Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5225258.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Draco_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Drama_&_Romance
  Collections:
      Ink_Stained_Fingers
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-11-16 Chapters: 31/31 Words: 53625
****** Coveting Thy Enemy ******
by Elani Chaice [archived by ISF_Archivist]
***** Chapter 1 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                         ***** Coveting Thy Enemy *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Prologue: Coming of Age
  "You will do as I say boy, or I'll make you wish you were dead!" screamed
  Lucius Malfoy. His face had a look of fury in it that Draco had grown
  accustomed to. He knew he would not protest. If he protested or became
  insolent, his father would hurt him worse, so he meekly assented with a
  lowered gaze and a nod.
  "Yes sir," he said, trying to sound as meek as possible. Lucius let go of
  Draco's cloak now, suddenly realizing he had his son raised, dangling in the
  air. Draco fell to the floor with the grace that only a Malfoy could possess.
  Still furious, Lucius kicked Draco in the stomach as hard as he could. Draco
  did not scream, did not say a word, he only doubled up, almost into himself,
  into a fetal position. This was a well-practiced maneuver since he knew
  further kicks were coming next.
  Never, he thought. Never will I become my father. I don't care if he kills
  me, I will not get the black mark. He thought all of this in the mere seconds
  before he blacked out from the pain.
  It was August fifth, Draco's birthday. He was seventeen years old.
  "Ah, so the boy refuses my birthday gift, eh?" the head of Voldemort said.
  Lucius was now sitting in his study, drinking heavily. He gazed at the fiery
  image of Voldemort and nodded just as meekly as his son did earlier.
  He had thought he raised his son right all of these years. He had promised
  him to The Dark Lord the day he was born. On Draco's seventeenth birthday, he
  would be Voldemort's, to do with what he pleased. Why then did it seem that
  The Dark Lord was not surprised? "My Lord, I did what I could. I raised him
  with the knowledge and respect that was expected of him. I fed him hatred of
  Muggles and Harry Potter with every meal. I don't know why he has had a
  change of heart all of a sudden."
  "He is a boy Lucius, he doesn't know what's good for him. He will understand
  in time that it is best to be on the winning side," Voldemort said with
  absolute confidence.
  "So, what do I do? Let him return to Hogwart's and hope that he decides
  there? Why can't we just force the dark mark upon him?" Lucius asked.
  Voldemort contemplated this idea and then spoke. "No, no, if we force the
  dark mark upon him and he decides the path of the light, then we have a spy
  in our midst. The only thing we can do, you can do, Lucius is to make him see
  he has more to gain by becoming a Death Eater than by choosing those that
 oppose me."
  "What do you mean?"
  "I mean, we find out what means the most to him, what he cherishes, covets
  above all else, then we simply take it away, destroy it."
  "Wouldn't that make him vengeful?"
  "Perhaps at first, but if he loses that which he loves, he will soon realize
  that the power I can give him will be a more than adequate substitute. After
  all, he is a Malfoy."
  Lucius jumped up from where he was sitting and bowed before the fireplace in
  reverence. "As always, My Lord, you prove to be astonishing. But, how do we
  find what he cherishes most when he is away at Hogwart's?
  "Easy, my faithful and loyal servant. I have spies there, people he trusts
  that will be more than happy to tell me anything."
  Harry Potter awoke that morning happier than he had been in a while? He
  questioned this mood with a sleep-addled brain until he realized he would be
  leaving for Hogwart's that day. I'm leaving, he thought. No more Aunt
  Petunia! No more Uncle Vernon! And, especially, No more Dudley-do-no-wrong!
  With an ecstatic jump out of bed, he left the room and took a hurried shower.
  Returning in only a towel draped around his waste, he looked at himself in
  the mirror. Flipping up his wavy, unruly, ebony hair, he peered at the scar
  on his forehead. It hadn't throbbed in over a year. Did that mean that
  Voldemort had given up? He highly doubted that. Hermione, one of his two best
  friends, believed that Voldemort had been unusually quiet the last two years
  because he was busy gathering forces. He hoped she was wrong, but then again,
  when was Hermione ever wrong?
  He sighed at this thought and picked up his glasses from the night table.
  Returning to the mirror, he gazed at himself again in the mirror. He had
  grown a lot in the last couple of years. He now stood a little over six-feet
  tall. His hair, still as unruly and unkempt as usual now seemed an asset
  rather than a liability. It made his look rakish if anything. His eyes,
  barely hidden by his glasses, shone emerald green. His face now had the
  chiseled look of a man, rather than the innocent boy who had once entered
  Hogwart's all those years ago. His frame, still somewhat on the thin side,
  was now well muscled and defined. He attributed this to the endless hours of
  Quidditch practices Ron, his best friend and Quidditch captain, had put him
  through. Or else, it could be from the heavy yard work his Uncle Vernon had
  forced him to do over that summer. Whatever the reason, for the first time in
  his life Harry felt pleased by his appearance because standing before him was
  a man.
  =============================================================================
                           Link_to_Following_Chapters
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Chapter 2 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 1 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 1: Awakenings
  The train was noisy. That's all Harry could think when he embarked the
  Hogwart's Express. It would seem that the new first year class was larger
  than ever. Children were talking animatedly, scarfing down sweets. Children.
  Harry could remember when he was such a child on the first ride to Hogwart's
  School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Everything was new, everything was
  astonishing, everything was . . . well, magical.
  Walking down the aisle way, Harry was not surprised when the noisy atmosphere
  of the express hushed dramatically. Fingers were pointed, voices once at an
  ear deafening pitch changed to whispers, and the whispers all mentioned his
  name. He was Harry Potter. Yes, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. He smiled
  amicably at every first year he passed until he reached the next to the last
  compartment. Before opening the compartment curtain, he knew right away that
  Ron and Hermione were in there.
  "Ron, stop that. Harry will be here any minute," Hermione said rather
  breathlessly.
  "Mmmmph `at's at?" Ron asked.
  "Harry mustn't know."
  "Know what?" Harry asked as he pulled the curtain aside and slipped into the
  opposite seat. He cast a bemused glance at Hermione, who was straightening
  her robes and getting redder by the minute. Ron wore a glazed expression that
  was as transparent as glass.
  "N-Nothing Harry," Hermione said, elbowing Ron.
  "Uh - yeah," Ron said, blinking away the deer-caught-in-headlights look.
  "Really, because it seems to me I heard the distinct sounds of snogging going
  on this compartment," Harry said, eyeing his two best friends in turn.
  "Harry... We're sorry for not telling you. We didn't want you to feel left
  out," answered Hermione.
  "Aw, Herm, this has been forthcoming for ages. I'm happy for you two, I
  really am, but how long has this been a secret?" Harry asked.
  Ron eyed his best friend, possibly looking for hurt in Harry's eyes. Seeing
  none there, he replied, "It hasn't been a secret for long, Harry, really.
  Hermione and I kind of told each other how we felt by owl all summer. This is
  really the first time we've seen each other since last school year."
  "Speaking of romance," Hermione said, tactfully deflecting the heat from her
  and Ron, "how is Cho?" Cho Chang, the former seeker for the Ravenclaw House
  Quidditch team, had been Harry's girlfriend during his sixth year at
  Hogwart's. She had surprised him last year by asking him on a date to the
  first Hogsmeade weekend of the school year. He had accepted mostly out of
  gratitude since he had strongly believed she blamed him for her ex-
  boyfriend's death. Obviously she didn't. Being ahead of Harry a year, she
  would no longer be at Hogwart's.
  "Fine. She's working her arse off at practice." Cho had been accepted as a
  Seeker for a minor Quidditch team. She had been away in training throughout
  the entire summer. "We've been doing pretty much the same as you and Ron,
  communicating by owl," Harry said.
  "Ooh," breathed Hermione. "How romantic, a long-distance romance, just like
  the Brownings. `How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. . `"
  Harry frowned. If Hermione knew the true meaning behind he and Cho's
  relationship, she certainly wouldn't be spouting off Sonnets from the
  Portuguese.
  "Oh yes Harry, please tell us all about your little Ravenclaw fling. Tell me,
  does she take it up the rear?" a silver-haired Slytherin who had just poked
  his head through the curtain asked.
  Harry looked up to see none other than Draco Malfoy, his archrival. Malfoy
 stared down Harry's glower and continued as if his conversation was welcome.
  "Tell us all the lurid details, Potter."
  "Sod off, Malfoy," said Harry, trying his hardest not to wipe the smirk off
  Malfoy's face with his fist.
  "Aw, what's the matter? Ickle Harry doesn't want to admit he's still a
  virgin?" taunted the Slytherin. In less than nine tenths of a second, three
  wands were pointed at Malfoy, three hexes were muttered, and Malfoy dropped
  to the floor in an undignified heap.
  "What hex did you two use?" asked Harry of his friends.
  "Petrificus," they replied in synchronization.
  "Yea, me too." Malfoy probably wouldn't be awake for the rest of the trip to
  Hogwart's. The three leaned back into their seats and laughed as they hadn't
  laughed in the three months they were apart. It would seem that the final
  year wouldn't be much different than the last six. This made Harry
  ecstatically happy.
  Once the sorting ceremony was over, the Gryffindors fell to the feast as if
  they hadn't eaten in years. Harry had stuffed himself fatter than a
  thanksgiving turkey and was now leaning back on the bench completely
  satiated. It would seem that a great majority of the first years were sorted
  into Gryffindor, much to the members' delight. The only one that seemed upset
  about this was Hermione. She was awarded the prestige of Head Girl that year,
  and she didn't seem happy about having to keep the large, rowdy bunch of
  members of her own house in line - Not to mention the other three houses.
  Harry was proud of Hermione when she had owled him about her Head Girl
  status. He was proud yes, but not surprised. It seemed that the path to
  Prefect and ultimately Head Girl was a straight one from first year. Harry
  himself had turned down the Prefect badge his fifth year, so he was out of
  the running for Head Boy. He could never see himself as Prefect since he had
  happened to break about every rule of Hogwart's, so when he received the
  letter offering him the position, he had humbly reclined.
  Unfortunately, Hermione had also felt the need to include in her letter who
  had received the honor of Head Boy: None other than Draco Malfoy. This had
  come as a shock. He always knew Malfoy was bright, but he didn't think he was
  bright enough to receive that honor. He glanced over at Malfoy at this moment
  and narrowed his eyes. This was really the first time he had a chance to
  appraise Malfoy this year since he had only seen his head on the express.
  Harry was shocked to see how much Malfoy had grown. He had always been quite
  a bit smaller than the other boys in his year, but it seemed that the summer
  had awarded Malfoy with a growth spurt. From a seated position, Malfoy seemed
  to be close to the same height as his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. But, where
  were dumb and dumber? It would seem that Malfoy and his brutes had had some
  sort of falling out because they were seated at the opposite end of the
  Slytherin table. In fact, had Malfoy had a falling out with his entire house?
  If the table had been a seesaw, Malfoy would have been catapulted across the
  room. In fact, the only one seated anywhere near him was Pansy Parkinson, the
  Slytherin house gossip, and she seemed to be at pains to ignore him.
  Just then, Malfoy looked up and met Harry's confused gaze. Not a flicker of
  emotion registered on his face, not even a sneer. Despite the lack of
  character on Malfoy's visage at the moment, Harry was surprised to see how
  mature he had become in the last three months. Malfoy's once boyish, rounded
  face was much thinner and his eyes seemed to have changed from a steel-gray
  to a shade not unlike the sea in the midst of a storm. Malfoy had become
  quite a handsome man. At this realization, Harry's dinner did a nauseating
  flip-flop in his stomach. What am I thinking? Malfoy is a git and a ponce. I
  also hate every fiber of his being. What am I doing thinking of how
  attractive he is? Contorting his face in his most evil stare, Harry glared
  daggers at Malfoy. Malfoy responded with one of his most unbecoming smirks,
  and Harry's stomach stopped somersaulting. That's better, thought Harry. That
  is as it should be.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 2 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 2 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 2: Secrets
  Harry was thankful when the welcoming feast in the Great Hall ended. He
  shadowed Ron and Hermione to the Gryffindor tower. There as usual was the
  portrait hole. "Hello, Gryffindors!" the fat lady said, "Welcome back!
  Password please."
  "Through the Looking Glass," said Hermione, and then she glanced sheepishly
  at Ron and Harry. "Who would have known Professor McGonnaggal was a Lewis
  Carroll fan?"
  The portrait swung out freely, and the trio, followed by the rest of the
  Gryffindors, entered the common room. Hermione and Dean Thomas went about
  giving the first years a tour of their rooms while Ron and Harry entered the
  seventh year dorm.
  "Ah, home at last," said Harry.
  "Blimey, Harry. I don't think I've ever seen you so happy," said Ron, gazing
  at his best friend.
  "Why shouldn't I be happy? I just spent the last summer at the Dursley's, and
  I'm back with my best friends."
  "Well, then," said Ron, pleased at the last part of Harry's brief speech. "I
  was thinking about this year's Quidditch and . . ." but a scratch at the
  window interrupted him. Looking up, Harry saw Cho's owl, Curmudgeon. He let
  the owl in and untied the letter from his leg.
  "Ah, a letter from Cho, right then," said Ron with a knowing look. He then
  turned and walked out to give Harry some privacy with his "love letter".
  Harry smiled as he broke the seal of Cho's letter. He was happy to receive a
  letter so early from Cho. She had really proved to be a loyal friend over the
  past year. Not only that, her letters were always sure to uplift the darkest
  of moods. She was somewhat creative with the written word, and she had even
  admitted to him once that she wouldn't mind becoming a fiction novelist if
  the Quidditch thing fell through. He perused Cho's letter with quite a bit of
  surprise. Cho always managed to tactfully get to the heart of the matter. She
  also always seemed to be able to predict what was on Harry's mind.
  Dear Harry,
                  If my calculations are correct, this letter should get to you
  soon after you arrived at Hogwart's.  I have to say, Harry, I envy you.
  Sometimes I wish I was just starting my seventh year.  But, alas, here I am
  in the "real world," trying my best to prove my skills.  Of course, that
  isn't much different than Hogwart's, is it?
          Please don't mind my subconscious ramblings, Harry.  I'm still just a
  silly girl who feels the need to prove herself at every turn.  Anyway,
  (abruptly changing the subject) I'm glad you liked your birthday present   A
  couple of years ago I would have never thought that I would be buying HARRY
  POTTER a birthday present.  You truly are one of my best friends, Harry, and
  I miss you terribly.  I do planning on returning for the Yule Ball though,
  and I am forcing myself on you as your date.  I dare you to say no!!
          Honestly, the Yule Ball thing is pure selfishness.  I'm sure you've
  noticed my little hints about a certain Mr. Ian Cameron?  He really is a nice
  guy, Harry, but I'm afraid he only thinks of me as some sort of "gal pal".
  You would really like him; he has the waviest chestnut hair and the sexiest
  Scottish accent.  I'm hoping my little unobtrusive hint about being your date
  to the Yule Ball will make him insane with jealousy!
          What about you, Harry?  Any romantic prospects in the air?  I've been
  thinking about romance a lot lately (cough, cough, Ian Cameron).  When I come
  to visit in December, we really must talk about our arrangement.  After all,
  who is really suffering from this faade?  Not me, I made a great friend, but
  you.  Please don't build a wall around yourself, Harry because you may be
  blocking out the greatest experiences of your life.
          Oh listen to me, getting all sappy.  Yes, I'm rambling again.
  Anyway, let's leave this type of discussion for when we have a chance to talk
  face to face.  I wish you the best of luck this year, especially at
  Quidditch!

                                                                          Love
  always,

  Cho

          Yes, Cho always seemed to be able to read his mind, even from
  hundreds of miles away.  He had to admit to himself that Cho was right about
  quite a few things, though.  The only problem was, he wasn't sure if he
  wanted to deal with any of the things Cho had mentioned.  Some things were
  too painful to think about at the moment and, he admitted to himself, too
  scary.
  Harry placed Cho's letter in his trunk and lay upon his back on his bed. He
  could still remember the conversation he had had with Cho after the
  Gryffindor Slytherin match last year. It was the first and last time he had
  ever mentioned his secret to anyone.
  Cho had met him outside the Gryffindor tower that evening. Harry was still
  buzzing from his win. It had been a very gratifying win since the match had
  lasted over three hours. Harry had managed to capture the snitch only by
  pulling the Wronski feat on Malfoy, breaking the House tie. Although he was
  quite exhausted, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep through his mind's
  replay after replay of the match, so when Cho asked him to go for a walk out
  in the garden, he had agreed.
  They were holding hands, seated side by side on one of the benches. Cho, as
  always, took the initiative by running her hand from Harry's forehead,
  through his hair, to the back of his neck. She pulled his lips down to hers
  for several seconds. She was the first to pull away.
  She looked at him, appraising him rather thoughtfully. "Harry, if you don't
  like kissing me, you could tell me, you know."
  "Wha-What?" asked Harry.
  "I'm not stupid you know. I know when someone is just going through the
  motions. You kiss me as if it were a chore, a duty or something."
  "Cho, I . . . well, I don't know what you want me to say," Harry said,
 surprised that she had broached the subject at all. He had tried his best to
  kiss her with the skill of a boyfriend that had been dating her for three
  months. Until now, he had though he had succeeded.
  "Harry, I want you to answer a question for me, and I want you to answer it
  honestly. No matter what you say, I will not think any different of you, and
  I will not tell anyone."
  Harry sighed, he had a feeling he knew what was coming, but he nodded to Cho
  to go ahead and ask.
  "Harry, are you g-homosexual?" asked Cho, seemingly tongue-tied with her own
  question.
  He looked at her then, scanning her eyes for any hidden prejudices. Content
  with what he found there, he answered truthfully, "I think so."
  Cho did not cry. She didn't even register shock. "I thought that might be it.
  I mean, it really explains why kissing you feels all wrong."
  "You felt it, too?"
  "Yes. I don't know why I let our relationship continue all this time. First,
  I guess I saw you as kind of a prize to be won, then as a challenge. I wanted
  to conquer you, make you feel things for me. But, after a while, after we
  became friends, I guess I realized that that was all it would ever be," she
  said.
  "Cho, I'm sorry. Honestly, when we first started dating, I wasn't sure about
  my preferences. I mean, I had kind of a crush on you in fourth year and all.
  I even asked you to the Yule Ball. Somewhere along the line, I realized
  though that what I felt for you was respect and admiration. I'm truly sorry
  for leading you on and all," Harry said. He really was sorry. He had been
  secretly sorry for quite some time.
  "Well then, that's that," said Cho. She got up and brushed her lips against
  his cheek. "So, meet me outside your common room the same time tomorrow?" she
  surprisingly asked him.
  "Erm, sure."
  The next day Cho met Harry in the Great Hall for breakfast. She slid her hand
  into his and gave him a big kiss in front of everyone there. She seemed to
  know that he needed this. That was when their faade began. There were really
  no rules. They never really talked about it after that. In fact, the first
  time there was any mention of their play-acting was when Cho mentioned it in
  the letter he had just received. She had been a good friend to him over the
  past year. A great friend, actually. But, now it would seem she was ready to
  finish their game and get on with her life. Harry knew he couldn't blame her.
  She had afforded him quite a bit of time to sort out his feeling and to put
  things into perspective. He still wasn't ready to tell anyone of his
  preferences, but at least he knew for sure what his preferences were.
  Draco Malfoy rolled over yet again in exhaustion. The sheets were twined
  around his waist and legs like a snake from the constant tossing and turning
  he had been doing for the past three hours. He knew it would be difficult in
  the Slytherin house, but he didn't realize it would be this bad. It would
  seem that the children of Death Eaters had heard of his refusal of the Dark
  Mark. That didn't surprise him. He knew he would have to deal with them.
  He didn't realize though that all of the Slytherin house would treat him like
  a pariah. Obviously, there had been some threats made to anyone who would be
  likely to fraternize with him. Now he was alone. His once princely status as
  head of the Slytherin house was a mere memory. He rolled yet again, kicking
  off the sheets. It wasn't like he ever had real friends, but he did have
  respect. During the past six years, the other Slytherins had made him their
  ruler, and although he knew that none of them really liked him, at least he
  knew he belonged.
  Now, it would seem that the only one who wanted anything to do with him was
  Pansy Parkinson, and he simply could not stand her. Pansy had made it quite
  clear during third year when her teenage hormones kicked in that she was
  going to someday become Mrs. Draco Malfoy. She didn't seem to care that Draco
  found her presence absolutely intolerable. However, even she had seemed a
  little bit cowed at the welcoming feast in the Great Hall. Unfortunately,
  that was probably the only time Draco would have actually welcomed her
  presence.
  Draco sighed heavily. He was actually even missing Crabbe and Goyle's
  company. They had been his brute force for the past six years. He had always
  known that they were assigned to protect him by their parents, his father's
  lackeys. Sure, they were stupid and slovenly, but they had always been there
  for him. Not any longer
  He almost wished he had made a different decision on his first day at
  Hogwart's. He could remember stepping up to the stool to wear the sorting
  hat. He felt very confident when the hat was placed on his head. After all,
  every Malfoy in the long lineage of Malfoys had been a Slytherin. His
  confidence was soon shaken however when the hat starting musing in his head.
  "Hmmm... definitely a Malfoy. I see cunning and great intelligence, and I see
  great ambition. Very Slytherin-like qualities. However, I see a paradox.
  There is also courage here and a great need to prove yourself."
  Oh please, thought Draco, don't pick Gryffindor; my father would be so
  disappointed.
  "All right then, you seem to know what's best." "Slytherin!"
  He had never told anyone, and no one had guessed, because to everyone else,
  his sorting only seemed to take mere seconds.
  Draco remembered the relief he felt when the hat cried that name. He recalled
  how much he admired his father then, had admired him for sixteen years of his
  life. No matter how badly his father had treated him, his respect had always
  remained. There were a lot of secrets Draco had kept through the years, a lot
  of things he had witnessed his father do. He had never questioned them,
  always believing his father was doing the right thing, the admirable thing.
  That was until the Death Eater training had begun in June. He had seen too
  much, felt too much. Still though, he would keep his father's secrets, simply
  because he was used to keeping them. He would also keep them because he
  didn't want to relive anything he had witnessed, even in a simple retelling
  of the story.
  Some time during the night, before sleep finally took him, Draco made a
  resolution. No matter how miserable his life was that year, he would not
  acquiesce to his father's wishes. He would not become a servant of Voldemort,
  even if it killed him. The resolution now formed in his mind, Draco finally
  drifted off into the much-needed oblivion of sleep.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 3 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 3 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 3: Retaliation
  The first week of Harry's seventh year went very much as he had hoped. That
  is, the same as always. Harry never thought he would actually welcome
  routine, but as long as he and his friends didn't seem in any danger, he
  would welcome it with open arms. Unfortunately, his schedule was rather full.
  He had Double Potions again with the Slytherins, which was always right after
  breakfast; Divination, which was a mixed house class, Defense Against the
  Dark Arts, again with the Slytherins, and Care of Magical Creatures,
  Gryffindor/Slytherin yet again! Also that year, a new class was offered.
  Well, "offered" shouldn't be the word of choice; it was mandatory for sixth
  and seventh years. Instead of a Dueling Club, there was a Dueling course. It
  would seem that Dumbledore was getting a little antsy about the lack of
  threats from Voldemort, so he was of course taking precautionary measures.
  The class was a mixed house course that met twice a week after dinner. The
  cooperating professors were Severus Snape, who also taught Potions, and Remus
  Lupin, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
  Harry was surprised and rather happy when he had learned that Lupin had
  returned. Lupin had quit teaching at the end of Harry's fourth year when he
  felt his werewolf status had become quite dangerous. Lupin had been the one
  who taught Harry how to conjure a Patronus to help him combat his greatest
  fear, Dementors. Harry was looking forward to learning more from the quiet,
  but formidable man, but as of yet he and Snape had only been giving them foot
  after foot of notes on the Unforgivable Curses.
  That Friday, Harry and Ron met the rest of their team on the Quidditch pitch.
