Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Love of His Quill ❯ Set My Heart a Flutter ( Chapter 1 )

Love of His Quill

Chapter One: Send My Fragile Heart A Flutter

By Kitsune Yarisha

 

“Draco, what are you doing? Let me in!” Blaise's voice rang through the door demandingly.

 

Draco threw his quill down and stuffed the papers he had written on into an already cramp folder on the desk. He stood, heart pounding in his ears as adrenaline surged through his veins, and opened the door; his mind letting the fact slip from him to ward the folder.

 

His emotionless Slytherin mask slid back into place over his pale features as Blaise said, “About time, Draco.”

 

“Sorry, I was changing, Blaise. Wouldn't want to see me in my boxers, would you?” Draco asked in response.

 

“No, but what a lovely image that brings,” he sat on Draco's bed, “to my mind. Are we going or what?”

 

Draco eyed his black comforter under Blaise with disgust, knowing he'd have to burn it later, before nodding his head. “Stay here. Let me get the others,” Draco offered, without waiting for argument, as he left the room via the door.

 

Blaise hummed peacefully for a minute or two as he got off the bed and walked around the room. Spying the desk, he walked over to it and scanned the contents. Oh sure, Draco was a straight A student, but even he has to have dirty little secret. “Oh, well, lookie here!” Blaise whispered excitedly to himself as he fingered the edges of a stack of parchment; it seemed out of place where it had been shoved into the red folder.

 

With a chuckle, he opened it gently, searching for wards with his own magic. Satisfied (that there were none), he pulled the papers out and shrunk them to a manageable size.

 

He moved back to the bed and sat, pocketing the papers as the door reopened with Draco, Pansy Parkinson, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, and David Emerson standing in the doorway. “Let's go party!” Pansy squealed as she grabbed hold of Draco's arm.

 

He (Draco) sighed in annoyance before letting them all out and locking his door.

 

 

“Harry, please, stop glaring at the Slytherin party outside,” Ron said as he flopped down on his own bed, grabbing his Daily Prophet newspaper from the side table and opening it.

 

Harry grumbled something unintelligible as he opened the window and sat on the sill.

 

“Speak up, mate. I couldn't understand any of that,” Ron grinned as he glanced over at his ebony haired friend.

 

Harry fixed his glasses on his face, squinting out the window as he repeated, “If only I could hex Pansy from here.”

 

Ron joked playfully, “Is she hanging off of Draco again? You hate that don't you?”

 

“Perhaps,” Harry replied steely, tapping his wand on the ledge. Hedwig, his white owl, flew over and sat next to him, as he called for her; he stroked her soft feathers as she shifted into a comfortable position.

 

A silence settled over the large room as Harry stared out the window, watching the whole Slytherin house parade across the grounds, laughing and throwing confetti at one another; the multicolored paper flying everywhere and landing mostly in people's hair and hoods. Finally, when Harry almost couldn't stand watching anymore, darkness fell over the grounds and the stars glittered. It meant that the party was over for the Slytherins, who had an odd way of celebrating the Eve of Valentine's Day.

 

Harry sighed as he scanned the house once more, catching the familiar head of white blond hair of his rival. His eyes clouded in a peculiar way.

 

“You like him, don't you, Harry?” Ron asked quietly, watching his friend with complete understanding.

 

Harry looked up, his eyes flashing with an emotion that Ron couldn't identify at that speed, before he said steadily, “No. I'm going to sleep.” He stood and slipped into his bed, turning away from Ron and falling into an uneasy slumber.

 

“Mate, I don't care what you say, but I know one day…” Ron trailed off as Seamus, Neville, and the other boys entered the room to go to bed.

 

 

 

 

Back in his own room, Blaise poured over the contents of the parchments, utterly surprised at the affection in them.

 

He had been right then, when he thought Draco had been hiding something from them for these last few years of schooling. He had an unrequited love for someone. Who it was, however, is what took Blaise by surprise; it was Harry Potter of Gryffindor, the golden boy.

 

Blaise turned to the next sheet, scanning the poem with extreme interest, almost seeing Potter through Draco's eyes.

 

Your eyes,

They sparkle and they shine

With memories untold

Of all different times,

I live for your body

Of wonderful, heavenly beauty

And with every chance I get

I study you with determined scrutiny,

Emerald gems of beauty

Blessed by the heavenly gods who hold you dear

They gave me a heaven on earth

That I hold so near,

I write these words

And pray every day

The gods will give me you

In forgiving pay,

For I am a mere mortal

Fallen for a truly beautiful god.

 

The passion and love in those words, for some fool who would never notice Draco as other than an enemy, sickened Blaise.

 

In the words that his friend had wrote, Blaise could point out every sad line. Draco, because of a forbidden fruit (in so many ways), could never be with Potter. For example “and pray every day the gods will give me you in forgiving pay”, he prays and prays but do they (the gods) ever listen or answer?

