bWeeping Willow/b By Dreamsplinter
Length: one chapter out of several to come
Rating: G for the moment. This story will not be NC17. Sorry folks. Porn it is not, but love story it will be.
Obligatory Warning: This is slash fiction. Meaning two members of the same sex in love. It is not pornography, just a love story between two characters you already know.
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the Harry Potter universe. Well, except for this humble eking of a slashfic. These characters are not mine, but it was very, very tempting to steal them away for a while. I'll bring 'em back. I promise! //looks innocent//
Summary: Harry watches Draco swimming in the lake from the safety of a weeping willow tree. The story gets moving from there. But don't leave! There's more to the plot, I swear.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The autumn sun hovered cheerily just over the horizon, flushing scattered clouds a tickled pink and gently warming the stones of Hogwarts castle. The sun had risen not too long ago, so most students and faculty were still abed. Most, save two.
Harry Potter, one usually so calm and unruffled, hadn't slept a wink the entire night previous. His footsteps were slow and meandering as he swished through the uncut grass down by the lake. His sights were set on a large, morose willow tree, with every intention of finally reading the letter Sirius had sent him, in private. But if he had looked up from his shoe tops for more than an instant, he would have noticed the other sole conscious being on the grounds at that moment. He reached the willow, climbed into a comfortable spot, and started to read.
In the meantime, Draco Malfoy was fighting for his life. Cold lake water filled his ears, pressed in on his vision, and once again made him wonder (not for the first time) why he put himself through this torture every morning. He gave an inward shrug, figuring there could be worse ways to stay in shape. Draco's pale arms cut through the surface of the water in steady, fluid motions, pulling him closer to shore.
A soft splashing from the lake caught Harry's attention, and he put down Sirius' letter to peek through the willow branches in curiosity.
Draco came up from under the water, cutting through its reflective surface like a knife. His toes brushed the bottom, kicking up little clouds of sediment as he emerged from the lake. His dripping form was covered by only a black racing swimsuit, which gave sharp contrast to pale skin and platinum blond hair. Harry couldn't help but notice that for one so thin, Malfoy had surprisingly good muscle definition. //Must be the Quidditch,// Harry mused, then chastised himself for even looking in the first place. The blond boy shook his hair out vigorously, sending crystal droplets flying every which way, and picked up his towel from where he had deposited it in the sand about half an hour earlier. Apparently headed for a hot shower and a good preening, Malfoy stalked off in the direction of the boy's locker room.
Above the rustling of willow leaves, Harry's ears picked out the faint sound of owl cries. Morning Post, and breakfast would be starting soon enough. Stretching his stiff arms, (and nearly falling out of the tree) Harry got down and trudged in the direction of the castle, with Sirius' letter still unread.
The Great Hall was a flurry of activity in the morning as students inhaled a hasty breakfast, socialized, or in some cases did the homework due within the next hour or so. Above all this hubbub, Harry mentioned casually to his friends,
"Guess who I saw in the lake this morning?"
Hermione was all ears in an instant, but Ron took a few pokes before he was anywhere near alert.
"Honestly, Ron, you're going to fall asleep in your oatmeal at this rate," Hermione sniffed.
Ron grunted in reply, but said to Harry, "Who was it?"
"Eh, nobody really, just Malfoy. Dunno what he thought he was doing, swimming at the crack of dawn."
"Maybe he'll do us all a favor and drown," Ron interjected, prompting a roll of the eyes from Hermione, who responded,
"I guess he just wants to stay in good shape, or maybe it's stress relief, I read this article about exercise the other day and how it helps things like depression--"
"Oh come on Hermione, it's too early for this--"
"Hey! It might do you good to know these things sometime, you know--"
Harry just laughed as his two best friends dissolved into hopeless bickering yet again. They continued for a while, until Hermione asked,
"Why were you up so early, Harry?"
The boy in question just shrugged, raking his fingers through unruly black locks, "Just couldn't sleep I guess. Having wicked bad dreams lately."
Both Hermione and Ron looked alarmed at this. Ron ventured, "Uh, Harry, remember the last time this happened? You don't think it's." Hermione bit her lip and looked concerned.
"No really, don't worry. Probably something I ate." His jade eyes were anywhere but on his friends.
"For a whole week? Honestly Harry--" The bushy haired girl began.
"Really, Herm. Trust me. If it gets bad, I'll go to Madame Pomfrey or something," Harry's smile didn't reach his eyes.
