The Language Of Snakes

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"Potter what the actual fuck?" 

Draco snapped at the Gryffindor, who had come up to him a moment ago, stood there for a minute staring, and has now started speaking...in Parseltongue. He was hissing something, and Draco didn't understand a single hiss. He didn't stop, or even flinch when Draco yelled at him, just stared the blonde right in the eyes and kept hissing for England.

"No, really Potter. What the fuck are you doing?" Draco tried again, crossing his arms across his chest. He was grateful for everything Potter did for him during and after the war, but that didn't mean the prick could just go up to him and hiss at him out of bloody nowhere. Potter just kept hissing, voice dropping and rising in tone, some hisses short and cut off, some long and throaty. It sounded very smooth and deep, but Draco still didn't understand a thing. He stared into those dumb green eyes, but for the first time in nearly 8 years, Draco couldn't decipher a single emotion out of them. Usually, Potter's eyes gave him away, whether it be rage or happiness, you could read it straight out of his green eyes. Now, though, they were veiled. Not a single emotion came through. Completely blank. It thoroughly freaked Draco out. Was he cursed? Suddenly, he stopped hissing, and after another moment, turned around, and just walked away. What. The. Hell?

"Oi Potter! For Merlin's sake stop! You can't just--" Draco ran to catch up to him and grip his arm, turning him around forcefully.

"Let go Malfoy." His voice was soft and somber. 

"What the hell was that?" Draco asked, gripping harder.

"Nothing Malfoy. Please just...let go.." He begged, voice cracking at the end. This alone startled Draco enough to drop his arm helplessly, and watch him walk away. 

~

The second time it happened was 2 weeks after the first incident. Potter approached him, and started to hiss, telling him something in the language of snakes. In the 2 weeks between incidents, Draco had been unsuccessfully stalking Potter, attempting to get an answer out of him, but he always just shook his head gently and walked away. It was infuriating. Pay attention to me dammit! Now, the bastard comes to him only to start hissing again. This time, Draco wouldn't let him get away with it so easily. As soon as Potter turned around to leave, Draco grabbed him again.

"Now you fucking tell me what the fuck you were telling me Potter." He barked, harsher than he'd intended if Potter's flinch was anything to go by. He, again, turned around, and just gently shook his head, eyes never leaving Draco's own.

"Tell me." Draco whined, not even caring he sounded like a child.

Head shake.

"Tell me." The blonde whined again, more drawn out this time.

Head shake.

"Tell meeee!" Draco pouted, still holding Potter's arm.

A charming grin broke out on Potter's face and he shook his head once again, face falling once more.

"Why not?" Draco asked instead. Potter blinked, shoulders slumping:

"Because you deserve better." 

He simply stated, and yanked free of Draco's loosened grip. What the fresh hell?

~

The third time it happened, Draco was just resigned at this point, aware he wouldn't get an answer out of Potter. He couldn't stop thinking about what Potter told him last time.

'Because you deserve better.'

What did he mean by that? Better than what? Draco ran a hand through his hair as he stood in the corridor, listening to the stupid hissing. It made him shiver every time Potter would do it. It had occurred to him that he didn't have to stand there and listen, but for some reason, he stood every time, and waited for Potter to finish. When he did, he left again. He walked back to his friends, Granger's face crestfallen, and Weasley's just furrowed. Maybe Granger knew something? Surely. 

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