Elements of Surprise
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,130
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,130
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
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.
Food, Friends, & Flashbacks
Chapter 1:
Food, Friends, & Flashbacks
16 years later...
Three sixteen year old wizards sat in the Great Hall, eating their lunch while conversing and laughing with each other. The black-haired boy with emerald green eyes, however, could not feel the happiness coming his friends. He looked across the table from him and saw his two friends.
His brown, bushy-haired friend Hermione Granger was constantly nagging both Harry and Ron about their studying habits, because “Newts are only one year, nine months, twelve days, and thirty-three minutes away!” Even though Harry had gotten used to it, he didn’t know how much longer he could keep from shouting at her because she was being too pushy. He was a sixteen-year old boy that had had a crap first eleven years living with his muggle aunt, huge uncle, and blubbery cousin, and then every year after finding out that he was a wizard somehow having to fight off Voldemort’s advances to become stronger. He had not always been entirely successful. Last year, and his fourth year, had resulted in the deaths of two innocent lives. Both Sirius and Cedric had been killed because of Voldemort and his followers. Harry still became very angry every time he thought about Bellatrix Lestranges’ sickiningly-sweet voice, mocking his Godfather and then Sirius falling through the veil.
“Harry!!!” Harry’s morbid and angry thoughts were interrupted by his best friend Ron Weasley.
“Harry, where were you just now?” Ron smiled, “You seemed like you were a million miles away! Hermione and I have been calling your name for ages!”
“Sorry guys.” Harry gave a convincing smile to his friends. “I was just thinking about what I could write about in my essay for Potions.” Harry easily lied.
Hermione looked up from her plate. “Ron! Why can’t you be more like Harry? While you’re laughing about what it would be like if Professor Snape showed up to Potions in a pink, frilly tutu, Harry was thinking through the ingredients needed to make the invisibility potion!”
Ron glanced over at Harry, giving him a see-you-got-her-started-now-look! “Mione, can we PLEASE just eat? We should not be thinking about schoolwork right now!”
As if to emphasize his point he shoved an entire treacle tart into his mouth.
“Yes, well, we do have class in about fifteen minutes anyway!”
While the trio was making its’ way to Transfiguration, one young wizard watched from behind a suit of armor. His gray eyes watched the black-haired wizard make his way with his friends. He knew that the boy would never feel the same about him, that he felt about the other boy.
Draco Malfoy was considered a dark wizard. Everyone believed that he was an evil, pompous, arrogant, stuck-up, prick. but these people only saw who he was on the outside. They had never been given a chance to catch a glimpse of Draco. Everyone knew who Draco Malfoy was, but very few knew who just Draco was. He had been taught at an early age that your true emotions and feelings could not be shown to the outside world. People would only persecute and belittle these feelings, they would never understand. Because of this, Draco had been forced to act mean and arrogant to all of the other students. Sure, after Harry Potter had denied his friendship in first year he had been upset and angry, but what had been the deciding factor in how he would act towards Harry and the rest of the school body was what had been taught by his father the week after his hand had been denied.
*flashback*
An eleven-year old Draco sat in the Headmaster’s office waiting for his father to show up. Earlier in the week he had been owled a letter by his father, stating that Lucius would be flooing to Hogwarts to pickup Draco for the weekend.
Apparently, his grandmother, Lucius’ mother, had died, so everyone in the family was supposed to go to France for the funeral. The letter, to many, would not have seemed strange, however, Draco knew that his grandmother had died when he was three.
Draco sat, dreading what was going to happen. He had racked his brain for anything that he had done wrong during his first week of school, and had come up with nothing. He sat in the chair, in the Headmaster’s office, as stiff as a three-week old corpse.
A couple seconds, and a whooshing sound later, and his father regally stepped out of the Headmaster’s fireplace, brushing nonexistent soot from his impeccable robes.
“Come along Draco, your mother wants to speak with you.” Lucius drawled, stepping up to Draco.
As he stepped out of the fireplace, draco knew that it was okay to drop the facade that he constantly kept up to make sure that no one could ever hurt him or his family because of his feelings.
His father walked up behind him and softly patted his shoulder.
“Draco, son you know that you can’t let what happened get to you. Your mother and I decided that you would probably need a little time away from school to get your emotions back in check!”
