Draco's POV
Lessons are getting stupider. Especially Transfigurations. When the Professor said vanishing invertebrates, I thought maybe we'd try earthworms or something like that. But no, a jellyfish lies on my table. I have no fear of jellyfish, but it's disgusting!
"Remember to keep away from the stingers and the tentacles," McGonagall warns.
Crabbe pokes the soft head of his specimen with the tip of his wand repeatedly. It makes a squishy-squelch sound (which I truly abhor), so I hit him and tell him to stop it.
"Abra Cadabra!" Weasley shouts, and the entire class stares at him. "What? It's worth a try."
Potter is beside him. He's shaking his legs that are tucked behind his chair and he boredly uses his finger to poke at the slimy, floppy head. Doesn't he know that's dangerous?
Since when do I care?
That Weasel accidentally knocks the elbow of Potter and his hand touches a stinger. "Ow!" he shouts really loudly, jumping in his seat. His knee knocks the bottom of the desk and the stingers that dangle from the edge brush against his lap. "Grahh!" he shouts.
Instantly, I want to rise and comfort him but a millisecond later I yell a big, "AHH!" of my own. A hot rush of fire whips up my back to my neck, and immediately I hear apologies from Goyle.
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry Draco, I was shocked and I flicked my wand and a stinger hit you and---"
"Goyle!" I shout, fingers reaching my neck.
Professor McGonagall tells us to calm down and orders the trouble making redhead and Pansy to get us to the infirmary. Yeah, easier said than done. How about I shove a big fat stinger up your ass, heartless bitch. Bloody hell, it really hurts. Pansy takes my arm and we leave the class.
Harry clenches his jaw whilst I clench my fist and together we hiss at the pain. Pansy strokes my arm, which is surprisingly comforting and Potter's best mate bounces on the infirmary bed with a heavy landing.
"It'll be ok, Draco," she reassures. I thank her. But not without reaffirming that it doesn't hurt that much, which is a complete lie.
Madam Pomfrey asks, "Now, what's the matter with you two again, a fight?"
The Gryffindor prefect stands and simply tells her it's Pink Totem Jellyfish stings.
"Oh, really?" she says. "Oh my, never had that before." She thinks for a bit. "Why don't you two prefects head back to class, and I'll think of something." Pansy rolls her eyes at the obvious fact that she has to walk with Ron Weasley. They leave the ward and keep a distance of a metre from each other. Wouldn't it be awkward for the two of them to be together? I chuckle once and the pain eats at my skin again.
"I don't know what'll cure the injury yet, but I know that I can help you ease the pain a bit. You boys rest up while I do a bit of reading." She waves her wand and about five strips of bandage-like things slip out from a drawer far away and fly to her open palm. She peels off a paper layer from one side of a strip and says to me, "I'll start with you first. Now, take off your cloak and your vest and your shirt."
"My shirt?"
My shirt?
"Of course! How will I put this on your back if you don't take it off? Come on, you're both boys, nothing to be shy about."
But this is Potter! I have dignity to keep. Taking my shirt off is like giving him a free show! I mean, I know I want to shag him silly (which definitely requires the stripping of clothes), but this is bloody unfair. It's so bloody weird, with this Pomfrey standing about.
I cast a sidelong glance at him. A very proud feeling overcomes me when he tries not to look but can't help himself and he can't blink for a second. So I take off my cloak, pull my vest over my head, undo that ridiculous tie that the school makes us wear, and unbutton my shirt. I realise that it's very difficult to make it a nice show of things, and I keep a straight posture, because it will hurt if I don't. My back is so stiff. My hands unconsciously rub my thighs.
My composure is ruined when she slaps the piece on my wound and pushes the rest down my back in a fast, hard motion. Shit, that stings! I frown, but relax after I feel menthol spreading outwards from my spine. It still feels awkward, shirtless in an infirmary next to your almost-lover. I lean back against a pillow and inspect my own body.
Hey, Draco Malfoy is still a total package, and I sense that Harry Potter wants to get his hands on MY package, I'm sure of it. Because I want my hands on his package too.
When the nurse says, "It's your turn, Harry," I realise that everything is fair after all.
"You have to take off your pants."
We both say, "What?!" at the same time. Oops.
Well, close your eyes if you're so particular, then."
"No, no, we're all boys anyway." I can't help but grin.
He stands from the bed and unbuckles his belt uneasily, but quickly. He glances at me and with my megawatt beam, I wink. Whoosh, he blushes, and something twitches in my groin. Potter sits back down once his pants hit the floor.
My, my, Potter.
All I can say is that I do like his very toned thighs.
Something tugs at my heart when I see the red welts and sores on his inner thigh. That's something to cuss about. It looks like he's been lashed with a whip. Whip: that's an idea. But appealing as the whole BDSM kink goes, it fades when he turns his face away and Madam Pomfrey sticks it on his skin, both thigh and hand. The shocking emotion of me wanting to comfort him is truly disturbing.
"That stings like a bitch!" he says. It's the first time I've heard him use that word.
"Mind your language, boy."
I observe. He must feel really awkward too, having not taken his cloak off, sitting in his underwear. It's funny. And it's quite sexy of him. It's excellent blackmail material, if I could take a picture. At least I'm the only one (and Madam Pomfrey) to see him in such an exquisite, embarrassed state.
