Verander

I fucking hate computers! After college I might check myself into one of those Internet addiction rehabs and get rid of this pain in my ass machine. Anyway, sorry for my long absence. My old laptop crashed, had to get a new one, which I love so far, let’s hope it stays that way.

As for where I got Notour and Praesul, I wish I could tell you it had some deep, profound meaning, but honestly, it doesn’t. I pretty much pulled it out of my ass. I started writing this during class and didn’t have access to the Internet so I racked my brain for those 5 years of Latin I had and could only remember a couple of words (sad, eh?) so I combined then and here ya go. I was going to change them to make sense when I got home but I couldn’t come up with any I liked better, go figure. So anyway, there ya go. Hope you like the chapter.

And before I get a bunch of Draco is too nice comments...never trust a Malfoy ;-)


~*~
“I’m not going!” I shouted to the scared looking man. No, man was the wrong word; boy suited the male standing in front of me much better. He couldn’t be a day over sixteen.

“Mr. Draco Malfoy requests the presence of your company in his chambers tonight at seven sharp.” The boy parroted again and I wondered if that was all he knew how to say, all he was allowed to say.

“Well I don’t accept.” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared, hoping my words held a sense of finality.

“Mr. Draco Malfoy requests-“

“Yes, I heard you the first five times, kid. But since it’s a request, I don’t have to accept. Tell Malfoy I said to bugger off and that I'd rather never eat again than have to endure a single meal in his company.” I waved my hand towards the door and the kid scurried off, leaving a sheet of paper and an envelope on my desk.

I groaned as I plopped down on my bed, feeling more helpless that I had in my entire life. Which was really saying something because I've been in some pretty hopeless situations before. But there had always been a light at the end of the tunnel. At the Dursley’s, I knew that someday I would turn eighteen. During the war, I knew that I would win or I would die, either way it would end. But now, now I couldn’t see a light.

I put my head in my hands and held back the tears of frustration threatening to spill over. I shouldn’t be this torn down so early in, damnit! But how much could one human being possibly take? And back to back no less. It seemed as soon as I got over one hurdle another came right after. Was I cursed to live like this? Afraid of happiness because I know that sooner or later it’ll be pulled out of my grasp? Cursed to have others tell me how to live my life? It just isn’t fair!

Sighing, I looked over to the piece of paper sitting on the desk. I had to force my legs to move as I slowly walked towards the desk. I stared at the paper first and instantly could tell it was directions, to Draco’s rooms I assumed. Cursing, I picked up the envelope.

It was lumpy and I could tell there was something inside, curious; I tore through the elegant script of my name on the front of the expensive stock envelope. There was a badge with a list of black numbers on the front with a piece of small paper clipped to it.

Potter, don’t kill the messenger. If I remember correctly you had quite the temper at Hogwarts. As you’ve already been informed, I would appreciate your company this evening at seven pm. A guard will be by at a quarter to seven, please be ready with this badge on. I don’t want to have to search for you.
-Draco Malfoy

I sneered; I was the one with the temper? What delusional world was the slimy git living in?

What to do now? I hated this, not knowing what to do.

“Hey Harry,” Neville said somberly, shutting the door as he walked into the room. He smiled slightly as he walked over to his bed; he sighed and laid down, putting his hands over his eyes.

“Bad day?” I asked knowingly. He nodded and I sighed too, realizing that I wasn’t the only one in this situation. There were a lot more men in the exact same position, it wasn’t right.

“What happened?” I asked gently, as I moved over to sit next to him, hoping to be somewhat of a comfort.

Neville bit his bottom lip, “Nothing really, just the usual.” He mumbled.

I had to hold back yet another sigh.

“You know, I've never sighed and groaned so much in my life.” I said aloud, but it was more to myself than Neville, but he nodded in understanding anyway.

“It's pretty hopeless, isn't it?” I asked softly, looking at the water that was starting to fill Neville's brown eyes.

He just turned his head slowly to stare a me, my own expression of desperation mirrored in his face.

“C'mon, we need to find you something for your date tonight.” He said with a gentle smile as he wiped his eyes swiftly.

“First off, don't call it that. And secondly, how did you know about that.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a sheepish look as he headed to my closest. I didn't know if he was apologizing for ease dropping or using the suddenly offensive word. As I watched him dig through my shirts, I decided it was both.

“I think you should go for a slightly formal look, Malfoy tends to take things overboard, even dinner.” He said as he held up a pair of expensive black slacks and a long sleeve button down emerald shirt.

“The shirt will match your eyes.” He said casually as he tossed the clothes to me.

“Top it off with these” He indicated a pair of black,shiny, loafers and a black leather jacket.

“You'll look stunning.” He grinned at me and I tried to smile back. Neville was obviously at the 'enjoy the small (very, very, small) things' stage.

“Hurry, you don't want to be late.” He waved me behind the changing blinds with the outfit he had deemed appropriate.


“Oh Harry, you looks amazing.” Neville gushed when I stepped out in my outfit.

“I don't know what to do with my hair.” I tried to humor him, feelings guilty for my early negligence.

