Chapter Four
Draco awoke with a gasp. Before his eyes swam the vision of the Dark Lord
laughing over Potter’s dead body; dead by the hands of Draco. Draco
felt tears burning in his eyes and a large lump in his throat made him
want to throw up.
There was a knock on the door.
Draco looked around, shocked to find that he was in his bed. He was positive that he’d fallen asleep in the bathroom last night. If he was in the bed and there was a knock on the door – was it possible that it was another Valentine’s Day?
Pansy walked into the room, wearing the same loosely tied dressing gown and red underwear that she’d sported for three days.
“Oh lord,” Draco mumbled and jumped out of bed. He ran to Pansy and grabbed her arms. “What day is it today?”
Pansy smiled coyly at him. “Why, it’s Valentine’s Day of course, silly.”
Draco thought he’d faint with relief. Pansy looked understandably confused, but then she smiled again and ran a hand down Draco’s chest.
“Want to celebrate it?” she cooed and moved closer.
“No,” Draco said, pushing her away.
She tried to look sexy, pouting at him, but came off looking more ridiculous than anything else. “Oh, come on, Draco. We could have some fun.”
Suddenly, Draco thought, why not? Killing Potter had obviously – thankfully, a little voice said though Draco ignored it – stopped this day from repeating itself and Pansy was continuously throwing herself at him. He didn’t care that she only thought she’d done it once; in Draco’s screwed up life, she’d done it four mornings in a row. He was a seventeen year old boy!
For some reason, Potter’s face flashed before his eyes. It wasn’t the frozen face of a dead Potter, but a Potter in total ecstasy, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. His mouth was half-open and he was panting hard as Draco pounded into him.
“Actually,” Draco said, horrified that he was turning himself on with images of Potter, “yes, let’s have some fun.”
Pansy giggled as Draco pulled her to him and kissed her. Her hands began roaming his body and she was obviously excited when she found the bulge in his pants – she believed it was because of her. Draco tried with all his might to keep Potter away from his thoughts, but as Pansy’s hands travelled lower, he couldn’t stop the memories of Potter’s warm hands stroking him.
Pansy pulled Draco down onto the bed and began unbuttoning his pyjama top. He untied the dressing gown and looked upon the soft female curves and tried not to wish that it was Potter’s hard body he had beneath him.
Then he demanded himself to stop thinking of Potter and to try to make that happen, he threw himself fully into the sex and enjoyed the sensations that it brought.
Leaving Pansy behind – though she obviously hoped that they would stay in bed and cuddle for a while – Draco dressed, combed his hair and left for the Great Hall. Crabbe and Goyle had already left; they had probably been informed by Pansy of her plans of seduction and been told to go ahead. Only the other days, Pansy had been thrown out of the room rather quickly.
Draco stopped just before the entrance to the Great Hall. The events that had taken place today, including Pansy’s assurance that it was Valentine’s Day, told him that this was another repeat – but what if it wasn’t? What if she’d been wrong and it was February fifteenth? What if Potter was still dead?
He wondered just when he’d started to care so much for Potter. Killing him the day before shouldn’t have mattered as much as it had – and having sex with Pansy shouldn’t have made him wish that it was Potter he was fucking instead.
He knew he couldn’t wait out in the hallway forever, so in the end he took another deep breath and walked into the room.
Once more, he was overcome with relief – Potter sat next to Granger and Weasley, looking bored as he had four days in a row now. Draco was obviously a bit later than he had been before to breakfast because Granger and Weasley weren’t snogging anymore; instead they were trying to engage Harry in conversation.
Potter looked up, obviously feeling Draco’s gaze on him. Draco told himself to look away but found that he couldn’t. Then Potter did the unexpected: he smiled slightly at Draco before looking away.
Floored, Draco walked to his seat.
“Mornin’,” said Crabbe and Goyle as he sat down.
Draco nodded to them and began eating mechanically. Potter had smiled at him. After everything Draco had done, Potter had smiled at him. Granted, Potter didn’t have a clue that Draco had done those things but still – with their history, a smile was definitely unexpected.
When Pansy came into the hall a few minutes later, she was smiling widely. As soon as she sat down, she clung to Draco.
“Get off me, Parkinson,” Draco said roughly, shooing her off.
