It's Never Two-Sided

AN: Oh. Eff. Em. Gee.
I cannot believe how long it's been! Merlin's shaggy balls... Wow. I don't really know what to say aside from that. My only excuse is RL; and I can't even say I'm going to go back to regular updates of any sort, but I do intend to continue writing. RL is probably going to hijack me yet again in this coming year, but at least there's another chapter now? Right? And the end here makes me squirm, so hopefully it'll tease you guys just as pleasurably. Or maybe it's just my kink.

A big thanks to thrnbrooke, who has faithfully commented on every chapter so far. I don't deserve the devotion. And to anyone else out there who happens to still read or occasionally check up on this, (I do that with some seemingly dead fics--sometimes they come back!!) thanks. I mean it. I really can't tell if you exost unless you review, but I like to at least pretend you're out there, checking back every now and then, hoping beyond hope for a miracle.

Well, here it is.

~Words

Chapter Fifteen: Fifteen is Not Too Young for a Noble


“That is so unfair!” Halle whined to herself.

“What is so unfair?” Hermione asked, causing Halle to jump.

“Merlin, 'Mione! You could kill someone like that!”

“I know.”

Halle gave Hermione an odd look before returning to her reading. “It's just a stupid old law,” she said.

“About what?” Hermione pressed.

“Legal adulthood in the Wizarding World. I have to be seventeen before I'm allowed to use magic, emancipated or not, but if I were some lord or other's kid, I could've been using magic a year ago!”

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, plucking the book from her dark haired friend's hands. After nearly a minute of looking through it, she sighed and gave it back. “You're right, for once.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Hermione just shook her head. “So, how did your date go?”

Halle blushed. “Fine, thank you.”

“If you don't mind me asking, where did you go?”

Halle coughed for a moment, trying to get her story together. “Muggle London,” she finally said. “We wanted to go somewhere no one would recognize us.” Which was partially true. Sort of.

“And how did you manage to get there?” Hermione pressed.

“Well... it was a bit of a trick,” Halle tried, searching for some better answer.

“It wouldn't have anything to do with the motorcycle that's been stashed in the Shrieking Shack, now would it?”

Halle was too stunned to even blush.

“I thought so,” Hermione said, standing up.

Halle shook herself. “Wait, what were you doing out at the Shrieking Shack?”

“Oh, would you look at that? It's time for dinner, and Ron'll worry his stuffed head off if we're not there,” Hermione replied, and left.

Halle had just gotten her things together and was rushing out the door when a voice from her right said, “You don't tell him about the Shack, I don't tell him about the motorcycle.”

“Yeah, sure 'Mione. That sounds like a deal.”

~*~

The next Monday Halle and Malfoy were paired for a potions lab. Halle was just about to add the Jabberwock Ears, a time-essential ingredient, when the blond muttered, “I think something isn't right with it.”

Halle pulled her hand back quickly, then almost fell into the cauldron when Malfoy pulled her arm forward.

“Not that, you idiot! Add the ears, NOW!”

Halle complied, dropping them into the bubbling mass which immediately calmed. Malfoy sighed.

“Honestly, Potter, how thick are you?”

“You were the one who said something was wrong!”

“Not with the potion!” he hissed at her.

“Then what—oh...” Halle's anger died when she realized what he had been talking about. “There shouldn't be, really. I mean, that stuff's good for just about anything...”

“Well, something feels wrong. I...” Malfoy glanced around, but everyone else was engrossed in making sure their potions didn't explode. “I need you to look at it.”

“Oh, really?” Halle sneered.

“Yes, really.”

Halle gave him a scrutinizing look. He wasn't acting normal, but of course that only meant that he wasn't trying to kill or insult her. It could be a malicious Death Eater trap, but something told her that it wasn't.

“You need me to look at it,”

“Yes.”

Halle sighed, but knew her choice was already made. “Same place and time?”

Malfoy nodded, then his face hardened. “Of course, the Fluxweed goes in at the same timing and place! It neutralizes the Jabberwock Ears; how else would it work?!”

The brunette just stared at him, dumbfounded.

Malfoy sighed. “You really are clueless, huh?”

Halle glared at him, but didn't comment.

~*~

That night Halle set up the room as she had the last time, and again waited for Malfoy to enter first.

