The Ties That Bind Us (Drarry)

Chapter 7

Potter didn't taste like apples. He tasted better. Which was a silly thought because Draco loved apples.

He dragged his lips over Potter's skin, touching it tentatively with his tongue. However, Potter wrenched away, taking his delicious skin with him. It was only after Draco saw Potter goggle at him that he realized he had done something crazy again.

"What are you doing?" Potter asked, the tone of his voice brimming with shock.

"I . . ." Draco's voice broke and he had to clear his throat before he could speak again. "I fell asleep. And my head fell onto your shoulder. It was an accident." Draco's cheeks heated up in shame. That had been the lamest excuse he had ever given anyone. He expected Potter to laugh at him, but Potter didn't seem amused. He seemed angry.

"An accident?" he repeated. "Oh, you're funny, Malfoy. Truly." Glaring, he added, "Stop trying to be clever. I told you I didn't kiss you on purpose. That was an accident. What are you trying to prove? What do you want from me?"

Draco stared at Potter's angry face and said nothing. Potter had made some crazy conclusions about Draco's motives and Draco did not plan to dissuade him; they sounded more dignified than the truth. The truth being that Draco had no idea what he wanted from Potter and why he had the sudden urge to bite him and kiss him and lick him.

"You want me to confess that I'm gay?" Potter asked and Draco frowned, considered, and then nodded. But Potter had obviously intended it as a rhetorical question, because he continued speaking without confirming anything. "You do realize that even if I tell you right now that I'm gay, no one would ever believe you? You couldn't even use it to mock me in public because the moment you do I'll hex you and we'll end up fighting again. And then we'll be expelled. Don't you get it? You can't afford to provoke me, again. I don't think McGonagall was bluffing. She meant what she said; she thinks we shouldn't be here in the first place. We have no choice but to stay away from each other."

Draco frowned; he hadn't thought about McGonagall's threat much, but now that he did, he realized Potter was right. It hadn't occurred to him that McGonagall's warning meant he wouldn't be allowed to push Potter's buttons, anymore. If Potter lost his temper — and that was the whole point of Draco's baiting — and he hit or hexed Draco again, it was over. Draco couldn't even count on convincing McGonagall that it was all Potter's fault, because she said she didn't care. It was a distressing thought — annoying Potter was Draco's favorite pastime.

"You know," Draco mused, looking on the bright side of things, "you're right. Which means there's nothing stopping you from telling me the truth. I can't share the knowledge with anyone, as you've so cleverly noted."

Potter looked heavenward. "Why would I confess something like that to you? And why would you care, if you can't use that knowledge against me?"

Yes, I can, Draco thought, but managed not to say it out loud. Honestly, Potter was ridiculously naïve. Knowledge could always be used against a person.

"I'm merely curious," Draco claimed. "I think it would be funny if you were gay. Think about all those girls that are crazy about you — they would be inconsolable." Potter opened his mouth, undoubtedly to deny the existence of worshipping girls, but Draco quickly added, "Oh, please, Potter, I've seen the amount of fan mail you get. Not to mention you won the Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award this year. And to tell you the truth, it's hard to navigate the hallways after you pass through them. The amount of drool produced by your fangirls is positively alarming." Draco grimaced as he remembered the dreamy looks some girls adopted the moment Potter appeared.

Potter gaped at him. "I won the Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award?"

"Like you didn't know," Draco scoffed.