Now I Know What Love Is

Now I Know What Love Is, Chapter 3-Star and Spell

Deep in the Slytherin dungeons, Draco was passing the night in wakefulness. The sheets and bed covers were knotted and twisted around him, testimony to his failed attempts to sleep. He had succeeded only in tossing and turning so much he had made himself hot. He was currently lying on his back with his hands behind his head, staring into the darkness above him, wearing only a pair of black drawstring pajama pants.

Draco, of course, was absolutely NOT thinking about Harry Potter. He was not thinking about Harry's soft black hair, his tall lanky body or the way his pale skin might potentially taste. Draco was not thinking about these things at all. And the effort of not thinking about them was killing him.

He sighed and rolled over in bed once again. He obviously wasn't going to get any sleep, so he reached for his wand and whispered "Lumos". He opened the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a small box, cobalt blue with a golden sun worked into the top. He opened it. Ten small globes of various sizes and colours were nestled inside. The box was lined with dark blue silk, scattered with what appeared to be luminous glitter. He pointed his wand at the contents of the box and murmured "Positus". The spheres floated out the box and formed a perfect scale model of the planets. The glitter floated around the planets, becoming constellations and star systems. They hung there, each with its own special glow, moving almost imperceptibly as they imitated the rotation of the planets in Earth's solar system.

Draco lay back, one hand behind his head and one on his bare stomach, staring at the planets. The beautifully made scale model was one of his favorite toys. Truth be told, Astronomy was his favorite subject, not Potions. Professor Sinstra treated him like a human being and not a carbon copy of his father, unlike many of his other professors.

He whispered "April 8th, 1980 C.E." and watched the planets align themselves as they had been on the night of his birth. His mother, who was as superstitious as a Muggle when it came to prophets and seers, had been told by a rather flaky astrologer that his birth date foretold the birth of one of great power and significance. Well, of course, what else was she supposed to tell a Malfoy?

Draco gave up on not thinking about Harry. He whispered, very softly, "July 31 1980 C.E." and watched the planets realign themselves to Harry's birth date. He pulled his hand from behind his head and buried it in his already messy blonde hair, wishing he wasn't longing for Harry so much. Gods knew he'd been trying to avoid the Harry issue for years. Torture Harry in public and refuse under any circumstances to be alone with him, way to suppress your feelings, Draco. And everyone thought he avoided Harry because he couldn't handle him and his poorly chosen group of friends without Crabbe and Goyle. Well, in a way that was true. Look what had happened when he had managed to be alone with Harry today.

He sighed again. The minute he met Harry, he knew his life had changed. Being so young, he hadn't realized then what was going on. He only thought that finally here was someone he might choose for a friend, someone like him, equal to him. It was only later, seething alone in his dorm about Harry's public refusal of his friendship, that he realized the truth. He wanted Harry. He went to sleep that night with fantasies of kissing Harry on his mind and woke up in the morning knowing he could never have him. So he contented himself with making contact with Harry the only way a Slytherin could. He annoyed Harry at every turn. Well, he'd certainly made Harry aware of his presence. Harry hated him.

Draco had been worried all summer. He was sure that when the time came to return to Hogwarts, either he or Harry would have been sent to the ends of the Earth, and he'd never see Harry again. Tonight wasn't the first night he'd been unable to sleep. He had left his compartment on the train today at the first opportunity, hoping against hope to find Harry somewhere. His relief at finally coming upon Harry was so great he couldn't help but find an excuse to get close to him, breathe the air that Harry breathed. He hadn't even cared at the time what Harry was hiding behind his back.

Draco raised his wand again and spoke. "Devexus." He watched the planets and stars settle themselves into their places in the box once more. The relief of finally being honest with himself about his feelings for Harry had relaxed him so much he thought he might actually be able to sleep. He murmured "Nox" and put his wand aside, turning over and wrapping his arms around one of the many extra pillows on the bed. The sound of Crabbe snoring like a dragon was almost soothing now, like white noise, and he fell asleep nearly instantly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry looked for Draco as soon as he and his friends entered the Great Hall the next morning, but he was nowhere in sight. Head turned toward the Slytherin table, he almost walked into Ron's back. Ron was stopped short, staring at the head table.

"Look, Harry, she's not there. Think she's gone already?" he said.

"Maybe he's sleeping in today," Harry replied.

"He?" said Ron. "Who are you talking about? I meant Professor Figg."

Ron was right. Professor Figg was nowhere to be seen.

"She's probably gone back to her cats," Harry said. He privately hoped it was true. He didn't want to confront Arabella Figg about why she was at Hogwarts. As Hagrid had said last year, everything happened to him, and he was tired of it. He wanted to be left alone.

"We don't have Defense Against the Dark Arts until tomorrow," Hermione said, clearly disappointed. "Are you sure you don't want to go straight to Professor Figg?" she said. "It may be dangerous to wait. You don't know what's going on, Harry."

"No, I'll speak to her after class tomorrow," said Harry stubbornly. He fully intended to avoid the whole Figg problem for as long as he could, but he knew how persistent Hermione could be.

"Well, talk to Professor Dumbledore, then," she countered. "What if he doesn't realize...?"

