Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Passing Notes ❯ Little Red Lion ( Chapter 3 )

I remember the first time he insulted me. We were in our second year, Ron and I had nothing to do and since Harry had been woken up early for Quidditch practice, we decided to watch him. The day was going by smoothly and everything was lovely until the Slytherins showed up. Insults were thrown back and forth between the teams and yet I was barely focusing on what was going on.

I was young and when we are young we do stupid things, like find the horrid blond boy appealing in his Quidditch robes. I would never admit it, but that day my heart caught in my throat. He was every bit as beautiful as the day I first saw him. I always thought of him as an angel, a fallen one, but an angel non-the less. His blond hair glowed in the light as it was always pushed back from his face. His green Quidditch robes showed off his build and were obviously made to fit his lithe body. He looked strong, quick, and incredibly breathtaking. I was so wrapped up in him that I was only able to catch the last line of the argument.

He was leaning against his expensive broom looking calm and collected. “…You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them." The rest of Malfoy's teammates laughed as I could feel every Weasley there glower with anger. Though I may have been infatuated with him seconds before, his snip at my friends brought me to the forefront of the argument.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," I said sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

Malfoy looked straight at me then. Before he had also looked through me, never honestly at me, so to feel the intensity of his glare was staggering. I stood there, holding a breath as I waited to take the first of many verbal beatings to come.

It took him a moment to regain his calm exterior and when he did his eyes seemed to glisten with joy. Whatever he was going to say, he thought was going to be the winning statement. He parted his lips and all but growled at me, “No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood.”

I learned later what a Mudblood was and from then on it was Malfoy's pet name for me. I never went a day without hearing the foul word slip from his tongue and soon the word lost its edge. I became accustomed to hearing it every day, so when days slipped by without it, I was thrown through a loop.

It had been a week since our night in the astronomy tower and I hadn't heard from him. We still saw each other in our classes, the halls, the great hall, but not once had we spoken. It was maddening, having so many questions and no answers. That night I had sought him out, followed him up there for answers, not more questions. I found myself drifting from reality just to think about it. Try and pick apart each action, each word, find something to soothe my rattled brain. Yet every time I replayed that event my quest for answers slowly diminished and my enjoyment in simply reliving it grew.

Yesterday I was sitting with Harry and Ron in the common room. Harry and Ron were playing a game of wizard chess as they discussed the upcoming Quidditch game. I watched them play and idly turned the pages of my potions book. I had looked down in an attempt to actually retain some of the information but when I didn't succeed I looked up, only to see Malfoy's eyes staring into mine. My breath hitched and I nearly jumped. I couldn't understand how he had gotten in here. Surely someone would have made a fuss about it and I would have seen him enter. But there he was, his grey eyes searching mine.

 

I was dumbstruck, as I couldn't turn my eyes away. They seemed familiar, like I had seen them like this before. They held such emotion, such passion that I could feel it entering my body. I lifted my hand to touch his cheek when I was shaken. Harry was yelling my name asking me if I was all right.

I closed my eyes and when I opened them I was met with Harry's green worried eyes. I simply told him I was fine and looked down at my book signaling that I didn't wish to discuss it. Harry seemed put off by my evasion but let me have it as he returned to his game.

My daydreams about him seemed to be growing more and more intense. I wanted answers, needed answers. Maybe having answers would be the cure to my breaks in reality. I sat in the library, hoping to keep my mind in the present. A large tome on dreams sat on the table before me as I tried to find a way to keep from dreaming about him. I sat there, trying to find something I could use when I heard the sound of paper crunching. I looked up to see who might be disrupting my peace with their noise when I saw a little paper lion running to me.

I closed my eyes and rubbed them; honestly thinking I was going insane, yet when I opened them there he was. He was standing on top of my dream book meowing at me. He was made of red paper and he obviously wanted me to touch him. I looked around trying to find the source of the paper lion, but I seemed to be the only one enjoying the library. I looked at him again wondering if I should touch him. My curiosity won out in the end as I lifted my hand to touch his head. The second my fingers swiped the paper, he unfolded and a note lay in his wake.

I looked at the note just as I looked at the lion, with caution and concern. But again my curiosity as to who had sent him won over my common sense and I picked it up to read what was written. I gasped and looked around quickly before reading the note again. `Care to chat?' It was simple, it was witty and it was from him. Though it wasn't signed I knew it had to be from him.

I picked up my quill and frantically thought of something to write back. For all my years of knowing exactly what to do and say I was again at a loss. When it came to him my mind seemed to turn off. I wrote down the first thing I could think of, `sure.' It was horribly lame but I couldn't think of anything else to say. I looked down at my one word and shook my head before I continued, `what would you like to chat about?' There, that was better. I put my quill back on the desk and thought about how I would get it back to him. I didn't know the spell he used to make it turn into a lion so how would I return the note. I was close to banging my head on the table when the lion popped up, meowed at me once more before running down the table and onto the floor. I watched it run behind some bookshelves as I was left to wait for his reply.