“Leave it, it looks great. It's messy, but more 'just got shagged messy', not 'just rolled out of bed messy'.” He chuckled when he saw me blush. How had I missed this side of Neville? Had he really changed that much since Hogwarts? It hasn't been long at all, how was that possible?

The harsh knock on the door interrupted my thoughts and I looked towards Neville nervously. I was suddenly terrified. What was I suppose to do? I wished I could just be angry, annoyed, frustrated. Those were easier emotions to deal with than fear and anxiety, which seemed to have taken permanent residence in my mind lately.

“Here,” Neville tossed the badge at me.

“Don't ever except gifts from him, no matter how small, or any Praesul for that matter. Don't sleep with him. Don't leave grounds with him. Don't agree to meet his family. Try not to out right refuse of course, just don't do it. Keep it casual, be as distant as you can without seeming rebellious or disobedient.”

Another knock interrupted his directions and I was suddenly more nervous then ever.

“Okay, go, you're ready, you look great.” Neville smiled reassuringly while giving me a lame thumbs up sign.
I couldn't help but frown back as I put my badge on and shuffled towards the door.

“Harry Potter?” A tall, muscled, man with sandy blond hair and blue eyes asked when I opened the door. It didn't sound like a question, even though I knew it was suppose to be.

“Yes,” I answered anyway, not knowing what else to say. Fuck off sounded a lot better to me, but this didn't look like a man I was in a hurry to tick off.

“Follow me please,” He said simply, before swiftly turning and marching down the hall.
I hustled after him, the badge flapping against my chest.

He led me out of the building and across the grounds to the beautiful building Neville had pointed out. To my surprise Draco was standing outside in front of two, giant yet elegant double doors.

He too was wearing black slacks with black loafers. But to accompany it he had on a simple slip on tan sweater with a white oxford shirt underneath. His long blond hair was pulled back into a lose pony tail. His hands were behind his back and he stood perfectly still. He wasn't smiling but there was a surprisingly pleasant look on his face.

He nodded to the guard before telling him he had it from here. He looked at me and spoke, but I didn't hear him. I was mesmerized. He...looked gorgeous. Absolutely, breathtakingly, beautiful. I shook my head when I realized I was dangerously close to sounding like a virginal school girl.

But I couldn't help it. Draco was hardly recognizable. His once lanky frame had filled out in to that of a still lean, but mosre toned athlete. He had grown an inch or two, putting him at about 6'2, beating out my 5'10. His eyes were warmer than I remembered, the blue appearing to be more like a crystal clear ocean than a frozen over lake. His features were well defined, sharp but not overly so, it suited him well. His once chalky pale skin now held a radiant glow. Still fair, but appearing much more healthy.

“Potter? Did you hear me?” He asked, and his singing voice seemed to fit his Greek God appearance.

“You have a strange accent.” I mumbled weekly and he grinned slightly.

“British and French accents seem to mix oddly.” He said simply, the faint grin revealing a pair of brilliantly white, straight teeth. Did the perfection never end?

“French?” I asked dumbly, but thankfully without a stutter. Surely this was not Malfoy, Draco Malfoy . The angelic creature before me was much to divine to be that bastard.

“Yes, until recently that's where I have been the past two years or so.” He said, his eyes never wavering from mine. It was hypnotic and unsettling all at the same time.

“I like it.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. I prayed that I wasn't blushing, but by the smirk lighting up Malfoy's face, I knew I was.

“Thank you, follow me if you will.” He said in a more cheerful voice than I ever thought I would hear coming from Malfoy's lips. I blindly walked after him, thankful that he had let my slip go so easily. I would have to be more guarded. But as I watched him walk, his perfect arse moving under his tight fitting slacks, I knew that was going to be a lot harder than I had originally thought.


By the time we made it to Malfoy's rooms I was physically having to stop myself from panting. I'm sure when I was back to the confinement of my room, away from the obvious spell Malfoy had me under, I would regret feeling this way, but at the moment all I could think about was what Malfoy would look like with out the bothersome shield of clothing.

Draco led me through his chambers. Through the entry way and the living room before we were in the dining room. He had excellent decorating taste, his place was beautiful. It was dark but classy, with just enough color to make it peaceful and homey. I was impressed.

“I wasn't sure what you liked so I just made something simple.” Draco said as he sat down at the magnificently decorated wooden table. He motioned for me to sit across from him but I was too stunned to move. Did Draco Malfoy just admit that he had cooked? Was the world going mad? Or was it just me?

“Are you going to sit?” He asked, “I would pull your chair out for you but I'd rather not get punched tonight.”
The smirk on his face should make me want to punch him, but it didn't. Shockingly, it made me smile. It wasn't the vicious smirk I was use to seeing at school, it was more playful...innocent.

I sat down slowly, cautiously. What was Malfoy playing at?

“I hope you like it, the garlic sauce on the potatoes is my own recipe.”

I jumped back up, knocking my chair to the floor in the process. My mouth was wide open and I'm sure my eyes looked like they would pop out of my skull any second now. I could see the surprised expression on Malfoy's face but I was sure it was no where near as shocked as my own.

