Scared Potter? (Sequel - a Drarry Fanfiction)

Chapter 10 - Friends or flowers

Writers note: Sorry guys, I was on holiday for two weeks and had to pull myself back together. It was a bumpy ride, but I'm fine. Let's continue! Tried my best to find a fitting gif, but I decided to just pick this one, otherwise it'll take another week before I post this. Lol

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Harry stumbled over a root as he stared at the high gates, catching his fall with his hands to keep his face from smashing against the ground. The manor was marvelous: as big as the public muggle school he used to go to before he was invited to Hogwarts. Why would one need such space for one family? His shirt was stuck to his back, sweat sliding out of his hairline down to his brow. The bus drive had been awful. The air had been thick. He swore the driver forgot to turn off the heater (why the fuck was it on in the first place? It was bloody summer). A car honked. He quickly got back on his feet as he brushed his hands clean from grovel on his trousers. Muggles were able to drive by. He wondered if the view would be any different from the other side of the gate. Could he get behind the gate? He bit down his lip as he stared at the heavy letters above the arch. What was he doing here again? Another car drove by, honking as well, and he started to fear it would catch the Malfoy's attention. With a quick pace he walked along side the high fence (this time on the look-out for roots) until he reached a bushy area with no road attached. He exhaled deeply, staring at a tree he wanted to climb - wondering if he'd lost his mind.

He gave in to his guilty conscience, yet followed his actions and within minutes he sat inside a tree, peaking into the Malfoy's backgarden, trying to get a glimpse of the blonde. This was stalking. What would happen if he got caught?

After fifteen minutes of dodging branches something finally moved at the back door. Draco walked out, wearing a black suit missing his jacket, a bordeaux velvet tie hanging from around his neck - his black cotton shirt only half-buttoned. He ran his hand through his hair, visibly sighing before he sat down at the iron garden set. A silver necklace stuck to his porcelain pale chest. Harry clutched himself against the tree, nearly losing his breath and balance as his heartbeat rose. This look. He nearly bit his bottom lip raw.

Draco was speaking to someone. He sucked in his lower lip as he gestured with his hands, appearing to feel troubled. Harry hoped to pick up his voice, yet couldn't make the words. If Draco was talking to his father, and he would be caught, he'd be dead. Draco fetched a paperback from his backpocket, flipping it open, and placed his arm on the table so he could use it to lean on it with his forehead. His hair wasn't taken care of this time. It hung fluffy before his eyes and Harry wished he could pet it. He seemed tired, bothered, and in need of a drink. If only Harry could provide him.

After a minute of swooning someone else came outside. Theodore Nott. A fellow Slytherin Student (a guy Harry didn't know Draco was close with). Theodore came from a pureblood family. He was a slender, tall figure, dark haired and eyed with a defining jawline and an endless expression of sadness or pain. Apart from that Harry had no other information about the guy. He was a ghost, a loner walking in the shadow as of today.

Theodore took place behind him, placing his hand onto his shoulder to give him a squeeze, and leaned over to point at something in the book. Draco's expression changed and he grinned as he looked up over his shoulder, their faces so close it made Harry's stomach turn. What were they doing? What were they talking about? Harry leaned in closer, branches softly crying under his touch, and he bit his lower lip again (this time in slight anger). Nott commented something, still inaudible, and leaned back - sliding his hand down Draco's chest, if just an inch, touching his skin bare, before he let go. Infamous signs of affection.

That's it.

Harry gasped for breath, his blood boiling, and he leaned in closer - wanting to shout - and a loud snap followed.

The boys looked up, Nott in fear, Draco with suspicion, but there was nothing to see. The tree was hastily waving at them, a big piece missing, leaves dropping, yet nothing seemed out of order.

Harry was down on the ground, groaning as he rubbed his lower back - jealousy and pain momentarily shutting down his lungs. Harry wanted to grab his wand, create a distraction with magic, yet knew he couldn't. This wasn't what he wanted, yet again, he didn't know what he wanted any more.

He had to go. Hopefully it wasn't a problem if Harry arrived a day early at the Weasleys. This had been a mistake.