Every year, on the train to Hogwarts, Draco makes a list of what he plans to accomplish the coming school term. The first year, Draco proudly read it out loud to the Slytherins in their common room, to cheers and applause and just a bit of confused murmuring.
The first item on that list, already crossed off, was: I will be chosen for Slytherin. It got the cheers.
The second item, heavily underlined, was: I will befriend Harry Potter. It got the confused murmurs.
By the end of the year, Draco had accomplished so few of the goals on his list that he didn't bother to re-read it out loud, as he had planned to do. A few Slytherins asked, mostly mockingly, but were turned away by Draco's sneered reply of, "Why do you care so much about my accomplishments, anyway? Haven't got enough of your own?"
The next year, he made another list; he just kept it to himself. Now it was fifth year, and Vincent and Greg were sitting across from Draco on the Hogwarts train, watching as he crumbled sheet after sheet of paper into tiny projectiles to be launched at their heads.
After the third paper ball bounced off Vincent's head, Gregory asked hesitantly, "Um, Draco? Is anything…wrong?"
Draco, who was tapping the feather-end of his quill irritably against his forehead, looked up. "No. Now be quiet."
Gregory and Vincent complied, sharing wide-eyed 'uh-oh' looks. When the fourth paper ball hit Vincent in the nose, he said, "Um, Draco? Maybe instead of a list this year, you should just have one big…plan. You know, sort of like the Dark Lord has?"
Draco's head shot up, and Vincent and Gregory exchanged another look. Uh-oh
"Its just, you know," Gregory said quickly, "one plan is a lot easier to, um, accomplish than a whole list of things, right?"
"A plan?" Draco said coldly. "Like the Dark Lord? So, you're suggesting that I just sort of throw some random evil thing into the mix, and then wait around to be miserably humiliated by the opposition? Ugly, stupid Harry Potter and his team of Gryffindor followers? Bloody brilliant!" He rolled his final piece of parchment at Greg's head, then left the train compartment in a huff.
After Draco left, Vin and Greg glanced at each other, and then down at the last piece of paper, crumbled at their feet. Vincent reached down very slowly to pick it up, and Gregory smoothed it out.
1. I will catch the snitch, preferably just out of Potter's grasp.
2. I will give Vincent and Greg one last chance to display some brains.
3. I will say no to Pansy.
4. I will take Father's advice, and ignore Potter.
5. I will not-----The rest of it was scribbled out, with only the word 'Harry' slightly legible. Gregory and Vioncent looked at each other.
"We'll just...have to do better," Vincent said.
"I thought we were doing pretty well already," Greg said with a sigh, biting the head off a chocolate frog. "It isn't our fault Hermione and them are so bloody smart."
Vincent just shrugged. "What do you think the last thing on the list is?"
"Dunno. Don't expect he wants us to know about it, at any rate."
"Hmm." Vincent picked up another crumbled piece of paper and showed it to Greg. "You know, that's three on this list that are all about Harry Potter. And every time we mention Potter's name, he gets all…jumpy. Think it means anything?"
"Prob'ly not." Greg tilted his head and listened. He could just make out the sound of Draco yelling at someone in the hall. At least this time it wasn't him and Vincent. "Well, maybe."
"You know, this is the first year Draco hasn't finished his list." Vincent looked like he'd made up his mind to be worried.
"Hmm." Greg bit the legs off his chocolate frog and tried not to agree with him.
* * * It'd been nine days since school started, and Harry was beginning to get frantic. It really would have been amusing to see if Harry wasn't so earnest about it.
"It's been nine days, Hermione. Nine days, and he hasn't said anything to me. Hasn't even looked at me!"
Hermione thought about telling Harry that this sounded suspiciously like one of her conversations with Ginny, but no. Ginny could cast a mean curse if you crossed her when it came to Harry. Just thinking about it made Hermione rub her teeth in anticipation.
Harry noticed."Are you listening to me, Hermione? This is serious!"
Ron spoke up, through a mouthful of toast and jam. "You know, Harry, I'd think you'd be glad. You know, just for the peace and quiet."
Harry frowned, pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger. "You're spitting toast all over me." Ron shut his mouth tight. "And this isn't peace and quiet. This is the calm before the storm." His green eyes gleamed in a way that made Hermione roll her eyes. And snicker. Just a bit.
That set Ron on a laughing fit, thankfully free of flying toast bits. Harry looked back and forth, open-mouthed, between his two best friends. Finally he settled back on the bench, arms crossed, and scowled at the two of them. "Fine. Go ahead and laugh-"
"Thank you, I believe we were," said Hermione coolly.
