Dangerous Connection | By : TheLabRat Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3198 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one, but the plotline. Everything HP is owned by J.k. Rowling and associates. I make no money from this. |
A/N: Hello again, everyone. I know this isn't any of the stories that I'd promised, and I know it's been a while, but this decided that it wanted attention first... And who am I to deny my muses? This is my first posting ever for this fandom, anywhere. Though it is not the first story, and was actually completed some time ago, it is being reworked and the editing kind of took over as the plot developed into something much larger then it's original 5K word count. Interesting side note, the original name for this fic was 'Look My Way' but changed to the name of the song I've been listening to on repeat while editing/rewriting it. I recommend listening to it if you have the time. It's by O.A.R. Please review! Let me know what you think. Also, flames keep me warm AND entertained. *Evil laughter echoes* Now, on with the story...
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Blue grey eyes were on me again. They watched my every move. I could feel it as if it were an actual touch, a caress, to my skin. I don't know exactly when it happened. Can't remember when it started. This game between us... I always knew when he was near, though. When his sight was narrowed to only me. And the more it happened, the more I found I liked it. It was strange but he's been watching me for so long, that I anticipated it… longed for it even. Which made no sense at all.
Harry Potter longing for Draco Malfoy's cool gaze…
If only people knew. It would no doubt cause quite the stir. But honestly, I didn't much care. I mean… everything I do seems to cause a stir for one reason or another, so I've just learned to ignore it as best I can. But you know, as much as I dislike being the center of attention… I can't help but revel in the fact that more often then not, I'm the center of his attention.
Foolish of me, I know.
Still, I found my eyes searching him out whenever he was near. Found that my day was incomplete, if it so happened that we didn't speak… Though, truthfully, he always cornered me at least once a day. His words were always biting and cold, like the first frost, but his touch… his hands were always warm.
Warm and tempting.
Tempting, in such a way that I had no real words to describe it. I started picking fights with him in fifth year. I had no idea why I was doing it, then. Only knew that I needed to… ignorant as that may sound. And though I knew it was odd, knew that there was something off about this sudden need to be physical… I found I didn't much care. Plus, luck seemed to be in my favor. At least, in that regard. It had miraculously gone unnoticed by everyone. Well… everyone except Draco himself, of course.
He'd cornered my one night, up in the owlry. To this day I don't know how he'd found me. Maybe he'd been following me regularly and had learned my pattern? Perhaps that's how he'd known where I'd go? It's entirely possible, knowing him. Still, the fact remains that he'd cornered me. I'd say literally but there are no actual corners up there. No, instead he jumped out from the shadows and managed to pin me against the wall, without so much as a warning. And yes, I admit, that the initial shock of the grey-blue of his eyes so close to mine took a moment to overcome.
But that wasn't what kept me from struggling.
His cheeks were ruddy, as if he'd been out there for some time. And his breathing was harsh and labored while his hands pressed me forcefully, back into the wall. To make sure, I assume, that I didn't try and run. Though, really, there was no need for such drastic measures. His eyes alone could keep me stationary for as long as he liked. He had but not to blink.
"What the devil is wrong with you, Potter?"
Again, I blinked. Having no idea what he was going on about. "Begging your pardon, Malfoy… but I'm the one being pinned here, not the other way around. I only came out here to think. Not quarrel." He laughed humorlessly, while he took the time to scrutinize my face. In such a way that I couldn't help but fidget nervously…
"You've been different lately… something's off. And bugger all if I know why, but it seems I'm the only one to notice... probably because you've been trying to use me as a veritable punching bag. Care to elaborate on that one, do you?"
His voice held none of the usual malice. Which was so strange to hear. Especially when he was speaking to me. No, if anything, he seemed curious, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he'd sounded slightly put out. "I've done no such thing. I can count the times I've actually punched you on one hand. And none of those times were recent…"
He cut me off and leaned a little closer, a self-satisfied smirk gracing his pale pink lips. "Ah, but that's the real question, isn't it? You start all these fights, but you haven't… you don't even raise your wand. Hell, you don't even punch me! But god damn it, I refuse to be shoved into another wall, or end up rolling around with you on the floor again… like… like some bloody muggle!"
