Good Intentions

Chapter 4: Building Bridges

"You're definitely a picky eater," Harry told Draco as they were eating dinner at The Three Broomsticks later on that day. They had both ordered a club sandwich and Draco was in the process of picking off the tomatoes, onions, and bacon.

Draco shrugged, "I don't like bacon or tomatoes, and onions give you bad breath."

"You could have just asked for a plain ham sandwich with pickles," Harry informed him.

Draco shrugged again. "You're the one who doesn't like pickles. I mean honestly, who doesn't like pickles?" He leaned back in his chair and studied Harry. "You're different than..." he trailed off.

"Than what?" Harry asked him.

"Different than I thought you would be."

"Well I'm sorry I don't like pickles," Harry said hiding a smile. He knew full and well that that wasn't what Draco had meant.

Suddenly he said, "Fine then," picked up one of the pickles he had taken off his sandwich earlier, and ate it. "There you go," he said, but his face was scrunched up in disgust. "I ate one."

Draco was shaking with laughter. "What?" Harry asked, feeling somewhat left out and helpless.

"Nothing...nothing at all."

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, getting upset at being laughed at, by Malfoy of all people. "Fine," he said. He reached into his pocket and slammed a galleon down on the table for his meal and said, "We're leaving."

Draco was confused. Things had been going rather well, or at least he thought they were. "Are we?" he said, his temper rising.

"Yes we are," Harry's tone was hardening.

"Well, we have a problem then Potter. You see, I haven't finished this delectable meal yet, so I say we aren't going anywhere."

"Malfoy..." Harry said threateningly. "Don't make a scene here, let's go."

"No."

BAM.

Both were in a heap on the floor, joined for the second time in two days at the hip, their meal scattered over the floor and on themselves. "Oh, this is so embarrassing," Harry muttered into Draco's neck. "Maybe no one noticed."

"Think again," Draco said looking around. The whole pub, wide eyed, were staring in shock at the two boys still on the floor.

"I think we should leave..." Harry said burying his face in Draco's neck, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Draco's eyed widened further. What was Harry doing? "Er yeah. Come on."

They struggled, but both got to their feet, and hurriedly left The Three Broomsticks. Soon, they were separate once again and Harry stomped off ahead as far as he was allowed.

"What is your problem?" Draco asked, hurrying up beside Harry. "I haven't done anything to you."

Harry just glared at him and kept walking. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember just why he was mad. He just hated being laughed at, although for some reason it never bothered him as much before as it did just then. Draco just had a way of getting under his skin, even about the stupidest of things.

They had just made their way to the cellar of Honeydukes, and Harry had reached down to open the concealed door when Draco stopped him.

"We aren't going anywhere until you tell me what is bothering you," Draco said defiantly.

"Nothing."

He tried to open the door again, but Draco stomped it back closed. "Draco, not in here," Harry warned, glancing up at the stairs. There were voices coming from near the top.

"Stop trying to avoid the subject."

"Draco, hurry!" Harry said, trying to wrench open the door again.

"We aren't going anywhere until we talk about this!"

Harry was panicking now, there was someone coming down the stairs and Draco obviously wasn't paying attention. Stupid Malfoy pride. Why oh why was he being so stubborn? He hurriedly pulled out the invisibility cloak, grabbed Draco by the waist, and dragged him over to the back corner. He pinned him there, and threw the cloak over them both just as the store owner came down the steps with his wand alight, searching for the source of noise.

Harry tilted his head up slightly so he could see the expression on Draco's face. That was one of the things that had always annoyed Harry. Draco had always been just a little bit taller than he was, forcing him to look up whenever he looked at the blonde. Harry and Draco's lips were mere centimeters apart.

Draco's heart beat quickened. He studied Harry for a minute, then shifted his gaze back to the owner who was approaching their corner. Harry, turning red, turned his head to the side, looking over his shoulder at the owner who was drawing ever closer.

Finding nothing, the owner left, still looking around the cellar suspiciously. Harry closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. That had been close, both with the owner, and with Draco. Once they were alone again, they listened to his retreating footsteps, making sure he had left. Harry looked up again, looking at Draco for an indication of what to do next.

Then Draco leaned his head back slightly and brought his index finger and placed it on his lips, signaling for quiet. Shivers ran through Harry's body as Draco's cool finger made contact with his own lips. It was the only thing separating the two sets of lips, like a bridge, only, neither dared to cross for their fear of what they might find.

***

As if in some unspoken agreement, neither talked of the argument earlier at dinner. If that was brought up, then that led to... No, Draco told himself. I don't need to think about that. And I have no idea what it meant. Nor do I care. He added thoughtfully.

He just could not go to bed that night. Too many things kept popping into his mind; all he could do was think. He couldn't let himself think though, because thinking led to realization, which led to denial or acceptance. He just couldn't handle either, especially the latter of the two.

