Merlin/HP ch.3
Chapter 3: Bugger off, already.
Nimueh gave a satisfied smirk as she watched the two boys disappear. Oh, it was too easy. Now that Merlin and Arthur had been removed, it was time to return to Camelot. Of course, she wouldn't be able to keep track of the two as they were out of her reach. She could always keep in touch with her lovely ally, though.
Waving her hand over the crystal bowl one more time, she walked out of the room slowly, lifting the hood of her cloak up. It was time to meet Uther.
Harry Potter had not been having a very good day. Of course, it was a Monday, which could be an excuse. Mondays were the days he despised the most; it was when he had to go back to classes, pay attention, and more importantly, the days where he was back to seeing Malfoy.
Just that morning, he had a strange dream. He dreamed that he had met King Arthur and the most renowned wizard of all time, Merlin himself! He laughed to himself- it was one of the craziest dreams he had ever had. Of course, what was even odder about the dream was the fact that Malfoy was right by his side. Harry's face turned into a scowl at the thought. Of course Malfoy always had to ruin everything.
But that wasn't the worst thing. The worst thing in his dream was something that he refused to believe, and refused to even think about. It was the fact that Malfoy had such a trusting look on his face and a look of utter devotion as he stared into Harry's eyes. And the fact that he had leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his lips-
Oh, bloody hell! Harry thought to himself. Though he flat-out refused to admit it, he couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. Though it disgusted him, it also turned him on slightly. But only slightly. He caught himself touching his lips throughout class, as if trying to feel his lips on his-
It's Malfoy! The prat that's made your life a living hell! And he's a bloke to top it off! You shouldn't be thinking these things! His conscience screamed at him. Those thoughts calmed him down a bit. Harry knew he wasn't gay- he couldn't be. He had never looked at any guys that way. At least, not until that morning. He ground his teeth in frustration, willing all those thoughts to go away….
Anyways, back to Harry's bad day.
When he had woken up from his crazy disturbing-but-yet-intriguing-dream, he had laid in bed for a few seconds, pondering. Right after, Harry had checked the time.
"Tempus," he had whispered. His wand glowed brightly, scattering an image across the bed. It was…7:50.
Fuck.
Harry had zoomed out of bed, scrambling into his robes. He brushed his teeth in a flash, skipping over a shower. He could live without one for the day. He didn't have any time for breakfast, which had his stomach growling in protest.
If it had been any other class, he wouldn't have cared as much. He had only missed five minutes of the lessons so far. But the class he had first period was Potions. Oh, Snape was going to love the fact that Harry Potter was five minutes and fifteen seconds late to class (Not that he was counting or anything).Why hadn't Ron, Seamus, or even Neville woken him? They all had the class together! He didn't have time to think through that thought, before he arrived at the doors to the Potions class room.
Taking a deep breath, he swung open the doors and strode into the classroom, trying to feel more confident than he really was.
Just as Harry had expected, Snape stopped mid-lecture with a snirk (a sneer and a smirk) on his face. It was only a look Snape could pull off. Or Malfoy. No thinking of Malfoy!
Snape dropped his hands from where they had been waving in the air, demonstrating the correct way to stir a potion. His snirk still upon his face, he walked towards Harry at a leisurely pace, hands tucked behind his back.
"Well, well, well." He drawled, stopping only a foot away from him, "Look what we have here."
Harry gulped. The look upon Snape's face made him nauseous. It was a good thing he hadn't had breakfast that morning. He looked towards where he knew Ron and Hermione where sitting. They both had identical looks of horror on their face. Ron was mouthing words at him frantically, but Harry couldn't tell what he was saying.
"Potter, you are five minutes late." Snape continued with a hiss, "Overslept didn't you?" Snape sniffed daintily at him, "and apparently, you didn't even take the time for a shower." He said with a sneer.
Harry heard laughter bubbling from a certain Slytherin area. He glanced over, watching Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy giggle with glee upon their faces. He frowned, when he noticed that Malfoy seemed to be missing. It wasn't his problem though. He turned back to face Snape, bracing himself for punishment.
"Fifty-five points from Gryffindor." Snape said. There was a murmur of outrage from all the Gryffindor in the class. "Twenty more, since Gryffindors can seem to keep their mouths shut."
Harry glared at Snape's back as he took his seat next to Ron.
"Harry! Where were you, mate? The curtains around your bed wouldn't open! We thought you just wanted some privacy…" Ron said, trailing off, a faint blush on his face, "You were, er, moaning, mate." He flushed an even deeper red.
