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this is just... a ficlet, except it got out of hand. i hope you like. tried to make it fluffy but y'know... not too much. hee.



Disclaimer: not mine.

Warning: er. slash? the usual, H/D.

Dedication: for Ashura & Nancy, since I wouldn't have written this without the whole birthday thing to inspire me~:)


~~Little Details.


"Yes, Malfoy, I am," said Harry confidently.

Draco blinked, several times, wondering if he was hearing things. Was Potter... talking to him? He resisted the urge to look around, checking if there was anyone else finishing up in the largely empty Potions classroom, but no, he'd said "Malfoy", quite clearly in fact, and everyone knew there was only one Malfoy this school could handle at a time. Harry stared at him with complete assurance, appearing not to blink at all. Draco was at a loss for words, which worried him, and he was staring right back at Potter, which worried him even more.

"You're what, Potter? Loony? Yes well, we all knew that, and the sky is blue, and I'm going to be late for Arithmancy, so if you'll excuse me," he mumbled, trying to walk past the other boy without it seeming too much like he was hurrying. Because he wasn't.

"Yes you are," said Harry, his lips twitching a little now. Draco felt himself break out in cold sweat. He didn't say anything. Did he?

"I am?" Draco said blankly, before he remembered his sneer and added, "Well, of course I am. We all know I am. And you're not. Everyone knows that." His brow furrowed, and he felt he was just digging himself in deeper, except he didn't know where he was, exactly, so it was all vaguely confusing. Did he remember to take his pills this morning, Draco wondered? He -thought- he did....

Harry burst out laughing. "I should've known, Malfoy," he managed, before dissolving into further giggles. "You--" he gasped. "You really are that bad off, aren't you."

Draco was beginning to flush in anger. He didn't like being at the butt of anyone's joke, but especially, most especially not Harry-bleeding-Potter's. "What's this all about, Potter?" he said imperiously, standing rigidly upright next to Potter's desk, at which Potter was still lounging carelessly like nothing was the matter. Obviously, the inevitable had happened and Potter had gone stark raving mad. Not that he was surprised, of course. He always knew the strain would soon get to him. It was only a matter of time.

"I'm not, actually. Not at all. You are, though," Harry smirked. "Oh, you're really in trouble now, Malfoy. I'm almost sorry for you." He looked up, as if considering his last statement. "Then again, no, I'm not."

"Potter!"

Not thinking clearly, Draco lunged at him, grabbing him by the garish red-and-gold tie and tugging Harry up, towards him. Harry made a small choking sound, apparently not having counted on getting Draco to resort to physical contact. "All right, all right, I'll stop!" Harry cried roughly. "Just let me go, will you?"

Draco's left eyelid twitched distrustingly, but he wanted to see what Potter could possibly have to say for himself now. He was merciful enough to give him a half-chance to explain himself. Maybe.

But Harry was just sitting, catching his breath, not saying anything, and Draco could feel his rage returning, like the distant sound of claws on wood, approaching. "Well? What the hell are you on about, Potter?" He tried to stare witheringly into Potter's wide green eyes, but the other boy wasn't cooperating, and staring fixedly at some spot on his workbench. Draco wondered distantly how it was possible to be bewildered, exasperated and enraged at the same time.

"I don't know, but if anyone can do it, you can," Potter muttered, and then sucked in a quick breath, his eyes flitting briefly to meet Draco's. It was obvious by now that something was definitely off, given that neither of them were insane, and Draco was starting to have his suspicions, most of which left a devious smile on his face. Not that this is -illegal-, exactly, but it was quite, quite close. Draco almost hummed with pleasure. Potter really -was- a moron. Not that he was surprised, of course.

"Care to tell me what in -bloody hell- you're talking about, Potter? Or perhaps you'd like me to make an educated guess. Though I don't think you'd like that much. And then I could always straight out -tell you- what I think. Better yet, I could always tell Professor Snape," Draco said, his tone pleasantly surprised, as if he'd just thought of it. But he was grinning widely, like he'd already gotten away with something.

