Summary: How Harry Potter seduces Draco Malfoy.
Notes: I'm not much into writing smut. So this isn't it.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Draco Malfoy watches him.
It's a good thing that he doesn't get caught, either, or else he's certain that he would be hexed or cursed or some similar form of bodily harm resulting from Potter Lackey number one or two. He doubts that he'd be able to stand having his perfect face marred. There's a sudden flash of Potter in his Quidditch robes, unadulterated anger in his eyes, the pain seems to come back to him and he shudders. Later that night, he dreams about the scene and wakes up in a cold sweat.
Potter likes to suck on sugar quills during Potions, when he's not casting deathly glares in Snape's direction, that is. Draco watches him, and wonders what it tastes like. He's suddenly not sure if he's wondering about the quills or Potter's mouth. He shifts positions uncomfortably in his seat and looks up when Snape calls on him, at a loss for words for the first time in six years. Snape gives him an odd look, and Draco looks away, anywhere but at Snape or Potter. He doesn't lose any house points, but he avoids looking at Potter for the rest of the day.
Draco once cast a trip jinx on Weasel. He wasn't really thinking about it, in all honesty, and he was genuinely surprised when it actually worked, but he didn't show it. He hadn't cast a trip jinx since the year before in order to catch Potter in the act of doing something likely nefarious, he remembers fondly.
Weasel looks about ready to burst with rage. He jumps to his feet rather clumsily, with Mudblood and Potter in tow, of course. Draco leans back on the wall and smirks with casual indifference, although he has his wand drawn, just in case.
"The ground suits you, Weasel. Don't you have a hole to crawl into? Your house is not called 'The Burrow' for nothing, after all."
Draco doesn't have time to think when Weasel throws a punch and hits him squarely in the jaw. The last thing he thinks before falling to the ground and blacking out is, it comes as no surprise that Weasel would resort to such barbaric tactics.
The next time Draco encounters Potter, he is in the library researching a topic for History of Magic. It's one in the morning and he's determined to get it done before the next day, even though it isn't due for a few more days yet. Draco is bent over his work when Potter walks in. He looks up and Potter is glaring at him warily. They both stare at each other for longer than really necessary, the tension in the room having gone up a few notches. Potter hesitates a moment before pulling up a chair and dumping his homework on the table adjoining Draco's. He's openly staring at him now and Draco shifts uncomfortably in his seat, casting wary looks in Potter's general direction.
They work in silence for about ten minutes when Draco finally drawls, "I could write you up, you know. I could give you detention with Snape. It's after hours and I, unlike you, am a prefect."
That's all he says and Draco looks at him then, bewildered, and very tempted to give him a week's worth of detentions with his favorite Potions Master. Potter hasn't looked up. Draco wants him to look up, to look at him. But he doesn't.
He doesn't give him detention, either.
Draco has this fixation with Potter's hands. He watches him jot down notes in his messy scrawl during Potions. Fingers curved around the quill, working rapidly, jerking occasionally, dipping in the ink. He's bringing the quill up to his mouth to chew on again. Draco can't seem to take his eyes away from him, even though he knows that if Snape calls on him again he'll likely get a few points knocked off Slytherin. He bites his bottom lip and finally brings his eyes up to Potter's.
He's staring back at him with a look of curiosity.
It's like an electric current shooting through him and it causes Draco to jerk violently in his seat, averting his gaze in an instant and staring moodily at his parchments. He scowls, hoping Potter is still looking at him, hoping Potter still knows he hates him. He doesn't look at him again for the rest of the day.
Draco is leaning casually against a nearby tree during Care of Magical Creatures. He watches Longbottom attempt to catch an imp but he only fails miserably. Draco chuckles to himself quietly when Potter wheels around and glares at him angrily. He doesn't say anything and Draco's smirk instantly turns into a scowl before he looks away. He can't look at Potter anymore. He can't watch him anymore.
The ironic part of his decision being that it is not he who watches Potter anymore, but rather the other way around. All he would have to be doing is sitting there during lunch or in Potions or in Care of Magical Creatures, and he could feel someone looking at him. He'd casually scan the room and that is when he would catch Potter. Every time Draco notices Potter staring at him, he glares back in what he hopes is a menacing fashion. And Potter would just blink and look away. No reaction at all.
It drove Draco mad.
Everywhere he turns, there is Potter staring at him. He doesn't understand what this fixation with him is all about, but it begins to make him annoyingly uncomfortable and he often pictures himself openly hexing those eyes out of his sockets. At least it would stop the staring as well as cause him due anguish and pain.
It came to a point where he becomes irritable and agitated. He won't go down to eat at the same times Potter does, and he refuses to be in the same room with him outside of class. He purposely bumps violently into him in the hallway, in order to put him in his place and make Potter realize that he is going about this hatred business all wrong. Draco is the enemy, not some freak show who is looked upon with mild amusement.
Draco is doing his rounds as Prefect late one night when he comes upon Potter again. He walks into the Astronomy tower and there he is, just sitting there looking like a lost little boy. Draco doesn't say anything, instead he just watches Potter and he realizes how much he misses doing so. He's thinking about how much he wants to touch Potter's hair when Potter suddenly turns around and stares at him with those damnable eyes. A surge of anger shoots through Draco, and before he can think he is shouting.
"This has got to stop, Potter! I demand you stop staring at me all the bloody time! Don't you have anything better to look at, for Merlin's sake?"
Potter merely blinks again and doesn't say anything. This only infuriates Draco all the more.
"What the bloody hell is wrong with you!?"
Potter stands up then and dusts himself off. Draco immediately takes a wary step back, suddenly a bit worried as to what Potter is about to do. Was he going to hex him, now? Were they going to fight, finally? It's been so long, Draco is ready for a good fight. He's drawing his wand out when he notices that Potter is holding onto something. Upon further inspection he notices that it is a sugar quill.
Potter's eyes never leave his as he brings it up to his mouth to suck on. Draco's eyes go wide with horror, and he takes another step back. What is Potter playing at? What is the meaning of this? He should get out of here. He has to get away from him. Now.
He wants to tell him that he's going to give him detention. This is the second time that he's caught him out after curfew, and he's not feeling particularly generous at the moment. The thought dies rapidly, however, because he's far too busy watching that agile tongue and perfect mouth. Draco is suddenly very jealous of that damn quill.
Potter is moving closer to him but Draco doesn't notice. He's transfixed. He's barely aware of anything around him, all he sees is Potter. He can feel his heart rate shoot up rapidly and his breathing quicken suddenly. He licks his lips and he can practically feel the blood rushing to the lower part of his body. He doesn't realize how foolish he might look, blatantly staring at Potter devour that damn sugar quill.
He is really close to him now, Draco finally realizes. Still looking at him, Potter takes the quill out of his mouth and licks his lips, looking at Draco with half-lidded eyes. He speaks finally, quietly.
"Want a taste?"