 

The boy reading the poem doubted it. He turned the page and read on:

 

February 13th

 

I'm in potions right now. Snape is giving me a horrible look because of my restlessness. I can't sit still with Potter behind me. It's unnerving. Even writing this is remotely distressing! Goyle is staring at my frantic writing in interest, but I don't fear him finding out about my love affair with my quill…he can't read anything past “Goyle, think Potter's a moron?” Snape just asked a question about Wolfsbane and Wormwood and I'm raising my hand, the back of my neck tingles as I feel Potter's gaze shift from Weasley to me in surprise. Granger, the superior one of their group, is whom Snape picks. My hand drops like a dead weight back to my side and I send a death glare to my godfather's back.(He knows about me and my Potter-plex.) He ignores it as he awards two points to Gryffindor with a sarcastic insult. Snape turns away from the class and I take the time to make a rude note to Potter to conceal an obvious attraction to him. I hold it in my pale, slender fingers behind me and bite back a gasp as his fingers brush mine accidentally. I withdraw my hand almost insistently and wait for the tension to come pouring out of his magical aura as he reads it. It doesn't take long; I flinch as he directs his anger at me. The bell has rung. I'll continue this during lunch when I have to sit alone because Blaise, Goyle, Crabbe, and (thank the gods) Pansy are at remedial Transfiguration. Until then, I pray Potter doesn't notice me staring at him during Charms and that Blaise doesn't turn to see me writing about said male. Speaking of which, he has quite a nice build. ACK! I was not just staring at his arse! I was not.

 

Unable to take anymore, Blaise scanned through the rest and picked up the poem and a few most serious items of passion and stacked them together. He kept the journals apart, knowing Draco would kill him if his “diary” got into public hands.

 

With a reserved sigh, Blaise sent the journals into the folder in Draco's room next door with a wave of his wand. He placed the other papers in a folder and wrote a message on it with a small drawing.

 

He put them (the one's he chose) in a small Valentine's Day bag and placed it by his bed. He stretched and changed his clothes before finally he settled into bed and turned on his side, so he could stare at the wall.

 

Was he really going to prove he had gone into Draco's private love letter folder and stole items just to help himself sleep better at night? Yes, for Draco he would do anything no matter how it affected their friendship.

 

If it meant Draco needed a push then a shove from Blaise was in order. He drifted to sleep peacefully for the first time in weeks as he resolved and justified his motive.

 

 

 

 

“Happy Valentine's Day, Harry!” Ginny giggled as she handed him a card and candy. He nodded and handed her the candy he had bought her.

 

His collection bag was quickly filling up just from the house girls. He walked quietly back up to his room and placed the bag on the floor, almost surprised to see a large stack of candy from the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw girls (almost).

 

He was more surprised to see he had received more Valentines from Slytherin and Ravenclaw boys this year than girls.

 

He smiled and made his way back down the stairs into the common room, knowing he wouldn't receive any more candy or cards today.

 

“Come on, mate! Breakfast is rumored as all candy!” Ron said in a rush, over excited by the mere mention of candy today.

 

He grinned as Ron practically dragged him out of the Gryffindor common room to the Great Hall. His smile vanished almost immediately as he saw the couple sitting together in each house and the people eagerly waving to him as he sat down at his house table.

 

He took his seat and filled his plate with confections and waited for his goblet to be magically filled with pumpkin juice. Mechanically eating his food, he leaned his head against his upturned palm and stared at nothing in particular.

 

Harry hated Valentine's Day. This day he was forced to realize (every year) that the person he loved most would not return his feelings. They would never see Harry in that way. He sighed heavily and stopped eating and began to stand to leave.

 

 

 

 

Blaise rushed past Draco with the Valentine's bag for Potter clutched tightly in his hand.

 

“Blaise! Wait!” Draco called out, but was ignored by the Italian boy.

 

Blaise ran into the Great Hall and was relieved to see that Potter had not yet come in, probably gathering cards from all his friends in their common room. He took a seat at the end of the Slytherin table closet to Gryffindor's, and waited.

 

“Hello, Blaise, how are you this fine day?” Marcus Flint asked politely as he moved to sit beside Blaise.

 

“I hate you,” Blaise responded with malice, hating the fact that he knew Flint liked him (very much so).

 

Flint smiled nicely as he said, “I know that and I don't care.”

 

Blaise nearly jumped with relief as Potter strode in with Weasley in tow. Come to think of it, Blaise didn't exactly like the weasel either. He made a move to stand but Flint grabbed his hand forcefully.

 

“What?” Blaise snapped at the offending teen.

 

“I like you,” Flint responded truthfully, eyes glittering with emotion.

 

“I don't like you in any sense of the word. I need to do something for Draco, so let go now!” Blaise yelled at him hurriedly as he saw Potter move to leave.

 

Flint hung on as Blaise began to walk toward Potter. He stopped once more, kicked Flint off, and then walked quickly toward Potter, who had moved away from the bench and was talking to Weasley.

 

“Potter!” Blaise yelled, almost taken aback at how loud his voice suddenly sounded. Most conversations ceased quickly but others ignored the shout.

 

Potter turned toward Blaise with a retort ready, but it was swallowed back as Blaise stopped and held out the bag to him.

 

Potter looked at him oddly before taking it and saying, “Well, Zabini, I wasn't hoping for a gift from you out of all the Slytherin.”

 

“Don't have a cow, Golden Boy. It's not from me. It's time to learn why you're still alive and breathing,” Blaise replied, satisfied with just insulting the young man before him. “It's time someone showed you the truth.”

 

With those last bone-chilling words, Blaise turned and walked back to the Slytherin tables (avoiding Flint) and basically glowed with triumph.

 

He watched with amusement as Potter sat back on the bench, facing towards him. He gestured for the poor man to open the bag.

 

Potter, upon hearing and seeing Blaise tease him to open it, did so. Inside there was a grand roll of several parchments, a single rose, and a letter. He pulled the letter out and, his eyes widening, read over the front of the letter:

 

To: Harry J. Potter

Gryffindor

From: Draco L. Malfoy

Slytherin

 

Sent by: Blaise Zabini

Titled: Love of His Quill by Blaise Zabini

 

To Be Continued.