Jealousy - Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter - PART XXII, PART XXIII, PART XXIV
Title: Jealousy: PART XXII, PART XXIII, XXIV
Author: laughs_muses (fic journal)
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13, PG-13, PG-13
Disclaimer: No, none of these characters are mine. If they were mine I wouldn’t be working absurd hours in a coffee shop, now would I? Nup, I’d be cruising around in my Merc with little HP flags on the bonnet and…*dreams*
Summary: Draco and Pansy go to the dinner party...Harry and Ginny go to the dinner party...and Harry and Draco have a MOMENT...A MOMENT!
Set: Lady Fitzpatrick's manor
Beta: None, aggggaaaiiinnn.
Authors Notes: So here we are again...just you and me...you and me. HOORAY FOR WESTERNS. I know, this plot is excruciatingly slow...but I'm trying to be as realistic as I can. Now, I have a seperate surprise for those who wanted to see some Harry/Charlie...
Jealousy: PART I
Jealousy: PART II
Jealousy: PART III
Jealousy: PART IV
Jealousy: PART V, PART VI
Jealousy: PART VII, PART VIII, PART IX
Jealousy: PART X, PART XI, PART XII
Jealousy: PART XIII, PART XIV, PART XV
Jealousy: PART XVI, PART XVII, PART XVIII
Jealousy: PART XIX, PART XX, PART XXI
PART XXII
“I’m so excited!” whispered Pansy, as she and Draco were led by a well groomed house elf into the foyer of Lady Fitzpatrick’s home. Draco gave a bored smile and put his hand in the small of her back. Pansy looked up and Draco saw her adopt his uninterested expression, just as a camera went off in their direction.
“Mr Malfoy, Mr Malfoy,” a very short man bustled over, dressed in robes of a deep satin red. “So good to see you. Miss Parkinson, my dear, you look stunning.” He gave an appraising look at the front of Pansy’s dress. “And you, Mr Malfoy, look very striking. Your mother has not been able to make it, I hear?”
“No, Mother is spending these few weeks in France. We have family there.” Draco said smoothly.
“Of course, of course,” the main gave a wry smile. “Such distinguished guests here tonight, such distinguished guests! I hear,” he leant closer to whisper, “I hear Harry Potter is to make an appearance. How exciting! Though,” he quickly took in Draco’s look of faint revulsion, “Though of course, people in your circles don’t associate - Margaret Featherweight!” The man shot Draco a frightened look and scooted off towards a very tall and very thin lady dressed in orange.
Draco steered Pansy over to the large fountain where a group of older ladies were beckoning to him.
“Why, Draco Malfoy!” one exclaimed, holding her eyeglasses up to peer at him. “Well, haven’t you turned out wonderfully! I was just saying to Thelma the other week how all the Malfoy’s manage to look so handsome. And you must be Miss Parkinson, how do you do?” The lady looked her up and down obviously and gave an appreciating smile. “You look lovely, darling. Oh Draco, we simply must chat! My George has had his eye on you since he was a young one!” The ladies around her tittered politely and Draco managed a small smile. George was two years older than Draco and worked for the Ministry in some layman job.
Pansy gave a polite cough as she noticed a woman and two men waving her and Draco over. Draco inclined his head slightly at the women.
“Oh! Sorry to keep you!” said the older lady, “I suppose you’ll want to be doing the rounds then? Draco Malfoy. Such a nice boy,” she said, turning to the other ladies who nodded emphatically. “Such manners! Polite to the people that count and just charming -
Draco found himself being led over to another couple, and another group of people, and another group until finally something of interest happened.
Harry Potter arrived.
As he and Ginny Weasley were led into the chamber, many conversations stopped and many cameras flashed. Draco felt something twist in his abdomen. Potter looked fucking gorgeous. He was dressed in robes that were the deepest of greens and swept regally to the floor. They were tailored to exhibit his athletic height and were drawn in slightly at the waist. His tanned skin looked evident and a thin gold chain encircled his wrist.
Ginny looked, Draco grudgingly admitted, rather striking too. She was dressed in white They were cut in the feminine version of Potter’s, except they dipped low over the cleavage, well, more so than other robes. In her red hair was a gold tiara that shimmered as she moved her head. She looked like a bride and Draco wanted to curse her.