Lucius gracefully sat down in a soft, black chair next to the fireplace.
“I told you before you left for school that you can’t be nice to Harry Potter.” Lucius looked right into a twin set of steel-grey eyes. “You know that because of what I have to do for the Dark Lord you cannot be seen being chummy with him...” Lucius trailed off. “I know it’s going to be hard, but you must do as I say. Your mother and i want to keep you safe. You do want to keep your mother safe, don’t you?”
Draco looked up at his father with a startled look on his face, “of course Father, I would never want anything to happen to Mother, or you for that matter. You both and Sev are all that I have.”
Draco knew that because of his father’s job as a spy, their family, as well as Severus Snape, were in danger, but all Draco had wanted after seeing a young, scraggly, black-haired boy in Madame Malkin’s was to talk to that other young boy with the beautifully expressive green eyes, and have them come friends.
Draco hadn’t understood why he felt the need to be near the young green-eyed boy, but every fiber in his being told him to be nice to him, that something good would happen to him if he did, however, he had not expected his snide remarks about the semi-giant to make Harry angry. If Draco had been alone in a room with Harry he would have never needed to make that hurtful comment, but there had been many people in the robe-shop at the time, so he could not show weakness, or say what he truly wanted to say, ‘Hi! I’m Draco, can we be best friends?’ He didn’t think that would have gone over well.
Draco got up from the sofa he had been vacating near his father, and went up to his room. He knew he had to keep these feelings inside. There was only one way to do that, as well as keep Harry’s attention some of the time, he would have to be mean and bratty towards Harry, Weasley, and the Mudblood.
With his face set in a determined line, he lay down on his bed to decide the best way to keep those startling green eyes centered on him, but not make Voldemort, yes he said Voldemort, suspicious of his, or his family’s, loyalties.
*End Flashback*
The now sixteen-year old Draco pushed a piece of platinum-blond hair out of his eyes. For five years he had been harboring these feelings for Harry, but had never been able to act on them. He knew that because of his father, and Sev’s, work with the Dark Shadow, this longing for Harry would be able to be appeased very soon.
With a slight sigh, and a straightening of his shoulders, he strode towards the next class.
Food, Friends, & Flashbacks
16 years later...
Three sixteen year old wizards sat in the Great Hall, eating their lunch while conversing and laughing with each other. The black-haired boy with emerald green eyes, however, could not feel the happiness coming his friends. He looked across the table from him and saw his two friends.
His brown, bushy-haired friend Hermione Granger was constantly nagging both Harry and Ron about their studying habits, because “Newts are only one year, nine months, twelve days, and thirty-three minutes away!” Even though Harry had gotten used to it, he didn’t know how much longer he could keep from shouting at her because she was being too pushy. He was a sixteen-year old boy that had had a crap first eleven years living with his muggle aunt, huge uncle, and blubbery cousin, and then every year after finding out that he was a wizard somehow having to fight off Voldemort’s advances to become stronger. He had not always been entirely successful. Last year, and his fourth year, had resulted in the deaths of two innocent lives. Both Sirius and Cedric had been killed because of Voldemort and his followers. Harry still became very angry every time he thought about Bellatrix Lestranges’ sickiningly-sweet voice, mocking his Godfather and then Sirius falling through the veil.
“Harry!!!” Harry’s morbid and angry thoughts were interrupted by his best friend Ron Weasley.
“Harry, where were you just now?” Ron smiled, “You seemed like you were a million miles away! Hermione and I have been calling your name for ages!”
“Sorry guys.” Harry gave a convincing smile to his friends. “I was just thinking about what I could write about in my essay for Potions.” Harry easily lied.
Hermione looked up from her plate. “Ron! Why can’t you be more like Harry? While you’re laughing about what it would be like if Professor Snape showed up to Potions in a pink, frilly tutu, Harry was thinking through the ingredients needed to make the invisibility potion!”
Ron glanced over at Harry, giving him a see-you-got-her-started-now-look! “Mione, can we PLEASE just eat? We should not be thinking about schoolwork right now!”
As if to emphasize his point he shoved an entire treacle tart into his mouth.
“Yes, well, we do have class in about fifteen minutes anyway!”
