AN: I know it was a while since the last update, sorry :/ The chapter was so long that I just couldn't find the motivation to continue working on it xD I hope I can keep going with the rest of the chapters soon. At least I promise I'll try harder. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter dispite the long wait. Also, I haven't asked anyone to help me with the translation this time, so if you find mistakes I apologize in advanced.
Chapter 12: Silent Progress.
Finding out last night what Pansy was up to had given Theo such an adrenaline rush that his heart was still pounding as if he had just exerted enormous physical effort. She and Potter… he would never have seen it coming. But he was aware that he could use that information against the girl. He could do it and he would, even though he knew it wouldn't be easy for him. Pansy was not the least bit stupid, he could tell that... that's why he had spent most of the night thinking about how to play it without her noticing, but had finally come to the conclusion that he couldn't do it alone. It was a shame that Draco wasn't there, he was the only person in their common room that he trusted enough to tell him what he had discovered... although he well knew that too many snakes conspiring among them never brought anything good. No, his other housemates weren't to be trusted, but there was someone...
He turned the corner and continued walking through the dungeons. It was early, so he was hearing nothing but the sound of his own soccer shoes on the stone floor. He was going to turn to the only person in the castle who could help him right now, and even though he wasn't so sure he would agree to it, he had to try. At least drop it to shock him enough to dare to take action. He stood in front of the door and tapped it with conviction.
"Come in," said a voice from within.
Theo went into Snape's office, nodding in greeting. The man narrowed his black eyes a little when he saw him in that way. It was clear that he completely disapproved of Dumbledore's stupid initiative against Muggle discrimination, but he obviously couldn't say his humble opinion out loud in front of a student.
"What are you doing here, Mr. Nott?" He asked with somewhat insolent boredom. "I no longer resolve doubts, remember? The classes ended. And I don't remember having punished you to handwrite something a thousand times... or do I?"
The boy looked at the pile of scrolls on the table. The man took it and ran his thumb over the side. Apparently some other student wouldn't easily forget the teacher's lessons.
"No," he said as Snape put the scrolls back in a desk drawer. "And I do not come to solve doubts. I'm here for another reason. I have evidence that a Slytherin student is doing something… inappropriate."
Snape sat up straight in his chair and looked him straight in the eye without saying a word. By the intensity with which he did it, he gave the feeling that this man could see inside him if he proposed it. After a few uncomfortable seconds in silence and without having blinked once, the man tilted his head slightly, suddenly interested in whatever he had to say to him.
"I hear you."
Theo was tempted to take a seat before telling him what he had seen, but after thinking it over he decided that by standing he felt more confident. He didn't hesitate when he began to speak.
"It's about Pansy Parkinson. She's been behaving pretty out of place lately."
"What do you mean exactly?" The man wanted to know, speaking loud and clear.
"Let's just say… she leaves the common room at nights."
Snape seemed to nod his head a little, although the gesture was almost imperceptible.
"Students are not allowed to roam the corridors at indecent hours."
"But that's not the worst. She's sneaking out to meet someone," the boy added, feeling his gaze return to his pupils and urging him to continue. Blood began to gush through his body. "With Potter."
Suddenly, the man rose from the seat abruptly, his dark robes flapping as he circled the desk.
"Do you have proof?" He asked urgently. It was not as if he didn't believe him, rather it seemed as if he needed them to give him the just veracity that third parties would demand before such an accusation.
"No, I found out following her one night," he said urgently. "Their meeting point is the Room of Requirement, I myself saw how the door vanished after they both entered."
"You know it would be your word against hers," he growled, adding later in a lower tone of voice, "It's a shame it's forbidden to use Veritaserum with students, that would make everything a little easier... but maybe we can hit Miss Parkinson a little corrective to make her desist from her nefarious behaviour."
Theo let out a lopsided smile. Did that mean that Snape was willing to help him?
"A corrective?" He asked innocently.
The man retraced his steps and sat back in his chair, this time with a visibly more relaxed expression. When he opened his mouth to answer, he did it calmly and serenely.
"That's right," he said. "I think Mr. Malfoy's family should know what his son's fiancée is doing behind their backs. I know the kindness and sympathy of Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy, I'm sure she will know how to forgive the girl after all."
Theo was silent for a moment, carefully processing the words the professor had just told him in confidence.
"How will you make Draco's mother find out what she's doing? It is my word against hers, you have said it yourself."
"I know perfectly well what I said," he said sarcastically. "But don't be impatient, Mr. Nott. Sometimes words are said in vain, and we don't want that to happen, do we?"
"Excuse me sir, but I don't understand where you're going."
"Your friend's mother doesn't need you to tell her what Miss Parkinson's doing, what she really needs is for you to show her."
The boy was spinning the information in his head little by little, but surely.
"This Friday the parents will visit the castle," he said at last, understanding the meaning of his words.
"Exactly." A small sound outside the office brought them both out of their musings. It didn't take the professor a second to wave his wand to make the door swing wide, slamming it on the wall. They both looked down the hall, completely clear. After frowning a bit and taking his time to breathe deeply, Snape turned to address the boy.
