The Contract : Book I [Draco/Harry]

Chapter 36 : Flagranti Caritate

Draco watched Professor Snape look back at him with beady eyes. Umbridge was present in the room as well, a clipboard resting on her knee. Draco swallowed his disgust, he had never thought he would find someone so detestable, but Umbridge brought it out in him.

Professor Snape cleared his throat.

"Mr. Malfoy, this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into sixth and seventh years. Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?"

And there it was, the question which had him stumped ever since Terry had brought it up conversationally the other day. He didn't know, not yet anyway, he just felt this overwhelming sense of panic. He tried to regain a hold of his racing thoughts.

"Um - I thought maybe I would like to become a Healer?"

It wasn't a random thought, he had wanted to be one when he had been younger, he had made the mistake of telling his father who had promptly stomped over the dream, reassuring him that no Malfoy slaved in a menial job in the service industry. But, his father wasn't here anymore was he - he didn't want to think about that anymore.

"Are you asking me or telling me, Mr. Malfoy?"

Professor Snape seemed more snappish than usual, perhaps the continued burden of providing Potter with Occlumency lessons was weaning off his already low supply of patience. Draco breathed deeply before responding firmly.

"I want to become a Healer, professor.

"They ask for a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s, and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' grade, I see. It's a difficult career path, Malfoy; they only take the best."

Professor Snape read all of this off a dark leaflet in a bored tone. Professor Umbridge looked like she wanted to say something about that, probably how Draco didn't have the temperament of a Healer, but Professor Snape continued rattling off the subjects he would need to take without giving her a chance to interrupt.

And that was that. He had made a decision, all on his own, without any interference from his parents, Draco felt liberated.

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Draco just wished he would have a moment to breathe while the world was consistently spiralling out of control. Initially he had thought the Weasley Twins quitting school, would have made things better, but it seemed to have given everyone ideas. The Inquistorial Squad and Filch had their hands full, suffice it to say.

Potter had been behaving like a surly gnome, and the way he had been avoiding Draco had him thinking Potter blamed him for something. Whenever he thought about it, he was reminded of Potter's angry rejoinder of being replaced by Terry, which was the most absurd thing Draco had heard, because Terry was his friend and Potter, well -

The rational part of his mind was reaching conclusions he wasn't ready to examine yet. Conclusions like the notion that Potter may be jealous of Terry, but to what purpose. Jealous because Terry had Draco's friendship or - he didn't dare to venture down that path, not yet at least.

Draco was watching the final match of the year, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw with gritted teeth. He was over on the Ravenclaw side, perched next to Terry and Mandy. The match was worse than he had ever dreamed. Draco sat in the stands, disbelieving, grabbing at Terry's shoulder and begging him to say it was all a nightmare, as Weasley made save after save. He looked for Potter or Granger's face, thinking their misplaced happiness might console him a bit, but they were mysteriously absent and the whole world was a bleak and filled to the brim with revolting Weasley triumph.

Later, when Gryffindor had won, and the celebrations were plentiful, Draco sat in the empty bleachers. He missed it, missed the sensation of kicking off from the ground, secure in the knowledge his broom would support him in his crusade through the air.

"Malfoy!"

Draco was a little taken aback, Potter hadn't called him by his surname in a while now. He schooled his surprised expression soon enough.

"What's got your knickers in a twist this time, Potter? Come to have another go at me, did you?"

Potter was angry, his flashing green eyes told him all that he had to know. If Draco was a smarter, he would have not done what he said next.

"You want to know what I think? I think, the other day, you were jealous of Boot?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Potter said unevenly, his chest rising and falling hard. And the truth was Draco didn't know, not really, where he was going with it. He had just wanted Potter to feel a fragment of the anguish he felt each time Potter hurt him with his words, his blows or just by being him. He couldn't help himself by taunting him further.

"Really? Because I think, you know exactly what I'm talking about. You were jealous of Boot, and not because he's my friend - "

Draco realised he had gone too far when Potter charged at him, sending him flying over and falling with his head to the ground. Potter was hitting him with a fist that had the Snitch in it, the one he had seen Potter tossing around just moments before.

Draco yelled in rage and he flung his arms around uselessly, wishing belatedly he had spent more time flying or doing anything but sitting in the library getting soft because the only thing that mattered at the moment was dislodging Potter - and perhaps, a small voice at the back of his head added, not getting his nose broken.

He twisted his body trapped underneath Potter, scrambling for his robes. There was still roaring and celebrations for Weasley's spectacular saves going on in the background but Draco didn't care, he grabbed hold of the front of Potter's robes and pulled him down, and then Potter made an aborted sound in his throat, and Draco went perfectly still, which was a wrong move, in retrospect.

Potter's hands, went to Draco's face, touching carefully, feeling around blindly, which was probably true anyway since Potter had lost his glasses in their scuffle, but then Potter cupped Draco's face in one palm and kissed him.

Draco's blood rushed past his ears and it was still spiked with adrenaline and Potter kissed with a bruising force, with an air of anger, confusion and desperation, his face a close, blurring vision of black lashes, and Draco surrendered, grabbing fistfuls of Potter's unruly black hair and kissed him back.

Draco felt Potter's fist uncurl against the small of his back before he felt a fluttering at the nape of his neck and realised Potter had let the Snitch go up his shirt. Draco broke the kiss to tell him off. That was a mistake.

Potter got off him and was gone in a blink of eye, leaving Draco clutching at his chest, wondering if he had reason to hope after all.

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A/N : Did anyone see that coming? XD