Checkmate

Part I - The Setup - Chapter 3

"Harry, what is wrong with you!" whispered Ron, nudging him in the ribs. "Look what you're doing!"

Harry pulled his gaze away from the Slytherin table and looked down at the runny mess on his plate. Grimly he picked up his fork and took a bite. "I happen to like this," he muttered to Ron, who was shaking his head. When Ron turned away to listen to something Hermione was saying, Harry looked back over at Draco. He was still reading the paper. Belatedly he remembered that Malfoy had told him that he had no intention of talking to anyone about last night. Had he actually meant it? Bloody hell. Had he worried himself sick over nothing?

Harry looked down, forced himself to eat a few more bites, then thoughtfully pushed the remnants of the syrupy eggs and soggy toast around with his fork. He'd been so sure that Malfoy had kissed him to make a fool of him, to ridicule his feelings, he hadn't really taken seriously anything the other boy had said. If Malfoy hadn't meant to humiliate him publicly, then just what the double bloody hell had he meant by kissing him like that? Even now, he was much too upset by how that kiss had made him feel, to think clearly. Even now, he could still feel it. . .

Harry felt his face flush at the memory, and he glanced over at the Slytherin table again. Draco was looking at him over the top of his newspaper. For one second their eyes connected across the room. A shock like electricity surged through Harry. But Draco calmly looked away, folded his paper on the table, got up, and started making his way toward the doors. Oh no, you don't, thought Harry, as he grabbed his bookbag and jumped up from his seat.

"Harry!" called Hermione. "Wait! Ron and I aren't finished eating yet."

"Er, sorry guys," said Harry, backing away toward the doors, "– don't hurry – I just forgot something. I'll meet you in the hall – on the way to class." And Harry turned and took off after Draco, who had just disappeared into the main entrance hall.

"Forgot something?" snorted Ron. "I'll say. His wits!"

* * * * *

Draco had come down to breakfast early, in spite of having had very little sleep. He was quite anxious to be in the Great Hall before Harry. He wanted to watch Harry walk in, wanted to hide behind his paper and see how Harry was reacting, without allowing Harry to see him. He needed to talk to Harry, desperately needed Harry to get involved in the chess game he had invented – his whole plan centered around that one thing. And Draco surmised that the best way to get Harry angry enough, confused enough, and off-guard enough to agree to play with him, was to completely ignore him. Harry had a habit of forcefully confronting the things that bothered him, a habit Draco was counting on.

If Harry was at all unsettled by that kiss, or, be-still-my-heart, had liked it, Draco knew it would drive Harry crazy if he pretended it hadn't happened. Of course, the most likely possibility, and Draco knew the odds would be heavily in favor of it, was that Harry would have been horrified and repulsed, and would simply march into the Great Hall and punch Draco in the face – in which case, Draco's plan was so much flaming toast.

Draco glanced over at the Gryffindor table and then looked down at his watch. Harry was running late. If he didn't come in soon, Draco wouldn't have time to talk to him before class. But, just then, he saw Weasley and Granger come in. They stopped just inside the doors and turned to look back out into the main hall. And Draco had to hold his paper up higher to hide the grin, and the heat flush that colored his face when, a few seconds later, Harry, obviously very reluctantly, walked in. He looked like he hadn't slept at all, and like he expected the ceiling of the Great Hall itself to drop on him. He was being adorable again, completely pathetic, but so adorable.

And, Draco thought with an inner thrill, if he's this upset, he must have liked that kiss.

Draco invoked his characteristic outward calm, and pretended to read the Daily Prophet. His plan was most definitely underway. He watched Harry surreptitiously over the top of his paper, and even though his eyes were not visible from Harry's point of view, Draco was able to see Harry quite well. He saw Harry look over at him twice. He watched Harry poke miserably at the food on his plate. Now, said Draco to himself. It's game time. He lowered the paper a bit and waited for Harry to look at him again. And then it happened. Harry looked up, and their eyes met, and lighting struck.