"Go now. And don't say a word of this to anyone."
Harry listened intently to his friend as they made their way to Professor Flitwick's office. Ron had apparently discovered a fascinating new world with photography, an activity he had ended up signing up for on the recommendation of Madam Pomfrey. He didn't have much to say that morning (or at least nothing he wanted to tell Ronald) so he gladly let him talk the whole way.
"I swear Harry, that device is most interesting. My father had one of those cameras in the attic, but I never paid much attention to it… You may think it's easy, but you have to regulate a thousand things so that the photo comes out perfect. I know that magic cameras do all that alone, you know, take into account the light, the contrast, the sharpness... but doing it manually is amazing. Yesterday I took my first perfect photograph, I immortalized a bird that was passing by at the moment I was looking through the viewfinder, it is a pity that Muggle photos don't come out in motion. The monitor has said that she will reveal the best of each one and will give it to us when the week ends.
"I'm glad you're liking it," Harry replied. "Although I think you would have ended up becoming a football fan."
"And have to put on that "uniform"? Don't even dream of it, man. Have you seen the way you look? And what are those shoes?"
The two of them joked a bit more until they reached Professor Flitwick's office. Harry didn't have to knock because the door was open, with a couple of students inside who had also come to deliver their works.
"Great ladies, leave your scrolls over here," the man said. "This will add points to your final grade, so well done… Oh, Mr. Potter, come in, go ahead. Do you also come to deliver the work? Marvelous. Have you seen Miss Granger? She still hasn't come to leave me hers."
"She's camping, sir," the boy replied, handing him the scrolls.
"Well, I trust she will deliver it when she gets back. You know, she's a very diligent student." He laughed nervously as the girls who had been there previously left and a new one walked through the door. "Miss Parkinson? Wow, I wasn't expecting you around here. In the end, did you dare to raise your grade?"
Harry turned to see her enter. She didn't say a word until she reached him, put her work down on the desk and bit her lip with a frown. Then she looked up and gave him a sidelong glance before retracing her steps and out into the hall."
"Err... Mr. Weasley, aren't you delivering anything?" The man asked, ignoring the strange behaviour the Slytherin had just had.
"No sir."
"Then you can go now, go before you run out of breakfast."
The boys obeyed and left the office. Outside, Parkinson kept spinning. She seemed indecisive, as if she wanted to go fast but had to do something first. When their gazes met, the girl approached them with a light step.
"Can we talk?" Her eyes had locked onto Harry in a way that implied that he had no choice but to accept. When he nodded, she quickly shook her head to address the redhead. "Alone."
Ron looked at his friend with a big question mark on his face. Pansy Parkinson talking to both of them was weird enough, but what was crazy was to think that she might have something to tell Harry that she needed intimacy. After Harry gestured at him, the boy took a couple of steps back before turning completely and walking far enough not to hear whatever she was going to say. Harry scrutinized her closely as she watched his friend lean bored against the wall, making sure they were indeed alone. Then she checked that the other side of the hall was clear and moved a little closer to him so she could speak in a low voice, peeling a fine lock of hair from her tail and sliding down the side of her face.
"Don't ask me how, but we've been found out. We can't meet in the Room of Requirement anymore."
"But how…?"
"I said don't ask," she interrupted. Harry pursed his lips a little and she met his gaze. The girl's harshness and anger began to dissipate as the seconds ticked by. Finally, he saw her close her eyes for a moment and take a breath before speaking. "Do you want to keep doing this?"
"I don't want to… cause you trouble," Harry found himself saying that in a softer voice than normal. His words seemed, in one way or another, to caress her skin. The hair on her arms stood up so much that she had to sneakily rub them with both hands.
"We don't have to be in trouble, we just have to be more careful."
Harry swallowed involuntarily. When had that moment become something that felt so… personal? And why did he feel the strange need to take that lock of hair and tuck it behind her ear?
"Do you have any idea?" He murmured, forcing himself to shake off those thoughts. She thought about something for endless seconds.
"We can't keep seeing each other at dawn. We could take advantage of part of the dinner schedule, that is, not waste time staying until dessert. That will make us not attract so much attention. And we need another place to go, one away from that room."
"There's some kind of secret hallway on the seventh floor," Harry said.
"It's too risky. Snape will probably ask Filch to hang around that whole area at night."
"What's Snape got to do with all this?" He wanted to know, confused. Parkinson put a hand to her face, realizing that she had talked too much.
"Look, it's important that you avoid Snape for the remainder of the week, okay? And above all don't look him in the eye."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"But you don't have to know anything else. Can you just do what I say?" He didn't answer, so Pansy kept talking. "I'll explain it to you when the time comes."
Harry rolled his eyes even though an idea was already hovering in his head.
"What about the abandoned classroom on the third floor?"
She widened her eyes before tucking that lock behind her ear. He had found the key.
"Good idea! It's the ideal place," she said. Then she nodded and started to walk away from him. "See you in training."
Ron followed her with his gaze as she passed in front of him, while Harry took the opportunity to catch up with him.
"What did she want?"
"What?"
