Cold as Ice

Chapter 2.

Harry stood in shock. He refused to take in what Draco had just said.

'Wh...what?' he stammered eventually.

'Never mind.' Draco looked embarrassed, as though he regretted saying anything.

'No, tell me. What did you say?' Harry urged. Silently, he hoped with all his might that he heard wrong.

'I...I'm going back to the dormitory,' Draco mumbled. Before Harry could say another word, he had set off back to the Slytherin common room.

Maybe it's just a just a bad dream, Harry thought to himself as he picked up his things. Maybe I'll just wake up and it will all be a distant, not too clear memory.

But no matter how hard he tried, he knew this was real. Draco had said that he, Harry, was all he lived. Harry shuddered.

'I always knew there was something about him that wasn't quite right,' he muttered to himself as he crawled into bed fifteen minutes later.

The following morning, Draco awoke with the mother of all hangovers pounding through his whole body. Just sitting up made his stomach churn like a cement mixer. Naturally, the next step was legging it to the bathroom and sticking his head down a toilet.

Thank God it's Saturday, Draco thought as he gasped for breath. He felt sicker than he had in his entire life. Plus, he couldn't remember a thing he had done the night before.

And yet... a faint memory of a moonlit window... a dark haired figure... Harry? Draco strained his alcohol-saturated brain for more fragments, but the mental force did nothing more than make him vomit again.

He still had nothing more to thing on when he finally went back to the dormitory. He got dressed gingerly and headed outside, too ill for breakfast.

Unfortunately, most of the students had already finished breakfast and were taking in the unusually warm October sun. A group of Slytherins started calling Draco over when they saw him. He didn't go to them. Instead, he went and sat alone by the lake.

As he sat, a few more images of last night filtered into his head - green eyes behind glasses, widening in shock, his own voice saying... something, he couldn't make out the words...

Draco groaned and looked out across the water. He had a fair idea of what he had said in his drunken state, even if he couldn't remember the words he had used, and the knowledge made him cringe. If he was right, he'd told Harry how he really felt.

Suddenly, the very person occupying every cell of Draco's brain was stood in front of him.

'I see you survived the night then,' Harry said. His voice wasn't kindly, but neither was it harsh. Draco couldn't answer him; he could only stare at how amazing Harry looked that morning. His hair was wet, presumably from the shower, he was wearing a white T-shirt that showed off his tanned muscular arms, and his eyes were glittering in the sunlight so that they looked like chips of emerald in Harry's fair face.

'Hello? Earth to Malfoy?' Harry barked.

'What?' Draco moaned quietly, forcing himself to stop looking at Harry, to look at the ground instead.

Harry frowned. He was starting to think there was more then a little truth in the drunken ramblings Draco had come out with the night before. Draco was staring determinedly at the grass, blushing scarlet.

'Look, Malfoy, about last night...' Harry began. Draco looked up, his eyes widening. 'What you said...about...about me...'

'I was drunk,' Draco said sharply, jumping to his feet.

'I kind of noticed that...' Harry replied dryly, a little smirk pulling at the corners of his lips in spite of himself.

'I was drunk, which meant I didn't know what I was saying.'

'And so you let that...that thing slip.'

'That meant nothing, Potter. God, get over yourself,' Draco spat as he started to walk away. Harry grabbed Draco's arm, his anger flaring.

'Listen, Malfoy, I was only trying to help you confront your feelings. If you don't want my help, fine. Carry on pretending that you're some kind of royalty, even though you're just as normal as the rest of us.'

Draco stared at him for a second, then ripped his arm away.

'Thanks,' he said coldly, 'I will.' And with that he stormed off to the castle. Harry shook his head angrily.

*

The dormitory was thankfully empty when Draco ran into it. Fighting back tears, he yanked the hangings around his bed closed and threw himself face down onto the sheets. Only then did he lets the tears come. They streamed from his eyes into his pillow as wave after wave of sadness and embarrassment swept through him. He couldn't believe he had just passed up an opportunity to talk calmly, nicely, with Harry, choosing instead to insult him as usual.

'Harry, if only you knew,' Draco sobbed out loud. 'I so want to tell you, but I can't. What if you turned me down? I couldn't bear it.'

'Harry, what the hell are you doing?' snapped Ron. Harry jerked out of his thoughts and looked at Ron.

'What?'

'You're going towards the Slytherin common room,' Ron said slowly. Harry glanced around and saw that Ron right.

'Guess I wasn't thinking straight,' he shrugged, setting off in the right direction.

'If you ask me, you're thinking too much. You've barely spoken to me of Hermione all day.'

'Sorry.'

'Harry, what's up? You can tell me, you know.'

'Nothing. I just don't really feel like talking much today.' Harry shrugged again and carried on walking. Ron rolled his eyes.

That night, Draco couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, Harry was there, piercing him with those green eyes of his, just beyond Draco's reach...

Draco got up. He had to keep himself awake so that Harry's face wouldn't keep taunting him. So he went for a walk, outside, by the lake.

The night air refreshed him slightly, shaking away some of the remaining pains of the hangover. It wasn't too cold though, and Draco walked slowly along the edge of the water, able to think clearer now, enjoying the soft breeze playing on his face.

Then, without warning, he tripped over something he couldn't see and landed on top of it. It was invisible, but human shaped, and it was yelling in a familiar voice...

'Harry!' Draco squeaked, scrambling off the invisible form. Harry appeared in front of him, the invisibility cloak in his hand.

'You know, Malfoy, it's a lot more subtle if you don't jump on the person you fancy,' Harry said, half amused, half annoyed. Draco didn't reply; too late, he realised he should have denied liking Harry.

'So, I'm guessing this walk isn't just for the hell of it? You're thinking about stuff, trying to sort things out in your head,' Harry commented, looking Draco directly in the eye. Draco was pulled in to those emerald-coloured pools, like metal to a magnet. His pulse quickened, his breath became shallow, and he felt a blur of emotion bubble up inside him, until it was simmering in his throat, waiting for him to open his mouth and let it all flow out from him.

'Harry, you have no idea how hard this is for me,' he blurted out. 'I can't think straight any more. Every time I try to sleep, I'm thinking of you, every time I wake up you're the first thing on my mind, and every little thing has a link to you, somehow or other. It's torture.' Draco bowed his head, hardly able to believe what he had just said.

'Why is it torture?' Harry said softly. The tone of his voice made Draco think for a wild moment that he may have a chance...but no.

'Because I know nothing can come of it, and that's a hard thing that I'm just going to have to get used to,' he sighed.

'Nothing's for sure, Draco,' Harry murmured. Draco looked up shocked.

'You mean...?'

'What? Oh! No...look, Draco, what I meant was, if you really believe in something, one day, it might happen. I didn't mean that I fancy you or anything...no offence.' Harry blushed crimson. Draco let the words sink in for a moment, then looked at Harry again.

'You're really cute when you blush,' he grinned cheekily.