𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 || H.P

𝟒𝟐

Harry POV;

Maybe it was the way she crossed her arms when she got cold.

Harry noticed more and more little things as days went by. It was difficult to not admire her, even when she was being troubled by those numbskulls they call Slytherin boys.

He had a pretty good idea of them all; from little things Alicia had told him, but mostly from observing their behavior from afar.

The dumb one, Theodore Nott, was a touch starved bastard.

While pretending to eat his toast at the Gryffindor table, he watched as Nott kissed Greengrass and sat down. Alicia insisted that they were dating, but that doesn't stop Theodore from sending flirtatious looks in her direction.

In fact, they all looked at her that way. It's something that Alicia failed to have noticed.

Or maybe she chose to ignore the way Blaise Zabini eyed her with a smirk.

Harry assumed that whatever he was thinking could not have been good. The boy is practically Malfoy's right hand man, damn it!

But Malfoy... he wasn't there.

-

"Katie Bell is back!"

It was a whisper that sounded awfully like a shout.

I looked up at the commotion for a brief second, then back down at my notes. But now, my mind was filled with anything but potions equations.

Harry is set on blaming Draco for everything. Now, I don't want to say I disagree, but I surely would've seen something.

Astoria would've said something. I glanced up again to see her with her brows furrowed at Theo. They seemed to be having a heated conversation about something, but their words passed too quickly for me to follow.

I shifted my eyes back to Katie Bell. She looked terribly fatigued, but better than before. A hoard of students surrounded her, asking questions and blabbering.

And Harry was one of them.

Damn it, Potter.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my quill again. I was only halfway through my second question when the gossip at the Slytherin table came to a halt.

My eyes traveled up again, and this time, Draco Malfoy stood at the end to the great hall with a look of dread on his face.

"Look who just showed up from hibernation," I mumbled. Everyone was too focused on Malfoy to hear. Harry had seen him too, and when he started walking toward him, my smile faded.

-

Harry's shirt was covered in Draco Malfoy's blood.

He peeled the fabric off of his body and placed it in the sink. I guided my eyes down, which he seemed to notice.

"What? It's nothing you haven't seen before."

We were in the Gryffindor quidditch locker room, as it was the least likeliest place we could get caught.

I sighed. "I'll wash it."

"I know how to wash a shirt."

"But you're dumb enough to start a duel?"

He huffed and said nothing.

"What were you thinking?!"

"I wasn't thinking!"

"Clearly!"

He covered his face with his palm. "To be fair, he started it."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Now you're being childish."

"It's true! He tried to use the Cruciatus Curse!"

"But you-" I stopped and stared at him. "The Cruciatus Curse?"

Harry gave me a look that implied 'I literally just said that'.

"He couldn't of actually- wanted to...?"

Harry shrugged. "Just more proof that he's a death eater."

I paused for a minute. "How did you make him bleed?"

He was silent.

"Harry-"

"It was the Half Blood Prince book." He shifted. "There was a spell in there and I- I don't know, the way it was written— it looked like hex of some sort." He cringed and waited for my reaction.

"...Dumbarse," I mumbled. "You better get rid of that thing."

"Oh I will! You know, Snape's not letting me play in our final game!"

"Well deserved." I kissed him on the cheek and reached for his shirt.

He immediately grabbed it away from me. "I still know how to wash a shirt."
-

A/N; I'm at a point in this book where I know where I want it to go, but I don't know how to get there.

... does that make sense?