  It was to be the first Quidditch practice of the year, and they were both
  looking forward to it. Ron had been bending the ear of every member until
  they just about voted him out as captain. He seemed to have an obsession this
  year about pounding the Slytherin team into the ground. Harry was glad when
  Ron had taken the captain position. Ron knew everything there was to know
  about Quidditch, and he was much better about organizing skills and tactics
  than Harry had ever been.
  "Alright," Ron said when the team had assembled, "Ten laps around the
  Quidditch pitch, and then we need to discuss the game plan for the Hufflepuff
  match next month." A simultaneous groan was heard from the group. Ron was
  going to be a slave driver this year.
  The team had just finished their first lap to the scathing criticism of Ron
  when the Slytherin team appeared, led by none other than the biggest son-of-
  a-bitch known to wizarding kind, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy appraised the
  Gryffindor team with a crooked smirk. "Oh look mates, the little Gryffindor
  team is having a practice today. Doing laps Weasely? Don't you know this is a
  contact sport?"
  "Bugger off, Malfoy," Ron said, the hatred he felt for the Slytherin captain
  made vividly aware when every muscle in his body seemed rigidly clenched.
  "It's a little early in the season to start spying on other teams."
  Malfoy took Ron's statement with cool nonchalance. "Really, Weasely, I was
  just wondering why you had your girls out here practicing when the Slytherins
  have had the pitch reserved since the beginning of the week." A daring glare
  was seen in Malfoy's eyes when he said this.
  "You're full of it, Malfoy. I've had the pitch reserved all week. If you
  erased my reservation off the schedule again, I'll kill you," Ron said. What
  little composure he had was slipping.
  Harry felt the need to calm Ron down. There was nothing deadlier than an
  irate Weasely! "Ron, just let them have the pitch. Gods know, they definitely
  need the practice."
  "Sod off, Potter. If Weasel wants to fight about it, I'd be more than happy
  to," said Malfoy. Obviously he was itching for a fight. After all, it had
  been a relatively calm week. Not only that, Harry suspected Malfoy was about
  fed up with his house's behavior toward him and wanted to take it out on
  someone.
  "Forget it, " Ron said. He knew Malfoy wasn't worth the time and effort it
  would take to pulverize him.
  "Forget what, Weasely? Forget that you're a complete moron, or that you're
  sister can do amazing things with her tongue?"
  That was the last straw. It was one thing insulting Ron, but it was another
  to insult his sister. Ron growled deep in his throat and lunged at Malfoy,
  knocking him to the ground. All the rest of the boys could do was watch since
  it seemed to be a very fair match. Ron and Malfoy took turns vying for the
  top position as they wrestled on the ground.
  "Take that, Malfoy," yelled Ron as his fist contacted with Malfoy's stomach.
  Malfoy rolled on top of Ron, grabbed him by the hair and started beating his
  head against the ground. Harry made a move to pull Malfoy off Ron, but just
  then Ron rolled to the top position.
  "You're a fucking bastard, Malfoy!" He then proceeded to rain blows on
  Malfoy's upper body. But, Malfoy would have none of this. In a tenth of a
 second, his fist arced and contacted with Ron's nose. There was a sickening
  crunch and then Ron's blood was everywhere.
  Ron staggered to his feet, holding his hand over his nose, which was now
  gushing blood like a faucet. "Bloody hell, Malfoy. You broke my nose!" he
  shouted.
  An overwhelming surge of anger rocked Harry's body. He shook himself from the
  astonishment of his best friend's predicament and rushed Malfoy who was now
  standing. He grabbed Malfoy by the collar and was just about to break his
  nose when he heard a loud female voice.
  "STUPEFY!"
  Harry and Malfoy found themselves trudging the unending steps of the tower.
  Every step seemed to be echoing their doom. Ron had been taken to the
  hospital wing by his teammates, leaving Harry alone to face Professor
  Dumbledore and McGonnaggal. Apparently, McGonnaggal had broken up the fight
  between he and Malfoy before it started with two well-placed "Stupefy" hexes.
  He, Malfoy, and McGonnaggal stopped at the top of the stairs for McGonnaggal
  to give the password, "Giant Jumping Jellies". Dumbledore's password was
  always some type of sweet, be it Muggle or Wizard. They stepped into the
  office with their heads down, suddenly fascinated by their shoelaces.
  "Ah, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy. I had a feeling I would see the two of you
  sooner or later," said Dumbledore. He had a disappointed frown on his face
  that still did little to suppress the twinkle that was always in his eyes.
  "What did they do this time, Minerva?' he asked Professor McGonnaggal, who
  was helping herself to some tea from the shiny tea tray that was always in
  his office.
  "They were fighting on the pitch, Albus. First, Draco and Ron, who I sent to
  the hospital wing, then Draco and Harry."
  "I see," said Dumbledore. "Minerva, you can go back to preparing next week's
  lessons. I'll see that the three are punished adequately." He waved his hand
  to the door, and Professor McGonnaggal left, taking her teacup with her.
  Dumbledore waved his hand again, gesturing toward two of the chairs opposite
  his desk. The boys sat down, still with their eyes to the floor. "So, who
  instigated this little skirmish?" he asked.
  Harry spoke up. "Malfoy did, sir, he said some rotten things about Ron's
  sister." He glared at Malfoy, daring him to lie.
  The other boy said nothing. Dumbledore took this as acquiesce to guilt. "So,
  Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure your house will be quite proud that you managed to
  injure a Gryffindor." Dumbledore had a way of cutting to the truth that was
  both shocking and frightening.
  Draco's eyes finally lit on the Headmaster, registering shock. "I wasn't
  trying to impress my teammates, sir, honestly," his voice said, with very
  little honesty in it.
  Dumbledore decided to ignore Draco's lie. "You seem to be rather at odds with
  your house lately, Mr. Malfoy. Does this have anything to do with your
  refusal of the Dark Mark?"
  Harry gasped quite audibly. Malfoy had refused the Dark Mark! He shook his
  head in confusion. Malfoy seemed to be the most likely person in the school
  to wear the mark proudly.
  Dumbledore had managed to shock Draco yet again. Draco's jaw was moving up
  and down, making him look like a fish trying to breathe without water. "How
  did you know that?" he managed to stammer.
  Dumbledore looked rather pleased and leaned back in his chair. "I have my
  ways, Mr. Malfoy. I was quite proud when I heard the news. But, be that as it
  may, I am still very disappointed in your behavior today. Yours too, Harry,"
  he said, his eyes slicing to Harry. "So, I'm going to take three hundred
  points from Slytherin, since you instigated the fight, Mr. Malfoy, and two
  hundred from Gryffindor. One hundred points as a result of your actions, Mr.
  Potter, and another hundred for Mr. Weasley's."
  Draco seemed the most upset of the two. He had lost three hundred points for
  Slytherin! Harry wondered if Draco was worried about becoming a further
  pariah to the Slytherins.
  "Also, " continued Dumbledore, "You will both be serving a week's detention
  with Mr. Filch. This will start on Monday."
  "A week's detention? Me and Potter? What about Weasely?" asked Draco, his
  voice registering a belief of unfairness.
  "I believe the point reduction and the injury he sustained is punishment
  enough. You will report to Mr. Filch after dinner on Monday. Now, return to
  your houses, both of you." With that final word, he shooed the boys out the
  door.
  When Draco and Harry reached the bottom of the tower, Draco turned to him
  with a flourish of his practice robes. "Thanks a lot, Potter. You just had to
  butt into my fight with Weasel. Now I have to put up with you for a full
  week," he spat. If words were venom, Harry would have been poisoned.
  Harry ignored Malfoy's comment. All he needed was to get into another fight.
  A week of Malfoy's company was more than enough. He shrugged off Malfoy's
  retorts and walked toward the hospital ward. He wanted to see how Ron was
  doing and see if he could get a headache remedy. The idea of spending time
  with Malfoy was making his head throb
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 4 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 4 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 4: Silence
  That weekend was a living hell for Harry. It began Saturday morning at
  breakfast. The Gryffindors could not miss the point posting on the wall. They
  had lost two hundred points, and since they really didn't have two hundred
  points this early in the year, the points posted were in the negative range.
  They knew of course that this had to do with Ron and Harry's fight with
  Malfoy, and the entire house, including Hermione, decided that the two needed
  taught a lesson. They used the old Gryffindor punishment of silence. Even
  Ginny was ignoring them, and Ron had been defending her! It was painful for
  Harry and Ron to be ignored by their mates, but they knew they would
  eventually get over it. It was torture, however, to be on the outs with
  Hermione. Silence was not Hermione's cup of tea.
  "What exactly were you two thinking? Getting into a fight with Malfoy of all
  people? You two have had six years of experience with Malfoy. I thought you
  had learned by now that ignoring him was the best answer!" She was seething.
  She turned to Ron, "And you, you threw the first punch! I can't believe you,
  Ronald Weasely, you're lucky all you received was a broken nose because if I
  had been there . . . I would have done something far worse!"
  "Ah, Herm, I uh . . ." was all Ron could sputter. He looked at her as
  pitifully as he could, which wasn't hard since his nose still hadn't full
  healed and was still a little puffy.
  "Don't you use your pet name with me, Ron, " Hermione spat, "It won't work. I
  think I have to do quite a bit of thinking about why I'm your girlfriend!"
  With that, she stormed out of the Great Hall. She hadn't even touched her
  breakfast.
  "Don't worry, Ron; she'll get over it. She always gets over it when we get in
  trouble," Harry said as soothingly as he could.
  Ron shrugged, "Yea, I know that. It's just I feel really bad. I mean, she is
  Head Girl and all, and our actions reflect really badly on her." With that,
  he placed his chin in his hands and began nervously tracing patterns in his
  oatmeal with his spoon.
  Harry sighed. Too bad the Gryffindors hadn't taken the point reduction as
  well as the Slytherins. He looked over at the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy
  seemed to be back and better than ever with his house. He had lost a whopping
  three hundred points for his house, but they seemed to think the torture
  Harry and Ron were receiving were well worth it. Draco was receiving quite a
  bit of attention from his mates. Blaise Zambini couldn't seem to stop
  slapping him on the back and saying, "Well done, mate!" Crabbe and Goyle were
  back at Draco's side, and Pansy Parkinson was practically sitting on his lap.
  Even though Harry was upset, he couldn't help but to feel a tiny twinge of
  happiness for Malfoy. After all, they had treated him pretty rottenly before.
  Not only that, there was always the Dark Mark thing to reconsider. Harry
  mentally shook himself. I will not feel kindly toward Draco Malfoy. He may
  not be a Death Eater, but he is still a slimy bastard! He then quickly turned
  to Ron and attempted to draw him out of his self-pity.
  Draco couldn't help but to be happy. No, happy wasn't the word, he was
 ecstatic! The last week had been hell for him. He had suffered not only
  silence from his housemates, but plenty of hexes and tricks as well. He
  unconsciously shivered. The paste in his hair gel had been the worst. It had
  taken him four showers and a lot of rough combing to get that mess out.
  He looked over to the Gryffindor table. He knew he should feel pleased about
  Harry and Ron's predicament, but he knew how it felt to be the outsider in
  your house. Weasely seemed to be taking it the worst, especially after the
  deafening chastisement Hermione had given him earlier. Boy when Granger was
  mad, the whole world had to know it!
  He assessed the two Gryffindors, who were busy trying to reassure one
  another. Weasely had grown quite a bit, but only in height. His face still
  had that little boy look that it had had the year before. Harry, however, was
  another story. He had gotten broader and taller. His face had a mark of
  maturity about it now and so did his eyes. His eyes were his most remarkable
  feature. They were the color of brightly polished jade, and they seemed to
  glow as if lit from inside. Even Potter's hair had changed. Sure it was still
  messy, but the messiness added to his attractiveness. Draco slapped himself
  in the forehead with the heel of his hand. What was he doing thinking of
  Potter's attractiveness? Maybe he needed to get laid. Yea, that was it. He
  would have to take Pansy up on her offer after dinner.
  The rest of the weekend went very much the same for Harry. On Monday, Harry
  woke up in a very bad mood. Not only were his housemates still not talking to
  him, but he also had Potions after breakfast. He and Ron tried to drag out
  breakfast as long as they could. They knew there would be hell to pay with
  Professor Snape. Snape of course favored the Slytherins, so he would probably
  find a way to blame him and Ron for the Slytherin reduction of points.
  Harry and Ron slid into their seats just as Professor Snape entered the room.
  Snape scanned the crowd until his eyes lit on them. "Ah, Mr. Potter, Mr.
  Weasely. I must admit I'm surprised to see you two had enough guts to show up
  today." He smirked at them, as if daring them to say a word. They didn't.
  "After the commotion you caused last Friday, I was sure you two would be
  cowering away somewhere with your tails between your legs. It's not everyday
  you manage to lose five hundred points."
  Ron and Harry looked at each other. Yes, Snape did blame them. They refused
  to say a word though. They had learned along time ago that it was better to
  just take Snape's abuse without objection. The Slytherins in the class seemed
  to think Snape's comments were rather funny, however. The room was full of
  their sniggers.
  The only Slytherin not sniggering was Malfoy. Snape had been saying all of
  this with his hand on Malfoy's shoulder. Harry wondered what was up with
  Snape and Malfoy. During the last six years Malfoy had been Snape's pet.
  Malfoy had never missed an opportunity to brownnose his favorite teacher.
  This year, however, Malfoy had been rather quiet in Potions. Although Snape
  had still treated him with the same favoritism as any other year, Harry had
  noticed Malfoy's glares whenever Snape spoke to him. What did Snape do to
  Malfoy? Harry wondered.
  The Potions class went much the same as it always did. The only exception was
  Malfoy's silence and the fact that Snape seemed to verbally abuse Harry and
  Ron more than ever. Upon leaving the class Harry sighed, one obstacle down,
  one more to go. He had detention with Malfoy after dinner.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 5 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 5 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 5: Enlightenment
  The rest of the week didn't go to badly for Harry. His housemates had
  gradually started speaking to him and Ron again; although, Hermione was still
  shunning them both. His detentions with Malfoy wasn't that bad either. They
  had seemed to have a nonverbal agreement to simply ignore each other. Filch
  had had them clean all of the bathrooms in the castle, spit shine all of the
  trophies in the trophy room, and polish all the suits of armor. They were
  still on this last task Friday night. They had worked their way down from the
  top floor of the castle to the dungeon. Unfortunately, there were more suits
  of armor in the dungeon than the rest of the floors combined. Harry had to
  admit to himself that Malfoy wasn't a bad worker. He had assumed wrongly that
  Malfoy was lazy. Well, maybe he was lazy; he may have been working so hard to
  make the night go faster.
  Filch had decided he could trust the two a couple of days earlier, so at this
  time he was busy with a rodent problem in the kitchen storeroom. Harry almost
  wished he were there when Peeves, the castle Poltergeist, decided to make a
  grand entrance. Flying through the narrow passage, he gleefully knocked over
  every suit of armor along the walls. "Ti-ra-ra-BOOM-di-ay," he sang after
  each suit he knocked to the floor. He then swooped out of the passage, his
  cackles echoing behind him.
  "What the hell?" Severus Snape poked his greasy black head out of one of the
  rooms. He must have been sleeping because long strands of oily hair were
  stuck to the sides of his face. He glared at the two boys who were surveying
  the wreckage of Peeves' tornado. "What do you think you two are doing?" his
  voice boomed.
  Harry looked at Draco, expecting him to explain, but Draco's mouth clamped
  shut as if his lips were glued together. "It wasn't us sir, it was Peeves,"
  said Harry. Severus looked at Draco to confirm what Harry had said. Draco
  nodded in agreement, but his eyes were narrowed. Harry knew that look. It was
  the same look Malfoy often gave him. It radiated hate like the sun gave off
  heat.
  "Fine then, I expect the two of you to clean up this mess," Snape said and
  slammed the door.
  "Bloody git," mumbled Malfoy after Snape had left.
  Harry couldn't hold his silence any longer. "What did you say?" he asked the
  silver-haired boy.
  "You heard me, Potter; don't pretend that you didn't."
  "I thought I misinterpreted you though, Malfoy. Since when do you see things
  like that about him?"
  Malfoy laughed then, a hoarse laugh, as if his throat was rusty. "Please,
  Potter, I'm sure you say things much nastier about him to your little
  Gryffindor friends."
  "Well, yea, sure," Harry admitted, "It's just, I'm not his favorite student.
  What did he do to you?"
  "He didn't do anything to me."
  "Then why do you hate him all of a sudden?" Harry asked, the confusion
  written in his eyes.
  Malfoy sighed then. It was a deep sigh as if he were carrying it so long it
  almost suffocated him. "It's not what he did, it's what he is, Christ, I
  really don't have to tell you all this, but you of all people should know.
  He's a Death Eater."
  Harry was astonished that Malfoy was giving him a warning. Obviously he
  didn't know his warning was based on false information. Should he tell him?
  Harry struggled with his subconscious self on this. Finally, he decided that
  if Malfoy had refused the Dark Mark, it wouldn't hurt him to know. Even if he
  was Lucius Malfoy's son. "Malfoy, there's something you ought to know about
  Snape."
  "What could you possibly know that I don't, Potter?" Malfoy asked with his
  famous smirk.
  Harry rolled his eyes and explained, "Snape is not a Death Eater, or rather
 he was, but isn't now."
  This time it was Malfoy's turn to look confused. "What do you mean? How do
  you know?"
  "Listen, Malfoy. Dumbledore explained it all to me a couple of years ago.
  Snape used to be a Death Eater, but something happened that made him change
  his mind. He came to Dumbledore for help, and Dumbledore gave him a teaching
  position. Snape still goes to Death Eater meetings, but he acts as a spy."
  Malfoy's mouth now resembled the Grand Canyon "You're shitting me?"
  "No."
  Malfoy looked guilty now. He spoke again, but it seemed that he was speaking
  to himself. "All this time . . . I thought he was a typical Malfoy. All this
  time, I was wrong."
  "What did you just say?" Harry exclaimed. "Snape is a Malfoy?"
  Draco came out of his musing then and looked at Harry as if he just realized
  he was there. A silent struggle seemed to go on behind his eyes before he
  spoke. "I guess I can tell you. Snape is my uncle."
  Harry's face registered shock. "You're uncle?"
  "Yea, he's my father's brother."
  Now, Harry was confused again. "Yea, but they don't have the same last name,"
  he pointed out.
  Draco looked at him as if he were stupid. He said simply, "Snape is a
  bastard."
  "I know that, but why do they have different names?"
  Draco laughed for the second time that night. "No, he's not a bastard like
  you're a bastard, Potter. He's illegitimate. My grandfather had an affair.
  The result was Severus Snape. Severus was given his mother's last name, since
  my grandfather would never dirty the Malfoy name by leaving his wife."
  "Didn't he dirty it by having an affair in the first place? Obviously it was
  common knowledge since you do know that he's your uncle."
  Draco shook his head in bemusement. "That's not how the Malfoys work. It's
  okay to cheat on your wife, in fact it's expected. It's a different story,
  though, to leave your wife for another woman. Shit, there's probably just as
  many bastards in the Malfoy family as there are legitimates. The bastards are
  accepted as part of the family because they're all purebloods, but they can't
  inherit anything."
  After that admission, Draco left Harry to his thoughts. Their silent bargain
  resumed. Harry couldn't get over the Malfoy way of thinking, however. It was
  no wonder Draco was such a git, since he had been fed some really warped
  family morals all his life. They worked in silence for another couple of
  hours. When they were finished and about to part ways, the silence was
  broken.
  "Thank you," Malfoy said.
  "For what?"
  "For telling me about Snape. Especially since you didn't have to." Malfoy
  didn't wait for Harry's reply. He made a quick pivot turn on his heel and
  walked down the passage to his common room, his robe billowing behind him.
  When Harry entered his own common room, he found Hermione and Ron snogging on
  the couch. Ron looked up at him with a frown. When he realized who it was, he
  smiled. "Hey Harry, guess who's talking to us again."
  "Really, Ron? It doesn't look like you were talking to me."
  The couple blushed and smiled at each other. "So ,Harry, how did detention
  go? I bet you're glad it's over, having to work with Malfoy and all," said
  Hermione, changing the subject.
  "It was actually quite . . . interesting," said Harry, for lack of a better
  term. What other word could he use? "Astonishing" would have fit the night he
  had just had.
  "Interesting, how?" asked Ron, who needed to know everyone's business.
  "Malfoy thanked me," Harry said simply.
  "He what?" they asked simultaneously.
  "He thanked me, and if you don't mind, I'm going to go to bed because I think
  I may have started dreaming already." He left the two and headed for the
  boy's seventh year dorm.
  "Thanked you for what?" called Ron. But Harry either hadn't heard him or had
  decided not to answer him because all he heard was the dorm door shutting.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 4 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 4 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 6: Impulse
  The next month passed as any other. The Gryffindor team defeated the
  Hufflepuffs by a very embarrassing score of 350-100, and the Slytherins beat
  Ravenclaw by a similar score. It would seem that the only competition the
  Gryffindors would have would be against Slytherin, but that was quite normal.
  Normal. Harry remembered the beginning of the school year when that was all
  he wanted, but now he had to admit that "normal" could be fucking boring. He
  had hoped that his new dueling class would alleviate some of his boredom, but
  so far he had failed to duel against anyone that could challenge him. He
  would have been happy to duel with Malfoy, whose skills closely matched his
  own, but he knew if that occurred he'd probably lose his house more points. A
  positive point scale had just started for the Gryffindors that week, and he
  didn't want to ruin it.
  Thinking of Malfoy, Harry frowned. Even Malfoy was routine. After their
  little discussion in the dungeons that night a month ago, Malfoy had refilled
  his spot as Snape's house pet. The little "thank you" Malfoy had given him
  still lurked upon Harry's mind at times, but obviously it didn't bother
  Malfoy. He was still the mean prick he had always been.
  Lost in thoughts and boredom, Harry did lazy laps around the Quidditch pitch.
  He had begun an evening ritual of flying laps like these a couple of weeks
  ago when his boredom had become apparent to him. Ron and Hermione weren't
  much for entertainment since they were so wrapped up in their new
  relationship. Harry was happy for them of course, but they had created a
  drama that consisted mainly of themselves, and Harry was only a minor
  character in the play. Sometimes he wished Cho was still at Hogwart's. Cho
  would have been good company during these times of ennui. She could always
  make him laugh, even when he was in his darkest moods. Not only that, he had
  told Cho a lot of things, secret things, that he couldn't bring himself to
  tell Ron and Hermione. She would understand his feelings of alienation and
  the loneliness that invaded his soul.
  His thoughts were interrupted when he heard an aristocratic baritone behind
  him. He looked back to see Draco Malfoy following him on his broom. Malfoy's
  cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, were standing on the pitch below him with
  secretive looks marring their normally blank countenances.
  Harry sighed and readied himself for a predictable Malfoy onslaught of verbal
  witticism. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
  Malfoy pulled up beside him in midair and hovered along with him. "Well,
  Potter, I saw how lonely you looked up here and thought I'd keep you
  company."
  Harry rolled his eyes. "Right, Malfoy. I'd enjoy the company of a twelve foot
  Python squeezing me to death more than yours," he said, his voice matching
  the other boy's sarcasm.
  Malfoy let out a cackle. "Alright, Potter, let's put the niceties aside. So,
  I was bored. When I saw you out here, I thought that maybe we could liven
  things up with a little wager."
  "A wager?" Harry wasn't surprised. He knew Malfoy had something up his
  sleeve. But, he was interested. After all, a wager with Malfoy would
  definitely be short of boredom.
  "Yea, a race. To the lake and back"
  "And if I lose?"
  "You have to do my Muggle Studies homework for the rest of the year," Malfoy
  stated simply.
  Harry was surprised. "You, a Malfoy, are taking Muggle Studies?"
  "Yes. It's kind of a correspondence course. I dropped Arithmancy and I
  definitely wasn't going to take Divination. Anyway, I have to do double the
  homework because I'm behind the kids who have taken it for the last couple of
  years."