"What did she want," he repeated. "You have been talking for a long time."
"Oh, yeah… Well, she wanted to talk about one thing about work, we practically did it together, remember?"
"And for that she needed to talk to you alone? Also, what's the point of telling you now that you've already delivered it?"
His friend sighed.
"Few things make sense lately."
Apparently that answer was enough for Ron, who shrugged and continued walking beside him.
When Draco woke up, he wasn't surprised to find a hand tucked into his pyjama bottoms. Still a little sleepy, he continued to clutch his private parts as he replayed in his mind over and over the torrid dream he had just had. He remembered it in great detail, it was as if it had just happened in reality. He held her legs apart with his hands and savoured her body with his tongue. First her neck, then her breasts, her hips and the forbidden zone. And he did it knowing that she liked him as much as he did. That transparent flow that mixed with his saliva drenched the entire intimacy of the girl and part of her thighs, he looked at her with a lopsided smile as she clung to the silk sheets so as not to scream with pleasure. He remembered the burning sensation of sinking his fingers into her clitoris, and then sliding his hand across her lower lips to fill his palm with that exciting liquid. Permeating his own sex with it made the desire to penetrate her increase even more, but just as he leaned over her and felt her hard nipples against his chest, he woke up.
He knew he must be repulsed by all this, but his more than obvious morning erection didn't say the same. God, he needed to alleviate that tremendous heat. He pulled his hand out of his pants, spat on it, and pushed it back, this time inside his underwear. Touching himself was pleasant, but not as pleasant as it had been in that damn dream. Not wanting to resist any longer, he let his mind drift back to the memories of the night before. Her wet back, her naked and the water running down her body... His erection stirred a little at the memory of her butt. He bit his lip and fantasized about the idea of touching it, pinching it, making her bend over and opening both cheeks so that her sex could better enter that cavity. He licked his lips as he imagined how wet she must be inside, wet and warm at the same time.
He sat up a bit to put his free hand inside the backpack. He needed to find that stupid packet of tissues that Paul had claimed to have packed in everyone's backpack, he was so excited it was going to end sooner than expected. He waved the handkerchief in the air as best as he could to open it, then brought it to his dick just in time. The semen shot out, permeating all the paper and part of his hands. He kept raising and lowering his hand as he finished emptying. He threw his head back and stood there, concentrating on the movement of his chest while his heart was still pounding from the adrenaline rush. When Draco came to, he had a few minutes to reflect before noise began to be heard outside. What was happening to him? Suddenly he found himself fantasizing about fucking Granger, dreaming of dropping her onto his bed of expensive sheets and possessing her all the time. Once, and again, and another time. Why on earth had he seen her last night while she was trying to clean herself in the trees? Since when did he have to find himself struggling to remind himself over and over that wanting her wasn't right? He wondered if it all started when he saw her try on those lingerie in the Hogsmeade store, although deep down he knew it was just a poor attempt to forget reality. He hated having to admit that he was aware that this whole obsession had started a long time ago. Why the hell didn't he stop it when he was on time? That way he might not have experienced that sick jealousy when he saw her with his friend, he might even have cared exactly the same to find out. Damn it, now he couldn't find a way to stop this.
Paul yelled something to the twins and he sat up as far as he could to start dressing in there. He cleaned himself well and wrapped that handkerchief in yet another before tossing it into his backpack. He would throw it into the forest when no one was looking.
"Good morning, Draco," the man greeted when he saw him leave his tent.
The boy could see a few drops of sweat sliding down his forehead despite the fact that the sun's rays still didn't hit hard at that time. His attention then turned to the twins, who already seemed fully recovered from their cold. They were running around here and there, disobeying some order the monitor had given them before he showed up. Draco walked over to where he was, looking involuntarily for Granger.
"I haven't been able to light a fire yet, so breakfast is going to take a while," Paul excused himself, glaring at the children and letting him know that they were the reason.
"Need help?" Said a voice behind him. Draco turned to see her knotting her frizzy hair into a ponytail as she walked up to them.
"Could you start setting the fire? I have to get those two to swallow a pill the lady in the infirmary gave me yesterday... what was her name?"
"Madam Pomfrey," she helped him.
"Right, Pomfrey. She told me that they have to take it on an empty stomach so that the effects of their healing don't revert and they catch a cold again... and there is no way to do so."
"Easy, Paul," she smiled. "I got this."
"Thank you…" The man straightened up a little to look for the twins in the distance. In that little moment of distraction they had run so far that they had almost reached the river while jostling and laughing. Crazy screams could be heard from them. Paul snorted and ran in their direction.
Granger sat cross-legged on the ground, beginning to place the wooden sticks within the circle of the fire pit. Draco wanted to leave, lock himself in his tent until everything was ready and they weren't alone... but one way or another his legs no longer obeyed him. When he realized that he had been staring down at her concentrated face, he shook his head and forced himself to look away from it. His eyes now fell on her hands, which gripped a pair of stones tightly as she repeatedly collided near the firewood. It didn't take long for her to make a small flame emerge from a spark. The girl leaned in, putting both hands around it and blowing to keep the fire alive. Draco couldn't help looking back at her. He did so disdainfully, annoyed at not being able to control his own actions. Or maybe what bothered him was that Granger was the reason for his constant infighting? He didn't really know what the correct answer was.
