Love Under Will
Chapter Three
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R for language, frequent sexual situations, and angst
Disclaimer: I don't own anything here, except the writing. No profit is intended except the sheer joy I get out of constructing this story.
Note: Info on points raised throughout the story will always be chapter-specific; look at the end of each chapter for notes as necessary.
Chapter Three: Duels and Detentions
The morning brought with it the first real snowfall of the season. When Draco awoke after his fitful nights sleep, he found the whole of Hogwarts shrouded in white. Everywhere houses buzzed with anticipation; by noon, if it kept up, there were guaranteed to be excellent snowball fights. Draco was glad for the clamor and racket being made; a school full of excitement made it easier for him to keep his mind off Harry Potter.
He thought he was doing a good job tuning in to the general flurry of chatter and tuning out thoughts of the green-eyed Gryffindor, who kept intruding into his minds eye and alarming Draco by looking better and better each time. He thought he was genuinely interested in the discussion of how much Gryffindor ass his house would kick in the snow later on. But he didnt really start to wake up until&
Whatsamatter, Harry? Couldnt sleep well?
All right, I guess. Why dyou ask?
You just look like bloody hell, sall.
Been having wet dreams again, Harry?
Oh, honestly, Fred, not at breakfast!
Ah, well, if the lady insists.
Lucky save, Harry.
Draco, walking by the Gryffindors on his way out, thought Potter didn't look all that bad.
Come to mention it...
Damn.
Mr. Potter, what exactly are you doing with Malfoys wolfsbane?
Waiting for him to tell me what to do with it, sir, replied Potter suavely, grappling with the huge clump of herbs in front of him. A very Malfoyesque smirk was playing about the corners of his mouth.
Mr. Malfoy, please instruct Mr. Potter that he is not to let his own lack of intelligence impede your progress in this course.
You heard the man, Potter. Chop chop.
Potter gave Draco a raised eyebrow and curtly lay into the wolfsbane with the very dull lab knife Draco had personally chosen for him.
Day two of the Deathjoy Serum lectures had commenced, and they were now learning the complicated process by which the potion was made. Since no one could figure out why on earth anyone would actually use the potion to begin with, both houses were for once in full agreement that the whole thing was a waste of time. Draco was fairly sure Snape must have foreseen this, as his splitting them into partners from opposite houses was the only thing keeping them all from tearing their hair out in boredom. Snape was very perceptive that way, Draco knew, although a secondary motive must have also been to enjoy watching the students try not to kill each other. Potter was currently seething as he tried in vain to cut through the thick gnarled strands of wolfsbane. Draco was certainly having a good time.
Oh, very nice, Potter, he chuckled. You know, cutting the plant is always recommended. Although I will say your way of banging it on the end of the table is highly amusing.
Shut up and get me a real knife.
Oh, there arent any left. But cut it crossways, likethis he demonstrated briefly, gracefully carving a slice off as though the knife were razor sharpthen youll at least put it out of its misery.
Potter stared at Draco, then down at the herb, then grumbled something inaudible. Oh, cheer up, Potter. Maybe youll win points by producing the worlds first Deathjoy Syrup.
And maybe Ill use it on you, after I accidentally mess up a few key ingredients.
Youre one to talk, Potter, having so many key ingredients missing yourself. A proper family, a proper pedigree
Well, at least my pedigree isnt longer than my Potter ceased abruptly as Snape came around to eye his progress. He irritably sawed at an edge of the herb. When Snape had moved away again he resumed his challenging glare at Draco.
Draco said flatly, eyes glimmering, I have a Very. Long. Pedigree.
Potters ears turned pink, and he distractedly hacked off a huge chunk of wolfsbane, which flew across the room, hitting Pansy Parkinson squarely in the backside.
Draco and Potter both exploded with laughter. It didnt help that Pansy didnt notice a thing, and they found themselves choking back snorts, which only made it worse. Draco refrained from looking at Potter, but he couldnt help but notice how new and fresh Potters laugh wasa resonant chuckle Draco had rarely heard.
He was thinking it was a very nice laugh when Snape was before them, seething.
Potter! What do you think youre doing?
It was my fault, Professor, Draco blurted without thinking.
What the what did you just DO?!
The entire class, including Snape, was now staring at Draco with collective astonishment.
I tried to show Potter how its supposed to be done and I, well, I suppose Im a bit too efficient for my own good. He raised an eyebrow and smirked confidently up at Snape.
