The Artist

Chapter 8

Harry sat next to Draco with a flush on his pale face, the younger Malfoy grasped Potter's knee; inching his hand dangerously too high for my liking. I scowled at the two, reciving a harsh glare from the blond wizard. Lucius entered the room and caught what I staring at and coughed to catch his sons eyes.

"I have called this meeting because I have a wonderful plan! It has come to my attention that our young hero is an artist. I truly appreciate fine art and that's why I have comprised this-"

"Get your bloody hands off of his thigh!" I bark at Draco.

Draco stands up in a fit of rage and walks to the other couch. I move over to Harry, placing myself beside him and giving a cocky smirk when my Harry snuggles against my chest. Draco's blue eyes show some distant hurt, but it's gone to hatred before I could make a clear look.

"Why does it matter if my hands on his thigh? His mouth with be on my-"

"DRACO!" Lucius shrilled.

I felt my rage build and I want to call this meeting off as soon as possible, but Harry seems interested in this conversation. I mutter something about the lack of control in his mouth and the only that's going in his mouth is my fist....

I never knew I was so violent......
Well Draco was talking about...
I understand that, but I didn't need to be so harsh.

"As I was saying, Harry... May I see your sketch book?" Lucius spoke softly to Harry.

He glanced down at the notepad, there was a sadness in his emerald eyes and I can tell that parting from that book would hurt him. He shakes his head, but carefully raises his hand.

"I can show you after the meeting. I would rather one on one with my book, it's very special to me and I.... it's hard to explain..."

"I understand." Now here's the plan.

I'm not going to like it.....