The pair stood at the door for a moment, Potter’s eyes scanning the room, and then there was an onslaught of people as they flocked forward to talk to Harry Potter. Draco felt Pansy stiffen next to him, and then turn pointedly to the young gentleman she had been talking to.
Draco watched Potter manoeuvrer Weasley easily through the crowd of people towards the refreshment table and Lady Fitzpatrick. He saw her laugh in delight at something Potter said and then blush as he leant down and kissed her cheek. He could see the old lady and Ginny exclaim about each other’s choice of clothing, and then Potter say something amusing again. He was still watching him when he felt a persistent tug on his sleeve.
“Draco,” Pansy hissed, “The dinner bell.” Draco shook himself, smiled seductively at a young witch walking past, and mentally shook himself into order. You are Draco Malfoy. You have been attending these functions since you were six. You can talk and charm and make people fall in love with you in a single conversation. You resonate Malfoy. You are the creme de la crème of wizarding aristocracy. Now get your arse out there and mingle!
Draco proceeded to get his arse out there mingle.
PART XXIII
Harry had seen Malfoy as soon as he had walked in the room. The white blond head was painfully visible amongst all the milling people. He stood tall and proud and seemed to just watch lazily people scurry around him.
Harry and Ginny were shown their seats very quickly and to Harry’s dismay he was on the feature table. The table where the most important people sat. Now he would have to smile and laugh and be interested all sodding night. Ginny didn’t seem to see it that way. She was glowing with happiness, her cheeks lightly flushed and her words fast.
As she sat down, Harry took one last look around the dining Hall. It was a large affair with five grand tables placed evenly across the room. The table he and Ginny were at was in the middle and was bathed in the strongest light. People were sitting down on all sides of him and he felt Ginny tug his hand. But Harry couldn’t sit down yet, he couldn’t see Malfoy.
“Potter, are you waiting for a personal invitation to take a seat?”
The drawling voice made Harry’s eyes snap to the place across the table from him. Malfoy and Pansy were sitting down, the house elf drawing out the chairs for both of them. Pansy gave Potter a faint, uninterested smile and turned easily and began to talk to the lady next to her.
Harry took a deep breath and lowered himself to his seat and immediately felt Ginny’s hand slip onto his knee. He brushed it off gently and shook his head. He looked at Malfoy who had immediately been accosted by an old man as he walked past. Malfoy looked totally at ease. He was smiling gracefully and nodding as the other man spoke. When it was his turn, his voice was clipped and poised, as if speaking to the Minister of Education was an everyday affair.
Lady Fitzpatrick was seated a few seats to Harry’s left, next to the Minister for Magic who was laughing heartily at something Lord Fitzpatrick was saying. Harry felt a thump on his shoulder to look into the beaming face of Horrace Slughorn. The man had definitely kept up with the good life, as his waistband seemed to have expanded a couple of inches.
“Harry Potter, m’boy!” he said loudly, causing a few other people to look across. Harry could feel Malfoy’s eyes burning into the back of his head as he stood up to shake hands. “Well, haven’t you turned out nicely! And with Miss Weasley too. A right nice pair if you ask me.” Well, I hadn’t actually, thought Harry dully. “And I’ve heard about your selection into the Montrose Magpies’ line up! Well done, lad, well done. I know Jack Masters quite well, quite well indeed.”
Slughorn wiped his face with a lacy handkerchief and blew out. His small eyes fixed across the table and a grin erupted across his pudgy features.
“Malfoy! Draco Malfoy!” Malfoy looked over from the man he was talking to and nodded coldly. He turned back to his conversation, pointedly ignoring Slughorn. The old man gave a “Hurrumph,” clapped Harry on the shoulder again and waddled off. He most probably remembered the way he had treated Malfoy when he, Slughorn, had taught at Hogwarts.
Ginny leant towards him and whispered, “Hey, do you know when we eat?” Harry shook his head slightly. “And have I said that you look very handsome?” she grinned and Harry couldn’t help but smile back.
“So, Harry Potter, eh?” the man to who left said genially. His hair was very black and he sported an incredibly thick moustache.