  Harry mused a little while. He couldn't blame Malfoy for not wanting to take
  Divination. He wished he would have dropped Divination, but he didn't know he
  could. "Understandable. What do I get if I win?"
  "Well, what do you want?"
  Harry was surprised; he figured Malfoy would have figured this part out since
  the whole wager was his idea. He wracked his brain for the most embarrassing
  situation he could think of. Then, he got it. "Alright, Malfoy. If I win, you
  have to carry my Quidditch gear to and from practice and matches." He had to
  admit that he could be pretty evil when he wanted to be. He imagined Malfoy
  caring his gear during the Gryffindor-Slytherin match and suppressed a laugh.
  Draco's eyes widened with astonishment. "That's-That's almost . . .
 diabolical, Potter. If I didn't hate you so much, I would almost admire
  that."
  "Well?"
  "Fine."
  The two boys lined up at the far end of the pitch and waited for Goyle's
  count of "three."
  "One, Two . . ."
  Before Goyle could say "three," Malfoy shot in front of Harry. Harry bit his
  lip, not surprised at Malfoy's cheating. He didn't know of any contest Malfoy
  didn't cheat at. Flying at a breakneck speed behind Malfoy, he had to admire
  the other boy's skill on a broom. Malfoy flew naturally and gracefully,
  although haphazardly.
  When they were nearing the lake, Harry swerved to the right of Malfoy and put
  on more speed. He would out fly the bastard if his life depended on it. The
  speed must have been enough because he overtook Malfoy and begin to circle
  over the lake to head back to the pitch. When he turned around, though, his
  smugness was replaced with shock and fear. Malfoy, now facing him, preparing
  for his own loop, was suddenly jerked downward. Harry watched as Malfoy fell
  at a quick rate. A tentacle was wrapped around Malfoy's broom and was pulling
  him toward the lake. Malfoy's broom snapped in half by the force of the thing
  that had a hold on him, and he fell into the black waters of the lake.
  Harry hovered above the lake looking down. The ripples where Malfoy had
  disappeared were now subsided and the lake looked calm and peaceful. Harry
  thought for less than a tenth of a second before he pulled himself standing
  atop his broom and dived into the cold waters.
  The cold shocked his nerves at first, but his body quickly adjusted to the
  change of temperature. Harry looked around underwater. This felt like de-ja-
  vu, and his mind reconjured the events of the Tri-Wizard tournament during
  his fourth year. This time was different though, since he didn't have any
  gillyweed to help him breathe underwater.
  Harry's arms and legs cut through the water like a knife cutting through
  butter. He could only see about two feet in front of him because the lake was
  so dismal and dirty. Luckily he hadn't wasted much time following Malfoy's
  fall because his eyes soon lit upon a silvery glow beckoning to him from the
  left. He changed direction and came face to face with the giant squid, which
  held Malfoy in its grasp. Malfoy was completely conscious, and his face was
  distorted with fear and the pain of being squeezed so hard by the creature's
  tentacle.
  He looked around for something to attack the creature with and found a sharp
  stone. He grabbed it and began striking the tentacle that held Malfoy. The
  creature didn't even loosen its hold. Instead, another tentacle grabbed Harry
  around the waist and began to squeeze the little air he had left out of him.
  Harry dropped the stone and his mind began computing and rejecting various
  plans of retaliation. Finally, he lit upon a plan. But, would it work? He
  stretched his arm down his robe, trying to get to his wand pocket.
  Unfortunately, the squid's tentacle was blocking the opening. Stretching
  further, he yanked at the bottom of the pocket, ripping it. He caught his
  wand before it fell to the bottom of the lake, pointed it at the creature's
  forehead and thought with all of his might."
  "STUPEFY!"
  The squid went rigid and its tentacles released the two boys. Harry swam to
  Malfoy, who was dropping like a stone, and grabbed a hold of Malfoy's hand.
  Together, they swam to the surface. They bobbed upon the surface looking not
  unlike two water-slick seals. Their throats were raw from sucking in the
  much-needed oxygen. Harry looked over at Malfoy and said, "We better get on
  dry land before that thing comes to. I don't know how long the spell is going
  to last." Malfoy nodded in agreement, and they swam to the shore, crawled to
  dry land, and collapsed into heaps beside each other.
  Malfoy was the first one to break the silence. "Thanks, Potter."
  Harry leaned up on his elbows and gazed at the other boy. "This isn't going
  to become a habit is it, Malfoy? You thanking me?"
  Malfoy laughed, a true laugh minus sarcasm and snobbery. "I bloody well hope
  not."
  "Well, I guess we better get to the hospital wing. My waist feels like it's
  bruising and my throat is sore. I'm sure you're feeling worse.
  Malfoy nodded then and they walked side by side to the castle. Before
  reaching the hospital wing door, though, Malfoy turned to Harry. "So, Potter,
  I guess I better meet you before your Quidditch practice tomorrow, eh?"
  "What do you mean, Malfoy? We didn't finish the race.."
  "No we didn't," Malfoy admitted, "but, I'm pretty sure you won."
  Harry shook his head in confusion. Sometimes Malfoy could really astonish
  him. So, he simply nodded his head in agreement before he opened the hospital
  wing door.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 7 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 7 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 7: Agreement
  "Blimey, Harry, what happened?" Ron asked when Harry entered the common room.
  Harry looked down himself and decided Ron's concern was definitely well
  justified. Although he had dried out in the hospital wing, his robes were
  torn to shreds and hanging around him rather limply. He could only imagine
  how bad his hair looked. Although he wasn't sure it could get any messier
  than it was any other day.
  "I'll tell you after I get a shower. A hot one," he said.
  After his shower, Harry returned to the common room and chose the chair that
  was closest to the fireplace. He couldn't seem to escape the chill that had
  permeated his being after his cold dip in the lake. He wasn't sure, though,
  if he was cold from the water or the icy fear that had enveloped him when he
  watched Malfoy plummet into the black depths of the lake.
  Ron must have decided to let Harry have some time to collect his thoughts
  because they were both silent for a while. Finally, Harry spoke. "Malfoy and
  I had a little race today."
  "Really? What happened? You didn't get into a fight, did you?" Ron asked,
  fearing that another point reduction was going to take place.
  Harry wasn't surprised about Ron's assumptions. After all, it did look as if
  he had been in some type of brawl that afternoon. He almost smiled; he was in
  a brawl. His adversary just happened to be a giant squid. "No, no. We raced
  from the pitch to the lake. Malfoy was pulled into the lake by the giant
  squid."
  Ron wasn't stupid. He was able to put two and two together to get four.
  "Don't tell me you went in after him willingly?"
  Harry looked almost guilty then. "Yea, I did. The squid had a good hold on
  him. It got a hold on me, too. I managed to Stupefy it, though, and we got
  away."
  His best friend was shocked. Harry could see it written all over his face.
  This time it was his turn to give Ron time to think. He could almost see the
  wheels turning in Ron's brain while he tried to grasp the situation that had
  occurred.
  After a few minutes, Ron was able to reply. "I can't believe you saved his
  life," he said, looking up at Harry in astonishment. "After all he did to
  you, to us, over the years, you actually saved that git."
  "Christ, Ron, no one deserves to die. Besides, I acted on impulse. If it's
  any consolation, I won the wager."
  "It might be. What did you win?"
  "Malfoy has to carry my Quidditch gear to and from the pitch for the rest of
  the year. Matches included," Harry said with a smug smile.
  Ron laughed, a loud, jarring laugh that echoed throughout the room. He
  laughed until there were tears streaming down his face. "Now, that it almost
  worth your saving his life," he said, slapping himself on the knee.
  "Yea it is. Just, Ron, please don't tell anyone what happened today, okay?"
  "Why not? That would be the perfect way to rub something in Malfoy's face for
  once. Wouldn't it?"
  "Just don't." Harry wasn't sure why he wanted to keep it a secret, but he
  did. "You can tell Hermione, but no one else. I really wouldn't want it to
  get around that I went soft and helped Malfoy. So, if anyone asks, Malfoy's
  carrying my gear because I won a race, okay?"
  "Alright," said Ron rather reluctantly. He seemed to accept Harry's
  explanation, though, and he began talking about the last Chudley Cannons
  match Harry only half listened. His thoughts were still spinning in his mind.
  Why did he want to keep it a secret? Finally, Harry's mind decided upon an
  answer: Because Malfoy had thanked him . . . again.
  Draco put down his Muggle Studies textbook on the table and rubbed his eyes.
  He never would really understand all that garbage. His father had never
  taught him anything about Muggles, other than to hate them. It had been three
  weeks since Potter had saved him. He still felt a rush of astonishment take
  over his body whenever he thought about it. Why did he save him, his enemy?
  The only thing he could think of was that he was just Harry Potter. Harry
  Potter was simply destined to be a hero. He wasn't sure if he liked that idea
  or not.
  Every day Harry had practice, Draco carried his gear. They seemed to have an
  unwritten agreement that they wouldn't talk about what happened that day,
  though. So, they didn't talk about anything. Draco carried Harry's gear and
  that was all. Draco was even more surprised when he realized that Harry never
  told anyone about his saving him. His housemates seemed to think that he had
  lost a simple wager, and although, they jibed him about it, they really
  weren't angry with him. They were used to him losing against Potter. Even
  Crabbe and Goyle had no idea what happened at the lake. They had asked him
  why he and Harry didn't finish the race at the pitch, and Draco had told them
  that he and Potter had decided on a different finish line halfway through the
  race.
  Things definitely had changed. Because of what Potter did, Draco couldn't
 seem to bring himself to annoy him anymore. Had their rivalry ended? He
  wasn't sure. He still hated Potter, didn't he? Of course he did. He would
  always hate Potter. He just didn't hate him as much as he did in the past.
  Draco seemed satisfied with these thoughts and picked up his book again and
  tried to study.
  When Harry went to the library that evening, he was surprised to see Draco
  Malfoy there. Malfoy usually used the library earlier in the day while Harry,
  Ron, and Hermione used it during the evening. It seemed to be another one of
  those unwritten agreements that they shared.
  He watched as Malfoy flung his book down on the table in disgust and rubbed
  his eyes. Harry looked at the cover of the book: A History of Muggle
  Inventions and Their Uses. Malfoy hadn't been lying when he said he was
  having trouble, Harry mused. Before he knew what he was doing, he walked over
  to him. "Good evening, Malfoy." Malfoy looked up at him without replying.
  Harry continued anyway, "Listen, why don't you tell me what you're working
  on, and I'll see if I can help?" Where did that come from? Thought Harry.
  Since when do I offer to be of help to Malfoy?
  Malfoy was surprised. "You didn't lose any wagers, Potter."
  "No, but if you tell me how you got out of your elective and into this one,
  we could consider it a deal. I want to drop Divination as soon as possible.
  Maybe I'll take Muggle Studies, too." Harry was surprised that he said this.
  He had been thinking about the switch for some time, but he hadn't realized
  his brain had already made the decision.
  "You're going to willingly work with me on correspondence? Is Divination
  really that horrible, Potter?" Draco asked. His face was still transmitting
  confused looks Harry's way.
  "Yea, it's definitely dreadful. Anyway, what are you working on?"
  Draco opened the book to the chapter he was reading: Electricity: What it is
  and How THEY Use it. Harry thought it was pretty funny how the wizarding
  author had emphasized the word "they," but he kept that to himself.
  "I'm supposed to read this chapter and write an essay about how electricity
  has helped Muggles save time. I have to use three electrical inventions to
  explain my thesis," Draco said.
  Harry sat down. "Okay, well let's start with the microwave. . ."
  An hour later, Harry was still going over the electric dishwasher when Ron
  and Hermione entered the library. Ron took one look at who Harry was talking
  to and saw red. He sauntered over to the table and glared down at the two
  boys. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Harry?"
  Harry looked up, surprised to see Ron there. He and Draco had been having an
  okay time discussing electricity. Draco had even let off a few good jokes
  about alternative uses for some of the electrical appliances outlined in the
  chapter. "Um, I'm going over electricity with Malfoy," he said.
  "I can see that, the question is WHY?" Ron boomed. Hermione quickly placed
  her hand over Ron's mouth. The last thing she wanted was to be kicked out of
  her library.
  "Well, Malfoy is taking Muggle Studies as a correspondence course, and I
  figured we could work together since I'm going to drop Divination and take it
  up, too." Harry said.
  Ron looked hurt. "You mean, you'd rather work with Malfoy than take a class
  with me?" he asked in a rather high-pitched tone. He glared at Malfoy as if
  he were hoping he'd drop through the floor.
  "No, Ron. It's just . . . Well, I'd do just about anything to get away from
  Trelawney and her unending death prophecies. If you want, maybe you could
  take correspondence, too." Draco sniggered at this comment.
  "Me, purposely take a course with Malfoy? Are you kidding? I'd rather put up
  with Trelawney, thank you very much. At least she is consistent," he said,
  looking purposely at Harry. He then stalked out of the room, leaving Hermione
  there.
  Hermione gave a wan smile. "Harry, I'll try to talk to him," she said and
  turned away. Before reaching the door though, she looked back at Harry. "And
  Harry, I think it's great you and Malfoy are working together. I really do."
  She then left the room.
  Draco gave a gasp at Hermione's last statement. "The mudblood doesn't mind
  you working with me." he said. It was a statement rather than a question.
  Harry looked at Malfoy; his shackles beginning to rise. "Hermione doesn't
  hold grudges, Malfoy. And, I'd appreciate if you didn't use the term mudblood
  around me if you want my help with this class.
  Draco looked down and nodded. He then swallowed heavily and replied,
  "Alright, Potter. I'll try to get along with Granger if you help me with
  this."
  "What about Ron?" Harry asked.
  "Well, I'll just have to ignore him, I guess."
  "Then, it's an agreement?" asked Harry, looking for dishonesty on Draco's
  visage. He didn't see any, but Malfoy was good at being dishonest.
  "Yea, it's an agreement. As long as you agree on one thing."
  "What's that, Malfoy?"
  "We are not friends, nor will we ever be," said Malfoy, glaring at him now.
  Harry sighed, "That's something I definitely would never disagree with,
  Malfoy."
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 8 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 8 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 8: Reaction
  Harry and Draco's agreement bordered on civility. Although they traded
  insults at an alarming rate, they often found themselves engaged in pleasant
  conversation. Although Hermione took this very well, Ron was another story.
  Now that Harry had registered for the Muggle Studies Correspondence course,
  he and Draco were spending a lot of time together. It never dawned on Ron
  that he had been spending an absorbing amount of time with Hermione before
  the Harry-Draco "catastrophe".
  Hermione did her best to salve Ron's feelings, but Ron was still hurt by what
  he believed was Harry's betrayal. After several weeks of ignoring Harry,
  though, he couldn't deal with the absence of his best friend. So, he decided
  to ignore the situation instead of Harry, and their friendship was resumed.
  Ron couldn't escape the feeling though that his and Harry's bond would never
  be the same. Harry seemed different now, quieter, as if he were spending a
  great deal of time on thought. He also was bringing Malfoy's name up quite
  often in conversations. If Ron didn't know any better, he'd think that Harry
  had a crush.
  Unlike Ron, Hermione wasn't one to engage in self-deception. She couldn't
  fail to notice the looks Harry gave Malfoy when Malfoy wasn't looking. She
  also saw the way Harry's eyes lit up when it was time for his and Malfoy's
  daily library study. Whether or not the feelings were reciprocated, she
  didn't know. Malfoy had the uncanny ability to keep his face and eyes free
  from emotion. She couldn't help but to note, though, that Malfoy hadn't
  called her any names in over a month and that he would go out of his way to
  greet her if she entered the library when he was there. That was something,
  wasn't it? He also hadn't picked any fights with Ron since the bloody brawl
  they had engaged in at the end of the first week of the term. She hoped for
  Harry's sake that Malfoy had changed because if he hadn't, she knew she would
  be helping Harry to pick up the pieces of his broken heart.
  Harry sat in front of the fire trying his best to warm up. Winter had come
  early, and the middle of November felt like a normal January. He had just
  returned from his Muggle Studies exam, and he was exhausted. It was really
  hard to write about Muggle beliefs and practices with a wizard's perspective
  when he had been raised as a Muggle for most of his life. During their weekly
  discussion, he and Professor Vector would often get into disagreements about
  why Muggles did this or that. Harry knew he was right, but he also knew he
  had to let Vector win the arguments in order to get good grades. Malfoy would
  often listen to his and Vector's arguments with amusement. He would joke
  about them afterward and compare Harry and Vector's disagreements to
  domesticated henpecking. Even though Harry didn't like arguing with Vector,
  he knew he wouldn't give up the course because it gave him an excuse to talk
  to Malfoy.
  Harry had admitted to himself weeks ago that he had feelings for Malfoy. In
  fact, it hit him like a freight train one night when he woke up from a very
  erotic dream about the silver-haired Slytherin. Harry knew, however, that he
  could not let Draco know how he felt because he would rather be near him and
  silent than run the risk of pushing him away. He told Cho this in one of his
  letters. He didn't tell her the name of his "crush," though, and she seemed
  to have quite a bit of fun guessing. So far she had guessed Neville
  Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, and Professor Snape. Harry knew that the last
  person she would even think of guessing was Draco Malfoy. He wasn't sure yet
  whether he wanted to tell her or not. He still had misgivings about admitting
  it to himself. He hated Draco Malfoy. He didn't know how he could hate
  someone and like him at the same time, but that was the predicament he was
  in. So, he kept silent about it. However, as his feelings grew, it was
  getting harder and harder to keep his desire restrained.
  The early winter was putting many of the students in a bad mood, especially
  the Quidditch players who had to practice in the bitter cold. Draco Malfoy's
  mood was no exception. His moods had always been extreme. When he was happy,
  he was ecstatic, and when he was mad, he was downright irate.
  The wind was so fierce that day that it had the nerve to whip through Draco's
  hair. His usually, carefully slicked hair was tumbling about his face in a
  whirlwind. He cursed to himself. He couldn't believe the Gryffindors were
  practicing in this weather. Not only that, Harry's fucking Quidditch bag was
  HEAVY! It was always heavy, but it pissed him off even more today because of
  the foul mood he was in. Finally, he stopped following Potter and dropped the
  bag with a loud thump. Hearing the noise, Potter stopped walking and turned
  to him.
  "What's wrong?" he asked Draco, taking in the other boy's dark mood.
  "What the fuck do you have in here Potter? A dead body?" He unzipped Harry's
  bag and pulled out his broom, his practice robes, and his shoes. Then,
  looking at the bottom of the bag, he stared in disbelief. "Rocks? You put
  rocks in your Quidditch bag?"
  "Uh, yeah," said Harry, wishing he had taken them out a month ago.
  "I can't believe you! You put rocks in your bag just to make this ordeal
  harder for me!" He glared at Harry with utter scorn and unceremoniously
  dumped the rocks at Harry's feet. Then, he did something atypical of Draco
  Malfoy. He laughed. His laughter was loud and from the belly. He laughed
  until his sides ached and he was rolling on the ground in the rocks he had
  just dumped out. Seeing Draco laugh was like medicine for Harry's own foul
  mood, and he was soon rolling around next to the Slytherin laughing just as
  loud.
  When their laughter ceased, they both were panting, trying to catch their
  breath. "Bloody hell, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time, " Draco
  said.
  "Me neither."
  Draco pushed himself up on his elbows and appraised the boy lying next to
 him. He couldn't get over how green Harry's eyes were. Just then, Harry
  reached up and gingerly smoothed a lock of silver hair off of his cheek.
  Draco paused for a second and looked down at Harry, noting the strange look
  in his jade eyes. With that, he shot up like a rocket. He threw Harry's gear
  back into his bag and charged for the Quidditch pitch. He was in a bad mood
  again, which was made worse by the stinging feeling of his cheek where Harry
  had touched him.
  Harry sighed, got up slowly and walked the path Draco had abused with his
  angry march. He didn't know what possessed him to lose control like that, but
  he now knew he could never lose it again. He knew Malfoy would get over it
  since he knew the boy better by now, but he also knew that he wouldn't forget
  it.
  Draco looked out of the window of the Astronomy tower. It was snowing. He
  sighed. Quidditch had been postponed until spring because of the early
  winter, so he had very little now to occupy his time. He couldn't believe
  they had only had a chance to play one match that year. That meant that he
  would have to make Quidditch practices extra grueling when spring rolled
  around.
  Draco remembered that day when Harry touched his hair, his cheek. He had
  dwelled on it so much that he hadn't been able to talk to Harry for over a
  week. Finally, he had chalked it up to the wind and to the friendship that
  was inevitable. If anyone had asked him a year ago if he would ever be
  friends with Harry Potter, he would have told them to go fuck themselves. Now
  things were drastically different. He and Harry had taken up conversing
  outside of the library, and it was now common knowledge to the school that
  they had forgiven each other for the past. Draco was pleased by this
  development. He had never had any real friends. Sure, his housemates would
  talk and laugh with him, but they wouldn't confide in him because he had
  rejected the Dark Mark. Because he never had anyone to confide in, he often
  felt himself wishing he could tell Harry about his childhood, how he was
  raised, and the things he had seen. But, he could imagine the look of
  astonishment on the Gryffindor's face and quickly squelched that idea.
  These were his musings when Harry entered the astronomy tower. Draco didn't
  see him at first because he was wearing his invisibility cloak. In fact, he
  had almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Potter's voice behind him.
  "What are you looking at?"
  After catching his breath he asked, "What are you doing up here? You know
  it's after hours."
  "Are you going to report me?" Harry asked him. After all, Malfoy was Head
  Boy, and while he was allowed to roam about at all hours of the night, Harry
  wasn't even a Prefect, so he was prohibited.
  "Naw," Draco said. He turned back to the window. "It's snowing," he said
  simply.
  "Yea, I know. That's why I couldn't sleep. The first snowfall is always
  exciting."
  Draco looked at Harry's eyes, which shone like two unmined emeralds in the
  dimly lit room. He was surprised that Harry entertained the same childish
  delight that he did in regard to the first snowfall. "I hope it sticks. That
  way we could have a house snowball fight."
  Harry glided up next to Draco and they both peered at the beautiful sight
  outside. Draco sighed rather heavily and Harry felt himself turning to him
  with concern. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying to solve the mystery of
  Draco's expression.
  "Not much, it's just that if I was home, my mother and I would probably be
  drinking hot cocoa and watching the snow through the drawing room window,"
  his expression turned sad then.
  "You miss her?"
  "Yea," Draco admitted, turning his shiny, silver eyes to Harry. "She's not
  like my father, she's . . . fragile and kind."
  "Well, you'll see her at Christmas, right?" Harry asked.
  Draco shook his head rather sadly. "No, I can't go home at Christmas. I don't
  dare go home. I don't know what my father would do to me if I was home for
  that length of time."
  "What did he say when you refused the Dark Mark?" Harry had wanted to ask
  that question for a long time now. Draco had never been in a sharing mood
  though, until this time, and he sort of felt guilty for taking advantage of
  it.
  "Surprisingly, nothing. He said it was my choice, but he didn't consider me a
  worthy Malfoy anymore."
  "If he did nothing, why are you afraid to return?"
  Draco looked confused. His eyes narrowed in thought. "I don't know. I just
  have a feeling that it's not over. Do you know what I mean?"
  "Yea," Harry said, although he didn't know. He hadn't been raised by Lucius
  Malfoy. Thank God. "Why does your mother stay with him?"
  This question seemed to make Draco even sadder, but he answered anyway. "I
  think she's afraid of what he will do if she leaves." That's all he could
  say. His throat had clenched up like it did before crying, and a single tear
  cascaded down his face. That's all he would give in to, though. One tear,
  shed for his mother, whom he had abandoned.
  Harry couldn't bear seeing this. Without thinking, he reached for Draco and
  pulled him into an embrace. He meant the hug to be friendly and reassuring,
  but the months of restraint made this impossible. His logic completely
  crumbled then and he kissed Draco. It was a soft kiss at first, but became
  more demanding when his subconscious realized Draco was frozen stiff with
  shock. When he realized Draco was not kissing him back, he pulled away to
  face the music.
