A Series of Connecting the Dots

Author's Note: My turn again! Many thanks to Laurel and her unbiased beta work on this chapter. I know it's been hard not to steer things for her own benefit. lol.

Chapter 11 For Good or Ill

My mind was turning traitor on me. All day long it filled me full of schemes and plots to further attain my prize, while at night it filled my head with images of Potter sprawled naked and wanting on my bed. It scared me sometimes to think that I never fantasized about anyone else these days, every single night it was Harry’s piercing green eyes and full pouting lips that caused my arousal to escalate. I was wanking more now than when I had first discovered the pleasure, which was far too much for my own good; I was going to end up with an atrophied muscle if I wasn’t more careful. It was beginning to wear on my nerves that I no longer had control of my renegade thoughts, and worse, I seemed to blurt more honesty at Harry than I had ever intended because of my growing lust for the boy.

As I lay in my bed staring blankly at the curtained ceiling above me, I began to wonder if it was only lust fueling my attentions toward the Gryffindor after all. No vulgar fantasies had come to me the night before, yet a flooding warmth still coated my body as I stirred awake, the warmth just hadn’t all pooled in my groin as it usually did. There was no mutual masturbation, no deep-throating oral sex, not even the tantalizing use of leather straps or whips; no, last night’s dream had been something altogether different. Harry was still the star of the show of course, but instead of the normally nude Harry –or my favorite, Harry wearing only his Gryffindor tie- I got a fully-dressed-and-just-plain-happy-to-see-me Harry. I was at the Manor, apparently returning from a long day at work and as soon as I opened the door Harry pulled me into a loving embrace, smothering my face with tiny, adorable kisses until I laughed and pulled him closer to me.

It had felt so blissfully perfect to hold onto Harry that way, as if he naturally fit in my arms. The scant snogging session was the extent of the physical manifestations between us however, because we were soon interrupted by a pair of stampeding children. One boy, with pale shaggy curls and crystalline green eyes and a little girl with pin-straight black hair and my own cold gray orbs, except they looked much warmer set in that tiny girlish face.

They leapt upon me as Harry had, knocking the other man out of the way and I pulled them up, resting a child on each hip. “How are my little munchkins today?” I asked, placing a kiss on each of their noses. “Did you behave for Daddy?”

The toddlers nodded, smiling innocently, which even in the dream I didn’t believe for a second. “They were angels,” Harry assured me from over the little girl’s head before leaning in and stealing another kiss from me. The dream ended there, with me holding my children –mine and Harry’s children- and a feeling of absolute contentedness washing over me. It was as if all the evil in the world had melted away leaving only Harry and I as a happy little family.

The dream had me feeling frayed, like the edge of my favorite sweater had come undone and Harry was smirking as he slowly unraveled it leaving me naked and vulnerable beneath its warm, comforting hiding place. All of my plans for the future were woven into that sweater and it was being stripped from me a thread at a time –and it was all Harry’s fault.

Damn him for being charming and funny and stubborn and brave and beautiful. Damn him for being everything a man could want in a partner, in a friend, in a lover. Damn him for turning the tables and outsmarting me. I bet even now he was laughing his arse off at the ridiculous Slytherin prat who was chasing after him.

With a shudder I pulled myself completely out of bed and tried to shake away the last remnants of my Harry-Home-Maker dream. I knew that Harry wanted a proper family and a calm quiet picket-fence life, but did I? I hadn’t thought so, but I had never felt as at home as I had being part of Harry’s life, Harry’s family -my family.

“It was only a dream,” I told myself as I walked to the shower, but I couldn’t shake the image of Harry surrounded by our children painted in my mind and the feeling of completeness it left in me. “It was only a dream.” I probably repeated the mantra no less than a hundred times before I shut the water off, and by the time I had finished toweling dry I had convinced myself that I was merely deluding myself with thoughts of a future that held Potter within it. My life’s goal was already inked into my forearm and life as a Death Eater didn’t lead to a warm home and happy children –I should know.