"Whatever, its fine, Ron." Harry muttered, trying to hide his own blush. He tried to concentrate on the lesson, but to no avail. It would be just his luck to be late to Potions of all classes. And to lose his house seventy-five points in one sitting. It was an outrageous amount of points to lose, especially since the school year had barely started.
"….be brewing the Befuddlement Draught. Now this is a simple potion, but requires…"
Harry gave a sigh of resignation. It was going to be a long day.
On the other side of Hogwarts, running through the halls with his hair disarray, was a certain blonde Slytherin. Oh, if Harry had thought he had a bad morning, Draco Malfoy had the worst morning of his life.
Like Harry, he had also had quite the disturbing dream. It had started off nicely- he was talking to King Arthur and Merlin! The greatest wizard of all! Even thought it was just a dream, Malfoy couldn't help but feel smug. Who else would meet King Arthur and bloody Merlin in their dreams?
But then things had taken a turn for the worst.
Out of nowhere, Potter just had to show up right beside him.
What the hell? Malfoy had been thinking. What the fuck are you doing in my dream, Potter? Get out!
But Potter didn't move anywhere. Instead, Potter had been looking right at him, a smile in his eyes. And then Malfoy felt himself being propelled forward, leaning in to Potter's face, and kissing him. And oh it had been a brilliant kiss. Who knew Potter was so-
Draco Malfoy let out a scream that could rival the portrait of Sirius's mum.
This had to be the worst nightmare he had ever had. Screw Arthur and Merlin, screw Potter, and screw….whatever. What kind of twisted dream had that been? Who in their right mind would kiss Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Know-It-All-Git?
Shaking his head, Malfoy had gotten out of bed and directly to the showers. He took his time, leisurely rubbing shampoo and conditioner through his hair, breathing in the sweet vanilla scent. Twenty minutes later, he had stepped out of the shower and dried off, preparing to style his hair. It was then he realized that he brush seemed to have gone missing.
Malfoy frowned. There was only one person who would dare to take his brush.
"Hey Blaise! Zabini! Where in the bloody hell are you-" It was also then that Malfoy realized the dorms were completely deserted. He paled suddenly, hair forgotten. His skin, already so pale, turned white. Oh, nonononono, he thought, reaching for his wand. He had cast Tempus to check the time, and had nearly fainted. Not something he would admit.
It was 8:20! Potions had started over half an hour ago! Oh, he was so in for it. Screw the fact that he was Snape's favorite; (and the fact he was his godson) Snape was going to rip him limb from limb.
He grabbed all his books in a blind rush, and sped out of the common room as gracefully as he could. His hair, still forgotten, flew around his face in disarray. A fourth year darted around the corner, hall pass in hand.
He stared at Malfoy with large eyes, and those eyes drifted from his hair to his face…and back again.
"What are you looking at?" Malfoy snapped, trying to save his dignity. The fourth year had scampered away in fright, though he still looked on the brink of a smirk.
After making sure no one else was in the hall, Malfoy set off once again on a run to the Potions room. Once there, he ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to make it look neat. He gave up after a few seconds with a scowl, before opening the doors. Time to show everyone what Malfoys were about.
All heads swiveled towards the door to the Potions room, as they opened for the second time.
In strode a haughty looking Draco Malfoy, his hair perfectly in place, a snirk upon his face. "Sorry I'm late, Professor," he said, with an air of disinterest. "I wasn't feeling very well this morning."
Harry looked towards Snape to see what he would say, though he had a sinking feeling what it was, considering the identical snirk he had upon his face.
"Mr. Malfoy." Snape said, "Please sit in your seat. Try not to be late again." At this, he walked back to the front of the classroom.
There were mutters of outrage around the class at the fact that, once again, Malfoy had evaded the wraith of Snape.
Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, his face twisted in anger. "This is so unfair!" He hissed as he furiously chopped up scurvy leaves for the potion, "I was only five minutes late, and I got docked one hundred and twenty points! Malfoys half an hour late and-"
He stopped when he realized that Malfoy was standing right next to his desk, and a little too close for his comfort. Malfoy bent down, sneering at him.
"Might want to watch what you say, Potter," He spat out the last word with venom, "don't want to lose any more points for your house, do you? I saw your cup on my way here. Those rubies are dwindling to nothing. Guess we'll know who will be winning the House Cup this year won't we."
He stood back up, turning perfectly on spot, walking over to his table.