Yes& Snape appeared gravely perplexed. Mr. Malfoy, perhaps try not to be quite so thorough next time.
He cant help it. He has a very thorough pedigree, Potter chimed in with perfect sang froid.
Draco shot Potter a look, saw the green eyes dancing with challenge, and had to fight not to laugh. It helped that Potters gaze was lingering on him, a kind of soft amusement in his expression. When Snape left them alone, Draco stared back at Potter, his eyes warily daring him to say thank you. Potter, however, didnt seem about to acknowledge that anything remotely extraordinary had occurred.
They looked silently at each other, until a chill suddenly ran through Draco, and he turned away.
Take that, Malfoy, you slimy son of a bitch!
Ah&music to my ears.
It seemed Ronald Weasley was never happier than when he was yelling insults at Draco Malfoy. Today the pleasure was apparently doubled by the fact that he could also throw snowballs at the Slytherin with impunity, since everybody else was doing it.
No one was quite sure how the war had begun; Draco suspected it started with Millicent chunking a clod of mud deceptively packed in snow at Parvati Patil, who, instead of just reciprocating, attempted with a whoop to tackle her and make her eat the concoction shed just thrown. By the time Draco came to Millicents rescue and pulled Parvati off of her, he was being pelted with various frozen objects, all of them cold and wet, by the Gryffindor fifth-years. Weasley had just hurled an icicle at his heart, and Draco leveled a snowball at him in retaliation. It struck him in the forehead with a satisfying sploosh! and, far more importantly, caused laughter from among the other Gryffindorsespecially Granger, who snickered before she could help herself, to Rons infinite embarrassment. Turning even pinker than he already was from the bite of the wind, he chunked a thick block of sludge at Crabbe. The thought didnt seem to occur to Crabbe to dodge it until he was fielding a chest full of snow.
Next time, try moving out of the way, you idiot! Draco said, his laugh more amusement than contempt.
Crabbe looked up and blinked, He was too fast!
Draco grinned. Thats okay. You take Thomas and Bongbottom and Ill go after Weasley for you. He scrambled for the most densely packed snow he could find and lucked out on a wedge of ice caked in mud. Perfect, he said with a wink at Crabbe, who unfortunately had lumbered off to pour snow down Nevilles coat. Draco flexed his gloved fingers and rounded off the ice-mud combo with some fresh, very wet snow. Dean Thomas was ducking a punch from Goyle, who had decided after getting an eyeful of water not to bother with the whole snow thing. Draco watched the whole yard-full of fighting with a smirking satisfaction. Beautiful day, really, he thought, as he raised his arm to hurl the wad of snow at Weasley
At the same moment he felt a strong hand on his arm, and a thrill rushed through him. Even without turning around he somehow knew exactly whose fingers were grabbing his wrist, and a sardonic smile flickered across his face.
You dont really want to do that, do you? Potter said lightly behind him, his voice tickling Dracos ear.
Draco turned around and eyed him, the snowball still clenched in his fist, Potter still grappling with him. His smirk gave a charming lightheartedness to his features, and Dracos own gaze softened under his. Are you asking me to dance, Potter?
Only if youll follow my lead, answered Potter smoothly.
Draco had to fight off a shiver of pleasure at being right where he was, and, slightly alarmed at just how right it felt, he broke away from Potters grasp and nonchalantly tossed the ball of ice in the air. I think not, Potter. Best get someone whos in love with you for thatshouldnt be too hard to find. Perhaps Colin Creevey would volunteer.
Instead of retorting, Potter actually laughed.
Draco couldnt really believe it. Oh, well, he said. Your loss, Potter. And he tossed the snowball at Potters head.
Reciproca, Potter snapped promptly, and the snowball turned and whizzed toward Draco.
Draco ducked, retorted, Duplicatem reciproca! and pointed his wandthe ice cloned itself, and both clods rushed at Potter.
Duplicatem reciproca! echoed Potter.
Now there were four, all coming for Draco, who stepped back, thinking quickly, and finally shouted, Petrificus leviosa! The ice turned into wood. He froze the balls in midair with a hovering charm just before they reached him, and just as quickly hurled them back to Potter with breakneck speed.
Potters eyes widened. Incendio! he cried out in the nick of time. Flames shot onto the careening wooden clods and sped back toward Draco. People were starting to gather around, watching them.
Draco gulped. Hydralis! The flames went out just in time and he yelled, Reciproca! over his shoulder as he ducked the four snowballs, which went flying back towards Potter.
Several people applauded.