“But—” Pansy looked at him and pouted again, perhaps thinking that it had worked the last time so why not again?
“Pansy, you’re nice – sometimes – but I don’t want you,” Draco said. “So leave me alone.”
Pansy’s eyes filled with tears. Just like she had before, she said, “Why do you have to be so mean?”
Draco shook his head. Pansy should know that Draco didn’t want a relationship with her – he didn’t want a relationship with anyone! He liked the way he lived his life – able to fuck pretty much anyone he’d like at any time.
The owls arrived and delivered the sixteen cards for Draco. He opened some of them and leered at the senders – having sex with Pansy had felt good but it hadn’t satisfied him; perhaps someone else was willing? By the looks he received back, that was a definite possibility.
A little while later, the owl with Potter’s rose arrived and Draco took it, rather more thoughtfully now than any of the other days. Perhaps he could get a trust in with Potter as well? Draco’s mind seemed to return to Potter and Potter’s body quite a bit more than he liked and another go with him might cure that. He couldn’t have been that good, after all.
“Go ahead of me,” Draco told Crabbe and Goyle when they were about to leave for Transfigurations.
His goons nodded dumbly and trotted off. Draco waited, lazily leaning against a wall, outside the Great Hall. Soon enough, Megan Jones exited the hall and Draco smirked invitingly at her.
“That was a nice card you sent,” Draco said in a sultry voice he knew made him irresistible.
“I’d have expected one from you as well,” Megan said, pouting in a fashion that wasn’t unlike Pansy’s earlier in the morning. Draco wondered why girls thought pouting was sexy; most of them looked silly.
Draco didn’t let his thoughts show, though. He smirked at Megan. “Perhaps there is something I can do to make up for that?”
Megan smiled at him. “We have lessons.”
“Then we’d better get going.”
Sex with Megan was just as dissatisfying as sex with Pansy. Draco spent the hour that he should have been in Transfigurations roaming the halls instead, trying to figure out why he wasn’t satisfied with the girls – and why he couldn’t stop wishing that it was Potter instead. It was the thought of Potter that turned him on, not the naked girls before him.
Draco hid from Filch and turned to Potions instead.
“Where were you during Transfigurations?” Goyle asked when they came into the classroom a few minutes later.
“There was something else I had to do,” Draco shrugged. They wouldn’t ask him anymore if he showed clearly that he didn’t want to tell them about it.
Snape began his lecture as he had for three days. “Today, we will be starting to cover the Truth Serums. These include Veritaserum, the Folium potion and the Juroserum. We will start with the Juroserum. Can anyone tell me what the Juroserum does?”
Draco didn’t bother putting up his hand. He was sitting half-turned in his seat, watching Potter out of the corner of his eye. It was still rather amazing to him that the boy he had killed the day before was now sitting there, alive and well, as though nothing had happened. Avada Kedavra couldn’t be undone – and it had been.
Or perhaps it was just Potter’s ability to reflect the curse – he’d done it as a baby and perhaps he’d faked his death yesterday as well? But no, Draco knew that was untrue.
The lesson passed uneventfully for Draco, mainly because he already knew which events would take place. He finished his perfect Juroserum a fourth time. He was just about to bottle it when he got the idea of keeping some for himself. While Snape was busy breathing down the Weasel’s neck about how to scrub the cauldron clean after such an explosion, Draco took another vial from the cupboard and poured some Juroserum into it. He dropped it into his pocked. Then he bottled the rest and gave it to Snape, who awarded him House points for the perfectly made potion.
“Thank you, sir,” said Draco. He wondered what he was going to do with the little bit of potion he’d kept, but he was certain there would be an opportunity.
During lunch, the four owls delivered the same cards and wrapped box as they had for four days. Bored, Draco took them and placed them in his pocket. He glanced at Potter and realised, for the first time since he’d started reliving the same day, two things: first, that Potter had also received a number of owls during lunch and second, that Potter wasn’t paying attention to any of them, but watching Draco instead. When he realised that Draco was looking back at him, Potter quickly looked away.
Pansy spoke to him. “Aren’t you going to open them?”
Draco wondered how it was possible that no matter the situation, Pansy seemed to use the exact same words every time. Then again, this was Pansy – she didn’t have a very big vocabulary.
