Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Love of His Quill ❯ Blow Me a Kiss ( Chapter 4 )

Love Of His Quill

Chapter Four: Blow Me A Kiss

By Kitsune Yarisha

 

 

He'd sent it.

 

A letter, or note, that essentially expressed his true feelings.

 

And to top it all off… he hadn't received a quick reply like the other times.

 

In fact, he hadn't received anything from Malfoy for two weeks.

 

His moods were darker now, as a result.

 

He was prone to snap at Ron and Hermione when they began to bicker senselessly. He sulked in class and avoided all of the Slytherins.

 

He wanted to talk to Malfoy, but his Gryffindor courage and bravery were gone along with his optimistic attitude.

 

If Hermione had noticed, she had said nothing and done little.

 

Ron… well, Ron was an idiot and wouldn't notice a poster supporting `Harry Potter is depressed' if you held it in front of his freckled face.

 

The others (Seamus, Dean, Neville, etc.) had noticed, but had kept clear of Harry since he'd thrown Hogwarts: A History at them when they'd ask.

 

He walked into the Great Hall, face downcast, hair slightly more tame, and fist loosely clenched.

 

His friends were already seated.

 

Taking the seat between them, he began to fill his plate.

 

Hermione smiled and offered, “Toast, Harry?”

 

“No, thank you.”

 

“Bacon?”

 

“No.”

 

“Eggs?”

 

“I'm quite fine, thank you.”

 

“How about some taters, than?”

 

“Hermione…”

 

“Or a biscuit?”

 

“No!! I'm fine,” He shouted, before ducking his head and apologizing as Hermione teared up.

 

Ron immediately began to prattle on about the unfairness of the Potions essay they had for homework, ignoring the display Hermione and Harry had just put on.

 

Harry, not really listening to Ron, glanced at the Slytherin table.

 

Malfoy had just sat down, Blaise at his immediate right.

 

He watched as the boy glanced around, gray eyes unable to stay still before they centered back on Blaise.

 

The blonde boy said something to his friend, and Blaise glanced up at Harry.

 

Harry ducked his head, and stared at his plate silently.

 

--

 

It was awkward…to be around Draco after the last letter Potter had sent.

 

He had never responded to it. In fact, he'd just locked it away.

 

Blaise had tried, over again, to get him to meet with Potter, as he was doing now, but he was failing miserably.

 

“Draco! Look at him! He's so worried he's done something wrong!”

 

To his credit, his friend did look up.

 

Potter's face was drawn, eyes tired, and smile gone.

 

Draco felt a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. He turned his gaze back to Blaise. “Perhaps you've a point.”

 

“Finally!” Blaise threw his hands up in the air.

 

“Well then, what should I do?”

 

“Public displays of affection!”

 

A pause. “What?”

 

“Act like a sodding Hufflepuff when he's around.”

 

Silence. “WHAT!”

 

“'Tis the only way it will worketh!” Smug.

 

“I HATE YOU!”

 

“I know.”

 

An uncomfortably homicidal silence filled the space between them as Draco glared at Blaise.

 

Blaise shifted on his seat, rather uncomfortable all of the sudden.

 

Before long, Draco sighed and muttered, “I'll do it.”

 

“What was that?” Blaise asked innocently, batting his eyelashes.

 

“I'll. Do. It,” Draco ground out as he stood. He turned and left the Great Hall in a flurry of black robes that would've done Snape proud.

 

Blaise smiled and applauded himself mentally.

 

--

 

He'd have to do it now.

 

He walked forward determinedly to Malfoy's desk, totally focused.

 

The professor walked in behind him and Harry immediately turned and sat on his chair, face near a hysterical expression. He schooled it back into a mask of indifference.

 

He turned his gaze to Malfoy for a moment, watching the blonde as the professor prepared his lesson.

 

Malfoy shifted in his seat, glancing at Blaise before taking a deep breath. He turned and faced Harry.

 

Eyes suddenly wide, Harry blushed in embarrassment at being caught staring.

 

Malfoy smiled softly and waved at Harry before turning back to the front of the class.

 

Harry stared in shock at the back of Draco's head, unsure if he had just imagined that exchange. He didn't have quite long to think as the professor placed a quiz on his desk.

 

--

 

Draco and Blaise stood up immediately as the bell rang, eyes meeting from across the room.

