sweetener; drarry

9; i just want to take your hand

TRACK 9
Sweet Marie
The Walters

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an: i've been so busy this week so please forgive me for being so late on these updates yiKES. also it would be MUCH appreciated if you would go and read my newest drarry fic, seahorse motel. i'm really hecking proud of it!
Harry stopped himself from thundering into the library and causing a ruckus — just. As he entered, straightening his robes and combing his hair neatly out of his eyes, he smiled upon spotting the white hair of Draco Malfoy. The boy was sat in exactly the same position he had been in the Janitor's Closet, holding a book in one hand and twirling his wand around in the other. A pang of dread shot through Harry's stomach, though he decided to ignore it and advanced on the blond. Stopping directly in front of Draco, Harry read the spine of his book and then spoke.

"Ah, another muggle book, eh?" The brunet grinned, fidgeting with his hands to try and rid himself of nerves. It didn't work.
"What is your problem with muggle things? Anybody'd think you were racist." Draco shot back, snapping his book shut skilfully with one hand as if he had done so many times before. Harry couldn't tell if the blond was teasing or not.
"So...what do you want from me?" He asked, holding Draco's stern glare.
"Bold of you to assume I want anything from the likes of you." Despite everything that Harry had learnt about Draco — and despite Draco knowing that Harry was aware of such things — the boy still managed to keep up with his atypical bully facade. The pair stared at each other for a moment before Draco continued. "Although, I would like you to answer me this."

Harry released the breath he wasn't even aware he had been holding.
"Go on, then." He said.
"Why are you and Weasley at each other's throats like a duo of drag queens?" Draco replied cooly. Harry snorted, quickly composing himself after Draco lifted a brow.
"Er—what do you mean?"
"I mean, I heard you and him screaming at each other a mile off," Draco began, "and I saw you two blanking each other on my way to the library. I want to know why."
"What do you care?" That sounded harsher than Harry had intended, and he saw the anger contort Draco's face.
"Because, Potter, you've been acting strange ever since that Boggart lesson." Draco retorted with slight hesitation at the mention of the word 'Boggart'. "And it's been driving me up the bloody wall." He added quickly. Harry stopped himself from answering without thoroughly thinking everything over, exhaling heavily as his eyes wandered over Draco's flawless face. Before he had even begun to think of something to say, a crippling realisation suddenly dawned on him.

He had a massive crush on this boy.

Harry's face flushed a deep shade of red as he clamped his hands together and shuffled his feet nervously. Anyone would've mistook him for a First Year. Draco seemed to notice the sudden change in demeanour, cocking his brow once more before exhaling frustratedly.
"See! This is exactly what I mean, Potter." The blond whipped his head upwards to flick his bangs out of his eyes. His threatening gaze landed on Harry and the boy blushed even harder. Trying hard to think of something that would obscure Malfoy's suspicions, Harry suddenly lifted his head and rushed out a sentence.
"I'm just worried about you — because of your dad, an' all." He spluttered, wincing at how forced those words had sounded. Draco recoiled — whether that be in pleasant surprise or menacing shock, Harry wasn't sure.
"I can assure you that you have nothing to fret about." The blond hissed in a dangerous snarl.

Harry suddenly felt hot as his heart began to pound more heavily than it ever had before. Even harder than when he'd fought the Basilisk less than a year prior. This was the last thing he'd wanted.
"Okay, I get it, you don't want to talk about it—"
"What do you mean, it?" Malfoy interrupted in that same, threatening sneer.
"Y'know, the abuse..." Harry almost whispered the final part of his sentence, clearly uncomfortable with the word. Narrowing his cool-blue eyes, Draco's brows knitted together as he clenched his fists. Harry was almost certain he'd be leaving the library with a black eye when a high-pitched laugh broke the silence.
"Abuse?" Draco gasped, weak with (forced) laughter. It started as a breathy chuckle that soon turned into a fit of cackles, "whatever could you mean by that?"
"The Boggart lesson, your dad attacked you with a cane!" Harry spat, furrowing his brow whilst gritting his teeth. Having often lost his temper at minute things, Potter found it almost impossible not to be absolutely furious at this.
"You don't seriously think I'm being abused?" Roaring with laughter, Draco held a hand over his stomach as if it hurt.
"I don't think you're being abused," Harry began, "I know it."

All amusement ceased at that statement.

Draco's features suddenly relaxed and he appeared incredibly sad, and Harry's heart practically lurched from his chest and into his hands. He hadn't meant to upset the blond, but he knew that he was right in confronting the boy. Surely, he had to be? Dropping his guard and stepping closer to the other, Harry sighed before placing a hand on Draco's bicep and squeezing it softly. Dread seized his being as he felt Draco flinch under his gentle grip and all of the theories in his mind were suddenly solved.
"Look, I didn't mean to come off so—"
"Arrogant? Bullheaded? Obnoxious?" Draco drawled, glaring at Harry albeit refusing to move. The brunet allowed a stifled snicker to escape his lips and smiled cheekily after hearing the pleasant scoff of Draco.
"You can let go of my arm, now." The blond rolled his eyes, picking Harry's hand off finger by finger.
"Oh, yeah, sorry." The green-eyed boy flushed, rubbing the nape of his neck sheepishly.

A few moments passed in which Draco tried hard to steal glances at Harry without being spotted, although failing miserably. The latter could've almost sworn he saw a light blush spread across Draco's pale cheeks every time he caught Harry looking back, although when the brunet spoke, all trace of pinkness on Draco's skin was gone.
"What was so urgent, anyway? Surely, it wasn't just about me and Ron?" Harry folded his arms across his chest.
"It's simple, really. I knew if I'd have put anything else, you wouldn't have come." Draco shrugged and Harry's stomach performed a heaving twist as he realised that statement may not be entirely true.

Draco returned to his seat, picking up his book and scanning the pages. Clearly, he didn't want to initiate in another conversation, so Harry left (with much hesitance).

A sickly feeling loomed inside Harry's stomach and bile rose in his throat. His chest felt icy as his heart thumped against his rib cage. He couldn't recall ever feeling quite so ill. It was a new feeling entirely, and he couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. He was so adamant in figuring out what was troubling him that he hadn't even noticed Hermione fumbling toward him until he'd bumped into her.
"Oh, Harry!" She exhaled sharply, fixing his robes before straightening her own. He simply stared at her, slightly dazed. "Could you and Ron please stop being such stubborn babies and just make up?" She hissed, furrowing her eyebrows. Anger suddenly overwhelmed Harry and all traces of sickness left his being at once.
"Not until he apologises first! I didn't even do anything wrong." Harry growled, folding his arms and facing the other way.
"Fine! Be like that, but it'll only make you miss him more."
"Miss him! Are you completely mad?" He barked, spinning on his heels so fast he almost got whiplash — but she had already thundered off to her next class.

Harry seemed to be having arguments left, right and centre — and it was really starting to take its toll.