The Green Siren

Chapter 07

Draco paced up and down the ship, arms crossed loosely over his chest, mind whirring. The sound of bottles clinking, rambunctious laughter, and water sloshing against the side of the ship was barely registered as he attempted to process the new information.

He broke it down into frank facts. Sirens existed. The Marauders existed. Captain Voldemort existed. Captain Voldemort recently escaped from the Locker. Someone might have helped him. Harry had to stop Captain Voldemort before the man became the Lord of the Lamented. Apparently, he, Draco Malfoy, played a vital part in Harry's success.

If Draco was perfectly honest, it all seemed like a dream. He expected to wake up at any moment and find himself back in his bed at the Manor. Those days seemed so far away. Despite the slight ache in his chest when his thoughts would touch upon his mother and father, Draco was surprised to realize that he didn't regret sneaking off his balcony nearly a month ago.

"I can hear the gears churning in your mind."

Draco started, his thoughts returning to the present. His head twisted around to find Harry sitting on one of the steps leading up to the helm. His hair hung loose around his angled face and his eyes seemed to glow in the shadows.

"It's a lot to take in," Draco admitted. He turned to fully face the other man. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Luna seems to think there's something especially significant about you." Harry blatantly ignored Draco's question, causing the blond to take a deep breath to calm his rippling temper.

"If you've come to interrogate me, I'm just as clueless as you are," Draco snapped.

Harry's eyes bore into his with such intensity that he was tempted to look away. Despite this, Draco forced his gaze to remain firm, refusing to let this man intimidate him. Unfortunately, this also meant that he was required to gaze into Harry's ethereally viridescent eyes. Doing so when he was attempting to train himself not to was a form of exquisite torture and served to muddle his mind. He found himself wondering why he was feeling such peculiar feelings toward Harry when he had never experienced them toward another before. He needed to snap out of it while he was still capable.

"While we're on the subject of interrogation, what did Luna mean by your father being a myth?" Draco broached, breaking the crushing silence.

"That is none of your concern," Harry replied smoothly and tersely.

Draco exhaled sharply, then headed toward the double doors that opened to the hallway that led to his room. "You're infuriating," he announced, not sparing the other man a second look.

"Funny, I seem to recall you admitting that you quite liked it," came the drawling reply.

Draco froze. His pulse quickened and he swore the blood running through his veins was poison. He spun to face Harry, who was leaning against the side of the ship, a maddening smirk on his face.

"I also seem to recall that I was inebriated." Upon a rapid skim through his memories of that night, he triumphantly added, "and you implied that you wanted me to like you."

"Have I ever claimed otherwise?"

"You did hold a loaded gun to my head," Draco sneered.

Harry tilted his head to the side. "Don't take it personally, I do that to most people I come into contact with."

"Charming," Draco muttered. He turned to retire, but Harry's voice stopped him once more.

"Have you done what I'd asked you?"

Draco didn't face him. He merely turned his chin slightly toward Harry's voice. "What do you mean?"

Slow, precise footsteps echoed across the wooden floor. Draco's eyes tracked the approaching shadow and his ears strained for any noise - only merriment from below the deck was processed. Soon, heat engulfed his back and the hairs on the nape of his neck seemed to tingle. He could barely hear the lapping waves over the blood pounding in his ears.