- Rating:
- PG-13
- House:
- Astronomy Tower
- Characters:
- Draco Malfoy
- Genres:
- Angst Romance
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Stats:
-
Published: 07/04/2002Updated: 07/12/2003Words: 34,213Chapters: 16Hits: 10,258
Perfect Potter
Muse
- Story Summary:
- Draco is hopelessly lost between what he is supposed to do, and what he wants to do. As the pressure from his father to follow in Lucius' footsteps grows heavier, and Draco's feelings for Harry grow stronger, Draco finds himself at a fork in the road.
Chapter 17
- Chapter Summary:
- Everyone deserves to be loved, even Draco Malfoy. But can he choose between what is right and what is expected of him?
- Posted:
- 07/12/2003
- Hits:
- 409
- Author's Note:
- Thank you so much for all the reviews. They are greatly appreciated. If you need to contact me, my AIM is chaoticmunkee. Thanks!
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“You sit there in the shadows
and you call it your release
Don’t be the one with bad eyes for
The things that I could see… ”
--PJ Olsson “Ready For a Fall”
Dumbledore had Draco recount every Death Eater meeting he had ever been to, and list as many people as he could that he was sure were in Voldemort’s inner circle. Because Christmas was drawing nearer, Dumbledore called Harry, Weasel, Granger, and Draco into his office and told them that the next meeting would be after Christmas Break.
McGonagall announced at one early December breakfast that the Yule Ball would fall on the day before Christmas holiday started, allowing the students to go home to their families. There was much relieved cheering from people who were willing to skip the Yule Ball in favor of getting away from the castle and all their work.
After the announcement, Pansy bounded up to Draco and grabbed his hands. “Oh, Draco, will you go to the Ball with me?” Draco glanced back at Harry, Weasel, and Granger, as Harry tried to fend off some girls who were already vying for his attention. Something tugged at his heart, but he looked away and back at Pansy.
“Yeah, sure. Like I had a choice,” he mumbled, but Pansy only heard, or only chose to hear, the “yeah, sure.” She squealed and kissed Draco. It shocked him so much he only stood there as she pressed her mousy little face on his. Some people stopped to laugh and jeer, and when she had pulled away and ran to catch her friends, Draco could feel people watching him for signs of disgust.
It took all his self-control not to wipe his mouth, but when he saw Harry looking at him with a pained expression, it almost made him want to throw up.
When the list for who was going to stay over Christmas break came around, it was no surprise to see that there were barely any names. But Draco noted that while Harry’s name was among some Slytherins and a couple Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, it was accompanied by Weasel and Granger’s. The possibilities of whole weeks of just Potter and he were almost too delightful to think about too much.
Draco also noticed, with a small sneer, that, while Pansy was going home to her cave, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle were staying behind. Someone really needed to hand those three a few personalities of their own.
On the night of the Yule Ball, Blaise Zabini found Draco lying on his stomach, reading a book. Blaise’s hair was already slicked back and he was in his dress robes, prepared to go meet Ardiana Levy, a sixth year that had asked him.
“What are you doing?” Blaise asked, staring at Draco. Draco glanced up and closed his book.
“It’s time to go already?” he moaned, before sliding off the bed and rummaging through his trunk for his dress robes. Blaise watched in shock as Draco simply pulled off his school robes, and pulled on the velvet black robes and adjusted the collar and straightened the places where it had been crumpled. He pulled out some hair stuff and did his hair in his normal fashion.
All the time Blaise was giving him a disbelieving look. “How on earth do you do that?”
“Do what?” Draco said, licking his finger to straighten one piece of hair that wouldn’t stay back.
“Roll out of bed, and take five minutes to look perfect?”
“It’s a gift.” The two boys went downstairs, where their dates were waiting. Draco had to give Pansy credit; she cleaned up nice. She was almost pretty, but as they linked arms, Draco wished it was Harry on his arm.
Ghosts lined the corridors, singing bright Christmas carols, and Pansy leaned against Draco. “Isn’t Christmas just wonderful?”
“I suppose,” Draco said, leading the way to the Great Hall. They were a couple minutes early, but the band was already prepared to play, and almost everyone who would be attending the Ball had arrived and were milling around. Pansy saw some of her own friends, and after kissing Draco on the cheek, she raced over to them so they could giggle and squeal over their dates.
Draco, now alone and thinking he’d rather fling himself from the North Tower than go through with another Yule Ball, searched and found a nice table in the back. He hoped he could blend in with the wall and prayed that Pansy would get lost looking for him, so he could just sit for the whole Ball.