-----------------------------------------------

When I returned from my scalding shower I noticed a scroll lying on my bed. It was tied with a green ribbon and as soon as I picked it up I felt the recognition magic drift over me like a cool breeze. It was from Snape, and it merely told me I had an urgent message from my Father waiting in the usual place.

Apparently my snide remark to Professor Snape when he hand delivered my last message went straight to the man’s cool black heart because this time the cantankerous Head of House made me trek all the way up to our secret hiding place below the Owlery for it. It was already panning out to be a beautiful Saturday –a Hogsmeade weekend at that- and I wanted to get the retrieval of my father’s note over with so I could try and meet up with Harry before everyone left. I thought perhaps that he might be willing to spend the afternoon with me under the careful ruse of ‘just friends’. He’d obviously been quite livid with Corner after I showed him that memory, but I hadn’t heard a word from him since so I had no idea if the boys broke up or not, as I was hoping they would.

I was still reeling from the dream, but I thought that spending the day with Harry might help ground me, help me make sense of things. Maybe I could even find some perfect reason to continue with my original plans, some terrible character flaw in the boy that might make turning Harry over to Voldemort seem like a deserving punishment once more. Perhaps Harry secretly slaughtered small fuzzy animals in his spare time…

Unfortunately, I found it quite difficult to imagine any other reason being enough to feel Potter should still be sacrificed for my own life’s betterment, especially when I was no longer certain that the Dark Mark on my arm should be the direction my life followed.

Again I pushed the confusing thoughts from the forefront of my mind and sighed as I felt the warm air through the windowless openings of the Owlery drift down to feather across my face. The warmth left me the moment I stepped into the makeshift broom closet, however, and I hastened to the back of the room, ignoring the various cleaning implements and the repelling charms until my eyes laid on the familiar tapestry once more.

“Stinson,” I called and the little dwarf popped out of his usual hiding place behind the tree with a yawn.

“Aye, ‘tis me. Come to fetch the bounty that lies within me?” the surly dwarf asked.

I shuddered at the image those words brought to mind and vowed to try and think less about Harry’s perfect body when I came to visit my secret room. “Yes. Snape said he left me a letter.”

“What he left is no business of mine. Are you ready for your questions?” the dwarf retorted sharply, to which I nodded. “Alright then, state your full name.”

“Draco Abraxas Malfoy,” I recited easily.

“Excellent. What house do you honor and cherish above all?” he asked.

“Slytherin,” I answered dully, waving for him to get on with it.

“And now for the final question, what is most precious to you?” he asked cryptically.

“Myself,” I replied quickly, recalling my answer from last time, but this time the small tanned dwarf studied me closely.

“Are you sure that be your final answer?” he asked, his eyes squinting slightly. “It feels… not false, but not entirely true either.”

“Would you just open up and give me my letter,” I demanded, utterly through with his tripe. I wouldn’t allow myself to stop and wonder what the little dwarf was hinting at, and I refused to acknowledge the angry butterflies that erupted in my gut when I silently cursed the dream once more. Seeing Harry in that light had rattled me, but it was nothing a misplaced tantrum couldn’t cure.

“Fine,” the dwarf huffed, bristling slightly. “You’re no fun,” he griped as the tapestry folded away to reveal the rolled up parchment. I quickly snatched it up and left the dank little room, eager to feel the sun on my face, and hopefully have Potter by my side on the walk to Hogsmeade.

I was reaching for the seal of the note, ready to read my Father’s urgent words, when I heard a noise from further down the stairs and quickly pocketed the scroll. I turned to make sure there was no evidence that I had just been in that little janitorial closet and when I turned back around I was met with the dark brooding eyes of my housemate, Blaise.

“There you are,” he huffed, seemingly annoyed.

“Master of stating the obvious as always,” I quipped before quickly heading downstairs, trying to ignore the fact that Blaise was easily keeping pace behind me.

“You weren’t at breakfast and we were wondering if you had left for Hogsmeade without us,” he continued, heedless to the fact that I was attempting to lose him. I didn’t have to wonder at what he meant when he said ‘us’ because he and Pansy were virtually joined at the hip these days, though that didn’t seem to keep either of them from trying to thrust their hips in my direction.

