Metamorous

Chapter 2 - Denial

Three days pass quickly. Malfoy and I trade insults as usual. I can almost believe that the scene in Dumbledore's office was a dream. Except that everytime I look at him he's all ready looking at me.

I made sure to be at breakfast the next day, just like I was supposed to. I look confusedly at him at least a few times every class. And now the three days are gone. I can't help feeling a little wigged out. How can I not be? Today is the day I kiss Draco Malfoy.

~~~~~~~

I didn't sleep much last night for some reason. Weird dreams. The kind you can't remember but still creep you out. I get up well after breakfast and saunter into Potions five minutes late, walking slowly down the aisle to where I sit with Pansy. Snape merely raises an eyebrow and goes back to lecturing the class.

"Today you will be making the Verita Potion, which is derived from Veritaserum. As such it is much less potent and tends to wear off in two to three minutes. The directions are on the board to your right and the ingredients in the cupboards to the front of the room. You have one hour and fifteen minutes. At the end of this time bottle your potions and bring them to me. Begin."

"Go get the ingredients," I command Pansy. She does as I tell her; she pretty much always does. While she's off playing servant I get to spend the next few minutes watching Potter. He's tied his hair back in a loose ponytail for Potions. Doesn't want anything in it I suppose. It's frighteningly Snape-like, except less ratty looking thank God. Which means he has the potential to be ugly or Snape has the potential to look gorgeous. Equally disturbing. Little frown lines are appearing in his forehead. He's concentrating much too hard, and completely smushing the caterpillars. And why do I care again?

Pansy comes back and we begin cutting, chopping, smashing, and stirring. The potion is probably a simple one but everything during the first week back seems difficult. Uber-difficult. Uber. Weird word. Or prefix. Or whatever the hell it is. Shut up brain!

Snape paces around the classroom, making snide comments and leering at everyone. He slows and stares down at our favored Trio. I smell trouble, and trouble is always amusing.

"Potter," he snaps. "Please tell me what color your potion is."

He looks down, blushing slightly. "Ah, orange, sir."

"And what color should it be?"

"Brown."

"Why is it not brown?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, sir."

"You don't know." Snape's voice softens dangerously. "Five points from Gryffindor." As he stalks his way back up to the front of the room I notice Potter kick the table violently. I can't help but smirk.

"Raise your hand if your potion is orange."

Half the class or so raises their hands.

"Good. What would happen if you add myrtle? Malfoy."

"The potion becomes neutralized." I see Potter roll his eyes. "Even I knew that," he hisses to Weasel.

"Excellent. Five points to Slytherin."

Life is so not fair. But it's great when it's not fair in my favor.

~~~~~~~

I rush out of the Potions classroom, bumping into Malfoy on the way.

"Tsk, tsk Potter. Can't even manage to make a simple truth potion. What's the world coming to when it's savior can't even pass potions?"

I turn back and glare at him. "Sod off Malfoy, I've got bigger problems than you."

He laughs smugly. "Ah, right. Find a way to get the Weasel some money while trying to defeat Voldemort, all before lunch. Quite a schedule, Saint Potter. Maybe you could work the Mudblood in there somewhere. Not that she's good for anything." Crap. For a second there I thought we were just fighting but now I remember. Yet how can I forget?

"Don't call Hermione that."

"Or what?" he taunts. "You'll turn me into a ferret?"

I grab his robes, hoping our fight seems as venomous as usual. I don't have the heart for throwing insults right now.

"I don't need magic to humiliate you Malfoy, so don't make me."

Draco grabs my robes as well, his face just a quick dart away from mine. I try to push him off automatically.

"Getting physical now are we? What's your problem Potter?"

This is it. I stop struggling and tilt my head sideways, staring into his burning silver eyes. I'm a bit dumbstruck. "Don't you know?" You, idiot. Somehow, it always boils down to you. And then I lean in towards him.