  Draco stood stock still for almost a full minute, staring at the raven-haired
  boy in front of him. His emotions were whirling around in his brain. He felt
  all of them at the same time: hate, sadness, despair, shock, anger, and a
  feeling underneath all of these that he had never felt before. It was too
  much for him to bear, and he did as any other teenage boy would do when faced
  with that feeling. He ran away.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 9 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 9 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 9: Rejection
  Hermione and Ron were having a long chat in Hermione's room. As Head Girl,
  she had the privilege of her own quarters now. Ron was thankful for this
  since he and Hermione had starting sleeping together the week before. Ron
  glanced over at Hermione. It still surprised him sometimes how she completely
  let down her guard around him. She was lying on the bed rather quietly, the
  sheets pushed down to her waist, her upper body left completely bare. God,
  she was beautiful, Ron thought. He rolled over on his side facing her and
  began slowly circling her nipple with the pad of his index finger. She gasped
  then and pushed his hand away.
  "Ron, as much as I love it when you do that, we really need to talk," she
  said. She knew the last thing that Ron wanted to do was talk, but she had
  decided earlier that day that they were to have this discussion, and she
  didn't like changing her plans.
  "Aww Herm, can't you think of better things to do?" Ron asked, raising his
  eyebrows several times suggestively. She laughed and swatted him on the head
  with the heel of her hand.
  "It's about Harry and Malfoy," she said rather abruptly. This must have
  gained Ron's attention because he quickly sat up and folded his arms.
  "What about Harry and Malfoy?"
  Although Hermione had decided to have this discussion with Ron, no matter how
  she had tried to go about it in her head, it didn't sound right. So at first
  she was at a complete loss for words. After seeing the look in Ron's eyes,
  that "will you hurry up already?" she plunged ahead. "Well, you know how
  they've been hanging around a lot right?" Ron nodded. "I've been watching
  them a lot lately, trying to figure out why they're getting along."
  Ron sighed,"That's easy Herm. Harry saved Malfoy's life. Now, he feels
  indebted to Harry, but when he gets over it, things will go back to normal."
  Hermione looked at Ron. He had an almost pleading look on his face. She knew
  it was there because he wanted her to agree with him. She wished she could,
  but she couldn't. Ron could be so aloof sometimes, and the funny thing was,
  it was his own fault because he refused to see what was in front of him. That
  was one of the reasons he had taken so long to admit his attraction for her.
  "Ron," she said gently, "I don't think that's it at all."
  "Well, what is it then? The only other thing I can think of is that Malfoy
  put Imperius on Harry and is forcing him to be his friend. But, that's a
  little ridiculous since we both know Harry can fight it."
  "I think Harry has feelings for Malfoy."
  Ron looked both astonished and disgusted at the same time. "Please don't go
  where I think you're going, Hermione."
  "Oh, Ron. You can be so close-minded. Have you ever seen the way Harry looks
  at Malfoy, or the way he watches the clock when it's almost time for him to
  meet him to study?" Ron was silent. "I have, Ron, and I'm pretty sure I'm
  right. You've been so busy trying to ignore the fact that they're friends,
  you've failed to realize that it might be something altogether more."
  During this part of the speech Ron had turned his head and was staring at a
  point across the room. Hermione could see that his face was getting redder
  and redder by the minute. Ron was like a firecracker. He had a short fuse and
  a big bang. Suddenly, he jumped out of bed and glared down at her. "You are
  crazy! There is no fucking way Harry is interested in Malfoy. For one, he's a
  . . . guy, and for another, he's Draco Fucking Malfoy. He's evil incarnate!
  Harry is with Cho, and that's all there is to it." With that speech left in
  the air, he stormed out of Hermione's room. Hermione watched him go a little
  upset and amused at the same time. She was upset because she knew he was
  hurting and amused because he was probably now stalking naked through the
  common room back to his dorm. Although the situation was quite hilarious, she
  hoped no one was still up at this hour, or Ron would never hear the end of
  it. That's all she needed, something else to piss him off.
  It took Harry a long time to get back to the common room that night. The
  blatant rejection Draco had given him weighed down the very soles of his
  feet, but that was okay. He wasn't looking forward to going to bed and
  sinking further into his misery. When he entered the portrait room, his eyes
  were accosted with an angry, naked Ron. Ron almost charged headlong into him
  before he realized he was there. "What the hell?' grumbled Ron, and pulled
  the invisibility cloak off of Harry. "Where have you been?" he asked the
  other boy. His anger was quite vividly written on his face.
  "Out," said Harry, refusing to elaborate more.
 "Yea, well, a better friend would let his friends know where he was going so
  they don't worry about him," Ron said and scratched his belly. When his
  fingers made contact with bare flesh, his state of undress finally dawned on
  him. He looked down at himself and up at Harry, his face turning from a vivid
  shade of red to ghostly white in an instant. "Oh, Fuck!" he yelled and
  charged to the dorm.
  Despite his overwhelming misery, Harry couldn't help but to smile. He didn't
  know what that was all about, but he could imagine why Ron was undressed and
  whom he was angry with. One thing he couldn't understand, though, was Ron's
  embarrassment. After all, he had seen Ron naked many times in the Quidditch
  locker room.
  Finally, at around four in the morning, Draco Malfoy was able to sleep. The
  whirling of emotions deep inside his brain had finally exhausted him. He
  slept deeply, but it was not a restful sleep due to troubled dreams. His
  sleep-addled brain had managed to conjure a dense phantasmagoric fog around
  him. He was lost and running. Away from what he did not know. All he was able
  to realize was that he was running away from a part of himself. Deep into the
  fog he ran, only able to discern a few feet ahead of him. He was running
  through a forest of some kind. The mangled, knotty trees bowed toward him as
  if reaching to grab him and hold him there to be caught by that which he ran
  from.
  Finally, he ran until the fog had started to dissipate. Before him, larger
  than life was a stone wall unlike any wall he had ever seen. It was so bright
  the glare made him squint in its beauty. The jade brilliance of the wall was
  sending out streaks of light that cut the fog around him. Draco knew he was
  trapped. He looked to the left and to the right, but there seemed to be no
  end to the strange wall. He ran to it intending to climb over it, but the
  stones were so slick he could gain no leverage. Looking up, he realized that
  the wall ascended forever in this direction as well. Draco knew there was
  only one thing he could do. He turned and awaited the thing that was chasing
  him. He would simply have to face it and hope he survived. In a moment the
  thing had caught up to him. He knew it was there although he couldn't see it.
  He could feel it, though, and it weighed down upon him, oppressing his very
  soul. He felt this indefinable mystery invade him and fill him. It overflowed
  him and he collapsed under the sheer ecstasy of its torment. He blacked out
  then into darkness. Now, Draco Malfoy was able to truly sleep.
  When Draco woke up the next morning, he felt different. Scanning his physical
  and mental self, he couldn't note any differences, but he felt changed all
  the same. He thought over the night before with Harry in the Astronomy Tower
  and sighed. He definitely valued his new friendship with Harry, but this was
  unforgivable. His logic told him he would simply have to end the camaraderie
  that they had been sharing. Unbeknownst to him, his inner being, his
  subconscious, was completely disagreeing with this logic.
  When Harry entered the library that day, he was shocked to see Malfoy there.
  He was hoping, but he didn't actually believe Malfoy would show up to their
  daily study. He quickly gathered all the courage he could muster before he
  slid into the seat next to the Slytherin. Draco looked at him as if
  surprised. "What are you doing here, Potter?"
  Harry gaped at him and mumbled, "I thought we were studying."
  Draco's silver eyes darkened to the shade of inflexible sheet metal. "There
  is no we, Potter. I thought I made it clear a long time ago that we are not
  friends."
  "If this is about last night, Malfoy, I want to apologize," Harry stammered,
  stumbling over the words.
  "Forget about last night," Malfoy barked abruptly, "I won't tell anyone about
  your preferences, Potter because if I did, I would have to explain how you
  tried to molest me. This whole agreement was a mistake from the start. So,
  I'm ending it. Things will be back to normal from now on." With this speech,
  Draco got up, threw his books into his rucksack and stalked from the room
  with his typical arrogant stride. Harry, watching him go, was unable to
  suppress the twin tears that brimmed his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.
  Malfoy had lied when he said things were going to be back to normal, though.
  Normal would be Malfoy being a mean git to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. No,
  Malfoy wasn't mean to them any longer, he was outright evil. He took every
  opportunity to ridicule them in front of others. He sabotaged every
  entertaining diversion they sought with one another, and he did it all with
  the crooked, unmistakable smirk of hatred that they had grown accustomed to.
  During these first two weeks of December, Harry was able to reestablish the
  hate he had reserved for Malfoy. But, on quiet winter nights, when no one
  else was around, Harry secretly relived the brief companionship he had
  experienced with his enemy.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 10 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 10 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 10: Confession
  By the third week of December, the students at Hogwart's were tired of the
  snow. It had snowed so much that winter that the castle looked as if an icy
  fortress was protecting it from intrusions. On the day of the Yule Ball, the
  last day of the term, the students were in high spirits despite the wintry
  weather. The members of Gryffindor were delighted to see the return of Cho
  Chang as Harry's date. Cho was a favorite of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws alike
  because of her quick wit and kindness. Harry was extremely happy to see her
  because he hadn't had a chance to talk to anyone, really talk to anyone,
  since she had graduated last year.
  Cho stood beside him looking as beautiful as ever. Her dark hair was styled
  in a fashionable bob, and she hadn't lost the tan she had acquired from her
  daily Quidditch practices over the summer. At first Harry had a hard time
  talking to her because he couldn't stop grinning in delight. To all the
  students at the ball, he looked like a smitten boyfriend, but Cho knew he was
  simply glad she was there. Rolling her eyes at Harry's sudden muteness, she
  pulled him out on the dance floor. They danced rather well together, not due
  to any type of skill or grace, but because they were accustomed to one
  another.
  "So, Harry, have you given any thought to what I wrote to you about?" Cho
  asked. She knew that he would know what she was talking about.
  "Erm, yea. Quite a bit, actually."
  "Well?"
  "I think you're right. Maybe we should `break up'."
  Cho sighed then. "So, you're not going to tell them you're gay?"
  Harry pulled back from her slightly to look in her eyes. "No, I'm not. I'm
  just not ready yet. They're not ready yet."
  "Okay, it's not for me to say when you tell your friends, but what about this
  guy you're crushing on?" she asked.
  Harry reddened then, and his once perfect rhythm was lost as he fidgeted from
  foot to foot. "I'm not crushing anymore," he replied rather sternly.
  Cho knew from the tone of his voice that he would refuse to discuss any more
  matters on that topic, so she looked around trying to think of another
  conversation piece. When her gaze lit on a pair of steely gray eyes, she
 said, "I see Malfoy is just as big of a git as he's always been. What did you
  do to tick him off? He's staring a hole in your back."
  Harry became defensive then. "Nothing! I did nothing to that bastard!" The
  hairs on his head were actually bristling.
  No, it can't be, thought Cho. Malfoy? She looked at the silver-haired boy
  then and tried to appraise him objectively. She had to admit, he was really
  handsome. He had grown quite tall, and he seemed pretty well built too,
  considering the width of his shoulders. It was hard to discern someone's
  physique when you only saw him in robes. All right, so Malfoy is extremely
  sexy, but he had the demeanor of a snake. Besides, he treated everyone who
  wasn't a Slytherin like they were dirt to be tread on by his extremely
  expensive shoes. Especially Harry. Cho looked up at Harry and caught him
  looking in the same direction she had just been gazing, which was hard, since
  he had to actually turn his neck. Well, that answers my question, she
  thought.
  Harry looked over at Malfoy who was across the room dancing with his date,
  Pansy Parkinson. Looking at the two of them together, both blonde, both
  attractive, both Slytherins, he felt a jolt of jealousy hit him like an arrow
  to the heart. They looked so right together! He turned back to his own date
  and caught an indiscernible look in her eye. He gave her his best sheepish
  look and prayed she wouldn't ask any questions. She didn't
  The ball was over well after midnight. Most of the students had gone back to
  their rooms already since they were returning home for Christmas the next
  morning. Harry walked Cho to the main entrance. She was going to Hogsmeade so
  she could Apparate to her own home to spend Christmas with her family.
  "So," Harry said, "I guess this is goodbye." The goodbye had a double meaning
  to it since they had decided to break off their faade.
  "Yes. You'll still write to me, won't you? We've always been the best of
  friends."
  "Of course," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Have a Happy
  Christmas, Cho. Hedwig will bring your gift first thing in the morning."
  "And Curmudgeon will bring yours. Happy Christmas, Harry," she said and
  turned to the door. But, her hand froze on the knob and she turned to him
  again. "Oh, and Harry, do be careful," she said with the same indiscernible
  look she had displayed earlier."
  "Always," Harry replied. And she was gone. He turned and slowly walked down
  the corridor to get to the steps leading to the Gryffindor tower. When he
  passed an unused classroom, a pair of hands grabbed him by the robes, pulled
  him inside and flung him across the room into the far wall.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 11 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 11 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 11: Confessions
  Harry thrashed wildly in the dark against his attacker who now had him pinned
  against the wall. Whoever his assailant was, he was strong and extremely
  angry. Harry fought against the weight that was crushing him against the
  hard, stone wall. His opponent grunted bestially and began to slam Harry's
  body against the stones again and again. Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed
  as hard as he could against his adversary. He was able to push him a few feet
  away from him so he could get to his wand and cast a spell.
  "Lumos!"
  Harry blinked in the sudden brightness cast by his wand. He then eyed his
  competition and gasped. Draco Malfoy. "What the hell are you doing here, and
  why the hell did you attack me?" he asked the boy. Draco did not answer. He
  only flung himself bodily at Harry. Harry felt himself yet again crushed to
  the wall, and his wand skidded to the floor, its light blinking out as it hit
  the flagstones. "Get off of me, Malfoy, you bloody Bastard!" He yelled. He
  was having a hard time keeping Malfoy from beating him against the wall. The
  Slytherin had an almost inhuman strength that could only be caused by anger.
  "Fuck you, Potter," he said spitting the "P" like venom.
  Harry did the only thing he could think of. He ducked down and plowed the
  other boy like a linebacker. Both boys tumbled to the floor in a mess of arms
  and legs. Harry knocked the wind out of Malfoy when he landed on top of him.
  He quickly rolled off and listened to the other boy's wheezing as he tried to
  catch his breath. Crawling on his hands and knees, Harry felt for his wand on
  the floor. When he found it, he cast the Lumos spell again and looked around.
  There were two lanterns hanging on the far wall. He lit them using the Lumos
  spell again.
  Finally recovering from lack of air, Draco stumbled to his feet and glared
  daggers at Harry. "What's the matter, Potter, afraid of the dark?" he
  taunted.
  "What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked.
  "Revenge," Draco said simply, hate permeated every letter of the word.
  "For what?"
  "You know bloody well for what! For mauling me, you stupid prat!"
  Harry sighed heavily and looked at Malfoy who was seething. He knew the only
  thing he could do was apologize. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you,
  Malfoy. I really don't know what got into me."
  Draco had never accepted an apology in his life, and he wasn't about to now.
  "Is that what you say whenever you kiss your girlfriend?" he asked jeering.
  "No, I bet you apologize quite regularly when you can't get it up in bed."
  Anger that was slowly heating in Harry boiled over. "You have no right to
  talk about Cho like that, Malfoy. If you say anything else, I'm going to
  punch that sneer off your face!"
  "Really," said Malfoy, rising to the challenge. "Does Cho know you like boys,
  Potter, or does she invite one or two in every now and then when you screw?"
  That was the breaking point. Harry's fist refused to listen to the signals
  his brain was giving it. It shot out then and hit Draco Malfoy in the jaw.
  Draco's head snapped back, and his body reeled backward. He caught himself
  before he fell, though, and lunged toward Harry, crashing into him and
  pinning him against the wall for a third time. Harry prepared himself for
  Draco's punches by flexing every muscle in his body. Draco's eyes were level
  with his, and he saw himself reflected in the silver orbs. He couldn't read
  the emotion that was in their shiny depths. With a guttural cry, Draco
  attacked Harry. With a kiss.
  Draco's lips had crashed down upon his. He was kissing him roughly, showing
  no mercy. Harry tasted blood when the inside of his mouth crashed against his
  teeth. He knew he should push Draco away, put some space between them, but he
  couldn't. Instead, he began kissing him back. Draco's force eased up little
  by little until he was kissing Harry with a different kind of passion. He
  pushed his tongue into Harry's mouth and began tasting The Boy Who Lived.
  Harry was the first to break away, but only because he had to. A body
  required oxygen.
  Draco looked stunned. His silver eyes were wide with shock as his
  subconscious emotions flooded over him. It was too much for him to take. He
  backed away from Harry until his back hit the far wall by the door. Sliding
  down to the floor, he pulled his knees up to his chest and dropped his head
  in his hands. Harry stared at the other boy in similar shock. He was shocked
  yet again when he heard Malfoy sobbing. Reacting before thinking, he rushed
  over and sat beside Draco, putting his hand on the boy's quivering shoulder.
  Draco looked up at him then, tears streaming down his cheeks, and he scuttled
  a few feet away from Harry's hand. "Please, please don't touch me," he
  whispered, dropping his head back into his hands. He wasn't crying any
 longer, simply thinking. Harry gave him a few minutes to compose himself.
  When Malfoy lifted his head, it was so he could simply push it back against
  the wall. "That's all I need," he said quietly.
  "What?" asked Harry. He wasn't sure if Malfoy was talking to him, or just to
  himself.
  Malfoy answered, still staring straight ahead. He couldn't seem to look at
  Harry yet. "It's not like I have enough to worry about, Potter. I don't think
  I can deal with being queer, too." He rolled his head against the wall toward
  Harry as if his neck were too weak to support it. He looked at him then,
  silver eyes meeting green ones.
  "Are you? Qu-Gay, I mean?" Harry asked.
  Draco lifted his head and gave him a confused expression. "I . . . I think
  so."
  "Either you are, or you aren't. I thought you were seeing Pansy Parkinson."
  "And I thought you were dating Cho Chang," the Slytherin said.
  "Point well taken," said Harry. "The question is, do you feel for Pansy or
  not?"
  "Oh, I've felt a lot. But, emotionally, no," said Draco daring Harry to ask
  the question that he knew he wanted to ask.
  Harry complied with the dare. "So, you've slept with her?"
  "Yes. With her and most of the other seventh year girls and a few of the
  sixth," Draco admitted. There was no arrogance in his tone, however.
  "So, you're straight," said Harry logically, although it hurt him to do so.
  Draco gave a sarcastic laugh at this. "Sleeping with them doesn't make me
  straight, Potter."
  Harry gave him a strange expression. "Okay, now I'm confused. You're going to
  have to explain what you mean."
  Malfoy shot him a condescending look. "I slept with them, yes, but it's who I
  was thinking about when I did it-"
  "Who?"
  "Boris Becker," Draco admitted.
  Harry laughed. "The tennis player?" he asked and laughed again.
  "My mother took me to a couple of the Wimbledon matches two summers ago."
  Harry pictured the man Draco was referring to. "I'll have to warn Ron,
  Malfoy. I didn't know you had a thing for red-heads," he joked. Draco looked
  at Harry's jovial expression and since laughter was contagious, he laughed
  along with him.
  When their laughter subsided, Draco turned to the raven-haired boy next to
  him. "Potter, I've been an arse. I'll admit to it. When you kissed me that
  night, I was scared. Terrified, actually. I wasn't ready to admit all of that
  to myself."
  "And now?"
  "I guess it's too late to deny it now, isn't it?" Draco asked and licked his
  lower lip, tasting Harry there.
  "So, what do we do now?" asked Harry, his heart skipping a beat when Draco
  licked his lips again.
  Draco scooted over until his shoulder was touching Harry's. "I could kiss you
  again," he offered.
  Harry laughed. "But, I'm not Boris Becker."
  "You talk too much, Potter. Has anyone ever told you that?" Draco said and
  grabbed Harry by the back of the head, pulling his lips to his. This kiss was
  gentle and tentative. Harry brushed his fingertips through silver hair,
  marveling at its softness and texture. He deepened the kiss, silently
  pleading for more. When Draco pulled away, it was to kiss Harry gently on his
  forehead. "Wow, Potter, you're pretty good at this whole kissing thing. Do
  you know that?"
  Harry smiled, wondering if Malfoy knew how sexy he was with bruised lips and
  ruffled hair. "You're not too bad yourself, Malfoy," he said.
  Draco pulled himself to his feet and rested his palm against the wall for
  leverage. It was quite evident his knees were rather weak. He bent down,
  offering Harry his hand. Harry took it and Draco pulled him up to a standing
  position."
  "I guess we should go to bed," said Harry, not sure what else to say. Draco's
  eyebrows almost hit the top of his skull. "That's not what I meant," said
  Harry reddening instantly.
  Draco smiled. "You're kinda cute when you're embarrassed, Potter," he said
  and ruffled Harry's hair. "But, you're right." He looked out the window where
  the sun was starting to paint the sky in pinks. "Hey, it's morning," he said,
  surprised by how quickly the time had passed. "We better get to bed and try
  to get some sleep before everyone leaves tomorrow."
  The boys left the room and were about to part ways when Harry asked, "So,
  what was that fight all about, Malfoy?"
  Draco turned to him, meeting his eyes and said simply, "I was jealous." He
  then turned and walked in the opposite direction from Harry to the dungeon
  where the Slytherin dorms were.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 12 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 12 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 12: Contentment
  Harry awoke to Curmudgeon's scratchings at the window. Letting the old,
  cranky owl in, he tempted him with an owl treat before relieving him of his
  package. Last year he and Cho had decided to exchange gifts on Christmas Eve
  rather than the big event because the eve of the holiday was always so somber
  with everyone going home and all. He quickly untied the magically enhanced
  flashing bow and discarded the wrappings. He opened the lid of the box and
  pushed aside the plain, white tissue paper. Inside he found, of all things, a
  diary. He opened the diary with the golden key that was suspended from it by
  a silk ribbon. A piece of parchment fluttered to the floor. He picked it up
  and read Cho's slanted handwriting:
  Dear Harry,
  Happy Christmas, green eyes! By now you're probably wondering why I bought
  you such a girlie gift.
  Oh yes, I can read your mind, Harry James. To tell you the truth, this wasn't
  the gift I was going to send you. I was going to give you the newest book of
  Quidditch strategies. However, after seeing you last night, I thought of a
  more appropriate item, so, I went on a very late night shopping excursion in
  Hogsmeade. Never fear, though, the strategy book will be put to good use. I'm
  keeping it for myself!
  I should probably further explain myself. Throughout our strange little
  relationship we've always been honest to one another, Harry. Last night I
  sensed there was something you weren't telling me. I know you'll tell me when
  you believe the time is right, but it bothered me that you were holding
  something in that seemed to be tormenting you. I can read your face like a
  book; don't you know that? Anyway, until you're ready to confess the
  mysterious inner-workings of your mind, I want you to write. Yes, WRITE! Use
  this diary to cleanse your soul. I know I fancy myself a writer and all, but
  I do know from first- hand experience that writing can be very therapeutic.
  If it doesn't make you feel even the teeniest better, you have my permission
  to buy me a terribly dreadful gift next year. Maybe one of Gred and Forge's
  novelties, ha ha!
  All somberness aside, I miss you already, and I hope you have the happiest
  Christmas that is humanly possible.
  P.S. The key to the diary is charmed. If anyone other than you touches it, it
  will burn their hand.
  Kissing you under the mistletoe,
  Cho
  Harry put the diary back in the box and placed it in his trunk. Cho was
  right, at first he did feel like she had given him a girlie gift. However,
  after reading her reasons, he thought it might well be a useful tool indeed.
  He only wished he had the little diary sooner, maybe he would have been able
  to release some of the trepidation he had felt when he first realized he was
  crazy about Draco Malfoy.