“No, I haven’t left… yet,” I replied. “Have you seen Potter?” I inquired, thinking that the gossiping boy might be the fastest way to find him.

“He’s gone already,” Blaise replied. “He was in the center of a flock of Ravenclaws.”

“What?” I asked incredulously.

Blaise furrowed his brow and eyed me curiously. “Why do you care anyhow?”

“You know I’m trying to bed the boy,” I replied quickly, regaining some of my normal composure and trying to eliminate the foul taste my own words left in my mouth.

“Why? Corner’s probably beat you to it, anyhow,” Blaise replied with a smirk.

“What the hell would you know?” I barked, before storming out of the castle and onto the gravel path that lead to Hogsmeade. I made the long trek to the village alone, listening closely to my own rough footsteps so that I couldn’t hear myself think. If I bothered to hear them I knew my thoughts would be whispering about Harry. Things like ‘he’s betrayed you with Corner already’, ‘Harry would never sleep with a Death Eater anyway’, and ‘Harry could never love you’ all accosted my brain, but I refused to heed the words.

What did it matter anyway? All I had to do was get Potter alone and use the heirloom ring to transport the boy to the Manor. My Father could take it from there. Then Corner would lose too –but then so would Harry. A guttural scream erupted suddenly and without warning, and it took me a moment to realize the sound had been pulled from my own throat. Why was everything so confusing? Why did I have to feel anything remotely honest for the Gryffindor git? Why did he continue to refuse me?

I was so busy focusing on the sound of my own footfalls that I didn’t notice the other pairs that had joined me until a slender arm curled through my own. I looked over to see Pansy giving me a wide grin and attempting to lean her head against my arm until I yanked it away. Blaise was behind her looking triumphant and it appeared I wouldn’t be permitted to shake either of them for the day. I used to relish in my popularity, taking great joy in the droves of Slytherins that would answer to my beck and call, but now I only wished for one person at my side and I wanted that person to be a shaggy-haired Gryffindor.

I didn’t stay in Hogsmeade very long that day. In fact I bought a bag of sweets from Honeydukes –licorice wands and pumpkin pasties, my favorite- where we ran into Theo and then we all decided to go to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer.

Hearing about Harry being whisked away by Corner and his friends and actually seeing it with my own eyes were two very different things. As soon as I entered the pub I could feel him there and when I sought him out I found Blaise’s assessment to be quite accurate. Harry was laughing, surrounded by four other boys, all of which were devoting their complete attention to the Gryffindor as if they were going to take the boy into the alley for a gang bang after they finished their butterbeers.

It wasn’t the way the other boys acted with Harry that truly irritated me though; it was the way Harry reacted to their attention. It was as if the incident with the Weasley bitch and the other Gryffindors had never happened. I examined the smile on his face as he chatted with the other Ravenclaws, none of them even important enough for me to recall their names, while Corner sat close, his arm draped over Harry’s shoulders –that smile made me falter.

The lion was taking refuge amongst the birds, a group that could never hope to know him the way I did, but he looked content nonetheless. I realized with a heavy heart that Harry was no longer isolated as he once was, which left me with a much smaller opening into his life. Although a serpent was skilled at fitting into tight spaces, but if Harry found he no longer needed my attentions then I would find myself at a loss.

As I looked across the room to see Harry’s gaze flick up to mine I was reminded of those same eyes set within a small pale face beneath a mop of blonde hair. I banished the image from my mind, denying any of the rising feelings of regret that threatened to choke me and I ordered my own drink to go, wishing they would sell students something potent. I left the pub almost as quickly as I had entered. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I couldn’t stand to see Harry being enveloped in this other relationship, I couldn’t watch as the boy fell more and more in love with someone else.

-------------------------------------------------

The weekend slid by so slowly that I was actually thankful when Monday’s Potions class began. I excelled in the course, but at this point I would take Care of Magical Creatures over having to sit and wonder what squishy things Harry and Corner had gotten up to over the weekend. At least in Potions, Corner couldn’t fawn all over Harry right in front of me –I nearly gagged just thinking about it.