From his vantage point, Draco could watch all the couples, and some wallflowers, enter. Finally he saw Harry, with Weasel and Granger, enter. Weasel, of course, had his arm around Granger’s waist, but Harry seemed to be by himself, laughing with his friends over something.
The band, Magik Voyd, whose lead singer was rumored to be McGonagall’s nephew, struck a lively, popular tune, and the dance floor slowly filled with the more extrovert students of Hogwarts. Pansy came hurtling out of no where to grab Draco’s wrist and yank him onto the floor, where she began to dance. For a moment Draco was worried she was having spasms, but then realized that she thought she was dancing. “Oh, dear gods,” Draco moaned as she urged him to dance.
He moved as little as possible, and the moment the last chord died, he dragged her off stage and back to their lonesome table. “Sit,” he commanded her, and she obliged. “I’m going to get us some…punch…” and he made his way to the refreshments table, where he had seen Harry heading with Granger and Weasel.
“Two punches,” he asked the elf behind the table.
“I’ll punch you!” an annoyingly familiar voice chimed gleefully behind him. Draco turned to face Weasel.
“Wow, that was a good one. I bet you were up all night trying to think of that piece of clever wit. Either that or Granger whispered it in your ear. Heaven knows you couldn’t think of it on your own.”
Weasel bit back whatever remark he had on the tip of his tongue and led Granger away. Because everyone around them was watching Draco and Harry, they played out the scene as if they didn’t plan on finding each other later tonight.
“Aw, is Potter all lonely?”
“Being without a little mouse hanging off my arm makes it easier to dance with more than one person,” Harry replied coolly.
“I sincerely doubt there is anyone in this room who wants to dance with you,” Draco quipped, hoping Harry caught the irony.
He did and returned it with, “Funny, I was about to say the same thing.”
Sneering, Draco shoved by Harry and intentionally quickened his pace so he could walk between Granger and Weasel, forcing them to break their handhold.
Pansy accepted her drink and blushed as she explained that an older Slytherin had asked her to dance and she was hoping Draco didn’t mind if she danced with him. Draco smiled, trying to hide his glee as indifference as he told her he didn’t mind at all, since he was never much of a dancer himself. Kissing him on the cheek, Pansy skipped off to find her knight in shining armor, and Draco sat at the table, grateful to whoever had taken Pansy on.
The music pounded in his ears and he watched as Cho Chang, the girl who had been dating Cedric Diggory, asked Harry to dance. Draco felt insanity seeping into his skin and taking over his head. He wanted to rip of his clothes and run naked around the Great Hall, but instead contented himself with downing his drink and slipping away to the bathroom.
He stared at himself in the mirror, prodding his cheeks and touching his nose, imagining imperfections.
“Stop critiquing yourself. You’re perfect,” Harry said from the entrance of the bathroom where he was leaning.
“Harry?” Draco murmured his voice heavy with tears. Immediately, Harry strode across the bathroom and came behind Draco, wrapping his arms around Draco’s stomach and resting his head on his shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever feel worthless?” Draco asked, resting a finger on his forehead. “Ever just feel completely inadequate?”
“Sometimes,” Harry whispered.
“I feel it all the time,” Draco said, sighing and dropping his finger.
“You’re not inadequate,” Harry said softly, rocking Draco back and forth. “You’re more than enough.”
Sounds of Magik Voyd playing a slow song drifted into the bathroom, and Harry turned Draco around and placed his hands on his hips.
“Dance with me,” he whispered in Draco’s ear, and they danced.
As soon as the song ended, Harry left Draco, kissing him softly and promising to see him later that night. Draco nodded and returned to the dance, where he danced with some girls who got up the nerve to ask him. He could feel Pansy shooting daggers at him from where she sat with her new boy toy.
The next day, Draco awoke to an almost empty castle. Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle had already gone downstairs for breakfast, so Draco dressed and got ready in silence. Because there were few students staying behind for Christmas break, there was only one table in the middle of the Great Hall, where all the teachers and remaining students sat.
Draco noted with slight amusement that even though there was only one table, the students had sectioned off into houses. They had obviously been urged to sit close to the teachers, but there were one seat gaps between students of different houses.
So Draco, never one to conform, sat in the space between Blaise and a Ravenclaw, who looked affronted at the violation of the unwritten laws of seating. People were so occupied with who he had sat next to, they didn’t even notice who he had sat across from.
Draco felt Harry’s foot touch his, and he glanced over his goblet of pumpkin juice to Harry, who was deep in conversation with a second year Gryffindor about Quidditch. But the foot came again, this time moving up Draco’s leg.