Harry still hadn't fallen asleep a long time after Draco's breathing became slow and regular. Draco had somewhat abridged the gap between themselves during his sleep. Harry was just laying there, watching him sleep, and every so often he would mutter something quietly, but Harry could never quite hear what it was.

***

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Draco asked Harry for the fourth time.

"Yes. I've been to Dumbledore's office loads of times. We're almost there. Just trust me," Harry smiled crookedly at him.

"Here we are," Harry said as they approached the stone gargoyle. "Er, the letter didn't tell us the password did it?"

Draco pulled the rolled up letter they had received early that morning out of his pocket and scanned it. That letter was what had woken them both up with its insistent pecking on the window. Draco had awkwardly untangled himself from Harry and after finding themselves in the same position as the night before, retrieved his wand from the bedside table, then opened the window. The owl had brought a letter from Dumbledore asking them to be in his office at 10:30.

"Nope, nothing." Draco said, replacing the letter in his pocket.

"Err, right. We'll just have to guess then."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Guess? There's no way in hell you're going to be able to guess the password."

Harry suppressed a smile. "How much do you want to bet?"

"You're set on this?" Harry nodded. "Alright then, I'll give you five guesses. If you guess right, then I'll owe you some type of favor. If I win, then you owe me something. Deal?"

"Deal," Harry said as he shook Draco's outstretched hand firmly. "Ok now, let's see. Fizzing Whizbee."

"One down."

"Pumpkin Pasty."

"That's two," Draco said gleefully.

"Chocolate Frog," Harry tried again.

"That's three. Two more," Draco was having way too much fun with this. "I'll have you know, Harry, that I'm breaking guidelines here. Malfoy's do not make bets, but this was too easy to pass up."

"Cauldron Cake. Damn, that wouldn't be it."

"Last one," Draco said in a sing song voice. He was just itching to get smacked.

Then Harry's eyes lit up. It had to be.. only Dumbledore would .. "Bittersweet." The gargoyle jumped aside.

"What the?" Draco said in disbelief. "But that's our password. How did yo--?"

Harry just shrugged. He turned around and faced Draco. "I win," he beamed.

***

Harry knocked hesitantly on the door outside Dumbledore's office. "Come in," Dumbledore called as the door swung open. "Have a seat."

They sat down uneasily, unsure of what to expect. Dumbledore studied them for a long while, and both boys shifted uncomfortably at that penetrating blue stare.

"Well boys, I'm a bit surprised at the two of you."

Harry and Draco exchanged a quick glance, both thinking the same thing. Did he know about last night?

"At what?" Draco asked, a small sneer forming on his face. Oh no, Harry groaned. In front of others, he's still the old Malfoy. Damn, this is not good.

"Well, I'm quite surprised by the fact that neither of you have once complained about the fact that in this state, you are both unable to play Quidditch, let alone fly."

"Quidditch! I haven't even thought about that. Please professor, you have to let me play." Harry paused to take a breath, but Dumbledore cut him off.

"This is why I have asked you to meet me here this morning. I assume you both still want to play Quidditch?"

Harry nodded vigorously. Draco however said, "You know what happens when you assume things, don't you?" He was sitting higher in his chair now, looking more confident.

To Harry's horror, Dumbledore chuckled. Harry would never have said anything like that to Dumbledore. He, however, seemed only amused by this. He continued on, "I should choose my words more wisely. I stand corrected." His eyes were twinkling brighter than ever. Harry just gaped like a fish out of water, looking back and forth between the two.

Then Draco elbowed him in the side, smirking. "Stop looking like an idiot and close your mouth," Harry promptly snapped his mouth shut.

"Let me rephrase what I said. Are the two of you still interested in playing Quidditch for your house teams?" Dumbledore still looked as unruffled as ever.

"Definitely," Harry automatically agreed.

"Of course," Draco said coolly. "Better said, if I do say so myself, Headmaster."

"Thank you Draco. Now, Professor Snape and I thought it would be unfair to prevent the two of you from playing Quidditch. I know we said no exceptions, but Quidditch is a very rare case. Here is what we have decided to do..."

Harry was processing what Dumbledore was telling them, while his mind was on other things. They were allowed to attend one practice a week, for two hours. Right before their practice they were to meet Snape where he would disband the charm for the duration of two hours. Once that time was up, their usual situation was back in order.

"Now, I would advise that the two of you be rather close when this happens. I myself have never experienced it, but it can't be a pleasant feeling. I know this is getting a bit complicated, but in time it will all work out for the best boys, believe me," He clasped his hands together. "That's all. Any questions or problems?"

"Now that you mention it, there are many," Draco said airily. "I don't believe your explanation was very adequate. I detected several flaws in your plan." He straightened up in his chair again.

"Starting with.."

***