I sat with Blaise, much to the boy’s surprise and unfortunate delight; apparently he thought that my sitting in class with him took him one step closer to getting me to fuck him. I hadn’t the heart to inform him how badly he was mistaken, plus I didn’t need him booting me away from his table so that I would have to sit with Harry again. I still couldn’t look at him, still couldn’t think about him without seeing another boy on his arm. The idea that I had gotten so wrapped up in Harry’s charismatic presence had me scared witless.

What would I do when school let out for the holidays? How would I answer my father when he asked what I had achieved that year so far? ‘Well Father, I got perfect marks in all my classes, I made Blaise Zabini my willing slave and I fell in love with Harry Potter.’ I shuddered to think about the punishment I would receive for bringing such shame upon him. Father would probably lock me in the dungeon and only visit me so that he could make himself feel better by hexing my arse off.

The distaste of that scenario was probably clearly written on my face when Potter strolled in. Blaise was yammering away in my ear but I wasn’t listening; I was instead focused on the momentary panic I saw in Harry’s brightly shining eyes when he realized he wouldn’t be sitting with me. To my surprise, Longbottom offered him a seat and Harry quickly accepted.

More friends for Harry equaled even less room for me in his life.

Ignoring Blaise became even more of a chore once the lesson began and it was simply miraculous that we produced a flawless potion considering how distracting his loose mouth had been all period. I was just thinking how happy I would be, finally finished with my potion and rid of the confines of the classroom, when I heard Snape’s dulcet tones speaking from the direction of Harry’s seat and suddenly the pit in my stomach grew. I had nearly forgotten the favor I had asked of my Godfather, and now more than anything I wanted him to stop talking and forget I had ever said anything. I didn’t want to be around Potter now; I didn’t want the feelings I had for him to increase, or worse, manifest into something more substantial. It was bad enough I was crushing hard on the boy; I didn’t want it to progress even further.

My dream came once more unbidden to my mind, the urgent way Harry pulled me into his arms as he greeted me at the door, the yearning I could feel from him even as I held his children –our children. I wanted to scream aloud; shouldn’t I get to control at least one thing in my life? My mind was continuing to betray me by thinking about Harry without my permission. My life was about duty, not love.

I shook my head sharply at Snape, but he didn’t notice and proceeded to assess Potter’s failed potion assignment. “Malfoy,” Snape called out before I could hide.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, not being idiot enough to deny him now.

“Potter is going to require remedial Potions lessons and I’m far too busy to give them to him myself, you are my top student so you will be tutoring him at least three times a week until exams,” he explained and I tried to tell him with my eyes that this was no longer what I wanted. Unfortunately, my Godfather ignored my silent pleas and turned back to face Potter, who was fighting the arrangement as well. Both relief that Harry might change the Potion Master’s mind and hurt that Harry was equally adamant about not spending time with me flooded my consciousness before I watched Harry finally concede to Snape’s plan of having me tutor him privately.

Oh, what I would have given to have a time turner so that I could go back and stop myself from asking Snape for that favor –or perhaps just to murder Corner before he was even able to set foot on Hogwarts grounds. Blaise looked over at me rather possessively, but I simply shrugged. When it was time to go, I fell into step behind Harry, unsure of what to even say to him. “Looks like we’ll be seeing more of each other than we thought,” I mentioned dully, wishing the statement weren’t true.

“Looks like,” he replied, and though I tried not to look at him, the blush creeping up his face was rather evident and difficult to look away from.

“Shall we meet in the library tonight?” I asked, rejuvenated slightly by his reaction to my simply standing beside him.

“Okay,” he replied, smiling softly, though when I heard the all too familiar voice of Harry’s boyfriend from behind me I wondered if the smile was for me at all.

“Hey, Baby!” Corner called, having apparently stalked Harry down to the Dungeons to meet him after class; he couldn’t possibly leave him alone with me for even five minutes, could he?

“Oh, Mike, hi,” Harry replied at once, his eyes flicking from me to his now hovering boyfriend. “What are you doing down here?”