"Oi! Bloody git! I'm gonna get that prat and beat his face in!" Ron muttered, his face red as he made to stand up. He only stopped when Harry gripped his arm, his face blank.
"Don't, Ron," he whispered, "Don't do anything that will give Snape another reason to dock us points."
Ron sat back down, but looked at him in worry. He exchanged a glance with Hermione, and the latter spoke in a timid voice.
"Are you ok, Harry? You look a little pale."
Harry took in a deep breath. He felt fine. He was just in a slight daze…Fuck, Malfoy had smelled amazing. A warm, vanilla scent that just wrapped you up-
"Harry? Oi! Harry!"
Harry shook himself out of his thoughts, looking into Ron's worried eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Justa bit tired." He replied, giving his friends a weak smile. It seemed to work, for Ron and Hermione started back to the potion. He passed them the leaves, and watched with only faint interest as the potion bubbled and turned a sweet light blue. Instead, he sneaked a glance over at where Malfoy sat next to Pansy.
I just want to see what other shit he's up to, he thought. His gaze traveled to those piercing grey eyes that were looking determinedly at the potion in front of them. Then his gaze traveled to those plump, pink lips, just begging to be snogged-
Malfoy suddenly looked right at him, and right into his eyes. Those silver eyes narrowed at him, almost accusingly.
Oh, bloody hell. Harry gulped, tearing his gaze away. He gave yet another sigh of relief when he realized class was over. He looked over at his friends who were bottling up the days potion, and a sense of guilt washed over him. He hadn't helped at all.
Hermione looked over at him, as if sensing his discomfort. Go, she mouthed, waving at him.
Harry shot her a grateful smile, walking briskly out of the room. He knew that he would probably get a mouthful later, but he was fine for the moment. Though he did not realize it at the moment, one certain Slytherin had followed him out of the Potions room, and down the hall that led him outside.
Harry took in a breath of fresh air as he arrived outside. He strode down the path to Hagrid's hut, feeling completely relaxed. He knew he still had a few minutes before his next class, and he needed a place to think quietly.
He stopped halfway down the path, and fell down back on the grass. He put his hands behind his head, content to just lay there and look up at the clouds.
A few feet behind Harry, Malfoy stood with an incredulous look upon his face. Did Potter really just come out here to take a nap? Typical, Malfoy snorted. He was probably going to end up missing his next class. Not that he cared.
Before he knew what was happening, Malfoy found his legs moving forward towards Harry, most definitely without his consent. The next thing he knew, he was standing right next to Potter's face. There was an awkward silence between them, before Harry suddenly jumped up, running his hands through his hair.
Fuck, Harry thought. Why did Malfoy always have to ruin everything? He began to run his hands through his hair again, when a firm grip suddenly caught his wrist. He looked up in surprise, looking into silver eyes that looked amused. What surprised Harry the most was that there was no malice in this look, although some annoyance.
"Will you stop doing that, Potter?" Malfoy snapped, "Your hair is already enough of a mess."
Harry flushed, though he didn't make any comment. He lowered his hand, very aware of the fact that Malfoy had yet to remove his hand around from his wrist. He coughed, as if hoping that would help Malfoy snap out of whatever daze he was in.
It worked. Malfoy, busy staring at those vivid green eyes, suddenly dropped Harry's arm as if it was poisoned. He crossed his arms, huffing in annoyance. And in discomfort. "Honestly, I don't know why I'm even bothering." He said, "But are you intent on failing all your classes? You've been late to Potions, and you're going to be late to Divinat-"He stopped. He was not supposed to know that. The only reason he did know what because, well, he had followed him once but-
Harry glanced at him suspiciously from under his bangs. "How did you know I have Divination next, Malfoy?" He asked, fists clenching.
Said boy gulped, and then inspiration struck. "I saw the Weasel and that stupid Mudblood on their way there a few days ago, talking about how you had been acting oddly," he replied, daring Harry to…to do what he didn't know.
Harry's knuckles were now going white from how hard he was clenching his fists.
"Don't. Call. Them. That." He said, his voice quiet but menacing.
"What? Weasly is a Weasel. Bloody bloody traitor. And that idiotic Granger who thinks she knows everything is a fucking mudblood! It's the truth. They're both unworthy of-"
Unworthy of what he never did get to explain, before Harry punched him in the face. It wasn't hard enough to break anything, but it was hard enough to throw him onto the ground, leaving him dazed.