Harry squirmed. -He- was the one who'd gotten away with something, but he couldn't really fool himself for long, since he knew exactly what Malfoy thought he knew. It was entirely too cruel that he had to be right. Was it really that obvious? He wondered if now was a good time to just make a break for it. His eyes strayed longingly to the door, and Malfoy must've noticed, because he spoke again, forestalling him.

"I -might- consider not telling anyone you have it, -if- you hand it over to me right this minute." Draco was quite proud of himself, because his voice was quite smooth, and there was definite turn-about by now, in terms of who was calling the shots. He had quite a few unique artifacts in his possession already (it didn't matter that most of them needed some missing component to make them effective, or would only work if he were a female purebred Veela-- it was the having that was important, maybe even mores than the using). Still, this would be a crowning jewel of his treasury; there was no doubt of that. And to have gotten it from Potter-- under duress-- oh, that just made the icing on the cake.

Harry blanched. "I-- I can't."

Draco's eyebrows shot up, in genuine surprise. His method of blackmail was perfect in every way. Perfect. "You... -can't-?" he echoed. "Can't? Don't kid a kidder, Potter. You know you can, or you know what will happen, don't you."

"No," said Harry in a small voice. "I -can't-. It's not mine to give you, Malfoy. I was just... borrowing it. He doesn't know I have it, and I can't. He can't know. Especially not that I gave it to -you- of all people," he said, his lips curling like he'd tasted something sour. His hand was in one roomy pocket of his robes, fingering some round-shaped object nervously. Draco would've been annoyed with this new development, but the knowledge that the artifact was so close at hand, so ripe for the getting, made him rather more easy-going than usual.

"All right," he allowed, smiling brightly. Harry looked rather disturbed (not to say shocked) at the sight of it, so Draco smiled wider. "So you can't, you say. Not yours to give me, you say. Fine. I can be generous too, Potter. Make me an offer, then. Something that's yours to give me, and once you do, I'll just-- forget this ever happened. What do you say?"

Harry blinked at him, looking cautious though slightly relieved. He supposed he was at fault for using the Sphere of Seeing for a (perfectly understandable) scan of Malfoy's mind. Who knew what that git was plotting lately? He'd been lying low, being too quiet, and that had been making both him and Ron, and even Hermione nervous. And then, when he was supposed to hold on to the Sphere until Sirius returned for it in a week, it had just seemed like the perfect opportunity, just to make sure....

Of course, he was an idiot for exposing himself this way. He just couldn't resist playing with Malfoy's mind though, and if he thought about it, that was quite a disturbing realization. It certainly wasn't the most heroic thing he'd ever done, to put it lightly. Maybe even being around Malfoy messed with his priorities and values somehow. That must be it. He became more Slytherin-like just being this close to Malfoy. Maybe that was why....

"Depends," Harry said finally. "What do you want that I have?"

Malfoy smirked. Oh, this was too easy. "Oh, Potter. I'm not the mind-reader, here. You are. Why don't -you- tell -me-?"

Harry knew of absolutely no reason why this should make his heart speed up to the point where he almost felt dizzy. It was a reasonable enough thing to say, he supposed. Yet, he wasn't thinking of his invisibility cloak for some reason (even though he'd never give -that- up, that was his father's, and there was just no -way-, not to -Malfoy-). And Malfoy actually did seem to have something in mind, now that he paid attention....

Harry's eyes widened dramatically, and his jaw dropped slightly. Malfoy was just messing with -his- mind now, that was all. Harry pressed his lips together, snapping, "Well, that's just ludicrous." He hated sounding like Hermione, but sometimes he caught himself lapsing into it when he was startled. Still, it was better than catching himself sounding like Malfoy, for instance. Harry shuddered.

Malfoy chuckled. "So I'm gathering there's something about that which disturbs you. Doesn't matter, I always knew you Gryffindors were prudes." Harry glared, but didn't feel it was in his best interests to contradict him. "Anyway, there is something else you could do. Just give me the Sphere for a few minutes. You can stay here while I have it. In fact, I insist." Malfoy smiled predatorily, and Harry couldn't believe he'd really thought that stupid ferret had actually....

"Fine. But I'm locking the door with a spell only I can break, just so you know," Harry said, hoping he sounded like he had all the brisk confidence he didn't feel.

