"And who might you be?" Narcissa Malfoy asked politely, holding out a glass of cider to her new guest. Percy was feeling a bit uncomfortable- not that he would ever say that to the Malfoys. He was vastly underdressed compared to the Malfoys and their other guests, who Percy knew were all dark families.

The Malfoy tent was elegant, but too bawdy for Percy's tastes. The color skeme was nice; soft gold, cremé, and white. But there were too many ridiculously expensive things like vases inlaid with emeralds and white gold, and paintings with pure gold frames that were dotted with diamonds, that showed that the Malfoys wanted to present their wealth to everybody.

"I'm Perseus Olympas, Mrs. Malfoy," Percy said, holding out his hand in the diplomatic sign.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Olympas," Narcissa replied, placing her hand in Percy's.

"Likewise."

Percy put a chaste kiss on the back of her hand before pulling away.

"If you don't mind me asking, which line are you descended from?" Narcissa asked, a mischievous glint in her grey eyes.

"Poseidon's line, Mrs. Malfoy," Percy replied a bit slowly, wondering why Narcissa looked so nefarious at the moment.

"As I thought. My husband has just been so obsessed with your line-"

"Draco, why don't you introduce Mr. Olympas to our other guests?" Lucius interrupted, his cheeks red as he narrowed his eyes at his wife. Narcissa giggled and waved goodbye to her son and Percy, leading her husband over to another guest.

"You'll pay for that later," Lucius mumbled to his wife, pinching her butt. Narcissa squealed, jumping a bit, letting out a laugh that resembled ringing bells.

"We'll see, dear husband, just who will be paying."

Draco let out a small, soft chuckle as he watched his parents walk away, bickering lowly.

Percy saw how relaxed Draco was, how open his expression was contrary to when he was in the top box. There, he held the façade of a cocky, confident boy with a holier-than-thou attitude, and Percy could help but admire him more.

He knew how tiring holding a façade was. He did it every time a monster attacked him and his friends. He pretended to be a laid-back, confident guy that had no worries about the outcome of battle. That very façade was what made the people around him calm, more confident in their abilities. That very façade was what made a lot of people and monsters underestimate him.

On the inside, Percy would think up of at least 100 ways things could go wrong, who could get hurt, who could die. Percy's mind was always sent on overdrive, his body on autopilot as he fought as many monsters as he could, protecting his friends at all costs. This confident, laid-back façade took will-power to unhold, to keep it running for so long. It slowly ate away at him, breaking him down bit by bit until he couldn't tell whether he was acting in his façade or not.

Acting as someone else turned you into someone else. Thankfully, Draco hasn't gotten to that point, but Percy was mere feet away from it. He would soon realize that being sent to the Wizarding World was the only way for him to find himself again.

What Percy also noticed was the way that Draco's own façade would flicker when he glanced at Harry Potter, who was always talking and laughing at his friends.

Harry Potter had done something to hurt Draco, badly, and Percy wanted to know what it was. What had made Draco hurt enough for him to put up the façade of a cold, sneering, pompous boy- a typical villain in Harry Potter's little world.

As if sensing his thoughts, Draco looked at Percy with eyes the color of moonshine, dissecting, curious to figure out the enigma of Perseus Olympas.

"Just say it."

"What?" Percy asked, startled.

"I know you want to ask me something. It's written all over your face; just spit it out."

Draco didn't mean for his reply to sound so dry and condensending. He degraded himself for potentially scaring away the only block that looked at him the way Percy did. Admiring, glazed over eyes that held no hint of hatred or lust. Lots of people had bones to pick with Draco Malfoy, and many (more often than not) wanted him as their personal fuck-buddy. Of course, Draco knew that Percy was attracted to him, but it wasn't something that could be labeled as lust. It was something more, something personal that made Percy different, that made Draco want Percy more and more every time he caught the gaze of those admiring eyes.

"What did Harry Potter do to you?" Percy asked, his tone inquiring and protective, cocking his head to the side.