Draco looked around. The rest of the Gryffindors and the Slytherins had encircled them curiously, looking on in mild excitement as Draco and Potter faced off. Potter, who had a hovering charm on the frozen objects, seemed quite bewildered by the response, but he kept his cool as Draco called out, Whats the matter, Potter? You can handle the Dark Lord but you cant handle this?
Tarentellegra, Potter said promptly, and Draco was doing an uncontrollable, jerky quick-step.
Whats going on? Bongbottom was asking anxiously.
Its a wizards duel between Malfoy and Potter, one of the Gryffindor girls answered.
The first one to bow out or miss thinking of a proper spell in time loses, the mudblood added. You cant use your hands.
Will Harry be all right? Bongbottom squeaked.
Draco, no longer dancing, rolled his eyes and sent a tickling charm towards Potter, who dodged and responded with the Fernunculus charm. Draco blocked it with the slug-belching spell Ron had unsuccessfully tried on him once.
Hell be fine, Neville, Weasley said dismissively. After all, hes taken on You-Know-Whohe can handle someone as incompetent as Malfoy.
Draco couldnt respond, as he was too busy returning Potters Leg-locker curse with a Conjunctivitus spell that rendered those charming nerd-boy glasses quite useless. Since Potter was momentarily quite blind, it would have been the perfect instant to level him with a stunning spell, but just as Draco raised his wand again, Potter shouted Optolis reparo! frantically and his vision returned. Lumos solarem! he yelled, flinging his wand at the Slytherin. Draco was instantly blinded by a huge light beam slamming against his eyes.
Reducio! the light became a tiny thread. He yelled back, temper rising, Humphrendium!
A boggart shot out of his wand, which was starting to quiver slightlyat least, hed intended it to be a boggart, but what emerged was a hideous sighta Dementor. Their ever-enlarging audience gasped and a shiver ran through both Potter and Draco as the black hooded figure moved slowly for Potter.
Expecto Patronum! Potter yelled, his voice breathtakingly confident. The end of his wand exploded in a huge, silvery shape that it took Draco no time at all to recognize as the ghostly animal that had charged him that day on the Quidditch field when he stood on Crabbes shoulders disguised as a Dementor. He backed away as the boggart wavered and vanishedthe stag dissolved into air just before it reached Draco, who couldnt help looking back at Potter, thoroughly impressed. Potter looked ready to kill, however, and too late, Draco realized that launching a Dementor on him might not have been the wisest thing to do. Potter raised his wand, out for blood.
What followed next was very rapid and very heated:
Engorgio!
Minimus!
Saligulum!
Impedimenta!
Reductor!
Avis!
Felinis!
Mobili-corpus!
Leadenate!
Wingarmentia!
With a whisk, Potters shirt flew off. He looked down in shock, then back at Draco, who, apart from being momentarily stunned that anyones torso could look that perfect, realized at once what could only be the outcome of this if allowed to continue&.
Expelliarmus! They shouted at the same time. Their wands gave a violent shake and flew up out of their hands, colliding with a crack about thirty feet above their heads before falling to the ground. Draco, blood pounding in his veins, quickly bent to retrieve his wand, which seemed to be pulsing with as much energy as he felt. Potter also moved for his, although the Slytherin knew instinctively that he had no intention of attacking first. Draco didnt particularly want to launch into another round. It was a wonderful experience to have such a blatant test of his abilities, and his heart was racing with the emotion coursing through him; but he didnt necessarily want to direct his anger at Potter, for what reason, he couldnt say.
As Draco wiped his wand off on his robe, Ron Weasley shouted spitefully, Youll never be a match for Harry, Malfoy!
Draco whirled. Potter, in the middle of retrieving his shirt, whirled too, but Draco had already pointed his wand and said softly, his voice ice, Arachnis.
Hed muttered the first thing he could think of, intending to send a string of spiders dancing at Weasley. What happened instead made the entire crowd draw back, except for Weasley, who literally froze on the spot with terror, and the mudblood, who gulped and stayed by his side. The largest tarantula Draco had ever seen had emerged from the end of his wand, now quivering almost dangerously in his hands. Largeit was a small giant, three feet wide at least, not counting its hideous legs. It landed heavily on the ground with a soft whomp, and then righted itself, huge furry legs writhing, evidently pissed as hell.
It went straight for Weasley.