Our lips touch briefly, chastely. A second and no more. We push back, startled even though this was planned. Oh my God, we really are doing this. We stare at each other, completely deaf to the cries of surprise and shock around us. My hand slides from Draco's robes to the back of his neck almost of its own accord and I pull him towards me roughly.

If the first was chaste this was anything but. Our mouths smash together, tongues rubbing over each other's. I crush him closer to me, fitting him to the contours of my body. He sighs a bit, and I use that to grasp his lower lip and trace it with the tip of my tongue, enjoying the texture of Draco and... Wait. What the hell? I push him away, not having to fake my confusion and outrage. What am I doing?

"I..." He's as messed up over the whole thing as I am. But it's just an act. Right? "Harry!" I turn, almost running down the hall to the next class, passing Hermione and Ron without a second glance, ignoring their shouts and aghast expressions. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

~~~~~~~

Um. Wow. That was not part of the plan. Harry is not supposed to be a kissing god. I am not supposed to like kissing Harry Potter. Shit. Not good. Not. Good. At. All.

But... it made it believable right? And at least that part of the plan went perfectly. The Weasel and Granger stare after Harry like he's been possessed, and the rest of the people in the hallway seem to be snapping back and forth between Harry and I. They probably think they've entered another dimension. Ha. Ha bloody ha.

I shoulder my bag again and walk swiftly down the hall, trying for a look of nonchalance and avoiding everyone's eyes. Which is easier said than done. I can't believe I was enjoying the kiss! It doesn't matter, of course, because we still hate each other. It just means we have chemistry. More likely it was a fluke. We're really good actors, that's all. Yeah, that's it. Really good. Actors that is. SHUT UP BRAIN!

~~~~~~~

I storm into Charms and slam my books on the table. Professor Flitwick glances up briefly before turning back to the fourth year he was lecturing. I'm early and no one else is here right now. Which is a really good thing, because I'm not looking forward to the stares and whispers that I'll be getting really soon.

This is going to be worse than when they thought I was the heir of Slytherin. Then I was evil. Now I kiss evil. Much worse. I'm supposed to save everyone from Death Eaters, not snog them. Though this could lower their expectations of me, which could be a plus. Actually, knowing the Hufflepuffs, they'll think it's quite romantic.

Oh God. But the Gryffindors won't. My house is going to attack me. Every Weasley Wizarding Joke in the world is going to find it's way to me. Ron and Hermione are going to hate me. I won't have any friends, just Draco, which is not reassuring.

I sit morosely at my desk, ignoring the students who start trickling in. Some of them must have missed my display with Draco because they greet me normally. But Hogwarts gossip gets around like no other does. By the end of the class they're sure to know.

I sigh and open my Charms book half-heartedly. Great. I'm even acting the part of lovesick idiot. I can tell that I'm not going to be in this lesson at all. God. This sucks.

The door shuts with a quiet click behind me and without turning around I know Ron and Hermione have walked into the classroom, quiet and very, very serious. They stop in front of me. 'Mione looks as calm as always but Ron's completely wound-up. He's stiff and every muscle is taunt, like he's going to attack me. He very well might. Dumbledore, you are so going to find a way to make this up to me, I mentally telegraph. I'm going through Hell so Draco can be a spy. You so fucking owe me! On second thought profanity towards the Headmaster is not the best idea.

"What was that about?" Hermione looks down at me, serious and clinical. I feel like she's going to ask me to open my mouth, tell me to say 'ah', and take my temperature. Harry just kissed his greatest enemy; let's make him our science project.

"I don't know. It's just happened." Mostly true. "I surprised myself." That's very true.

"Surprised? Surprised? What the hell we you thinking? You kissed Malfoy!" Ron's voice creeps up an octave. "You... kissed... Malfoy. Those three words do not, under any circumstances, belong in the same sentence." The entire class, including Professor Flitwick, has turned to stare at the three of us. Let's get it out in the open right now.