Draco stared, wide-eyed and completely flabbergasted. "I beg your pardon?"

"What did Potter do to hurt you?"

Draco stared at Percy, his heart pounding in his chest. The usual questions were:

"Why do you hate poor Harry Potter so much?!"

"Harry Potter does NOT deserve your ridiculing, Malfoy! Why don't you leave him alone?!"

Never has anyone asked about him. Never has anyone asked what Potter did to make Draco hate him so much.

Draco struggled to keep his tears at bay. He didn't know why he was being so emotional.

Percy Olympas has de-armored Draco Malfoy in a matter of minutes, a feat no one else could do. Percy had Draco Malfoy wrapped tightly around his finger with just one sentence, and he didn't even know it.

Seeing the unshed tears in Draco's eyes, Percy's gaze softened and he wrapped the silver boy into a warm hug. Draco leaned his cheek on Percy's shoulder, a blush on his angelic, delicate face. His thoughts all scatter away as Percy ran his hand up and down his spine, the other arm trapping his waist and his hand tapping random patterns on his hip. Draco inhaled Percy's soothing ocean scent, melting into his embrace, feeling secure and treasured.

"What did Potter do to you?" Percy asked again, his tone soft and protective. He laid his chin on top of the blonde's head, waiting for Draco's reply.

Draco dug his face further into the Percy's shoulder, his cheeks burning in remembrance of that day.

Draco had been so excited to meet Harry Potter. He planned to introduce him to all the important politicians, he planned to show him the ropes of pureblood society and court, he thought of all the pranks they could play on his parents- but all those plans were just a fantasy. From the get-go in Madam Malkin's Robe Shop, Harry had been disinterested in him.

Hell, the boy never gave Draco a chance of day!

Draco remembered feeling so disappointed when Potter rejected his friendship. That disappointment quickly turned into anger as he saw the smug smirk on Potter's face.

That rejection of a personal relationship triggered a bitter war between the two boys.

"He rejected my hand of friendship," Draco eventually murmured, his fist clenching the back of Percy's robes to pull him back when Percy started to pull away from the embrace to look at Draco.

Percy let out a chuckle as Draco snuggled further into him, clinging as tightly as he could.

Percy didn't know what Potter's intentions were. Earlier, Potter seemed decent, but he didn't actively talk to the boy. He didn't know if Potter would purposefully hurt Draco in such a drastic way.

To reject a purebloods hand of friendship. . . would be very unwise and severely insulting.

One thing was for sure though.

"If it were me, I would have said yes without hesitation," Percy said lowly to Draco, meaning every word.

Draco stared up at Percy with owl-eyes, speechless.

"Potter was a fool for passing up the best opportunity of a life-time. He doesn't deserve your friendship if he's that foolhardy," Percy whispered, caressing his cheek, his thumb tracing Draco's cheekbone.

Before the two knew it, they were kissing, and neither could remember who closed the distance.

The kiss started out slow, Percy coaxing Draco into the kiss, a gentle hand gripping the blonde's hip.

Draco felt like he was where he was ment to be, his body arching into Percy's like two matching pieces of a puzzle. His hands carded through Percy's wild, raven waves, tugging and pulling, drawing Percy into a deeper kiss.

Across the ball room, Narcissa looked at her son with tears in her eyes. The pure intimacy of the kiss, despite it's slowness, was overwhelming. She felt like she was intruding by looking at them, but she couldn't help it.

The two boys clicked together, much like the same way she and Lucius clicked. They barely met today, and yet, the passion between them was like a blazing inferno. They look like they've known each other for years, but they met mere hours ago. She had never seen her son so comfortable and open to a person he just met, and she was astounded.

Could Perseus Olympas be the one for her little boy?

The two boys separated, leaning their foreheads together, grinning shyly at one another with love-struck eyes.

A tear ran down Narcissa Malfoy's pale cheek. Then, she had to remind herself: her little boy wasn't so little anymore.