piss off [drarry]

xiv

"Oh no," whined Ron, one hand preoccupied with a spoon of leaky porridge, the other clutching a quill. "You promised me we would finish the essay during breakfast, Harry, yet you have it done already. Why?"

"I couldn't sleep at night. I figured I might as well write it," he shrugged, peacefully drinking his tea.

Hermione wasn't convinced: "Harry, you would have to visit the library for that, and I'm pretty sure your invisibility cloak was untouched when I came to wake you two up."

"Or I could've just opened our textbook and rearrange the information given?" raising both of his eyebrows, Harry smiled sheepishly.

"Right," Hermione nodded, "I'm still not entirely convinced."

"Neither am I," Ron scrunched his freckled nose, "Not only am I not convinced but I'm vexed as well. What am I supposed to do now?" 

"You have fifty-nine minutes to figure that out. Good luck," Harry winked, still eating his breakfast, unbothered.

This state of mind stayed with him until the Potions class, even until he stood up to hand over his essay. And as he walked to the desk, he came face-to-face with the glorious Draco Malfoy, looking as beautiful as ever. They exchanged a glare, though a meaningless one - it was a habit, not an emotion. And when he was placing his parchment on Snape's table, a familiar cursive came to his view. He took a closer look. Yes, it was the same cursive he saw every night, the same cursive he adored, he found comfort in. It was on top of a pile of parchment scraps, which means it belonged to the person who visited the professor's desk right before him. He tossed his essay on top of it, spinning around wide-eyed. Draco was shooting daggers at him. A cold stare, but the same eyes he saw under the black mask. There was no denial now, Draco Malfoy was Harry Potter's love interest. 

His knees gave up, droplets of sweat building upon his forehead. "You," he mouthed. Draco only looked down. He knew he messed up. He wasn't sure what to do, he didn't expect this day to come so soon. 

Harry felt like the time has stopped. His breathing became irregular, as everything kept piecing up in his mind. All the odd words Draco has said to him, every hint he has written up until now. Both of them still stared at each other, even though Harry was now seated in his seat.  Draco Malfoy kissed him. Draco Malfoy played with his hair. Draco Malfoy loves him. But does he really? Ron mentioned the older was plotting something evil, what if he was only toying with his feelings all along? Since the very first second after Harry refused to shake his hand in the first year, Draco has set a goal to destroy the scarred boy, so why would he change his mind now?

I discovered a new side of you that I didn't know before - or rather didn't try to know before - and now I'm completely hexed by both your inner and outer beauty.

But what if that was all a lie?

Let me love you no matter who I am.

It was definitely all just an act.

I'm drawn towards you in every way possible.

I'm hexed.

Keep an open mind. Break any barriers.

All the faint smiles. Stares.

The kiss.

The fuss about Draco's identity.

All the promises, agreements, shared secrets.

Those beautiful eyes.

Neat handwriting. His way with words.

Harry's head began to spin. He remembered the only time he had ridden a rollercoaster. That feeling wasn't half as bad as this one - he felt like throwing up, fainting, his breath stopped, his heartbeat was too rapid for his liking. Just as his vision got blurry, he put his head on his desk before blacking out completely.

"Potter?!"

Was that Draco's voice he just heard?

Damn right it was. It rang in his head for several hours, until he woke up in the hospital wing. The clock told him it was lunchtime. He was alone. Everyone was enjoying their pancakes, yet he was hungry again. He sighed, and drifted off to sleep again. Or at least he tried to. 

The door quietly opened, quiet steps echoed through the empty room. Harry popped open one of his green eyes, only for it to meet a pair of silver ones. "We need to talk," whispered their owner, "But eat up first." Draco handed the sickly looking boy a tray with a glass of orange juice and five stacked up pancakes with a cube of butter on top. 

"Have you eaten yet?" Harry asked weakly, taking the tray.

Draco stopped in his track: "How could I? I was worried sick about you!"

"Well, I'm okay now, so there's no need for that," he cut into the stack of fluffy sweetness. "I want you to have some, as I assume this is your lunch I'm eating."

"Damn, Harry, an indirect kiss this soon into the relationship?" the blonde smirked, munching on the received food. But Harry frowned.

"Who said we were dating?"

"Oh, I don't know," the latter chuckled, "The ordered kiss? Planned dirty time?"

"Yeah, actually, could you forget about those?" Harry scratched the back of his neck and bit his lip.

"What- what do you mean?" Draco scoffed, eyebrows furrowed, hands shaking slightly.

He took a breath: "I don't like you, Malfoy."