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sesheta66Title: No Home for the Holidays - part 3
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 2500
Pairing/Characters: Harry, Draco, others (eventual H/D)
Summary: Meals prove to be a challenge.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Challenges: Written for the following third week of Christmas prompts:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
awdt Christmas Quickies: #19 - carol singing.
dracoharry100 Christmas Challenge: Christmas Day; elves; ivy; holly; snowflake; angels.
slythindor100 Special Holiday Challenge: #20 - Christmas pudding. See pictures here.
![[info]](https://p.dreamwidth.org/c0b679d12b01/2948326-266061/www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif)
adventdrabbles on IJ: #17 - Christmas carols; #19 - snow.
********
Click here to start at the beginning.
No Home for the Holidays - Part 3
Feeling lighter than he had for days, Harry made his way down to supper. He appreciated Kingsley's position as Minister, and knew that he felt a particular loyalty to the Aurors. It was just … he had no proof of it, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that, no matter what Kingsley said, Malfoy wasn't far off the mark.
Thinking back to Ron's reaction, Harry suspected that many Aurors probably believed the same - that Narcissa Malfoy's murder was justified. But now that Kingsley had spoken to them, they suddenly had a lead. Harry wondered at the timing, and whether the lead only surfaced after the Minister got involved. No matter, as long as they caught the person responsible.
Harry thought about his own parents. He had been lied to for years about their deaths. Once he found out how they'd really died, and who was responsible, it shed a whole new light on things for Harry. Once he realised that Voldemort hadn't paid for the crime, he'd been determined to see justice served. Finding Narcissa Malfoy's killer wouldn't bring his mother back, but it would at least provide Malfoy with closure. Something it took many years for Harry to achieve. And try as he might to forget it, Harry could still hear the pain in Malfoy's voice from the other day.
"Watch where you're going, Potter."
Deep in thought, Harry had nearly run into the very person he'd been thinking about. "Sorry," he said. "Wasn't paying attention."
Malfoy looked stunned. Harry supposed it wasn't every day he apologised to Malfoy. He recovered quickly and sneered at Harry. "That much is obvious."
Harry considered telling Malfoy exactly why he'd been distracted, but thought better of it. No point giving him false hope. Then he registered the fact that Malfoy was here, at Hogwarts, over the holidays. That was strange. Harry hadn't thought about it before now, but he found it strange that Malfoy hadn't gone with Parkinson.
As though reading Harry's thoughts, Malfoy said, "What? Not spending the holidays at the hovel with the weasel, weaselette, and the rest of the ginger brood?"
Anger flared inside Harry. Why was it that Harry wanted to help him again? "Shut up, Malfoy."
He snorted. "You wound me, Potter."
Harry ignored him and went into the Great Hall. Then stopped in his tracks as he took in the new arrangement of tables in the room. This time, Malfoy nearly walked into him.
"Ah, gentlemen," the Headmistress said as she spotted them. "Good of you to join us. It seems you are the only two of your year staying back."
It had been years since Harry had remained at Hogwarts over Christmas, and he'd forgotten that, with so many students gone for the holidays, they discarded the house tables. Had he thought about it, he shouldn't have been surprised. After all, McGonagall had made several speeches this year that included 'inter-house unity' as a theme. It made sense that she would continue Dumbledore's tradition in this matter. Harry was hopeful, though, that she wouldn't encourage Christmas carolling, given her lack of enthusiasm for it in the past. Harry had difficulty refusing her requests.
"There are very few students staying behind - just nine of you, this year - so we've set up a small table for meals." She smiled and motioned them towards the table at the centre of the room.
Great. Now he got to eat meals with the prat. Maybe it wasn't too late to change his mind and go to the Burrow.
"But not to worry, you won't need to sit with the professors, except for the feasts. We'll still take our meals at the staff table. Wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable."
Harry nearly burst into laughter at the thought of a comfortable meal with Malfoy. It was with a small amount of satisfaction that Harry took his seat, noting that Malfoy didn't look any more pleased about the situation than he did.
~*~*~
The next morning, Harry arrived for breakfast to find Malfoy already there. Only Malfoy. It seemed the other students were having a lie-in, and none of the staff were present either. Harry stood, halfway between the door and table, not sure what to do. Malfoy looked up when Harry stopped, rolled his eyes, and went back to eating. After a moment of indecision, Harry decided that it would be ridiculous to leave, so he sat down.