"I don't know Ron! I don't know what I was thinking! I wasn't thinking at all! I just... did it. And I don't know why, ok, so don't ask. God!" I yell. "Everything's a bit fucked up right now, in case you haven't noticed. You think I'm happy about this? Why couldn't he be a bloody Gryffindor? A Ravenclaw. A Hufflepuff even. Nope. Couldn't be. Had to be Draco bloody fucking Malfoy!" I'm standing up now, waving my arms around like I'm insane. "What is it you want to hear? That it was a Harry Potter look-alike? That it was some off-color joke? Sorry to disappoint you. But I don't have the answers any more than you do." I feel so horrible right now. I'm flat-out lying to my best friends. Complete, total, unabashed lying. I feel like scum.

The two of them are staring at me, not that I blame them. I haven't lost it like that since Sirius died. Guilt does that to a person. Hermione looks like she's about to cry. And Ron looks at me the way he looks at Malfoy every time he sees him.

"How could you." He says it like a statement more than a question. "How could you." He's not even mad anymore, and that's the worst part. He's so calm. And Ron is never calm. Ron is whiny, Ron is mad, Ron is hyper, but Ron is never ever calm. I try to remember that this is worth it, that I'm saving Muggles, that I'm finally doing something to actually earn the 'hero' title everyone puts on me. But I'm losing my best friend. He walks away and sits at a table on the other side of the room.

There's not much else to say. Hermione's torn. I can see it. Should she stay with her best friend, or with her boyfriend? In her eyes it's not the end of the world, but in Ron's it is. Well we can't have that, can we?

"Go ahead," I say quietly, looking her straight in the eye. "Go on and sit with him. We both know if it came down to it... you'd chose him." I smile sadly. "It's all about love.'

She just looks at me for a second, tears spilling gently from her eyes. I can almost hear what she's thinking, Is Harry talking about Ron and I, or him and Draco? With a strangled cry she dives for the other side of the room, settling into the chair next to Ron.

I wonder, when this charade is over, will they ever forgive me? More importantly, more surprisingly, will I care if they do?

~~~~~~~

Step One went well. Well enough anyway. All the houses except mine stare at me in complete shock. Slytherins look at me with cunning smiles. They 'know' what's going on. I'm now a genius in their eyes. A genius among Death Eater wannabes.

I nibble on the end of my quill. I have to talk to Potter again. The symptoms would be coming hard and fast soon enough, and he's got to know what those are.

Harry,

Meet me in the Astronomy Tower at midnight.

Draco

The fact that I use both our first names means nothing. It's just in case anyone sees it of course. I sigh and settle down to write a short letter - more like a mini-report -- to my father.

Father,

The potion worked perfectly. After Potions class today, Harry Potter threw himself on me and kissed me. He's confused, but I'm sure he'll be fully under my control soon enough.

Your son,

Draco

There's no need for coding or special wording in my letters to father. If he gets caught my problems end, and if he doesn't, well, we just wait.

I walk hastily towards the Owlrey, sending Potter's note off with one of the school owls and father's with my kestrel. Afterwards I head to the Great Hall for dinner. Stepping into the room causes nearly everyone to stop talking. A few first and second years prattle on but the rest watch me in near disbelief as I flash a grin at Harry. To my amazement he blushes but returns it. Good. That's about right.

It seems Weasel and Granger didn't take things so well. They're all the way down the table from where Harry is sitting. The Gryffindors are alternating their glares and dirty looks between me and him. With the exception on the Weasley girl - Jenny? - and Longbottom. They're sitting with him and talking. I feel a little better that someone is sticking with him. I didn't mean to make him lose all his friends, but better than losing his life.

I settle down between Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy's sitting across from me, simpering as usual. "You did so well Drakie. I just know when you go home for Christmas you'll get the Mark. The youngest person ever."

Eugh. Doesn't she have anyone else to annoy? I know she doesn't see it that way, but please. Don't salivate on me.

"Now Pansy dear, don't tease. I don't think my new boyfriend would like it." The entire table erupts in laughter. Ah yes, bow down and worship the two-faced prince of Slytherin.

