The Chosen One ~Drarry (Finished)

A face in the dark (Harry)

"I'm telling you, he's up to something Hermione!" I retorted angrily.  We were stood in the middle of Gryffindor common room, alone except for a random first year hiding in the corner, a book over his face like a shield.

"Or he's just being Malfoy, Harry" she replied, rolling her eyes. "We couldn't put it past him to exaggerate the truth to Crabbe and Goyle."

"Yeah, but this time it's different! Come on, he wont show anyone his arms, he skipped Quidditch again today, and you saw what happened in Madame Malkins!" Hermione and Ron looked at each other, and I knew what expression they were doing, the Harry's gone mad, let's just go along with it to shut him up look. "Fine, if you want to ignore what could potentially be very dangerous, do, I don't care. But I know something's up, so I'm going to keep following him on the map and try and stop him."

"You mean stalk him" chuckled Ron, making my face glow bright red. I knew what he was hinting at and scowled at him. I did not fancy Draco Malfoy at all, he was a git. 

"No!" I said hotly. But my friends just kept laughing, so I stood up and walked away, storming off down the corridor. I couldn't believe how stupid they were being- Hermione was meant to be the brightest witch of our age for God's sake, how could she be blind to the potentially life threatening problem of Draco being a Deatheater? And Ron, who had hated Draco just as much as me, was being dangerously ignorant. I knew I wasn't the smartest, but when I had a hunch, I was usually right. I had proved this in the past, why couldn't anyone trust me now? Without realising, I'd managed to stomp all the way outside, and found my breath swirling in clouds in front of me and frost beneath my feet. Sighing, I turned to go inside, stopping abruptly when I heard the almost inaudible sound of someone quietly sniffing. "Hello?" They became silent, but something rustled in the bushes, and out of curiosity, I pushed them apart, expecting to see a heartbroken girl, crying over her boyfriend, or perhaps a weird sounding fox. Instead, sat alone, was a boy I knew very well. "Malfoy?"

He whipped round, and glared malevolently at me. I took in his flushed cheeks and red rimmed eyes, the normally silver iris looking bright blue in contrast. Automatically, I looked down at his arms, and sure enough they were covered, white tips poking out from his heavy black coat. "Potter" he said monotonously, watching my eyes carefully.

"What are you doing?" I asked suspiciously. It was then that I looked around him, and saw something that made my heart stop. "And why are you covered in blood?" He twitched his arms away from me, but I grabbed them, feeling that they were also wet.

"Yeah, because I'm really going to tell you, Potter" he spat, as I eyed him with dislike. "Just go back to bed like a good boy, and leave me the hell alone."

"No chance" I replied stubbornly, the grip on his arm vice-like. I felt warmth, and when the palm of my hand began to get stained with something unappealingly red, I knew exactly what the mess was, and felt sick. "I know you're up to something, and I think I know what." I started to push up his left sleeve, but he threw himself away from me, and I jumped back, as his skin grew red hot to the touch. I cursed, examining my sore hand, as he hastily rolled down his sleeve, shaking visibly. "Why wont you let me see your arm Malfoy?"

"Why the fuck would I go round stripping for you, Chosen boy? Besides, I don't want your filthy hands on me."

"Your hands are dirtier than mine" I remarked, pointing at his muddy palms and dirty fingernails. "Blood on your hands Malfoy" I whispered, making sure he knew exactly what I meant. 

He shuddered and stood up, holding his arms out directly in front of him as if he couldn't bear to be near them, but twitching when I stepped forward again. "Back off Potter. You've had enough murder in your family." I took in what he said, and yelled, drawing my wand and pointing it directly at his heart, ignoring Hermione's voice in my subconscious, saying "Don't rise to his bait Harry!" . We were both breathing heavily, looking at the tip of my wand, burning a hole through Malfoy's school jumper like a cigarette burn. "Well, go on Potter. Fight me."