“Yes, it’s nice to meet you,” said Harry in return, looking at the golden embroidery around the man’s collar.
“Likewise, tell me, what are your plans after schooling? Planning on working at all?”
Harry was slightly surprised. Of course he was going to work…why wouldn’t he? The man was breaking a roll of bread from the baskets that had appeared in front of him.
“Well, yes.” Said Harry, taking one. “I’m hoping to play Quidditch for a lot longer though.”
“Ah yes,” the man said. “Went to your match I did. Fastest professional catch I’ve ever seen, top effort.” Harry smiled and felt a blush rising into his cheeks. That had been a blatant lie. There had been hundreds of catches under the five minute mark…let alone twelve.
“Thank you,” he said and the man seemed to turn his attention to Malfoy.
“Ah, Draco. And how is your mother?” Malfoy looked up, and Harry felt a turn again in his chest. His eyes were the clearest of blues. He looked quite ethereal.
“She is perfectly fine, thank you Lord Barron. And I notice Lady Barron is not here,” Malfoy paused and the apparent Lord Barron grunted in response. “May I enquire as to her whereabouts?”
Harry looked down at his roll and decided against putting butter on it. He cut along the length, still listening to Malfoy’s lazy drawl.
“She’s in Spain, doing some thing for Elfish welfare. Can’t understand it myself. But, keeps her busy.”
Harry felt Ginny laugh next to him and saw that she was talking to Bill who had come over to the table.
“Is she perhaps looking for interested persons?”
There was a grunt of surprise from Lord Barron.
“Since when is a Malfoy interested in Elfish Welfare?”
Harry looked up to see something slice through Malfoy’s eyes. The Slytherin was looking steadfastly at the man next to Harry.
“I’m not interested in the slightest,” said Malfoy cuttingly. “But I believe Harry here has a friend who is founder of her own branch of charity in the aid of House Elves.”
Lord Barron turned to look at Harry, his eyes skating quickly over his scar. “Is that so? Well, my wife will be pleased. Would I know her perhaps?”
But Harry wasn’t listening.
Malfoy had called him…Harry.
PART XXIV
Potter was leaning against the wall of the massive house, his head thrown back against the giant bricks. His collar was undone and in his left hand he was holding a glass of wine.
Draco silently leant next to him on the wall. Potter didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t react. They stayed there for at least ten minutes, not saying or doing anything. It was only when Draco bent down and took Potter’s wine glass and had a sip, that the Gryffindor reacted at all.
“Malfoy?”
“Hmmmm?”
Potter didn’t say anything. He just took his wine glass back and had a long sip. He seemed to be studying the night sky. Draco decided to do the same. The stars swept their way across the inky black sky and straight ahead was the slimmest of moons.
“Why did you call me Harry?”
Draco tensed. He had known Potter was going to ask. But Draco had also been prepared with an answer.
“It would not be civil, Potter,” he said idly, taking the now half empty win glass out of Potter’s hand again and downing a little. “To refer to you as Potter in the company we were in.”
Potter hesitated and nodded slowly. Draco handed him back the glass and put both hands behind his head, leaning against the wall.
“That’s all?”
“Why else would I call you Harry?”
Potter shrugged and as Draco looked at his shadowed face, what he saw was achingly uneasy. The boy’s face was a picture of perfect and inexplicable sadness.
“I don’t know. I don’t know.”
The Gryffindor sighed and leant his head back against the bricks. Draco saw that the hand gripping the wine glass was trembling slightly.
“Is there something wrong, Potter?”
The boy gave a start and looked quickly at Draco, who stared steadfastedly back at him. The famous face was drawn in a little and there was only the faintest of tinges of colour in his cheeks.
“Why do you want to know?”
Draco felt anger rise up inside his chest. Couldn’t he just ask a question? Why did he have to explain himself to everybody all the goddamn time?
“I don’t really.” He answered cuttingly and took the wine glass from Potter’s hand and downed the rest. “Not at all.”
The Gryffindor looked at his hand and clenched his fist.
“You’re a terrible liar, Malfoy.”
“I’m a brilliant liar, Potter,” snapped Draco, the anger inside him rising even more. “I lie every single day of my life. I lie to Professors. I lie to my mother. I lie to Pansy. And I can fucking well lie to you.”