“What the bloody hell is the matter with you?” I demanded, my eyes narrowing from their comical wideness to suspicious slits.

Malfoy just shook his head, pretending not to understand what I was talking about.

“You are not Draco Malfoy.” I informed rather than questioned.

Draco smirked again, “I assure you I am.”

This time his smirk did make me want to drop kick him.

I shook my head more forcefully than was necessary.

“Garlic sauce?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Malfoy said slowly, as if he were talking to someone with a lower than average IQ.
Realizing that he wasn't going to explain himself and that the world as I knew it was very obviously coming to an end, I picked my chair up and warily sat back down.

“As I was saying, the garlic sauce recipe is my own, it took me a few misguided attempts to finally achieve one I like, but I think it's delicious, I hope you like it.” Draco continued as if my outburst had never happened, and for that I was greatful.

“You cook?” I asked timidly, desperate to keep him talking before he decided to start asking me questions.

“Yes, I do. I find it a lot like potions, only better tasting.” He teased, taking a bite of chicken.

“Neat.” I said lamely, scratching the back of my neck and staring at my very appetizing plate.

“Would you like some wine?” He asked politely, holding up the iced bottle in his hand.

I nodded and watched as the liquid flowed from the tip of the bottle into my wine glass. I never noticed how long and elegant Malfoy's hands were. His long, lean fingers made my mind wonder and I blushed. How could a body part as innocent as hands make my brain run in a totally, and completely, non-innocent direction?

'This is Malfoy' I reminded myself, taking a bite of mixed vegetables to distract myself from my mind's naughty wanderings.

That's when a totally new sensation hit me, a more edible sensation, an altogether mouth watering taste.

“This is delicious!” I exclaimed, my mouth still full.

Draco chuckled, “You aren't suppose to talk with food in your mouth, but thank you.”

I ignored him, digging into the rest of my meal. I hadn't eaten food like this since Mrs. Weasley's cooking.

That thought made my throat close up and I started chocking. I grabbed my napkin, covering my mouth as I struggled to force the food down my throat. Once I managed to swallow, I started in with a coughing fit, my eyes watering.

Draco was by my side, patting me on the back, a look of concern in my eyes. I wanted to push him away, I wanted to demand to know what was going on, what had happened to him, why he was being so nice. But a more dire situation presented itself: the fact that I could not breathe.

“Relax Harry,” Draco mumbled, his hot breath blowing against my ear. Well that certainly would help me calm down.

But I did try to relax, and my coughing subsided and I gulped in mouth fulls of air.

“What happened?” Malfoy asked as he moved back to his own chair, after making sure that my fit was over.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, closing my eyes tightly. I would not cry. Not here.

Malfoy let it go and I again wondered why he hadn't taken the multiple opportunities that had presented themselves to him to embarrass and harass me.

I took a sip of water to soothe my aflame throat, the cold liquid slid down my pharynx like ice rain hitting the drought desert ground.

“Well, are you well now?” Draco asked casually and I could tell he wasn't trying to press me for more information.

I nodded, debating if I should try another bite or not.

“So Marcus tells me that you are roommates with Neville. How is that working?” Draco asked politely.

“Fine.”

“Good,” Draco smiled slightly, continuing to eat his food.

I chanced another small bite of potato.

“I also hear that Hermione Weasley is pregnant.” It wasn't a question but I nodded anyway.

“Boy or girl?”

“One of each.”

“Natural or no?”

“No,” I spit bitterly and Draco stared at me, a blank look on his face.

I didn't explain and he didn't ask.

Most of the remaining meal was spent in silence, only a few words being exchanged between us. However, it wasn't completely awkward, not as much as I would have thought before.

“That was very good Malfoy, thank you.” I said as I sat my napkin on my plate.

“Thank you for coming Harry, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself.” He smiled politely.

We stared at each other for a moment. Blue meeting green. Silver meeting red.

I wished I knew what he was thinking, that just for this moment I could be in his head. What did he want? What did he expect? Why was he acting this way? I couldn't figure it out and it was driving me crazy.

“So,” I said, running my hand through my hair. Was I suppose to leave now? Would I have to be followed by a guard or was I a big enough boy now to find my room on my own.

Draco smiled, amused by my apparent lack of comfort.

“Would you like to go out for some ice cream?” He asked cheerfully, flashing me a brilliant million watt smile that would put the sun to shame.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered Neville's warning, but in that moment I would have followed him anywhere. His eyes, his smile, his cheerful demeanor, the way his skin glistened by the candles he had placed in the center of the table, the fact that he was romantic enough to even put out candles, it all did me in.

Wow, I never knew I was such a sucker for a pretty face. But then again, I doubt I had ever seen a face as exquisite as the man's in front of me. Malfoy schmalfoy, I wanted him.

“Sure,” I nodded.

People say that you aren't able to truly recognize the important moments in your life when they're happening, it's only in hindsight that you see the events that changed your life forever. I was about to get a first hand lesson in the truth of that statement.