Just when the thought crosses my mind, I start to feel sleepy. Before I know it, Potter is the last thing I see before I lapse into sweet oblivion.
Perfect.
When I wake up, Potter is already awake. I've appeared to have slipping down into a lying position, so I prop myself back up again. It's already dark and well into the evening. Dinner, perhaps. There are signs of a lot of life from far away.
"You ok?" Potter asks.
"I'm ok." I don't ask about him. "Not that bad anymore. At least we missed lessons."
He nods. "Charms, then Potions. Glad to miss them."
Comfortable pause. I feel very comfortable when we're alone. With no one around. Just the two of us.
Haha.
"Nice legs, by the way," I say.
"You're not s'bad yourself," he replies.
Long pause. "…Gods, Potter, kiss me already."
I throw the blanket over the rail and get out of bed. "Malfoy, you're nuts," he says with a smile. "Batty."
"Very, very horny."
"Wait, I want to talk about something." He raises his hand to stop me. I sit on his bed. It has no rails.
You want to talk?!
"I'm new to this… This gay thing." He looks at his glasses on a table separating our beds. "I'm not happy about what you told me the other day. And I do believe that it's going to take some time to get used to you."
"Are you saying you're taking me in?"
"Let me finish, will you, bloody prat? I'm going to say that I do like girls and have this terrible attraction to you only. And I don't know why… So I suggest we keep our distance."
"And stay away from you? Keep our distance? Don't you ever realise that our bodies belong together? You really piss me off, you know. You always tell me things like, 'I'm not gay, I'm not gay'. You're a bloody queer, ok? Get a grip, pillock."
He gets very mad and defensive. "It's not that simple!"
"Feelings are complicated. I don't have feelings. I have desires. There's so much of it for you, and I can't stand it."
As we talk, our faces get closer. And as our faces get closer, we stop talking and lean in for a kiss.
Bang. The doors swing open. "Oh DAMN, why do I ALWAYS catch you two snogging?"
Weasel again. I sigh, and drop my head. "We didn't kiss, you dumbarse, because you interrupted," I respond grumpily. Then I realise something. He knows about Potter and I? "You know about us?"
He ignores me. Harry nods. Pomfrey comes in. "Alright! I know the cure."
Ron says, "I need to go to the bathroom first. We'll talk about some quidditch problems later."
"Oh!" the nurse exclaims. "Do me a favour, will you dear?" Then she whispers a few things in his ear. His eyes widen first, then reluctantly, he nods. My ward mate and I look at each other.
A few minutes later, Weasley returns. Madam Pomfrey prepares a few things for us, then later removes the strips from our wounds (quite painfully).
"Harry, someone new came into the team, not our team, and he's not really new. Actually, he's really a veteran." Then they start whispering which makes me annoyed.
Pomfrey drizzles something down my back. It feels like my wounds have reopened and there's a faint, familiar smell. She does the same to Harry. Weasel is looking very suspicious.
"Alright, we're done! You should be ok in a few hours."
"What is that?" I ask. Potter has stopped his discussion. He blinks at me a few times. It sends a shiver down my healing spine. He licks his lips. I almost groan.
"Pink Totem Jellyfish stings are alkaline in nature, I read. It's rather scientific. You need something acidic to counteract the effects." Ron squeezes his eyes shut. "So I asked your friend to help me when he went to the bathroom."
A look of sheer horror passes Harry's face.
What? She just poured Ron Weasley's piss down my neck?
Fucking disgusting! I decide to take at least 26 cold showers tonight. 26 because it should be enough to clear traces of him on my body, and cold because I keep thinking about Potter in his checkered boxers. It's going to keep me from sleep all night.
I never, ever touch myself because I prefer to leave the relieving to the person himself. It's like a personal triumph thing. Relief will be soon enough, I hope. It'd better be soon, because it's getting very difficult not reach down and start fondling. You drive me CRAZY!
Dumbledore announces the inaugural 'difference days'. Never said what it's about or when it's going to happen, just that it's sometime after Christmas. He just says it's three days long, and it'll be a very interesting surprise. You know what will be really interesting? Me shagging Potter. I've been thinking about it so much last night. Gods, he's a real gem.
In the meantime, my eyes scan for Potter. He's eating, but his eyes are fixed behind me. So are Greg's, so are Vince's, so are Pansy's. I turn around.
"Ay, Draco," Marcus Flint says. He makes space between Pansy and I. "Haven't seen you for awhile." He looks older, much. His teeth have improved somewhat. The former quidditch captain (who I used to have a posse with in the past until he graduated) throws his arm around me and gives the side of my arm a good rub. "Haven't seen you in a long, long time."
Note from Perr: Bad news. It may seem terribly inhuman of us to stop, but there's going to be one more chapter left that I wrote (Draco's POV) that I'm going to post up. Jas and I have decided to leave this story alone becuase 1)it breaches my beliefs, therefore I must stop, and 2)Jas just can't bring herself to write anymore. Even if I'm stepping out of the slashy part of fanfiction, I'll still be writing, just on other things. And fandom. Jasmine is still nuts about HPDM, I don't get why she isn't all that compelled to write.
So, we're both truly sorry for pumping you all up (the anticipation was really appreciated!) then deflating you. It's been a real great time writing about Draco and his evil thoughts about Harry xD. Thanks to everyone that supported us!
PS.I don't mind if someone else wants to continue it for me. But it's hard work!