So ensued a dangerously playful game of footsie, with both boys trying desperately not to laugh out loud and the cheesiness of their actions. After breakfast was finished, Harry politely excused himself, and after a respectable interval, Draco followed.
Almost immediately he was waylaid after exiting the hall. Harry grabbed his arm and swung him against the wall in the shadows. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered before kissing Draco.
“Hey,” Draco protested, playfully pushing Harry away, “it’s not Christmas yet. Are you getting me a present?”
“Are you joking?” Harry said sarcastically, “I am your present. You have to be pretty bloody lucky to get me as a present.”
“I love it when you curse.”
“I love it when you’re quiet.” Draco couldn’t decide if it was more exciting to kiss Harry, or if the real excitement was how they could be discovered at any moment.
“I’ve got an idea,” he whispered, and seized Harry’s wrist and together they sneaked down to the dungeons, where Draco stealthily checked for other Slytherins before leading Harry to his room. As he closed the door, he whispered, “Blaise is a bloody moron, he’ll look all over the castle before thinking of looking for me here.”
They sat on his bed talking about Christmas and what it was like at their houses, but Harry soon began to rummage through Draco’s trunk. He tossed Draco an unopened box of Bertie Bott’s Beans, and continued picking through the mess. Eventually he unearthed an ornately decorated box, and sat on the floor as he opened it.
“Wow,” he breathed, pulling out a beautiful, frosted white glass chess piece, “nice chess set.” Rubbing his forehead, Draco pelted him with a bean.
“My dad wanted me to learn,” he said, then paused as Harry threw the bean back and climbed onto the bed with the box, “but he never taught me.”
“I’ll teach you!” Harry exclaimed, clearing off the bed and setting up the board. Draco sighed and tried to kiss Harry again, but Harry just laughed and pushed him back. “You know, just because my lips aren’t occupied with stupid things like breathing and talking, doesn’t mean its an opportunity for you to kiss me.”
“Liar,” Draco hissed, but he settled back and grinned. “So, learn me.”
Picking up a smaller piece, Harry said, “This is a pawn. They are really sort of worthless, the pieces that you sacrifice first as you try to advance. They can only move one space forward, except when capturing, when they can move one place diagonally.”
And on and on it went, Harry’s fingers traveling over the pieces and explaining each one. Harry’s voice smoothed over Draco like an opiate, calming him. Half the time he didn’t even glance at the board, only gazed at Harry. He watched the way Harry pursed his lips and touched his tongue to his teeth when he was thinking; the way his hair was messy and charming and how Harry was constantly trying to flatten it. His glasses would slip down his nose whenever he dropped his head, and Harry would laugh softly as he pushed them back up.
As he moved on to the finer points of the game, Draco grew frustrated and finally hooked his finger under Harry’s Gryffindor tie and pulled his face to his. “Come here,” he growled. Harry obliged, and as pieces of the chess set pinged off the floor, Draco flipped Harry onto his back and they fell back into the covers, kissing silently. Draco raised one hand to close the curtains, but otherwise, they were completely absorbed in each other.
The kiss was deep and long, and Draco rested his hands on either side of Harry’s head. It was unclear how long the kiss lasted, but they both froze and Draco could feel his heart pounding wildly…
As the dormitory door opened.
“Draco?” Blaise’s voice floated through the curtains. Harry pulled out of kiss, and began to mutter, ‘oh, my god…”
“Hold on,” Draco called back, hoping he sounded groggy. “Get under the fucking covers,” he hissed at Harry, yanking the covers back and allowing Harry a millisecond to squirm beneath them before he put them back.
Just in time, because Blaise got impatient and flung the curtains open. “What were you doing?” he said, taking in the spilled beans, the scattered chess pieces, and Draco’s flustered expression.
“Feel asleep. Had a nightmare.”
“Geez, you have a lot of those. Well, come on, let’s go practice on our brooms,” he said, beckoning Draco.
“Uh…” Draco said, glancing discreetly at the lump that was Harry, “you go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute. I just need to splash some water on my face.”
“Okay. See you there.” Blaise got out his broom, and with a final wave, left, presumably for the Quidditch Pitch.
After Draco was sure Blaise wasn’t there, he yanked the covers back. Harry was so pale and looked so close to retching, Draco had to laugh. “I don’t think we should do this anymore.”
“Gee, thanks for the insight,” Harry muttered, his voice shaking. Draco pulled out his invisibility cloak and handed to Harry.
“I don’t trust that Blaise will have really left, so you had better follow us out.”
“I don’t know why I put myself through this,” Harry griped as he put on the invisibility cloak and waited for Draco to get his broom. “I must have lost three years off my life right there.”