𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 | drarry

10. Implict Demand For Proof

Three weeks have gone by and Hermione still didn't say anything about what she read that day to Harry, she kept it a secret because maybe it could be a small hint to the cure.

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Draco's POV

Draco, on the other hand was practically suffering. The visions were becoming more than just erotic, they were also becoming, well, sweet. But Draco despised it, at least he thought he did. And every single time he was near the Gryffindor git butterflies erupting in his stomach and Draco didn't know how to cope with such a thing. He's never felt like this before with absolutely no one. Therefore, he was practically falling apart.

Now he tried to stay away from Harry in any way humanly possible, but some times Harry wouldn't let him. Because Hermione said that being near each other would helped find a cure... Whatever she meant by that. 

Draco didn't want to find a cure anymore, well he did, but he was too exhausted to carry one any longer. The recurring dreams of Harry was slowly festering with his mind set, finding it hard to focus on whatever goal he had in mind.

Draco wanted to tell Harry what was going on, although he was way to afraid of how Harry would end up reacting. Oh, but the urge to just move on Harry's arms was eating Draco away. He couldn't just do that though. Weeks have gone by and not a single touch was exchanged by the two. The thought it self made Draco groan in self pity.

Draco not so hurriedly made his way out of the eery Slytherin common room, trudging down the corridors of the school in hope to find Harry or Hermione if she knows the slightest detail on how to find the first step of the cure.

He didn't find the frizzy head girl anywhere, not even the library where he was sure she would be there. He sighed out, turning around on his heel forgetting about his task until he saw the brunette standing in a group of others.

Draco hesitantly made his way in Harry's direction, feeling sort of small in the group of Gryffindors. He tugged on Harry's sleeve cautiously, making the other turn around. "Draco, what do you need?"

"Malfoy? What would you be doing with Malfoy?" Oliver Wood said with a snicker.

"Don't bother, Oliver." Harry placed a hand on Draco's back, guiding him out of the crowd and Draco couldn't deny the small sparks that went up his spine at the touch from Harry.

Once where no one could possibly hear them, Draco sucked in a breath and spoke. "I want to talk to Granger."

"Why?" Harry questioned.

"Because I think she knows something. It's been almost four weeks now," he pointed out.

"I guess you're right, it would make sense. Here, I'll take you to her."

Draco nodded and sighed out in relief as he followed behind Harry. If only Harry actually knew what Draco has been thinking of these past weeks it would be totally different between them now. Either good or bad and the thought made a blush crept on to Draco's pale cheeks.

Draco didn't notice where he was going until a picture of a Fat Lady appeared in his view. He wasn't even paying attention enough to hear the words mumble out of Harry's mouth that opened the portrait. Harry grinned charmingly, walking in with Draco following behind and sure enough Hermione was sitting in the red couch with books piled around her.

"Hermione," Harry called out, making her head turn in their direction. A smile was plastered on her face once she saw the two and Draco didn't understand why.

"Come come!" She birched, sliding her books out of the way with her delicate fingers. "I have some news... That I was reluctant on telling, but I think it's time now."

Draco raised an eyebrow at that, going to sit in between Hermione and Harry on the couch.

"Okay well," she started. "I've been doing a lot of research lately and I've recently discovered that the tongue has, obviously, a huge roll in the language parseltongue; as its in the name."

Draco almost immediately started to blush, hoping it wasn't going where he thought it was heading. He fumbled with his fingers as the anxiety ate him away at Hermione's words.

"The tongue? Okay, what does that have to do with it?" Harry asked.

Hermione huffed out, tapping the hard cover of her book in her lap with her fingernails. "Um, yeah, that part... Well, first of all you should know something about Draco's symptoms that come with the curse."

Draco desperately wanted to walk away, he wanted to hide in his room and never come out. He didn't know wether to feel grateful or embarrassed.

"And that is...?" Harry urged her on.

"Draco, sort of has dreams about you. Almost like visions. But it only happens with another person who can speak parseltongue naturally. Like if you didn't speak it, then Draco would have this visions."

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing at Draco from the corner of his eyes. He noticed the blonde blushing. "And what kind of visions?"

The Hermione started blushing herself, stuttering to find her words to tell Harry accurately. "Well, these visions are rather... Sexual..." She finally managed to blurt out.

"Sexual?" Harry said in merely disbelief. "Draco is basically having wet dreams? Over me?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, well when you put it like that." 

Draco stood up, eager to leave the room which was filled with unexplainable tension. But as he tried to walk away a hand grabbed his shirt, making him sit back down.

"Oh no, you are not going anywhere." Harry's voice nearly seemed threatening, making Draco cower in embarrassment. "Why didn't you tell me this?"

Draco knew this was the reaction he was going to get from Harry when he knew about the dreams, unfortunately.
He didn't know what to say to him, he just kept quiet, looking at the ground. Thankful that Hermione finally spoke up again, clearing her throat.

"Calm down, Harry. It can be undone."

"How?" He snapped.

Hermione had extreme hesitance in her sentence. "That's the part you're probably not going to like."