By the time he realized it, the fire was fully lit and she was staring at him. How long had it been like this? Was she expecting something from him? Feeling his heart race for no apparent reason, he kept his expression of displeasure and said:
"What?"
"You're deaf? I told you to pass me that bag over there."
The Slytherin noticed the bag at that moment, taking it and handed it to her so they no longer had to have a conversation. Flashes of her naked body had started to appear over and over in his head and at this point he could no longer think clearly. Would she remember that awkward moment too? Was she doing it right now? Granger seemed pretty calm, actually. Either she had forgotten or she didn't care at all.
"Want some?" She asked suddenly. She had taken the packet of cookies and was now offering him a few. The boy took a couple and put them in his mouth. "Are you going to stand there all the time? You're not going to die from getting your pants a little dirty."
"Why do you care about what I do or don't do?"
"I don't"
Draco stared at her long enough to know what she was saying was true. Now it seemed as if she had forgotten his presence, she started minding her business without paying the slightest attention to him. For some reason that pissed him off.
Cursing himself for what he was about to do, he wrinkled his nose and sat down on the grass. Granger gave him a fleeting glance before continuing to stir the contents of the saucepan. He hated her for not making a simple comment, for not starting a fight that ended with him where he should be: away from her. Instead, they both remained silent as their gazes remained focused on that disgusting powdered milk. He wanted to say something, maybe provoke her and make her angry, but something inside his chest was pressing so hard that he was unable to say a word. He took another bite of the cookie to concentrate on the task of chewing and not think too much about everything on his mind.
A few minutes passed until they could see Paul in the distance with the children. He led them by the hand, one on each side, while they tried to keep hitting the other along the way.
"Are you worried about what you saw last night?" The girl asked suddenly. A horrified expression spread across Draco's face without him being able to do anything to prevent it. Why did she decide to talk about it just when they were about to have company again? Granger smiled, apparently amused by the fact that he was speechless. "It can be our secret; no one has to know. Nor does it have to go any further... unless you want to."
When Paul was by their side, he released the children and took a bottle of water from his backpack. He took a long sip before rummaging through it again and pulling out some cereal and chocolate bars.
"I was saving them for the last day, I was thinking of giving them to you as a reward for your effort, but…" The man tossed one to each of them and opened another for himself. The children were still making a fuss a few steps away. "But this is more… more difficult than I thought. No need to wait, right?"
The Slytherin knew that he actually meant that the experience was being the most horrible, terrifying and distressing of his entire life, but apparently he was trying to be nice by not saying it out loud. Granger poured out three cups and handed one to him, even knowing he hated that liquid crap. Against all odds he accepted it. Their fingers brushed at the exchange of the steaming cup, a drop of milk slipping lazily down the side. He didn't think too much about it when it came to taking a good sip. Putting aside the taste, the pleasant sensation that the hot milk left in his throat eased a little the guilt he felt for wanting something that should embarrass him... something that, apparently, she wanted too.
And somehow it gave him the strength to carry on.
Pansy had never addressed Theo again, when she passed by him she did so as if they didn't know each other at all. Not once did she pass the ball to him during the football game against Ravenclaw, even though they were both forward players. Nor had he ever sat next to her at breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It seemed as if she had become more antisocial than she already was, or maybe it was just a precaution. She was already warned that something was going to happen, it was logical that she would try to avoid it at all costs. Perhaps she was also trying to concoct something, although on her face he couldn't see the expression of assurance she used to have when she knew a plan was going well.
He didn't care. He was still keeping an eye on her just in case. Tonight she had hardly eaten, got up too early and disappeared through the door of the great hall. Theo and Snape had exchanged a meaningful look across the room, a look that lasted a couple of seconds and that made the boy know immediately that he should be following in her footsteps. But by the time he got to the common room, he couldn't find her, and she wasn't in the dungeons either. He decided then to go to the place where he discovered the truth, and although he spent hours hiding with his watchful gaze fixed on that empty wall, at no time did a large door appear out of nowhere or see her walking around with Potter. He knew that things had drastically changed right under his nose. Not realizing it before made his anger grow with every breath he took.
"Are you sure no one has followed you?" He asked again for the umpteenth time. Harry kept a hand on her waist as he glanced sporadically toward that non-fading door.
"I've been careful," the girl answered confidently. "I've locked the door just in case, you've already seen me."
"Yeah, it's just that..."
"You hate going against the rules."
The boy looked at her for a moment. She kept a mocking smile on her face, although it seemed that there was something disturbing her. Something inside her mind that didn't leave her alone.
"I guess that's what happens when you hang out a lot with someone like Hermione," he commented in a lousy attempt to make her forget whatever was distracting her. She was about to say something, but closed her mouth at the last moment. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she laughed, this time louder. "Are you realizing it?"
"Realizing what?"
"That you're following the steps without problems." The boy had almost forgotten that they had both been moving for a while, although there was no music that night. "And you barely stepped on me. Well done."