While the trio was making its’ way to Transfiguration, one young wizard watched from behind a suit of armor. His gray eyes watched the black-haired wizard make his way with his friends. He knew that the boy would never feel the same about him, that he felt about the other boy.
Draco Malfoy was considered a dark wizard. Everyone believed that he was an evil, pompous, arrogant, stuck-up, prick. but these people only saw who he was on the outside. They had never been given a chance to catch a glimpse of Draco. Everyone knew who Draco Malfoy was, but very few knew who just Draco was. He had been taught at an early age that your true emotions and feelings could not be shown to the outside world. People would only persecute and belittle these feelings, they would never understand. Because of this, Draco had been forced to act mean and arrogant to all of the other students. Sure, after Harry Potter had denied his friendship in first year he had been upset and angry, but what had been the deciding factor in how he would act towards Harry and the rest of the school body was what had been taught by his father the week after his hand had been denied.
*flashback*
An eleven-year old Draco sat in the Headmaster’s office waiting for his father to show up. Earlier in the week he had been owled a letter by his father, stating that Lucius would be flooing to Hogwarts to pickup Draco for the weekend.
Apparently, his grandmother, Lucius’ mother, had died, so everyone in the family was supposed to go to France for the funeral. The letter, to many, would not have seemed strange, however, Draco knew that his grandmother had died when he was three.
Draco sat, dreading what was going to happen. He had racked his brain for anything that he had done wrong during his first week of school, and had come up with nothing. He sat in the chair, in the Headmaster’s office, as stiff as a three-week old corpse.
A couple seconds, and a whooshing sound later, and his father regally stepped out of the Headmaster’s fireplace, brushing nonexistent soot from his impeccable robes.
“Come along Draco, your mother wants to speak with you.” Lucius drawled, stepping up to Draco.
As he stepped out of the fireplace, draco knew that it was okay to drop the facade that he constantly kept up to make sure that no one could ever hurt him or his family because of his feelings.
His father walked up behind him and softly patted his shoulder.
“Draco, son you know that you can’t let what happened get to you. Your mother and I decided that you would probably need a little time away from school to get your emotions back in check!”
Lucius gracefully sat down in a soft, black chair next to the fireplace.
“I told you before you left for school that you can’t be nice to Harry Potter.” Lucius looked right into a twin set of steel-grey eyes. “You know that because of what I have to do for the Dark Lord you cannot be seen being chummy with him...” Lucius trailed off. “I know it’s going to be hard, but you must do as I say. Your mother and i want to keep you safe. You do want to keep your mother safe, don’t you?”
Draco looked up at his father with a startled look on his face, “of course Father, I would never want anything to happen to Mother, or you for that matter. You both and Sev are all that I have.”
Draco knew that because of his father’s job as a spy, their family, as well as Severus Snape, were in danger, but all Draco had wanted after seeing a young, scraggly, black-haired boy in Madame Malkin’s was to talk to that other young boy with the beautifully expressive green eyes, and have them come friends.
Draco hadn’t understood why he felt the need to be near the young green-eyed boy, but every fiber in his being told him to be nice to him, that something good would happen to him if he did, however, he had not expected his snide remarks about the semi-giant to make Harry angry. If Draco had been alone in a room with Harry he would have never needed to make that hurtful comment, but there had been many people in the robe-shop at the time, so he could not show weakness, or say what he truly wanted to say, ‘Hi! I’m Draco, can we be best friends?’ He didn’t think that would have gone over well.
Draco got up from the sofa he had been vacating near his father, and went up to his room. He knew he had to keep these feelings inside. There was only one way to do that, as well as keep Harry’s attention some of the time, he would have to be mean and bratty towards Harry, Weasley, and the Mudblood.
With his face set in a determined line, he lay down on his bed to decide the best way to keep those startling green eyes centered on him, but not make Voldemort, yes he said Voldemort, suspicious of his, or his family’s, loyalties.
*End Flashback*
The now sixteen-year old Draco pushed a piece of platinum-blond hair out of his eyes. For five years he had been harboring these feelings for Harry, but had never been able to act on them. He knew that because of his father, and Sev’s, work with the Dark Shadow, this longing for Harry would be able to be appeased very soon.
With a slight sigh, and a straightening of his shoulders, he strode towards the next class.