The silence was awkward, and Harry alternated staring at his food and looking around the room at the decorations. The various greens of the trees, holly and ivy were interspersed with the silver, white and gold of the angels. And it still amazed Harry to watch snowflakes fall from the enchanted ceiling and just disappear.
He pushed his eggs around his plate, and managed to swallow a bit of toast. After a few minutes, Malfoy left and Harry relaxed. This was going to be a long week.
Lunch was easier, with the other students present. There were two second year Gryffindor girls, two Ravenclaw sisters from fifth year, two boys and a girl Harry didn't know from Hufflepuff, Malfoy and Harry. So, Malfoy had the Slytherin dungeons all to himself. Harry wasn't sure if he'd want to be alone in Gryffindor Tower.
He wondered briefly if Malfoy was spending Christmas Day at school. For some reason, the thought bothered him. Still, it didn't prompt him to have a conversation with Malfoy. He wouldn't know what to say if he tried.
Dinner was much like lunch, except the staff were present at the head table. The other students chatted animatedly amongst themselves while Harry and Malfoy ate silently.
To Harry's dismay, breakfast the next day was the same as the first. No staff and no other students. Just Malfoy. He sat down and began eating. This is ridiculous, he thought.
"So," Harry ventured, "do you have plans for Christmas?"
Malfoy dropped his fork and glared at Harry.
"What?" Harry asked. "I was just trying to make conversation."
"Do us both a favour, Potter," he said as he got up from the table. "Don't bother." And he left.
Well, that went well.
Malfoy didn't come to lunch. Harry felt a twinge of guilt, once again wondering if Malfoy was going to be on his own at school for Christmas.
Harry was the last to arrive for dinner, and found he had to take a seat directly across from Malfoy. Lovely. He could feel Malfoy's glare, despite staring at his plate the entire meal.
The next morning, Harry decided to have breakfast in the kitchen. The house elves were always pleased to see him, and it would be a relief to have a relaxing meal. That came to an end about ten minutes in.
"Oh, for the love of Merlin!" Malfoy groaned as he entered the room. "Is there nowhere I can go to escape you?"
"Oh, just come in and sit down, Malfoy." Harry had had enough of this. "There's plenty of food, and I don't bite."
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and gave Harry a curious look. Harry felt heat rush to his cheeks. He immediately took a sip of tea and choked on it. Malfoy sat down, his lips twitching.
Apart from telling the house elves what they wanted - no, they didn't need an early taste of Christmas pudding for breakfast, thanks - Harry and Malfoy ate in silence. It was awkward, but slightly less so than in the Great Hall. Eventually, though, Harry couldn't stop himself from talking.
"Malfoy," he ventured.
"Potter." He didn't look up.
"So … are you staying here for Christmas?" he asked.
Malfoy put down his fork and looked up. Harry thought he might storm out like he had the day before, but he didn't.
"I would have thought that was rather obvious - even for you, Potter - since I'm sitting here."
Harry felt his face go red. He swallowed a nasty retort. "I just meant Christmas Day."
"Why? Are you staying here?"
"Obviously," Harry replied with a wry grin. "But I'm going to the Burrow for Christmas."
"Ah," Malfoy replied. He picked up his fork and began eating again.
"Well?"
"If you must know, I'm going to Pansy's house."
"Oh." Harry took a sip of his pumpkin juice. "Well that's good."
Malfoy's fork stilled mid way to his mouth, and Harry looked up at him. He was giving Harry a very odd look.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Why do you care?"
"It's Christmas." Harry shrugged. "No one should be alone on Christmas."
No more was said until Harry took his last sip of tea. "See you later."
"Why are you here?" Malfoy asked, stopping Harry as he was getting up to leave.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you, here. Why? Surely the Great Harry Potter has places to go, people to see, interviews to give."
"Don't call me that," Harry said, wondering again why he even bothered.
"I can't believe the weasel and weaselette are too happy about it."
"Their names are Ron and Ginny," he corrected through gritted teeth.
"Whatever. Why are you here if they're there?"
"Ron has Hermione, and Ginny … she'll be fine."
"The Golden Trio? Don't tell me you've broken up with them?"
"Not them, no. But they're together now."
