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By Bracken Feedback: Oh, please? I'll love you forever Author's Notes: Thanks to all you reviewers, I love you guys! Oh, where I come from 33 and a 1/3% is what you need to pass standard grade Mathematics. Currently, I'm not doing so good… Dedication: To Tasha again. Don't forget the seduction of J. We have to brush up on *our* skills… Chapter Three: On His Knees Harry blended into the woodwork until Potions. Him and Ron were delegated to a large school cauldron right next to the one that Draco and Crabbe were working at. Ron and Harry went about working diligently. Harry soon saw his opportunity. The most crucial stage of *this* potion was the stirring. It had to be stirred thirty-three and a third times clockwise at intermediate speed. Harry left the task to Ron and Draco handed it over to Crabbe (presumably the oaf could count that high). Soon the two stirring were completely absorbed in counting and measuring the strokes of their large stirring sticks. Harry meanwhile, was holding a tiny cloth pouch of the next ingredient to be added: little round flame red seeds the size of marbles. Harry watched the floor until he saw that the tips of Draco's shoes were pointed in his direction. It seemed that Draco had turned around and was resting back against his warm, simmering cauldron. Harry loosened the opening of the pouch and spilled the little seeds on the floor around his feet so inconspicuously that no one around him seemed to notice. Harry smiled to himself. Heh, he could be devious. Harry, with his back still to Draco, bent and began to gather up the seeds. Of course, bending in such a small space, in front of Draco, had its effects on Draco's breathing. Harry felt a surge of triumph at the sound of Draco's sharp inhalation. He could get used to this kind of power. It was then that Harry noticed that some of the seeds had fallen further away, coming to rest around Draco's feet. **Oh!**thought Harry, **This could get very interesting very fast.** Harry swiveled on the balls of his feet until he was facing Draco. He planted both knees firmly on the stone floors and continued to slowly gather the seeds. Abstractly, he paused to marvel at the fact that he alone had engineered this scene: that here he was kneeling before Draco, head bowed, eyes on the floor. And most amazingly, in a room full of people who hadn't noticed but who's presence hindered Draco's ability to do anything but watch. And Harry knew he was watching, he could feel the intense gaze on him. He shuddered and reached for the last seed, resting behind the triangle of space that was Draco's open legs. Harry reached between his feet for the seed, purposely brushing his arm against Draco's calf, feeling the muscles quiver at the contact. It was only then that Harry looked up, found Draco staring down at him, very much aware of their positions and beginning to flush ever so slightly. Harry let his eyes grow wide and innocent. "Sorry 'bout that." He whispered guilelessly to Draco and licked his lips to draw attention to them before lifting the last rescued seed to them and gently blowing it clean. Rising up off his knees, Harry brushed the entire length of his body against Draco's, until face to face with the shaken boy, their lips kept apart more by will than space. Harry when he stole a glance at down at Draco's hands and found them clenched in fists. **Amazing** thought Harry, **This is more easy than I ever expected.** And he promptly turned around to face his cauldron, leaving Draco standing to stare at his back, his gray eyes intense, his breathing escalated, his face flushed and his nails leaving crescents in the flesh of his palms. Every so often, during the course of the lesson, Harry would lean in to speak to Ron, or put his hand casually on his friend's shoulder, catching Draco's narrowed glares and sour scowls at them out of the corner of his eye. **He has no right.** thought Harry fiercely. **If thinks he has some sort of claim on me, why doesn't he do something about it?** and he left Potions without a backward glance at the seething Malfoy, an arm around each of his friends, a knowing smile on his face his next move firmly in entrenched in his mind. The stage was set for supper. . . . . |