  After a huge breakfast, in which Draco was mysteriously absent from the
  Slytherin table, Harry said his goodbyes to Ron and Hermione. Hermione was
  spending Christmas at the Weasley's that year because her parents were taking
  a much-needed sabbatical from all the snow. Although Hermione was invited on
  this tropical holiday, she had opted to stay with Ron, although she wouldn't
  admit it was because she couldn't bear to part with him for that length of
  time.
  When Ron and Hermione had departed, Harry decided to satisfy his curiosity
  about the missing Draco Malfoy. He went to the dungeons and knocked on the
  door of the Slytherin dorm. Blaise Zabini answered. Harry couldn't help but
  to laugh when he noticed what Zabini was wearing. His usual Hogwart's robes
  were cinched at the waist by a leather belt. Attached to the belt, above
  Zabini's pelvis, was a sprig of mistletoe. The holly berries magically
  blinked from red to green. The belt itself was emblazoned with the message:
  Kiss Me, I'm Irish.
  "Care for a kiss, Potter," he asked, jiggling his eyebrows up and down.
  "Sorry to disappoint you, Zabini, but that's not what I came for." Harry had
  always liked Blaise Zambini, the jolliest of the Slytherin house, even though
  Zabini had publicly congratulated Malfoy for breaking Ron's nose. He knew
  Blaise had nothing against Ron, he just appreciated a good fight. "Say,
  Zabini. Have you seen Malfoy around anywhere?"
 "What, did you two kiss and make up? I hope so. Malfoy's been a real prat
  since you two had your little tiff, or whatever that was." He winked and
  added , "Well, a bigger prat than usual, I should say. But, no I haven't seen
  him since early this morning. He said he wasn't hungry and was going to skip
  breakfast."
  "Thanks, Blaise." Harry turned to go down the hall, but felt the need to add,
  "By the way, Zabini, has that contraption worked yet?" he asked and pointed
  to the mistletoe.
  Zabini shook his head in feigned sorrow. "No, you would think one little kiss
  was too much to ask for, wouldn't you?" Harry laughed again and headed back
  to Gryffindor tower.
  When Harry reached the top of the stairs, he was surprised to see Draco
  talking quite amicably to the portrait of the fat lady. He had a gift under
  his arm and was using the other arm to gesture animatedly. When he heard
  Harry's footsteps, he turned around, a smile on his face.
  "Potter, where have you been?" he asked, giving him a spirited hug with his
  free arm.
  "Well, Malfoy. It's good to see you in a good mood."
  "Christmas spirit, Potter, Christmas spirit. Are you going to invite me in?"
  Harry nodded and gave the password, "Pride of the Lion." The portrait swung
  on its hinges and the two entered the scarlet and gold common room.
  "I have a gift for you, Potter, but you're not allowed to open it until
  Christmas," he said and placed the package under the evergreen in the middle
  of the room. He then helped himself to a seat on the sofa and gestured to
  Harry to sit next to him. Harry complied.
  "Where were you at breakfast? I went looking for you in the dungeon and
  almost had to kiss Zabini," said Harry, turning to the blonde.
  Draco laughed. "Don't tell me Zabini's trying his old mistletoe trick again.
  Last year he chased Margot Fletcher through the dorm for a half an hour
  trying to get her to pucker up." The boys shared a laugh. "I skipped
  breakfast to go to Hogsmeade to buy your Christmas present, Potter."
  "You didn't have to."
  "Yes, I did," said Draco simply. "So, Potter, what is all this?" Draco asked
  gesturing toward himself and Harry.
  "Us?" Draco nodded. "I don't know, Malfoy. What do you want it to be?"
  Draco looked as if he were weighing his emotions. "Well, we tried the
  friendship thing and that didn't work, did it?"
  "No, " admitted Harry, guessing what Draco was getting at.
  "No, it didn't. But, if I were to refer to you as my boyfriend, would you get
  mad?" Draco asked nervously.
  "I wouldn't," said Harry, his eyes lighting up to a shocking shade of emerald
  green.
  "In that case . . ." said Draco, and pulled Harry toward his lips. Draco
  kissed by the book, that was for certain. Harry felt himself drown under the
  pressure of Draco's lips. When Draco broke away, it was to plant soft,
  smoldering kisses down Harry's neck. Hearing Harry sigh, he moved up to his
  ear. He lightly licked the back of Harry's earlobe and then nibbled. Harry
  was lost. At that moment his world was the sensations Draco was creating with
  his lips, tongue, and teeth. When Draco pulled away, he heard himself groan
  with disappointment.
  "Get up, Potter," commanded Draco softly. When Harry got up, Draco stretched
  himself on his side against the back of the couch.
  "What are you doing?"
  "I didn't get much sleep last night after snogging you, and I got up early to
  go to Hogsmeade, so I'm going to take a nap," was his reply.
  "Oh," said Harry slightly abashed.
  "Come here, Potter," said Draco, holding his arms out. Harry lay down, his
  back against Draco's chest. Draco rested his chin on Harry's shouldered and
  circled him with his arms.
  "This is nice," said Harry, snuggling back against the sexy Slytherin. Draco
  let out a huge sigh. "What's wrong?" asked Harry, concerned.
  Draco replied, his breath tickling Harry's ear. "Times like these, I almost
  wish I was wearing Zabini's mistletoe," he said in mock seriousness. "Hey,
  I'm not going to get any slack for being here, am I?" he asked, suddenly
  concerned.
  "Naw, the only Gryffindor staying here over the hols is me, and I'm not
  complaining," said Harry. Draco let out a tiny sigh of relief. Harry closed
  his eyes, savoring the feel of Draco's warm embrace. Within minutes, the two
  boys were sleeping peacefully.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 13 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 13 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 13: Symbols
  Draco awoke with his arms still encircling Harry. Sometime during their nap,
  his legs had wrapped around him too. He released the Gryffindor then and
  leaned up on his elbow to look at the sleeping boy next to him. Harry looked
  extremely peaceful and young when he was asleep. Truth be told, that was the
  first time Draco had had any decent rest since the day Harry had kissed him
  for the first time. He reached over with his free hand and tenderly brushed a
  lock of Harry's hair off of his forehead.
  Since the night Harry had kissed him, Draco hadn't had a chance to actually
  think about the situation. He only felt. Now, he pandered through his
  thoughts with ease. He thought about all the times he had annoyed Harry
  whenever possible. Had he had feelings for him then? Yea, probably. So, what
  was with all of the physical and verbal assaults they had inflicted on one
  another? His brain took little time to contemplate this question before it
  answered: foreplay. Draco mentally giggled at this realization. If there was
  a fine line between love and hate, he had been walking that line like a
  tightrope for the last six and a half years. Draco Malfoy's emotions ran to
  extremes. When he was happy, he was ecstatic. When he was mad, he was irate.
  When he loved, he did so with every fiber of his being and beating of his
  heart. He was in love with Harry Potter, his former enemy, and there was no
  way he was ever going to let go.
  At about that time Harry decided to awake. Blinking sleepy green eyes, he
  looked up into Draco's face, catching the Slytherin's expression. "What are
  you thinking?"
  "Just how crazy I am about you," replied Draco silkily. He then craned his
  neck to kiss Harry lightly on the cheek. Just then his stomach rumbled so
  fiercely Harry could feel it against his back. "Hungry," said Draco. "I
  missed both lunch and breakfast and now it's dinnertime."
  "We better go then," said Harry, but he did not move from his position.
  Instead, he reached up and trailed his fingertips through Draco's silvery
  hair. "You are so beautiful," he said and pulled Draco down to him in a
  crushing embrace. They kissed rather passionately until Draco's stomach
  rumbled again, making its demands clear. Harry sighed heavily and slid out
  from under Draco's tempting form. "We'll just have to continue from there
  later," he said, holding his hand out to pull Draco up from the couch.
  "Can't I open it now?" asked Harry, shaking the heavy silver and green
  package. Draco smiled at Harry's childish antics. "I thought I told you, you
  have to wait until Christmas, Potter?" he asked in a teasing tone that Harry
  would have never attributed to Draco Malfoy a year ago. "But, it's 11:45,"
  whined Harry.
  Draco gave an exasperated sigh. "Oh, alright." He couldn't help but to grin
  when he saw the Gryffindor's eyes light up when he began attacking the
  package with unmasked glee. Harry unwrapped the package and stared inside. He
  couldn't quite believe his eyes. After a few seconds of shock, he began
  laughing hysterically. Draco had given him a box of rocks! "Great gift,
  Malfoy. I guess this is your way of reeking revenge on me for the little
  wager prank I played?" Draco gave into his own laughter then. It was hard to
  keep it restrained while Harry had been so excited about receiving the gift.
  "Yea, actually it is. But, Harry, I really did get you a gift." He rummaged
 in the pockets of his robes and pulled out a small package, pushing it toward
  Harry on an outstretched palm. Harry plucked the package from Draco and
  opened the scarlet, velvet box. Inside were two identical, silver necklaces.
  They gleamed in the light of the Christmas tree, sending off sparks in all
  directions. The necklaces were in the shape of two hands holding a heart,
  which was crowned. "What is this?" asked Harry, tracing the emblem of one of
  the necklaces with his forefinger. "It's a Claudaugh," answered Draco. "It's
  a Celtic emblem. It symbolizes everlasting friendship and loyalty." Draco
  mentally shook himself from expressing the "love" that the symbol also
  represented. "The necklaces have been charmed. I wear one; you wear the
  other. If ever one of us is in danger, the other will know."
  "So, if something happened to me, you would try to protect me?" asked Harry
  in a breath.
  Draco looked at him for almost a full minute before replying. "I would never
  let something happen to you, Potter." he replied, and pulled Harry in for a
  kiss. Time was irrelevant when Draco and Harry kissed. When their lips
  touched, they created their own world. a world free from harsh realities.
  Their world did not consist of the right side and the wrong side, the black
  and the white, as they had been forced to choose between. Their world
  consisted only of one another.
  When they paused for air, Harry blinked up into Malfoy's gaze. "Oh, now it's
  your turn for a gift." He went to the tree, pulled a package out and extended
  it to Draco.
  Draco was astonished. This wasn't something he expected. "When did you manage
  to get me a gift?"
  Harry looked rather smug. "Oh, I picked something up a while ago when we were
  getting along. I've held on to it for quite a while."
  "Oh," said Draco. He reached for the package and unwrapped it. He uncovered a
  book. Flipping it over to the front, he realized it was the Bible. He shot
  Harry a questioning glance.
  Harry shrugged. "I noticed that you checked it out quite a bit from the
  library. I guessed that you was interested since it's not on our reading list
  for Muggle Studies until April."
  Draco was touched that Harry could recall such an inconsequential thing. He
  had wanted a copy of the Muggle text, although he wouldn't have bought it in
  case someone would have noticed. For some reason he found the Muggle
  mythology fascinating. "I think this is the best gift I've ever received," he
  told Harry, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Especially since you
  noticed my interest." He pulled Harry in for another kiss. Gods, he was
  obsessed with kissing the raven-haired, green-eyed Gryffindor who was
  standing in front of him, a look of happiness etched upon his handsome face.
  Harry pulled the twin necklaces from the velvet box and placed one around his
  neck. He pulled Draco toward him by the nape of his neck and placed the other
  around his neck. He then kissed the silvery blonde hair at the crown of
  Draco's head. "Have you caught the time? It's Christmas."
  Draco looked at the Gryffindor wall clock. Indeed, the largest hand was
  pointed at "Presents". "Happy Christmas, my green-eyed Gryffindor," he told
  Harry.
  "Happy Christmas, my sexy Slytherin, " said Harry with a grin.
  "Say, what did you get Cho for Christmas, Potter?" asked Draco, a look of
  unhidden jealousy in his eyes.
  Harry couldn't help but to feel smug at the emotion he read in Draco's eyes.
  "Oh, I got her a book of Quidditch strategies. A bad gift really, because I
  think she already has one."
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 14 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 14 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 14: Questions
  Just like all holidays, the winter one ended way too quickly. Before Harry
  knew it, he was back in classes yet again. He and Draco had decided to keep
  their relationship a secret. After all, even if wizards were more open-minded
  about things than Muggles, there were still some things that raised eyebrows.
  Not only that, Harry wasn't quite ready to let his friends in on his sexual
  orientation. And, with Malfoy's precarious standing with the Slytherins, they
  didn't need to rock the proverbial boat. So, Harry and Draco had to be
  satisfied with a platonic relationship in front of Hogwart's society and a
  few quick, but meaningful, snogs in hidden classrooms and closets.
  Harry had one of these snog sessions in mind when he walked toward the steps
  leading down to the main floor looking for Draco. He couldn't help but to
  feel an instantaneous jolt of de ja vu when a pair of hands grabbed him and
  pulled him into the same classroom he and Draco had shared their first
  consensual kiss. He spun around with an unchecked grin on his face. "It's
  about time, love, I though I'd go crazy if I had to wait another day."
  Unfortunately though, his eyes did not meet stormy gray eyes, but chocolate
  brown ones. Hermione. "Erm, Herm. What do you want?" he asked, a blush
  spreading from his cheekbones to the nape of his neck.
  "Well, since you mentioned it, I'd like to know who this `love' is that you
  seemed so happy to meet. And furthermore, why it needs to be such a secret,"
  said Hermione. Harry could tell she was angry. Her voice only reached that
  pitch when she was angry. He was glad they were in an empty classroom because
  if there had been glass around, it would have probably exploded in a million
  pieces. She looked at him, staring him down, with her hands on her hips.
  Despite her 5'2" frame, she seemed seven feet tall in formidability.
  Harry was speechless. His mind went into overdrive as he tried to think of a
  lie, any lie. But, Harry wasn't a liar, so he said nothing. He glanced toward
  the doorway wondering if he could make a run for it, but glancing back at
  Hermione, he realized she was mad enough to hex him before he reached the
  threshold.
  Hermione rolled her eyes at him as if she knew what he was thinking. Instead
  of hexing him, however, she gathered her robes and sat on the floor. She
  patted the flagstones beside her, and he sat down, not meeting her eyes.
  "Harry, it's time we had a little talk."
  "About what?" Harry asked and then chided himself for asking such a stupid
  question.
  Hermione only rolled her eyes again. "You know, Harry, you may think you're
  sly, but I know you well enough now that I can pretty much tell whatever's
  going on with you."
  "You do?"
  "Well, most of the time. When I don't, all I need to do is try to put
  together the pieces of the puzzle and then talk to you to see if I'm right.
  Anyway, I want to let you know that no matter what you tell me, I will never
  think any less of you. I love you Harry, you're like family to me." She
  paused a minute to catch her breath before she went on. "Since we're family
  and all, if you want to tell me you're gay, you can."
  "What?" Harry was astounded. All this time, he had tried his best to not come
  off gay in front of Hermione, and it would seem that she knew all along. What
  should he do? Should he deny it? Hermione must have realized he needed a few
  minutes to think about what she said because the silence stretched
  uncomfortably for quite some time. Finally, Harry lay back on his elbows and
  muttered, "So, what if I am?"
  "I take it, that means yes?" she asked, lying back in the same position Harry
  had just taken. This way she could see his face as he spoke.
  "Yea," he muttered. The blush he was wearing throughout the discussion had
  deepened to a shade that was almost as dark as Gryffindor crimson. He then
  sat up, his eyes wide, and looked down at her. "You didn't mention any of
  this to Ron, did you?"
  Hermione looked up at him, her face turning its own bright shade. "Um, well.
  I guess I might have mentioned something before hols, but he didn't believe
  me."
  "Fuck!"
  She sat up and laid a consoling hand on his shoulder. "I said he didn't
  believe me, Harry. I'm sure your date with Cho made it seem even more
  ludicrous."
  "Oh."
  "So, you don't want him to know?" she asked, searching his expression.
  "No, Herm. Not yet," he answered, remembering how Ron had reacted when Harry
  had caught him stalking through the common room nude. He shook his head
  vehemently. "Definitely not yet!"
  Hermione did something surprising then. She said, "Fine."
  Harry turned to her with shock. "You mean, you won't say anything?"
  "No, Harry. It's not my secret to tell. Just promise me that you'll tell him
  before the end of the year."
  "Alright."
  Hermione looked at him, a question in her eyes. She wondered if she should
  ask it. She knew Harry had just made a really big confession, and she wasn't
  sure if he was ready for another. However, Hermione wasn't one for beating
  around the bush, so she asked anyway. "So, I take it this mysterious `love'
  is Malfoy?"
  She didn't think Harry's eyes could get any wider, but they did. She even
  wondered if she would have to take him to Madame Pompfrey when they popped
  out of his head onto the floor. "How. . . how did you know?" he asked and
  swallowed. Thankfully, he closed his eyes as if wondering if he were dreaming
  the whole conversation. Hermione was glad because the pop-eyed expression was
  quite unsettling.
  "I didn't. I mean, I wasn't sure. But, now I am." She said. Harry collapsed
  to the floor, his head in his hands. She sat down next to him and put her
  arms around him. "Harry, it's okay."
  He looked up at her and unknowingly leaned into her embrace. He needed some
  comfort when it came to his situation. He had never been able to talk about
  it with anyone other than Draco, and since their relationship was under
  wraps, he had had very little chance to talk to him about it. He leaned his
  head on Hermione's shoulder, thankful for the support she was giving him. "Is
  it okay, Hermione? He was my enemy. He was your enemy. I don't know how it
  happened, I really don't. All I know is that it feels . . ." He pulled away
  from her, searching for the word.
  "It feels what, Harry?"
  He finally met her eyes. "It feels . . . right."
  "Well, maybe it is."
  "You aren't angry with me?"
  Hermione chuckled. "No, Harry, I'm not angry with you. To tell you the truth,
  the Malfoy I've come to know this year seems like a completely different
 person from the Malfoy I knew for six years." She quirked her head at him and
  raised her eyebrow. "You don't think he's an imposter, do you? Like in
  Invasion of the Body Snatchers?" She laughed at her own joke.
  Harry joined her. It felt good to laugh about the situation. "No, I don't
  think so. Malfoy went through a lot over the summer. Well, throughout his
  entire life, I guess."
  "Has he talked to you about it?"
  Harry shook his head sadly. "No. Only snatches here and there. I think
  whatever happened must be too painful for him to mention just yet."
  "Well, then," said Hermione, standing up, "I would say, just be there for him
  Harry, he'll tell you when he's ready. Just like you'll tell Ron about him
  when you're ready. By the way Harry, did you see what time it is?" she asked,
  glancing down at her watch. You're late for your study session. I'll bet
  Malfoy's waiting for you." She had to laugh to herself when Harry bolted to
  his feet and ran from the room.
  A second later, he poked his head through the doorway. "Hey, Herm?"
  "Yes, Harry?"
  "Thanks," he said and then dashed off at breakneck speed.
  Harry was over ten minutes late when he ran into the library and sat across
  from Draco. Draco looked up from the book he was reading and gave him a cross
  look. "You're late, " he said simply, his eyes rather frosty like the surface
  of a lake when frozen over in the winter.
  "Sorry," said Harry, "Hermione caught me about an hour ago wanting to talk."
  Draco didn't ask any questions. He placed a green and silver bookmark between
  the pages he was reading and shut the book. It was the book Harry had given
  him for Christmas, its pages rather dog-eared from frequent reading.
  "What do you find so interesting with that book?" he asked Draco. He had
  wanted to ask that question for quite some time. Of all people, Draco Malfoy
  seemed the least likely person to find religion. Especially a Muggle
  religion.
  "I don't know," said Draco truthfully. "It's just interesting what people put
  their faith in," he said and shrugged. He quite honestly wasn't sure why the
  book interested him so much. It just did. "Besides, it's on our reading
  list," he added logically.
  "Yea, but not until April. You're three months ahead of schedule."
  "I don't know, Potter. It's just . . . fascinating. I mean, these people,
  Muggles, place their undivided loyalty with a being that doesn't seem to care
  that they exist."
  "You mean, God? He's supposed to be the creator of everything. Well, to
  Muggles, I mean," said Harry, clearly confused.
  Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was difficult explaining what he had
  been thinking. "Have you read it?"
  "Parts of it," admitted Harry. "Aunt Petunia made me go to church a few
  times, during holidays mostly."
  "Well, then you have some idea. This God these Muggles are so fond of, he
  doesn't seem the sort to deserve such loyalty." He looked at Harry who was
  raising his eyebrows. Clearly, he needed to further explain himself. "I mean,
  he throws Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden for eating an Apple, of all
  things. Then, he destroys almost everything on earth with a huge flood, but
  he lets one man and his family live? I mean, weren't there others that
  deserved to live as well?" Draco was talking to himself now, wondering aloud.
  Harry listened to Draco's ramblings, rather interested in what he had to say.
  "He wages a war on a city with sulfur and brimstone, then there's Job. Job
  was the most loyal of all, but what did this God do? He let Satan kill his
  wife and children, destroy his crops.. . then, after it was all over and he
  proved himself loyal, he gave him a new wife and children. Did he think that
  would make up for losing the ones he loved? And Abraham and Isaac. . . I
  don't even want to get into that," Draco said, a shiver pulsating through his
  body.
  Harry looked at Draco with sympathy. The Slytherin's obsession with the book
  was quite clear to him, but it was apparent that Draco either didn't see it
  or was refusing to see it. He reached out and covered Draco's hand with his.
  "Draco, I think you're confusing God with Voldemort." Draco's head snapped up
  and his wide eyes clashed with Harry's. "Don't you see? Voldemort does all of
  these terrible things, but yet he still has followers. Your father being one
  of them. You were meant to be one of them, but you rightfully refused."
  Draco swallowed and continued to look at Harry. His gray eyes had lost their
  iciness. He digested the information Harry had just given him. "I think
  you're right, Potter," he said finally. "All the time I've been reading this
  book, I have been comparing it to Voldemort, to my father. But still, don't
  you think the similarity is uncanny?"
  Harry sighed. Draco knew nothing about Muggles. He may never understand their
  way of thinking, or their way of believing. "Not really, Draco. In the Bible
  God did all of those things, yes. He banished Adam and Eve, but it was
  because they did something wrong, something he warned them not to do. Not
  only that, they had believed Satan in snake form, note the similarity to
  Voldemort, over their creator. He flooded the earth to repopulate it again
  with descendants he believed to be good. He made a mistake, yes, but he
  admitted to the mistake afterward and made a promise never to do it again.
  When he destroyed Sodom, it was because the people there were behaving evilly
  and they wouldn't repent their ways. I could go on, but the simple matter is,
  the Bible gives the Muggle something to believe in, something good. They know
  someone is looking out for them and that if they are led astray they will be
  shown the light. Besides, it seems as if you've almost ignored the New
  Testament. The God in that is a rather forgiving God, not so vengeful. People
  have to have something to believe in. There are a lot of faiths out there.
  Probably not a one of them have gotten it right, but at least people believe
  in something. Something they would die for if it came right down to it. Is
  there anything you would die for, Draco?"
  Draco mused to himself for a few seconds before simply saying, "You Harry, I
  would die for you."
  To say Harry was shocked would be an understatement. "You would?"
  "Yes, I would. What about you, if you had to, would you give your life for
  me?" Draco asked. He awaited Harry's answer with trepidation because he had
  all but said exactly how he felt about the raven-haired Gryffindor for the
  first time.
  Harry looked Draco and thought about what he had just asked him. He was
  astonished when the answer came to him without complication. "Yes. Yes,
  Draco, I would." He said. Draco pulled his hand out from under his and placed
  it in the top position, giving Harry's hand a squeeze. His eyes, which were
  expressive only around Harry, spoke volumes that neither one were ready to
  discuss. He simply nodded to Harry, accepting his answer without argument.
  Halfway through the eleventh chapter of their Muggle Studies text, Draco
  looked up at Harry. "You know, you called me Draco, when we were talking
  earlier."
  Harry smiled and met the other boy's gaze. He didn't realize Draco had
  realized his slip of the tongue during the philosophical discussion they had
  had earlier. "Yes, I did. That's how I think of you. Is that okay?"
  Draco's face lit up when he smiled. "Of course it is, Harry."
