Inwardlygroaning,Dracodownedtherestofhiswineandshookhishead.HisgazeroamedPotter’sbody,heatrisinginhischest.Eventhoughhisrobesdidn’tgiveawaymuch,DracoknewfromthepictureshehadseenintheProphetthatPotterhadfilledout.Itsuitedhim.DracolikedthefactthatPotterdidn’tlooksodelicateanymore.HealsolikedthefactthatPotterwasstillshorterthanhim,evenifitonlywasbyafewinches.
Beforeheknewit,hiseyesweregluedtoPotter’slipsagain,unabletoshakethesuddenurgetotouchthem.Forthelongesttimehehadwantedtotouchthem.Itwasthemostfrustratingthing.Draco’sgazemomentarilyflickeredtoPotter’sglass,whichhehadraisedtohismouth.Butbeforehislipstouchedit,histonguedartedoutandheslowlylickedtherim.Dracofeltaviolentshuddergothroughhim,notonlybecausethiswasfarmoresensualthanshouldbeallowed,butmainly,becauseherealisedPotterwaslookingathim.Hadhedonethatonpurpose?HadheseenDracostaringathim?Fuck!
PanicwashedoverhimashewatchedPottermumblesomethingtothetwowizardswhowerestillstrokinghim,andmarchovertowhereDracoandBlaisewerestanding.Dracowantedtoboltbutfoundhimselfrootedtothespot.
“Ifeellikeyou’reavoidingme,”Pottersaidpoint-blank.Dracowasn’tsureifheshouldbrushitoffwithalaughordenyit.Beforehecoulddecide,Blaisesniggeredbesidehim.
“Takeitasacompliment,”hesaid,touchinghisglasstoPotter’s.Draco’smouthdroppedopenandittookeverythinginhimnottoshoutathisfriendtoshutthefuckup.
“Take—What?”Potterlookedconfused.Good.He’dalwaysbeentoodensetopickuponthingslikethat.
“DoesthegreatHarryPotternotfeelpamperedenough?”Dracodrawled,hisheadswimming.Assoonasthewordslefthismouth,however,heinwardlycringed.ThiswasanotherreasonwhyhehadavoidedPotter.He’dbeenafraidsomethingstupidlikethatmighttumbleoutofhismouth.Butwhatthehellwashesupposedtosaytohim?PotterhadsavedhimandhismotherfromAzkaban,showingthemmoresympathythantheyprobablydeserved.Thatinitselfwasproblematicenough.Therealproblem,though?Itwasn’tinDraco’snaturetosimplyreciprocatesuchsympathy.
“Don’tbeadick,Malfoy,”Pottermuttered,ablushcreepingontohischeeks.“Ijustwantedtotalktoyou.Isthatsobad?”
Yes,Dracowantedtoblurt.Instead,hestupidlyasked,“Why?”
Potterjustshrugged,promptingDracotonarrowhiseyesinsuspicion.
“Youknowwhat,Idon’twanttokeepyouguysfromcatchingup,”Blaisesaidcheerfully.“Ta-ta!”Withinseconds,Dracolostsightofhim,leavinghimhelplessanddizzy.
“Okay,um—”Potterlookedunsure,tappingafingeronhisglass.“Howaboutwegetanotherdrinkfirst?”
Dracothoughtheprobablyalreadyhadenoughatthispoint,butsomethingaboutPotter’sexpressionmadehimagreewithanod.Hewassmiling…almostshyly.
“Alrightthen,”Pottersaid,andgesturedforDracotoleadtheway.Assoonashestartedwalking,hefeltahandonthesmallofhisbackandalmostchoked.HisheadwhippedaroundtoPotter,whogavehimaninnocentlookandthen…anothersmile.Draco’seyesdarteddowntohislipsandthenbacktohiseyes.
OhMerlin,hewascompletelyfucked.
Chapter2:That’shonestlyworse
Sunday,15December2002
Dracoexperimentallyopenedoneofhiseyes,justtobegreetedbyharshsunlightthatmadehimfeellikehisheadwasexploding.Ugh!Hehadn’tfeltthishorriblesincetwoyearsago,whenBlaisehadneededadrinkingbuddy,afterhehadcaughthisthen-girlfriendcheatingonhim.Thathadbeentheworsthangoverofhislife.But,fromthelooksofit,thisoneseemedtobeturningintoacloserunner-up.
Whimpering,hedraggedhimselftothebathroomandrummagedthroughthecabinetforahangoverpotion.Hehatedthatstuff,ittastedawful,anditdidn’treallyhelpwiththeheadache,butstill,itwasquickerthanjustwaitingforthequeasinesstosubside.Whenhefoundit,hequicklyuncorkedthelittlevialanddowneditinonegulp,immediatelybrushinghisteethafterwardstogetridoftheaftertaste.
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