd been right all along and Draco Malfoy was a bastard. Where did Malfoy get off, telling Harry that maybe he ought to experiment with Blaise, and then warning Blaise off? What kind of sense did that make to a normal person? Malfoy had said that his relationship (if that's what it was) with Blaise was over and done with, never to resume.

Harry could only deduce that the blond had been lying through his teeth and still had feelings for Blaise. Harry didn't know why Slytherins just couldn't be a little honest once in a while, and give dense Gryffindors like himself a break. It wasn't as though he didn't have enough to confuse him at the moment.

So Harry fitted glass into windowpanes, and caulked them perfectly, and still he brooded.

He wondered what he ought to say to Draco. Last night he fancied that a nice sock to the jaw might get his point across, but today that seemed a little harsh.

Harry didn't like being toyed with. He didn't like that Malfoy had put Harry right in the middle of whatever game he was playing with Blaise. He didn't like that Blaise hadn't finished what he'd started last night. He was tense and a little angry, and not even flying was helping.

The worst thing about Malfoy's weird behavior and possible betrayal was that Harry had been starting to like him. Genuinely like him for the sarcastic exhibitionist that he was. Malfoy was entertaining, and smart, and Harry had just liked spending time with him. But now he felt like a friend had stabbed him in the back, or something to that effect, and he wanted to go back to hexing Malfoy just a little bit before he pinned the other boy down to ask him what the hell his problem was.

Harry wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, and waved Parvati off when she gestured towards their stack of glass. It had to be nearly lunchtime. The sun was hot and high in the sky.

Far below, Pansy and Draco were sitting beneath a large white umbrella, looking quite at ease with each other. Harry wondered about them for a moment. He'd always assumed that Pansy and Draco were boyfriend and girlfriend, just from the way Pansy was constantly touching him, but then he'd learned about Blaise, and… Perhaps. Harry didn't know, but they were very familiar with each other.

Thinking about it made his stomach feel hollow. He didn't know why.

Some of the girls had decided that lunch would be served picnic style by the lake, and encouraged the house-elves to bring out blankets with the platters of food and cold beverages for everyone to lounge on.

Everyone tried to crowd into the shade left by the few trees by the lake, and when there wasn't enough space for everyone, Pansy conjured up more of her white umbrellas.

Harry joined Ron and Hermione who were sitting in a depression that looked like a giant's footprint.

"How was your morning?" asked Harry.

"I hurt everywhere," Ron complained, while Hermione chirped that it was just fine.

The three sat in the hallow, shoulder to shoulder to shoulder, with Hermione planted in the middle. Harry dropped his head back to lean on the higher ground.

"I feel like a nap," he said.

"Harry?" said Ron. "I've been meaning to ask you, and Ginny won't talk about it, but what happened?"

Harry tensed. He wanted to have this conversation about as much as he wanted Voldemort to come back. "We just decided it wouldn't work out," he said.

Hermione, next to him, sighed, but didn't say anything.

"Oh," said Ron. "But why not? I mean, it was obvious you missed her."

"Yeah, I did, but… I guess we're just too different now for it to work."

Ron didn't have anything to say about that. Hermione between them took their hands in hers, lacing her fingers with Ron's. She dropped her head onto Ron's shoulder contentedly. The sun sparkled prettily on the lake, and the grass was a pure deep green. A couple birds twittered nearby.

"It's a nice day, isn't it?" she said.

-oOoOo-

Luna twisted her long blonde hair behind her head to act as a pillow, and laid back on a flat rock near the lakeshore. Her fingers clasped over her stomach and she looked up at the clouds. She thought she could see a rabbit, a cauldron, maybe a dragon, and a top hat if she squinted at them just right.

She had been working with Ginny on the windows, and truthfully her levitation charms had grown rather listless. The repetitive motions had allowed her mind to drift, and for some reason all she'd been able to think about was being imprisoned in the Malfoy's cellar with poor Mr. Ollivander, and being worried that he would die. He'd been so sickly when she arrived, and his condition seemed to worsen with each passing day. She hoped he was doing well now. She wondered if his shop was busy, and if he was making any new wands.

Luna's new wand was made of hazel with a Fwooper feather core. Mr. Ollivander said it was one of the most unique wands he had ever made. It worked better for her than her old wand ever had. Luna thought she might send Mr. Ollivander a letter to let him know.

"May I sit with you?"

Luna shielded her eyes, and squinted at the dark shape at her side. It was Theo Nott.

"Of course," she said, and scooted over a bit to give him room. He laid down on the rock too; putting an arm behind his head because he didn't have long enough hair to made a makeshift pillow.

They were quiet for a while, but then Theo raised his arm and pointed. "That one looks like a niffler," he said.

Luna smiled. "Or perhaps a crup."

Theo hummed.

Luna thought maybe she had already forgiven him.

-oOoOo-

Blaise was still miffed about his aborted summer romance with Hero, and even smarting a little from what had not happened last night in Gryffindor Tower. He didn't think Harry had spoken with Draco about any of it yet, as Draco wasn't trying to wring Blaise's neck or even looking at him like he wanted to.

