The Plan

For a few seconds after the door closed behind Draco, Harry simply stayed where he was, pondering the turn that things had taken. In all of his careful plotting, all his scenarios of how this could go, he hadn't imagined Draco would run into the bathroom like a scared rabbit. Granted, it was quite funny, and Lord knows Draco deserved to be thrown off like that, but Harry was still mightily displeased. If he had wanted Draco to run away, he could have used any room, any Plan, and could have asked Ron and eventually Hermione's help. But no, Harry was serious in his intention to inform Draco of his feelings and, for lack of a better term, have his wicked way with him.

But of course Draco, being the little prick of a Malfoy he always was, ruined Harry's plan in one fell swoop, therefore rendering Harry helpless. Despite what people expected, the Boy-Who-Lived was actually just Pretty Average, and in fact had spent so much mental energy on the first Plan, he was unsure how to begin a second. It was around this time that he started wishing that Hermione was there to help him...but he kept his thoughts away from the word "need", knowing full well that just that one word would send Hermione zooming straight into the room, and she would not be happy when she found out why. No, Harry was once again on his own.

As it always did in times like these, Harry's mind switched to a subject that he was always sure of, no matter what: food. He had missed dinner to put this seemingly foolproof Plan into action, and his stomach wasn't shy about letting him know that it did not approve of this maneuver.

Harry was rather grateful for his stomach at the moment, for it had handed him a problem that he knew he could solve all by his lonesome. What I need, he thought to himself, is some hot food. Within seconds, a steaming plate was in front of him, filled with chicken and other tasty things, just asking him to dig in. Harry was more than happy to oblige. He picked up a piece of chicken and raised it to his mouth, all ready to take a bite, when the sound of the bathroom door opening stopped him. He put the chicken back on his plate, and turned slowly to face Draco, who was glaring at him apprehensively. His gaze moved to the plate of food in front of Harry, and hunger filled his eyes.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, apparently forgetting to scowl or sneer in his current state of starvation. Harry grinned. He could use this to his advantage. A brand new, freshly polished Plan started to form in his head, and he went with it.

"What, this?" he asked, waving a hand at the food. Draco nodded, trying hard not to let his eyes stray to the plate. His eyes had other plans, however, and soon they were glued to the food, unable to look away. "Damn," he cursed softly, and Harry's grin grew even wider. "Would you like some, Draco?" he inquired, knowing full well that yes, Draco did want some, and that he would probably do just about anything to get it. He was proved right when Draco nodded, not taking his eyes from the still steaming plate in front of Harry. Harry's grin faded a little. That would not do at all. He said, "You can have some if you'd like, but you have to do something for me." Draco's eyes flew from the plate and up to Harry's own, suddenly wide and frightened. Harry's grin returned full force. That's better.

Draco was stammering. "W-what do you want me to do?" he asked worriedly, and Harry knew by the flash of fear in Draco's silver eyes that the boy was afraid Harry would kiss him again. Harry almost laughed out loud, thought better of it and turned his laughter into a cough instead. Draco's eyes narrowed and his sneer returned. "Whatever you're thinking, Potter, you can just forget it. I would never stoop so low as to do you any favors for the sake of a meal. Frankly, I think doing anything for you would destroy my appetite."

This time the laughter just wouldn't be held back, and it burst from Harry's mouth in loud brays, rather like a donkey's. Harry didn't mind. He looked into Draco's bewildered face and laughed all the harder. Finally he got himself under control. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he told a scowling Draco, "Sorry. It's just that those comments would hurt a whole hell of a lot more if you didn't look so scared while you said it."

Draco's reply was indignant. "I was not scared!" he cried, glaring at Harry. "Malfoy's aren't scared of anything. Especially not you, Potter." Harry, still smiling slightly, shook his head. "Okay, Draco, you weren't scared," he replied, rolling his eyes. "But just so you know, I'm not going to try anything...though the reaction was amusing, I must admit it's not an incentive for me to try again."

"Big word Potter...surprised you even know what it means," was Draco's reply, but as his eyes were once again glued to the plate, the remark didn't hold as much rancor as it normally would have and therefore was about as hurtful to Harry as his earlier comments had been. As Draco stared at the food, he licked his lips. Harry felt a small thrill of pleasure run through him, and gave his body a small shake. It wouldn't be a good idea to get all hot and bothered when he was so close to having Draco right where he wanted him, for the moment at least.

At Harry's movement, Draco looked up. There was slight desperation in his eyes as he asked, "What do you want?" Harry gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile, thinking, whoa, Malfoy must be really hungry as he replied, "Nothing big. All I want is for you to come out here and have a civilized conversation with me. No touching whatsoever," he added as Draco looked at him warily, silently cursing the part of him that had come up with this new Plan. "I promise."

Draco looked at Harry uncertainly for a few moments, but eventually his gaze strayed to the food and he replied, "Okay," a split second before practically flying over to Harry. Without so much as a glance at the other boy, Draco began to eat ravenously, and as Harry watched the food rapidly start to disappear, he thought, we're going to need more food.