Things didn't improve as the weeks progressed. Harry settled into Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, improved drastically in Transfigurations (now that he was actually trying), and even his Potions scores improved. But, if anything, he was more distant. Even the maybe-or-maybe-not-accidental hand brushes stopped.
Draco had trouble focusing in class and tutoring sessions; he was a ball of energy wound so tight he felt ready to explode.
He sat in Transfigurations on a mild day in mid-October, jittering his leg nervously, biting the end of his quill ragged, and not thinking about their assignment at all. He ignored the teacup sitting abandoned on the top of his desk, even as his classmates' sprouted feathers or fur or tendrils and leaves, as their preferences dictated. He was entirely too busy pondering the painfully obvious fact that he wanted more from Harry than he'd dared imagine… and that Harry might not actually feel the same way.
A delicate cough and the pointed tapping of McGonagall's shoe eventually penetrated the haze of his anxiety, and he startled to attention, fumbling to catch the teacup that his elbow had sent skittering.
McGonagall stopped it with a flick of her wand, never taking her eyes from Draco's.
"Mister Malfoy," she said, peering sternly down at him over the top of her glasses, "what on Earth do you think you're doing?"
He gulped. "I - that is —"
She sighed, softening her tone. "See me after class, Mister Malfoy." She turned to walk away, shaking her head, then turned back. "And do attempt to transfigure your teacup."
Draco glared at the delicately patterned china as he listened to her heels click away, debating just how ugly he could make it in the time that was left to him. As he concentrated on it, letting everything else fall away but the teacup before him and the image of what he wanted it to become, his anger melted away. When he looked up, wiping a sheen of sweat off his brow - if he hadn't known better, he would have thought the teacup had been fighting the change, will all the willpower he'd had to throw behind the spell - the teacup had been replaced by a tiny model of one of the coaches that brought them to Hogwarts, complete with a tiny thestral. He reached out a shaky finger and absently petted it. It nuzzled its head up against his finger, obviously pleased with the attention.
The bell rang then, signaling the end of class.
"Leave your transfigured teacups on your desk, please," McGonagall called out over the sudden clamor of books being shoved into bags and desks siding across the stone floor. "Tomorrow we will be discussing your results as a class, and then reversing the spell. And, Mister Longbottom, a petrificus totalis, please, so that I don't have to chase that…thing around the room." She removed her glasses and massaged her temples with a put-upon sigh.
Draco didn't even bother to look over to see what monstrosity Longbottom had managed - he was suddenly too full of apprehension to see anything but the miniature thestral, and even then his vision was tinted red and shimmery about the edges. The thestral whinnied and butted up against his finger, distracting him. The red tint receded, and he shakily packed up his books.
"Draco," McGonagall said softly.
He looked up and saw that they were alone in the room. She only ever called him 'Draco' in private, and usually it gave him a warm glow of pride. Today it just made his stomach churn.
"Yes, Professor?" He tried to keep the tremor out of his voice, but suspected that he didn't really succeed. When he looked up, McGonagall was frowning.
"Draco," she said, more firmly, "I'm not going to punish you, if that's what you're worried about. Now, come here. And bring your teacup with you - I want to take a closer look at it."
He gulped, but gingerly maneuvered the coach and thestral into his palm and carried both to her desk, wordlessly handing them to her. For a long moment, she said nothing, studying the thestral intently. When she looked up again, her smile was warm.
"This is astonishing, Draco. I've never seen anyone attempt a thestral before, and your attention to detail is astounding." Her smile dimmed slightly. "You've spent a great deal of time with them this year, then, to have such an…accurate image of them to draw from."
He sighed. He'd hoped to keep that as his secret. "Yes, I - they're good company. Hagrid was thrilled to have help with them, and I find them… peaceful." He shrugged, then met her eye, afraid she would tell him to stop. "It doesn't interfere with my studies, I promise, and Hagrid said it was all right, and —"
"Relax, Draco. Contrary to what you seem to believe, I don't actually want to get you in trouble. You're a good student, probably the most promising Transfigurations student I've had the pleasure of teaching."
She paused, and he felt his shoulders relaxing and a pleasant warmth radiating out from his stomach at the praise.
"Now," she continued, "the reason I asked you to stay behind today is that I'm worried about you. Your grades have been slipping lately, in all your classes, and both Horace and Filius tell me that you've been increasingly distracted. Like you were just a few minutes ago. Is there something I should know about, Draco?"
