The Darkwood Wand

Changes

I have been WAITING to post this chapter. It's a major chapter for Draco and we get to meet another canon character. It was one of a handful of chapters I planned out beforehand and has changed very little from its first draft.

Draco slept late on Sunday after a night of restless dreams. The spell had whisked Granger away earlier than usual, he was sure of it, although he hadn't woken completely. He finally dragged himself out of bed and staggered into the bathroom, emerging still headachy and tired and profoundly unsettled.

Salazar knew Draco had enough to feel unsettled about, after a full Saturday of poison plants and vicious pastries and schemes and hexes, not to mention all the touching and snogging and his subsequent breakdown. And then he'd had to deal with Tennant again.

But all that was manageable. It was the last minutes before sleep that preyed on Draco's mind. Lying in the near-darkness with Granger, talking quietly, then playing kissing games? Had he run mad? His sleep had gone to shit after she'd left, too, and he finally drifted off again around dawn.

He considered staying in the dungeons through lunch—he had little appetite for food—but he had to keep an eye on Tennant. "Lay the groundwork" the wretch had said. If he was laying any groundwork near Granger, Draco wanted to know about it.

He eyed himself in the mirror as he shaved; Salazar, he looked terrible. This school year was really working him over, and the fact that all of his problems were his own fucking fault didn't help one bit. He'd planned a quiet year with everyone hating him and maybe some Gryffindor tail on the side, and look what he had. A lunatic roommate currently hunting the same witch who popped into his bed every night. And he had no one to blame but himself.

Draco dragged the razor over his rather hollow cheeks, wondering again why he'd reacted so strongly last night to the not-so-surprising news that Granger didn't intend to shag him. He'd put his odds of getting laid at about 1 in 3, once he had her top off. Yet, when she denied him, he'd gone spare. This had happened once or twice with Slytherin witches and he'd never reacted so.

He wiped his face and stalked back into his bedroom to dress. It makes no sense, Draco thought as he put on black on black on black on black. She thinks I'm vile. Why would she kiss me so softly, touch me so gently, let me caress her skin, suck ... Merlin, he was hard just thinking about it.

Draco fell into his leather sofa and put his head in his hands. He'd been doing that a lot lately, sitting around with his head in his hands. It couldn't be healthy, but he bet Granger had that effect on a lot of men.

Sex means something to me. Ye gods, what if Granger did like Draco, at least a little bit? What if she'd forgiven him, at least a little bit? What if she was just showing affection? Gryffindors did that, right? They were always kissing and hugging, and in public, too. What if Granger just wanted him and couldn't help herself because well, that was what she did? She probably hugged and kissed the Puff too. Draco clenched his hair so tightly it hurt. Not like that, surely. Surely she doesn't ...

"What's wrong with you?" an unwelcome voice asked. Salazar, even Tennant looked better than Draco today. Tennant's cheeks were ruddy and his eyes bright, even a little manic. His hands didn't even tremble.

"Headache," Draco said. "I just need some lunch."

Lunch was a disaster. Granger sat with the Gryffindors and Finch-Fletchley looked even more haughty than usual. The She-Weasel wasn't there, thank Merlin. But Granger kept staring at Tennant, breaking all her promises from the night before. Granger was, Draco realized with growing horror, watching Tennant eat. What had possessed him to give the witch any sort of hint? Had he been that desperate for one lousy kiss? Draco had to physically restrain himself from putting his head in his hands again.