Corner’s initial response was just to shove his tongue down Harry’s throat, a sight I couldn’t bear to witness any further so I left, although I didn’t go far. I lingered just around the corner out of sight and listened to their brief conversation. I couldn’t pass up the chance to hear how Harry behaved while alone with Corner. In public they seemed attached but still aloof, one normally had to pay close attention to know they were a couple –aside from a couple ghastly public displays of affection. I had often wondered how they were in private –if Harry was a closet romantic or if his only passionate outbursts were with me.

“I have some good news,” Corner told Harry. “I spoke to the boys and they’re planning a nice, long outing next weekend.” My stomach dropped at the words and I felt my skin run icy cold.

“Oh really?” Harry replied, sounding slightly distracted.

“Uh huh, so my dorm room will be completely empty all day Saturday,” Corner explained. “We’ll have plenty of privacy and a nice comfortable bed.”

I wanted to burst around the corner and throttle the meddlesome Ravenclaw. This weekend the boy was plotting to take Harry’s virginity –take it from me! I shook my head and stalked off toward the Slytherin common room, chastising myself the entire way. Harry wasn’t mine, nor would he ever be at this rate, but I sometimes felt like he was and it made my skin crawl just thinking about Corner touching my Harry, kissing my Harry and doing Merlin only knew what else to my perfect Gryffindor.

They were probably back there working it all out, trying to figure out a way for Harry to get into the Ravenclaw dorms and what they would do once inside. I wagered Potter was probably thrilled, relishing in the idea that in five days time he would belong completely to Corner. Fucking happy little couple, I hated them both. Several of the decorative pillows and other left behind items in the common room felt the brunt of my anger as I vented it by casting Reducto randomly around the room as I thought of the two boys together. Here I was, falling for Harry like a twit while he was off plotting his first glorious fuck with Corner.

And now I had to go teach the boy how to properly brew a potion! I could kill myself.

-------------------------------------------------------

Unlike the weekend where I wanted the classes to begin again and time nearly stood still, my tutoring of Potter came upon me far too quickly for my liking. It felt like I was still watching them making eyes at one another during dinner before suddenly I was toting my textbook toward the library to meet up with Harry.

The Gryffindor was already in the library, which was otherwise virtually empty when I arrived; save for Granger who looked up from her table in the corner and watched me as I took a seat across from Harry. He’d been folding scraps of parchment into odd shapes that didn’t look like much at all, only looking up when I cleared my throat.

“Sorry for that Mike thing,” he muttered distractedly as his only greeting.

“What do you mean?” I asked, panic lacing my blood as I thought perhaps he knew I had eavesdropped on their sexy weekend plans.

“Him interrupting us in the corridor like that,” Harry replied, looking at me as if to gauge how upset I was over it.

“He’s your boyfriend, Potter. He’s allowed to talk to you whenever he wants,” I replied shortly, pulling my textbook open and flicking to page seventy-two.

“Potter,” he whispered under his breath, but I pretended not to notice and turned the book around to face him.

“Do you think you’d be free to study on Saturday?” I tested, waiting to hear his response. I knew what he was going to say, and I even knew how much it would hurt to hear it, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself; perhaps if I heard him admit it out loud I could hate him for it.

“Er… I’m busy Saturday,” he admitted. “How about Sunday?”

“I’m busy Sunday,” I muttered before going right into the lecture; I didn’t hate him, even as much as I wanted to. Instead it just killed a part of my heart, I nearly felt it wither and shrink inside of my chest. “We should probably start with the potion you and Longbottom bollixed up today,” I reasoned sharply. “The Blood-Replenishing potion is actually quite simple, but you have to pay attention. It’s very time sensitive and the smallest delay can make it go awry. On the plus side there is little one could do to make it explode, but as you saw today it’s fairly easy to fuck it up, leaving you with a mess and wasted ingredients.”

“You’re angry with me,” Harry said, not a question, a statement.

“I’m not angry with you, Potter,” I replied and pointed to the text I was about to go over urging him to follow along and forget whatever he was thinking. I wanted nothing more to do with the topic of his life or his relationship or ours for that matter –whatever that relationship even was.