//Don't worry, guys, I'll be fine. Really.//
The morning bell rang, signaling the start of another school day, and the Dynamic Trio didn't have much time to think as any worries were swept away by the sudden rush of people headed to class.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco Malfoy had taken his usual seat at the very back of the Potions classroom, allowing himself to enjoy watching the looks on the Gryffindors' faces as they trooped into the dank smelling dungeon for the last class of the day. As usual, Potter and Weasley were late. Professor Snape swooped on the two of them like a smug version of the grim reaper, taking ten points from gryffindor in his wake. Draco smirked, but his smirk turned to a genuine frown when Snape announced,
"Well Mister Potter, since we cannot come to class on time, perhaps you will have better luck keeping up with Mister Malfoy. You could learn a few things from him."
Jade eyes met silver with an almost tangible flicker of electricity, and the entire class was tuned in to see how this odd pairing would pan out. But the raven-haired boy surprised everyone by gathering up his books and calmly sitting in the empty seat next to Draco.
"Anything funny, and my wand is going down your throat," He muttered.
Draco smirked and winked roguishly, "Really Potter, you could at least buy me dinner first."
Harry gritted his teeth, and from a distance one couldn't really tell if that becoming blush was from anger or embarrassment.
Draco leaned back in his chair. Score: Malfoy, one. Potter, zero.
The period progressed in a rather silent manner, with Potter preparing the effervicserum potion, and Malfoy dictating what to do next.
"Alright Potter, grind these boarhound teeth while I copy down the next instructions."
"Why am I doing all the work? What, are your hands too delicate to get soiled by mixing up nasty animal bits?" Harry shot Draco a look, accidentally letting a leaping Mellifluous Plant get away from him to jump up and smack him in the forehead. The few students around them giggled as Harry fought the plant into submission. Draco bit his tongue stifling a laugh, and the mischievous little plant (which resembled a small, un-husked corncob with legs) squirmed in Harry's grasp.
"Not at all Potter, just some of us are better for grunt work than others," He chortled.
"You'd think that that sort of thing would run in the family--"
"What's your point, Potter?" Draco narrowed his eyes.
"Oh nothing, it's just a shame that troll of a mother you have couldn't pass down some of her strength to her son," Harry spat.
Draco was fit to strangle Harry right then and there, had it not been for a rather quiet and studious classroom. "At least I have a family, you Muggle- born bastard!" He hissed.
Harry was gripping the mellifluous plant with such force that it started whimpering quietly. "If it weren't for people like you and your family, I might still have one!"
Both boys were standing now. "Are you insulting my heritage?" Draco growled, reaching for his wand.
But it was too late. In reaching for his own wand, Harry had let go of the leaping mellifluous plant. It promptly sprang to the floor, ricocheted off the underside of the table, and conked Draco in the nose like a corncob from a cannon. Draco hollered and the rouge plant proceeded to upset the boys' potion, spilling tangerine glop all over the floor and sending the next row of students in front of them up and shrieking. Pandemonium ensued, and Seamus Finnegan hooted as the mad plant bounced across his desk, scattering his and Neville's papers everywhere. The plant took a sharp left turn, and using its stalk-like legs, propelled itself off the wall and plummeted straight towards professor Snape. Students screamed, and the potions teacher had to dodge the flying vegetable, which changed course and headed back towards Harry. Thinking quickly, Harry seized the now empty cauldron and held it up just in time to catch the high projectile plant with a resounding *clang! *
"GOOOOAAAAALLLLLLL!!!" Crowed Seamus, and he nudged Neville with his toe, who was busy cowering under the desk.
The plant, apparently stunned, lay in a crumpled heap at the bottom of Harry and Draco's cauldron, and they only had enough time to observe this when a very enraged Potions Professor came thundering over to them.
"Potter! Did I not say to use restraining clamps on the mellifluous plant? And Malfoy! I would have expected more precaution from you. Gentlemen, the two of you will be cleaning up this mess in detention tonight. Not even the second week of school. I would have thought more of sixth year students. And ten points from Gryffindor, for not following instructions." Snape swished into his office with a snarl.
With that, the bell was a welcome end to a messy class period. As students filed out of the room, chattering in their excitement, Draco looked around at the chaos one tiny plant had caused, turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.
Harry stooped to gather his scattered parchments, seething inwardly at the thought of having to spend a few dire hours in the company of Draco Malfoy. The light in the room shifted just a bit, and Harry looked up to see Snape towering over him. Harry gulped. Snape had all the charming looks of a serpent about to strike, smiling coldly down on Harry from his superior height. Almost like a foreshadowing effect, a soft gust of chilly air blew in the door and sent shivers up Harry's spine.