"Fair is fair, all that. You Gryffindors care about that sort of thing, don't you," Malfoy sneered.

"Like you'd know anything about that, Malfoy."

"Like I'd -want- to. Well, hand it over, Potter. I've already missed half of my lunch, I don't fancy being late to my classes, unlike you."

Harry glared at him for all he was worth, wishing he suddenly acquired the power to turn people to stone if they annoyed him enough. He'd given his word though, so there wasn't much to be done now. Wincing, he reached into his robes and pulled out the softly glowing sphere, lit from within by several layers of pulsating, flowing streams of color. It really was beautiful. He held it out.

Malfoy's fingers curled gently around the delicate-looking ball, though Harry knew it wasn't that easily damaged. He tried to keep his mind as free and clear as possible, thinking fixedly of static. Spring grass. Elephants. Dumbledore. Dumbledore's hat. Dumbledore's hat was really pointy, as well as droopy. Of course, everyone's hats were pointy in Hogwarts. He didn't even think that was unusual anymore. His own hat barely registered as being on his head, most of time, though it wasn't right now. No, no hat.

"You don't need to go to all that trouble, Potter. I, for one, actually know how to -use- this thing."

"Huh?" Harry wasn't panicking, but he couldn't rule anything out, now that he couldn't check by paying more attention to a certain voice in the background. Malfoy's mind-voice didn't sound as whiny and arrogant, so it was easily distinguishable. Not that it was -pleasant- by any stretch of the imagination.... Then again, nothing about Malfoy was pleasant.

"Oh, Potter. Really? I'm flattered, I must say," said the silver-haired menace beside him. "You don't need to actually -think- something for me to know. You can also feel it, and dream it, consciously or not, doesn't matter. I will know now." Oh, this felt good. Potter was squirming more than ever. Draco could tell he didn't know whether to believe him, and that, more than anything, was what was making Potter nervous. It was great.

"Well, fine. I have nothing to hide from -you- Malfoy," Harry said heatedly, before he did a double take, having probably just realized what he'd said. Okay, so that was a blatant lie, though it did sound good.

"I know you don't," Draco smirked. "Not anymore, anyway." He caressed the glowing sphere with delicate fingers, trailing his index finger down the center, a slight smile lingering on his lips. "Hmmm.... Father will be quite interested in -that- little development, that's for certain," he said, pausing to savor the look on Potter's face. "-If- I told him, that is."

"That's -it-, Malfoy. You can't blackmail me anymore. I'm done, and so are you. Time's up. Give it back-- now," Harry said, advancing a bit on the slighter boy.

"Aww, Potter. You're no fun," Draco pouted. "Don't you want to play more?" He smirked at Harry's faint blush. He was really good at incriminating himself, it seemed, and it was really almost... endearing. Except it wasn't, not at all. "Spoil-sport. One more thing, then."

"What?" said Harry warily, feeling cornered. Ron might actually come looking for him soon. He hadn't exactly told him....

"Just tell me, and you're free. I want to hear you tell me the -real- truth about why you used the Sphere on me." Draco was sneering, and doing a pretty good job at it as usual. No one would have ever guessed he was trying not to giggle hysterically, endlessly amused with himself and his bluffs (as usual).

Harry swallowed thickly, thinking fast. There was no way he could have guessed anything. In fact, there was nothing to guess. There was nothing to say, and nothing to ask, and he should really be going now, if only he hadn't been stupid enough to give the sphere to Malfoy, oh what was he thinking.... "If you're asking, then you know already, so just leave me alone and give the bloody Sphere back, Malfoy!" he cried, stressed and more than a little exasperated by now.

"No way. You tell me, or we stay here until next Potions class, which is in oh... three hours," Draco said smugly. He felt fairly -flushed- with self-satisfaction. "And I'm sure Snape will see things my way in this matter, don't you?"

Harry felt dangerously close to blowing up, and he -really- didn't want to do any such thing in front of Malfoy, of all people. What had possessed him? Oh yes, he remembered. Or rather, he didn't, really he didn't. He tried to think of elephants frantically. Malfoy was grinning again, and Harry just wanted to sink through the thick solid-stone floor right that moment more than he'd ever wanted anything, except his mum and dad back.