Before he could haul himself back to his feet, Harry was in his face, eyes ablaze. Damn, Harry is definitely sexy when he's mad. Draco thought. Wait- did I just call him Harry? He's Potter! Insufferable git.
"How dare you, Malfoy." Harry spat out, his words coming out slow and full of anger. "What gives you the right to pick on my friends like that? What have they ever done to you? Huh?"
Harry got back up, shouting at Malfoy now. "You always act like you're above everyone else, when you're not! You're fathers a bloody Death Eater, and you probably are a bloody Death Eater and-and your mom is Voldemort's slut-" Harry cut off, his face a mask of guilt when he saw Malfoy get up, looking…hurt.
"I'm…I'm sorry, Malfoy." He attempted to apologize, though he didn't know why. Maybe it was because of the fact Malfoy looked stricken, and hurt. And because of the fact that for once in his life, Malfoy looked human.
"Don't you dare talk about my mother that way, Potter," his voice calm and collected. Harry could tell it was just a mask by the emotions swimming in his eyes. "You don't know anything about me. Or about my family. So don't talk about me like you do know me." He hissed.
He suddenly closed the distance between them, standing in front of Harry so they were chest to chest. For one crazy second, Harry thought he was going to kiss him, until he received a blow into the stomach that had him winded. Then another blow struck into his head, and he could feel his glasses break as he sprawled onto the ground.
He scrambled back onto his feet, anger running through him again. But before he could retaliate, a sudden thud in the forest behind them grabbed his attention. Harry could tell Malfoy had heard it too by the uncertain look on his face.
Harry gingerly picked up his glasses, waving his wand at them. "Episkey," he muttered. He watched as his glasses fixed himself. Satisfied, he put them back on, turning back to face Malfoy, who had an odd expression his face.
"I didn't know you could use that spell to fix...inanimate objects," was all he said.
"Yeah." Harry replied, still feeling angry. He started towards Malfoy, but then the latter suddenly paled. He held up his hand at Harry, telling him to be quiet.
Harry was puzzled at first, until he heard voices coming out from the forest. They were voices that he did not know, and they had quite an odd accent. He held out his wand in front of him cautiously, watching Malfoy do the same thing beside him. He crept forward, seeing silhouettes slowly appear.
And then, the bodies of two men appeared. They looked like they were in their twenties or thirties maybe, and were wearing old-fashioned clothing. It was like the kind of clothing that Harry saw in old muggle movies about…old times.
When the two men saw him and Draco, they stopped abruptly.
"Stop right there."
After what had felt like hours, Merlin and Arthur came to a stop, both falling to the ground with a loud thud.
Merlin groaned, rubbing his back where he had fallen. He reached for the chain around his neck, before realizing that it had disappeared. He looked over towards where Arthur lay.
"Arthur," he whispered, "Arthur! Are you alright?"
Arthur gave an even louder groan, straining to get up. "What the bloody hell was that?" He asked.
Merlin shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, Arthur. But I think it was….magic."
Arthur's eyes widened. "Well, then we must get back to Camelot and tell my father."
Merlin swallowed nervously, "The thing is Arthur, I don't think we're in Camelot anymore. Or anyplace near Camelot. "
"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. Where else could we be? We're still in the fore-" Arthur stopped speaking as he looked around himself. He shivered in spite of himself. This was definitely not the forest they had been in. Of course, the stubborn part of his brain rejected those thoughts, and replaced them with others. All they had to do was get out and find help, and they should be fine.
"Come on, Merlin." He said, walking forwards, "Let's get out of here."
Though he was still feeling suspicious of the area, Merlin nodded and followed Arthur.
After a few minutes, they finally arrived at the entrance to the forest. Thank goodness, Merlin thought, running past Arthur. He heard Arthur running up behind him, muttering about not taking off so quickly, when there could be danger lurking around any corner.
They finally came out into the open, and they both took identical breathes of relief. They examined the area around them, not quite sure where they were. They were in front of a castle, one very old and grand. It was one neither of the two had ever seen before. It rose out of the hills, sparkling in the sunlight.
Of course, they only had been able to admire it for a few seconds when Arthur realized that there were two people standing in front of them. Both whom were holding sticks. He stepped forward, preparing to ask for assistance, when the blonde pointed his stick directly at him.
"Stop right there," he said, his voice shaky but determined.
Arthur scoffed. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" He asked.
The second person, the black-haired one, spoke up. "Well, who are you?" He asked.
"Who are you?" Arthur retaliated.
