The Thunder in My Heart

'McGonagall Likes to Know Where I am at all Times'

Draco was delighted that Hermione had invited him to her birthday meal, admittedly she'd invited everyone in year eight, but he imagined that she might have only invited a selected few.

'I don't know what to get her, she's your bestfriend, you must be able to give me some ideas,' he whined to Harry across the steam from their cauldron. It was making Harry's hair wilder than usual.

'Well, I have got an idea and I was wondering if everyone would be interested in clubbing together. Tomes and Scrolls had an early edition of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in ancient runes, for sale in their shop.'

'Oh wow!'

'Yeah. She would absolutely love it. I could get it by myself but, I don't know, we don't normally spend that much on each other and I thought it would be really meaningful from all of us.'

'I think it's a great idea, do you want me to approach the others? I know it's quite difficult to get you two apart.'

It was true. Draco was finding it remarkably difficult to get one-to-one time with Harry; it seemed that every time he saw him; Hermione was joined at the hip to him. He was beginning to wonder if Harry was right and that she and Blaise were plotting something. It seemed that a constant chaperone was on purpose because whenever she disappeared off to the library alone, Blaise would suddenly appear at his side. Currently, he was making use of a quiet moment in Potions to talk to Harry. He and Harry were brewing Draught of Living Death together and Hermione and Blaise were currently working with some seventh years.

'I can arrange to pick it up for you too if you're struggling,' Draco was rather keen to see such a treasure.

Harry's eyes glinted like gems, 'it's already in my room, if you're interested.'

Later that evening, as Draco was finishing up his Arithmancy homework, he was startled by the appearance of a ghostly silver stag in his room, the wisp of the Patronus leapt about his room before coming to a halt in front of him and gazing directly at him with silvery eyes. Bloody Potter! He thought to himself. The stag whispered, 'come to my room. The coast is clear.'

Draco was already through his door and stepping over Hermione's cat which was loitering in the corridor outside his door and had his hand on Harry's door handle before he realised his heart was thumping in his chest from being summoned by the Chosen One. You're behaving with un-Malfoy-ish enthusiasm and ludicrously chasing after him, suggested the little voice in his head. He pretended to ignore it, he just didn't want to be making the man wait. He was already pushing open the door to the room mirroring his before he wondered how Harry knew that no one was around.

The room smelt of parchment and quidditch leather and undeniably of Harry. He glanced around, it was an absolute mess of clutter, parchments, books, quidditch paraphernalia, photographs, and... 'Potter, how come you get a larger room and a king-size bed?' he drawled as Hermione's devil-cat shot between his legs, leapt up onto Harry's bed and began making puddings on the cover.

Harry looked up in surprise. 'That was quick, I didn't even notice you leave your room...' he muttered. He was bent over a large piece of intricately folded parchment, it appeared to be the blueprint of a building. 'And aren't you a wizard, aren't we taught charms and transfiguration for a purpose? I get a king-size because I moved my furniture around and enlarged my double, though the room seems to have accommodated it with what I assume is the same magic as the Room of Requirement.'

Draco raised his eyebrows. He supposed Harry had a valid argument there. He never knew the man had that sort of clear-headed level of thinking. He threw himself onto the unmade bed next to the cat and nestled amongst a sensuously soft turquoise-green throw not caring about the mess or the books strewn about (well, if it was good enough for the cat...). 'What have you got there?' he drawled.