Potter seemed totally unfazed by Draco’s tone of voice. He just closed his eyes and let the air rush out of his lungs. The silence seemed to stretch forever as Draco watched Potter breathe deeply, his hands thrust low into the pockets of his dress robes.
“You can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Lie to me.”
“Why not?”
Potter suddenly started up from the wall. He moved so fast that Draco only had a moment to straighten before he was standing directly in front of him, his glasses reflecting Draco’s own eyes. He was so close.
“Because,” the hot breath that ghosted over Draco’s face sent shivers straight to his groin. And to his absolute dismay, he felt a stirring there. “Because, I know almost exactly what you’re saying, and I know exactly what you’re feeling.”
Potter held his position, inches from Draco’s face for a moment longer, before a slow, lopsided smile slipped across his lips and he stepped back. Draco didn’t say anything as Harry Potter rightened his robes, shaking out the creases and straightening his collar. He swiftly took back the wine glass from Draco’s fingers. It was only then that Draco could force out something from his lips.
“You don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Know exactly what I’m feeling.”
Potter looked at him. The smile still lingering on his face. He looked so beautiful there, that Draco just wanted to reach out and touch him. He wanted to slip his hand across the smooth cheek and his thumb across the chapped lips. He wanted to press his body against his and wrap his arms around the slim waist.
“Okay then, but don’t tell me that Malfoy’s don’t have feelings. Because remember,” Potter stretched towards the stars and began to walk slowly across the gravel back to the lights and music of the party. “That you can’t lie to me.”
And Draco felt panic sweep across his frame because a moment later…
Potter was gone.
~~~
Author's Notes: AAAHHHH, THEY SPOKE A BIT! THEY HAD A MOMENT! *breathes* So, whatcha think? I know, I did promise some Harry/Charlie...but not in this fic. What I've done is actually write a seperate ficlet/one-shot thingo with Harry/Charlie and it's very, very NC-17. So, if you want to read it? You're gonna have to leave a comment and tell me...
IT WAS ALL A PLAN! A PLAN FOR REVIEWS!
*an evil laugh...and then a lame cough.*
Jess
Want to like...check me out...the next bit?
Author: laughs_muses (fic journal)
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13, PG-13, PG-13
Disclaimer: No, none of these characters are mine. If they were mine I wouldn’t be working absurd hours in a coffee shop, now would I? Nup, I’d be cruising around in my Merc with little HP flags on the bonnet and…*dreams*
Summary: Draco and Pansy go to the dinner party...Harry and Ginny go to the dinner party...and Harry and Draco have a MOMENT...A MOMENT!
Set: Lady Fitzpatrick's manor
Beta: None, aggggaaaiiinnn.
Authors Notes: So here we are again...just you and me...you and me. HOORAY FOR WESTERNS. I know, this plot is excruciatingly slow...but I'm trying to be as realistic as I can. Now, I have a seperate surprise for those who wanted to see some Harry/Charlie...
Jealousy: PART I
Jealousy: PART II
Jealousy: PART III
Jealousy: PART IV
Jealousy: PART V, PART VI
Jealousy: PART VII, PART VIII, PART IX
Jealousy: PART X, PART XI, PART XII
Jealousy: PART XIII, PART XIV, PART XV
Jealousy: PART XVI, PART XVII, PART XVIII
Jealousy: PART XIX, PART XX, PART XXI
PART XXII
“I’m so excited!” whispered Pansy, as she and Draco were led by a well groomed house elf into the foyer of Lady Fitzpatrick’s home. Draco gave a bored smile and put his hand in the small of her back. Pansy looked up and Draco saw her adopt his uninterested expression, just as a camera went off in their direction.
“Mr Malfoy, Mr Malfoy,” a very short man bustled over, dressed in robes of a deep satin red. “So good to see you. Miss Parkinson, my dear, you look stunning.” He gave an appraising look at the front of Pansy’s dress. “And you, Mr Malfoy, look very striking. Your mother has not been able to make it, I hear?”
“No, Mother is spending these few weeks in France. We have family there.” Draco said smoothly.