"Dear mister Potter. Might I make a suggestion?"
//Here it comes--// Harry thought.
"During your detention with Malfoy tonight, you might try getting along for once," Snape's eyes were flat and dull.
Harry started to protest, but Snape interrupted. "Just make an effort for once. You might find the two of you have more in common than you think."
//Professor Snape? Being civil? Pinch me, I'm dreaming. Quite frankly, there are much better things to dream about, but even so, this is unheard of! // Harry dumbly gathered his books and his thoughts, heading for the door. "Uh, thanks Professor. I'll, uh, try."
But almost as if to prove he wasn't breaking character, Snape mentioned to Harry's retreating form, "At least try not to kill each other. You've made a fine enough mess of my dungeon as it is."
Harry nodded, and made a hasty exit, stage right.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Awww, detention with that slimy git? There goes your helping me with arithmancy tonight," Ron complained over dinner. The Great Hall was its usual din, even more so tonight, with rumors of the school's most famous rivals nearly coming to blows. Again.
"Please, Ron. You weren't going to study anyway. You just want something to blame Malfoy for."
Hermione could be very perceptive at times.
"Ahh, what do you know? If you'd just help me out every now and then, maybe I would be doing better in that class."
"Copying answers isn't helping, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, "Maybe if you'd take the time to let me explain some of it."
Ron looked pensive. With Harry gone, there would be nothing much else worth doing that night. "--Do ya think you could?"
"I dunno Ron, you're pretty hopeless," Hermione smiled and raised an eyebrow, "Of course I will silly!" The two chuckled.
"Whatsa matter, Harry? You're awful quiet tonight." Ron steered the conversation away from school for the moment.
"Nothing really," Harry replied, "Just thinking I guess."
//"You might find the two of you have more in common than you might think."// The pleasant bustle of the Great Hall faded to a faint buzz in Harry's eardrums as he turned the Professor's words over in his mind. He only came to when the large grandfather clock outside the Hall sounded six o'clock with a loud *bong.*
"Hey, I better get going. See you guys later, if I'm still alive," Harry managed a crooked smile, and headed off in the direction of the dungeons.
As the two friends watched him leave, Hermione wondered, "Any idea what's bugging him?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Small wonder the Slytherin's head of house chose the dungeons as his main place of operation. The corridors were dimly lit by flickering mage- torches, tripping up hapless pedestrians on occasion to send them sprawling onto a slightly damp, musty floor. The entire place was curtained in the scent of damp stone and mildew, giving one the impression of walking into a long, gaping cave. Harry entered the Potions classroom to find Draco slouched against a desk, already waiting.
"You're late. Snape's already been by. We've got an hour," Malfoy drawled, gesturing to two scruffy scrub brushes and a large, communal cauldron of sudsy water.
"Why didn't you start, then?" Harry looked innocently puzzled, letting down his guard on accident.
"And let you get out of some of the work? I think not," Draco scoffed. Obviously Potter was stupid as well as rude. This was going to be a long hour indeed.
"Oh. Of course." Harry tried not to let Draco see his embarrassment at making such an obvious comment.
"No magic tonight either, though I doubt it would do any good," Draco commented, picking at a glob of semi-gelatinous potion on the side of the table.
Harry looked like ten days of rain. "Oh marvelous. Just fantastic! I have to spend an* hour* in here with you scraping pond scum off the walls with *no magic-"
Draco's blood was starting to boil at the other boy's angry words. "You think this is a picnic for me, Potter? You're not exactly my favorite person either! Dumbledore's little Golden Boy, never gotten a detention in his life, I bet!"
Harry raked long fingers through his mop of hair, trying to suppress a great many words that were desperately begging to escape. "For your information, this is not my first detention, I've had three!" he bit off each syllable as though it might mutate into something dangerous even as he spoke. The two boys stood for nearly a minute, not moving, but not looking at each other, their bodies tense and poised for potential combat. Eventually, it was Harry who gave up first. His shoulders sagged, and he said,
"Can't we at least get started? Fighting's not going to get us any closer to cleaning this mess."
Draco relaxed, but warily. "Fine," He said coolly, once again becoming a human icicle. It seemed to Harry that Malfoy only had two emotions: smug and livid. Anything else was unnecessary and therefore not shown. The boys worked without speaking for nearly half an hour on hands and knees, with only the scraping of brushes and the occasional slosh of water to fill the void of the dungeon's dark, vaulted ceiling.
Finally, Draco broke the long band of silence between them. Without looking up, he questioned, "What were they for?"
Harry looked up, with a classic Potter innocence.