"A Slytherin recognizing the merit of a Gryffindor?" I must be dreaming," he joked.
"You're wrong," she said with an acted arrogance in her voice. He arched an eyebrow and waited for her to explain. Parkinson licked her lips before continuing. "The credit is all mine."
"I have to agree with you."
"That's because I'm always right."
Harry tripped over some stacked chairs near the end of class, causing the girl to bump into him and their bodies completely glued to each other. He could feel the gradual increase in his heartbeat as the seconds passed and they remained that way. The dim moonlight streaming through the windows partially illuminated her flawless face, making her lank black hair shine brighter than usual. He had never realized how pretty she was, not until now. Why was his throat suddenly dry? And why hadn't they parted yet? They had both stared at each other strangely, almost spellbound. Their lips had begun to be too close together in a way that he couldn't explain, and although the environment wasn't making him uncomfortable at all, it wasn't until she slowly closed her eyes that he realized the inappropriateness of the situation. He swallowed hard to undo the uncomfortable sensation of dryness in his mouth before gently separating her from his body, curving his lips in a small smile that he knew she saw as soon as she opened her eyes. The girl took a breath through her nose and filled her lungs, then emptied them in what seemed more like a gesture of defeat than anything else.
"I'm sorry," he said. "This shouldn't have happened."
"Don't apologize."
"Why?"
"Because you make me feel like the bad guy," she snapped. "Like the witch who… I don't know, stalks the shy boy until she finally manages to steal an intimate moment from him."
They were both silent for a moment, though the heaviness of it soon forced Harry to break it.
"But you don't want to do that." There was some implicit doubt in his words. The girl snorted, waving her hands in the air as she took a couple more steps back.
"No, of course I don't," she replied. Then she walked to the door and pointed her wand at the lock. "There is no point in continuing with this stupidity", Harry heard her mutter as she crossed the door.
The girl left without looking back, leaving him alone in the darkness of the class.
Theo was especially nervous that Thursday morning. He was looking at the professor as if he feared that he considered that he had something to blame for what he was about to tell him.
"So?" Said the man, urging him to speak at once.
"I wanted to make sure Pansy and Potter were still… breaking the rules last night. I was hiding near that room for hours, but I didn't see any of them go in or out."
Snape's nostrils grew larger upon hearing that information. Despite not expressing too much what he felt at that moment, it was more than clear that it was not good.
"Let me take care of that." His voice sounded as calm as ever, but Theo couldn't help but feel the threat that accompanied his words. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
"No, sir."
"Then you can go now," he replied. "But make sure to come back here after dinner."
An owl flew over their heads as they were about to leave the camp for a hike that morning. It circled a couple of times in the air before descending and landing on Paul's shoulder, whose bouncing in amazement didn't scare the animal in the least. The man relaxed when he realized it was carrying a letter in its beak with the reverse sealed with red wax of the Hogwarts emblem. As soon as he had it in his hands, the bird took off again, moving away and disappearing through the treetops.
The unexpected arrival of that letter made the boys approach with curiosity. The twins even seemed to have stopped messing around for a moment. Draco tensed a little as he felt the heat radiating from Granger's arm against his.
"Dear Paul," he began to read, opening and unfolding it. "I must inform you of the decision of the Ministry to include the parents of the students in the initiative that we are carrying out against discrimination against non-magical people. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, Granger, and Montgomery will appear in the meadow where you are tomorrow. They must also participate in the activities that you carry out during the day, since the main purpose of this initiative is to raise awareness among the greatest number of people. Receive a cordial greeting. Albus Dumbledore."
Everyone was silent, analyzing the words that the head teacher had written so neatly on that parchment.
"That's going to be interesting," the girl commented after a few seconds. She then gave Draco a lopsided smile, whom she had found staring at her after her comment.
Harry and Ron parted ways when they reached the castle grounds. The redhead went to the photography area and Harry to the soccer one. Parkinson was already there, but contrary to what she used to do, this time she wasn't talking to anyone. She just stood there, arms crossed and waiting for the coach's orders to start the warm-up. The boy couldn't help but wonder if her behaviour that day had something to do with what happened the night before. He knew that he had done something wrong as soon as his eyes focused on the expression of the girl in that empty classroom, the problem was that he didn't know what the problem had been... and judging by how she was looking at him now his private dance classes had just been cancelled.
He didn't understand why his stomach was churning at that thought, but the truth was that a sharp, stabbing pain had begun to make an appearance inside him. Why did he feel that strange sense of emptiness at the thought that he would never touch her again? He wasn't supposed to care too much about it, but… apparently he did.
Harry jumped in place a couple of times, ready to start running and clear his mind. It was ridiculous to keep mulling over something like that, so the whistle blast never sounded better to him. At last he could free himself from those thoughts by turning his full attention to something else.
It was hot that day, too hot for a place as cold and humid as Scotland. The sun was shining brightly in a somewhat suffocating manner as they ran around the field. Harry had started to feel the shirt stick to his torso due to the sweat he experienced all over his body. Keeping up under these conditions was proving more difficult than he had thought, but the instructor soon let them rest for a few minutes.
