Title: Lines
Author: Shinkou
Summary: Harry Potter can read. Just not very well.
Disclaimer: They are all not mine.
Author's Notes: One of those super short pointless sappy clueless!Harry fic.
Ratings: PG. I think. It's sap guys, no angst what so ever.
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Harry Potter can't read between the lines between the lines.
That is why, when Draco tried to turn him into a silver and green striped mole with a Mohawk, he retaliated by hexing him into the infirmary.
That is also why, when Draco blew up his caldron with a couple extra newt legs and chopped snake liver, he had to be forcefully restrained from detaching that blonde head from the body.
Really, Harry Potter just doesn't get it. He is not sophisticated enough to understand the intricate art form of secrets hidden under secrets hidden under secrets.
Or perhaps Draco is too sophisticated in his style of communication.
Or perhaps Draco expected too much from The-Boy-Who-Lived.
In any case, he tried something else.
Unfortunately, Harry Potter can't read between the lines either.
Due to that fact, when Draco managed to corner him alone one night, Harry ran away feeling angry and confused.
"Potter," Draco had sneered, his pale hands planted firmly on the wall with Harry's head trapped in between. "I hate you."
Obviously, Harry did not react well to that. His hair stood up just a little like an angered feline, and he forced himself off the wall to better match Malfoy's air.
Seriously, what kind of person goes around proclaiming his hatred?
Why, Malfoy of course.
But before Harry could bite out something insulting, Draco pushed forward, stopping so close that his breath fanned Harry's cheeks and stole his mental dictionary of curses.
"I hate you, Potter," he whispered, moist breath licking at a delicate earlobe, and Harry thought the warmth would burn his cheeks. "I hate you so much that I could just eat you alive."
Now Harry, being the cute little boy that he is, just doesn't get it.
He pushed Draco away with a burst of energy, fully aware that his cheeks were still burning. In fact, his cheeks were burning so badly that his body must have activated some auto cheek-fire extinguisher because he was breathing like he played ten Quidditch games in an hour, and his body was shaking like he was high on some illegal potion.
"Malfoy!" he all but screamed, "w-what the hell do you think you're doing?" he huffed and puffed and searched his dictionary for insults, "you, you're reverting back to your Malfoy cannibalism, aren't you? Well, wait till I warn the whole school!" He let out a shaky laugh, "then you'll die of starvation and rot in your Death Eater hole! Ha!"
Then the savior of the wizarding world turned tail and fled to his female advisor, high up in the tower where no Slytherin would care to go.
What a shame. Poor little Draco, try again.
Just a bit more straight forward will do the trick.
"Potter," Draco sneered again, this time with a satisfied grin on his face when he found himself in the exact same position as their last encounter. Harry had a defiant look about him this time, glaring as menacingly as he could while blushing and pinned to the wall.
Oh and yes, there was no room for a balloon between their bodies. Air tight. Good stuff.
Perhaps their positions weren't all that similar as previously perceived.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry's voice shook just a little.
Draco smirked. "Did the Mud-" he reconsidered his words, "-colored hair book-" he paused again, "-reading girl tell you what I meant when I said I want to eat you?"
Harry's glare hardened but he didn't comment on the cover up, "yes. She did."
A moment later his blush intensified.
Draco flashed him a sparkling teeth smile, whispered "Good," and promptly swooped down for a five minute Bonjour!-Comment-allez-vous?-Ayez-un-beau- jour!-kiss.
When they finally breathed, Draco was the first to speak.
"Am I understood?"
Harry glanced up at him from under thick lashes, "perfectly."
Fortunately, Harry Potter can read.
End! XD