The black-haired gave him a look of surprise. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."
Nimueh gave a satisfied smirk as she watched the two boys disappear. Oh, it was too easy. Now that Merlin and Arthur had been removed, it was time to return to Camelot. Of course, she wouldn't be able to keep track of the two as they were out of her reach. She could always keep in touch with her lovely ally, though.
Waving her hand over the crystal bowl one more time, she walked out of the room slowly, lifting the hood of her cloak up. It was time to meet Uther.
Harry Potter had not been having a very good day. Of course, it was a Monday, which could be an excuse. Mondays were the days he despised the most; it was when he had to go back to classes, pay attention, and more importantly, the days where he was back to seeing Malfoy.
Just that morning, he had a strange dream. He dreamed that he had met King Arthur and the most renowned wizard of all time, Merlin himself! He laughed to himself- it was one of the craziest dreams he had ever had. Of course, what was even odder about the dream was the fact that Malfoy was right by his side. Harry's face turned into a scowl at the thought. Of course Malfoy always had to ruin everything.
But that wasn't the worst thing. The worst thing in his dream was something that he refused to believe, and refused to even think about. It was the fact that Malfoy had such a trusting look on his face and a look of utter devotion as he stared into Harry's eyes. And the fact that he had leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his lips-
Oh, bloody hell! Harry thought to himself. Though he flat-out refused to admit it, he couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. Though it disgusted him, it also turned him on slightly. But only slightly. He caught himself touching his lips throughout class, as if trying to feel his lips on his-
It's Malfoy! The prat that's made your life a living hell! And he's a bloke to top it off! You shouldn't be thinking these things! His conscience screamed at him. Those thoughts calmed him down a bit. Harry knew he wasn't gay- he couldn't be. He had never looked at any guys that way. At least, not until that morning. He ground his teeth in frustration, willing all those thoughts to go away….
Anyways, back to Harry's bad day.
When he had woken up from his crazy disturbing-but-yet-intriguing-dream, he had laid in bed for a few seconds, pondering. Right after, Harry had checked the time.
"Tempus," he had whispered. His wand glowed brightly, scattering an image across the bed. It was…7:50.
Fuck.
Harry had zoomed out of bed, scrambling into his robes. He brushed his teeth in a flash, skipping over a shower. He could live without one for the day. He didn't have any time for breakfast, which had his stomach growling in protest.
If it had been any other class, he wouldn't have cared as much. He had only missed five minutes of the lessons so far. But the class he had first period was Potions. Oh, Snape was going to love the fact that Harry Potter was five minutes and fifteen seconds late to class (Not that he was counting or anything).Why hadn't Ron, Seamus, or even Neville woken him? They all had the class together! He didn't have time to think through that thought, before he arrived at the doors to the Potions class room.
Taking a deep breath, he swung open the doors and strode into the classroom, trying to feel more confident than he really was.
Just as Harry had expected, Snape stopped mid-lecture with a snirk (a sneer and a smirk) on his face. It was only a look Snape could pull off. Or Malfoy. No thinking of Malfoy!
Snape dropped his hands from where they had been waving in the air, demonstrating the correct way to stir a potion. His snirk still upon his face, he walked towards Harry at a leisurely pace, hands tucked behind his back.
"Well, well, well." He drawled, stopping only a foot away from him, "Look what we have here."
Harry gulped. The look upon Snape's face made him nauseous. It was a good thing he hadn't had breakfast that morning. He looked towards where he knew Ron and Hermione where sitting. They both had identical looks of horror on their face. Ron was mouthing words at him frantically, but Harry couldn't tell what he was saying.
"Potter, you are five minutes late." Snape continued with a hiss, "Overslept didn't you?" Snape sniffed daintily at him, "and apparently, you didn't even take the time for a shower." He said with a sneer.
Harry heard laughter bubbling from a certain Slytherin area. He glanced over, watching Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy giggle with glee upon their faces. He frowned, when he noticed that Malfoy seemed to be missing. It wasn't his problem though. He turned back to face Snape, bracing himself for punishment.
"Fifty-five points from Gryffindor." Snape said. There was a murmur of outrage from all the Gryffindor in the class. "Twenty more, since Gryffindors can seem to keep their mouths shut."
Harry glared at Snape's back as he took his seat next to Ron.
"Harry! Where were you, mate? The curtains around your bed wouldn't open! We thought you just wanted some privacy…" Ron said, trailing off, a faint blush on his face, "You were, er, moaning, mate." He flushed an even deeper red.