She pursed her lips and frowned at him, waiting for an answer that he really didn't want to give. Couldn't give. It was true - he was distracted, and his grades were slipping. He just couldn't concentrate with Harry nearby any more. Not that he'd ever been able to, really - but now it was a thousand times worse. He bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Professor," he started meekly, eyes trained on the tiny thestral that still rested in her upturned palm. "I —"
"Draco," she interrupted, "I'm not interested in your apologies. What I am interested in, however, is your reason. I suspect that it's something to do with your recent tutoring sessions with Mister Potter, yes?"
Draco felt his cheeks flushing. "Er—"
"As I thought," she said briskly. "Now. You really ought to know this by now, but Mister Potter enjoys far too much notoriety in this school. I can't do anything about that, much as I'd like to - it's hardly good for the boy, but I can tell you that his marks have improved considerably since you agreed to tutor him."
Draco felt a warm glow of pride at that - Harry had improved, but it was nice to be acknowledged for his part in it - until McGonagall added tartly "do make sure, Draco, that Mister Potter is doing the work to deserve it."
Draco's eyes snapped up to meet hers, and he scowled. "I'll have you know that Harry is doing the work for it - he deserves those marks. Surely you don't think I'm doing the git's work for him? I have more standards than that, even if I was forced to take the Mark!"
He stopped, breathing heavily, when he noticed McGonagall's amused smile.
"Good," she said simply.
Draco frowned. "You knew."
She eyed him over her glasses. "While Mr. Potter's marks have shown significant improvement, they are still nowhere near your caliber, Draco. I just wanted to see if you knew it."
He looked down again, embarrassed and pleased. "Oh."
"Indeed. Now, if I may offer one final piece of advice?"
Draco nodded, biting his lip.
"Don't let him push you around, Draco. I don't know exactly what's going on between the two of you, but I've seen the way you look at one another lately. Stand up for yourself. Go after what you want with your head held high - you deserve happiness just as much as any of the rest of us, Mark or no Mark."
He blinked at her, astonished.
"Oh, go on with you," she said, amused. "I am human, you know. Despite what that idiotic Board thinks. Speaking of the Board, I've a meeting soon with one of their esteemed leaders, so if there's nothing else…"
Draco nodded, still feeling as if the ground was shaky beneath his feet, and shouldered his bag.
"Oh, and by the way," she called, as he was almost out the door.
He turned back resignedly. "Yes, Professor?"
"Tell Mister Potter, if you will, that there are more careers out there than Auror - some that he would no doubt be quite good at."
She winked and turned back to the tiny thestral in her palm, setting it gently on the surface of her desk. He heard her shuffling papers and muttering unflattering remarks about idiots who sit on Ministry Boards - to herself or the thestral, he wasn't sure - before he closed the door behind him.
Draco walked absentmindedly toward his room, pondering her words. He'd given Harry more than enough time to make an advance on him. He'd tried making his own advances, but - maybe he'd not been clear enough? He frowned, shaking his head. Well, whether Harry had misunderstood or changed his mind, Draco wasn't going to just wait around for him forever. There were others he suspected might have an interest in him, now that Harry's friendship had eased his way back into the social circle of the eighth years. Finch-Fletchly had been eying him rather blatantly the other night… not that he had much of an interest in the Hufflepuff, but then he didn't know him all that well. Maybe he should give it a shot. It might spur Harry into action, if he was still interested, and if it didn't… well. It might be distracting, anyway.
He nodded, feeling suddenly more confident. He'd give this thing with Harry one more shot, and if Harry refused him again…
A hand reached out of a dark alcove as he passed it absentmindedly and grabbed his arm, yanking him abruptly out of the deserted hallway.
Draco's wand was in his hand, digging into his assailant's throat before he could think, a curse waiting on the tip of his tongue.
Harry froze, then dropped his arm and raised both hands slowly over his head. Draco's arm trembled and his vision blurred.
"Um, Draco? Can you put that away, please?"
"What?" He blinked, then realized that his wand was still digging into Harry's throat. It looked painful. "Oh." He stowed his wand, cheeks heating, hoping it didn't show in the dim light. "Sorry. Reflex. I —"
Harry smiled, then winced as he rubbed his throat. "It's all right. I shouldn't have grabbed you. I forget, sometimes, that I'm not the only one with scars."
Draco's eyes snapped up to Harry's forehead, then traveled the length of him appreciatively. The adrenaline fizzing through his body lent him the courage to step forward, pressing Harry back against the wall. "Now that you've got me in here…"
Harry's breath hitched audibly and he gulped. Draco grinned. Two could play this game.
A group of students interrupted them, chattering loudly as they passed the alcove. They were probably on the way to lunch, Draco thought distantly. He and Harry would be missed, even if they weren't noticed…
He stepped back, instantly regretting the loss of Harry's warmth as the cool air rushed over him. "Not here." He stepped back into the light of the passageway, then paused and turned his head. "You know the hollow tree by the lake?"