“Do you take pleasure in being the last one here?” he asked as she warded the door after her.

“No, I just prefer it.”

“Ah.”

“So, are we going to do this?”

Malfoy nodded, and stripped to his boxers.

“I though you didn't wear Muggle pants?” she asked, taking out the cloths and ointments.

“We all make sacrifices,” he replied. Halle laughed. “Will you just get on with it?” he sneered back.

“Do you need to be so rude?” she asked, holding the cleaning cloth and crossing her arms.

“Well, if you'd—”

“Left you to bleed and get infected? Decided you weren't worth my time? I'm not the one that needs to be here.”
Malfoy looked like he was about to come back with something especially nasty, but something stopped him. “...alright. Just... get on with it... would you?”

Halle nodded. “Alright. Get yourself a chair.”

Malfoy pulled out three chairs and positioned himself on one. Leaning forward, her rested his head on his arms on the back of the chair.

Halle sat behind him, using the wet cloth to clean the CoverAll, which was now hard and had an almost rubbery feel. When she was done she put the cloth on the chair next her and placed her hands on Malfoy's tan-covered back. “Abstergo,” she whispered, and began peeling the ClearAll off.

“Dear Mudblood-Scorching Merlin!” he screamed.

“You're usually supposed to leave it on for two weeks, then it comes off on its own,” Halle explained as she worked. “But if there's an infection that's not clearing up, we need to look at it.”

Malfoy continued to swear as Halle continued to peel, until finally it was over. Halle banished the last of the hardened CoverAll from the pile on the floor, then handed a clean, wet cloth to Malfoy.

“Wipe your face,” she told him, and took another cloth to clean the yellow residue off his back. “Malfoy...” she started.

“What?” he asked, turning his head to try and see.

“Where exactly did you say it felt wrong?” she asked, scrutinizing his back.

“Well... er...” he stuttered, turning his face away.

“Malfoy?”

“I... don't remember...”

“Malfoy?”

“I don't, okay? What does it look like?”

Halle grit her teeth. “It looks fine. There's fresh skin over everything—well, there was until it got stripped off with the CoverAll, and nothing looks infected.”

“Oh.”

Halle spun his chair around faster than even she thought possible. “Malfoy. What's this about?”

He looked at her sullenly. “You're supposed to be clueless.”

“Only half of the time. Usually the half of the time when people aren't outright lying to me.”
Malfoy looked away.

“Malfoy—”

“Draco,” the blond interrupted.

“What?”

“Call me Draco. Please.”

Halle was too shocked to respond, which Malfoy seemed to take as a refusal.

“Please; look, only while we're in here, okay? We don't have to be any different out there, but in here—”

“W-why?” Halle managed to sputter.

“Because... because you care.”

“Malfoy, if you think—”

“I mean, you don't really care about me, but you care in general, and that's something I've never had.”

Halle gave him a look.

“I mean, yes, I've had parents and relatives and a godfather that all take care of me, but that's because I'm needed as either the heir or... and no one else really cares. They can care about everyone else, all the poor little Muggleborns and orphans and such, but I'm the Malfoy heir. I'm not worth shite. If you care about anyone and everyone, you hate me. But you don't; I mean, you did, but you didn't enough to help me, and... I don't know. It's just... last time was so nice.”

Halle laughed. “Malfoy, last time you were bleeding and complaining and screaming in pain.”

“But it was because you were helping me. It wasn't pleasant, but it was nice. No one's nice to me.”
It was said so matter-of-factually that Halle felt it really was the truth.

“Alright, Malfoy—Draco,” she corrected herself. “I'm assuming this means that you want to meet more often.”
Draco nodded.

Halle sighed. “I guess I can do that. On one condition,” she warned when Draco lifted his head. “You. Are. Never. To. Lie. To. Me. Is that clear?”

Draco nodded.

“If you don't want to tell me something, that's fine, but one lie, and I leave.”

“It's a deal... Miss Potter.”

Halle nodded. This was not a friendship, there had really been to much between them for that. This was Halle's 'helping people thing' that Hermione always talked about. She was giving, Draco was taking. The blond boy may be the one making demands, but she was in charge, and they both knew it.
And perhaps they both liked it.