Fight For Your Life (A Drarry Story)

Chapter Two: The Potions Partner

The next few days have gone by pretty smoothly. Draco hasn't had any slip ups of emotions or accidently spewed a thoughtless speech of just how much he likes the golden boy. Just maybe a few loose stares and almost smiles. But he's got to keep it under wraps. Ginny is as relentless as ever, hanging off of Harry like a bird. He envies the red head, being able to get those smiles and beautiful laughs to come out of his mouth without doing anything at all. Getting the boy who lived to love her. It must not be hard for her. Being on the good side and all. Never had anything to do with the Dark Lord. Being a girl. Everything he's not. He let's out a small sigh.

"Anything wrong, Draco?" Pansy asks from beside him. He just shakes his head at one of his best friends.

"Just tired, that's all." She smiles and goes back to the conversation she was having with Blaise. He stares off out of the window. Everything should be fine. His mother's at home, father is in Azkaban, nothing really bothering him. Except for the fact Potter will never love him. It hurts being so close, yet oh so far away. His heart aches with stupid fantasies his mind creates and the happy dreams he has before being thrown back into the painful reality that is his own.

Harry is sitting by the fire, little sparks fly out almost hitting his robes. Sometimes he thinks of himself as a fire. Burning hot and fast, needing constant management or he will go out in a slow burn. His eyes wander around the common room. His eyes land on that blond hair again. He's never really appreciated the way it shines with the sunlight hitting it the way it is.

"Ouch," a rogue ash settles on his hand slightly burning it. He just shakes his palm and scoots back. It's the eighth year free period. Nothing for anyone after lunch. Just a time to hang out with what remaining classmates he has. He doesn't want to remember all the people he's lost to the war. He never wanted them to go like that. Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius, Fred, so many people he cared about. All because of some stupid prophecy he never wanted to be apart of.

He sighs when Hermione and Ron stand up. That means it's time for potions, even without Snape it's still hell.

He meanders down the hall not really paying attention to his best friends. His mind is to preoccupied with blond hair and death.

He doesn't even know how he got to the hallway. He doesn't remember directing his feet to move to the classroom.

More or less an autopilot that carries him down there. He's not paying attention which he maybe should be, first years are scurrying around him trying not run into the obviously distracted Boy Who Lived.

With a slam and a slight yelp, he falls to the floor.

"Potter? Are you alright?" Harry looks up, is his hair blond or white? He can't tell the sun is too bright. Draco offers his hand to the boy on the floor and waits for either rejection or his warm palm.

"I suppose." Harry looks at the outstretched hand skeptically. He just blinks and takes the hand. Draco pulls him up to a standing position.

"Good. Now watch where you're going next time. I'm sure others won't be as nice." Harry laughs. Malfoy, nice? Those two do not seem like they should be in the same paragraph, let alone sentence.

"Thanks, Malfoy." Harry looks down and notices their hands are still clasped. But, he doesn't make any move to detach them. Just stares. Malfoy's hand is so pale against his darker skin.

Draco coughs and pulls his hand away. He turns and looks down the hall.

"Potter, we're um... going to be late." Harry looks up and drops his hand to his pocket.

"Oh, yes. Potions. My favorite," Harry rolls his eyes and starts walking. Draco follows slightly behind, his face burning with a blush and his hand twitching by his side with the residual warmth. Goddamn Potter and his soft hands.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy. So wonderful of you to join us. Sit in the table over there and turn to page one-forty-six. You two will be partners." Harry just nods at Slughorn's words while Draco's stomach jumps.

He slowly takes out his book and sits with his chair as far away from Harry as possible.

Harry barely listens when Slughorn says what they're making. Glad that Draco was listening. At least someone knows what to do.

"Harry!" Draco whispers when he starts doodling on the parchment.

"Yes," He drawls. Not catching Draco's mess up. Draco's cheeks flush and he coughs.

"Potter, are you even listening?" Harry just shakes his head and turns to face him.

"Merlin, you're a lost cause." He mumbles and they set off to making the potion.