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The Amour	By : Manhattan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4130 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
- The Amour -
Prequel to The Amourette

Rated
R

Disclaimer
You wish I owned Harry Potter & Co. don’t you?
Because then, I’d have my naughty way with them...
Too bad.

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• Chapter Two •
Harry Potter, the Hoi Polloi

Once again, Harry’s date with Cho had turned out to be a misadventure, and even though this time, Cho hadn’t run off sobbing in the end, he still felt a bit guilty and disappointed in the outcome. It made him feel very incapable of doing anything remotely related to girls and he wondered why things had to be so troublesome.

Some people, were fortunate to be born with the gift of girl-wooing. He however, was born with two right legs when it came to that matter. Not only was it humiliating, but it made his self-esteem sink very, very low. He was sure there weren’t any people who considered parseltongue to be a very attractive gift; that disastrous dueling club back in second year had shown him as much.

As he trudged back up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower later that afternoon, he vaguely wondered why he hadn’t run into Ron or Hermione at Hogsmeade. After Ron’s odd fit about Harry going with Cho, he’d shrugged and said that he and Hermione would be going alone and would be having loads of fun without Harry. Harry supposed that Ron had a right to be upset since the three did have plans to go together that day, but Ron also knew about Harry’s crush on Cho and wasn’t it normal for a sixteen year old boy to choose crushes over friends for Hogsmeade dates?

As a matter of fact, he and Ron were about the only guys in Gryffindor that didn’t have girlfriends. It was pathetic really. Even Neville had one, not that Harry thought he was better than Neville or anything, but Neville was shy and hardly took the initiative doing anything. And that made him wonder - why?

With Ron, it was only a matter of time, for everyone knew that he ‘secretly’ had a thing for Hermione and Hermione ‘secretly’ had a thing for Ron. All it would take was a couple of pushes in the right direction from either side and they’d be snogging under the dinner table before anyone could say ‘Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare’.

But Harry. That was where the problem was. Or was he himself the problem? He wasn’t even sure if Cho had considered their ‘date’ today an actual date date or just a friendly lunch date. She hadn’t tried any moves on him after that event in the Three Broomsticks and they’d parted rather awkwardly at the foot of the main staircase with a hug and a peck on the cheek.

And the odd thing was, Harry wasn’t sure if he was so completely infatuated with Cho anymore like in his third and fourth year. There were definitely way to many awkward moments and thinking of her didn’t bring that rollercoaster thrill to the pit of his stomach.

When he entered the Gryffindor common room, he was surprised to see Hermione sitting alone by the fire, quills, parchment, and books spread out on the table before her. She looked up when he came in and smiled wearily, setting down her quill.

“You’re back early,” she said, clearing off the chair next to her and setting her bookbag on the floor. “Have fun?”

Harry plopped down into the chair and sighed. “S’ppose so... where’s Ron? Didn’t you two go to Hogsmeade?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “He changed his mind at the last minute and decided not to. He’s only been down from the dormitory once for lunch.”

“Is it because of me and Cho?” Harry asked apprehensively, glancing at the staircase leading to the boy’s tower.

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” said Hermione with a shake of her head. “Ron’s just being immature and you shouldn’t let that get in the way of you and Cho. She’s a nice girl, Harry.”

Harry frowned, his former thoughts rising up in his mind again. Maybe if he talked about his doubts with Hermione, it would help him to clear them up and rid him of the confusion that was serving him such a useless hassle. Hermione was a girl. She might be able to tell him what kind of thoughts were going on inside Cho’s mind.

“Hermione,” he began uncertainly, his voice involuntarily lowering even though there was nobody else around. “I’m sort 0f, well, really confused about this whole thing with - with Cho, and I was thinking... maybe we’re not really - uh - compatible?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows and tilted her head thoughtfully.

“Why would you think that?” she asked and Harry’s cheeks reddened a bit.

“I - I dunno...” he muttered. “It’s just... different from before, in a way. More awkward.”

“I’m sure it’s just your nerves thinking that, Harry. I mean, you’ve liked her since third year and she’s obviously liked you too, except she’s had to get over Cedric’s death and everything. It’s no wonder you’re feeling confused, with Ron making a fuss and all, but I don’t think you should really worry about it. Honestly.” she smiled and patted him on the knee.

Harry bit his lip. “You reckon? That it’s just that I mean? My nerves?”

Hermione nodded reassuringly. “I do.”

Harry let out a sigh and chuckled. “That’s good then. I was beginning to think that maybe I was weird or something.”

“Well you are Harry Potter,” she reminded jokingly, gathering up her notes and sandwiching them in between the pages of her Charms book.

“Haha, thanks,” Harry rolled his eyes, getting up from his seat. “I’m gonna go talk to Ron, see if I can’t make him come down.”

“Good luck with that,” she laughed and waved sarcastically.