But still, Blaise was miffed, and he intended to proceed with his summer romance plans—even if they no longer included Harry Potter.

But first, he needed to gather some information, because while it had been worth it to spend some time seducing Potter, he felt as though he had no more time to waste. He was horny, and hadn't had sex in many months, and that problem needed to be rectified immediately.

"Thomas, may I have a word?"

The Gryffindor was sitting with Ginny Weasley and the current object of Blaise's fantasies, and followed Blaise away with a perplexed look on his face.

"What's this about, Zabini?"

"I don't think you'll be having any trouble now from Potter, thanks to my efforts," he began. Thomas started to grin.

"That really worked?" he said.

"Of course it did." Blaise was irresistible. He thought everyone knew that. "But I've been ordered to lay off Boy Wonder for now."

"Ordered? By who?"

Blaise shook his head. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is that I am in desperate need of some sexual relief, and I was hoping you could answer a question for me."

"I don't swing that way, mate."

"Not you, you ignoramus. I'm talking about your friend Finnigan. Does he swing my way?"

Thomas blinked. "Uh, he's been known to. Finch-Fletchley, you know."

The Muggleborn Hufflepuff? Blaise found Justin's curly blond head by the lake with some of his Housemates. He hadn't had any idea. Interesting. "Are they still..." he asked leadingly.

Thomas shrugged. "I don't know. Not so far as I know. They fooled around a few times sixth year, but I don't think it's started up again."

Blaise nodded. This was good news. "Thanks, Thomas. You've been a great help."

"Sure. Thanks for, uh, you know, with Potter."

Blaise smiled. "Oh, believe me, it was my pleasure."

-oOoOo-

In the afternoon it seemed Draco decided his time would be better spent supervising the other's work. Harry suspected this was because Draco was bored, and wanted an excuse to fly around the castle rather than stay basically stationary like everyone else. The blond made lazy loops and turns, and barked out orders whenever he deemed appropriate or he felt he wasn't getting enough attention.

From what Harry could tell, Pansy was filing her nails under her bright beach umbrella, and didn't seem to mind her friend's slacking off—because that's all it was, and everyone knew it. This was especially galling, because Malfoy was such a slave driver with everyone else. Only the Hufflepuffs didn't seem to mind.

Draco snapped at Ron not to leave smudgy fingerprints all over the windows, for Merlin's sake, and Harry rolled his eyes.

He told Luna to watch it with her levitation charms, and that it might help if she was actually looking at the object she was levitating and not staring at Theo's bum. Luna blinked owlishly, and Harry scowled.

Draco told Dean that he was using the caulk scraper all wrong, and asked why the other boy hadn't been paying attention earlier, and why on earth hadn't he caught on before now, and if Draco had to go back and reset all of Dean's windows he was going to be upset. Harry clenched his jaw, and flew down to sit with Pansy.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" he said.

Pansy looked up from where she was now painting her nails a bright pink. "Hmm? Oh, Draco? He's bored."

"He's nagging everyone. Like a fishwife."

She snickered. "Dare you to tell him that."

An elf appeared by Pansy's chair with two glasses of lemonade. "Would sir and miss like some refreshment?"

"Thank you, Sunckers," chimed Pansy, taking a glass. Harry did the same. "Don't mind Draco, Potter. He's a bit of a perfectionist. Nothing is ever really good enough for him. It's best to just humor him when he gets like this."

"This happens often?"

"Apparently he's at his worst at Quidditch practice, but that's probably your fault. He can be a real arse about his Transfiguration projects too."

From high above Draco barked, "Potter! What are you doing? Get your lazy arse back to work."

Pansy chuckled. "Best to do as the blond harpy says, Potter."

Harry drained his glass of lemonade and flew as slow as he possibly could upwards. Pansy's words rang in his head for some reason. 'Nothing is ever really good enough for him. It's best to humor him…' And Harry started to wonder.

-oOoOo-

Everyone enjoyed the picnic lunch by the lake, and decided to do the same at dinnertime and they simply never went back inside. When the sun started to go down and it grew cool the house-elves came out with cocoa and marshmallows, and made a bonfire for the students on the rocky shore of the lake.

They roasted the marshmallows, and drank the cocoa and Susan Bones wanted to play Truth or Dare, so they did.

When stars began to prick the sky, Draco stood up and brushed off the seat of his pants. "I'm going to go check on the water pumps."

The others waved him off with relative good humor, because Susan had gotten Draco to admit that he has a short attention span, and his arse hurt from sitting still on his broom for the whole morning, and that was why he'd been so snarly in the afternoon.

He'd gotten her back, making her kiss MacMillian, and left before his friends could get any bright ideas about making him kiss a certain green eyed hero.

Draco strolled up the lawn with his hands in his pockets, humming a Weird Sisters song under his breath.

The thing with Potter was that nothing was going to happen. There was no way Harry Potter would ever have anything to do with a former Death Eater, no matter how popular Draco currently was with the public. Then there was their history. A truce and maybe friendship was possible, but a relationship, Draco felt was out of the question. He was shocked that he had gotten to this point. Harry Potter would never reciprocate Draco's crush.

