Not Quite a Love Song, in Ten Scenes

Part 1: The Corridor (or: Have I Told You Lately...)

"You're going to stand with us against Voldemort!"

"Huh?"

Draco Malfoy lifted bleary eyes to the figure standing before him in the corridor. The smell of bacon and eggs and freshly-baked rolls wafted enticingly from the open doorway to the Great Hall.

He was not happy to be waylaid by the Boy-Who-Should-Have-Died-Instead-Of-Keeping-People-From-Their-Breakfast. Surely no one could keep up such a heroic pose this early in the morning without some heavy Dark Arts dabbling.

Potter's two goons were lurking around in the background, just out of earshot, the Weasel with his trademark glare, the Mudblood sporting a severe frown. As always, they vividly reminded Draco of Cornelius Fudge's Dementor guard, prepared to float up and suck on anyone who dared to apprehend their darling. Although he had to admit that despite Potter's countless faults - and Draco could deliver all-evening rants detailing the specifics - he was prettier than the Minister of Magic. Which wasn't saying much, really.

"I said, 'You're going to stand with us against Voldemort!'" the Prat Who Annoyed repeated with an irritating air of conviction.

"I'll what?" Draco blinked again. Perhaps he was having audio-visual hallucinations? There had been quite a few Greenhouse Seven plants in the punch bowl at the Slytherin revel last night, after all. "At seven in the morning?"

He snapped his fingers in front of Potter's nose. The Gryffindork refused to pop into thin air. He just stared into Draco's eyes, as passionately as Mrs Norris would focus on a carton of milk.

"Look, Malfoy - Draco - it's all right," Potter continued, and Draco was sorely tempted so choke that generous tone of voice back into the git's throat with his wand. "I've seen how you've been looking at me ever since school started."

"With utmost loathing?" asked Draco.

"Don't disparage it!" Potter replied forcefully. "There's nothing wrong with your feelings. Don't hate yourself for being attracted to me."

"Attracted?" Draco sputtered.

"I've had a long time to think about it," Potter said, "and I'm truly sorry for rejecting you on the train. It was cruel, and I want to make up for it."

"On the train?" Draco's brows furrowed.

"Before the start of our first year," Potter clarified.

"I saw you on the train then? Can't say I remember - you must have been even more boring back then," Draco answered, brows furrowing even further. "And don't drift off topic. I'm still not over the bit where I was supposed to be attracted to you."

"Well," Potter gestured wildly, "it's obvious! I've seen the way you looked at me during our OWLs! You were so absorbed you went right ahead and failed Charms. We can see this through, Draco. I'm prepared to stand up to my House if necessary, and if we're together not even your cruel father or Voldemort can force us apart."

The Boy Who Harassed put a slender hand on Draco's arm and gazed into his eyes deeply. He looked like nothing so much as a fluffy puppy, and Draco wanted nothing so much as to strangle him.

See, that's what happens when you think you can brave Hogwarts's halls without bodyguards! his inner Malfoy admonished.

The blossoming romance between his two best goons was an annoyance at the best of times, and he bitterly regretted now having gone off alone to give them some privacy. But how could he have expected to be molested, before breakfast and by Potter, of all creatures? He pointedly removed his arm.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Potter, but I'm definitely not in love with you. Hell, I'd rather shag a Manticore. An utterly pissed-off Manticore."

"Draco, don't you know it's unhealthy to suppress your desires? We can deal with this. You're just in denial."

"I'm not in denial!" Draco screeched and stormed off, leaving Potter to stand in the corridor, pity written all over his face.

~ tbc. ~

Next: Potions (or: Anything for Love)