Harry took the winding stairs three at a time, feeling considerably lighter at heart. Of course it was just his nerves. After all, Hermione was right, he did have a crush on her since third year and he could remember feeling jealous whenever he saw Cho with Cedric. That had to mean something.

He cracked open the door to their dormitory and stuck his head in.

“Ron?” he called tentatively.

Ron was laying on his back in his four poster, his hands beneath his head and a forlorn expression on his face. He started when he heard Harry’s voice and sat up.

“Oh, it’s only you,” the redhead muttered and flopped back down.

“Yeah, it’s only me,” Harry said. “So uh -” he stepped into the room and closed the door softly. “What’s up? What are you doing up here?”

“Being alone,” Ron replied coldly.

“Right... so should I leave?” Harry asked, feeling slightly annoyed but trying to keep his voice cool.

Ron didn’t turn his head to look at Harry, he was just staring up at the canopy of his bed.

“Sure why not, you’re probably busy with Cho... friends don’t come first for you anyway.”

“So it is about her, isn’t it?” Harry said, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with me going on a date with her?”

Ron sat up again and glared at him, his freckles standing out sharply against his cheeks.

“I didn’t say anything was wrong with you going out with her!”

“Yes you did! You were having a fit this morning when I got an owl from her! Or did you already forget about that?”

“I was NOT having a fit!”

“Yes you were!”

“No I bloody wasn’t! I don’t care a crap about who you go out with! Hell, you could go out with Malfoy and I wouldn’t give a damn!”

Harry’s mouth dropped open in disgust.

“That’s just gross, Ron! Take that back!”

“Then quit bothering me!”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

“Be an arse! Like I care!” and Harry stormed out of the dormitory and slammed the door behind him. When he returned to the common room, Hermione was still there, her eyes wide and curious.

“What were you two shouting about? I could hear you all the way down here.”

“No idea,” Harry hrmphed angrily. “He’s got a problem with me going out with Cho but he won’t admit it.” He snapped his head around sharply to look at Hermione. “Why would he have a problem with me and her anyway?”

Hermione bit her lip uncertainly. “Well, it’s obvious that he’s a bit jealous, isn’t it? I mean not of you or Cho specifically, but just the fact that you’ve got someone now. He’s....” she blushed pink. “He hasn’t got anyone yet...”

Harry’s anger simmered down at that and he suddenly regretted blowing up at Ron like he had. What a great best friend he was.

“But that doesn’t give him an excuse to be an arse about it,” he protested halfheartedly. “I mean, it just makes everything more complicated.”

Hermione nodded and buried her red nose in her book.

“He’ll come around Harry. Don’t worry.”

The conversation ended there and Harry considered for a moment, going up to talk to Ron again, but his pride was still very ticked off and so he decided that he’d give it few more hours to cool down.

His jaw was aching pretty badly now, thanks to the shouting match upstairs, and even though the swelling had gone down, the pain was still there and sharp. He told Hermione he was going to visit the infirmary to get some ice for it and left Gryffindor Tower quickly.

“Not another fight, Mr. Potter?” Madam Pomfrey tutted when he walked into the hospital wing with his hand over his jaw. “Second one I’ve had to treat today. Fighting over silly things no doubt.”

She examined his bruised jaw and tapped it lightly with her wand.

“There you are, good as new.”

“Thanks, Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said, trying out his de-pained jaw with ease.

“Now mind you keep out of any more fights, young man,” she scolded severely, placing her wand back into her apron pocket.

Harry nodded obediently and was about to turn around to leave when he caught sight of someone sitting on a stool on the other side of the room, staring at him.

“Malfoy,” Harry said coldly, sneering at the bandage that was taped across the bridge of Malfoy’s nose. He was proud to know that he’d been the one to cause that damage. “How’s your nose doing?”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed and flickered, his lips pursing into a hard, thin line.

“Thanks for the concern, but it’s doing fine,” the blonde spat in a nasally voice, and then wincing and clutching his nose.

“Now boys, no more arguing!” Madam Pomfrey interrupted, uncorking a vial of purple potion and handing it to Malfoy. “Drink this, and you may leave, Mr. Malfoy.”

Malfoy shot Harry a icy glare before tipping the contents of the vial past his lips and then standing up.

Harry turned and left the infirmary, intent on leaving before Malfoy could catch up with him and hex him into oblivion for temporarily deforming his perfect face.

But when he heard Malfoy snarl “Potter!” from behind him, he stopped and braced himself, plunging his hand into his robes even though he knew it was too late.

He was surprised to say the least when Malfoy appeared beside him, both hands empty except for a small pack of ice which he was holding gingerly to his nose.

