Unexpected But Welcomed

Prefects Bathroom

Draco sank into the deep pool of the prefect's bathroom. The smell of bergamot was intoxicating in his nostrils. He breathed in deeping, letting his head fall back to rest on the ledge behind him. He couldn't get what happened tonight out of his head, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to. His heart raced as he recalled the way Potter had grabbed his chin, The intensity of those eyes looking into his own as if he had been searching for something.

Draco twirled his long, pale fingers in the frothy water as he willed his heart rate to return to normal. He was majorly overreacting. Sure, he had always craved Potter's friendship, but he had never expected it to leave him wanting something more. Draco scoffed at the thought. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? Why was he thinking like this? He had never had thoughts like this before about anyone, especially not a bloke, especially not about Potter, who's full lips and tanned skin seemed very appealing to Draco right now. He groaned out loud, the sound echoing, bouncing off the walls of the large room.

He stood up in the water and climbed out. He dried himself off quickly and stumbled as he pulled his trousers on. This bath was supposed to clear his head, calm his nerves. But all Draco got from this experience was that he had a serious problem on his hands.

He didn't bother to button his shirt up all the way. He was going to change into his bedclothes the moment he got to his room anyway. The white collared shirt was unbuttoned to right below his sternum, and goosebumps blossomed across the transparent expanse of his pale chest ashe stepped out into the drafty corridor. The sound of his shoes tapping on the marble floors seemed obnoxiously loud in the otherwise silent hallway.

"Malfoy?" a voice came from behind him. He whipped around, wand drawn. Potter gasped, eyebrows raised. Draco's wand was centimeters away from the tip of Potter's nose. He took a step back, tucking his wand safely back into his pocket.

"I was going to ask what you were doing up so late, but judging by your wet hair, I'd say you just showered." Potter chuckled, those striking green eyes trailed lazily up and down Draco's body. He was suddenly hyper aware of his unbuttoned shirt.

"You've been in the prefect's bathroom." Harry said.

"Yeah? And how do you know?" Draco asked, cursing himself for his own laziness.

"Well, I've been in there loads of times myself." Potter paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "And you smell wonderful."

Draco's stomach fluttered and he hoped that Potter couldn't hear his heart thundering away in his chest.

"Well, what are you doing out so late?" The blonde asked, noting how Potter's eyes lingered on the exposed skin on Draco's chest.

"I came to visit Ms. Norris actually." Potter said, and as if on cue, the crusty old cat darted out from behind a bench, purring and lovingly circling the Gryffindor's ankles. He reached down and scratched the feline behind the ears.

Draco found it odd that the two had been bumping into each other so often. He stopped that thought before his imagination could run with it.

"Well, I best be on then." Draco said.

"See you tomorrow?" Potter asked.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Draco replied, suppressing a smile as he turned oh his heel. He took a deep breath as he did the top four buttons on his shirt just in case he ran into someone else.

***

When Draco got to his dormitory, he sank to the floor against the door. He wondered if Potter usually noticed his scent. He brought his wrist up to his nose and took a whiff. Merlin, this is all too much. Draco got to his feet and raked his hands through his still damp hair. He hated having feelings. It was moments like this that he missed the bitter numbness of the past self he had left behind. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep his composure. He hastily undid the buttons on his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. He kicked his trousers off and replaced them with a pair of clean, grey joggers, a muggle article that he had grown quite fond of.

He threw himself onto his bed. "This is too fucking much." he muttered to himself. Draco didn't usually curse, it was very uncharacteristic of him, but his current situation made it seem appropriate. He wondered if Potter could tell what kind of thoughts were running through Draco's head when he met him in the chilly corridor. He hoped not. He didn't want Harry to think of him as just another obsessed fangirl. Draco sighed as he realized that what he was feeling was much more than that.

A/N 

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