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 15 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 15 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 15: Boiling Point
  Draco Malfoy was in a bad mood. No, he wasn't in a bad mood; he was in a bad
  mood yesterday and the day before that, and for the whole week for all that
  it mattered. But, today he was boiling. He felt like one of the cauldrons in
  Snape's class, Neville Longbottom's cauldron, the one that always seemed to
  boil over and explode. It didn't help that he had slept in and was now late
  for Potions. He was never late for Potions, damn it. He exited his private
  room and crossed the Slytherin common room. Unfortunately for them, two other
  Slytherins were also late. Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson were seated in
  front of the fireplace chatting it up. Since he felt the need to yell at
  somebody, anybody, they would do. After all, old habits die hard. "What the
  hell are you two doing in here? Did you look and see what time it is? You're
  both five minutes late for Potions!" he yelled, flashing an icy stare from
  one to the other.
  "You're late, too," pointed out Pansy quite logically.
  "Damn right I'm late. I'm Head Boy, I can be late whenever I wish, but as for
  you two, you have no excuse," Draco growled. "Now, get to class. NOW!" he
  yelled. He then crossed the room slamming the door. Blaise and Pansy heard
  several more thumps after he departed. Obviously slamming it wasn't enough,
  it now sounded as if he was kicking it with all his might.
  "What was that tantrum about?" Blaise asked Pansy, obviously in no hurry to
  get to class. Pansy only shrugged. They were used to Malfoy's moods by now,
  but they usually knew what they were about. This one didn't seem
  premeditated.
  When Draco entered the Potions classroom, all eyes were on him. He stalked
  over to his seat beside Harry and sat down. He knew his Uncle Severus
  wouldn't punish him for being late, not just because he was his nephew and a
  Slytherin, but also because his Head Boy status gave him certain privileges.
  Still, Draco was late, and he hated being late. Not only that, he realized
  quickly, he was unprepared. Reaching for his quill and parchment to take
  notes, he realized there was no quill or parchment. He forgot to bring them
  with him. Fuck! Harry nudged his arm with his elbow. "Here," he said, pushing
  over a roll of parchment and his extra quill. "We'll have to share my ink,
  though."
  "Mr. Potter, are you quite finished with your little conversation?" Professor
  Snape boomed suddenly from the front of the room.
  "Yes, sir," mumbled Harry. It wasn't out of the ordinary for Draco to get him
  into trouble in this class.
  "Good, then maybe you can tell me what the third ingredient for this potion
  is?"
  "No, sir."
  "Ten points from Gryffindor for Potter's lack of hearing," said Snape with a
  smirk.
  When they were finished taking notes, they paired off for the lab assignment.
  They were working on a sleeping draught that would promote good dreams. Harry
  collected all the ingredients for the potion, and he and Draco began cutting,
  slicing, and squashing them, adding them to the cauldron when they were
  ready. They worked in silence. Once in a while, Harry would look at Draco's
  sullen expression and shiver. He decided not to speak; he knew what the
  receiving end of one of those expressions could be like all too well. When
  the cauldron began to boil, Harry began stirring it clockwise.
  "You're supposed to stir it counterclockwise, Potter," Draco said, the
  sarcasm in his voice slicing through the silence.
  "No, it's clockwise," said Harry, continuing his stirring.
  "Damn it, Potter. Since when have you been an expert at Potions? I get the
  better marks, so when I say counterclockwise, you do as I say!"
  "Well, Malfoy, being as how you were late for class, you missed the stirring
  method, so sod off," said Harry quite exasperated with Draco's foul mood.
  Draco had been short with him all week, and it was beginning to wear on his
  nerves.
  "You didn't even know what the ingredients were when he asked you, you git.
  Give that to me, " said Draco, trying to yank the long handled wooden spoon
  out of Harry's hand. Harry flung his arm back and his elbow hit the cauldron,
  knocking it off its stand. It pitched over, and the contents, hitting the
  cold floor, splattered about ten feet in all directions. Everyone within that
  distance was covered in bright yellow goo, including Draco and Harry. Draco
  rounded on Harry, about ready to start another verbal attack when Snape
  grabbed both of them by their robes and yanked them out of the room.
  "What the hell was that all about?" he asked once they were in the hallway.
  Draco was the first to speak. "Harry was stirring the potion all wrong. He
  was stirring it clockwise."
  Harry started to reply when Professor Snape cut in. "It's supposed to be
  stirred clockwise, Malfoy. If you had gotten to class on time, you would have
  known that," he said, looking down his long nose in disapproval. Harry
  couldn't help but to feel a little smug. Not only had Snape acknowledged that
  he was right, but he was yelling at his own nephew for the first time he
  could remember.
  "Now, I don't know what you two are arguing about, but I expect you to keep
  your little lover's quarrels out of my classroom!" the Professor said. "And,
  furthermore, you will both stay after class to clean up your mess, and while
  you're at it, you can reorganize the shelves in the storeroom. You will stay
 here until class is dismissed, then you can get to work," he commanded,
  leaving the boys alone in the empty corridor.
  Once Snape was gone, Harry turned to Draco. "What was that `lover's quarrel'
  business, did you tell him about us?" asked Harry of the sulking Slytherin.
  Draco shrugged, " I may have," he admitted, not meeting Harry's eyes.
  "But, why would you tell him?"
  "He's my uncle, and I trust him."
  Harry wasn't sure rather to be upset or delighted. He wasn't sure if he
  wanted his least favorite teacher to know he was dating his nephew or not.
  But, it was rather nice to know that Draco had thought enough of their
  relationship to tell the only family member he could tell. Since he was
  undecided, he decided not to make an issue of it either way. At least he knew
  Snape could keep a secret.
  It took them about an hour to scrape the goo off of the Potions room floor,
  and they were now working on putting the storeroom in order. It was quite a
  job since students were allowed to get their own ingredients. Everything had
  to be realphabetized and placed in orderly rows on the shelves.
  "Well, at least we didn't get detention," Harry said, looking at Draco, who
  was busy dusting a shelf. Draco didn't answer him. This was the fourth time
  Harry had tried to speak to him, and he was tired of talking to himself. He
  stalked over to the Slytherin and pulled the feather duster out of his hand,
  and began shaking it at him as he spoke. "Alright, I'm about sick and tired
  of this mood, Malfoy. Either you're going to tell me what's up your arse, or
  I'm going to beat it out of you!"
  "Really," drawled Malfoy in reply, "Are you going to do it with that feather
  duster, Potter, because I don't know if I'm that kinky."
  Harry saw red. He threw the duster down and pushed Draco up against the
  shelves with the heel of his hand. Draco wasn't the only one who could get
  inhumanly strong when he was angry. "You know, Malfoy, you could at least
  have enough guts to tell me that you don't want to see me anymore," he hissed
  in Draco's face. Draco could feel the exhalation of air on his neck, and all
  the tiny hairs on his body raised to attention.
  "Whatever gave you that idea?" he asked once he stopped shivering.
  Harry let go of him. "Christ, Draco. You've barely spoken to me all week, and
  when you do it's to say the nastiest thing you can think of. What am I
  supposed to think?"
  "I don't pledge to die for someone on a whim, Potter."
  "Then, will you please tell me what's wrong so I can try to fix it?" asked
  Harry, not liking the pleading sound in his voice.
  "You don't want to know."
  "Tell me."
  "No."
  "Damn it, Draco. Tell me what's wrong!"
  Draco grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled Harry's hand down so it was cupping
  his crotch. Harry's eyes widened at what he felt pulsating there. His eyes
  flashed up at Draco who was a little red in the face. "You wanted to know.
  I'm fucking horny, Potter, and it's just about killing me."
  Harry pulled his hand away from Draco's erection. He could feel a blush
  radiating from his face, giving off heat to an otherwise chilly room. "You
  could have told me that," he whispered.
  "Why, so I could have seen you blush sooner?" Draco smirked. He had been in a
  bad mood for a long time. "So, do you really want to fix it, Harry? Because
  the only way I can see about fixing it is my shagging you right here on the
  storeroom floor." His voice switched from angry to tender when he saw Harry
  blush even more "Shit. I'm sorry, Harry. I tried to stay away from you
  because I knew you weren't ready for this."
  Harry watched as Draco's expression changed. He always loved it when Draco
  looked at him like this because he knew he was the only one Draco had ever
  looked at in that tender way. The only thing Draco didn't know was that Harry
  had been similarly frustrated for quite some time. He was just better about
  controlling his emotions than Draco. Draco always went to extremes, that was
  one of the things Harry not only liked, but also despised about him. "We
  could, you know," he said softly.
  "Could what?" Draco asked.
  "We could, you know."
  Draco clenched his teeth. His anger was starting to simmer again. Sometimes
  Harry's innocence and naivety irked him. Especially now, considering the
  state he was in. "You can't even say it. You're not ready."
  "No, I am. Just not here in the dungeon. How about tonight, we could meet in
  our classroom. How does eleven o'clock sound?"
  Draco stared at Harry dumbfounded. First of all, Harry had insulted him by
  agreeing to a pity shag, now he was actually scheduling it. "Right, Potter.
  I'll tell you what, why don't you just make up a calendar. You can draw
  little fireworks in on the dates you want to screw!" he yelled and stalked
  from the room.
  Harry stared after him. "Shit, Fuck, Damn, Hell!" he yelled, staring at the
  spot Draco had just hurriedly vacated. He had just put his foot in his mouth
  and swallowed it. Things were never easy with Draco. It seemed as if he
  always knew what to say, but when he said it, it came out twisted and
  backward. He didn't mean for Draco to think he wanted him out of pity.
  Actually, he wanted to explain that he did want to move their relationship up
  a notch, but now Draco had other ideas. Harry thought over the situation for
  a few minutes. If Draco wanted romance and spontaneity, he could give him
  that, he decided. And, with that in mind, he began finishing the work Draco
  had left him with.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 16 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 16 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 16: Propositions
  Draco had managed to simmer down after his fight with Harry. His nightly
  rounds, a duty as Head Boy, had given him quite a bit of time to think. By
  the time he had adjourned to his room that night, he felt he had a lot of
  things put into perspective. It seemed to him the problem was his and Harry's
  relationship just wasn't normal. Perhaps that was the wrong word, it
  definitely wasn't normal by society's standards, but by normal he meant that
  while it felt right, it simply wasn't what a relationship should be. He had
  been observing several of Hogwart's most notable couples that evening,
  breaking up a few snog sessions in the astronomy tower as well, and he had
  noted the kisses goodnight, the handholding, the gentle whispers in each
  other's ears. That's what he wanted.
  Because of the taboo quality of their relationship, he and Harry could do
  none of that. All right, they were gay. That would be frowned upon at first,
  but accepted later. What was taboo were the following facts: He was a
  Slytherin and Harry was a Gryffindor. He was the son of a Death Eater, and
  Harry was The Boy Who Lived. He was Draco Malfoy, and he was in love with
  Harry Potter. Because of these things, he couldn't walk Harry to his dorm
  every night, nor could they hold hands on the way to class, or kiss in the
  corridors. This all seemed to intensify the desire Draco had for Harry. It
  was hard to carry on a relationship at a distance, and it was doubly hard to
  keep one's self in check when he did have some time alone with his desire.
  However, as difficult as the relationship was, he wouldn't give it up for the
  world.
  His thoughts were rudely interrupted when he heard a knock at the door.
  Running his hands through his hair, he hastily tried to fix any damage he had
  done when rifling through it with his fingers during his deep thinking. When
  he felt presentable, he opened the door. Standing before him was a very
  scantily clad Pansy Parkinson. He ran his eyes down the length of Pansy. She
  was wearing a very short, red silk negligee that barely hid the fact that
  that was all she was wearing, other than a very smug grin.
  "What do you want, Parkinson? You know better than to walk around the dorm
  like that," he said, giving her a blank stare.
  Pansy only smiled and ran her hand down Draco's arm, which was propping him
  up in a nonchalant position in the doorframe. She traced his arm from his
  fingertips, up to the curve of his elbow to his shoulder. She then began
  sliding her way up to his neck before he raised himself to a rigid stature
  and pushed her exploring hand away. "Don't, Parkinson," was all he said.
  "What's the matter, Draco? You don't want to play?" she asked, giving him
  what she seemed to think was her sexiest pout.
  "Not really," he said. Pansy's well-practiced theatrics had had absolutely no
  effect on him.
  "Are you sure, Malfoy? We haven't played in a very long time," she cooed, "In
  fact, since last year, if I'm not mistaken."
  He put on his most evil Malfoy glare. "Pansy, I'm not interested, so please
  go away," he said in an icy tone.
  She was getting angry. He could tell because the nostrils of her pug nose
  were all but flaring, and a blush was beginning to stain her cheeks and
  throat. Any other time, he would have gladly shagged Pansy. Theirs had always
  been a no-strings-attached relationship, and he never had to feel guilty
  about kicking her out of bed afterward. Obviously she wasn't used to
  rejection however, and for that, Draco knew he would have to pay sooner or
  later.
  "You know, you really are a loser, Malfoy. Everything everyone says about you
  is true. You're too cowardly to accept the Dark Mark, and I'm ashamed by the
  fact that you're the head of Slytherin!" she spat, and turned on her heel and
  walked away. Draco didn't look after her. He shut the door and sat down on
  his bed. He knew Pansy would get over it. In fact, he wouldn't doubt it that
  Pansy would probably soon be knocking on the door of one of the other seventh
  year boys. He dropped his elbows to his knees and placed his forehead in his
  palms. He was actually being . . . monogamous. So unlike a Malfoy. And, it
  was all because of Harry Potter. The only person he wanted was Harry, and he
  couldn't have him.
  He was just beginning to feel sorry for himself again when there was another
  knock at the door. "Shit, not again, " he said and flung the door open. "I
  thought I told you I wasn't interested, Parkinson?" he said to thin air.
  Draco looked left and right, seeing no one. He was about to chalk it all up
  to a joke and shut the door when he felt something brush past him into his
  room. Turning around, he saw Harry's head emerge, then his shoulders, and
  then finally the rest of his body when he let his invisibility cloak drop to
  the floor. Draco looked uneasily over his shoulder into the corridor, and
  seeing no one, he shut the door.
  "Nice Pyjamas," Harry said, taking in the emerald silk pyjama bottoms Draco
  was wearing. If he had to describe Draco at the moment, he would have to say
 Draco was breathtaking. The pyjama pants clung to every curve of his calves
  and thighs. He raised his eyes upward, taking in the very bare chest of Draco
  Malfoy. Draco was built like a Greek statue, all alabaster and hardness. He
  had a narrow waist and broad shoulders. The muscles underneath his pale skin,
  while not monstrous, were well shaped and defined.
  "Who did you think I was when I knocked?"
  Draco shrugged. "Pansy Parkinson. What can I say, she's hot after my body."
  "I don't blame her," said Harry, his eyes sweeping Draco's chest. The green
  in his eyes was not from pigment alone, other things were attributing, like
  overwhelming passion and the jealousy of a female Slytherin who had been
  trying to plant her flag on Malfoy for several years.
  "Now that you're done ogling me, do you want to tell me what you're doing
  here?" Draco asked and sat back down on his bed. He couldn't help but to feel
  a little smug at the appreciation and jealousy he had seen in Harry's gaze.
  Harry sat down beside him, making an effort to keep some distance between
  them. "I just wanted to talk about what happened earlier . . . I . . ."
  "Christ Harry, I'm sorry," said Draco interrupting him. "I was way out of
  line. I really didn't mean to embarrass you."
  Harry had been expecting anything but an apology, so it took him a while to
  reply. "Draco, I really didn't mean what I said. Sometimes I try to say
  things and they come out all wrong, especially with you. I never meant to
  make you feel that way; I really didn't. The truth is, I've been really
  frustrated myself."
  Draco's eyes widened. "Really?"
  "Yes."
  "You know, Harry, I don't have as much restraint as you do. I'm a master at
  disguising my feelings, but my disguise is usually something equally as
  strong as what I'm trying to hide."
  "I know that by now, Draco," Harry said softly. "You react with anger. I've
  known that since first year. It's just that when you're angry with me now, I
  don't always remember that."
  Draco nodded at Harry's psychoanalysis of him. "I'm sorry, Harry. I should
  have let you explain yourself instead of storming away like a child. It's
  just that sometimes it seems like we're so close, but so far away. Do you
  know what I mean?"
  "You mean because we have to hide what we feel?"
  "Yes."
  "I know, that's been bothering me, too. That's why I came here to proposition
  you about something," Harry said, putting step one of his plan into action.
  "What is it?" asked Draco, interested.
  "Can you use your Head Boy status to get us passes to Hogsmeade Saturday
  night?"
  Draco shrugged, "Sure, that wouldn't be a problem."
  Harry rubbed his hands together. "Good, then it's a date."
  "Uh, Harry. I don't know if you recall, but you're quite of interest to
  people in Hogsmeade, or don't you remember all of the Daily Prophet articles
  about you fourth year? I don't think we can go on any sort of date without
  winding up in the paper for everyone to see."
  "Oh, Draco, Draco," said Harry, bemusedly shaking his head. "I asked you to
  get passes to Hogsmeade, but that doesn't mean we're going there."
  Draco was confused. "Well, then where are we going?"
  Harry shrugged. "We'll go to Hogsmeade and then go into Muggle London. We can
  have dinner there. Nobody knows either of us there, and they won't care what
  we do," he said with a grin.
  Draco smiled then. He was going to spend an evening with Harry. There would
  be no need to hide their feelings in London. They could do all of the things
  couples do, even if for only one night. "All right, Harry, it's a date," he
  said.
  Harry kissed him then, a gentle kiss full of promise. Then he stood up and
  wrapped his invisibility cloak about himself. "I'd better go. I don't want
  anyone to notice I'm not in bed yet." Draco walked him to the door and kissed
  him goodnight, which was hard to do since he was invisible. Instead of
  kissing Harry's mouth, he ended up kissing his nose, which made the
  Gryffindor giggle. Draco grinned and opened the door. Then Harry was gone. He
  didn't see him go, but he could feel his absence, an immediate emptiness that
  made him feel as if a part of himself had just disappeared. He shut the door,
  crawled into bed, and went immediately to sleep.
  Pansy Parkinson cast a confused glance at Draco's door. She could have sworn
  she heard talking coming from Draco's room. She had returned to see if Draco
  had changed his mind about her offer earlier when she had heard voices. Then,
  when she saw the door beginning to open, she flattened herself against the
  wall, waiting to see who Draco was entertaining. But, Draco had only opened
  the door, stared out wistfully down the corridor and then shut it again.
  Pansy wasn't stupid. There was something really weird going on with Malfoy.
  First, he had rejected her, and now he was talking to himself in his room?
  And, whom was he waiting for? Obviously he was waiting for somebody, and he
  or she was late. Why else would he have looked out into the corridor like
  that? Something didn't add up, and she was definitely going to get down to
  the bottom of things.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 17 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 17 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 17: Fear
  Harry couldn't help but to be amused at Draco's behavior, even though he knew
  the Slytherin had spent most of his life separated from the Muggle world.
  Draco could probably count on one hand the number of times he had been
  outside the safety of his seclusion; so, to him, this was an escape to or an
  escape from reality of sorts. Harry observed his wide-eyed stare at the
  people milling around them on the street. "What's wrong, Draco?" he asked,
  the amusement quite apparent in the pitch of his voice.
  Draco was eyeing a group of teenagers about their own age. One of them had a
  bright purple mohawk and a chain that attached from an earring in his left
  ear to one in his nose. Draco looked at Harry, almost frightened, "Are all
  Muggles this weird?" he asked, still craning his neck around to people watch.
  "They'd probably think we're the weird ones," said Harry. He put his arm
  around the blonde boy's shoulders and pushed him toward the taxi that was
  waiting.
  They had gone to Hogsmeade like they were supposed to, but only for Harry to
  exchange money at Gringott's. They had then walked to Diagon Alley and
  crossed through the hidden portal to London. They were now on their way to a
  restaurant Hermione had mentioned to Harry some time ago. Since Harry knew
  little of London, he figured that this place was their best bet.
  Draco was looking out the foggy window of the taxi at the scenery as it
  flashed by, wearing a similar expression as earlier in the street. He
  swallowed rather audibly. He had never ridden in a Muggle car before, and if
  truth be told, he was feeling a little nauseous. To keep himself from
  vomiting and embarrassing himself, he struck up a conversation. "Do you live
  anywhere around here?" he asked Harry, realizing he knew very little about
  Harry's life away from Hogwart's.
  "Not too far," Harry replied. "I live in Whinnery."
  "Are you going back there after you graduate?"
  "No!" Harry answered rather loudly with a vehement shake of his head.
  Draco looked concerned at Harry's change in moods. He had heard rumors about
  Harry's Muggle relatives, but he had never put much stock in gossip. "Was it
  that bad, then?" he asked and slid his hand across the leather seat on top of
  Harry's. Harry looked down at that hand and turning his over, he laced his
  fingers through Draco's.
  "Yea, it was that bad," he stated simply, not looking in Draco's eyes.
  "Did they. . . Did they abuse you?" Draco asked. Abuse was the only thing he
  could think of since he had been living with his father for seventeen years.
  He couldn't seem to meet Harry's eyes either.
  "No," said Harry, realizing Draco was talking about himself, "not physically,
  anyway. Most of the time they either ignored me or treated me like a slave."
  Draco looked at him then and their eyes met. "Is it true? The rumors, the
  cupboard beneath the stairs?"
  "Yea."
  Draco looked at him sadly, shaking his head in disbelief. "They'll just let
  anyone raise kids, won't they?" he asked, but he seemed to be talking to
  himself.
  Harry liked how Draco handled the situation. He didn't look at him with pity
  like everyone else did. But, then again, if anyone could understand his
  situation, it was Draco, whose own childhood was probably a lot worse.
  If there was one thing Draco's parents had taught him, it was good table
  manners, observed Harry. He watched as Draco meticulously cut his meat with a
  knife and fork. Draco seemed to have a grace about him that wasn't learned,
  however, but innate. Harry could imagine the silver-haired boy as a baby. He
  would be a tow-headed little boy with very serious eyes. He probably always
  ate his strained peas, and most likely never needed a bib.
  Draco put down his knife and fork and leaned back in his chair, his arms
  folded, meeting Harry's gaze. "You're staring at me," he accused.
  Harry blinked and grinned. "I was just noticing how graceful you are," he
  said and blushed.
  Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, it's such a manly trait, isn't it? You should be
  noticing how incredibly rakish and sexy I am."
  "I noticed that a long time ago," admitted Harry. "But really, who taught you
  such etiquette? It couldn't have been your father."
  Draco's face took on a sad strain. "My mother. She was always a lady. She
  wanted to make sure I grew up to be a gentleman, even if my father was
  breeding me as a Death Eater."
  "You talk about her in the past tense."
  "Well," Draco replied, "I'll probably never see her again. She won't leave my
  father."
  Harry was glad Draco was opening up to him, even if it was making him a
  little sad. "So, you're not going back home either?"
  "No."
  "Well then, what are you going to do after you graduate?"
  "I'm not sure, you?"
  "I was thinking of going into auror training," Harry answered.
  Draco looked surprised. "You mean you're not going to play professional
  Quidditch? You could, you know."
  This was really the first time Draco had admitted Harry's skills on the
  pitch, and Harry was rather pleased. "I doubt it. My father played for
  England for a year, though. Dumbledore told me about it a couple of years
  ago. It may be an idea for you, though."
  Draco shook his head, "Naw."
  "Why not?"
  "Because, the only one I was ever interested in playing against was you,
  Harry." Draco said and ducked his head adorably. Harry wasn't sure whether he
  blushed just then, or if it was just a flicker of the candlelight.
  "Well, that's good. I don't know if I would like you being out of the country
 so often."
  Draco pushed himself up to the table and grabbed both of Harry's hands,
  almost knocking over the crystal water goblet Harry was reaching for. "You
  mean, you've thought about that?"
  "Thought about what?"
  "Us, in the future."
  Harry hadn't realized he had let so much slip. "Well, yea, haven't you?"