~~~~~~~

I returned to the dorm to find two letters on my bed. One was Malfoy's. The Astronomy Tower at midnight. I can do that. No one cares where I go anymore anyway, except for Ginny and Neville I suppose. Thank God they stayed with me at dinner.

Ginny was uncommonly tolerant and almost unconcerned it was Malfoy. She told me, "If you love him, who cares who he is? Though I must admit I don't get it." Neville just nodded dumbly afterwards, so he must agree more or less. Are they together? Hmm. Makes me wonder. But of course this has caused a huge Weasley vs. Weasley War, of which I am the subject. I'll probably be getting letters from every member of the family soon enough. On the plus side, the very small plus side, Ron seems to be no longer mad at Dean. Glory, glory, hallelujah.

When Malfoy smiled at me in the Great Hall I was startled. I don't think I've ever seen him smile. He looked angelic, which is definitely not a word you associate with him. But when you think of the glowing silver eyes and gleaming white-blonde hair, what other word can come to mind? Though his personality is more that of a fallen angel.

But moving on. The second letter is from Hermione...

Harry,

I don't understand. I've thought it completely and totally through and I still don't get it. Either it's one serious love potion or you really love him. (Well, she got that in one crack. And it's the first option, not the second. Obviously.) I'm not sure which scares me more. (Not sure which scares you more? Not sure which scares you more?!)

Like I said I don't get it. I'm not sure I want to. But I know love is really unpredictable. Who knew that a world famous Quidditch star would fall in love with me of all people? But that I'd be in love with my best friend? Who knew you'd fall in love with the slimiest git in the world? It's not nice, I know. Old habits are hard to break.

You love him, fine. But I'm never talking to him. I can't. Do you know how many times he's called me Mudblood? Insulted Ron? This is crazy. It doesn't seem like you Harry.

Promise me two things:

Love always, no matter what,

Hermione

I fold the note slowly. This is as much as I can expect from her. Almost more than I'd hoped for. Hermione believes in second chances, but she's not one to forgive and forget. I sigh. Balls to the wall Hermione. If she thinks she's right (which, granted, she usually is), she'd go to her grave saying so.

Grabbing the nearest quill I scratch out a quick reply.

Hermione,

Thanks for your understanding - such as is. I can honestly say it wasn't something I planned on. No one saw that coming.

I'll go straight to Dumbledore first thing tomorrow, I promise. But it's not a love potion Hermione. You know as well as I they're temporary and certainly not that strong.

I all ready told you I don't want to force you to choose, but I understand if you do. It seems I've all ready made mine. If I use the Invisibility Cloak I can sneak up to your room easily, especially since you have your own, Ms. Head-Girl. And whatever happens, I love you Hermione. You know that right? I even love Ron, hot-tempered git that he is. Which brings us to our problem. I love Draco. See where that's gotten me?

