Butterflies

Butterflies.

Draco Malfoy had butterflies in his stomach. (Not of course real ones, even though that had happened too; back in the seventies something with larva and a potion gone wrong, and a poor Hufflepuff had ended up burping yellow butterflies for a week.)

But Draco Malfoy would probably rather have had the real ones, instead of this fluttery feeling caused by Merlin knew what curse.

Because Malfoys do NOT have butterflies in their stomachs. Just like Malfoys do NOT have romantic feelings, do NOT get all mushy and star eyed, and do NOT find themselves staring at nothing, daydreaming.

A Malfoy CAN feel lust or want or desire, and if they do, they simply take what it is they want, and be done with it. As simple as that.

But to have butterflies in your stomach only meant one thing; you were cursed or hexed.

This one was obviously not a very good or strong curse, as all it did was give him this strange and fluttering feeling in his gut, but all the same it was damn annoying, because he tended to loose focus whenever this happened. And a Malfoy does NOT loose focus.

He tried to figure out who'd done this to him by mapping out exactly when and where it happened, but he couldn't find any pattern at all. It would happen in class, during lunch, in the corridors, in the library, on the Quidditchpitch. The only time his stomach didn't seem to fill up with winged insects was in fact in his own room and the common room, but this he thought was only because of the impenetrable security spells Slytherin had in the dungeons. Who dared do this to him, a Malfoy!? Draco raged silently, but was interrupted by a flock of butterflies that smothered his righteous anger.

So, after much thought, he decided to live with it until he could figure out who the caster of the hex was. It wasn't that bad after all, just a weird feeling now and then, he was sure he could control it.

But that turned out to be harder than he thought. Because after awhile, the curse seemed to grow stronger, making it harder and harder for Draco to function as normal. Or as a Malfoy. The fluttering in his gut was soon accompanied by weak knees, sweaty palms, and burning cheeks, as the world seemed to fade away, get a little pink and fluffy at the edges, and quivering violin music filled the room. It was most disturbing.

Not seldom was he jerked out of his reveries by a hollering professor, and he more than once bumped in to people in the corridors not looking where he went. During meals he dreamily stared at...whatever, while picking at his food.

And the more he tried to fight it, the worse it got. He HAD to find who the villain was, before someone sent a letter to his father, telling him his son was acting...well, strange.

The Slytherins were greatly suspicious, seeing the mind-boggling change in Draco from the dungeons - where he was still able to be the supreme leader with his cold eyes and sarcastic sneer, or if the situation needed it; the charming, well-mannered gentleman - to the rest of the school, where he acted - according to them - like a fumbling schoolboy with a HUGE crush. But of course they didn't tell him this, he was, after all, their supreme leader.

When his grades started to drop and there was no doubt that that the rest of the student body also noted the change, Draco decided it was time to take action again. He couldn't bloody well have Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors sniggering behind his back, first-and second-years even! He was to be feared, goddamnit!

So Draco steeled himself and started to really take notice who was around when "it" happened, because it seemed to be a proximity spell of some sort. (Yes he had heard the rumours about him being in love, but that was just ridiculous, he was a Malfoy! And Malfoys do NOT fall in love. And even if that highly unlikely scenario were to take place, wouldn't he know then, who the lucky girl was? Wouldn't he then dreamily be staring at her? Huh?)

After one week of intense investigation, he was down to five possible suspects. A mere fluke had eliminated most of the school's population as he close to curfew hurried back to his dorm. Suddenly it hit him, right in the stomach, a fluttery warmth spreading throughout his entire body, weakening his knees, muddling his brain and vision, making the corners of his mouth curl upwards - very un-Malfoylike - in a silly smile. But he fought hard, and managed to notice the few people around him. Rushing the other way, was the Trio, Hogwarts own Boy Hero and his two sidekicks, the mudblood and the weasel. And then there was Filch, and his vicious cat, probably out to pound on any students who didn't make it back to their rooms on time. As Draco fought to stay focused, he saw Potter give him an unreadable look, but he was too preoccupied to dwell on it, and everybody seemed to give him odd looks these days anyways.

Back in his bed, somewhat restored to his usual self, Draco started to think. He didn't want to corner them (oh, yes he was positive about who it was now, of course it was the Trio, should've been obvious from the start really.) without evidence and proof of their guilt, so what he needed to do was...find out what kind of curse it was, of course. This was also something that maybe he should have thought about earlier, but then again, this needed the aid of a professor, and he was not very keen to ask for help, not even now.