 

Draco inhaled deeply and walked over to Potter, noticing with a mental smile that almost instantly Ron made an effort to distract his friend from his approach.

 

“Oi, Potter!”

 

Potter's head swiveled around in response. He brightened, “Hello, Malfoy.”

 

“Hello, love,” Draco mumbled as he pecked Harry on the cheek.

 

Harry's face went red as he stared wide-eyed at the Slytherin. “Wha…what did you call me?”

 

“Love. Why?”

 

“It's just… Um…”

 

Blaise choose that moment to appear, saving Harry from a response. “So…finally admit it?”

 

“Sod off, bloody wanker.”

 

“Tut tut, Draco. Who here is starting to date The-Boy-Who-Lived?”

 

“Me, thank you,” Draco glanced at Harry with an unsure look. “If that of course, is all right with you, Po—Harry.”

 

“Of course!” Harry exclaimed beaming.

 

Ron looked undoubtedly disgusted and angry as he turned and stomped away.

 

Hermione waved a hand of dismissal at Harry, “I'll fix him up. Congratulations, Malfoy-Potter!”

 

“Malfoy-Potter, eh? What a lovely ring,” Draco said to himself more than to Blaise and Harry. He grinned as he hugged Harry around the waist and mumbled into his ear, “I'm sorry about not answering. It took a moment to get over the initial shock.”

 

“No problem. Besides, you more than made up for it with your display.”

 

“Oh, now did I?”

 

“Except for one thing of course.”

 

“Which is, Potter?”

 

“That and not telling me earlier on about your complex.”

 

“Ah. Well I'll just have to find a way to make you forget that,” Draco said before kissing him full on the lips and pulling him to their next class.

 

Blaise cooed behind them in sarcastic tone.

 

--

 

“Another year at Hogwarts has come to past, and though through our trials we have suffered many a loss to defeat Voldemort, we have also gained many allies. A few of us have even gained life partners,” McGonagall gave a pointed look at Draco and Harry, who nodded. She continued, “However bad the damage we have suffered, those who have past are well-remembered and honored. Raise your classes to those lost and pray this will not continue!”

 

All the remaining students, barely enough to fill up a full table, raised their glasses. Some of the older girls were crying and the boy sat somberly, eyes closed.

 

Harry sobbed on Draco's shoulder, muttering something near, “As the boy-who-fucking-lived I can kill Voldemort, dementors, trolls, and giants, but I can't save my own friends!”

 

Draco shushed him, running his fingers through his lover's soft, messy, black hair, soothing him.

 

“To the true heroes!” Everyone shouted, raising his or her glasses high.

 

“I'll never see any of them again…” Harry mumbled into Draco's shoulder.

 

“Nonsense. With each passing day, I sit and pray, because of my heart's desire, to see you all someday. You'll see them again, if you will it.”

 

Harry didn't reply, he just called, “Draco?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You know that I… love you.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Harry grinned, “What no poem?”

 

Draco looked up at the night sky ceiling thoughtfully. “I suppose not.”

 

“Why not?” Harry said, sitting up quickly to get a better look at Draco.

 

The latter smiled, “Because, quite frankly, I just don't feel like it now. Crying seems to put me off a bit. Just a bit. Of course, maybe later I will be willing.”

 

Harry pouted, “Oh, come on. Recite an old one!”

 

Draco sighed, “If I must. Dry your face.”

 

His boyfriend obliged, wiping his face clear of tears and smiling at Draco brightly. He waited patiently for the blonde to settle.

 

“This one is very old, so don't get any weird ideas from it, alright?”

 

Harry nodded animatedly; he tried not to leap from his seat as Draco started to recite a poem he had written in fifth year.

 

It was amazing to Harry that he had indeed inspired these wonderful poems.

 

Draco smiled softly at him and he recited in a gentle, rocking voice:

 

“I'd like to run away from you,

Know that it's possible to get away from you.

Try and push away all the emotions,

Push away all the things I can never say.

I wish you could see me,

See me for the man that you've made me become.

Everything is your entire fault!

It's you're fault that I can't stop…

You're fault I'm in love with you,

And can't stop dreaming of you.”

 

“Love of his quill,” Harry breathed airily, happy to listen to Draco's voice.

 

The former Slytherin scowled and muttered, “Wanker.”

 

 

To be continued.