"Come again?"
"The detentions, Potter. What were they for?" Draco responded with thinly veiled interest.
"Oh!" Harry laughed nervously, not noticing how Draco's eyes flicked at him when he did so. He put a hand to the back of his head, ruffling his own hair in a sheepish gesture, forgetting about his soapy fingers. "Well, err, I. wait, why do you want to know?"
The question wasn't suspicious, as Harry was obviously going to tell him anyway, so Draco played off of it a little by batting his eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion and pouting splendidly, saying, "Oh come on Potter, I'm *dying * to know."
Harry couldn't help but smile a little at how ridiculous Malfoy was being, even with the sarcasm that dripped from his tongue.
"Well, you know about that one from first year," Draco dropped his gaze to the side, "and the other two were just boring, mundane things. You know, skipping Divination to settle an argument with Ron, setting Professor Flitwick on fire."
Draco's eyebrow's looked like they might get lost in his hairline. "On* fire!?*"
"It was an accident!" Harry protested, but couldn't help grinning a little. "He was okay, a little singed though."
Draco couldn't hold it in. The image of a surprised, scorched dwarf for a Charms teacher had him cackling with helpless, and a little malicious laughter. He then made Harry tell him the entire story of how it happened, inserting a few chuckles and commenting every now and then, making Harry return laughter. As the two conversed, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that maybe Malfoy wasn't a complete bastard after all. A comfortable pause in the dialogue let Harry think once again about what Professor Snape had said. Perhaps Malfoy would understand the Potion master's words more clearly.
"Professor Snape said something today--" Harry began.
"Yes, he has the odd way of communicating like that," Draco interjected sardonically, then looked slightly taken aback, like he couldn't stop the harsh comment from fleeing his lips before he caught it.
Harry's first instinct was to volley a remark in reply, but decided that maybe there was some meaning behind all this yet to be discovered.
"Wh-what I meant was, well, he said we should try to get along for a change," The raven-haired boy hazarded.
Draco pulled back a little, rising up on his knees to perch on the edge of the table he had been scrubbing. Stormy eyes caught jade, and held them for a second.
"Why?" He asked with a bit of suspicion.
Harry could sense the other boy retreating back into a shroud of arrogance, and figured he might as well give it all up now.
He acted nonchalant, muttering, "He said we might have more in common than one might think." His words were calm, but his posture was tense. He was kneeling, looking up at Malfoy with an expression of unsure curiosity.
Draco looked away from Harry, thinking about what Potter had said. He locked gazes with the boy again, his emotions completely flat and unreadable.
"What's to compare? We play Quidditch, we're fiercely competitive, and we can't stand each other. That's it." And with that, Draco went back to scrubbing the last table.
For just a few fleeting minutes, both boys had been completely comfortable with each other, defenses lowered just enough to communicate and (God forbid) enjoy the other's company. Harry was almost disappointed it had gone as quickly as it came.
"Well, Snape said to at least manage not to kill each other," Harry shrugged and dunked his forgotten brush back into the cauldron.
Draco still had a faraway, clouded look in his eyes. He slowed his scrubbing rhythm ever so slightly and replied without looking at Harry.
"We aren't killing each other now."
Harry ventured one more step, knowing this could hurt the next day, but wanting to be completely honest, for once, with his greatest rival.
"I don't mind it much."
Now Draco did look at him, his eyes two splintered mirrors piercing through every mask, every façade the both of them put up to the world. And within a heartbeat, the walls were up again, his hands scrubbing and his expression haughty.
"Don't get used to it Potter. Even with ten thousand detentions, I'd still hate you," He said in a low voice.
The clock suspended over Snape's desk struck seven, and both boys threw their brushes into the cauldron to stand in the hall, surveying a now sparkling clean dungeon. Or rather, as close to sparkling as it was ever going to get.
"Well, uh, I better get going. Uh, Good night?" Harry's look was pained, "Err, bye." He turned and fled up the stairs, towards Gryffindor Tower, back to where dim torchlight and cold dungeons didn't skew everything out of proportion. Where you didn't have conversations with the enemy. Back to where it was safe.
Draco stood alone in the flickering torchlight, shadows dancing across his features and through his thoughts. Potter wasn't so bad, really. But. he was still Potter. His palms were damp, and try as he might to dismiss it as cauldron-water; he knew that something about Harry Potter made him distinctly nervous.
//Malfoys don't feel this way.// He insisted. // They just don't do this.* I* don't do this! Tomorrow is another day. Just like all the others.//
And tomorrow would be another day, but days are like snowflakes. No two are ever quite the same.
