Icicle Fingers (Drarry)

Chapter 21 (LEGIT UPDATE)

WATTPAD IS SCREWING ME OVER GAAH SORRY FOR ALL THE CONFUSION

•Draco•

On the first day of term, Draco seemed filled with the sensation of being involuntarily flooed. His heart shooting up and down as if it were playing jump rope with his arteries.
It did feel like life had been shoving him into random metaphorical fireplaces lately, the imaginary soot burning in his lungs.

Just thinking about the train platform was enough to leave him fighting a smile.
Sure, it was just a train platform. But it didn't feel like just a train platform anymore. At least not for the time being, and probably for longer.

It had kept Draco awake that night, grinning into his pillow like a moron. His face burning from what felt like thousands of sparks, but not fire. It had invaded his mind in class, rendering him flushed. He had to resort to burying his face in a textbook.

That day, on that train platform, Draco Malfoy had been deflating. Under the weight of his flesh, of gravity, of the trunk that he had  strongly wished to set aflame. It had seemed like he was reducing into something much like a grey sludge. The very same that laid where carriages had pummelled the snow with their wheels. After all, there was much that had left him discoloured as well. Purple was not too far from grey.
Then Harry had appeared, stupidly charming smile on his face. He contrasted the sharp, blue sky with a warm orange of his own. Snowflakes no longer felt like ice-crystals but instead like tufts of tissue paper.
Before he knew it, the gryffindor's arm had been wrapped around his back. The touch thawing -but not melting him. Breathing life into him again.

Okay, perhaps he was being somewhat melodramatic. But it didn't matter, because Draco was happy. His heart felt warm, and it swelled enough to take up that horrid empty space in his chest.

But inevitably -like always when jumping rope- it would plummet again. Filling him with utter despair, emptying him of the comfortable fantasy and forcing him back into sharp, unforgiving reality.

He wasn't supposed to be thinking things like this anymore. Keep fuelling his own depravity.

Repulsion at his own yearning haunted every thought, plagued every breath he made. The contents of his head almost enough to make him puke.

He wanted to rip that pathetic wad of muscle and veins out of his chest, rearrange it. Fix his disgusting defect.

Make himself normal again.

Draco was a blur as he moved between classes. School had started again too quickly for him to keep up. He was glad to stay streaked and fuzzy, it was easier not to think that way.

He came back into focus as potions started, hoping his favourite subject would help distract him for a second. Just a moment would be enough.

"Today we will be preparing a Shrinking Solution," Snape drawled, calming Draco's nerves. It was something simple, something he had done before. He could just relax and enjoy the art of potion-making. "We will be working in pairs, let's see..."

As Severus called out names, Draco sat with his hands lodged between his thighs; trying to still his quaking limbs. Praying that they wouldn't cause any issues with his precision. It was an elementary level potion, something that would be shameful to mess up. 

"-And... Malfoy and Potter." the professor finished, pointing right at him. Draco could feel himself begin to shake more, anxiety washing over him. As well as the smallest ounce of joy.

He walked over to their assigned cauldron, potions book in hand. Potter stood there already, smiling at him once more.

"All right then, let's get started shall we?" he asked, ignoring the rising sense of foreboding in his chest.