He should have let Blaise have his fun.

By the end of the summer, Draco and Harry would be going off in separate directions anyway. Draco would hopefully be going back to Hogwarts to study for NEWT's, and Potter would… well, Draco didn't know what Potter would do. Probably join the Auror training program. NEWT's or not, the Ministry would be fools to deny the Boy Who Lived Twice entrance. And then they'd likely not see much of each other again. The wizarding world was a small place, so they may run into each other occasionally in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, but really, Draco thought, he was unlikely to see much of Potter after this project was over.

He bowed his head, and his steps turned to trudges. Time and distance, he hoped, would put an end to this unrequited crush.

The water pumps were working steadily, and the water level had dropped another four feet since the last time he'd checked. He debated for a moment on whether he should check the hoses for obstructions, and the charms on the window in the common room, but he didn't really feel like getting wet.

"Hey."

Draco started and turned. Harry was standing not ten feet away, looking pale in the dim torchlight. "Hey," he returned.

"I need to talk to you about something."

"All right," Draco said warily.

"Blaise told me that whatever was going on with us is over."

Draco wondered where he was going with this, and if he should pull out his wand. "Oh. That's too bad?"

A muscle ticked in Harry's jaw. "He said you told him to back off."

Draco felt as though he'd been doused with ice water. He didn't know what to say, and couldn't believe Blaise had told Potter that it had been Draco, when it was Blaise all along… Blaise's brilliant idea, Blaise's idea of being a good friend… Draco would deal with him later. But right now he had an irritated and curious Harry Potter on his hands, which he didn't know how to deal with without—

"So I did," he said coolly.

"Why?" Harry demanded. "You were the one who said I should 'experiment' with Blaise. You were encouraging me!"

Draco lip curled, remembering that disastrous suggestion. He shrugged. "What of it?"

"Why would you say that and then tell Blaise to back off? Am I not good enough to even be your friend's summer fling?" he spat.

Draco could have dropped to his knees in thanks for Potter sending him this gift, this miraculous escape from the terrible truth. He drew up his coldest expression, and arched an eyebrow. "Obviously, Potter, that's the case."

Harry looked stung. "So I'm good enough to be your friend, but not good enough for Blaise to touch me? Afraid I'll contaminate him with my dirty half and half blood?"

Draco decided instantly that this imaginary objection had nothing to do with blood. "Of course it has nothing to do with blood! Were you planning on mating with Blaise? Last I checked Potter, you were both men and that is not possible, so leave off on the blood thing."

"Then what is it?"

"It's to do with you! Your—your personality!"

"My personality?"

"Yes, your holier than thou attitude, and your belief that the whole damn world owes you something now. Well, you don't get to up and decide that the world owes you Blaise."

Harry shook his head. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you, Hero. I've always seen you for what you are, even if no one else could, and you are nothing special."

"I've never acted that way! You're the one who was always strutting around the place like your pure blood and your father made you some kind of wizarding royalty!"

"Don't talk about my father!"

"I'll talk about him all I want!"

"Because it's your right, isn't it? As the vanquisher of evil it's up to Harry Potter to point out all that he perceives as wrong and evil and dark."

"That's not what I—"

"Just because you defeat one Dark Lord with a fucking disarming spell doesn't make you special, or good, or a hero—It just makes you lucky!"

"But bowing and scraping to the same gives you some right to tell me how wrong I am?" Harry spat.

That one hurt. Draco stepped up to Harry, opened his mouth and nothing came out. He swallowed. Harry winced and looked away, like he couldn't believe he'd said such a thing.

"You don't know," said Draco. "You don't know what it was like."

"Yes I do," he said.

"No—"

"This scar?" he said, pointing to it, "Gave me a connection to his mind. Sometimes I could see what he was thinking, what he was doing. Sometimes you were there. So yeah, I know what he made you do."

Draco spun away flinching and cursing under his breath.

"Draco, I'm—" He reached out to touch Draco's shoulder.

"Don't touch me."

"Draco, please, I didn't want to fight. I like that we're getting along and that we're friends now—"

"I don't want to be your friend!" Draco yelled, whirling around, grabbing Harry's shoulders, and shoving him into a wall. Harry's breath whooshed out, and smelled of marshmallows and chocolate. Draco eyes strayed to the other boy's lips for one tiny moment, and pushed himself away. "Leave me alone, Potter."

-oOoOo-

Harry watched Draco as he left, feeling strangely empty and cold, and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chin. He buried his head in his folded arms and wondered why he wanted to cry.

He'd fought with Malfoy before. Hundreds of times. And often the outcome was much worse than this. Neither of them had been cursed or nearly sliced in half, though Harry felt like he had been. He hadn't expected to see a reappearance of the old Malfoy this evening, and the blond had been able to cut him to the quick. He didn't think of himself as special, he never had. He'd thought of himself as a freak many times, but freak didn't mean the same thing as special. Malfoy's good opinion had never mattered to him, but now it seemed that it did. He wondered when that had changed.

Harry slept in Gryffindor Tower again that night, and dreamed of slate gray eyes, and pale hands, and strong fingers, and whispered apologies.

-oOoOo-