Title: With The Drop Of A Fork

Author: CrimsonSnowflake

Warning: There is Slash in this story, for those of you who don't like it I suggest for you to leave.

Disclaimer:Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling, all the copyrights associated with Harry Potter belongs to her. Only the ideas contained within this story is the property of the author. No profit is being made by the writer of this story.

A/N: Okay, so this is an idea that I came up with that I just had to get out of my head, having it in my head disturbed the progress I have with my other story and as such I figured it would be best to just get it over and done with and write it down. Anyway, because Fighting Another War is my out-most priority when it comes to my stories the updates will probably be slow, I hope you all can deal with that and be patient with me. I hope you enjoy and please leave a review to tell me how you find the beginning! :D

"Trouble is part of your life, and if you don't share it, you don't give the person who loves you enough chance to love you enough." - Dinah Shore

Chapter 1:

Drop It

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was out, shining like no other on the cloudless sky. Birds were flying about, singing in the same cheerful manner they did every morning. His pillow was as fluffy as ever, he concluded while nuzzling his face further into the soft fabric. Inhaling the scent of newly washed sheets. Warmth surrounded him on every edges as he lay cocooned in his own blanket, the cloth securely twisted around him in a way that made it quite clear that at some duration of the night he'd been tossing and turning. There was a peaceful air surrounding him and not even Ron's outrageously loud snores could shake him out of it.

The sound of someone shuffling around caught his attention. One green eye, still heavy with sleep, slowly opened. Almost lazily Harry took in his familiar surroundings, the five thick crimson rugs on the floor, the bed to his right containing his best friend and the cold stone walls littered with various posters, one rather prominent with a moving picture of the Chudley Cannons. Once again a noise rose in the air, this one a very imaginative, though muffled, curse.

His other eye, copying the movements previously made by its twin, opened. A quiet sigh escaped the confines of his mouth, acting as a testimony of his reluctance to completely leave the world of dreams. Untangling himself from the sheets he rolled over onto his back before pushing himself up to rest in his elbows. The white quilt pooling around his waist and leaving his chest bare, causing his nipples to tighten as the cold air washed over him. He erupted out into a large yawn.

"Morning Harry." Dean's deep voice greeted him as the dark skinned boy, leaning on the floor and reaching under the bed, grunted in satisfaction. A triumphant smile stretched across his face as he drew out his hand, his prize tightly clutched in it. The young man had managed to retrieve one out of two socks.

"Good morning." Harry returned, running a hand through his already tousled hair. "What time is it?"

Instead of replying Dean drew his wand, lazily waving it and muttering a quiet incantation, causing red numbers to appear in the air, before resuming the hunt of his second sock. 7:30 AM the numbers said. Only 30 minutes until breakfast began then, he thought. With that in mind he rose from bed, the quilt dropping down to the mattress in a fluttering caress. Clad in pyjama bottoms and a too large t-shirt, graciously provided to him by the Dursley's, that hung off his right shoulder he made his way to the bathroom.

Closing the door behind him he grabbed a hold of a fluffy white towel, hanging it on the towel rack before stripping and heading straight for the shower. Green eyes closed in relish as warm water cascaded down his body, wetting his hair and effectively soaking him from top to toe. After just standing there for a few minutes, allowing the warm water to soothe his muscles he reached for the soap, grabbed a sponge and lathered it up. With slow movements he washed his body, running the sponge across his arms, down his stomach to his feet. Dropping the sponge he rinsed off before reaching out to grab his shampoo. With a quiet click the top opened, giving way to the spicy scent of lavender. Ignoring the girly scent, as Ron would have put it, of his shampoo he squeezed some of it out into his hand before reaching up to rub it into his hair and scalp. When finished he immediately ducked his head under the spray of water, staying there until he was sure any trace of the shampoo was gone.

With a twist of his wrist he turned the knob, successfully stopping the stream of water. Dripping with the rapidly cooling liquid he snatched the towel from the rack before quickly drying himself and wrapping it around his waist. Secure in the knowledge that he was relatively dry he moved out of the bathroom and back into his room.

The situation in the dorm was unchanged. Dean was still searching the room for his missing sock, Seamus and Neville was still hidden from view by the curtains drawn closed around their bed and Ron was still snoring so loud that he could have awakened the dead. With quiet steps he moved towards his own bed, making sure the towel was secured before bowing down and opening his suitcase. At a speed and with such carelessness, which would have horrified the female population of the Gryffindor house, he threw on the school uniform, not caring that his shirt wasn't properly tucked in and that his tie was slightly crooked.