“No, Pansy, I’m not. And stop hanging off me, it’s unattractive,” Draco sneered at her. In his mind, he speculated in how many different ways he would be able to tell her to ‘sod off’ without her getting it. She really didn’t seem to understand that he didn’t want her and that he wasn’t in love with her.
“I love you.”
Unbidden, the words of the day before echoed through his mind. He heard them so clearly he thought Potter was once more standing before him, but when he looked up, Potter was sitting at the Gryffindor table, talking to Granger and the Weasel.
“What is it?” Crabbe asked.
“Nothing,” Draco said. “Just Potter being annoying.”
Crabbe and Goyle both looked over at the Gryffindor table. “He’s gotten more owls than you did,” Crabbe said.
“Yes, thank you, I know,” Draco snapped. “There’s no need to point that out.”
Crabbe shrank back slightly. It wasn’t easy for someone his size to shrink back, but under Draco’s scorching glare, he did.
Draco didn’t want to be reminded of Potter at all. He didn’t want to think about him – and yet everywhere he looked there seemed to be a reminder of him. Even as he wandered up towards Divinations, his memories kept replaying – the last time he’d lived this, he had told Trelawney that Potter was going to die. It inevitably led Draco to thoughts of their meeting in the unused classroom.
“Today, we will start upon a field within Divinations that is truly hard. Indeed, most of you will not be able to see anything at all and those of you who do are likely to misinterpret the message it brings you,” Trelawney said once the students had taken their seats. Trelawney walked over to the desk where the crystal balls stood, hidden underneath a purple fabric. Trying to be as dramatic as possible, Trelawney pulled the fabric away and exclaimed, “Crystal ball gazing!”
Draco rolled his eyes. The others mumbled excitedly however, just as they had the previous lessons.
“Get the crystal ball that speaks to you,” Trelawney said and the students eagerly went down to the desk. Draco picked one of the lot – by now, he knew that no matter what, he wouldn’t see anything in it.
The students sat back down again, some enthusiastically whispering to each other and others trying to see something in the crystal balls.
“Look deep within the swirling mists of the crystal,” Trelawney instructed, the same as always. Draco wondered is she had a manuscript that she followed. He could say the words with her if he wanted to. “If you have the gift, you shall be able to see your future within its depths. It might not show the way you expect it to but the crystals always have stories to tell.”
Draco looked into the crystal. There was swirling mists within, as there had been each time, but none of them formed into any shapes that Draco could decipher. After a while of staring, Draco’s mind wandered back to the question of why the girls had been unable to satisfy him completely before. He’d come in the sense of an orgasm but he didn’t get that sense of calmness afterwards. Something was lacking.
Soon, images of Potter’s naked body started flashing before his eyes. The feel of Potter’s hot breath on his neck as Potter kissed and licked him, the lovely sensation of those strong arms around him and the tightness of Potter himself, all around Draco.
When Draco felt his trousers becoming tight, he shook his head to clear it. He was not attracted to Potter!
The lesson couldn’t end soon enough. Draco packed his belongings and headed down to another lesson of the same Arithmancy as he’d already had three times. On the way, he ran into Wayne Hopkins.
“Hi,” Wayne said, sounding excited for some unknown reason.
“Hi,” Draco said, raising an eyebrow at him, wondering why Wayne was speaking to him. He hadn’t done so on either of the other days – then again, Draco reflected, he was a wee bit early for Arithmancy this time, unlike the other days. Yesterday, they had been dismissed early and he had already been in the Arithmancy classroom by this time, and the two days before that, he’d made his way down in a leisurely pace instead of hurrying away from Pansy and the rest.
Wayne leered at him. “Did you like my card?”
At that, Draco knew exactly what Wayne wanted. Draco smirked at him. “Back for more?”
Wayne’s smile grew. “I’ll always be back for more.”
Perhaps, Draco thought, having sex with a boy would cure his obsession with Potter. That was why the two discreetly made their way into the boys bathroom on the second floor and locked themselves in a stall. Wayne couldn’t keep his hands off Draco and Draco, who’d barely been able to completely calm himself down after thinking about Potter, found himself liking the attention.