"Ah. So you broke up with the wea-- Ginny?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but yeah, I did."
Malfoy smirked. "Oh, my. She must not be very happy at all." He, on the other hand, seemed to be quite pleased. Harry wondered if memories of her Bat Bogey Hex still haunted the prat.
"So why are you here instead of with Parkinson?"
Malfoy shrugged. Harry raised his eyebrows.
"I guess I just wanted to be on my own."
Harry nodded. "Being around other people's families for weeks, especially if you can't be with your own, can be a bit much at this time of year."
Malfoy scowled.
"What?"
"That was almost … insightful, Potter."
"Yeah, well," Harry shrugged. "Hermione must have rubbed off on me."
Malfoy laughed. Harry joined him. It was … very strange. Nice, but strange.
~*~*~
Draco returned to the Slytherin common room confused. Extremely confused. Draco didn't like being confused. Confusion led to frowning, which led to premature wrinkling.
He had started his day out determined to avoid Potter, to avoid yet another painful meal at which the two of them would remain silent, each trying to choke down their food, determinedly avoiding each other. Not so easy when seated at the same table.
But then Draco entered the kitchens to find, of all people, Potter sitting there chatting with the house-elves, a vast array of food in front of him. Of course he did.
And if that weren't enough, Potter actually started a conversation with Draco. His remark about not biting brought visions to Draco's mind, rather delicious visions that had nothing whatsoever to do with food, and he'd had to suppress the impulse to vocalise what he'd been thinking - Pity. And where the hell did that thought come from?
If Draco were honest with himself, he would acknowledge that it wasn't the first time he'd pictured Potter … well. But that had been his subconscious responding to the school-wide swoon-fest over the Chosen One. He couldn't help what thoughts crept into his mind when he was drifting off to sleep. And that time in the Room of Requirement? That was sheer adrenaline. So what if memories of that day were occasionally - well, alright, often followed by a good wank? It had nothing to do with his feelings for Potter. He didn't have feelings for Potter. He was indifferent where Potter was concerned. Well, okay, maybe not indifferent. But he didn't think of him that way. Really, he didn't.
Today, however, was the first time Draco had ever reacted while Potter was actually there. Then … then! When Draco had given him a look that said, you did not just say that, Potter had the nerve to blush! And, Merlin help him, didn't that send Draco's blood rushing south? Fuck.
That they'd gone on to enjoy their meal, without coming to blows, confused Draco even more. How could Potter do this? They'd had seven years to work on their roles, to perfect this routine, and now Potter was just throwing it all aside. He was trying to be nice. Well, Draco didn't do nice, not where Potter was concerned, and he wasn't about to start now.
But then Draco had been inexplicably pleased when Potter said he'd broken up with the weaselette. And then Potter said something funny, and Draco had laughed. He shook his head as if to wash the memory away. No. It was too late now. He had given Potter the chance to be his friend years ago, and he'd chosen the weasel back then. That thought still irked Draco. More than he cared to admit.
~*~*~
Harry arrived for lunch to find Malfoy and the two Gryffindors already seated. He took the seat directly across from Malfoy and began filling his plate. When he looked up, Malfoy was glaring at him.
"What?"
"We're not friends now, Potter."
"Er … okay." Where did that come from?
Malfoy nodded and went back to eating.
Harry thought about their breakfast and how they'd actually had a civil conversation. Actually, he'd spent all morning thinking about it. About how the pointy features of Malfoy's face softened when he laughed. Strange how Harry had never noticed that before. Sure, it was true, he and Malfoy hadn't exactly exchanged many laughs, but still.
And that look he'd given Harry. It was almost like a challenge. Surely not. No. Malfoy hated him. The proof was right in front of him. Harry looked up. And found Malfoy watching him. Then felt his cheeks redden again. He quickly looked away, hoping Malfoy hadn't seen that. This week was getting weirder all the time.
~*~*~
Damn it, Draco thought. Why did Potter have to blush? And look so ….
And why was Draco's body reacting to him like this? What was he thinking?
Visions of flames surrounding him, a hand reaching out to grab his, a strong body, Draco's arms pulling him closer --
Bang! Draco slammed his fork down, got up, and left the Great Hall. He needed to get out. Get some air. Get some distance between them. He had no idea what was happening to him, but it was all Potter's fault. Best that he stay far away.