I moved to swing at him, purely out of reflex, but stopped short when I realized he actually hadn't said anything wrong. He decided to continue, seeing as I'd made no move to respond verbally. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but it's strange. Even for you…" And he was right. I was strange. Because I couldn't stop staring at the way the candles illuminated his hair as the white-blonde tresses, left un-gelled for once, fell just above his eyes. Couldn't stop staring at his lips whenever his tongue peaked out to wet them, a nervous habit he had, that I was certain even he wasn't aware of. I simply couldn't look away from his heated gaze, and a fire totally unrelated but entirely his fault had lit somewhere deep in my belly. With that realization came a jolt of uncertainty and I wildly looked about the room, knowing only one thing. I needed to get away. Now.
"Let off, Malfoy." It was more of a weak plea then the demand I'd intended, and he'd noticed that too. His eyes widened just the tiniest bit before they narrowed, and his grip on me tightened. Our proximity was too much, I think. Because my breath, I couldn't seem to catch it, and my heart thudded so terribly loudly that I was certain he could hear every single erratic beat. He was just staring into my eyes. Seemingly searching for something. Whatever it was, he must have found it, because his trademark smirk surfaced, but it was different this time. Because there was no trace of mocking or distain in his face… and then there wasn't much room for thoughts about anything else.
He was just… beautiful.
"So that's it, is it?"
I had no idea what he was going on about, but I couldn't help watching his lips move while he spoke. I had to look back up into his eyes a second later, though. Because he leaned closer, for just a second, and I found I couldn't breathe at all.
My eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments, but then, just like that… he was gone. I panicked and re-opened them, only to see that he was by the door, some twenty feet away. He wasn't looking at me, he'd had his back turned, but he spoke over his shoulder.
"Just be sure, Potter, that when you start something with me… you know exactly what it is you're starting." Baffled, I stood there dumbly, blinking in confusion. Long after he'd vanished through the doorway, I still stood there, at a total loss. Just what in blue blazes was that supposed to mean? I mean, really? An hour had passed, at least, and I'd still had no idea. But by then, I'd decided that enough was enough. I needed some sleep after all.
When I returned to Gryffindor tower, I changed into my pajamas and went to bed quietly. I made no move to wake Ron. Nor did I plan on telling him or Hermione about any of the events that had played out that night. It somehow felt too personal… too private. For once I felt like they were moments that belonged me alone. Or rather… to Malfoy and I alone. What that meant, exactly?
Well, I hadn't reasoned that out just yet.
It would be the length of another year entirely, before a second moment that I couldn't quantify occurred between Malfoy and I.
Just after Christmas.
It was I who'd cornered him this time. But not for the reason one might expect. I hadn't followed him looking or a fight. I'd followed him because I'd thought I'd seen something so utterly impossible that I'd had no choice. I had to disprove it. We'd just left Potions, Snape being as snarky and as menacing as he ever was, when I'd noticed… Malfoy had been walking ahead of everyone. Making a point to keep his head down, something so very unlike him that I couldn't help but be curious. I jogged up to him and reached out, not really sure of what I'd expected to find. But when his eyes met mine, for the briefest moment, I'd thought I'd seen pain barely contained within them. And not the usual sort… Nothing physical. No, it was something deeper. Something most anyone else wouldn't notice. But it was there. And I'd know that type of torment anywhere.
After all, I'd seen it every day within my own reflection for my entire life. He shoved me away wordlessly and carried on down the corridor, his shoulders hunched… and I almost let him go.
But I knew he was suffering. And something made me follow.
He led me out onto the grounds, halfway towards the Quidditch pitch. And I say led because though I didn't know it then, that's what he'd been intending. I saw him stop, but I kept walking. Closing the distance until there was less then five feet of space between us.
That was when he rounded on me. Eyes furious and intent.
"I hate you!"
The force with which it had been spoken blew me away. Not because of the volume, but because of the emotion behind it.
He stepped closer, slowly. Though I'd been shocked into place since he'd spoken, it seemed to be what set him in motion. I'd time to blink twice before he was close enough to touch with my hand. It would have been easy; I had only but to lift it. It surprised me when he stepped closer still. So close… that our noses could brush if either of us inhaled too heavily.
His breath erratic, but slowing, fanned over my lower jaw... It made my own breath stutter and catch in turn.
"I hate you… I hate you and I hate this… all of it. Can't stand it any longer. It's your fault, you know? That I'm in such a state…" He'd started out in a low clear voice but he'd ended in a whisper… and his eyes kept flicking down for a moment and then back up to meet mine.