“Of course, of course,” the main gave a wry smile. “Such distinguished guests here tonight, such distinguished guests! I hear,” he leant closer to whisper, “I hear Harry Potter is to make an appearance. How exciting! Though,” he quickly took in Draco’s look of faint revulsion, “Though of course, people in your circles don’t associate - Margaret Featherweight!” The man shot Draco a frightened look and scooted off towards a very tall and very thin lady dressed in orange.
Draco steered Pansy over to the large fountain where a group of older ladies were beckoning to him.
“Why, Draco Malfoy!” one exclaimed, holding her eyeglasses up to peer at him. “Well, haven’t you turned out wonderfully! I was just saying to Thelma the other week how all the Malfoy’s manage to look so handsome. And you must be Miss Parkinson, how do you do?” The lady looked her up and down obviously and gave an appreciating smile. “You look lovely, darling. Oh Draco, we simply must chat! My George has had his eye on you since he was a young one!” The ladies around her tittered politely and Draco managed a small smile. George was two years older than Draco and worked for the Ministry in some layman job.
Pansy gave a polite cough as she noticed a woman and two men waving her and Draco over. Draco inclined his head slightly at the women.
“Oh! Sorry to keep you!” said the older lady, “I suppose you’ll want to be doing the rounds then? Draco Malfoy. Such a nice boy,” she said, turning to the other ladies who nodded emphatically. “Such manners! Polite to the people that count and just charming -
Draco found himself being led over to another couple, and another group of people, and another group until finally something of interest happened.
Harry Potter arrived.
As he and Ginny Weasley were led into the chamber, many conversations stopped and many cameras flashed. Draco felt something twist in his abdomen. Potter looked fucking gorgeous. He was dressed in robes that were the deepest of greens and swept regally to the floor. They were tailored to exhibit his athletic height and were drawn in slightly at the waist. His tanned skin looked evident and a thin gold chain encircled his wrist.
Ginny looked, Draco grudgingly admitted, rather striking too. She was dressed in white They were cut in the feminine version of Potter’s, except they dipped low over the cleavage, well, more so than other robes. In her red hair was a gold tiara that shimmered as she moved her head. She looked like a bride and Draco wanted to curse her.
The pair stood at the door for a moment, Potter’s eyes scanning the room, and then there was an onslaught of people as they flocked forward to talk to Harry Potter. Draco felt Pansy stiffen next to him, and then turn pointedly to the young gentleman she had been talking to.
Draco watched Potter manoeuvrer Weasley easily through the crowd of people towards the refreshment table and Lady Fitzpatrick. He saw her laugh in delight at something Potter said and then blush as he leant down and kissed her cheek. He could see the old lady and Ginny exclaim about each other’s choice of clothing, and then Potter say something amusing again. He was still watching him when he felt a persistent tug on his sleeve.
“Draco,” Pansy hissed, “The dinner bell.” Draco shook himself, smiled seductively at a young witch walking past, and mentally shook himself into order. You are Draco Malfoy. You have been attending these functions since you were six. You can talk and charm and make people fall in love with you in a single conversation. You resonate Malfoy. You are the creme de la crème of wizarding aristocracy. Now get your arse out there and mingle!
Draco proceeded to get his arse out there mingle.
PART XXIII
Harry had seen Malfoy as soon as he had walked in the room. The white blond head was painfully visible amongst all the milling people. He stood tall and proud and seemed to just watch lazily people scurry around him.
Harry and Ginny were shown their seats very quickly and to Harry’s dismay he was on the feature table. The table where the most important people sat. Now he would have to smile and laugh and be interested all sodding night. Ginny didn’t seem to see it that way. She was glowing with happiness, her cheeks lightly flushed and her words fast.
As she sat down, Harry took one last look around the dining Hall. It was a large affair with five grand tables placed evenly across the room. The table he and Ginny were at was in the middle and was bathed in the strongest light. People were sitting down on all sides of him and he felt Ginny tug his hand. But Harry couldn’t sit down yet, he couldn’t see Malfoy.
“Potter, are you waiting for a personal invitation to take a seat?”
The drawling voice made Harry’s eyes snap to the place across the table from him. Malfoy and Pansy were sitting down, the house elf drawing out the chairs for both of them. Pansy gave Potter a faint, uninterested smile and turned easily and began to talk to the lady next to her.