Draco retrieved his broom and headed for the Quidditch pitch. Nothing like some crisp, cold air in his face to help him clear his head.
Part 4
Author:
sesheta_66 Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 2500
Pairing/Characters: Harry, Draco, others (eventual H/D)
Summary: Meals prove to be a challenge.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Challenges: Written for the following third week of Christmas prompts:
awdt Christmas Quickies: #19 - carol singing.dracoharry100 Christmas Challenge: Christmas Day; elves; ivy; holly; snowflake; angels.slythindor100 Special Holiday Challenge: #20 - Christmas pudding. See pictures here.adventdrabbles on IJ: #17 - Christmas carols; #19 - snow.********
Click here to start at the beginning.
Feeling lighter than he had for days, Harry made his way down to supper. He appreciated Kingsley's position as Minister, and knew that he felt a particular loyalty to the Aurors. It was just … he had no proof of it, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that, no matter what Kingsley said, Malfoy wasn't far off the mark.
Thinking back to Ron's reaction, Harry suspected that many Aurors probably believed the same - that Narcissa Malfoy's murder was justified. But now that Kingsley had spoken to them, they suddenly had a lead. Harry wondered at the timing, and whether the lead only surfaced after the Minister got involved. No matter, as long as they caught the person responsible.
Harry thought about his own parents. He had been lied to for years about their deaths. Once he found out how they'd really died, and who was responsible, it shed a whole new light on things for Harry. Once he realised that Voldemort hadn't paid for the crime, he'd been determined to see justice served. Finding Narcissa Malfoy's killer wouldn't bring his mother back, but it would at least provide Malfoy with closure. Something it took many years for Harry to achieve. And try as he might to forget it, Harry could still hear the pain in Malfoy's voice from the other day.
"Watch where you're going, Potter."
Deep in thought, Harry had nearly run into the very person he'd been thinking about. "Sorry," he said. "Wasn't paying attention."
Malfoy looked stunned. Harry supposed it wasn't every day he apologised to Malfoy. He recovered quickly and sneered at Harry. "That much is obvious."
Harry considered telling Malfoy exactly why he'd been distracted, but thought better of it. No point giving him false hope. Then he registered the fact that Malfoy was here, at Hogwarts, over the holidays. That was strange. Harry hadn't thought about it before now, but he found it strange that Malfoy hadn't gone with Parkinson.
As though reading Harry's thoughts, Malfoy said, "What? Not spending the holidays at the hovel with the weasel, weaselette, and the rest of the ginger brood?"
Anger flared inside Harry. Why was it that Harry wanted to help him again? "Shut up, Malfoy."
He snorted. "You wound me, Potter."
Harry ignored him and went into the Great Hall. Then stopped in his tracks as he took in the new arrangement of tables in the room. This time, Malfoy nearly walked into him.
"Ah, gentlemen," the Headmistress said as she spotted them. "Good of you to join us. It seems you are the only two of your year staying back."
It had been years since Harry had remained at Hogwarts over Christmas, and he'd forgotten that, with so many students gone for the holidays, they discarded the house tables. Had he thought about it, he shouldn't have been surprised. After all, McGonagall had made several speeches this year that included 'inter-house unity' as a theme. It made sense that she would continue Dumbledore's tradition in this matter. Harry was hopeful, though, that she wouldn't encourage Christmas carolling, given her lack of enthusiasm for it in the past. Harry had difficulty refusing her requests.
"There are very few students staying behind - just nine of you, this year - so we've set up a small table for meals." She smiled and motioned them towards the table at the centre of the room.
Great. Now he got to eat meals with the prat. Maybe it wasn't too late to change his mind and go to the Burrow.
"But not to worry, you won't need to sit with the professors, except for the feasts. We'll still take our meals at the staff table. Wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable."
Harry nearly burst into laughter at the thought of a comfortable meal with Malfoy. It was with a small amount of satisfaction that Harry took his seat, noting that Malfoy didn't look any more pleased about the situation than he did.
The next morning, Harry arrived for breakfast to find Malfoy already there. Only Malfoy. It seemed the other students were having a lie-in, and none of the staff were present either. Harry stood, halfway between the door and table, not sure what to do. Malfoy looked up when Harry stopped, rolled his eyes, and went back to eating. After a moment of indecision, Harry decided that it would be ridiculous to leave, so he sat down.