I had the strangest urge to close the minuscule space between us.
To what point and purpose? I hadn't the foggiest. Which is what made it so very strange in the first place.
"I'm sorry…"
The words were out before I'd even realized I'd been thinking them. But they were true, just the same. I was sorry. Why? I had no idea… other then the fact that somehow I knew he wasn't lying. Somehow, some way… it was a fact. The pain in his eyes was entirely my fault.
And that hurt me too… for reasons I couldn't explain. Not just then, anyway.
I opened my mouth again to speak, but I didn't know what else to say, really. So I just left the apology hanging there. And I stood… Frozen in place while he looked right through me, into my very core.
"I told you, Potter… I told you. You shouldn't blindly stumble into something without knowing the consequences… But you've already started this, haven't you?" I swallowed thickly, my mouth suddenly very dry. He'd moved even closer, our chests brushing every few seconds. Breathing that last part right into my ear, and all I could think about was how good he smelled. How fair his skin really was.
"And now I can't help myself. I can't even get through a single bloody day without thinking about…" And he'd trailed off then. Backing away ever so slowly while he shook his head. Whether it was to clear his mind or to wash away whatever he'd been about to say, I'd never know. And it was only then, when he was more then ten feet away from me again, that I actually felt the chill of the night air around us. The heat from his body, and eyes, had kept me warm… but now both were gone. He'd turned around again, facing the pitch this time.
"Just leave me be." I moved to ignore his request and took a step forward, unsure of what I wanted to say, only knowing that I should speak. He rounded on me once again. "Leave off, Harry. Go back to your perfect little tower with your perfect little life and let me be."
I furrowed my brow, utterly perplexed. Because the way he said my name… Something in the way his voice trembled… It just, it didn't sound like he wanted me to leave at all, despite his words to the contrary.
"I can't."
Two words and I had his undivided attention. Every fiber of him focused on me and nothing else. I found I liked that, very much indeed… So I kept speaking.
"I haven't been able to leave you alone for five years. What in the world makes you think I could possibly start now?" He laughed, then. Actually laughed. And it shocked me, because it was such a genuine sound, one I realized I hadn't heard much at all through the past few months. Not once in the corridors was he laughing and joking with his friends this year. And I knew that that had somehow been my fault as well.
"I'm serious. I can't. I've tried to. Really, I have… But you're always there, and it's like I have no choice. I have to react…"
He cut me off with a wave of his hand.
"Come to me when you've decided what it is that you want here, Potter. I don't want to hear another word until then." And the way he said that, with such finality, I'd no choice but to nod. Even though I had no idea what he'd been talking about, or even what I'd agreed to… It was all circles and riddles.
If he would just speak plainly…
I'd glanced down for a few moments, and when I looked back up again, I found him gone. Like one of the many ghosts that haunt the school, and I wondered how he'd managed that. But strangely, I wasn't surprised by it.
It was only a few short months after that, that Ginny and I had started dating. I'd thought for sure that the person who'd have the most to say on the matter would be Malfoy. And I wasn't the only one… But whenever I looked for his face in the Great Hall, he was nowhere to be found. Whenever we had lessons together, it was like he wouldn't even look at me, didn't see me. A fact that bothered me more and more as time went on. But I did nothing. I remained silent and settled for watching him whenever the opportunity struck. That year had ended soon after and summer with the Dursley's hadn't been a prospect I'd been looking forward to… But Ron had promised to rescue me so I'd simply waited it out. And rescue me, he did.
Ginny and I hadn't even lasted through the latter half of that summer, though. Not because her attraction to me had lessened any. No. It had actually been entirely my doing. There had been no spark when we'd kissed. More to the point… There hadn't been anything at all. No butterflies in my stomach. No tingle in my lips. No spark… just… Nothing. And I'd told her so. Looking back on it, I sometimes think that perhaps that hadn't been wise. I could have been a bit more tactful or something, but alas I was young then. At first she wouldn't hear it, and then, when she finally did… well, she'd fallen under the impression that she'd done something wrong. But I think it's pretty difficult to muck up something as simple as pressing your lips to someone else's. And I'd told her that too.
That summer had been lonely and then rather awkward, so I'd been glad to see it go.
And then our final year had come...
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