Length: one chapter out of several to come
Rating: G for the moment. This story will not be NC17. Sorry folks. Porn it is not, but love story it will be.
Obligatory Warning: This is slash fiction. Meaning two members of the same sex in love. It is not pornography, just a love story between two characters you already know.
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the Harry Potter universe. Well, except for this humble eking of a slashfic. These characters are not mine, but it was very, very tempting to steal them away for a while. I'll bring 'em back. I promise! //looks innocent//
Summary: Harry watches Draco swimming in the lake from the safety of a weeping willow tree. The story gets moving from there. But don't leave! There's more to the plot, I swear.
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The autumn sun hovered cheerily just over the horizon, flushing scattered clouds a tickled pink and gently warming the stones of Hogwarts castle. The sun had risen not too long ago, so most students and faculty were still abed. Most, save two.
Harry Potter, one usually so calm and unruffled, hadn't slept a wink the entire night previous. His footsteps were slow and meandering as he swished through the uncut grass down by the lake. His sights were set on a large, morose willow tree, with every intention of finally reading the letter Sirius had sent him, in private. But if he had looked up from his shoe tops for more than an instant, he would have noticed the other sole conscious being on the grounds at that moment. He reached the willow, climbed into a comfortable spot, and started to read.
In the meantime, Draco Malfoy was fighting for his life. Cold lake water filled his ears, pressed in on his vision, and once again made him wonder (not for the first time) why he put himself through this torture every morning. He gave an inward shrug, figuring there could be worse ways to stay in shape. Draco's pale arms cut through the surface of the water in steady, fluid motions, pulling him closer to shore.
A soft splashing from the lake caught Harry's attention, and he put down Sirius' letter to peek through the willow branches in curiosity.
Draco came up from under the water, cutting through its reflective surface like a knife. His toes brushed the bottom, kicking up little clouds of sediment as he emerged from the lake. His dripping form was covered by only a black racing swimsuit, which gave sharp contrast to pale skin and platinum blond hair. Harry couldn't help but notice that for one so thin, Malfoy had surprisingly good muscle definition. //Must be the Quidditch,// Harry mused, then chastised himself for even looking in the first place. The blond boy shook his hair out vigorously, sending crystal droplets flying every which way, and picked up his towel from where he had deposited it in the sand about half an hour earlier. Apparently headed for a hot shower and a good preening, Malfoy stalked off in the direction of the boy's locker room.
Above the rustling of willow leaves, Harry's ears picked out the faint sound of owl cries. Morning Post, and breakfast would be starting soon enough. Stretching his stiff arms, (and nearly falling out of the tree) Harry got down and trudged in the direction of the castle, with Sirius' letter still unread.
The Great Hall was a flurry of activity in the morning as students inhaled a hasty breakfast, socialized, or in some cases did the homework due within the next hour or so. Above all this hubbub, Harry mentioned casually to his friends,
"Guess who I saw in the lake this morning?"
Hermione was all ears in an instant, but Ron took a few pokes before he was anywhere near alert.
"Honestly, Ron, you're going to fall asleep in your oatmeal at this rate," Hermione sniffed.
Ron grunted in reply, but said to Harry, "Who was it?"
"Eh, nobody really, just Malfoy. Dunno what he thought he was doing, swimming at the crack of dawn."
"Maybe he'll do us all a favor and drown," Ron interjected, prompting a roll of the eyes from Hermione, who responded,
"I guess he just wants to stay in good shape, or maybe it's stress relief, I read this article about exercise the other day and how it helps things like depression--"
"Oh come on Hermione, it's too early for this--"
"Hey! It might do you good to know these things sometime, you know--"
Harry just laughed as his two best friends dissolved into hopeless bickering yet again. They continued for a while, until Hermione asked,
"Why were you up so early, Harry?"
The boy in question just shrugged, raking his fingers through unruly black locks, "Just couldn't sleep I guess. Having wicked bad dreams lately."
Both Hermione and Ron looked alarmed at this. Ron ventured, "Uh, Harry, remember the last time this happened? You don't think it's." Hermione bit her lip and looked concerned.
"No really, don't worry. Probably something I ate." His jade eyes were anywhere but on his friends.
"For a whole week? Honestly Harry--" The bushy haired girl began.
"Really, Herm. Trust me. If it gets bad, I'll go to Madame Pomfrey or something," Harry's smile didn't reach his eyes.
