An Issue of Consequence

Chapter 4

Draco pulled away, jaw clenched. He had to explain this to Potter, make him understand. Get him to Pomfrey or Slughorn. Maybe warn his friends. Because this was too ridiculous. And everyone would blame Draco for it. He just knew it. It would turn out Draco was the one who had hexed him. Maybe that was the plan. Whoever did this to Potter wanted to get Draco into serious trouble. This was no joke; this was a disaster. Potter would murder him. Potter's friends would murder him. His father would murder him. He'd be expelled. Be sent to Azkaban...

Potter leaned in, his face so close Draco could feel the warmth of his skin. "There's nothing you can't tell me," he whispered, his expression soft, his voice intimate, wrapping around Draco like a warm, alluring spell, urging him to give in, to let Potter pull him close so that he could bask in the protection he offered. For a wild, wonderful second it seemed like Draco could really just tell him. Tell him something was wrong, and it wasn't Draco's fault, and maybe Potter would believe him, promise him it was okay, and they'd sort it out without murders or Azkaban. "It's okay," Potter said as though he had read Draco's mind. As though something compelled him to say whatever Draco wanted him to say. "Just tell me, and we'll deal with it."

This was too cruel. It wasn't just a random kiss in a cupboard that only served to remind Draco of what he could never have. This was really much worse. This was Potter behaving in a way that Draco rarely dared even to imagine. He'd only resort to it when his need was dire. When his nightmares were too vivid, and the images refused to vanish even after Draco woke up and opened his eyes. In those moments, his mind trusted only Potter. He was the only one who could convince Draco that it was all right, that he was safe now, that the Dark Lord wasn't coming back. Only Potter could save him from nightmares the way he had saved him from flames.

Their foreheads were touching. Potter's skin was warm, the scent of his shampoo too delicious for Draco not to breathe it in. Whichever spell Potter was under, it was definitely contagious. Or Draco really was having a nervous breakdown.

Telling Potter he'd been hexed would be the smart thing to do. Better sooner than later to minimise the damage.

One of Potter's hands sneaked behind Draco. Potter's palm was a firm, calming presence on the small of Draco's back.

Maybe telling Potter wasn't the best idea. Draco had witnessed the effects of love spells before. They were considered dangerous for a reason. Trying to convince a person under a spell that what they're feeling wasn't real never went well. They often turned angry and violent. If Draco were to tell Potter this wasn't real, doing it somewhere a teacher could save him when Potter lost his mind would be the wise course of action.

Besides, he was in big trouble as it was.

And he wasn't getting another chance like this.

"Tell me," Draco said, "am I really such a challenge? I'm pretty amazing at Quidditch, aren't I?"

Potter laughed. "So this is about Quidditch."

"Yeah. All about Quidditch."

Potter's lips pressed softly against Draco's, and Draco shivered. "You're a definite challenge. In every way. And you know how much I enjoy those."