  Draco shook his head. "It all just seems too good to be true. Sometimes I'm
  afraid I'm going to wake up and it will all have been a dream."
  "Well, Draco, stop dreaming," said Harry softly. He pulled Draco's hands up
  to his mouth and gently kissed his knuckles one by one, noting Draco's silver
  eyes glazing into the stormy color he always liked.
  "So, this is serious then?" Draco asked in a whisper.
  "I hope so," said Harry, releasing Draco's hands, "Don't you?"
  Draco nodded. "Yes. But, we need to have a long talk."
  "We are talking."
  "No, I mean somewhere more private," he said, looking around the dimly lit
  room at the people at tables nearby.
  Harry was hoping Draco would mention something like that. It would make phase
  two of his plan so much easier. "Okay, you have your own room. We'll go
  there. But, what do we need to talk about?"
  "About how we're going to handle the rest of this year," Draco replied,
  flashing Harry a look he didn't quite understand.
  When they left the restaurant, they never expected to get accosted. They had
  been living in the wizarding world so long, they had taken certain things for
  granted. Well, Muggles weren't always as accepting as wizards, and they
  definitely were more inclined to attack that which they considered abnormal.
  When Harry and Draco exited the little restaurant, they were still basking in
  the closeness they had shared. Not yet willing to give it up, they held onto
  each other's hands as if their lives depended on it.
  "Hey look, Jake, what do we have here?"
  Harry and Draco looked about in shock, their eyes resting on two boys who
  looked about their age. One was a short, wiry kid. He wore a scruffy leather
  jacket over top of an even scruffier once-white T-shirt. He held a
  switchblade in his hand, flicking the blade in and out rather nonchalantly.
  His eyes, however, glowed with an unadulterated hatred that Draco and Harry
  had never seen each other wear, even when they admittedly despised each other
  the last six years.
  The boy flipped his greasy, shoulder-length hair out of his eyes and gestured
  to his companion with his knife. "Well, what do you think?"
  His friend was a monster. He stood well over six-feet and must have been the
  brute force of the two. He was dressed similarly to the wiry guy, also
  wearing a leather jacket, which made Harry wonder if they were part of a
  gang. The second boy, who must have been Jake, shook his closely shaved head.
  "I dunno, Bill. Looks like a couple of faggots to me."
  Draco and Harry were dumbfounded. If they were thinking straight, all they
  would have to do was walk back into the restaurant and wait for the two thugs
  to leave, but they weren't. The thugs advanced on them slowly, and Harry and
  Draco, without realizing it, scuttled slowly to their left away from them.
  When they were past the restaurant's plate glass windows, the smaller thug
  flung his body against Harry, crashing him against the brick wall of the
  building.
  The boy flipped open his knife and held its blade against Harry's neck. Draco
  lunged at the boy, but the bigger brute grabbed him by the waist, holding his
  arms down at the elbows.
  "Let him go!" yelled Draco. He had never been this frightened before, not
  even during his Death Eater training that past summer. He could see the pulse
  in Harry's neck throbbing against the edge of the knife.
  "I know, Jake. Let's show your pretty little boyfriend there what we do to
  arse bandits."
  "Oh, I don't know Bill. I don't think he'd like that," said the boy holding
  Draco. "I think he wants in on the action. Don't you, pretty boy?" he asked,
  and let go of Draco only to push him against the wall by Harry. His face hit
  the wall hard enough to sting. The bigger guy was slower than the other one,
  though, and Draco had Seeker's reflexes. He grabbed his wand out of the back
  of his jeans and flung himself around. "Petrificus!" Jake couldn't even
  register shock before he hit the ground. Draco turned to the guy who was
  holding Harry. Fear was just beginning to register on the thug's face when
  Draco lifted his wand.
  "Hey, I thought I told you you weren't welcome in this part of town?" Draco
  looked to see a police officer strolling toward them. He let out a sigh of
  relief. He had been so mad at the guy who was holding up Harry, he was afraid
  of what he might have done.
  The greasy-haired thug flipped the blade of his knife in and backed away from
  Harry. "No problem, officer," he said, backing away even farther. Before the
  officer could reach them, he bolted down the alley next to the building.
  "Sorry about that, guys," the officer said, walking up to them. "That gang's
  been getting bold lately. They know this section is well covered, but they
  still risk it every once in a while. Did they steal anything?"
  Harry had finally collected himself enough to speak. "No, we're fine," he
  mumbled.
  "I hope so," said the officer. "I'm only on foot patrol, or I would have
  taken him in." His eyes finally lit on the big guy on the ground. He jerked
  his head up and eyed them suspiciously. "What did you two do? He's not dead,
  is he?"
  Draco shook his head. "No. Just unconscious. He'll come around in a little
  while."
  The cop seemed to believe him. "Okay. Well, you two better get out of here.
  Normally, I'd have to bring you in for questioning, but it seems like that
  guy got what he deserved. Besides, I'm sure you were only defending
  yourselves." He didn't even have to finish his sentence because Draco and
  Harry were walking as quickly as they could away from the scene.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 18 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 18 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 18: Tremors
  Harry and Draco sat on the side of the bed silently. Draco watched Harry,
  trying to ascertain his emotions, but the Gryffindor was staring morosely at
  the wall, seemingly lost in thought. Draco had looked forward to that night
  all week. When Harry had asked him out on a date, a real date, he had never
  predicted it would end anything like this. Although he had never admitted
  fear to himself before, he did so now. The two thugs that attacked them made
  them feel as if their relationship was dirty, like getting caught
  masturbating in the school bathroom in between classes. He had gotten past
  that feeling when he had attacked, then kissed Harry in the empty classroom
  on the night of the Yule Ball, and damned if he was going to move back to
  that position in their relationship because they had almost fallen victim to
  a hate crime! After all, they didn't live in the Muggle world, they were
  wizards, and wizards were more accepting to differences. But, still he was
  unsure how Harry felt. After all, Harry had lived longer as a Muggle than as
  a wizard. And, Harry had been the one with the knife to his throat.
  And because he knew he would have to speak sooner or later: "Harry . . ."
  Green eyes sliced to silver ones. "Don't. Don't speak. I know what you're
  going to say, and I'm not ready to hear you say it," Harry interrupted.
  "Harry . . ."
  "I said shut up, Draco!"
  Since Draco didn't know what else to do, he acted on impulse. Grabbing Harry
  by the shoulders, he rolled him on his back at the bottom of the bed. Harry's
  hands were trapped by Draco's body, which was lying on top of him. Draco put
  his hands over Harry's mouth. "You're going to listen me, Harry, and you're
  not going to speak until I'm through," Draco said, his face a mere inch away
  from Harry's. Harry's emerald eyes were wide as he stared at the boy who held
  him pinned. "Now, I'll take my hand off your mouth if you promise you won't
  say a word until I'm finished. Is that a deal?" Harry nodded. "Okay," Draco
  removed his hand.
  Draco paused a moment, as if daring the boy beneath him to go back on his
  word. He didn't. "Harry, I know what happened scared you. Hell, it terrified
  the hell out of me. But not because I thought I was going to be hurt. I
  didn't think about myself; I was so worried about you. To tell you the truth,
  I haven't placed myself first in a long time. Not since . . . Well, not since
  I started seeing you." Harry seemed to be having trouble breathing, even
  though Draco had removed his hand from his mouth. Draco paused and eased up
  his weight a little. "Christ, Harry. Don't let a couple of Muggles make you
  change your mind about us. I don't think. . . I don't think I can handle
  that."
  Looking down at Harry, Draco waited for him to speak. Then, he realized he
  had made him promise not to speak. "You can talk now, Harry."
  "Will you get off of me?"
  "Yes," Draco said and rolled off of Harry, he lay on his back next to the
  Gryffindor.
  Harry spoke to the ceiling. "Of all the things I thought you'd say, that was
  the farthest from my mind."
  "Why?"
  "Well, I thought you'd be the one having second thoughts."
  Draco sat up and looked down at him, forcing their eyes to make contact. "Why
  would you think that?"
  "You were the one who had trouble with our relationship in the first place,"
  Harry pointed out.
  "True, but not now. You were the one who was attacked."
  "Right. Actually, it's all my fault. I knew how some Muggles react to
  homosexuality. We should have never flaunted ourselves like that."
  "We weren't flaunting."
  "No, we weren't. But, to them we were. I should have thought about that. I
  know how you hate Muggles and all . "
  Draco grabbed Harry by the arms and pulled him up to a sitting position. "I
  don't hate them, Harry, not anymore. Muggle Studies has helped me to
  understand them a little better. And after tonight, what happened, any
  dislike I had for them is gone."
  Harry looked confused. "But, they attacked us!"
  Draco sighed. "I know. A normal person would probably hate them after that,
  but I don't. I can't explain it, really. I think I feel sorry for them."
  "You're kidding."
  "No. Think about it. Anything they don't understand, they attack. This-this
  `thing' between us," Draco gestured with his hands from Harry to himself,
  "feels so right, but all they can see is wrong. I can't hate them for that.
  Hell, I was like that once. For seventeen years, actually."
  Harry still looked a little confused. "And now?"
  Draco laughed and hugged Harry to him, speaking over the brunette's shoulder.
  "And now, I think I've been resurrected." He kissed a curl behind Harry's ear
  and then continued to speak, now in a whisper. "I thought I was going to lose
  you tonight. I almost did lose you."
  "It's going to take more than a couple of thugs to keep me away from you,
  Draco," Harry said softly over Draco's shoulder. He reluctantly pulled
  himself out of Draco's embrace and squared his shoulders. "Now, you wanted to
  have a talk about the rest of the year?"
  "Yes."
  "Well, go on . . ."
  "Harry, it's just. I'm just so damn tired of all this sneaking around
  nonsense. I want what everyone else has. I want to be able to be seen with
  you, as your boyfriend. I never thought I'd say it before, but I want what
  Granger and Weasely have. They can kiss in the hallway, hold hands . . ."
  "You mean you want to come out."
  "Yes. I mean, I know it would cause quite a stir and all, but once the gossip
  wears out . . ."
  Harry brushed a strand of silvery-blonde hair our of Draco's eyes. "Draco, I
  would like nothing better than to tell the world, but we can't."
  "Why not? Shit, don't say anything, I know why not. It's because you're a
  Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin. Am I right?"
  "No, that's not it at all. If truth be told, I was almost placed in Slytherin
  myself. Think about it, Draco. If it came out that we were a couple, how long
  would it take for your father to find out?"
  "About as quick as an owl can fly."
  "Right. All we need is one Death Eater's son or daughter to find out, then
  your father knows, then Voldemort knows. Then. . ."
  "All hell breaks loose," Draco muttered with a heavy sigh. He knew all these
  reasons already. He had been mulling them over in his mind for two months.
 "You're right, Harry. It's just. . . I hate not being able to touch you, to
  kiss you when I pass by you in the corridors. I hate having to put up a
  pretence of friendship with you just so I can spend some time with you
  outside of closets and empty classrooms."
  Harry looked at his boyfriend sadly. "I know exactly how you feel. I've been
  feeling the same way. But, if it's any consolation, Hermione knows."
  "Granger knows?"
  "Hermione. And, yes, she figured it out a while ago."
  "I bet she was pissed."
  "Actually, she wasn't. She seems to like you a lot better now."
  Draco whistled through his teeth. "As if that doesn't beat all. Granger
  knows, and she approves. That makes me almost want to apologize to her for
  everything I've done."
  "You will apologize to her."
  "I won't."
  "Yes, you will," Harry said, and leaned over to kiss Draco softly on the
  mouth.
  "Alright, I will. But, what about Weasely?"
  Harry shrugged. "He doesn't know, and I'm not ready to tell him."
  "Why the hell not?" Draco asked, getting angry.
  "He's not ready yet, Draco. Hermione already mentioned something to him, and
  he refused to believe it."
  "Shit. I was getting excited there. I mean, if Granger knew and Weasely knew,
  at least we wouldn't have to hide it in front of them, and . . ."
  "And," Harry finished, "I spend a lot of time alone with them. I understand,
  Draco. What we can do, though, is try to work on your relationship with Ron."
  "What relationship?"
  "Exactly. Right now, you two ignore each other. You need to start talking to
  him. And by talking, I mean no insults."
  Draco smiled. "That could be rough."
  "Well, it's a start. When you two are able to be friends, or at least
  tolerate each other's presence, then maybe we can tell him what's been going
  on. Until then, he's better left in the dark." Harry said. "Alright?"
  "Alright, agreed."
  Now it was time for Harry to laugh. "No agreements, please, Draco." They
  shared a laugh.
  Draco lay down, at the head of the bed this time and raised his arms to
  Harry. "Come here, Harry." Harry sidled over to him and laid his head on
  Draco's chest. They lay like that a long time. "You know, I really had a good
  time tonight, minus the whole gang fight and everything."
  "Me too," Harry replied. He raised himself up on one elbow and began running
  his fingers through silky blonde hair. "Is this your real hair color?"
  "Of course it is," Draco snorted. "Why?"
  Harry smiled down at stormy eyes. "It's just so beautiful. You're so
  beautiful, too beautiful to be real."
  Draco blushed, an unbecoming red marring his alabaster complexion. "You seem
  to have a way of embarrassing me, do you know that?"
  "I don't mean to, I just say what I feel."
  Draco looked up at him, his eyes almost transparent due to their
  luminescence. "How do you feel now?"
  "I feel . . . I feel warm, safe, and completely flustered."
  "Yea, me too. " said Draco, and he pushed Harry on his back, straddling him.
  He then leaned over and began planting soft kisses from Harry's neck down to
  the collar of his shirt. "Damn," he said, "We'll have to get this out of the
  way." Graceful fingers began plucking the buttons of Harry's shirt open. When
  the shirt was completely unbuttoned, Harry shrugged out of it, and Draco
  pushed it off the bed. He then fingered the silver chain around Harry's neck.
  "You're still wearing it."
  "Yes. I don't plan on ever taking it off. What about you? Do you still have
  yours?"
  Draco leaned up and pulled his cardigan off, then the T-shirt underneath
  until he was completely bare from the waist up. He was wearing the claudaugh.
  "Yes."
  Harry's pulse became even more rapid as he gazed at the Slytherin. Draco was
  a vision he could get used to seeing. He never knew of anyone so pale, so
  sculpted, so perfect. He looked up to notice that Draco was appraising him in
  much the same way.
  Draco couldn't believe how muscular Harry was. He had a Quidditch player's
  body, all slimness and sinew. Harry had definitely grown from the skinny kid
  he had met when he was eleven. He leaned down, sharing his weight with
  Harry's abdomen and his own elbows. Still on his elbows, he reached out a
  hand and stroked the pulse at the base of Harry's throat. He realized that it
  beat at the same rhythm as his own, fast and irregular. Harry reached up,
  pulling Draco off his elbows until they were skin to skin. Draco gasped at
  the new sensation. He never realized lying naked, or nearly naked, with
  someone could feel so incredible. Then Harry kissed him. It was a gentle kiss
  at first, then grew more demanding. He felt Harry's tongue knocking at the
  door of his mouth, and he opened up to let him in. Their tongues intertwined,
  and Draco heard a groan. He wasn't sure if it was him or Harry, maybe it was
  both of them. When he pulled back to look in Harry's eyes, Draco became quite
  aware of Harry's situation; he could feel it against his thigh. "Harry," he
  whispered, "What do you want?"
  "You, Draco. I want you." Harry's eyes were gleaming a shade of emerald Draco
  had never seen before.
  "Are you sure?" Draco asked hesitantly.
  "Yes," Harry whispered.
  "Have you ever done this before?"
  "No."
  "Me neither."
  Harry's green eyes clouded with confusion. "But I thought you said. . ."
  "Shhh," Draco said, planting a small kiss on his mouth. "I said I'd had sex
  before, with girls. But, I've never made love before."
  "Oh," Harry said. He looked up at Draco, noting the nervousness apparent in
  the boy's eyes and body. Draco was propped up on his elbows, but he couldn't
  be for long because his arms were trembling violently"
  "You're shaking."
  Draco smiled. "I know. So are you."
  Harry realized Draco was right when a tremor pulsed through his body that was
  twenty times greater than any cold chill he had ever felt in his life. "I
  guess I am," he whispered, overwhelmed by passion he only felt when he was
  around the alabaster god that was before him. "Please, Draco. Please, make
  love to me."
  "As if I could do anything else, Harry," Draco said and leaned down to kiss
  the raven-haired boy beneath him. Halfway through the kiss, his arms finally
  gave out, and he collapsed on top of him.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 19 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 19 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 19: Emotion
  When Draco's body collapsed upon his, Harry snaked his arms around him and
  barrel rolled them to their sides. Facing each other, the boys paused a
  moment for their trembling to subside. Draco regained composure first and
  gazed at Harry, whose eyes were closed trying to catch his breath. Draco
  kissed Harry's eyelids and giggled when his lashes tickled his lips when his
  eyes opened. His lips then moved to Harry's cheek and down to his jaw.
  Pulling his head up to Harry's unwavering gaze, he placed his hand on Harry's
  shoulder and smoothed it down to his waist. This set them both to trembling
  again, and they decided to just give in to the emotion.
  Harry propped himself up and said, "Roll over, love." Draco conceded, rolling
  over onto his back. Harry was hesitant at first. "Draco, I don't know what
  I'm doing."
  "It's all right, Harry. I've wanted you for so long; please, just touch me."
  Draco said, biting his bottom lip under the pure torture of Harry's missing
  touch. Harry leaned in and took control of Draco's ear. His teeth lightly bit
  a soft earlobe, his tongue swirling slowly over the ridges of the shell of
  the ear. Draco groaned under these ministrations, and he reached up pulling
  Harry to his lips. Both boys had completely given into passion by then, all
  embarrassment long forgotten. When Harry pulled away, it was to trail
  butterfly kisses down Draco's neck to his collarbone. When his gaze moved
  farther down, he stared entranced at a pink nipple before kissing the nub to
  hardness. He heard Draco gasp, and the boy's hands went into his hair,
  holding his head at his breast. Harry spiraled the velvety hard nipple with
  his tongue until Draco groaned, then he moved to the other one. After being
  awarded with another groan, he moved down the v-ed center of Draco's abdomen,
  licking and kissing, not wanting to mar the beautiful expanse of pale flesh
  beneath his lips.
  When Harry's mouth encountered the band of Draco's trousers, he looked up at
  silver eyes questioningly. "You don't have to if you don't want to," Draco
  said breathlessly.
  "Do you want me to?"
  "Hell, yes."
  Harry flashed a smug grin up at the silver-haired Slytherin and began
  unbuttoning the trousers. It was a difficult job since Harry's hands were
  shaking and Draco was so swollen beneath the fly, but he was finally able to
  pull them off and toss them unceremoniously to the floor. Draco's black
  briefs followed suit. When Draco was lying before him like a feast spread
  before a starving man, Harry realized he was at eye-level with Draco's sex.
  He should have known that every part of the boy would be beautiful, but he
  hadn't realized how beautiful another boy could actually be. Draco was very
  aroused, and his erection jutted out at Harry, waiting to be explored. Harry
  traced a tentative fingertip along the head of Draco's member. The other boy
  gasped then, and looking up, Harry watched as the silver eyes glazed over
  with need. Gathering up as much courage as he could muster, Harry slipped his
  mouth over the head, tasting the saltiness of Draco there. Swirling his
  tongue around it, he slowly lowered his mouth down, down until he had taken
  all of him in.
  Draco gasped loudly when Harry had all but swallowed him. He had never
  experienced anything like this before, and he bit at his lower lip, trying to
  keep control. He had wanted Harry so long, he was afraid he would finish
  before it even began. Harry must have sensed what was going on with him
  because he didn't move until Draco was comfortable being in his mouth. When
  Harry looked up at him, a question in his eyes, Draco nodded for him to
  continue. Although Harry was inexperienced, he seemed to know what Draco
  liked through experiment. Draco closed his eyes and let the emotions wash
  over him. When he dared to look down, seeing his lover between his legs
  almost undid him once, and he didn't want that to happen so soon.
  Harry began by slowly sliding his mouth up and down the Slytherin's erection,
  liking the oxymoron of the soft hardness of him. When he grew accustomed to
  the situation, he began moving faster, applying pressure. When Draco began
  gasping and calling his name, he slowed down, adding his hand to the bottom
  of the shaft, mouth and hand moving simultaneously, milking the beautiful
  blonde boy until he finally shuddered, emptying himself deep in Harry's
  throat. Harry swallowed the fluid, reveling in Draco's taste. He then let
  Draco slip out of his mouth and began kissing back up his body until he met
  Draco's lips. Draco's eyes still had that unbelievable hue when he yanked
  Harry down to him by the nape of his neck, kissing him passionately,
  possessively. The kiss was short because neither boy was breathing yet.
  "Harry, Oh Gods, Harry," Draco said, burying his face in Harry's neck. He
  seemed to be trying to recapture his breath.
  When Draco seemed to no longer be at risk of hyperventilating, Harry asked
  nervously, "So, did I do it right?"
  "Bloody hell, Harry. Sometimes your naivety irks me. You did it right-You
  were perfect." Draco said, watching the Gryffindor blush.
  "Good."
  Draco shook his head, "No, not good, fantastic. Now, what can I do for you?"
  This seemed to embarrass Harry more. "I . . um. Err."
  Draco laughed. It would be some time before Harry would be ready to tell him
  exactly what he wanted, but that was okay because he could experiment too.
  Rolling Harry over on his back, he took the dominant position. Harry's
  naivety had almost empowered him to the point that he was no longer unsure of
  himself. His soul-desire at that point was to make Harry feel just as good as
  he felt when Harry had loved him. With loving hands, he stroked his way down
  Harry's body, his mouth and tongue following leader with his palms. When
  Harry's pants and boxers joined Draco's on the floor, Draco appraised his
  lover. Harry was something artists would kill one another to paint-he was a
  masterpiece. Harry had an athlete's body, slim but muscular. Harry hadn't
  lost his tan from the previous summer, although it was somewhat faded. Draco
  placed his arm atop of Harry's sculpted thigh, amazed at the difference in
  color, a vivid white against a darker tan. They were complete opposites, but
  fit so well together. A paradox of rightness. He would never cease to be
  amazed at this.
  Draco eased his palms up Harry's slim thighs to his manhood. He and Harry
  were about the same length, but Harry seemed thicker. Looking up at Harry, he
  noticed Harry was watching his every movement, his emerald eyes radiating a
  passion that spurred Draco on. Draco kissed every inch of Harry's length
  until he reached the tip, then he slid his mouth over Harry, hearing him
  groan. Watching every expression, every muscle twitch in Harry's face, Draco
  slid his mouth over Harry until, with a scream of Draco's name, Harry filled
  his mouth with his seed. When Draco had licked every bit of the fluid off, he
  finally rejoined Harry at the head of the bed.
  Several minutes later, Harry turned over on his side, facing his lover.
  "Draco. . . I .. . Shit, I don't know how to say what that felt like . . ."
  "Shhh. I know, love. There's no need to explain anything," Draco said,
  pushing a lock of ebony hair off of his cheek. Draco then noticed how cold it
  was in the room. It was always cold in the dungeons, but with sex-induced
  sweat evaporating off their skin, it was chillier than usual. He reached down
  and grabbed the green coverlet that had somehow landed on the floor and
  spread it over them. "Better?"
  "Mmmhmm." They lay silently for quite a while. It was a comfortable silence
  brought on by the amazing sensations they had just shared.
  Draco was the first to break the silence. "Harry?"
  "Hmm?"
  "Can you stay?"
  Harry looked at him tenderly. "Tomorrow's Sunday, I can stay as long as you
  like."
  "How about forever?"
  Harry laughed. "I think we would starve to death."
  "It would be worth it."
  "Yea." Harry said, still laughing. Everything with Draco, about Draco, was
  worth so much. He wanted to experience everything with him, to know
  everything about him. And, this was as good a time as ever to start asking
  some questions. Actually it was the best time, knowing Draco was in an
  exceptionally good mood. "Umm, Draco?"