//Don't worry, guys, I'll be fine. Really.//
The morning bell rang, signaling the start of another school day, and the Dynamic Trio didn't have much time to think as any worries were swept away by the sudden rush of people headed to class.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco Malfoy had taken his usual seat at the very back of the Potions classroom, allowing himself to enjoy watching the looks on the Gryffindors' faces as they trooped into the dank smelling dungeon for the last class of the day. As usual, Potter and Weasley were late. Professor Snape swooped on the two of them like a smug version of the grim reaper, taking ten points from gryffindor in his wake. Draco smirked, but his smirk turned to a genuine frown when Snape announced,
"Well Mister Potter, since we cannot come to class on time, perhaps you will have better luck keeping up with Mister Malfoy. You could learn a few things from him."
Jade eyes met silver with an almost tangible flicker of electricity, and the entire class was tuned in to see how this odd pairing would pan out. But the raven-haired boy surprised everyone by gathering up his books and calmly sitting in the empty seat next to Draco.
"Anything funny, and my wand is going down your throat," He muttered.
Draco smirked and winked roguishly, "Really Potter, you could at least buy me dinner first."
Harry gritted his teeth, and from a distance one couldn't really tell if that becoming blush was from anger or embarrassment.
Draco leaned back in his chair. Score: Malfoy, one. Potter, zero.
The period progressed in a rather silent manner, with Potter preparing the effervicserum potion, and Malfoy dictating what to do next.
"Alright Potter, grind these boarhound teeth while I copy down the next instructions."
"Why am I doing all the work? What, are your hands too delicate to get soiled by mixing up nasty animal bits?" Harry shot Draco a look, accidentally letting a leaping Mellifluous Plant get away from him to jump up and smack him in the forehead. The few students around them giggled as Harry fought the plant into submission. Draco bit his tongue stifling a laugh, and the mischievous little plant (which resembled a small, un-husked corncob with legs) squirmed in Harry's grasp.
"Not at all Potter, just some of us are better for grunt work than others," He chortled.
"You'd think that that sort of thing would run in the family--"
"What's your point, Potter?" Draco narrowed his eyes.
"Oh nothing, it's just a shame that troll of a mother you have couldn't pass down some of her strength to her son," Harry spat.
Draco was fit to strangle Harry right then and there, had it not been for a rather quiet and studious classroom. "At least I have a family, you Muggle- born bastard!" He hissed.
Harry was gripping the mellifluous plant with such force that it started whimpering quietly. "If it weren't for people like you and your family, I might still have one!"
Both boys were standing now. "Are you insulting my heritage?" Draco growled, reaching for his wand.
But it was too late. In reaching for his own wand, Harry had let go of the leaping mellifluous plant. It promptly sprang to the floor, ricocheted off the underside of the table, and conked Draco in the nose like a corncob from a cannon. Draco hollered and the rouge plant proceeded to upset the boys' potion, spilling tangerine glop all over the floor and sending the next row of students in front of them up and shrieking. Pandemonium ensued, and Seamus Finnegan hooted as the mad plant bounced across his desk, scattering his and Neville's papers everywhere. The plant took a sharp left turn, and using its stalk-like legs, propelled itself off the wall and plummeted straight towards professor Snape. Students screamed, and the potions teacher had to dodge the flying vegetable, which changed course and headed back towards Harry. Thinking quickly, Harry seized the now empty cauldron and held it up just in time to catch the high projectile plant with a resounding *clang! *
"GOOOOAAAAALLLLLLL!!!" Crowed Seamus, and he nudged Neville with his toe, who was busy cowering under the desk.
The plant, apparently stunned, lay in a crumpled heap at the bottom of Harry and Draco's cauldron, and they only had enough time to observe this when a very enraged Potions Professor came thundering over to them.
"Potter! Did I not say to use restraining clamps on the mellifluous plant? And Malfoy! I would have expected more precaution from you. Gentlemen, the two of you will be cleaning up this mess in detention tonight. Not even the second week of school. I would have thought more of sixth year students. And ten points from Gryffindor, for not following instructions." Snape swished into his office with a snarl.
With that, the bell was a welcome end to a messy class period. As students filed out of the room, chattering in their excitement, Draco looked around at the chaos one tiny plant had caused, turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.
Harry stooped to gather his scattered parchments, seething inwardly at the thought of having to spend a few dire hours in the company of Draco Malfoy. The light in the room shifted just a bit, and Harry looked up to see Snape towering over him. Harry gulped. Snape had all the charming looks of a serpent about to strike, smiling coldly down on Harry from his superior height. Almost like a foreshadowing effect, a soft gust of chilly air blew in the door and sent shivers up Harry's spine.