"That's right, drink water and recover," she ordered, clapping her hands. "I'll start the Gryffindor-Slytherin match shortly. It's the last one we'll do this week, so enjoy it while it lasts."
Harry took the opportunity to splash some water on his face at that moment. Everyone's suffocation on that hot day was more than evident, but neither the sun nor its effects were going to stop Parkinson. He knew it by looking at the girl across the field. He knew she was competitive, he had played Quidditch matches against her countless times, but this time it was different. Her eyes were more fierce and determined than ever. Her chest rose and fell faster than normal. It was as if she, too, needed adrenaline to make her forget what she kept thinking about.
And then Jennifer blew her whistle to start the game. The first play was started by Seamus, who managed to dodge a couple of guys from the opposing team before passing the ball to Harry with more precision than expected. Harry kept running across the field with the ball. Rivals weren't very skilled at the sport, so getting rid of them was really easy for him. The goal was already close, a golden-haired Slytherin was rubbing her hands with those huge gloves on as she prepared for the shot... but someone who had just caught up with him started running right next to Harry. The second Harry was distracted by smelling her perfume, Parkinson collided shoulder to shoulder and managed to unsettle him enough to steal the ball. She was already running in the opposite direction when he reached her again and decided to move his foot to deflect the ball to a girl on his team, but that didn't turn out to be what he expected. Parkinson stumbled, and though she tried to get her hands on the grass, she ended up hitting the ground on her face.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked urgently, but instead of answering his question, Parkinson turned around and delivered an unexpected kick to his shin from the ground. He bit back a cry and put his hands to the epicentre of that sudden pain, checking that the cleats of her shoes had managed to scrape enough against his skin that small drops of blood began to come out.
The coach trotted up there, reaching into a small pocket on the chest of her shirt. She held up a red card and gave one more whistle.
"It's the first red card I've gotten all week, and I hope it's the last," she told the girl, who was looking at her with a mixture of self-sufficiency and disgust on her face. "My husband had told me something about the rivalry between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors, but I didn't think it would be so obvious. Come on, get up off the ground."
The woman evaluated the wound that the girl presented on her cheekbone for a moment before sighing and adding:
"It doesn't look good. You should go to the infirmary to have it looked at as soon as possible."
"I'll go with her," Nott offered.
"Okay, come with her. The rest of us, we continue the game!"
Harry rubbed his shin again to remove the excess blood before following her with his gaze until the whistle blew again.
Theo smiled as he watched her walk a few feet ahead of him. He had only offered to accompany her because he was aware that his mere presence would get on her nerves, and everyone in Slytherin knew that a demoralized target was much easier prey.
"You won't get to the infirmary that way," the boy scoffed when he saw that she was diverted to the dungeons.
"I'm not going to the bloody infirmary," she said badly.
"But that wound looks really bad."
"Don't try to pretend you don't do this for yourself!" She yelled, turning to him and grimacing when she saw that he was laughing.
He knew well that she must be holding back a lot not to slap him. Someone like her always asserted herself to others, although this time she seemed to have some misgivings about the consequences.
"I would never do anything to hurt you," Theo said mockingly, determined to keep driving her out of her mind. "Not even if that benefit me, my friend."
He could make out a "go to hell" just before a push managed to make him take a couple of steps back, but this didn't make him lose the smile on his face.
"What's going on here?"
Professor Snape appeared behind them with silent steps and a serious face. He looked at them from above as if he was judging them internally.
"Professor... it's her, she doesn't want to go to the infirmary," the boy anticipated.
"Why would Miss Parkinson have to go to the infirmary?"
The two of them turned their gazes towards her, who had suddenly fixed her gaze on her shoes and let her hair form a curtain between them.
"She fell while we were playing a game and injured her face."
"How bad does an injury have to be for someone to be sent to the infirmary?" The man asked, though they both knew he wasn't really expecting an answer. "Let me see it."
Pansy moved so fast that it revealed the slit that had appeared on her face in a blink of an eye. Blood trickled down her cheek and dripped from her chin to her feet. Despite being in front of the professor, her head was looking to the right, her eyes fixed on the wall at the end of the hall.
"Well, you must have had a pretty hard fall… Does it hurt?"
His words lingered in the air for a few seconds, long enough for Pansy to take a deep breath and weakly shake her head. It was such a fleeting movement that anyone would have mistaken it for a spasm.
"Does. It. Hurt?" The professor insisted. "Yes or no?"
"No," she answered aloud.
"Didn't your parents teach you that when you talk to someone you should look them in the eye?"
Theo watched curiously as something inside her exploded with rage. She closed them for a moment, her face full of frustration, before opening them again and looking at the professor. They held their gaze for what seemed like an eternity, an awkward silence enveloping them until Snape pursed his lips a little and turned away.
"Make sure she goes to the infirmary, Nott."
When the professor turned the corner and they were alone again, Theo grabbed her arm to force her to retrace her steps. Pansy let go in one nimble movement and bared her teeth before leaning over to whisper something to him.