The silence was awkward, and Harry alternated staring at his food and looking around the room at the decorations. The various greens of the trees, holly and ivy were interspersed with the silver, white and gold of the angels. And it still amazed Harry to watch snowflakes fall from the enchanted ceiling and just disappear.
He pushed his eggs around his plate, and managed to swallow a bit of toast. After a few minutes, Malfoy left and Harry relaxed. This was going to be a long week.
Lunch was easier, with the other students present. There were two second year Gryffindor girls, two Ravenclaw sisters from fifth year, two boys and a girl Harry didn't know from Hufflepuff, Malfoy and Harry. So, Malfoy had the Slytherin dungeons all to himself. Harry wasn't sure if he'd want to be alone in Gryffindor Tower.
He wondered briefly if Malfoy was spending Christmas Day at school. For some reason, the thought bothered him. Still, it didn't prompt him to have a conversation with Malfoy. He wouldn't know what to say if he tried.
Dinner was much like lunch, except the staff were present at the head table. The other students chatted animatedly amongst themselves while Harry and Malfoy ate silently.
To Harry's dismay, breakfast the next day was the same as the first. No staff and no other students. Just Malfoy. He sat down and began eating. This is ridiculous, he thought.
"So," Harry ventured, "do you have plans for Christmas?"
Malfoy dropped his fork and glared at Harry.
"What?" Harry asked. "I was just trying to make conversation."
"Do us both a favour, Potter," he said as he got up from the table. "Don't bother." And he left.
Well, that went well.
Malfoy didn't come to lunch. Harry felt a twinge of guilt, once again wondering if Malfoy was going to be on his own at school for Christmas.
Harry was the last to arrive for dinner, and found he had to take a seat directly across from Malfoy. Lovely. He could feel Malfoy's glare, despite staring at his plate the entire meal.
The next morning, Harry decided to have breakfast in the kitchen. The house elves were always pleased to see him, and it would be a relief to have a relaxing meal. That came to an end about ten minutes in.
"Oh, for the love of Merlin!" Malfoy groaned as he entered the room. "Is there nowhere I can go to escape you?"
"Oh, just come in and sit down, Malfoy." Harry had had enough of this. "There's plenty of food, and I don't bite."
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and gave Harry a curious look. Harry felt heat rush to his cheeks. He immediately took a sip of tea and choked on it. Malfoy sat down, his lips twitching.
Apart from telling the house elves what they wanted - no, they didn't need an early taste of Christmas pudding for breakfast, thanks - Harry and Malfoy ate in silence. It was awkward, but slightly less so than in the Great Hall. Eventually, though, Harry couldn't stop himself from talking.
"Malfoy," he ventured.
"Potter." He didn't look up.
"So … are you staying here for Christmas?" he asked.
Malfoy put down his fork and looked up. Harry thought he might storm out like he had the day before, but he didn't.
"I would have thought that was rather obvious - even for you, Potter - since I'm sitting here."
Harry felt his face go red. He swallowed a nasty retort. "I just meant Christmas Day."
"Why? Are you staying here?"
"Obviously," Harry replied with a wry grin. "But I'm going to the Burrow for Christmas."
"Ah," Malfoy replied. He picked up his fork and began eating again.
"Well?"
"If you must know, I'm going to Pansy's house."
"Oh." Harry took a sip of his pumpkin juice. "Well that's good."
Malfoy's fork stilled mid way to his mouth, and Harry looked up at him. He was giving Harry a very odd look.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Why do you care?"
"It's Christmas." Harry shrugged. "No one should be alone on Christmas."
No more was said until Harry took his last sip of tea. "See you later."
"Why are you here?" Malfoy asked, stopping Harry as he was getting up to leave.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you, here. Why? Surely the Great Harry Potter has places to go, people to see, interviews to give."
"Don't call me that," Harry said, wondering again why he even bothered.
"I can't believe the weasel and weaselette are too happy about it."
"Their names are Ron and Ginny," he corrected through gritted teeth.
"Whatever. Why are you here if they're there?"
"Ron has Hermione, and Ginny … she'll be fine."
"The Golden Trio? Don't tell me you've broken up with them?"
"Not them, no. But they're together now."
"Ah. So you broke up with the wea-- Ginny?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but yeah, I did."