In an instant Potter was next to Draco, who was staring openmouthed in astonishment at the thing hed produced. Reducio, Potter said intently, keeping his eyes trained on the arachnid. His spell simply bounced off the shell of the spider and only served to irritate it. It snapped out in response, and Weasleys mouth dropped open in a silent expression of horror so vivid it hurt Draco to look at. Potter blinked and looked down at his wand. Draco couldnt help doing the same thing, and at once he found Potters eyes meeting his, silently asking him why didnt that work?
Harry, Ive got it, Granger said, her voice trembling, and making a concerted effort to steady herself, she moved slightly in front of Weasley and performed a vanishing spell. It had no affect. She glared at Draco, seething with anger and indignation. Malfoy, you dirty littlethis is Dark magic!
It isnt! shouted Draco loudly.
I dont think its his fault, Potter muttered right beside him.
The spider was now only a few feet away from Weasley; Granger had stepped back and tried to pull Weasley back with her, but Weasley only let out a whimper and clutched her so tightly she gasped from the pain. Draco sized up the situation, and raised his wand, still vibrating tightly in his hand.
No! cried Granger, pinning her eyes shut.
Finite Incantatem!
With a crack, the spider disappeared.
Weasley looked as though he were ready to faint with relief, and for the first time in his life, Draco had to admit he understood how he felt. The mudblood instantly rounded on him and gave him a look that was sure to be followed by another infamous slap like the one shed given him as a third-year, but Potter was there before her, restraining her gently, his eyes looking back at Draco with a hint of a question in them. He knows I didnt mean to produce that, Draco thought, and then he wondered why Potter would care one way or the other.
Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy.
The voice was the last Draco would have expected. Dumbledore was standing a ways away from them, and from the look of things had been apparently observing them both for some length of time. He stood, hands in his robes, gazing at them quizzically, his eyes lingering on Draco much longer than Draco was used to.
It was Malfoys fault, sir, he shot a huge tarantula at Ronhe could have been killed, gasped Granger, still livid with anger. Potter, however, stayed quiet, his eyes clouded over in thoughtfulness.
I did see the giant arachnid of which you spoke, Miss Granger, said Dumbledore gently, with a kind smile at Granger and the still trembling Weasley. He must really be petrified of spiders, thought Draco, watching the headmaster shrewdly. Dumbledore bent close to him and asked, in a voice low enough for only he, Draco, and Potter to hear, I must ask, Draco Draco couldnt help but notice Potter flinch as Dumbledore referred to him by his first name, a distinction Draco knew he used on rare occasions, except for his prize favorite, Potter himselfhas your wand been acting properly these days?
Draco nodded. It hadnt done anything extraordinary at all, other than a little vibratingwell, unless you counted producing a giant spider ten times the size of the one intended& Its seemed to be doing fine so far, sir, he said expressionlessly.
Dumbledore assessed this with a nod. It is a fine wand, indeed, he said, with a tone that implied he could have said much more. Draco tried not to roll his eyes. After all, he could easily have gotten detention plus more if Dumbledore so chose. The headmaster, however, had already turned to Weasley. You are sufficiently recovered, I hope, Mr. Weasley, to join us all for dinner? Weasley nodded, not deigning to hide his amazement that Dumbledore had issued no punishment for Draco. Excellent. Im told there is to be an abundance of snow cones this evening. I must say Im rather excited.
And placing one arm upon Grangers shoulder and the other on Weasleys, he walked blithely with them back up to the dining hall. Draco and Potter stood looking after him in puzzlement. The other students followed, some looking back to throw a good show! at the two duelists. After a moment Potter gave a last, searching look at Draco and ran ahead to join Weasley and Granger. The trio made their way up the snow-covered hill, leaving Draco alone with his wand wondering what the bloody hell had just happened.
When he arrived at the dining hall, Draco purposely sat at the end of the Slytherin table nearest the Gryffindors, waiting to see what the trio might have to say about the fight.
He didnt have to wait long. Weasley launched into a very rude, very loud tirade on just what all hed like to do to that slimy, dirty, rotten son of a ferret-faced squib Malfoy, a tirade interrupted at times either by Granger chiding or chiming in, depending on how animated Weasley allowed himself to be. Potter, however, seemed engrossed in his thoughts, so much so that finally Ron stopped and asked, But Harry, what is it? Youre being awfully quiet. Id think youd be glad you nearly beat that dirty
Im fine, Ron, came the short reply.
You dont sound fine, thought Draco curiously.
Rons right, Harry, you do look worried about something.
Silence, and then: Have you ever thought you knew someone, knew them inside-outI mean, pretty much had them pegged, only to suddenly&
Suddenly realize you were wrong about them? finished Granger.