"Whatever, its fine, Ron." Harry muttered, trying to hide his own blush. He tried to concentrate on the lesson, but to no avail. It would be just his luck to be late to Potions of all classes. And to lose his house seventy-five points in one sitting. It was an outrageous amount of points to lose, especially since the school year had barely started.
"….be brewing the Befuddlement Draught. Now this is a simple potion, but requires…"
Harry gave a sigh of resignation. It was going to be a long day.
On the other side of Hogwarts, running through the halls with his hair disarray, was a certain blonde Slytherin. Oh, if Harry had thought he had a bad morning, Draco Malfoy had the worst morning of his life.
Like Harry, he had also had quite the disturbing dream. It had started off nicely- he was talking to King Arthur and Merlin! The greatest wizard of all! Even thought it was just a dream, Malfoy couldn't help but feel smug. Who else would meet King Arthur and bloody Merlin in their dreams?
But then things had taken a turn for the worst.
Out of nowhere, Potter just had to show up right beside him.
What the hell? Malfoy had been thinking. What the fuck are you doing in my dream, Potter? Get out!
But Potter didn't move anywhere. Instead, Potter had been looking right at him, a smile in his eyes. And then Malfoy felt himself being propelled forward, leaning in to Potter's face, and kissing him. And oh it had been a brilliant kiss. Who knew Potter was so-
Draco Malfoy let out a scream that could rival the portrait of Sirius's mum.
This had to be the worst nightmare he had ever had. Screw Arthur and Merlin, screw Potter, and screw….whatever. What kind of twisted dream had that been? Who in their right mind would kiss Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Know-It-All-Git?
Shaking his head, Malfoy had gotten out of bed and directly to the showers. He took his time, leisurely rubbing shampoo and conditioner through his hair, breathing in the sweet vanilla scent. Twenty minutes later, he had stepped out of the shower and dried off, preparing to style his hair. It was then he realized that he brush seemed to have gone missing.
Malfoy frowned. There was only one person who would dare to take his brush.
"Hey Blaise! Zabini! Where in the bloody hell are you-" It was also then that Malfoy realized the dorms were completely deserted. He paled suddenly, hair forgotten. His skin, already so pale, turned white. Oh, nonononono, he thought, reaching for his wand. He had cast Tempus to check the time, and had nearly fainted. Not something he would admit.
It was 8:20! Potions had started over half an hour ago! Oh, he was so in for it. Screw the fact that he was Snape's favorite; (and the fact he was his godson) Snape was going to rip him limb from limb.
He grabbed all his books in a blind rush, and sped out of the common room as gracefully as he could. His hair, still forgotten, flew around his face in disarray. A fourth year darted around the corner, hall pass in hand.
He stared at Malfoy with large eyes, and those eyes drifted from his hair to his face…and back again.
"What are you looking at?" Malfoy snapped, trying to save his dignity. The fourth year had scampered away in fright, though he still looked on the brink of a smirk.
After making sure no one else was in the hall, Malfoy set off once again on a run to the Potions room. Once there, he ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to make it look neat. He gave up after a few seconds with a scowl, before opening the doors. Time to show everyone what Malfoys were about.
All heads swiveled towards the door to the Potions room, as they opened for the second time.
In strode a haughty looking Draco Malfoy, his hair perfectly in place, a snirk upon his face. "Sorry I'm late, Professor," he said, with an air of disinterest. "I wasn't feeling very well this morning."
Harry looked towards Snape to see what he would say, though he had a sinking feeling what it was, considering the identical snirk he had upon his face.
"Mr. Malfoy." Snape said, "Please sit in your seat. Try not to be late again." At this, he walked back to the front of the classroom.
There were mutters of outrage around the class at the fact that, once again, Malfoy had evaded the wraith of Snape.
Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, his face twisted in anger. "This is so unfair!" He hissed as he furiously chopped up scurvy leaves for the potion, "I was only five minutes late, and I got docked one hundred and twenty points! Malfoys half an hour late and-"
He stopped when he realized that Malfoy was standing right next to his desk, and a little too close for his comfort. Malfoy bent down, sneering at him.
"Might want to watch what you say, Potter," He spat out the last word with venom, "don't want to lose any more points for your house, do you? I saw your cup on my way here. Those rubies are dwindling to nothing. Guess we'll know who will be winning the House Cup this year won't we."
He stood back up, turning perfectly on spot, walking over to his table.