Malfoy smirked. "Oh, my. She must not be very happy at all." He, on the other hand, seemed to be quite pleased. Harry wondered if memories of her Bat Bogey Hex still haunted the prat.
"So why are you here instead of with Parkinson?"
Malfoy shrugged. Harry raised his eyebrows.
"I guess I just wanted to be on my own."
Harry nodded. "Being around other people's families for weeks, especially if you can't be with your own, can be a bit much at this time of year."
Malfoy scowled.
"What?"
"That was almost … insightful, Potter."
"Yeah, well," Harry shrugged. "Hermione must have rubbed off on me."
Malfoy laughed. Harry joined him. It was … very strange. Nice, but strange.
Draco returned to the Slytherin common room confused. Extremely confused. Draco didn't like being confused. Confusion led to frowning, which led to premature wrinkling.
He had started his day out determined to avoid Potter, to avoid yet another painful meal at which the two of them would remain silent, each trying to choke down their food, determinedly avoiding each other. Not so easy when seated at the same table.
But then Draco entered the kitchens to find, of all people, Potter sitting there chatting with the house-elves, a vast array of food in front of him. Of course he did.
And if that weren't enough, Potter actually started a conversation with Draco. His remark about not biting brought visions to Draco's mind, rather delicious visions that had nothing whatsoever to do with food, and he'd had to suppress the impulse to vocalise what he'd been thinking - Pity. And where the hell did that thought come from?
If Draco were honest with himself, he would acknowledge that it wasn't the first time he'd pictured Potter … well. But that had been his subconscious responding to the school-wide swoon-fest over the Chosen One. He couldn't help what thoughts crept into his mind when he was drifting off to sleep. And that time in the Room of Requirement? That was sheer adrenaline. So what if memories of that day were occasionally - well, alright, often followed by a good wank? It had nothing to do with his feelings for Potter. He didn't have feelings for Potter. He was indifferent where Potter was concerned. Well, okay, maybe not indifferent. But he didn't think of him that way. Really, he didn't.
Today, however, was the first time Draco had ever reacted while Potter was actually there. Then … then! When Draco had given him a look that said, you did not just say that, Potter had the nerve to blush! And, Merlin help him, didn't that send Draco's blood rushing south? Fuck.
That they'd gone on to enjoy their meal, without coming to blows, confused Draco even more. How could Potter do this? They'd had seven years to work on their roles, to perfect this routine, and now Potter was just throwing it all aside. He was trying to be nice. Well, Draco didn't do nice, not where Potter was concerned, and he wasn't about to start now.
But then Draco had been inexplicably pleased when Potter said he'd broken up with the weaselette. And then Potter said something funny, and Draco had laughed. He shook his head as if to wash the memory away. No. It was too late now. He had given Potter the chance to be his friend years ago, and he'd chosen the weasel back then. That thought still irked Draco. More than he cared to admit.
Harry arrived for lunch to find Malfoy and the two Gryffindors already seated. He took the seat directly across from Malfoy and began filling his plate. When he looked up, Malfoy was glaring at him.
"What?"
"We're not friends now, Potter."
"Er … okay." Where did that come from?
Malfoy nodded and went back to eating.
Harry thought about their breakfast and how they'd actually had a civil conversation. Actually, he'd spent all morning thinking about it. About how the pointy features of Malfoy's face softened when he laughed. Strange how Harry had never noticed that before. Sure, it was true, he and Malfoy hadn't exactly exchanged many laughs, but still.
And that look he'd given Harry. It was almost like a challenge. Surely not. No. Malfoy hated him. The proof was right in front of him. Harry looked up. And found Malfoy watching him. Then felt his cheeks redden again. He quickly looked away, hoping Malfoy hadn't seen that. This week was getting weirder all the time.
Damn it, Draco thought. Why did Potter have to blush? And look so ….
And why was Draco's body reacting to him like this? What was he thinking?
Visions of flames surrounding him, a hand reaching out to grab his, a strong body, Draco's arms pulling him closer --
Bang! Draco slammed his fork down, got up, and left the Great Hall. He needed to get out. Get some air. Get some distance between them. He had no idea what was happening to him, but it was all Potter's fault. Best that he stay far away.
Draco retrieved his broom and headed for the Quidditch pitch. Nothing like some crisp, cold air in his face to help him clear his head.
Part 4
