Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. I do not own Harry Potter. I just use the characters for entertainment. (A/N): This is my first fanfic ever, so no rude critizism, please. This is also boy-on-boy action. Not your cup of tea? Then go get coffee.
Notes in Class
"Potter," Draco spat.
"Malfoy," Harry replied.
"What do you want, ferret?" Ron growled.
"I don't want anything, weasel. I was on my way to Potions when I had the unfortunate luck to run into the The Golden Trio, and be disgraced with their presence." Ron glared at the white-blonde. He grabbed Harry and Hermione and dragged them to the Potions classroom, muttering something about "arrogant snakes."
Blaise knew about Dray's crush on Golden Boy. I mean, who could blame him? Blaise thought, He's sexy, nice, funny, caring, and the PERFECT guy to fall in love with. But Draco seems to be an unemotional Malfoy that's always hidden behind his mask. Draco and Blaise arrived at the Potions classroom five minutes early. Blaise thought that now was the best time to talk to Draco; when the classroom was almost empty.
"Dray, why don't you tell him?" Blaise asked. Draco looked at him incredulously.
"Are you kidding? He'll hex me within an inch of my life, Blaise! That's a ridiculous suggestion that I will kindly pretend I didn't hear." Blaise rolled his eyes.
"Granger has her suspicions. She thinks that you two have UST."
"Excuse me?" Blaise sighed impatiently.
"Unresolved Sexual Tension." Blaise sounded like he was talking to a three-year-old. Draco stuttered uncharacteristically.
"No! Potter and I are enemies and I feel no such attraction to the Gryffindork. How could she be so dense to even suggest the Scar head and I have any feeling toward each other except hate?"
"There's a thin line between love and hate, Dray. And you think you hate him, when, in reality, you feel a strong feeling toward Harry, but you forced yourself to believe it was hate. You two don't hate one another; you just think you do. It all started when he refused to be your friend, and you insulted his best friend. Draco, you like him, and he obviously likes you back. So why don't you date?"
"Oh yes, Blaise. Because that's going to be easy.
'Hey, Potter, listen, I dream about you every night because I'm totally in love with you and every time I get near you, my heart skips a beat, and I feel like I'm on a cloud. I feel so high up that even gravity can't begin to pull me back down. I get up so high that nobody can save me.
I love everything about you; your messy hair, your gorgeous body, and your intense eyes that I'd love to stare into every second of the day. When I'm with you I can't breath and I get high off of your cologne. Butterflies form anytime I'm around you, and I can't get rid of them. Anytime you're not near me, my heart aches, and I feel alone; I can't get rid of the sense of loneliness. Just thought you may want to know, even though you're as straight as a ruler, and I'm as straight as a bent pole. Have a nice day, love of my life.' Yeah, that'll be fun trying to bring up subtly." Draco replied sadly. Blaise patted Draco's shoulder comfortingly.
"It's okay, Draco. I heard that he wasn't straight." Draco's hopes went up considerably.
"Really?" he asked. Blaise nodded. The Golden Trio walked into Potions, and sat down. Harry made sure no one was looking, and threw a parchment airplane at the side of Draco's head. Draco jumped up a little, and turned his head sideways to glare at the offending object that hit his head. He picked it up, and looked at it.
Just wanted to say hi.
Draco looked at the messily scribbled note, and then looked at Harry, who was talking with Hermione. He rolled his eyes, and wrote a note on another piece of parchment. When he was done, he threw it at Potter's head. Blaise saw and got that look in his eye that said, 'Aw, that's adorable. They're passing notes.' Harry muttered a small 'ow' and read the note.
Just wanted to tell you to get a life.
Harry quickly scribbled a note back and used his want to guide it to Draco. Draco picked it up.
I thought we were friends. There's no need to make fun of me.
First of all, don't call me Draco. Second, you have been extremely misled if you got the idea we were friends. We are NOT friends. And third, do not ever sign a note with 'love' unless you're gay.
I like calling you Draco, but if you insist, I'll stop. And I wasn't misled; you know you want to be my friend.
Anyway, who told you I was straight?
Draco's eyes widened when he read the note.
Kindly stop calling me Draco, Dray, Drake, Drakeykins, Dracopoo, or any other nickname you can come up with with what little brain you have.
And I automatically assumed that you were straight, what with the Weaslette hanging all over you like you were to die tomorrow.
Why can't we be on a first name basis? Potter and Malfoy aren't fun to say all the time.
EW! Ginny? Me? Me and Ginny? Ginny and me? Mate, that's nasty. It makes me want to throw up every time she clings to me. Trust me, Ron's my best mate, and I love him like a brother, but I'm kind of mad at him for trying to hook Ginny and me up. She sleeps around with a ton of guys. But I really don't see how she got the idea we're dating.
Draco's eyes widened a little bit more. 'Could Harry actually be gay?' He thought. 'That would increase my chances of dating him.'
Are you gay, then?
You called me Harry! And who wants to know? Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. You'll never know until I tell you.
Draco frowned and scrawled a quick note back.
Yes, I called you Harry. I'm a young man and I CAN be nice every once in a while. But I would like to know if you are gay, bi, or straight because I have a friend who might be interested. So why don't you go ahead and tell me?
Well since you seem SO interested for your FRIEND, then I will tell you that I am indeed gay. As gay as they get. Girls do absolutely nothing for me. Don't tell anyone though, because the only people who know are you, Hermione, Remus, and Sirius. I'm not quite ready to come out yet.
Draco froze in his seat. Could this be true? Golden Boy- gay? It was unbelievable. Draco sent a piece of parchment back to Harry.
I won't tell anyone. No one would believe me anyway. What with the Weaslette hanging all over you.
Draco saw Harry read the note. Harry smiled. Just then, Snape came into the room, cloak billowing behind him in an intimidating fashion. He got up to the board, and turned sharply on his heel. He smirked at the class. He flicked his wand, and the ingredients for that lesson appeared.
"Today, you will be making a love potion." Groans could be heard all over the classroom. "Quiet!" Snape demanded. He started to give partners out.
"Granger, Parkinson. Longbottom, Weasley. Potter, Malfoy. Crabbe, Goyle…." and so on. Harry moved his items over to Draco's table, and they started on the potion. Draco added the two fairy wings, and stirred twice counterclockwise. All around the two, other students could be heard talking about who would win the quidditch match, the weather, etc. But at Harry and Draco's table, there was absolute silence. Harry chopped the ginger, while Draco added the toad eyes. Everything was going fine until Harry did something wrong. The potion started to boil, and turned blue. Draco stepped back, and so did Harry.
"Potter!" Draco yelled.
"What?" Harry asked.
"What did you do?"
"I did what the book told me to! I stirred it six times counterclockwise!" Harry answered.
"You stupid git! The book said to stir five times clockwise!" Harry's eyes widened as he realized what he did. The potion blew up, and landed on Harry. Draco managed to get out unharmed. Snape rushed over, and told Draco to take Harry to the Hospital Wing immediately. So Draco put one of Harry's arms around his shoulders, and he put one arm around Harry's waist. Draco hurried to get to the Hospital Wing. After adjusting Harry quite a few times, he eventually reached the Hospital Wing. He laid Harry down on one of the beds, and called for Madame Pomfrey. She ran out, did a few spells, and told Draco she didn't know what was wrong with him at the moment. After she left, Harry turned his head, and whispered,
"Malfoy, I have a confession to make. I don't hate you. In fact, I..."