"Oi! Bloody git! I'm gonna get that prat and beat his face in!" Ron muttered, his face red as he made to stand up. He only stopped when Harry gripped his arm, his face blank.
"Don't, Ron," he whispered, "Don't do anything that will give Snape another reason to dock us points."
Ron sat back down, but looked at him in worry. He exchanged a glance with Hermione, and the latter spoke in a timid voice.
"Are you ok, Harry? You look a little pale."
Harry took in a deep breath. He felt fine. He was just in a slight daze…Fuck, Malfoy had smelled amazing. A warm, vanilla scent that just wrapped you up-
"Harry? Oi! Harry!"
Harry shook himself out of his thoughts, looking into Ron's worried eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Justa bit tired." He replied, giving his friends a weak smile. It seemed to work, for Ron and Hermione started back to the potion. He passed them the leaves, and watched with only faint interest as the potion bubbled and turned a sweet light blue. Instead, he sneaked a glance over at where Malfoy sat next to Pansy.
I just want to see what other shit he's up to, he thought. His gaze traveled to those piercing grey eyes that were looking determinedly at the potion in front of them. Then his gaze traveled to those plump, pink lips, just begging to be snogged-
Malfoy suddenly looked right at him, and right into his eyes. Those silver eyes narrowed at him, almost accusingly.
Oh, bloody hell. Harry gulped, tearing his gaze away. He gave yet another sigh of relief when he realized class was over. He looked over at his friends who were bottling up the days potion, and a sense of guilt washed over him. He hadn't helped at all.
Hermione looked over at him, as if sensing his discomfort. Go, she mouthed, waving at him.
Harry shot her a grateful smile, walking briskly out of the room. He knew that he would probably get a mouthful later, but he was fine for the moment. Though he did not realize it at the moment, one certain Slytherin had followed him out of the Potions room, and down the hall that led him outside.
Harry took in a breath of fresh air as he arrived outside. He strode down the path to Hagrid's hut, feeling completely relaxed. He knew he still had a few minutes before his next class, and he needed a place to think quietly.
He stopped halfway down the path, and fell down back on the grass. He put his hands behind his head, content to just lay there and look up at the clouds.
A few feet behind Harry, Malfoy stood with an incredulous look upon his face. Did Potter really just come out here to take a nap? Typical, Malfoy snorted. He was probably going to end up missing his next class. Not that he cared.
Before he knew what was happening, Malfoy found his legs moving forward towards Harry, most definitely without his consent. The next thing he knew, he was standing right next to Potter's face. There was an awkward silence between them, before Harry suddenly jumped up, running his hands through his hair.
Fuck, Harry thought. Why did Malfoy always have to ruin everything? He began to run his hands through his hair again, when a firm grip suddenly caught his wrist. He looked up in surprise, looking into silver eyes that looked amused. What surprised Harry the most was that there was no malice in this look, although some annoyance.
"Will you stop doing that, Potter?" Malfoy snapped, "Your hair is already enough of a mess."
Harry flushed, though he didn't make any comment. He lowered his hand, very aware of the fact that Malfoy had yet to remove his hand around from his wrist. He coughed, as if hoping that would help Malfoy snap out of whatever daze he was in.
It worked. Malfoy, busy staring at those vivid green eyes, suddenly dropped Harry's arm as if it was poisoned. He crossed his arms, huffing in annoyance. And in discomfort. "Honestly, I don't know why I'm even bothering." He said, "But are you intent on failing all your classes? You've been late to Potions, and you're going to be late to Divinat-"He stopped. He was not supposed to know that. The only reason he did know what because, well, he had followed him once but-
Harry glanced at him suspiciously from under his bangs. "How did you know I have Divination next, Malfoy?" He asked, fists clenching.
Said boy gulped, and then inspiration struck. "I saw the Weasel and that stupid Mudblood on their way there a few days ago, talking about how you had been acting oddly," he replied, daring Harry to…to do what he didn't know.
Harry's knuckles were now going white from how hard he was clenching his fists.
"Don't. Call. Them. That." He said, his voice quiet but menacing.
"What? Weasly is a Weasel. Bloody bloody traitor. And that idiotic Granger who thinks she knows everything is a fucking mudblood! It's the truth. They're both unworthy of-"
Unworthy of what he never did get to explain, before Harry punched him in the face. It wasn't hard enough to break anything, but it was hard enough to throw him onto the ground, leaving him dazed.