Yet the more Wayne touched him, kissed him and licked him, the more Draco began imagining that it was really Potter who was doing it all to him. He had to bite his tongue several times to keep from gasping, “Potter!” instead of, “Wayne!”
When Draco came deep within Wayne, it was with a fervent image in his head that it was Potter he was doing instead.
Draco straightened and pulled his tie back in place.
Wayne looked up at him with wonder in his eyes, still high on the ride Draco had offered. “That was great,” he said. “You’re amazing.”
Draco shrugged. “It was all right.”
Hoping that he looked presentable, Draco opened the door—
— and stopped dead in his tracks.
“Malfoy?”
Potter’s voice sounded disbelieving and horrified. He stood with wide eyes, looking first at Draco and then at Wayne. When his gaze returned to Draco, he was pale with shock. Draco had to remind himself that Potter had no idea Draco was gay, nor did he remember having sex with Draco.
If the scene that now played out had happened on the first Valentine’s Day Draco had lived through, it was possible that he’d have threatened Potter about telling anyone about Draco’s bisexuality. As it was, Draco knew Potter wouldn’t tell.
“What, have you never had sex in a toilet booth?” Draco sneered at Potter. “Of course you haven’t – virgin saint Potter.” He wasn’t quite sure why he was being rude – having Potter in front of him after the events of the day before seemed almost like heaven and yet breaking a habit was hard.
“I—” Potter said. Then he shook his head, turned around and dashed out of the room.
Draco stood staring after him when he felt Wayne come up behind him and put his arms around Draco’s waist.
“Do you think he’ll tell anyone?” Wayne asked.
Draco sneered and pulled free. “Of course he won’t. He’ll never even admit to walking in on us.”
Wayne looked a bit hurt at getting the cold shoulder, not unlike the girls, but Draco couldn’t care less. There had been something in the meeting with Potter – something that Draco couldn’t put his finger on. What Draco did know was that he had hurt Potter three times in four days, even though Potter wasn’t aware of him doing it consciously today.
He didn’t know why, but he had to talk to Potter.
After Arithmancy, Draco as usual went back to his rooms. He paced back and forth over the floor, hoping that an explanation would come to him. Why was he so obsessed with Potter all of a sudden? Why did it matter that he’d hurt him again today? Why had he reacted so violently to killing Potter? He wasn’t supposed to have feelings to begin with!
In the end, Draco unwrapped the chocolates and, with a sigh, picked one of the heart-shaped sweets up.
Moments later, he landed in the same classroom as always. Only, it didn’t look the same. It took Draco a second to realise that it was the lighting that was different. Though the hundreds of candles were placed on the desks, they weren’t lit. Instead, one of the huge tapestries had been moved to reveal a window and some of the later afternoon light spilled inside.
Draco turned around to the door and found another surprise – Potter hadn’t even bothered to put on his Invisibility Cloak. Instead, he stood leaning against the door with an expression of sadness on his face. He looked up at Draco and Draco could feel those eyes boring straight through him, but Potter didn’t say anything.
“What’s with the candles?” Draco asked, needing to say something.
Potter looked away, through the window. “I wanted this place to look nice.”
“Well, since you put them out, perhaps you should light them,” Draco suggested. He felt a need to pretend that he didn’t know that Potter was his secret admirer.
“Why bother?” Potter asked and pushed away from the wall. He started pacing back and forth.
“It seems like a waste of candles otherwise,” Draco said.
“Then let it be a waste!” Potter said. “I don’t care.”
Draco took a careful step towards Potter. “You brought me here so that you could tell me that you don’t care?”
Potter looked up. His hair fell into his eyes and he brushed it away with the back of his hand. “No,” he said bitterly. “I wanted this place to look nice for you, but you made it pretty clear earlier this afternoon that you’d rather I don’t.”
Draco leaned against one of the desks. “Why did you send me those gifts?” Then he added, as he wasn’t supposed to know it was Potter, “Because it was you, right? The necklace, the ring, the portrait and the rose – it was all you?”
Potter looked away, but to Draco’s surprise, he didn’t look ashamed. “Yeah,” he said. “I sent you those things. Thought you might appreciate them. Thought you might understand once you got here that I don’t want bad things for you.”
“I did appreciate them,” Draco said honestly. Before he’d found out they were from Potter, Draco had been very glad of his presents.