"I'll be going down from breakfast," He said, one hand on the doorknob, ready to turn it and head out into the common room. "Do me a favour and wake Ron before breakfast is done, will you?"

"Sure, sure." Dean absently replied as he bent down to search under Seamus' bed.

Without further ado, Harry twisted the doorknob, made his way down through the common room, down the many moving staircases until he finally reached the large wooden doors of the Great Hall. With flat hands he pushed the doors open wincing at the loud creaking sound they created. Green eyes scanned the room as he took a step inside. The Hall was nearly empty, save for a couple of Ravenclaws and Gryffindor's very own Hermione Granger. The bushy haired girl could barely be seen over the edge of the large book she was reading. Long, slender fingers grabbed a hold of a page ever so often in order to turn it and reveal the many words on the next one.

Easily, he made his way towards the Gryffindor table, a fond smile spreading across his face as his friend hastily sipped at her tea, almost as if she barely had time for the drink. The distinctive scent of earl grey filled his nostrils.

"You're up early." The witch commented as he took a seat right across from her.

"Yeah." He simply agreed, grabbing a toast and buttering it up before taking a bite.

Nothing more was said and they both settled for eating in silence. Just as he did every morning Harry poured himself a glass of Pumpkin juice, preferring cold rather than warm beverage in the morning. And, as usual, a tray of egg and bacon appeared before him as soon as he'd finished with his toast. It was all perfectly timed and he couldn't help but to be in awe of the house elves' skill and preciseness.

By the time he had served himself to the food, several people, mostly Ravenclaws and Slytherins, had joined them in the Hall and the buzzing of voices immediately increased. With an aggravated huff Hermione gently closed her book, wistfully caressing its cover before stacking it away in her book bag. The silence she so coveted when reading her precious books was all but gone, having been chased away the moment the students began filing in the door. She was forced to retreat from the world of literature and join reality once again. So, due to the loss of her reading material she took the first step and broke the silence between them.

"Did you have a good nights sleep? You didn't have any nightmares, did you?"

"I slept fine, better than I have in ages." He replied before skewering a piece of bacon with his fork and guiding it to his mouth.

"Good, I hope—" She suddenly stopped speaking, looking over his right shoulder at something behind him. A glint of intrigue and wonder appeared in her honey brown eyes as she brought her thumb up to her mouth in order to nibble at the nail as she so often did when considering something. It had been occurring more often ever since the welcoming feast and Harry turned inquiring green eyes upon her.

"Something the matter?" He questioned.

"He's doing it again." Hermione whispered, words probably not meant for him to hear if the way she was ignoring him was an indicator.

"Who's doing what?"

"What? Oh, nothing," She hastily said, brown eyes darting back to face his as if she had been forced out of some sort of trance. "Nothing at all."

One dark eyebrow raised in disbelief but he chose, to the relief of his friend, to let the subject pass and resumed devouring his breakfast. He ignored the sudden urge to turn around and find whatever it was that Hermione was so consumed in observing. Knowing the young witch he didn't want to know what it was.

"Morning Harry, Hermione." Came from his right as Ron, with sleep laden eyes, sat down without any grace whatsoever. The bench creaked and complained at the red head's weight.

"Morning Ron," Harry replied, both for himself and the girl sitting in front of them, she was too busy observing, it seemed.

Nothing more was said as his friend immediately began stuffing his face with food. The usual display of a complete lack of table manners did nothing to upset Harry, it happened every morning and had become routine. He was so used to it that he had a rather dispassionate response to it, the disgust he had reacted with in first place was as good as gone.

"Ron," Hermione snapped, still not moving her eyes to look at them but aware of their actions nonetheless. "Eat with your mouth closed, it's disgusting having to watch as you massacre your food."

Too sleepy to react in his usual manner Ron merely obeyed and closed his mouth while chewing.

The volume in the Great Hall drastically increased as a large group of Gryffindors followed by a couple of timid Hufflepuffs entered. The group, led by Dean, Seamus and Neville immediately steered their way, each taking a seat by the table before serving themselves to the food and digging in.