"-But just you wait." Harry widened his eyes meaningfully. "I'm telling you, Hermione. Malfoy has some evil plan up his sleeve. Just. You. Wait."
Of course, Harry being Harry, he couldn't possibly take his own advice and just wait. On the tenth day, he just sat across the room from Draco and glared. On the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth days, Harry crept infinitesimally closer, while still keeping up the glaring plan.
Of course, on the fourteenth day, that all sort of fell apart. "Two weeks," Harry'd said mournfully that day at breakfast. "Two weeks, and Draco still hasn't even looked at me."
Hermione was so shocked at his tone that she didn't even have a chance to point out that he'd said Draco.
Harry and Malfoy had three classes together. During the first, which Hermione didn't share with them, she had no idea what happened. The second and third classes, though, were an opportunity for her to observe the pure patheticness of Harry.
In Charms, he sat right next to Malfoy. Apparently having abandoned the glaring, he just sort of stared a bit, while Malfoy made notes, talked to Crabbe and Goyle, and sat quietly for a bit. In Potions, the seat next to Malfoy was taken, so Harry sat behind him, apparently attempting to burn holes in the back of Malfoy's robe with his eyes. Ron tried not to laugh while Hermione buried her head in her hands. Snape took away twenty points from Harry for 'looking like an ignoramus'.
Harry did not particularly seem to care, as he was focused on the fact that everyone but Malfoy had turned to look at him.
That night, Hermione found a crumpled up piece of parchment in the Gryffindor common room. It was in Harry's handwriting, right next to the chair Harry had been sitting in just that very night. It said:
Things Draco Does Not Do Anymore
1. Mock me
2. Trip me
3. Laugh at me
4. Glare at me
5. Whisper loudly about me behind my back
6. Get me in trouble with Snape
7. Look at meWhat To Do About It
1. Poke him
2. Stare at him
3. Make noises
4. Cast...something on him (ask Hermione for suggestions later)
5. ------ himNumber five was crossed out, and all that was legible was 'him.' Hermione threw it into the fire and tried very hard not to be worried. Harry and obsessions were just bad news. Harry and plans were even worse news.
The next day, he sat next to Malfoy in Charms again. He tapped his wand against the edge of Malfoy's desk to the tune of a Muggle song Hermione recognized from the radio. When that didn't work, he kicked at the legs of Malfoy's chair, in tune with the same song. Malfoy had just turned a coolly unamused stare on him when Professor Flitwick announced the end of class. Hermione tried not to notice how crestfallen Harry looked.
In Potions, Harry managed to snag the seat behind Malfoy again. During class, he managed to blow on the back of Malfoy's neck, poke him just below the hairline with his wand, and attempt several loud, unconvincing, amateurish sniffs, all of it without getting caught by Snape. Only the sniffs provoked a reaction. Without speaking, Draco pulled an immaculate white handkerchief from his robes and held it over his shoulder. He didn't even look behind him as Harry took it from his fingers.
"Thanks," Harry said quietly, tucking it into his own robes. Hermione was making a show of looking over her notes, but she thought she saw Draco give a single, curt nod, eyes fixed firmly on his own parchment.
That night, Harry was quieter than usual. Ron and the others tried to draw him out with Slytherin jokes, but without Malfoy and his crew trying to get Harry in trouble and acting like idiots, there was sort of no point. Besides, it just seemed to make Harry quieter. The thing was, it wasn't exactly a depressed sort of quiet. It was a planning sort of quiet.
Hermione sat back in her chair and tried very, very hard not to be worried.
* * * "Just stay behind during Potions class," Hermione had said. "I want you to keep an eye on Harry. I think he's planning something."
"Planning what?" Ron had said, already despairing at the thought of missing supper. They were going to have cake that night, for somebody's birthday. Raspberry cake.
"I don't know, exactly. But it involves Malfoy. You know Harry's been sort of…odd, lately."
"Odd?" Ron hadn't been able to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "Really? I hadn't noticed. Oh-wait. Did you mean the thing where he's obsessed with the fact that Malfoy hasn't been looking at him, conveniently ignoring the fact that Malfoy not looking at him equals Malfoy not talking to him, which makes our life ever so much easier? No, no, can't say that I've noticed."
Hermione just folded her arms and glared at him. A really good, settling-back-to-do-this-for-awhile glare. Ron held his hands up in defeat. "Okay, okay! I'll wait outside Potions. But only for fifteen minutes."