Harry took a deep breath and lowered himself to his seat and immediately felt Ginny’s hand slip onto his knee. He brushed it off gently and shook his head. He looked at Malfoy who had immediately been accosted by an old man as he walked past. Malfoy looked totally at ease. He was smiling gracefully and nodding as the other man spoke. When it was his turn, his voice was clipped and poised, as if speaking to the Minister of Education was an everyday affair.
Lady Fitzpatrick was seated a few seats to Harry’s left, next to the Minister for Magic who was laughing heartily at something Lord Fitzpatrick was saying. Harry felt a thump on his shoulder to look into the beaming face of Horrace Slughorn. The man had definitely kept up with the good life, as his waistband seemed to have expanded a couple of inches.
“Harry Potter, m’boy!” he said loudly, causing a few other people to look across. Harry could feel Malfoy’s eyes burning into the back of his head as he stood up to shake hands. “Well, haven’t you turned out nicely! And with Miss Weasley too. A right nice pair if you ask me.” Well, I hadn’t actually, thought Harry dully. “And I’ve heard about your selection into the Montrose Magpies’ line up! Well done, lad, well done. I know Jack Masters quite well, quite well indeed.”
Slughorn wiped his face with a lacy handkerchief and blew out. His small eyes fixed across the table and a grin erupted across his pudgy features.
“Malfoy! Draco Malfoy!” Malfoy looked over from the man he was talking to and nodded coldly. He turned back to his conversation, pointedly ignoring Slughorn. The old man gave a “Hurrumph,” clapped Harry on the shoulder again and waddled off. He most probably remembered the way he had treated Malfoy when he, Slughorn, had taught at Hogwarts.
Ginny leant towards him and whispered, “Hey, do you know when we eat?” Harry shook his head slightly. “And have I said that you look very handsome?” she grinned and Harry couldn’t help but smile back.
“So, Harry Potter, eh?” the man to who left said genially. His hair was very black and he sported an incredibly thick moustache.
“Yes, it’s nice to meet you,” said Harry in return, looking at the golden embroidery around the man’s collar.
“Likewise, tell me, what are your plans after schooling? Planning on working at all?”
Harry was slightly surprised. Of course he was going to work…why wouldn’t he? The man was breaking a roll of bread from the baskets that had appeared in front of him.
“Well, yes.” Said Harry, taking one. “I’m hoping to play Quidditch for a lot longer though.”
“Ah yes,” the man said. “Went to your match I did. Fastest professional catch I’ve ever seen, top effort.” Harry smiled and felt a blush rising into his cheeks. That had been a blatant lie. There had been hundreds of catches under the five minute mark…let alone twelve.
“Thank you,” he said and the man seemed to turn his attention to Malfoy.
“Ah, Draco. And how is your mother?” Malfoy looked up, and Harry felt a turn again in his chest. His eyes were the clearest of blues. He looked quite ethereal.
“She is perfectly fine, thank you Lord Barron. And I notice Lady Barron is not here,” Malfoy paused and the apparent Lord Barron grunted in response. “May I enquire as to her whereabouts?”
Harry looked down at his roll and decided against putting butter on it. He cut along the length, still listening to Malfoy’s lazy drawl.
“She’s in Spain, doing some thing for Elfish welfare. Can’t understand it myself. But, keeps her busy.”
Harry felt Ginny laugh next to him and saw that she was talking to Bill who had come over to the table.
“Is she perhaps looking for interested persons?”
There was a grunt of surprise from Lord Barron.
“Since when is a Malfoy interested in Elfish Welfare?”
Harry looked up to see something slice through Malfoy’s eyes. The Slytherin was looking steadfastly at the man next to Harry.
“I’m not interested in the slightest,” said Malfoy cuttingly. “But I believe Harry here has a friend who is founder of her own branch of charity in the aid of House Elves.”
Lord Barron turned to look at Harry, his eyes skating quickly over his scar. “Is that so? Well, my wife will be pleased. Would I know her perhaps?”
But Harry wasn’t listening.
Malfoy had called him…Harry.
PART XXIV
Potter was leaning against the wall of the massive house, his head thrown back against the giant bricks. His collar was undone and in his left hand he was holding a glass of wine.
