Harry hears Malfoy's name before he sees him. It's a small mummer at first-- whispers and rumors that trickle throughout the student body. But as the day continues, the breaths of gossip grow and expand and the waves crash down with overwhelming force each time a new piece of information is leaked.

What Harry finds most interesting is that everyone seems to be pointedly ignoring telling him what's happening -- it is the saying "You'll know when you see him," over and over again, a broken record. There is a following he cannot shake, as everyone seems overeager to see his reaction. Excitement makes some of them physically quiver, but Harry only notes this with dulled amusement.

He is anxious, the possibilities of what is occurring seemingly endless and his brain unable to picture the most likely. This anxiety does not fade when he sees Malfoy for the first time that day (if anything, it rises; an iridescent shimmer of breath-taking and stomach curling spasm).

Malfoy saunters into lunch, chest puffed out with all the pride in the world, seemingly unaware of the snickers and whispers of his classmates, their words an ocean and him the parted sea. There is a plastic bag, filled with things Harry cannot see (does he even WANT to? he wonders) and his eyes drops to Malfoy's chest (a regular ritual for him; Malfoy is quite fit and denying himself pretty sights seems cruel). His jaw fights to meet the floor and Harry's breath catches in the back of his throat.

Yes, Harry decides, this is what everyone has been talking about. This button on a pureblood's shirt, implying something that no pureblood ever would. On a Malfoy, nonetheless.

Potter's Cute.

Harry can feel his face flush, almost against his will, and he cannot deny the swelling feelings of both confusion and pleasure that roll over him. The rumors, the gossiping teens with nothing else to do, are louder now, and no one seems to have a problem with letting both him and Malfoy in on them now.

Malfoy's gay; Malfoy likes Potter; he's been wearing it all day.

Harry can see, even though Malfoy is sat at the Slytherin table (miles away; worlds away), that Malfoy can hear them, too. His face is flooded with shock and he all but tears the button off his robes. The word soon comes back to him of Malfoy's excuses; It must've been cursed, he swears it said the opposite when he made it, he's not gay, he doesn't like Harry Potter.

Though the excuses are rampant, to Harry (and most everyone in the great hall) they sound just that; excuses.

Harry, who is not a fan of the combo of the Malfoy-crush-situation attention and the tournament attention, plans to avoiding speaking of the situation, of talking to Malfoy entirely. Plus, he kinda feels bad; he knows bullying can get overwhelming at this school, and he is not interested in unintentionally adding to it.

Of course, he is fighting to bury a part of himself as well. There is hope, blossoming and blooming in his chest, and it is all-consuming. He does not take the time to acknowledge the small crush that has been sitting in his heart since Merlin knows when. There is an internal battle here and Harry is not eager to feed the flame.

(Malfoy is witty— but he's a git

Malfoy is attractive— but he's arrogant.

Malfoy is skillful— but he's prejudice.)

To successfully ignore this back and forth of his ever-fighting brain, he will need to successfully ignore Malfoy. But it proves more difficult than expected and Harry finds himself cursing Fate (who has never liked him, the little bitch) as he is partnered with Draco Malfoy for a potion's assignment.

He takes his seat beside the blonde and sighs internally. This, he thinks with heavy sarcasm, is opted to go well.

¶∆¶

Ginny doesn't talk about it much (or ever) but sometimes she hears things. Just a small whisper of a person in her mind that no one else can hear. It's not just a voice, though, she knows. It's a person -- or what remains.

Sometimes, the voice (she knows his name, for how could she ever forget? But she does not like to use it) is silent; letting Ginny go throughout her days with an easy clarity about them. She likes those days, but she likes when he talks to her, too.

On days when she carries out revenge, such as the incident with young Malfoy, the voice is raging. It is a loud yelling; a praising so insistent and consuming that it is impossible to ignore.

It appeared toward the end of her first year, and she knows exactly why. He's dangerous, this voice is, and it's so obvious that Ginny knows this with complete certainty. But the voice is also helpful, and Ginny finds herself not wanting it to go.

That is why, she guesses, that she has kept it a secret for oh-so-long.

Ginny is also more powerful with him helping, though she knows it's not her power at all, but his. He's extraordinarily charismatic, but Ginny does not allow herself to fall victim to his charms. (She knows all too well how that ends.)

She, she argues, is in control this time. He cannot physically do anything to her, not like last time, and that is why she does not tell a mind healer or the Headmaster in a (likely futile) attempt to rid herself of him.

She is content with the voice, the person, the presence, the Other Magic in the back of her head.

Ginny is walking through the hallways to supper when the rumors wave hits her, the word of her backfired revenge giving her knees a shakiness they did not have before, and she walks away quickly so she does not physically collapse in front of people as failure threatens to sweep her off her feet. She slips into an empty classroom, tears of frustration flooding her features as soon as she does.

It is then when the voice of her head, that had been oddly quiet since the break into the Slytherin dorms, spoke up.