"No," said Harry, rather sharply. "I'll speak to her tomorrow, Hermione." Harry then turned to his breakfast, hoping Hermione would drop the subject. She, to her credit, began on her own eggs and bacon and left him alone for the time being. Ron started a conversation about the upcoming Quidditch match with Hufflepuff in an attempt to change the subject, and everyone's attention turned to other matters.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Transliteration," said Professor McGonagall, "is an extremely advanced and potentially dangerous form of Transfiguration magic. I expect you all to pay VERY close attention to the formulae and especially to the cautionary warnings associated with this type of magic."

Harry was attempting to pay attention as closely as possible, but he was lost. Transliteration, as explained by Professor McGonagall, involved creating a physical representation of an object from a written description. You had to Transfigure the words themselves into an image of the actual thing they represented. Transfiguration wasn't Harry's best subject anyway, and it all sounded quite dodgy to him.

Hermione, seated next to Harry, was copying diagrams and symbols at the speed of light and looking extremely self-satisfied. No doubt she had memorized the theory over the summer and was itching to try it out. Harry privately suspected Hermione sometimes of finding a way around the prohibitions against magic performed by underage wizards. Nobody could possibly perform EVERY single spell, potion and charm perfectly the first time.

Harry decided to give up on Transliteration and get Hermione to explain it to him later. Daydreaming, he glanced out the window of the Transfiguration classroom. A group of Slytherins was passing by on their way to Herbology. Draco came into sight, talking animatedly to Goyle and Blaise Zabini. They both laughed at something Draco said and Harry felt a pang of jealousy. Draco then turned and smiled at Crabbe, one of the few genuine smiles Harry had ever seen on Draco's face. His pang of jealousy became a fire-breathing dragon of envy, complete with claws and teeth.

Draco's glance passed beyond Crabbe and fell upon Harry. His smile faded a little, and the strangest look came over his face. Energy crackled between them, almost palpable in its intensity. Harry's heart gave a great lurch and then seemed to stop beating altogether. Eyes locked, he and Draco stared at each other until Draco was out of sight.

Hermione had noticed Harry's inattention and was preparing to elbow him, when she noticed the looks he and Draco were giving each other. They were far from the usual looks of animosity and loathing Harry and Draco reserved for each other. Hmmm, thought Hermione, what was that about? She mentally shrugged and decided she would get to the bottom of the matter later.

Harry finally turned his attention back to Professor McGonagall. Thankfully, she was drawing diagrams on the blackboard and hadn't noticed his inattention. Harry had lost whatever thin thread of understanding he had regarding Transliteration. He slumped in his seat, hoping McGonagall wouldn't decide to call on him in the last ten minutes of class.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco, in Herbology, was grateful that the task they were performing today was simple. He was still shaken after his latest experience with Harry. Draco tried to clear his mind and return to helping Blaise harvest Blood Flowers, so named because of their deep red colour and the way they seemed to drip off their stems. He hoped desperately that no one had noticed that little exchange. The last thing he needed was for his Slytherin friends to discover that Harry Potter was anything but his worst enemy. They'd make his life unbearable, not to mention the fact that any one of them would take great pleasure in telling his father. Not that Draco wouldn't have been happy to torture any of his acquaintances if the situation were reversed.

This can't go on much longer, thought Draco. He knew he would be seeing Harry in Potions later on and he resolved to find a way to talk to him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snape droned on endlessly during Potions in his customary Gothic monotone. They weren't doing any practical assignments today and the air in the classroom was one of boredom instead of the usual atmosphere of anxiety. Even Longbottom looked fairly relaxed, Draco noted, although he appeared to be trying to hide behind Millicent Bulstrode, perhaps in case Snape noticed his presence and took ten points from Gryffindor for breathing. Draco had nearly gone over to sit close to Harry at the beginning of class. He was brought back to his senses by Pansy, who grabbed his sleeve when he passed and forced him to sit beside her. The only good thing about that particular seating arrangement was that it afforded him an unobstructed view of Harry.

He watched Harry's robes tighten across his shoulders when he leaned over to pick up a dropped quill. He watched Harry's long graceful fingers rub the back of his neck. Draco licked his lips and wondered how he was going to be able to stand an entire year of Potions with Harry. Teenagers were notoriously horny; surely someone somewhere had invented a Libido Potion. His luck, it would make matters worse and he'd be sneaking into Harry's dorm begging for a snog. Oh well.

Class was drawing to a close and Draco made a hasty decision. He tore off a piece of parchment and scribbled something on it. He then grabbed his books and hurried up to the front of the room before Harry could rise to leave.

Harry was startled by a loud thump as Draco knocked his Transfiguration textbook to the floor in passing. Draco picked it up and handed it back to him, smirking at Harry for the sake of the people left in the classroom. "Take it, Potter," he said. "Wouldn't want you to lose something that important, would we? You've got no one to owl for another, do you?"

Draco turned and left. Harry, shocked by Draco's strange behavior, wondered if he wasn't the only one who appeared to be losing his mind. "Clumsy git," said Ron. "What the hell is wrong with him today?"

"I dunno," said Harry, shrugging his shoulders. Privately he wondered what was wrong with the both of them, himself and Draco.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------