"Dear mister Potter. Might I make a suggestion?"
//Here it comes--// Harry thought.
"During your detention with Malfoy tonight, you might try getting along for once," Snape's eyes were flat and dull.
Harry started to protest, but Snape interrupted. "Just make an effort for once. You might find the two of you have more in common than you think."
//Professor Snape? Being civil? Pinch me, I'm dreaming. Quite frankly, there are much better things to dream about, but even so, this is unheard of! // Harry dumbly gathered his books and his thoughts, heading for the door. "Uh, thanks Professor. I'll, uh, try."
But almost as if to prove he wasn't breaking character, Snape mentioned to Harry's retreating form, "At least try not to kill each other. You've made a fine enough mess of my dungeon as it is."
Harry nodded, and made a hasty exit, stage right.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Awww, detention with that slimy git? There goes your helping me with arithmancy tonight," Ron complained over dinner. The Great Hall was its usual din, even more so tonight, with rumors of the school's most famous rivals nearly coming to blows. Again.
"Please, Ron. You weren't going to study anyway. You just want something to blame Malfoy for."
Hermione could be very perceptive at times.
"Ahh, what do you know? If you'd just help me out every now and then, maybe I would be doing better in that class."
"Copying answers isn't helping, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, "Maybe if you'd take the time to let me explain some of it."
Ron looked pensive. With Harry gone, there would be nothing much else worth doing that night. "--Do ya think you could?"
"I dunno Ron, you're pretty hopeless," Hermione smiled and raised an eyebrow, "Of course I will silly!" The two chuckled.
"Whatsa matter, Harry? You're awful quiet tonight." Ron steered the conversation away from school for the moment.
"Nothing really," Harry replied, "Just thinking I guess."
//"You might find the two of you have more in common than you might think."// The pleasant bustle of the Great Hall faded to a faint buzz in Harry's eardrums as he turned the Professor's words over in his mind. He only came to when the large grandfather clock outside the Hall sounded six o'clock with a loud *bong.*
"Hey, I better get going. See you guys later, if I'm still alive," Harry managed a crooked smile, and headed off in the direction of the dungeons.
As the two friends watched him leave, Hermione wondered, "Any idea what's bugging him?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Small wonder the Slytherin's head of house chose the dungeons as his main place of operation. The corridors were dimly lit by flickering mage- torches, tripping up hapless pedestrians on occasion to send them sprawling onto a slightly damp, musty floor. The entire place was curtained in the scent of damp stone and mildew, giving one the impression of walking into a long, gaping cave. Harry entered the Potions classroom to find Draco slouched against a desk, already waiting.
"You're late. Snape's already been by. We've got an hour," Malfoy drawled, gesturing to two scruffy scrub brushes and a large, communal cauldron of sudsy water.
"Why didn't you start, then?" Harry looked innocently puzzled, letting down his guard on accident.
"And let you get out of some of the work? I think not," Draco scoffed. Obviously Potter was stupid as well as rude. This was going to be a long hour indeed.
"Oh. Of course." Harry tried not to let Draco see his embarrassment at making such an obvious comment.
"No magic tonight either, though I doubt it would do any good," Draco commented, picking at a glob of semi-gelatinous potion on the side of the table.
Harry looked like ten days of rain. "Oh marvelous. Just fantastic! I have to spend an* hour* in here with you scraping pond scum off the walls with *no magic-"
Draco's blood was starting to boil at the other boy's angry words. "You think this is a picnic for me, Potter? You're not exactly my favorite person either! Dumbledore's little Golden Boy, never gotten a detention in his life, I bet!"
Harry raked long fingers through his mop of hair, trying to suppress a great many words that were desperately begging to escape. "For your information, this is not my first detention, I've had three!" he bit off each syllable as though it might mutate into something dangerous even as he spoke. The two boys stood for nearly a minute, not moving, but not looking at each other, their bodies tense and poised for potential combat. Eventually, it was Harry who gave up first. His shoulders sagged, and he said,
"Can't we at least get started? Fighting's not going to get us any closer to cleaning this mess."
Draco relaxed, but warily. "Fine," He said coolly, once again becoming a human icicle. It seemed to Harry that Malfoy only had two emotions: smug and livid. Anything else was unnecessary and therefore not shown. The boys worked without speaking for nearly half an hour on hands and knees, with only the scraping of brushes and the occasional slosh of water to fill the void of the dungeon's dark, vaulted ceiling.
Finally, Draco broke the long band of silence between them. Without looking up, he questioned, "What were they for?"
Harry looked up, with a classic Potter innocence.
"Come again?"