"Harry," Hermione suddenly called, drawing his attention away from the fascinating show Ron and Seamus made as the competed in shovelling food into their mouth. "Could you do me a favour?"

"What?"

"Drop your fork on the floor and bow down to get it." A mischievous glint appeared in the girl's eyes.

"Why?" Harry incredulously asked, looking at his friend as if he had never seen her before.

"Because, I need to check something. Now, go on, drop it." The way in which she said it forced a shiver out of him. Those words could be taken in an extremely wrong and disturbing way.

With a sigh he pretended to drop his fork on accident, rising from his seat and bending forward in order to retrieve it. A flush spread across his cheeks as Seamus, having swallowed the food in his mouth, released a teasing whistle.

"Shut up," He complained, his voice nearly a whine.

The Irishman sent him a cocky grin in return, abandoning his food and rising from his seat in favour of moving closer to Harry. One arm swung out and wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him into the other as Seamus leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I know a good way of shutting me up, all it takes is you, me and an empty classroom." As if to make it even more obvious what he was talking about, Seamus lightly ran his tongue over the shell of his ear and blew a stream of warm breath at the saliva he'd left behind.

A loud squeak erupted from Harry as he immediately tore away from the other, running to the other side of the table and standing behind Hermione as if to use her as a shield.

"Honestly, Seamus." Hermione chided, sending the Irishman a disapproving look. "Stop teasing him."

"Now now, Hermione." Seamus shot back, lazily grinning at the girl as he watched Harry with the eyes of a predator. "Harry's a grown man, I'm sure he's capable of telling me himself if he doesn't like it."

"You know as well as I do, Seamus Finnigan, that even if Harry was to tell you such a thing you still wouldn't give up." As she said this, the muggleborn gently coaxed Harry into taking a seat beside her, glaring at the taller Gryffindor in a clear warning. "Now why don't you sit down and leave poor Harry alone, hmm?"

Had it not been for the fact that he truly didn't know how to handle the Irishman Harry would have been rather embarrassed due to the fact that Hermione had to stand up for him where he himself couldn't. But as it was, he was way too relieved at having escaped Seamus' ministrations to particularly care. Keeping a suspicious gaze on his molester Harry leaned over in order to whisper into Hermione's ear. "What was the whole bending down scene about anyway?"

"You just proved a theory of mine, that's all." Hermione answered, not relinquishing any information as she slyly looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"And what theory might that be?"

"Draco Malfoy's got the hots for you." She bluntly stated.

Green eyes widened, his mouth dropped open and he nearly fell out of his seat in surprise. "You can't be serious!"

As it turned out, Hermione had been very serious. And in her seriousness she had ruined him. He didn't know what to think any more. Every time he was in the same room as the Slytherin he caught himself looking at him, searching for some sort of sign that Hermione had been right. More often than not he ended up empty handed. Nothing about the blond indicated that he harboured some sort of attraction for Harry. Not the way he spoke, nor the way he moved and hardly the way in which he gazed at him. Aggression was the main element in Malfoy's grey eyes each time they crossed paths with his own. There was no indication whatsoever of Malfoy, in Hermione's well spoken words, having the hots for him.

A sigh, the fourth one since the class had begun, escaped the confines of his mouth. He shuffled forward in his seat, placing his elbows on the desk before him as he rested his face in the palm of his hands. He was probably giving it too much thought than it was worth. The very idea of Malfoy being attracted to him in any way was absolutely preposterous and the fact that he was thinking about it was even more ridiculous. It seemed that Hermione had planted a seed, one he was unable to destroy.

"Am I boring you, Mr. Potter?" Snape's menacing voice drawled as the man loomed over him in a threatening manner. "Or is it just that my lessons are too advanced for your mediocre brain to grasp? I rather think that after seven years I would have been able to drill at least a sliver of knowledge into that thick skull of yours."

"Of course not, Professor," Harry answered, gritting his teeth in order to stop the string of insults begging to be released from his mouth as he straightened up. "I'm all ears."

"Really?" The man sneered, looking down his large, hooked nose at him. "Then tell me, when making a wit-sharpening potion, which would do wonders for you I'm sure, is the ginger root to be sliced, cut or ground?"

"Sliced, sir?" He guessed, wincing at the triumphant smirk that immediately spread across Snape's face at his answer.