"Thank you, Ron."
"And you'd better save me a piece of cake."
"Is that all you think of, Ron? Your stomach?" she said, but it was with one of those smiles that definitely didn't make Ron think of his stomach. Well, except in the way that it did acrobatic flips when she looked at him like that.
And that was how he ended up here, hiding behind a pillar outside the Potions classroom. Luckily he didn't have to wait long. Right after being dismissed, everyone was quickly on their way towards the cafeteria, lured by the scent of raspberries. Even Crabbe and Goyle were, unsurprisingly, willing to slip away from Malfoy's side in an attempt to get to the food faster.
Malfoy himself was lingering at the Potions door, attempting to follow the rest of the crowd. He was detained by Harry's hand, which was firmly clutching the back of his robe. It was actually fairly amusing to watch-Malfoy attempted to walk, was jerked back by Harry, tried to pull his robe from Harry's hands without turning around, and failed miserably. Finally he stopped, took a deep breath, and said, as slowly and coldly as possible, "Potter. Is there something I can do for you?"
Harry let go of Malfoy's robe, but waited till the other boy turned around to speak. Then he took something white out of his pocket. "Here," he said, tucking it into Malfoy's robes, "is your handkerchief." Then he poked Malfoy firmly in the chest. "Why are you ignoring me?"
Ron's eyes widened, and he closed his hand around his wand in expectation of having to run out there to save Harry's hide. He expected Malfoy to push Harry, cast a spell on him, something. All that happened, though, was a smile flitted over Malfoy's lips, and was quickly gone, replaced by his usual imperious look. "Oh." He poked Harry in the chest, but gently. "Do you want some attention?" He poked again, and this time the smile was back. Ron had no idea that Draco could look so charming.
Harry seemed a little thrown himself. "Um."
"Well?" Draco poked again, and this time he raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to Harry.
"Oh," Ron heard Harry say. He sounded surprised. And then happy. This was getting weird. "Yes," Harry apparently decided. "Yes, I do."
For a long moment, they just looked at each other, and that lazy grin was still on Malfoy's face. Something very weird was going on. Ron was sure of it.
He was especially sure of it when he saw Malfoy's cheeks pinken, just a bit. Malfoy looked at the floor, and then up at Harry, and then he set his chin. "All right then," he said, and poked Harry once more on the chest. Not too surprising-Draco did always like to have the last word.
But then he slid the rest of his fingers there, too, letting them brush against the crest of Harry's robe. They moved up, to Harry's shoulder, and then up again, to his chin, tilting it back.
Harry said, "Yes," again, very very softly, and then Malfoy was kissing him.
At that sight, Ron's jaw dropped open, and he scrubbed his hands desperately over his eyes in the hopes that the awful sight would be erased. But no, it must have been burned into his retinas, because when he opened them again, Harry and Malfoy were still there. Kissing.
Harry was right. It was the first thing that popped into Ron's mind, and it must have been true. You-Know-Who must have been planning something truly evil if it ended with Harry and Malfoy, kissing. Or-oh, bloody hell! What if this wasn't the end of the plan? What if the rest of it involved Harry and Malfoy necking, shagging, getting married?
Or, wait. Maybe Hermione was right. Maybe this was Harry's plan all along. Ron didn't know what sort of plan Harry would come up with that could possibly involve snogging Draco Malfoy, but, well--the hero does have make sacrifices, after all.
Neither explanation really made any sense, but it was all that was keeping Ron sane at that moment. At the sight of Harry and Malfoy kissing, his brain had tried very hard to dribble out of his ears, and coming up with absurd explanations seemed to have been all that wa saving it.
Ron looked out from behind the pillar again. Harry's head was still tilted back, and Malfoy's lips were pressed just beneath his ear Harry's hands kept clenching and unclenching on Malfoy's shoulders, and his eyes were shut tight. Malfoy had a little smile on his face, but unfortunately his tongue, flickering pink against the white of Harry's skin, saved it from being completely evil.
"You know," Draco said quietly, "this wasn't actually on my list for the year."
Harry's eyes opened with a flutter of black lashes, and then he smiled, brushing his lips against Malfoy's cheekbone. "Well," he said, "that makes two of us."
So much for those theories. Ron waited until they left for parts unknown, and then walked in a daze to the cafeteria.
"Well?" Hermione asked eagerly. "What happened?"
Ron just ate his cake and tried very hard not to be worried.