Eighth Year (Drarry Fanfic)

of Potions and Idle Musings

Harry kept his gaze stubbornly trained on a spot of black he'd earlier located on the dungeon walls. He'd been valiantly trying to avoid watching his Potions partner for an extended period of time because he'd ended up simply staring... and daydreaming, his thoughts moving in a direction they had absolutely no business going. It was beyond disconcerting and decidedly infuriating.

He swallowed back a troubled sigh, chin propped against his palm, the other hand mindlessly twirling a stalk of blood-red plant that he'd already forgotten the name of. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at Slughorn as the amiable Potions Professor wandered about the classroom, checking on the students' questionable brews. He irrationally blamed the old wizard for his current predicament.

"Potter." A rather sharp elbow nudged Harry's shoulder, causing his arm to wobble. "Get your pea-sized brain out of your arse and pay attention for Merlin's sake." An exasperated hiss quickly followed the painful jab.

Harry smiled in resignation and glanced at his partner. A pair of knife-like silver eyes seemed to eviscerate him as their owner cast a withering scowl at Harry. If looks could kill, he'd be dead a million times over.

Smirking, Harry nodded towards their slowly bubbling concoction. "But you're managing just fine all by yourself. Listening to you boss me about while I prepared the ingredients left me knackered, Malfoy."

Releasing an annoyed huff, Malfoy blew at the fringes falling over his eyes. "Because you were doing it all wrong, you useless twit!" He jerked his chin towards a Seventh Year's cauldron, where a horrifying neon-green blob was erratically bubbling. "I'd rather not have that happen to us."

Harry looked over and grimaced. "Isn't it supposed to be translucent and pale yellow in color...?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes, Potter, exactly like what's inside our cauldron. Thank you very much."

Harry shifted his gaze to their brew and marveled at the lovely pale yellow color as it bubbled quietly.

"I still need to stir it five more times clockwise as soon as it turns further translucent." Malfoy murmured, fully focused once more on the task at hand. "On my third stir, you need to add that sprig of ---"

Harry merely hummed in agreement as he lost track of Malfoy's instructions once again. He'd truly been having a devil of a time focusing on their work. Malfoy, Harry had begun to realize, was immensely distracting. It wasn't that Harry found his waspish bossiness annoying, it was Malfoy himself that was a distraction --- the way his lips pursed in concentration made Harry's breath hitch; or how the fine hairs at his nape would stick to his skin, damp with sweat from the suffocating heat of the cauldron. It made Harry wonder at their softness.

And Harry was doing it again. Staring.

Harry's eyes tracked a bead of sweat as it trickled down the side of Malfoy's face towards his jaw, down to his deliciously pale neck, before disappearing beneath the collar of the blond's shirt.

Harry's mouth went dry. He nervously licked his lips, wrenching his heated gaze away from his roommate.

It had been almost a month since the school year began and Harry could no longer deny his insane attraction to Draco Malfoy. Once the Slytherin had dropped his maliciously evil Malfoy facade, his aura had visibly lightened, his features were softer, appearing more delicate. Harry was able to fully appreciate the fact that, yes, Malfoy was indeed beautiful. Especially his eyes. Those goddamn eyes that seemed to change colors and textures, depending on Malfoy's ever changing mood --- sharp steel, storm clouds, quicksilver, mists over a frozen lake, mercury... The list went on. And Harry often found himself adding more almost daily.