Draco silently leant next to him on the wall. Potter didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t react. They stayed there for at least ten minutes, not saying or doing anything. It was only when Draco bent down and took Potter’s wine glass and had a sip, that the Gryffindor reacted at all.
“Malfoy?”
“Hmmmm?”
Potter didn’t say anything. He just took his wine glass back and had a long sip. He seemed to be studying the night sky. Draco decided to do the same. The stars swept their way across the inky black sky and straight ahead was the slimmest of moons.
“Why did you call me Harry?”
Draco tensed. He had known Potter was going to ask. But Draco had also been prepared with an answer.
“It would not be civil, Potter,” he said idly, taking the now half empty win glass out of Potter’s hand again and downing a little. “To refer to you as Potter in the company we were in.”
Potter hesitated and nodded slowly. Draco handed him back the glass and put both hands behind his head, leaning against the wall.
“That’s all?”
“Why else would I call you Harry?”
Potter shrugged and as Draco looked at his shadowed face, what he saw was achingly uneasy. The boy’s face was a picture of perfect and inexplicable sadness.
“I don’t know. I don’t know.”
The Gryffindor sighed and leant his head back against the bricks. Draco saw that the hand gripping the wine glass was trembling slightly.
“Is there something wrong, Potter?”
The boy gave a start and looked quickly at Draco, who stared steadfastedly back at him. The famous face was drawn in a little and there was only the faintest of tinges of colour in his cheeks.
“Why do you want to know?”
Draco felt anger rise up inside his chest. Couldn’t he just ask a question? Why did he have to explain himself to everybody all the goddamn time?
“I don’t really.” He answered cuttingly and took the wine glass from Potter’s hand and downed the rest. “Not at all.”
The Gryffindor looked at his hand and clenched his fist.
“You’re a terrible liar, Malfoy.”
“I’m a brilliant liar, Potter,” snapped Draco, the anger inside him rising even more. “I lie every single day of my life. I lie to Professors. I lie to my mother. I lie to Pansy. And I can fucking well lie to you.”
Potter seemed totally unfazed by Draco’s tone of voice. He just closed his eyes and let the air rush out of his lungs. The silence seemed to stretch forever as Draco watched Potter breathe deeply, his hands thrust low into the pockets of his dress robes.
“You can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Lie to me.”
“Why not?”
Potter suddenly started up from the wall. He moved so fast that Draco only had a moment to straighten before he was standing directly in front of him, his glasses reflecting Draco’s own eyes. He was so close.
“Because,” the hot breath that ghosted over Draco’s face sent shivers straight to his groin. And to his absolute dismay, he felt a stirring there. “Because, I know almost exactly what you’re saying, and I know exactly what you’re feeling.”
Potter held his position, inches from Draco’s face for a moment longer, before a slow, lopsided smile slipped across his lips and he stepped back. Draco didn’t say anything as Harry Potter rightened his robes, shaking out the creases and straightening his collar. He swiftly took back the wine glass from Draco’s fingers. It was only then that Draco could force out something from his lips.
“You don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Know exactly what I’m feeling.”
Potter looked at him. The smile still lingering on his face. He looked so beautiful there, that Draco just wanted to reach out and touch him. He wanted to slip his hand across the smooth cheek and his thumb across the chapped lips. He wanted to press his body against his and wrap his arms around the slim waist.
“Okay then, but don’t tell me that Malfoy’s don’t have feelings. Because remember,” Potter stretched towards the stars and began to walk slowly across the gravel back to the lights and music of the party. “That you can’t lie to me.”
And Draco felt panic sweep across his frame because a moment later…
Potter was gone.
~~~
Author's Notes: AAAHHHH, THEY SPOKE A BIT! THEY HAD A MOMENT! *breathes* So, whatcha think? I know, I did promise some Harry/Charlie...but not in this fic. What I've done is actually write a seperate ficlet/one-shot thingo with Harry/Charlie and it's very, very NC-17. So, if you want to read it? You're gonna have to leave a comment and tell me...
IT WAS ALL A PLAN! A PLAN FOR REVIEWS!
*an evil laugh...and then a lame cough.*
Jess
Want to like...check me out...the next bit?