“You’re back to calling me by my last name, you’ve barely looked at me since you got here, and you’re sniping at me,” Harry rebuked, looking both angry himself and confused by my own attitude. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself before continuing, but I didn’t have time because Harry pressed on. “What’s going on?”

“What do you want from me?” I demanded, finally snapping and drawing the attention of the few people in the library with us. “You’ve never used my given name. Never. And it’s not as though I want to be here with you when I know you’d rather be off snogging Corner. I’d rather just get this over with, that way I can move on and you can go be happy with your precious Ravenclaw.”

His face held such a mixture of shock and sadness that I only wanted to kiss it away, take it all back and just go on pretending –because that was what I’d been doing all weekend, ever since that blasted dream… maybe even longer than that. I’d been pretending that Harry meant nothing to me, that he was just a tool I could wield in order to secure my place beside the most powerful wizard aside from Merlin himself, but I knew now that whether or not Harry fulfilled his prophecy to take Voldemort down, the Gryffindor was still the better wizard, still the better man.

I hadn’t meant to lose my temper, quite the opposite. I had wanted to be cool and approachable in case Harry wanted to talk, but I suddenly realized I couldn’t be the sweet friend who was always there for him while he lived in happy coupledom with someone else. I didn’t even want to pretend to play that part anymore. I wanted Harry, and not for sex, not to betray him to Voldemort, not to increase my power or popularity. I wanted him to love me, to want me and to be with me always. I wanted my dream to come true.

Growling to myself –the only way I could keep from screaming- I waited for my blood to stop boiling and my mind to calm down. I felt like a silly Hufflepuff girl thinking lovey-dovey thoughts about Harry Potter of all people. How would that even work? I could blow him a kiss as he went off to be killed by Voldemort, or if Harry actually won, he could blow me a kiss as they shipped my arse off to Azkaban?

“Malfoy, I-“ he began, grabbing the hand that was still miraculously pointing out the potion in my textbook. He didn’t get any further than that though because energy sparked between us so powerful it nearly sent me sprawling out of my chair. He must have felt it too, because his eyes were wide with astonishment. How could he continue to ignore the fact that we seemed so compatible? I wanted Harry so badly, wanted him as my own, and he wanted… Corner? It just didn’t make sense to me.

We both pulled away at the same time only to look awkwardly at one another for another moment. “I like you, Harry,” I admitted at last, my voice a suitable library whisper. “I like you more than I’m willing to admit and far more that I should. I’m just having a hard time being your friend when I know you don’t feel the same about me.” He seemed speechless, unable to move his tongue to form the words ‘you’re right’ and apparently unable to even nod in reply. I sighed and shook my head. “Just forget it, okay?” I told him at last resigned to my fate. “Let’s just get through this and then we can go back to pretending the other one doesn’t exist. Deal?”

His eyes narrowed at once. “No deal,” he replied. “I have no friends, Malfoy. None, and now you tell me that you would rather ignore me than just talk to me.”

“You seemed to have plenty of friends on Saturday. Look, Corner doesn’t want you talking to me, and it’s clear that it’s his opinion you value most, and I get that, I do. If you were my boyfriend I’d want you all to myself as well,” I grumbled truthfully. I probably wouldn’t let him leave my sight or my bed if Harry was mine.

“They aren’t my friends, they were probably just being civil because Mike asked them to. Mike doesn’t get to decide who I can and can’t be friends with,” Harry replied bitterly.

“Have you told him that?” I asked, snappier than I had intended, but I was still upset.

“Sort of,” he admitted with a slight blush to his cheeks. “I did tell him I wouldn’t see you outside of class, but this counts as class so why not make the most of it?” he asked hopefully. I’m sure my sudden mood swing had been the last thing he’d expected out of our private lessons, but I couldn’t keep up the charade any longer.

“Because it’s a lie,” I told him quietly, realizing it was truer than my simple words could convey. “The minute we leave this library we cease being friends.”

Harry sighed and sank lower into his chair. “I don’t know what you want me to do,” he huffed. “Mike’s my boyfriend, he deserves input on who I spend all my time with, even if he doesn’t get to make the final decision, and you didn’t help matters by instigating his anger in the first place.”