But it could not be helped. Better to ask a professor than his father, who, thinking about him, gave Draco a completely different set of feelings in his stomach. Not good ones. Not that these other feelings were in any way GOOD, oh no, nothing of the kind. Just...not so horrible.

The next morning Draco Malfoy found himself outside the hospital wing before breakfast. After much thought he had decided that Madam Pomfrey would be his best chance, it would look less conspicuous if he asked her than, say Snape. And when you were feeling ill (because that's how he was feeling), this was where you went. So Draco forced himself through the door and when he emerged again 15 minutes later, he was in a state worse than ever, and in a daze he made it to breakfast. He was certainly stared at more than ever, but this time he didn't notice anything - except for Madam Pomfrey's words that were mercilessly echoing in his head. There is no spell or hex. Or curse for that matter. Completely healthy.

But it could not be true! There had to be a curse, why else would he be acting like this? A Malfoy is always in control, he told himself over and over again, as he felt the panic rise. Always in control.

The rest of that day Draco could not help but listen to the gossip going around the school, without letting anyone notice his interest of course. (Yes, you all guessed it; A Malfoy is NOT interested in gossip, nor does he partake in it, unless it is highly beneficial for himself.) It seemed like he was not the only one with a problem; Potter's name was as frequent as his own, as were the words secret crush, in love, snogging and totally oblivious. It was highly disturbing to hear his own name in the same sentence as any of those words, but he assumed he missed most of the conversations, due to his efforts of not being interested, thus ending up with that random string of words. Disturbing all the same.

Forgetting Potter, Draco pondered his own problem as calmly as possibly. He was not cursed, hexed or spelled. He none the less had all the symptoms of what other people called being in love. OK, so he was in love. (But...a Malfoy does NOT fall in LOVE!)

Draco Malfoy WAS in love. With Filch. Or possibly his cat. Reasoning logically, Draco had come to this conclusion, and was fairly satisfied. At least now he knew. A bit surprising that the object of his affection should be so revolting - and a man, or cat...ew... - he was still glad that the mystery was solved. Now he could simply have Filch and his cat fired and be done with the whole thing.

Draco's ingenious plan was painfully wrecked the next day, when "it" happened again, with Filch, or his cat, nowhere near. As only the unbearable Trio were present, it was all too clear to Draco. He was now facing the prospect of denying his father and refusing his name, or transferring immediately to Durmstrang.

Because Draco Malfoy was obviously in love with Granger, a Mudblood! That was the only answer, painful as it might be. Draco was now - although he would never admit it - quite at a loss as to what to do, and not a little bit disappointed at not feeling....more, at this revelation. Thinking of her made him feel nothing more than what the sight of her usually did; contempt and slight nausea. So totally different from what he felt when hit by "it". Weird.

That night Draco Malfoy had some very pleasant dreams, not including Hermione Granger, but he remembered only fragments of them on waking up.

At breakfast the next morning, Harry Potter sat picking at his meal, eyes distant and dreamy. When the hall was close to empty, he snapped back into reality, took a deep breath and stood up. As he walked across the hall, he felt a fluttery feeling in his gut, his knees seemed to be made of Jell-O and his palms were sweaty. He also thought he heard some faint violin music coming from somewhere. As he reached the Slytherin table, his cheeks were burning and his mouth was completely dry, and he stammered as he greeted the blond boy who was almost as flushed as himself.

Draco suddenly remembered his dream, quite vividly, and his flush grew deeper as he locked eyes with the boy standing opposite him. And suddenly the spell was broken, (Yes, he knew it! There HAD been a spell!) and Draco knew who he had been making eyes at whenever he could for the last weeks. About whom he had been daydreaming in class. Who made his stomach fill up with winged insects and his knees weak. The very same Harry Potter who now made him forget all their previous hostilities, just by standing there, stammering out his hullo.

The two boys left the hall together, glancing shyly at one another. Their hands brushed together, and a similar smile appeared on both boys' faces.

Draco Malfoy has butterflies in his stomach. This is because he is in love.

Draco Malfoy is in love with Harry Potter.

But as Malfoys do NOT fall - or stay - in love, Draco tells himself it is only lust and desire. Thus he can simply take what he desires - which he does. And be done with it. Which he is not, and never will be.