Before he could haul himself back to his feet, Harry was in his face, eyes ablaze. Damn, Harry is definitely sexy when he's mad. Draco thought. Wait- did I just call him Harry? He's Potter! Insufferable git.
"How dare you, Malfoy." Harry spat out, his words coming out slow and full of anger. "What gives you the right to pick on my friends like that? What have they ever done to you? Huh?"
Harry got back up, shouting at Malfoy now. "You always act like you're above everyone else, when you're not! You're fathers a bloody Death Eater, and you probably are a bloody Death Eater and-and your mom is Voldemort's slut-" Harry cut off, his face a mask of guilt when he saw Malfoy get up, looking…hurt.
"I'm…I'm sorry, Malfoy." He attempted to apologize, though he didn't know why. Maybe it was because of the fact Malfoy looked stricken, and hurt. And because of the fact that for once in his life, Malfoy looked human.
"Don't you dare talk about my mother that way, Potter," his voice calm and collected. Harry could tell it was just a mask by the emotions swimming in his eyes. "You don't know anything about me. Or about my family. So don't talk about me like you do know me." He hissed.
He suddenly closed the distance between them, standing in front of Harry so they were chest to chest. For one crazy second, Harry thought he was going to kiss him, until he received a blow into the stomach that had him winded. Then another blow struck into his head, and he could feel his glasses break as he sprawled onto the ground.
He scrambled back onto his feet, anger running through him again. But before he could retaliate, a sudden thud in the forest behind them grabbed his attention. Harry could tell Malfoy had heard it too by the uncertain look on his face.
Harry gingerly picked up his glasses, waving his wand at them. "Episkey," he muttered. He watched as his glasses fixed himself. Satisfied, he put them back on, turning back to face Malfoy, who had an odd expression his face.
"I didn't know you could use that spell to fix...inanimate objects," was all he said.
"Yeah." Harry replied, still feeling angry. He started towards Malfoy, but then the latter suddenly paled. He held up his hand at Harry, telling him to be quiet.
Harry was puzzled at first, until he heard voices coming out from the forest. They were voices that he did not know, and they had quite an odd accent. He held out his wand in front of him cautiously, watching Malfoy do the same thing beside him. He crept forward, seeing silhouettes slowly appear.
And then, the bodies of two men appeared. They looked like they were in their twenties or thirties maybe, and were wearing old-fashioned clothing. It was like the kind of clothing that Harry saw in old muggle movies about…old times.
When the two men saw him and Draco, they stopped abruptly.
"Stop right there."
After what had felt like hours, Merlin and Arthur came to a stop, both falling to the ground with a loud thud.
Merlin groaned, rubbing his back where he had fallen. He reached for the chain around his neck, before realizing that it had disappeared. He looked over towards where Arthur lay.
"Arthur," he whispered, "Arthur! Are you alright?"
Arthur gave an even louder groan, straining to get up. "What the bloody hell was that?" He asked.
Merlin shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, Arthur. But I think it was….magic."
Arthur's eyes widened. "Well, then we must get back to Camelot and tell my father."
Merlin swallowed nervously, "The thing is Arthur, I don't think we're in Camelot anymore. Or anyplace near Camelot. "
"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. Where else could we be? We're still in the fore-" Arthur stopped speaking as he looked around himself. He shivered in spite of himself. This was definitely not the forest they had been in. Of course, the stubborn part of his brain rejected those thoughts, and replaced them with others. All they had to do was get out and find help, and they should be fine.
"Come on, Merlin." He said, walking forwards, "Let's get out of here."
Though he was still feeling suspicious of the area, Merlin nodded and followed Arthur.
After a few minutes, they finally arrived at the entrance to the forest. Thank goodness, Merlin thought, running past Arthur. He heard Arthur running up behind him, muttering about not taking off so quickly, when there could be danger lurking around any corner.
They finally came out into the open, and they both took identical breathes of relief. They examined the area around them, not quite sure where they were. They were in front of a castle, one very old and grand. It was one neither of the two had ever seen before. It rose out of the hills, sparkling in the sunlight.
Of course, they only had been able to admire it for a few seconds when Arthur realized that there were two people standing in front of them. Both whom were holding sticks. He stepped forward, preparing to ask for assistance, when the blonde pointed his stick directly at him.
"Stop right there," he said, his voice shaky but determined.
Arthur scoffed. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" He asked.
The second person, the black-haired one, spoke up. "Well, who are you?" He asked.
"Who are you?" Arthur retaliated.
The black-haired gave him a look of surprise. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."