The Scent Of Malice | drarry

three | a solitary butterfly

"I suppose you've come to tell me the news," Ginny said sulkily the second Harry's head appeared in the doorway of the Common Room.

"The- the news?" he asked, surprised.

"About you and your thing for Malfoy. Fuck you, by the way. I thought we had something serious. Thought you might ask me to be your girlfriend soon." She shook her head with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "But all this time, you were faking it."

"Ginny, I wasn't!" Harry protested. His cheeks flamed. They weren't even alone in the Common Room, he hated her for making a scene. "I just came to see you this evening because I like you-"

"Please." She laughed unkindly. "Did you think about him every time we did it, or just most times? If you closed your eyes, could you pretend I had blonde hair?"

"You're being very unfair, Ginny. I don't know what you heard, but-"

"Oh, I heard enough. Your Amortentia smell is Dior Sauvage and green apple. Really subtle, Harry. Bloody original."

"I didn't ask for this to happen, Ginny!" Harry snapped. "You know it isn't something I'd have any control over! And for your information, I don't think I feel anything for him consciously and I would far rather be with you. But you're being really nasty about this."

"So it's true, then? You aren't even going to try and deny it?"

Harry groaned. "It's true that I smelt what you think I smelt in my Amortentia, yes. But let me assure you, Ginny, that as far as I am aware, I still feel nothing but hatred for that boy. I'm bloody straight! I think."

"I can't believe this. How do you think it felt, Harry, to hear the news from a fucking Second Year?" Ginny demanded, tucking her red hair aggressively behind her ears.
"To find out in the Great Hall from a thirteen-year-old that the boy I've been seeing is gay, for someone he told me was his 'mortal enemy'. I look like a bloody mug now, don't I?"

"It's been one day since that fucking lesson and I only told Ron and Hermione, I've got no idea how that even got round so fast!" Harry glared, bemused. "They wouldn't have told anybody."

"Then I suppose you were overheard," snapped Ginny. "That's not my problem, Harry."

"I don't know what your problem is, to be honest, Ginny," Harry frowned. "I've been thinking about it and I've realised it doesn't have to mean anything-"

"Maybe not to you!" Ginny's eyes brimmed with angry tears. "But I really liked you, Harry. So it matters to me. And it matters to everyone else."

"Ok, fine, so you care what everyone thinks. And everyone knows, do they?"

Ginny nodded.

"Fantastic," said Harry sarcastically. "Really cool. Good chat, Gin. Let's do it again sometime."

And with that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the Common Room to get some air, breathing heavily with frustration as he did so.

God, when Malfoy finds out, I'm fucked. Not literally, but I'm in a lot of trouble. Maybe I should bloody move schools.

He became aware of a few weird stares as he walked down the corridors, weirder than normal, that was. So Ginny was right. Everyone did know already.

It was only once he was outside in the fresh air that Harry realised he was crying a little. Mortified, he glanced around quickly to ensure that no one else was around; thankfully they weren't.

He made his way up a steep slope towards the forest, where he found a rock to lean against with his back to the castle.

And there, in the haven provided by the shade, he allowed himself to fully burst into tears.

It felt to Harry like the situation would've been less wildly unfair if he actually knew he liked Malfoy. What did that bloody potion know that he didn't?

He slid down onto his knees in the grass and forced himself to think of Malfoy in that way, in a sexual way. To think of him stripped, think about running his own hands all over that toned bare skin, his muscled Seeker figure, reaching right up and kissing him on that cruel red mouth.

The image wasn't as unpleasant as he'd expected, just unfamiliar. But it didn't do anything special for him.

Harry screwed up his eyes in focus, determined to think harder.

He pictured Malfoy's body against his own, behind his own, his long ringed fingers tangled through Harry's dark hair, his hot breath in his ear breathing out "Good boy" as he bent him over the bed...

The smallest flicker of a butterfly began to rise in his stomach, and Harry's eyes snapped open. Nope, nope, nope. Not happening.

He scrambled to his feet, as if that would help keep the feeling down. It was gone as soon as it had started, barely imperceptible - certainly nowhere near Amortentia levels of attraction. And certainly nothing like what he'd felt for Ginny before. But there was something, even a tiny something.

I could probably give myself that tiny feeling over Ron if I thought that hard, for fuck's sake, Harry convinced himself, and though it was a weird picture, it actually relieved him a little. He didn't fancy Draco Malfoy. He was still himself.

Harry wiped his eyes gently under his glasses, and sighed heavily. He was still crying, even while fantasising.

"What have you done to me, Malfoy?" he wondered aloud.

After a few more minutes he began to get cold and decided it was time to head back down to the castle; not to dinner, though. He didn't want to risk seeing Malfoy, as it was entirely likely he'd heard "the news" too, as Ginny had put it.

Hopefully Ron and Hermione would understand, and if not, he found it hard to care. This wasn't their problem to deal with, and they didn't understand how massive it was to him already.

Or how massive it would become.
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a/n: thanks for reading!

how do you guys think this is going to develop? i feel like i know exactly how it's gonna work but i wanna see what you guys think:))

the next chapter is going to be draco's confrontation... sit tight for some spicy drarry angst!

~ paradisedraco