Harry closed his eyes, resigned to having brought this latest disaster upon himself. "Fine. You know why. I don't know why you need to hear me say it, but -fine-. Mind you, this was forty minutes ago, and things are totally, utterly, -completely- different now. But, I wanted to know if you... if you...."

"Yeeess?" Malfoy said in a horrible, sing-song voice.

"If you--" Potter seemed to be choking on the rest of that sentence, his throat working but no sound coming out. Draco didn't know -why- he was pressing this, considering, but it was just so -irresistible-, seeing the other boy in such distress, and knowing that he could intensify it and make it all that much more... torturous. Because torture was what this was all about. Also, he wanted to be sure. "Felt it. Too. Even though I don't. And I-- didn't. I was just curious, that's all. And I heard you, so...."

Draco's expression soured. "Heard me? You -couldn't- have heard anything, Potter. I was thinking entirely about what I want for lunch. I was-- I am-- very hungry, you know."

"Whatever," Harry snapped, reaching for the sphere. "Just give it back, Malfoy."

Draco sidestepped him, holding the glowing ball closer to his chest. The sphere was now streaked with much more crimson than it had been previously, and Harry wondered why fleetingly, before he walked the few steps to take him virtually nose-to-nose with Malfoy. He wasn't thinking of anything but calmly taking the sphere out of Malfoy's hands when his fingers were reaching, wrapping partly around smooth, cool glass and partly around the pale skin of Malfoy's own hand.

Draco gasped as what felt like the strongest jolt of static electricity passed through his arm, buzzing strangely down his spine. He didn't like it, and in fact, he hated it. He really hated it. He stared at Potter, taken aback by the other boy's unpremeditated approach. He really hated Potter.

"No you don't," said Harry calmly, and their eyes met. Draco's eyes were such pale translucent grey; Harry thought there must be colors hiding in them somewhere, waiting for the right cue to touch the surface. Colors like secrets, the truth hidden beneath layers of words which turned opaque as if mist covered their surface. Was he mad to think he could actually see through them, like they were merely glass? There was nothing there but false light. Beautiful but false. He just couldn't stop looking.

Draco felt a little dizzy. Why was the room spinning? "Did you really think--?"

"Well, that was just-- a little detail," Harry managed to protest, before Malfoy had found more innovative uses for his mouth. Their hands were wrapped tightly around the sphere and each other's fingers, squeezing tighter as their kiss grew wilder, and if they could, they would've seen an eerily beautiful aurora sweeping across the reflective surface of the sphere. The colors were growing more and more intense, and light was actually beaming from the spaces in between their fingers in rhythmic pulses, not that either of them noticed.

They weren't really communicating with words, so there was nothing most people would recognize as secrets being shared, but for that brief moment, they thought they understood, thought they shared a similar tightness in their chests, a similar bright song pouring through the hollow spaces inside them, filling them with light.

Forgetting everything but the need to touch and feel and get closer still, they scrambled for each other's bodies at almost the same time, their hands loosening their grip on the sphere, barely even noticing, until it dropped.

There was a loud explosion, colors shooting wildly out of what now looked like just shards of frosted glass on the floor. Both of their ears were ringing, and Harry just stared at Draco, and then at the floor, and then at Draco again, his fingers clutching at the other boy's robes without realizing. Draco wasn't making any move to get away, and neither of them were quite able to speak yet. Harry couldn't completely process what had just happened, and Draco wasn't being a great help either, staring numbly at the kaleidoscope of tinted light dancing at their feet.

They both jumped, when what seemed like just a few moments later (even though it wasn't), there was a loud commotion by the locked door, and what sounded like Ron's voice, calling his name rather loudly.

"Harry!" he yelled. "What's Malfoy done to you? Hang on, I'm coming!"

Harry sighed, as the door rattled and fizzed with bright sparks at the key-hole, thinking he was going to let Malfoy think of something to say to get them out of this mess. He'd had quite enough schemes for one day, that much was clear.
~~
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the artist formerly known as lunacy

October 2012

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