“So you decided to go out and fuck Wayne Hopkins to show your appreciation?” Potter asked resentfully.
“No!” Draco said and was surprised with his own forcefulness. “I— believe it or not, I did it to try to get you out of my head.”
Potter stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Draco. “You what?”
Draco allowed the frustration he felt to come out. “I don’t know! For the last few days, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you!”
It wasn’t entirely untrue, although the way he’d been thinking of Potter had changed radically over the course of the four Valentine’s Days. He didn’t need to tell Potter that.
“You haven’t?” Potter asked warily.
Draco shrugged, irritated with himself. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything towards Potter! It was wrong! Potter was his enemy.
“No,” Draco said sullenly. Wishing to turn the conversation back on Potter, he asked again, “Why did you send me those gifts?”
Potter hesitated. “Because— because I like you.”
“Those are not gifts of friendship,” Draco said pointedly.
Potter looked down, swallowed visibly and then he looked back at Draco. He said quietly, “I don’t like you as a friend.”
Silence spread. Draco had already known what Potter’s reply would be, but it was still something to hear it out loud. Potter looked away, his cheeks reddening. He was obviously embarrassed.
“Why?” Draco asked finally. It was a question he didn’t have the answer to. “Why do you like me?”
It was Potter’s time to shrug. “I don’t know. I really wish I didn’t,” he said honestly. “It would make things a whole lot easier. You’re infuriating and stubborn and a real git—”
“Yes, Potter, this will really make me fall for you,” Draco said. There was a hint of play in his voice.
“—but I like you anyway,” Potter finished. “And please, don’t call me that.”
“What?”
“Potter,” he said. “My name is Harry.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “All right, I’ll try that. Harry. But you still haven’t answered the question. Why do you like me?”
Pott— Harry started pacing again. “I don’t know. I’ve just— I’ve watched you a lot because Dumbledore said we should keep an eye on you. And I think I’ve seen a different side of you – when you’re with your friends – and you’re good in school and— oh, I don’t know. How do you explain lo— attraction?”
Draco noticed the slip, but didn’t comment. “I haven’t been very nice to you or your friends.”
“Trust me, I know,” Harry said. “I told you, I know it would have been far easier to not be interested in you.”
Silence fell again. Harry was looking terribly shy, keeping his distance from Draco.
“Did you like the gifts?” Harry asked after a minute’s silence.
Draco smiled slightly and nodded. “The protection amulet was very thoughtful.”
“I though you could wear it if you ever have to face Voldemort,” Harry said. “Dumbledore helped me charm it.”
“Dumbledore?” Draco repeated. He’d known the amulet was powerful but hadn’t been aware that it was that strongly charmed.
“He didn’t know who it was for,” Harry said.
Silence fell again. Then Draco spoke. “Po— Harry. I don’t know what I feel about this. About you. I— the last few days have been a bit strange and confusing for me and I’m not really sure of what to make of all of it. I just— would it be all right if we just talked?”
Harry nodded. “I hope this isn’t some elaborate scheme you’ve come up with to do before you kill me,” he said, giving a small chuckle.
Draco’s face became rather white. The words hit a bit too close to home. “I have Juroserum in my pocket,” he said. “If you want to be certain.”
He took the vial out of his pocket.
“Is it the stuff we made today?” Harry asked. “Mine was a darker blue.”
Draco knew that it had been. “This is the colour it’s supposed to be.”
“And you would take it?” Harry asked. “To make me sure that you’re not going to kill me?”
“It would be something I would have up front in my mind, now wouldn’t it?” Draco asked. His mouth felt dry. He hoped Harry wouldn’t ask him to take the potion because it might force him to tell Harry of the repetition of Valentine’s Day.
Harry placed a hand over Draco’s. “I trust you’re telling me the truth, Draco,” he said gently. “You don’t have to take a truth serum – I can see it in your eyes.”
Draco felt as if bolts of lightening were passing through the two of them. There was certainly a connection between them that couldn’t be denied and it was up to Harry and Draco to explore it.
“Let’s sit down and just talk and see where that gets us,” Harry said with a meaningful look. Draco knew Harry felt the connection as well.
That night, Draco fell asleep on the floor of an unused classroom, next to his new friend – Harry Potter.
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