Harry

I read over it once, knowing it's disjointed, near pointless, and filled with lies. I'm sure 'Mione won't pick up on the underlying 'issues' though. I hand the letter off to Hedwig and check the clock again. Just a few more hours until I meet Malfoy, and I've got a History of Magic essay calling my name.

~~~~~~~

Now there's an odd couple. I did not expect to see Mandy Brocklehurst snogging Hannah Abbott. Who knew they were batting for the same team? Well, you never can tell with those Hufflepuffs, and the Ravenclaws aren't much better. At least I understand the Gryffindors. With exceptions. Harry being one of those exceptions.

Sometimes I can read his mind. Not literally, like I can tell exactly what he's thinking. But sometimes I know what direction he's heading into. Though other times he completely surprises me. Like when he headed up 'Dumbledore's Army'. And all the rule breaking. Not as much as me, of course, but close. And this afternoon. He's a much better actor than I thought. There was a second or so there I though he was going to bolt, but it went well. Better than well. Argh, we are not going there again.

"Malfoy."

I jerk around. Where the hell's Harry? I feel a rush of air swirl past me and suddenly he's standing there, a large gray bundle in his hands. And things click. His floating head at the Shrieking Shack. How he manages to creep around so much.

"Christ Potter, warn a person before you sneak up on them like that! Invisibility Cloaks are cheating."

He smirks a little. "Scared?"

"Startled. Big difference."

"Yeah. There is."

Was that a note of sadness? Despondency? I'm ignoring it. I wave my wand around, muttering a little something. I see Harry's pointed look.

"Silencing charm. Wouldn't want people to hear the plan. And about the plan..."

"More snogging?" he asks quietly. Very plainly. Why am I disappointed there was no emotion behind that, even disgust?

"Yeah. And touching. Big on the touching. Little things though. Brushing up against each other. Touching hands. Shoulder pats. Gooey little meaningless gestures. Lots of them. If you were really under the potion's spell you'd get antsy if you hadn't touched me for a while."

"Great," Harry snorts sarcastically. "So we're joined at the hip?"

"And happy about it," I chirp, overly perky. "Isn't love grand?"

Another snort. "Anything else?"

"Same as usual. Staring across the room. We should study together. But unlike what everyone's dirty minds will be thinking we really can just study. And let's see... hmm. The big thing is, we have to start to bicker now and then. Bickering is... would be... our form of flirting." The words stick in my throat. Damn father for researching this so well. It couldn't be easy, could it? "It's that whole passionate and not exactly romantic thing coming back into play. We would make up almost immediately afterwards." Harry keeps leaning against the wall. Is any of this getting through? "You should be insanely jealous if anyone comes near me. Technically you should also be clingy but you aren't really a clingy person, so we'll just skip that."

"Rah."

When did he get so fucking jaded? Not worth your time King Harry? Get off your goddamn high horse and see things like the rest of us!

"I know this isn't fun," I snarl. "Far from it. But do you want to save those people or not? It's three months Harry, and for three months you can give who knows how many people the rest of their lives!" Turning quickly I clamber down the stairs, giving in to my temper and stamping loudly. About halfway down I realize it wasn't so much that Harry was ignoring the problem but that he was ignoring me. Why is it so all-fired important that he notices me?

Stupid idiot. Ruddy git. I fume all the way to the dungeons, slipping on the cold-Draco mask and strolling through the common room and up to the seventh-year dorm. I ignore the mock-lascivious looks and knowing glances. There's no doubt in my mind that before I came in they were making bets on all sorts of things. Bets are off ladies and gents. This is a whole 'nother game.

~~~~~~~

Draco really is serious about this. I feel stupid. I feel like a complete idiot. I didn't mean to insult him. But this sucks. He doesn't get it. He's not losing anything but his spot in the Death Eater Inner Circle. Big loss.

And then I feel doubly horrible. The reason he's losing nothing is because he's got nothing to lose. Draco doesn't have any real friends. Draco's family is more dysfunctional than mine is. Draco is no longer 'Malfoy' but 'Draco'. When did that happen?

Well, no big right? Like he said, it's all pretend. The game of bullshit, I think he called it. Sounds about right.

I'll apologize tomorrow. I care about what happens to the Muggles, obviously, otherwise I wouldn't be here.

Honestly, times like this I think I have ADD. My thoughts are in a million places, scurrying back and forth. This can't be normal. I'm flustered. Why is Point A not connecting to Point B? Why have certain people ventured into places they shouldn't be? Why does Harry care whether he hurt Draco's feelings? Why am I referring to myself in the third person? And why am I still standing here thinking when I should be in my common room four floors below?

I mentally slap myself. Get it together Harry. It's only going to get worse before it gets better.