"I believe we should all be thankful that we aren't brewing that particular potion now, shouldn't we? I don't think any of us could handle Potter at a stupider level than he already is at. Slicing the ginger root will reverse the potion's effect, you silly boy. It is to be cut." With a graceful movement Snape turned away from him to walk back up to the blackboard, his robes billowing behind him in a manner entirely Snape. And, just for good measure, he tossed over his shoulder. "Five points from Gryffindor for incompetence."

A furious hiss from his right alerted him of Ron's displeasure, and when he turned to look at the redhead the glare directed at the professor's back only served to strengthen the image of that vexation. "Bastard." Harry heard him whisper and he had to cover his mouth in order to keep the small smile lingering there from showing.

"Now that I have all of your attention," He pointedly glared at Harry as he said this. "You can all turn to page 172. We are not brewing anything today as I am not in the mood to deal with your blundering attempts at producing a simple potion that even a five year-old could manage. I expect notes to be taken as this will be important for the next lesson."

Behind him he could hear Hermione reading her notebook and her quill. And so, in a boring monotone voice, Snape began talking about fluxweed and its many uses in the makings of potions. When the professor finally let them go, he did so with a final sneer directed at Harry before moving towards a door in the far right corner, most likely his private rooms. A yawn grabbed a hold of him as Harry rose from his seat. His body was taut with muscles as he reached up into the air with his arms, stretching his body with a content groan. Something, or rather someone, solid bumped into him, disturbing his balance and forcing him to grab a hold of them in order to keep from falling to the floor.

Green eyes connected with swirling grey and a deep voice tinged with annoyance said, "Watch where you're going Potter."

"Me?" He questioned, hastily moving away from the taller male, praying to god that the blush he was fighting so fiercely didn't show on his face. "You are the one who bumped into me, Malfoy."

A sneer, one Harry had gotten so used to over the years that it was unusual not to see it on the blond's face, was sent his way. Without another word the Slytherin simply brushed past him, deliberately bumping into him with his shoulder while ignoring him as if Harry wasn't worth his time. Going against all his usual reactions Harry allowed the other to pass him, holding back the urge to run after him and force Malfoy to insult him. However strange it seemed it unnerved him that the blond had strayed away from their usual banter of snide comments and hurtful insults.

"It's quite unusual, isn't it?" Hermione said as she came up behind him, Ron joining them a mere second later.

"What is?" The redhead questioned as he followed the girl's gaze to Harry.

"Malfoy walking away from the opportunity to start a fight with Harry." There was a triumphant glint in her eyes as she explained this, as if she had won some kind of award.

"It is." Harry absent-mindedly confirmed, still looking in the direction in which the Slytherin had disappeared. His green eyes were glazed over in thought.

"Although," The clever witch slyly added. "It has been happening a lot more lately, hasn't it?"

"It has."

A small smile stretched across Hermione's face as she moved forward, grabbed a hold of his arm and gently guided him into a slow walk. "I wonder why that is..."

The way in which she said those words spoke quite clearly of how Hermione didn't wonder about it at all. She knew exactly why, or at least she thought she did. And it couldn't have been more obvious to Harry that she did if she had shouted it for all in Hogwarts to hear her.

"Oh I'm sure you do." Harry replied, sending a tame glare in her direction as they walked through the many corridors in Hogwarts.

"Is there something I'm missing here?" Ron inquired, his blue eyes narrowed in a suspicious manner as he looked at the two.

"No," He said, tightening the grip he had on his book bag as he slung it over his shoulder. "Hermione's just trying to prove a point that shouldn't be proved."

"Ah, but wouldn't it be fun if my point is right? All your Seamus problems would be solved as well." A teasing smirk lit up her face.

He stiffened, extracting his arm from Hermione's grip as he turned to sternly look at the other. "Let's talk about this another time, shall we? Sometime when we're not in a crowded hallway."

"Fine, tonight then." She said before parting ways with them, heading for her arithmancy class whereas Harry and Ron was stuck with divination.

"Care to tell me what that was all about?" Ron asked as they turned right, moving up the stairs towards the divination tower.

"Apparently," Harry whispered, moving closer to his friend in order to keep any eavesdroppers from hearing his words. "Malfoy is attracted to me."

"Really?" The red head chuckled, slinging one arm over Harry's shoulders in a companionable way. "How did she come up with that one?"

"She had me drop my fork and bend over, it seems that that was all it took." He dryly answered.