Inwardlygroaning,Draodownedtherestofhiswineandshookhishead.HisgazeroamedPotter’sbody,heatrisinginhishest.Eventhoughhisrobesdidn’tgiveawaymuh,DraoknewfromthepitureshehadseenintheProphetthatPotterhadfilledout.Itsuitedhim.DraolikedthefatthatPotterdidn’tlooksodeliateanymore.HealsolikedthefatthatPotterwasstillshorterthanhim,evenifitonlywasbyafewinhes.

Beforeheknewit,hiseyesweregluedtoPotter’slipsagain,unabletoshakethesuddenurgetotouhthem.Forthelotimehehadwantedtotouhthem.Itwasthemostfrustratingthing.Drao’sgazemomentarilyflikeredtoPotter’sgss,whihhehadraisedtohismouth.Butbeforehislipstouhedit,histonguedartedoutandheslowlylikedtherim.Draofeltaviolentshuddergothroughhim,notonlybeausethiswasfarmoresensualthanshouldbeallowed,butmainly,beauseherealisedPotterwaslookingathim.Hadhedonethatonpurpose?HadheseenDraostaringathim?Fuk!

PaniwashedoverhimashewathedPottermumblesomethingtothetwowizardswhowerestillstrokinghim,andmarhovertowhereDraoandBisewerestanding.Draowantedtoboltbutfoundhimselfrootedtothespot.

“Ifeellikeyou’reavoidingme,”Pottersaidpoint-bnk.Draowasn’tsureifheshouldbrushitoffwithaughordenyit.Beforeheoulddeide,Bisesniggeredbesidehim.

“Takeitasaompliment,”hesaid,touhinghisgsstoPotter’s.Drao’smouthdroppedopenandittookeverythinginhimnottoshoutathisfriendtoshutthefukup.

“Take—What?”Potterlookedonfused.Good.He’dalwaysbeentoodensetopikuponthingslikethat.

“DoesthegreatHarryPotternotfeelpamperedenough?”Draodrawled,hisheadswimming.Assoonasthewordslefthismouth,however,heinwardlyringed.ThiswasanotherreasonwhyhehadavoidedPotter.He’dbeenafraidsomethingstupidlikethatmighttumbleoutofhismouth.Butwhatthehellwashesupposedtosaytohim?PotterhadsavedhimandhismotherfromAzkaban,showingthemmoresympathythantheyprobablydeserved.Thatinitselfwasproblematienough.Therealproblem,though?Itwasn’tinDrao’snaturetosimplyreiproatesuhsympathy.

“Don’tbeadik,Malfoy,”Pottermuttered,ablushreepingontohisheeks.“Ijustwantedtotalktoyou.Isthatsobad?”

Yes,Draowantedtoblurt.Instead,hestupidlyasked,“Why?”

Potterjustshrugged,promptingDraotonarrowhiseyesinsuspiion.

“Youknowwhat,Idon’twanttokeepyouguysfromathingup,”Bisesaidheerfully.“Ta-ta!”Withinseonds,Draolostsightofhim,leavinghimhelplessanddizzy.

“Okay,um—”Potterlookedunsure,tappingafingeronhisgss.“Howaboutwegetanotherdrinkfirst?”

Draothoughtheprobablyalreadyhadenoughatthispoint,butsomethingaboutPotter’sexpressionmadehimagreewithanod.Hewassmiling…almostshyly.

“Alrightthen,”Pottersaid,andgesturedforDraotoleadtheway.Assoonashestartedwalking,hefeltahandonthesmallofhisbakandalmosthoked.HisheadwhippedaroundtoPotter,whogavehimanilookandthen…anothersmile.Drao’seyesdarteddowntohislipsandthenbaktohiseyes.

OhMerlin,hewasompletelyfuked.

Chapter2:That’sholyworse

Sunday,15Deember2002

Draoexperimentallyopenedoneofhiseyes,justtobegreetedbyharshsunlightthatmadehimfeellikehisheadwasexploding.Ugh!Hehadn’tfeltthishorriblesinetwoyearsago,whenBisehadneededadrinkingbuddy,afterhehadaughthisthen-girlfriendheatingonhim.Thathadbeentheworsthangoverofhislife.But,fromthelooksofit,thisoneseemedtobeturningintoaloserunner-up.

Whimpering,hedraggedhimselftothebathroomandrummagedthroughtheabiforahangoverpotion.Hehatedthatstuff,ittastedawful,anditdidn’treallyhelpwiththeheadahe,butstill,itwasquikerthanjustwaitingforthequeasinesstosubside.Whenhefoundit,hequiklyunorkedthelittlevialanddowneditinonegulp,immediatelybrushinghisteethafterwardstogetridoftheaftertaste.

Groggily,hetrudgedbaktohisbedbutbeforeheouldplopdownonit,heheardsomethingoverbythewindows.Frowning,helettheunfamiliarbarn-owlflutterinandwatheditndonahair.Hiseyesfelltothelettertiedtotheowl’sfoot.IfthiswasanotefromBise,mokinghimforstnight,Draowouldmakesurehewouldneverbeabletousehishandsagain.

Mereseondsafterhefinisheduntyingtheletter,theowlsreehedandtookoffagain.Apparently,whoeverhadsentitdidn’texpetareply.Draowathedtheowlvanishintothesky,beforesinkingdownonhisbed,arefulnottomakeanysuddenmovements.Thepotionwasw,hedidfeelbetter,buthestillhadasplittingheadahe.

Itwashisownfault.HenevershouldhaveagreedtodrinkingfirewhiskeywithPotter.Oh.Ohno.HehaddrunkfirewhiskeywithPotter.But…fuk,heouldn’trememberwhattheyhadtalkedabout.Something…aboutBise’sonstantflirting…and…maybePotter’sworkand…nothing,hehadnoidea.Well,shit!

Absentmindedly,heopenedtheletterhewasstillholding,takinginthefamiliarhandwriting.

Hopefullyyou’restillinbedwhenyouseethis.

Youanthankmeterforsparingyouthepainofspillinghotoffeealloveryourself.

B

Draofrowned.Heturnedtheletterovertofindsomethingattahedtothebakofit.ItlookedlikeanartilefromtheDailyProphet;today’sDailyProphet,Draorealisedashiseyeswidened.TherewasapitureofhimandPotter,talkinganimatedly.TheaptionreadsomethingaboutthehighlysuessfulharitygaandhowPotterhadhelpedwithitbhbhbh.Itwasthesam

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