“No need to get all feisty, Potter,” he heard the blonde smirk in that same nasally voice that didn’t suit him at all. Harry almost laughed outloud but he managed to suppress it by biting the inside of his cheek. “No one’s ever broken my nose before, hell no one’s ever broken anything of mine before. You must be proud of yourself.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Yeah, pretty proud,” he answered nonchalantly. “I did even more damage to you than Zabini did to me, and he’s pretty big you know?”

Malfoy scowled. “Damage, my arse. I could have knocked you out easily, Potter and you’d have had to suffer more than just broken bones.”

“Oh? Is ickle-ferret-poo threatening me?” Harry mocked, pointedly looking at Malfoy’s bandaged nose, making Malfoy scowl even more.

“No Potter,” he retorted arrogantly, lowering his ice. “That would be a waste of my precious time. I’ve got better things to do, unlike you, then threatening less intelligent beings.”

Harry frowned indignantly. “Less intelligent am I? And who said you had more brain then me? Quit daydreaming, Malfoy.”

“Well, crushing on a soggy tissue like Chang wouldn’t be something I’d call intelligent, but I already knew you were the hoi polloi from the first day of school. We don’t compare much, do we?” Malfoy spread out his arms as if to display himself smugly.

Harry snorted. Yeah so Malfoy was more fortunate than him in the physical appearance department, but when it came to wit, to courage, to everything else, Malfoy was scum. A cheating, lying, conniving little prick.

“I’d like to hear you say that to my face tomorrow after I’ve caught the snitch from right under your nose,” he replied smoothly.

“Such wishful thinking -” Malfoy clucked his tongue in mock sympathy. “Must be what goes on in the mind of a celebrity, hm?”

“Whatever, Malfoy. Just get off my case and go bug someone else.” Harry turned on his heel to walk away, but Malfoy stopped him again.

“Potter.”

“What?” Harry said, exasperated.

A thin, white hand extended itself toward Harry and he stared at it feeling very bewildered.

“Good luck tomorrow,” Malfoy said, and Harry thought he’d misheard him. Or that he’d overlooked the sarcasm in his tone.

“What?” he repeated lamely.

Malfoy raised his hand higher. “I said ‘good luck tomorrow’. You should really get your ears checked.”

Harry stared at the hand, and then back up at Malfoy, suspicious. But there wasn’t any trace of a smirk on his pale face, and he didn’t lower that hand that was extended. It was oddly like experiencing a déjà vu... five years ago... a tableaux almost exactly like this...

Shaking his head, he grasped the hand before him and smiled.

“Good luck to you too, Malfoy,” and he walked away without a backward glance.

That evening during dinner, everything felt so strange and out of place. Ron was apparently still pissed at him, Hermione was trying hard to get them to talk, Cho came over from the Ravenclaw table to talk to him, giving him a shy kiss on the cheek before leaving (making Ron even more upset), Seamus was making risqué comments that made him shudder, and Malfoy was back to sneering and smirking at him from the Slytherin table along with the rest of his good-for-nothing housemates.

By the end of dinner, he felt so annoyed by everything around him that he just wanted to stand up and shout “LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!” and storm off to the Gryffindor Tower, but decided against it because that would just draw more attention to himself. Attention was never good.

He was very grateful when Dean did the favor of telling Seamus to ‘Shut up already! We know you’re gay, but do you have to be annoying too??’, and Ron did the favor of shushing Hermione up by growling and brandishing his fork menacingly, although that only insulted her and made her stab moodily at her chicken and gravy the rest of dinner.

Overall, it was chaotic and highly irritable for the entire lot of sixth year Gryffindors. They were all relieved when dinner came to a closure and it was time for the Great Hall to empty. Ron and Hermione stayed behind to attend a prefect meeting and so Harry made his way up the staircases to the tower alone.

He declined an invite to join Dean, Seamus, and Neville in a game of Exploding Snap, claiming that he had to work on some unfinished homework and seated himself at one of the round tables in the corners of the common room with his books and parchment. He could hardly concentrate enough to get past reading the second page of the assigment however because his mind was so busy and so full of the upcoming Quidditch match against Slytherin. That confidence Malfoy seemed to have earlier that day unnerved him a bit and made him want to go out to the pitch and practice more, but alas, it was snowing a blizzard outside and past curfew by the time that thought came to his mind. He was forced to abandon the idea and continue with reading the same sentence in his book over and over again.

Hermione and Ron returned at a quarter past nine, and they didn’t seem to be talking yet either. Hermione joined Harry at the table, dumping her bookbag on the table a little harshly and Ron, without even so much as glancing in Harry’s direction, went to include himself in the game the other boys were playing.

Harry sighed audibly and picked up his quill again, filling in random numbers into his star chart and feeling very put out.

“He’ll come around by tomorrow, Harry. Don’t worry,” Hermione reassured him tartly, in a tone that clearly told him that she didn’t really believe her own words at all. Harry just shrugged and let everything else drown out around him.
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The Amour