"Yeah?" Harry's breath was still a bit ragged.
"Meet me there at lunch."
"Draco —"
He winked and slipped into the corridor.
Draco settled more comfortably against the tree, shifting to dislodge the stick digging into his left shoulder, and sighed. He hadn't planned on bringing Luna along on what was supposed to be a romantic rendezvous, but she'd appeared beside him as he left the kitchens with his hastily-prepared picnic lunch and skipped along next to him as he'd walked outside, blithely ignoring all his attempts to politely tell her to go away. He resigned himself to a lunch full of inane chatter and barely-concealed sexual tension. He'd just have to corner Harry later. Maybe he could grab him on the way to dinner…
"Draco?"
"Hmmm? Sorry, what?"
Luna poked his nose again, eyes crinkling in mirth. "Distracted, are you? Don't worry - Harry will be here soon."
He spluttered. "I - what - no—"
She ignored him. "That's why I came out here with you, you know."
"You decided to play chaperone?" He raised an incredulous eyebrow. "I'm flattered, truly, but you do know that I'm older than you, right?"
She giggled. "No, silly. I wanted to ask you two to go with me to Hogsmead this weekend. Well, with us, I suppose. Ginny and I."
"What, like a double date?"
"Exactly like." She nibbled at her sandwich, looking decidedly pleased with herself. "It'll be fun."
Draco wasn't so sure. "Luna…" he said slowly, "are you… are you sure Ginny wants you for you? She's not just using you to get to Harry?" He couldn't get the image of Harry and Ginny, curled up and laughing together in one of the big chairs by the fire in the common room, out of his head.
Luna smiled, showing rather too many teeth. "I'm sure. Do you remember what happened to the last girl who tried to use me to get to Harry?"
He frowned. "Er, no?"
"Exactly." She smiled beatifically and went back to braiding the daisy chain she'd abandoned in favor of the sandwich.
Draco stared, flummoxed. She seemed to be implying… his brain skittered away from the thought. Luna hadn't had a girlfriend before. Had she? He hadn't really known her very well before the Death Eaters had locked her in his parents' wine cellar, but…
He started as a shadow fell over him, and Harry plopped down to lounge on the grass beside them. "Don't question it," he advised, smiling at Luna. "Whatever it is. I find that's best, where Luna's concerned."
"Why, thank you, Harry," she said, not looking up from the intricate braid she was weaving. "That's very sweet of you. And very wise."
Ginny dropped down between them, sprawling happily on the grass and wiggling her bare toes. "Oh, that feels nice. What did I miss?"
"Nothing much," Luna said cheerfully. "Just that Draco is worried that you're just using me to get to Harry."
"Is that all?" Ginny grinned. "Don't worry Draco - you're safe from me, I assure you. No offense, Harry, but you were a shit boyfriend."
He waved it away easily. "None taken. I kind of was."
They smiled at one another, and then Ginny looked around to make sure they were alone before leaning over to peck Luna on the lips. "Hey, can you boys cover for us, if anyone comes looking for us?" she asked, gripping Luna's hands and tugging her to her feet.
Harry laughed. "Go on with you - if anybody asks, we'll make something up."
Draco found his voice in time to add "we never saw you."
Luna bent down to snag the flower crown and set it gently on Ginny's brow. She turned to grin over her shoulder at them as she and Ginny skipped off, hand in hand, toward the Forbidden Forest. "Thanks boys! We'll see you on Saturday!"
"Saturday?" Harry asked, eyes still on the girls.
"Oh," Draco laughed, embarrassed. "They, er, want us to go with them to Hogsmead on Saturday. A double-date kind of thing."
"Hmm," Harry said absently. "That might be nice." He turned to Draco as soon as the girls were out of sight. "Fucking finally. So, where were we…"
Draco leaned in to kiss him, but just as their lips touched, the chiming of the bell echoed across the grounds. Harry pulled back, swearing, which made Draco laugh, even though he was just as frustrated.
"Can't we skip class?" Harry whined, as Draco started to pack up the remainder of the picnic.
Draco scowled at him. "You can skip if you like. I can't afford to." Then he frowned. "What about them?" He waved in the direction the girls had disappeared.
Harry sighed. "Pretty sure they've got this period free. Anyway, I wouldn't put it past either of them to skip class. Come on, then." He levered himself to his feet, holding out a hand to Draco.
Draco bit his lip as he allowed Harry to draw him up. "We'll continue this later, though, yeah?"
Harry grinned at him. "Oh, yes. You can be sure of that."