I looked back at my book in an attempt to pass the time but I was too anxious. I could feel my heart beating in my chest as I thought about talking to him. One of my legs was bouncing as I tried to steady my breathing. I don't know what had come over me. I was flush and I felt like my stomach was doing back flips. Where was this feeling coming from, what was happening to me? This was Malfoy we were talking about. I shouldn't be having this reaction to him.

Soon the lion came bounding back, happy to be put to use. I smiled at him he really was adorable. This time he ran right into my awaiting hand and unfolded instantly. I looked down at the words and a slow smile crept upon my face. `Anything you like, I just want to chat.'

 

I couldn't tell you why the statement made me so happy but knowing he wanted to seek me out just as I did him was enough to make me content. I picked up my quill again and ran the feather along the side of my face. What did I want to say to him? I could be coy, flirt with him a bit. But that just wasn't me. I could be brave, use my Gryffindor courage and bring up the other night. Or I could take the safe route and ask, `how have you been?' Another lame response but it was the best I could manage at the moment.

 

The lion once again sprung to life and scurried off, excited to show its master what it had brought him. This time I was less anxious I awaited his response. I was simply content waiting to see how he would respond. I was still rather confused about what I was feeling. This was so wrong. If Harry and Ron knew what I was doing, what I had done, I don't know how they would react. Ron might go off and kill Malfoy, or me. I bit my lip as I looked about the library. It was best not to dwell on those thoughts while speaking with the enemy. I might lose what little courage I have within me and stop speaking with him. I knew that was the last thing I wanted to do.

This time I didn't even notice the little lion's return until he was pawing at my hand. I looked down and smiled as he unfolded for me and revealed his master's words. `Not good. I'm a bit confused at the moment.'

The back flips were back as my heart joined my organs in their movement. What did he mean by confused? What was he confused about? The questions were returning as I set out to respond to him. `What might you be confused about, if you don't mind me asking?' I hurried the little lion along on his journey as I waited for an answer. I knew that when seeking answers from Malfoy your never knew what you would be getting in return. I could be getting a snide remark, an ambiguous answer or, I swallowed at the last one and shook my head. I was letting my thoughts run away from me.

The kiss was vividly stuck in my thoughts as I tapped my finger on the book. What was he writing? What was he going to say? I saw his eyes again, his beautiful grey eyes. I could feel his body heat, his breath on my neck. I closed my eyes and just thought about him. I remembered they way his skin felt, the smell of his cologne, and the way he looked at me right before he kissed me.

I was once again alerted to the presence of the lion by it pawing at my hand. I looked at him for a moment, weary of what might be lying behind the delicate folds. I flipped my hand over so my palm was presented to him. Content with my motion he pounced into my hand and unraveled. I took a deep breath before looking down to see what he wrote.

`I am confused about everything it seems these days. But the one thing that is causing me the most confusion is you.'

Me. He was just as confused as I was. It was a relief yet also another burden. As the questions came to me I began to write them. `Me? What about me is so confusing for you?' I dropped my quill and waited for the paper to become reanimated. It soon folded itself back up and I watched as my new questions ran off to get new answers.

I seemed to have the most trouble getting answers from him, for every time I asked him a question his answers left me with even more questions than I began with. That was the one frustrating thing about speaking with Malfoy; he was such a puzzle to me. I always wondered how Malfoy thought, what was his drive in life, what made him act the way he did?

I knew barely anything about the boy I was passing notes with. I knew of his horrid father and aunt and their death eater history. I knew his history with me and his prejudice that I assume he gained from his father. I knew of Snape's favoritism of the boy, yet I didn't know where it derived from. Aside from those outer things I knew nothing of importance about his life or his history. Most of my knowledge of him was from assumptions I had made throughout our years of interaction. Aside from our rendezvous a week past I had never had a real conversation that is until today.

The lion meowed angrily at me when I did not respond to his pawing. I seemed to have drifted deeper into thought then I knew and smiled down at the small thing as I took him into my hand. He unfolded for me to reveal that mister Malfoy had provided me with many words; hopefully I would not gain many more questions from his answer.

I closed my eyes and tried to ready myself for what I was to read before glancing down at the note. `I don't really know how to describe my confusion to you without saying that you just generally confuse me. Last week...' it seemed he stopped here for his words started a little bit further from the others, `was a highly confusing and has caused a lot of confusion in my life. What we did would not have mattered much if it weren't for who you are. Since then I have...' he seemed to have stopped again, `missed you. And that fact alone has caused me a lot confusion; yet, there is more to be had when dealing with you.'