"Don't think I'm not going to play my cards too, friend."
And with contempt of that last word still in the air, Pansy started walking toward the infirmary.
Draco kept mulling over what Granger had told him the morning before. He wasn't even listening to what Paul was spouting about the benefits of walking outside. No, he didn't give a shit about that. The only thing on his mind at the moment was her and her ability to confuse him. What had she meant by that "unless you want to"? Was it that if it were up to her what happened that night would have come to more? How much more? How long was the limit for Granger?
And for him? The truth was that just by the simple fact of thinking about it, he was already breaking the indecent barrier, but... why couldn't he stop?
He hated her, he detested her with all his soul... but at the same time he couldn't get the vision of her naked body out of his head, and he knew himself well enough to know that if he kept letting that topic haunt him so much, he would end up falling into the temptation.
He glanced at her as she chatted with the man animatedly. He wasn't going to look for it to happen, but if she kept provoking him like this, she would surely get him to his knees. Damn! After all, he was flesh and blood… and he could hold out to some degree. The problem was that he didn't know how strong was her intention to make him fall, and although the idea that she managed to redeem him caused him great anger and uncontrollable discomfort, a tiny part somewhere in his brain wanted her to remain persistent in her mission.
Theo knocked on his office door after dinner, just as the professor had asked him in the morning. After hearing a simple "go ahead", the boy opened the door and went into the room.
"Professor," he greeted.
The man was placing a book on the back shelf. He slowly turned around and began to walk to his desk, standing next to him when he arrived.
"I trust you took Miss Parkinson to the infirmary."
"Yes."
"And how is she feeling?"
"Mrs. Promfrey closed the wound in a few minutes."
"Good," said the professor, absently stroking the back of his chair. "Do you know the abandoned classroom on the third floor?"
Theo nodded even though the sudden change of topic had thrown him a bit off balance.
"I think so, professor."
"Great."
"Excuse me, but... why are you asking?"
The man finally sat down in the chair and laced his fingers on the desk.
"Because I know that Miss Parkinson and Mr. Potter have made this their new meeting point. However, and taking into account that your friend has been a bit... aggressive with that boy during today's game, I think it would be convenient for you to go check that both are still seeing each other secretly," he commented, almost reluctantly. "We don't want to waste Mrs. Malfoy's time, do we?"
Theo wondered when he found out about the little altercation between the two of them, or worse still, about the classroom they were now supposedly using to see each other. But there was something in the tone of his voice that discouraged the boy from asking how he had obtained that information. He would have to accept that he had found out one way or another. From the interest he had taken in all this, it seemed that he wanted to teach the girl a lesson as much as Theo did.
"I want you to go to the classroom I mentioned," he ordered. "Check that everything's in order and come back here tomorrow morning. Your friend is having an attitude not worthy of a Slytherin, she needs a little discipline and you are going to help me provide it."
Draco had reluctantly stretched out on that sheet. Paul had asked them to do it in such a way that their heads formed the circumference of a circle and now he had him on one side and Granger on the other. They were all looking up at the sky, waiting for it to finish getting dark enough to be able to see the stars.
"It shouldn't be long," the man said.
Miraculously, the twins had ended up falling asleep to the gentle, pleasant breeze that blew that night. When the sky finally began to fill with bright stars, Draco felt a sudden, superficial brush of fingers against the back of his hand. He turned his head slightly to look at Granger in confusion, but she didn't seem to flinch one bit from his scrutiny.
"Now as I have taught you," Paul whispered, raising his arm and pointing to a point above their heads. "Do you see the Polar Star?"
Draco didn't see a shit. It was the first time in his entire life that he had tried to find the constellations, and he was actually not having much success. The sky was full of stars, the clearing they were in revealed thousands of them that shone with different intensity. He heard Granger hold her breath for a few seconds.
"I see it," she said, also in a whisper. "It's beautiful."
Draco closed his eyes and blew the air out of his lungs without making a sound. He had to calm down. His ridiculous heart seemed to twist inside him with her only stupid proximity.
"You are beautiful", he caught himself thinking at the bottom of his mind.
Harry was climbing the stairs with Ron to go to their common room. The day had been so long that all he thought about was getting into bed and letting his body rest until the next morning... but seeing Parkinson leaning against the wall next to the portrait of the fat lady made him understand that maybe things would be different tonight.
The girl seemed to be still angry with him, but for some reason that was beyond his understanding, she had gone to look for him in his common room. Ron winced in confusion and looked at him for answers, unsure whether he should stay there or drag his friend inside to rid him of her.
"I'm going in now," he told Ron, hoping he didn't ask questions about it. He wouldn't have been able to answer them anyway.
Ron seemed reluctant to leave without him, probably due to how strange it was that someone like Parkinson was looking for him at that time of the day, but after a rather awkward moment in which neither said anything and the three of them looked at each other, he decided to go in and leave them alone.
She was silent for a few more seconds, long enough for the boy to notice something that had changed in her face. A thin scar had appeared across her cheekbone, and it was lightly red. It was almost imperceptible, but the reflection of the wound was faintly visible when she moved her head.