"The detentions, Potter. What were they for?" Draco responded with thinly veiled interest.
"Oh!" Harry laughed nervously, not noticing how Draco's eyes flicked at him when he did so. He put a hand to the back of his head, ruffling his own hair in a sheepish gesture, forgetting about his soapy fingers. "Well, err, I. wait, why do you want to know?"
The question wasn't suspicious, as Harry was obviously going to tell him anyway, so Draco played off of it a little by batting his eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion and pouting splendidly, saying, "Oh come on Potter, I'm *dying * to know."
Harry couldn't help but smile a little at how ridiculous Malfoy was being, even with the sarcasm that dripped from his tongue.
"Well, you know about that one from first year," Draco dropped his gaze to the side, "and the other two were just boring, mundane things. You know, skipping Divination to settle an argument with Ron, setting Professor Flitwick on fire."
Draco's eyebrow's looked like they might get lost in his hairline. "On* fire!?*"
"It was an accident!" Harry protested, but couldn't help grinning a little. "He was okay, a little singed though."
Draco couldn't hold it in. The image of a surprised, scorched dwarf for a Charms teacher had him cackling with helpless, and a little malicious laughter. He then made Harry tell him the entire story of how it happened, inserting a few chuckles and commenting every now and then, making Harry return laughter. As the two conversed, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that maybe Malfoy wasn't a complete bastard after all. A comfortable pause in the dialogue let Harry think once again about what Professor Snape had said. Perhaps Malfoy would understand the Potion master's words more clearly.
"Professor Snape said something today--" Harry began.
"Yes, he has the odd way of communicating like that," Draco interjected sardonically, then looked slightly taken aback, like he couldn't stop the harsh comment from fleeing his lips before he caught it.
Harry's first instinct was to volley a remark in reply, but decided that maybe there was some meaning behind all this yet to be discovered.
"Wh-what I meant was, well, he said we should try to get along for a change," The raven-haired boy hazarded.
Draco pulled back a little, rising up on his knees to perch on the edge of the table he had been scrubbing. Stormy eyes caught jade, and held them for a second.
"Why?" He asked with a bit of suspicion.
Harry could sense the other boy retreating back into a shroud of arrogance, and figured he might as well give it all up now.
He acted nonchalant, muttering, "He said we might have more in common than one might think." His words were calm, but his posture was tense. He was kneeling, looking up at Malfoy with an expression of unsure curiosity.
Draco looked away from Harry, thinking about what Potter had said. He locked gazes with the boy again, his emotions completely flat and unreadable.
"What's to compare? We play Quidditch, we're fiercely competitive, and we can't stand each other. That's it." And with that, Draco went back to scrubbing the last table.
For just a few fleeting minutes, both boys had been completely comfortable with each other, defenses lowered just enough to communicate and (God forbid) enjoy the other's company. Harry was almost disappointed it had gone as quickly as it came.
"Well, Snape said to at least manage not to kill each other," Harry shrugged and dunked his forgotten brush back into the cauldron.
Draco still had a faraway, clouded look in his eyes. He slowed his scrubbing rhythm ever so slightly and replied without looking at Harry.
"We aren't killing each other now."
Harry ventured one more step, knowing this could hurt the next day, but wanting to be completely honest, for once, with his greatest rival.
"I don't mind it much."
Now Draco did look at him, his eyes two splintered mirrors piercing through every mask, every façade the both of them put up to the world. And within a heartbeat, the walls were up again, his hands scrubbing and his expression haughty.
"Don't get used to it Potter. Even with ten thousand detentions, I'd still hate you," He said in a low voice.
The clock suspended over Snape's desk struck seven, and both boys threw their brushes into the cauldron to stand in the hall, surveying a now sparkling clean dungeon. Or rather, as close to sparkling as it was ever going to get.
"Well, uh, I better get going. Uh, Good night?" Harry's look was pained, "Err, bye." He turned and fled up the stairs, towards Gryffindor Tower, back to where dim torchlight and cold dungeons didn't skew everything out of proportion. Where you didn't have conversations with the enemy. Back to where it was safe.
Draco stood alone in the flickering torchlight, shadows dancing across his features and through his thoughts. Potter wasn't so bad, really. But. he was still Potter. His palms were damp, and try as he might to dismiss it as cauldron-water; he knew that something about Harry Potter made him distinctly nervous.
//Malfoys don't feel this way.// He insisted. // They just don't do this.* I* don't do this! Tomorrow is another day. Just like all the others.//
And tomorrow would be another day, but days are like snowflakes. No two are ever quite the same.