No! No, not wrong
Bastard, thought Draco, pleased all the same.
But just that maybe things arent as simple as you first thought.
Wellblimey, HarryWeasley sounded like he was talking through a mouthful of foodYou of all people should know that nothings ever that simple. Specially not around you. Black and white, good guy, bad guythey dont really pop up that easily.
Thoughtful silence, followed bitterly by, Unless youre talking about Malfoy, of course. Theres only one way to read him, and thats evil.
A sharp clatter, as though someone had just dropped their silverware.
Harryyouyoure not talking about Ma?
What? hastily, from Potter.
Nothing, Granger said quickly. Just forget it, its ridiculous.
Another silence, this one dead.
Come on, Draco thought through gritted teeth, does he hate me or does he hate me?He turned around, eyed the Gryffindor table, and called out, Hey, Potter, got the snow off your robes yet? Potter turned, his eyes intense.
Actually, if I tried, I could probably still find some left to shove down your throat.
Tell him, Harry.
Draco rolled his eyes. What are you on about, Weasel? Youre only brave when someone else is sticking up for you, is that it? I didnt see you and the Mudblood rushing to help Potter out when I was kicking his arse.
Weasley furiously sent sparks at Dracos direction. They hit his plate and a stream of jello shot onto Dracos robes. The Gryffindors laughed.
Dont call her that, you pureblood disgrace! Weasley seethed.
Potter added, his eyes narrow and steady on Dracos, and dont play with your food.
Instantly Potter retaliated, sending a giant swab of jello hurtling towards Weasleys temple.
Oh, honestly, people, if youre going to act like third-graders, then why dont you just go sign up for Kwikspell lessons right now? Granger crossed her arms indignantly as Potter scooped up a pile of mashed potatoes and whizzed them over the several feet of distance between the two tables. They ended by colliding with Goyles head as he turned to see what the ruckus was. Draco flicked a bunch of grapes systematically into Granger's hair, some bouncing off of her nose and into her salad, and her rant ended mid-sentence. Oh, that does it! she seethed, and, whipping out her wand, she sent the plates of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, up, up, over their heads. They looked up in astonishment, but Draco was the only one with sense enough to jump back out of his seat when she whispered, mobiliperverto! and the plates flipped upside down, depositing large amounts of food all over their faces, hands, robes, and clothes.
Draco got away with only a splattering of corn juice that dribbled down the edge of his chin. As he licked his lips and spirited away the mess with the corner of his napkin he noticed Potter watching him. A smirk automatically swept over his features. Do you like what you see, Potter&?
Who did this? It was McGonagall. The smirk disappeared as instantly as it came. She looked with a long, suspicious glare from the Slytherins to the Gryffindors.
Malfoy started it! Weasley said automatically. Draco rolled his eyes and sent all the disdain, loathing, and disgust in his soul over towards the whiny redhead.
I highly doubt Malfoy would overturn his dinner over the heads of his own friends, Mr. Weasley, McGonagall snapped. There was a moment of silence as she turned her full attention to the Gryffindors. The Slytherins snickered. Well?
I did it, Professor, Potter piped up calmly, Draco noticing the way he kicked Granger under the table. McGonagall wasnt fooledcasting a raised eyebrow towards Hermione she asked, are you sure, Mr. Potter?
Potter met her gaze and responded without losing his look of calm control, Yes, Professor.
McGonagall gave him a look that clearly said, Very well, its your funeral, and turned back to Draco. Mr. Malfoy, you will receive detention with Mr. Potter. After a weighty pause, she added, I am also taking 50 points from each of your houses. Really, gentlementwo duels in one day is getting a bit ridiculous.
As she walked away, Weasley sulked, Granger protested Potters bravery, and Potter sat back and eyed Draco sullenly. Draco did likewise, returning to his chair and kicking back, letting his body relax as he drank in the hostility pouring from Potters gaze. Potter had no idea how bloody good he looked when he was being serious. He had a righteous indignation that seeped from every inch of his body, even the inches Draco couldnt see.
Youre checking out Harry Potter.
Youve got to spend an hour of detention with that.
Damn.
______
�You wanna dance?� --Bryan Singer and Chris McQuarrie, the Usual Suspects. Also a shout-out to Angela-rama, who loves Harry and nerd-boys (with or without glasses). *hugs* Also, thanks to Aimee, who warned me about being too cheesy with the Latin curses. Hope I did it right.