I didn't know what to say. This moment, this unguarded view into the thoughts of Malfoy was, confusing. He had missed me; he admitted that he missed me. Had I missed him? I sat there, contemplating that question. Had I truly missed him or was the fact that I was on a quest for answers what kept me thinking of him. Was it my drive to understand him and his actions the motivation behind my intense daydreams? or was there more behind that?

The lion seemed to know I needed more time contemplate my response as he folded himself back together and now played with the pages of my book. I watched him frolic as I waited for the answer to my own question, yet I didn't get one. That provoked another question; did he really miss me or was he on the same quest for answers like me? I had hoped to gain actual answers to my questions rather than more questions, but I was dealing with Malfoy and slowly learned that hoping for that was futile.

I picked up my quill and tapped the feather to my chin. What could I say to that, how could I respond to such an unguarded moment and tell him my thoughts when I didn't even know what I was truly thinking? I decided to go with what I always went with, honesty.

I motioned to the lion I was ready to write and he gladly unfolded before me. I took a deep breath and thought for another moment on how I would start before putting ink to paper. `I must admit that last week was also highly confusing for me as well. Ever since then my mind has been riddled with questions that I have desperately been seeking answers to. I am also coming to learn that when dealing with you there is also more to be had than what I ever expected.' I paused, unsure of where to go from there. Should I say I missed him in return or should I tell him my theory on it? Should I even mention it at all? I sighed as I resumed writing, `I have been thinking about you a lot lately, especially when it involves last week. I have so many questions about last week that I wish I could get answers to but I fear by asking them your answer may invoke more questions. I don't know if I could handle more questions now. I scarcely know the answers to the question I am asking myself. I am, however, glad that we are having this conversation.'

I re-read my work before nodding. I set my quill down and leaned back in my chair. I was now incredibly curious as to how he would respond, yet I knew curiosity was what got me in this position in the first place. As the little lion scampered off I wondered if this could become a regular thing between Malfoy and I. I wondered if I would find myself passing notes with him more often, if I would have more conversations with this mysterious Slytherin. I was not put off by the idea of making this a habit; in fact I hoped that this would become something.

I turned to watch the arrival of the little lion. He seemed to be tiring, his travels between us wearing on the magic placed upon him. I reached out to him and he plopped right into my hand, folding a little slower than before. I smiled at the poor thing as I read his response. `I'm glad we're having this conversation as well. I honestly thought you wouldn't respond or you would`nt listen to me. I also understand what you mean about not being able to answer your own questions, I find myself I'm having problems with that too. I hope that you find some comfort in the fact that you are not alone in that area. I would be willing to answer questions though, if you ever want to ask them. I hope that by in answer questions I might get answers in return.'

His response seemed more abrupt than the others but maybe he was reaching for words just as I was. I smiled at his sentence, `I hope that you find some comfort in the fact that you are not alone in that area.' It was comforting to know that I wasn't the only one questioning what was going on between us. I wondered where we stood and would stand if we continued these little chats. It was something that both excited yet scared me. I knew, in the back of my mind, that this could be a trap. He could be using these chats to become closer to me, break my barriers and gain information for Voldemort. I didn't want that to be true though, I wanted this to be pure and untainted for I was letting myself become comfortable with the thought of speaking with him, and I didn't want that to be something I would regret later.

I picked up my quill and did what I knew I shouldn't be doing. `I would like to ask you those questions, you think we could do this again?' I watched the lion slowly fold back together and he seemed to sigh as he scampered off back to him. I waited patiently, my nerves staying silent as I waited for the arrival of what could be a life changing answer.

The lion appeared faster than I thought he would and with renewed energy. He scampered up into my palm and showed me the words that would affect me for the rest of my life. `I would really like to do this again. Until then, Hermione.'

I smiled and wrote my response as I sent the lion on his way. I wrapped myself in his cloak as I looked around the empty library before gathering my things. I left the library with a smile, his cologne still lingering on the cloth.

Little did I know that a pair of grey eyes followed my retreating back, a smile playing across pale lips as the owner read my words, `Until then, Draco.'

Author Note: So here is the next installment of passing notes. I got the idea of origami notes from PotterEntourage on my coloured grey account. I liked the idea and ran with it thus creating this moment between them. Also thank you to everyone who reviewed and to my wonderful beta Stephanie, you all rock my socks. I also want to give a special shout out to my best friend Ted who kept me in character and put up with me ignoring him to write this, he deserves cookies and hugs. I hoped you all enjoyed it and please let me know what you thought. Much love and thanks.