“I don’t want you to do anything, Potter. You’ve made your choice, that’s all I ever wanted you to do. Now you just have to live with it,” I replied, and pointed more firmly at the text written neatly on the page of my Potions book. “What three ingredients are the catalysts for the Blood-Replenishing potion?”

Harry looked at me unblinkingly for a moment, so many emotions running through those expressive eyes that I couldn’t begin to understand them all, before he began reciting off the required answer of ‘ginger, bicorn and puffer fish eyes’.

“Correct,” I replied and moved on quickly. The rest of the lesson continued in the same monotone manner, I just wanted to shove all my emotions deep down inside and pretend they didn’t exist at all. I knew the moment we finished the lesson I could go back to the silent respite of my dorm, and that was the only thing spurning me onward.

When I completed the chapter I got up to leave and Harry just looked up at me, acting as though he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the words, and soon enough he didn’t get the chance.

“You lied to me!” shouted a very angry looking Corner from a few paces away. His voice cut through the heavy silence in the mostly empty library. I don’t know how long he’d been there, but he’d obviously seen nothing, since there was nothing to see, certainly nothing to get angry about.

“I didn’t lie. I told you I was coming here to study, and I am,” Harry retorted sharply, though he seemed a bit guilty. Harry closed the gap between them so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice and have the even the few students left in the room hear their argument. I, on the other hand, took Corner’s outburst and sudden intrusion as a blessing. I just wanted to leave, hide myself away, and this distraction would allow me to do just that.

“You failed to mention you were studying with Malfoy,” the Ravenclaw spat, his face turning a shade of red I’d only seen on a Weasley.

“He’s tutoring me for Potions,” Harry explained, trying to be reasonable.

“Yeah, I’ll bet he is,” Mike scoffed, moving to stand between Harry and I, and blocking my exit. “Is he tutoring you for our date this Saturday as well?”

“Mike!” Harry hissed scandalously, looking around to see who else had heard, even though anyone who might have would have had to be privy to an earlier conversation in order to even know what Corner meant by the rude remark. I did though, and I was more than a little disgusted at the Ravenclaw’s lack of concern for Harry’s feelings.

It wasn’t my place though, Harry had made that much clear at least. This was his battle, not mine. “I’ll leave you two alone,” I muttered, maneuvering around the arguing pair so that I could leave the library at last. It wasn’t lost on me that Granger’s chocolate brown eyes followed me out the same way they had followed me in, only this time a heavy sense of confusion was glimmering in those scrutinizing orbs.

I made my way back to my room and quickly pulled the curtains shut around my bed, happy to be away from prying eyes –emerald green or otherwise. It wasn’t until I slipped my robe off and tossed it into the corner that I noticed the scroll I had completely forgotten about from Saturday. It had fallen out onto my bedspread and just sat there looking ominous. I didn’t know how a scrap of paper could look so suddenly evil, but something about the yellowed parchment made me wary. I reluctantly picked it up and pulled it open, my eyes widening at the impact of the short note on the page.

‘The Dark Lord will be calling on you soon. Be prepared’

No signature, no time frame, just a foreboding caution to ‘be prepared’. What did that even mean? How was I to prepare? What was I preparing for other than to risk life and limb to bow at Voldemort’s feet? How long did I have?

I wasn’t able to scribble down any of these responding questions however, because almost as soon as I finished reading it, the scroll burst into flame and was reduced to ash right before my very eyes. I sighed and sank more deeply into my mattress, wanting it to envelope me and pull me into slumber’s pitch-black embrace –anything to escape what my life had recently become.

How had everything changed in just over a month? How had my life gone from planned to haphazardly thrust into the shaking palms of a Gryffindor? I knew what that letter would bring upon my head –death. Somehow Voldemort must have heard tales of my plan to woo Potter into his midst and he was calling on me to make his own demands. I would be forced to either turn Harry over or die an excruciating death –the kind reserved especially for traitors.

The only question left was which option would I choose now that I knew I loved the Gryffindor prat beyond repair.

Author's Note: Bum Bum Bum! Does Voldemort know of Draco's previous intentions? What will Draco do? Ah, the drama and agony!