"I need you to come with me," she snapped.
These abrupt words brought Harry out of his musings. He looked into her eyes again, this time narrowing his.
"Where?"
"To the same place as yesterday," she replied impatiently.
"I thought…"
"Are you coming or not?" She interrupted him.
"May I refuse?"
"Not really."
"So… let's go."
They both set out in silence, leaving a safe distance between them since there were still students hanging around the corridors. Harry opened the door and stepped aside to let her pass. She didn't even deign to look at him as she entered, she went to an old table and sat on it while he cast a spell on the door to assure them privacy.
"No one is going to catch us with your hands on my waist, not tonight."
"I thought it wouldn't be convenient if they found us together in a dark room anyway," he said, shrugging. "It could be easily misinterpreted."
"Yeah."
"By the way, are you going to tell me why we're here if you don't intend to keep helping me practice?"
"No." Her answer was so curt that it made Harry decide to go a little further. He felt like he needed to clarify some things with her.
"Okay... Listen, I know you're angry, but what happened..."
"Don't expect me to apologize. You deserved the kick," she said flatly before pointing to the scar on her cheekbone. "See this? It's your fault."
"It's fine. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you like that... but that's not what I meant anyway... and even if it had been, I wouldn't have expected you to apologize."
"What did you mean then?"
"About yesterday."
The bones of her fingers crunched as she clung tightly to the edge of that table.
"I don't know what are you talking about."
"I really think you do…" Harry took a few steps in her direction, slowly and without taking his gaze from hers. There was something he wanted to ask her, something he had thought about most of the nights. But he wanted to take his time choosing the right words, you never knew what could happen with someone like Parkinson. "When you said there is no point in continuing with this stupidity, what did you really mean?"
The girl narrowed her eyes.
"You're not going to let it go, are you?"
"I'm just curious. You were the one who offered to help me with this."
"I wasn't referring to the dance when I said it," she confessed.
Harry's bewilderment was evident.
"Then what?"
"You shouldn't want to know everything, Potter. Sometimes you live happier in ignorance."
"Well, I'm not like that."
The Gryffindor had to focus his eyes to appreciate the half smile that had appeared on her face. Oddly he preferred her that way, with her sarcastic smile and arrogant expression. If he had to choose, he would go for it rather than the angry Parkinson.
"I lied when I said I was trying to be a better person," she said haughtily. "I'm not trying to do my good deed of the year with you, Potter. All I wanted with this was to get something in return, but you see. I've gotten tired of trying."
Harry's heart began to race without warning. There was something in her confession that he didn't quite understand... or maybe he did and he didn't want to see it. He had thought about it, he couldn't deny it, but he never believed it could be true. He was going to regret asking, but he couldn't be left with the doubt.
"And what did you want to achieve?"
"Trust me, you don't want to know."
She looked away at that moment, revealing the scar that remained from the wound from that morning. It was strange, but knowing that he had hurt her, even if it had been involuntary, aroused an enlightening feeling in him. Because he wanted to put his fingers there, caress the skin of her cheek until the pain healed. And maybe then tuck her hair behind her ear. Yes, he wanted to. And he kept wanting to do it even after he was aware that it was not the right thing to do. He knew she was engaged, and to a man he knew well. Anyway, he wasn't the best at realizing things, not when it was referring to women... but if he had understood the background of her words and she was looking for something other than a strange friendship in him, then, maybe...
"Trust me, I do," he said without hesitation.
Parkinson shook her head slowly to look at him again. She seemed to be trying to assess whether he was really aware of his words and what it might entail. They stared at each other in silence for a few long seconds. There was no trace of anger left on her face, now he could only see what seemed to be a hint of growing arousal in her eyes, although he couldn't be entirely sure due to the darkness.
He didn't realize the proximity between them until the girl jumped off the table and pressed her lips to his. His body tensed involuntarily at first, but the softness of that kiss made him relax to the point that he even allowed himself to close his eyes and forget about what was good and what was bad. At that time there was only space in his mind for pleasure, they would regret it tomorrow. If they did.
Contrary to what she had said at first, Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and she clung a little closer to him. Her hands moved through his hair as if she'd been dreaming about it for years, as if she was finally allowed to taste the candy she'd long wanted to taste. Her breath was fresh and sweet at the same time, her lips soft and her skin burning. You could tell that it was her who was setting the pace, which was increasing with the passing of the seconds. Her tongue savoured his mouth urgently, as if she was afraid of running out of time any moment. Or as if she thought she was going to wake up from a dream. But he was there, and he wasn't going to leave until she wanted him to. Because he was actually liking it, and he knew it. Because it was the most excited time he had felt with a girl, and the fact that she was from Slytherin only increased the morbidity. It was so crazy that he loved it, and that was a side he didn't know about himself.
They were both about to start hyperventilating when they pulled apart for air. Harry took the opportunity to lift his thumb and gently press the place of the scar. The girl turned her head to kiss the palm of his hand.
"I bet you didn't even know you wanted this," she whispered.
Her breath made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Or maybe it had been those forceful words, that had made him understand something that he had been overlooking all along.
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Cristy.