  "What, Harry?" Draco asked, snuggling himself up against Harry's side until
  he was laying with his head on Harry's shoulder and his fingers tangled in
 Harry's necklace.
  Harry looked down at the top of the silvery-blonde head, wishing he could see
  Draco's face, but maybe it was better this way. "Are you ready to tell me
  about your summer?"
  Draco paused for so long, Harry wondered if he fell asleep. But finally,
  "Yes. I'll tell you anything you want to know, love. Just-Just, can we turn
  the light out?"
  Harry knew that sometimes it was better to confess things when you couldn't
  see the expression of the one you was confessing to, so he sidled out from
  under Draco's body and finding his trousers crumpled on the floor, he removed
  his wand from the inside pocket. "Nox," he said, the dungeon room going
  complete black.
  When he lay back, he reached for Draco and pulled him into the same position.
  "Whenever you're ready," he said.
  Draco swallowed audibly and closed his eyes despite the fact the room was
  already dark. He knew that sooner or later he would have to tell Harry all
  that had happened. He wanted to tell Harry all that happened, but it was
  still painful to dredge up the memory. "You of course know that my father was
  training me to be a Death Eater, right?"
  "Right."
  "Well, I guess you could say he had begun training me from birth. Little
  things at first. I had mastered the Unforgivable curses by the time I was
  seven. He began by bringing me insects at first, and then moved on to bigger
  and bigger animals. He even had me do Avada Kedavera on a unicorn once."
  Although Harry gasped, he went on. The tale was going to get worse, and he
  didn't want to pause now, or he wouldn't be able to continue. "Yes, I'm a
  master at the Avada Kedavera. My father made sure of that," he said, biting
  back the bitterness in his voice.
  "By the time I came to Hogwart's, I was so well versed in the Dark Arts, I
  could probably teach a course. You probably knew that, though, or at least
  suspected it. The thing is, I didn't know any better, that was how I was
  raised, damn it! When I offered my hand to you in friendship, I assumed you
  had learned the same things. I assumed everybody had learned the same things.
  Needless to say, coming to Hogwart's and meeting other students and realizing
  I was different really unnerved me. So, I reacted the best I could. I was a
  mean bastard to everyone, especially to you, because you were the first one
  to reject me."
  "Draco . . ."
  "Shhh, Harry. Let me finish, please. My father raised me to believe that
  Malfoys were better than everyone else, and I believed him. I even admired
  the bastard, but that all changed after the end of sixth year. When you and
  your friends were going home on summer vacation, I was sent to Death Eater
  training. After all, that was what I was born for. Did you know that? My
  father promised me to Voldemort before I was even conceived!" He felt Harry
  shudder beneath his cheek. "Every day my father would blindfold me, then we
  would use a portkey to some place. I don't know where because he wouldn't
  remove my blindfold until we were with Voldemort. At first the training was
  pretty easy. I just had to prove to Voldemort I knew the Unforgivables. You
  know, on animals. It was child's play, really. Then, Voldemort began to teach
  me some of the harder Dark Arts stuff, like controlling the souls of the
  dead. That was easy, too. He was even pretty nice to me, like I was a protg
  or something. Then, on my seventeenth birthday, I had to go through
  initiation. My father, Voldemort, and I met in a cavern of some sort. They
  were planning to raid a Muggle house. I was really nervous because they were
  planning to kill the Muggles who lived there, just for sport. I had never
  killed anyone before, and I really didn't want to kill anyone. But, my father
  wanted me to, and so I figured it was al right. After all, they were only
  Muggles. `Only Muggles.' That's how I thought then . . ."
  Draco paused for a moment. Harry knew he wasn't expected to say anything. He
  didn't think Draco even wanted him to say anything at that moment, so he kept
  silent. Finally, Draco was able to go on. "The Muggles who lived there must
  have been pretty wealthy because the house was huge, a castle almost. We
  apparated inside the house, surprising the people who were there. I remember
  they were watching television. The whole family was in the family room. There
  were five of them: the mother, the father, a teenage girl, and two twin
  toddlers. There were kids, for crying out loud! Voldemort killed the father
  quickly with the killing curse, and my father killed the mother just as
  quickly. When they got to the kids, though, they took their time. The girl
  had tried to shelter the twins with her body, but my father put Cruciatus on
  her. She was screaming so loudly, I can still hear it in my dreams at night.
  He did that. He kept putting her under Cruciatus until she was babbling
  nonsense. Her eyes rolled up into her head, and she was drooling. She must
  have gone insane. Throughout all of this, the twins had huddled into a
  corner, they were crying. The bastards had made them watch their whole family
  die! I was almost glad when Voldemort used the killing curse on the girl. I
  couldn't stand to see her suffer anymore.
  When it came to the twins, they weren't as controlled. It seems they get off
  on killing children . . . They began placing hexes on them left and right.
  Some of them I never heard of before. They especially liked the hexes that
  caused some type of pain. They were playing with them, enjoying the pain they
  were causing. After about an hour of torturing them, my father took out a
  knife and slit one of their throats. It took him about ten minutes to die.
  I'll never forget that. Then, my father handed the knife to me and said, "Go
  on, son. It's your turn." But, I couldn't do it. I just stared at the knife
  he was holding out to me. It was almost like I was paralyzed. My father told
  me that if I didn't do it, then I wouldn't get the Dark Mark. But, I was
  glad. I didn't want the Dark Mark. I'm not sure if I ever really wanted it.
  All I wanted was respect from my father, until that point. I stopped
  respecting him the moment I saw him kill another human being. So, I shook my
  head and told him I didn't want the mark, and if he wanted the boy dead, he
  would have to do it himself. And he did. But, because of my refusal, he
  seemed to need to torture the boy even more. He sliced him with that knife,
  almost everywhere. He was still living when my father finally put him out of
  his misery."
  Harry's arms encircled him, giving him warmth. He was cold, so damn cold! "Do
  you know why they call them Death Eaters, Harry?"
  "No."
  "Because, that's what they do. They're cannibals, Harry. They drink their
  blood, then they eat their hearts when they're through. I watched both
  Voldemort and my father do this that night. I watched them not only kill five
  people, but cannibalize them, and I didn't do a damn thing to stop them!"
  Harry sighed. It seemed that Draco had been living with overwhelming guilt
  for quite some time. "Draco, could you have done anything? Could you have
  stopped either your father or Voldemort?"
  "No. I didn't even have my wand that night. I wasn't allowed to bring it.
  But, at least I could have tried. Even if I died trying, I could have at
  least given a fight."
  "No, Draco. Would your death have solved anything?" He waited for Draco to
  answer, but he didn't. "No, it wouldn't. Those people would have still been
  killed, and the death count would have been six, not five."
  "You're right, I guess. But, it doesn't make me feel much better." Draco
  admitted.
  Harry wished he could see Draco's eyes at that moment, but he couldn't.
  "It'll take time to heal, Draco, and I'll be here for you to help you. I
  promise you that." Harry said and kissed the top of Draco's head, nuzzling
  his face in the soft hair, absorbing Draco's scent. When he spoke again, his
  breath rustled through Draco's hair warmly. "What did he do after that? Your
  father, I mean."
  "The same thing he always does when I disobey. He beat me until I passed
  out."
  Harry wasn't surprised at this. He knew from subtle hints Draco had been
  giving him over the last few months that Lucius Malfoy was abusive. He pulled
  the Slytherin even tighter into his embrace, holding him for several minutes.
  Finally, the dam broke and Draco began sobbing into his chest. Harry didn't
  say anything, he just let him cry, rubbing his back soothingly as he did so.
  Draco cried for a very long time, until there didn't seem to be any tears
  left. They were tears that he had been holding back for a long time. Some
  were from six months ago, others had been held for seventeen years. Harry
  simply held him after he cried until he could feel the other boy's deep
  breathing against his chest. Draco had fallen asleep, and Harry followed suit
  soon afterward.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 20 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 20 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 20: Ire
  When Harry awoke the next morning, it was with a start. Not used to these
  surroundings, he sat up quickly, taking in the emerald and silver brocaded
  bed hangings that were wrapped around his peripheral vision with dazed
  confusion. It took a moment to register that he was in Draco's room in the
  dungeon. And with this remembrance came other memories; the curve of an
  alabaster hip, the stormy hue of silver irises, the impassioned murmur of his
  own name, and finally the confessions. Last night had been a paradox, just
  like everything with Draco was. It had been Heaven and Hell.
  Harry lay back down, pulling the coverlet up to his chin. Draco had rolled
  away from him when he sat up, so he reached over and pulled the blonde boy
  toward him gently as to not wake up his slumber. Draco needed this rest after
  what he had shared the previous night, a healing salve after a heartbreaking
  confession. Harry gulped and tried to swallow the anger and revulsion that
  came over him when he thought about Draco's initiation. No one should have to
  go through something like that. All this time, Harry had felt his life was
  rough. For six years, he had looked upon Draco Malfoy as being a spoiled brat
  who got whatever he desired, had even envied him for it. He had never
  realized that Draco's life had been much harder than he could ever imagine.
  It was then that Harry realized that Draco was probably the strongest person
  he had ever known. An ordinary person would have cracked from the endless
  torment he had suffered, or would have eventually succumbed to it. But, not
  Draco. Draco had stood up to that torment, gazed it defiantly in the eye, and
  given it the proverbial middle finger. Sure, he was suffering now, but
  eventually it would make him even stronger. Harry wanted to be there to see
  that happen; he wanted to be there for as long as Draco would allow.
  As if sensing Harry was thinking about him, Draco stirred. Rolling himself on
  his back, he reached his arms above his head in a stretch that nearly gave
  Harry a hard knock in the jaw. Yawning sleepily and rather sexily, he turned
  to the Gryffindor as if just realizing he was there. Meeting an emerald gaze,
  Draco did something he hadn't done since he was a child. He blushed.
  "What's wrong, love?" Harry asked, although he knew. After all, he had been
  blushing himself just a few minutes ago.
  Draco reached up and smoothed a wayward curl away from Harry's forehead.
  "Nothing. I just remembered everything that happened last night, is all."
  "So, what's so embarrassing? What we did, or afterward?" Harry asked.
  Although he didn't wish to embarrass Draco further, his curiosity was getting
  the better of him.
  "All of it," Draco said, blushing further. "Last night was a lot of firsts,
  Harry. The first time I made love, the first time I ever told anyone about my
  childhood, about my initiation. And, today is the first time I ever woke up
  with anyone before."
  "Is it that bad?"
  Draco sighed rather heavily and shook his head. "No, it's wonderful. Just a
  little disconcerting is all. You know, this is the beginning of something . .
  . there's no going back now."
  Harry pulled the silver-haired boy to him and did his best to kiss away his
  embarrassment. When he pulled away, he said in a whisper, "For me it began a
  long time ago, Draco, when I first tried to kiss away your sadness during the
  first snowfall."
  Draco leaned into him then and kissed him rather deeply, running his
  fingertips through the tangled bird's nest of Harry's hair. When they pulled
  away for the second time, Draco put a little distance between Harry and
  himself. He could feel the stirrings of passion rising up within him like the
  sea trying to burst through a dam, but he knew their relationship, the sexual
  part of it, was too new to explore during the daylight. After all, the night
  has its own magic about it that eased fears and stoked passion to
  overwhelming proportions. Daytime brought about uncertainty, fumbling, and
  awkwardness. That wasn't something he wanted Harry to experience yet. Not
 when their first experience had been so magical.
  "What time is it?" Harry asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his
  nose. He had just realized he had slept with them on.
  Draco pulled the bed curtains aside and looked at the clock on his
  nightstand. "Well past breakfast. We have less than thirty minutes if you
  want to eat lunch."
  Harry sat up and groped for his clothing on the floor. Pulling on his
  underwear and pants, he said apologetically, "We probably should make an
  appearance at lunch. Not making it to breakfast on a Sunday is one thing, but
  lunch . . ."
  "I know," replied Draco. "I just wish you didn't have to go, or at least we
  could have lunch together."
  Harry stood up now fully dressed. "Well, why can't we? Sit with me at the
  Gryffindor table. Everyone knows we're friends."
  Draco shook his head. "Weasley . . ."
  ". . . will have to grin and bear it."
  "Fine."
  Harry nodded and gave Draco a warm but hurried kiss on the lips before
  quickly pulling on his shirt and shoes and leaving for the Gryffindor tower.
  Both Draco and Harry were surprised by the indifference the Hogwart's
  students had shown at their seating arrangement. It would seem that their
  friendship was now accepted, albeit grudgingly. Hermione even sat on the
  other side of Draco and talked with him about the upcoming NEWT's. Harry
  almost groaned when she mentioned this because he had been so caught up with
  his and Draco's budding romance that he had completely forgotten about the
  grueling exams that were coming up. He knew Hermione had been studying for
  them since the beginning of the school year, but his selective memory had
  helped him forget this descending doom.
  Ron walked in during the midst of the conversation and plopped himself down
  beside Hermione. He managed to fill his plate and drink half of his pumpkin
  juice before he realized who was sitting with them. Choking and spitting
  orange fluid across the table at Ginny, he sputtered, "What the HELL is he
  doing here?" All the time, he was pointing a finger at Draco as if he were
  wishing it were the barrel of a revolver.
  "What does it look like I'm doing, Weasely? I'm eating," Draco drawled. Harry
  winced. He could tell Draco was trying to restrain his tone, but he wasn't
  quite successful. The Malfoy superiority was still beneath the surface, and
  it seemed to enflame Ron even more.
  "Why don't you slither back to your own table, Malfoy?"
  Draco shrugged. "My friends are here, Weasley," he said, glancing back and
  forth from Harry to Hermione. Hermione actually smiled when she realized she
  was included in Draco's estimation of friendship.
  Hermione put a hand on Ron's shoulder as if restraining him from jumping out
  of his seat. "Calm down, Ron. Draco and I were having a nice conversation
  about the upcoming exams. Something you should be thinking about, I might
  add." Although Hermione was usually able to salve Ron's nerves, it wasn't
  going to happen this time.
  Ron brushed Hermione's hand from his shoulder and stood up, glaring at Draco.
  His voice had risen to a pitch that even the Hufflepuffs at the end of the
  room couldn't ignore. Still pointing his finger, he yelled at Draco, "First,
  you steal my best friend, Malfoy. Now, you're trying to worm your way into
  the Gryffindor area and steal my girlfriend!"
  Draco put his hands up in a gesture of truce. "I'm not trying to steal
  anything, Weasley. I'm just eating lunch."
  "Bullshit!" screamed Ron. His anger had finally taken over his logic. He
  grabbed Draco by the collar and yanked him to his feet. "All right, Malfoy,
  let's settle this once and for all," he said, balling his fingers into fists.
  "This is ridiculous, Weasley. I'm not fighting you," Draco said in a calm
  tone. He folded his arms across his chest and gave Ron a blank look.
  "The hell you aren't," Ron yelled and pulled his fist back. But, before his
  fist could meet with Draco's face, Hermione stepped between them. She wasn't
  able to do anything but register shock before Ron accidentally knocked her
  out cold.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 21 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 21 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 21: Repercussions
  To say that Hermione was mad was a definite understatement. Hermione Granger
  was usually the mediator and all around peacemaker of the trio. But, today
  she felt a new role suited her mood better. After all, all the world's a
  stage. Right? Her first move after leaving the infirmary was to break up with
  Ron. Sure, she had to admit that she loved the git, but he really needed to
  grow up. She always felt that the first step to growing up was to let bygones
  be bygones. Once Ron was able to do this, then perhaps there would be a
  future for them. Until then, well he would just have to suffer. Hopefully,
  miserably. From the look on his face when she used a few choice, colorful
  words to tell him to sod off, he would be doing exactly that.
  Unfortunately, Hermione's decision to dump Ron was quickly placing a damper
  on Harry and Draco's relationship. Now that Hermione no longer had Ron to
  spend time with, it seemed she relied on Harry's companionship even more.
  Harry could tell Draco was beginning to get rather perturbed about this, but
  he wouldn't say anything because he knew how Harry felt about Hermione. After
  all, he once told Draco that the only family he felt he had in the world
  weren't even blood relatives. They consisted of: Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and
  now Draco. Draco couldn't help but to feel pleased about this remark, and
  even though Hermione was becoming a clichd third wheel, he wasn't going to
  complain. He also couldn't help but to feel somewhat pleased about the
  situation Ron was placed in. Hermione was ignoring him because of his
  sophomoric behavior at breakfast (although Draco was sure she was also quite
  pissed about being practically bitch-slapped in front of the entire school),
  and Harry was ignoring him for his treatment of his truly. If anyone deserved
  the silent treatment, it was Weasely. He had tried to bury the hatchet, even
  if it was only for Harry's sake, but Weasely refused to be mature about the
  situation.
  Unfortunately, whenever the wonder trio had an argument, the entire house
  became involved. It seemed everyone had taken sides. Ginny of course sided
  with her brother, along with Seamus who quite noticeably had a crush on the
  youngest Weasely. Dean, not wanting to upset his best friend, of course
  followed suit. There were actually quite a few Gryffindors who sided with
  Ron. After all, Draco Malfoy had chosen the Gryffindor house to despise and
  mistreat the most. Now the Great Hall actually seemed to be divided into five
  houses instead of four. The Gryffindor table was split like two football
  teams on a gridiron. One side was pro-Ron; the other was pro-Harry. Draco,
  unfortunately being the object of the Gryffindor chaos, chose to stay in
  neutral territory, at the Slytherin table. Talk about irony. He had tried to
  get Harry to sit with him at his table several times, but Harry refused. He
  said he was going to play this little drama out to the bitter end. Of course,
  Draco was irritated about this, but he had to admire Harry's stubbornness.
  The Gryffindor Civil War, or so it was dubbed, unfortunately also placed a
  damper on the entire school. It would seem that everyone relied on the
  Gryffindor's happiness to dictate their own. After all, the Gryffindors
  seemed to be the strongest in personality, and when they were in bad moods,
  their moods seemed to culminate into one gigantic storm cloud that hung over
  the entire school. As if that wasn't symbolic enough, spring had finally
  sprung and brought with it a tempest that rivaled the Gryffindor war. It
  seemed like the rain was never going to end. Unfortunately Quidditch was
  postponed yet again until the rain stopped. After all, nobody wanted to play
  in the rain, or worse yet the lightning.
  In the library, the new Hogwart's trio, Harry, Draco, and Hermione were
  studying for their NEWT's. Actually, it was more at Hermione's insistence,
  since the boys could both think of better things to do on a rainy day. She
  had had them in the library all day that day, thinking studying was a better
  alternative to wallowing in depression. Although Harry and Draco knew she
  wouldn't admit it, she was beginning to give up on any type of reconciliation
  with Ron, and she wasn't taking it very well. So, the boys put up with her
  anal-retentive behavior despite the fact that it was causing a bit of tension
  between them. Sure, they were getting along as well as ever, but with
  Hermione's constant presence and vigilance, they hadn't really had a chance
  to be alone since the day the Gryffindor split had occurred. Any intimacies
  between them had to be rendered to simple handholding underneath the library
  table. Being virile teenage boys who had tasted the sweetness of physical
  pleasure with one another simply once, they were both beginning to get a
  little edgy.
  Finally, when Madame Pince decided they had exceeded the limit of after-hour
  library time she afforded to choice students, Harry and Draco decided enough
  was enough. Walking from the library, Harry turned to Hermione, "Herm, I know
  you probably want to study some more in the common room, but if you don't
  mind, we'd like to do something else."
  Hermione blinked and smiled innocently. "Sure Harry, whatever you two want to
  do. I'll be happy to let you pick for once. But, honestly, I think we should
  use this time to prepare for the NEWT's. They are the most important tests
  we'll ever take, you know."
  Harry sighed. Clearly Hermione hadn't got the point. "Well, you see. . .
  Hermione . . ."
  Although Draco believed Harry was adorable when he stuttered with
  embarrassment, he knew the situation required more force. "Hermione," he said
  placing his hand on her shoulder and pulling her gaze toward him. He tried to
  be diplomatic, but the tension was clear in his gaze and stature. "You know
  we think the NEWT's are important. We've been studying for ages. But, it's
  Saturday - date night, and Harry and I have been studying so hard we haven't
  had much time together. Understand?"
  Hermione did understand. "Oh gees, you two. I never realized. . ." she
  blushed a shade of beetroot that was clearly unbecoming. "Christ, you should
  have said something. I've been tagging along with you two like we're attached
  at the hips or something. I never wanted to be a distraction."
  Harry didn't like the look Hermione was giving them. He could tell she was
 trying to be logical, but there was hurt in her eyes when the realization hit
  her that hurt him as well. Draco felt bad too because he suddenly seemed
  fascinated with his shoelaces. "Aw, Herm. You're not a distraction. We love
  spending time with you. Right, Draco?" he asked, giving Draco a look that
  meant he better agree or else.
  "Of course we do. I mean, you're like family to us - to me. I know that's not
  saying much, considering the bastard my father is, but Harry and I both
  consider you our sister. It's just that it's Saturday and we're all tired of
  studying. Even you, I can tell."
  Hermione nodded. "You got a point there, Draco. All right, you two go and
  have fun. I have a couple of letters I need to write anyway," she said
  smiling. Draco's admission of friendliness, even kinship with her, had
  uplifted her mood somewhat. "But, I want both of you back at the library at
  nine a.m. sharp tomorrow. Do you hear me?"
  "Yes, ma'am," they said in unison before Harry grabbed Draco by the elbow and
  drug him down the hall. When Draco realized Harry was headed for the dungeon,
  he had to pull back. "Uh, Harry, we can't go down there."
  "Why not?"
  "Because it's Beltane, Harry."
  "It's what?"
  "Beltane. It's a pagan holiday that all the Slytherins decided to celebrate a
  long time ago."
  Harry looked confused. "I didn't know the Slytherins were pagan."
  Draco laughed and shook his head at Harry's naivety. "Most of them aren't,
  really. They just see it as an excuse to party. It's supposed to be a
  celebration of growth and fertility, but they use it as an excuse for some
  pretty wild behavior."
  "Oh, you mean they get drunk and act like idiots, right?"
  "Well, yea. But, let's just say that a lot of them like to celebrate in a
  more. . .uh, base manner."
  "You mean, sexual, right? Well, that's no big deal. You have your own room,
  we can hide out there," Harry said, seemingly quite pleased with himself.
  "Harry, I'm only going to tell you this once. Unless you want to join in on a
  full blown orgy in the middle of the common room floor, I suggest you think
  of a better place for us to go."
  Harry reddened to a shade that outshined the blush Hermione had given earlier
  tenfold. "Alright, I gotcha, Draco. I guess. . . I guess we could go to the
  Gryffindor dorm."
  "Are you sure?" Draco asked. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to walk into
  the Gryffindor dorm during the state of upheaval it was now in.
  "Yea, the typical Gryffindor response to things they don't like is to ignore
  it. Even Ron has now committed himself to the silent treatment. Besides, they
  usually spend Saturdays talking filth in the common room until all hours of
  the morning. They probably won't even notice us walk in.
  Harry was right. The boys in the common room were so engrossed in one of
  Seamus' tawdry tales of sheer fantasy, they hadn't even seen the pair enter
  the boys' dormitory. When the door shut behind them, Harry gave into the
  tension that had been pulling on them for several days. Pushing Draco onto
  his bed, he began ripping at the Slytherin's clothes as if they weren't made
  of the most expensive material they were. Draco didn't seem to mind the
  attack on his attire however, because he began undressing Harry in a similar
  fashion. Finally, when both boys were completely unclad, Harry pulled the
  curtains of the bed closed.
  "Mmmmph," Draco said beneath Harry's mouth, "this bed is really small,
  Potter."
  "Good," Harry replied, sucking on Draco's lower lip, "that means we'll have
  no choice but to be close." He situated his body on top of Draco's and
  shuddered at the ecstasy created by the heat of skin-on-skin. Their erections
  were now smashed against each other, and he delighted in the feel of Draco
  throbbing against him. Unconsciously, he rocked his hips, creating the
  friction they both desired. They had waited too long for this moment, so
  there was no thought of patience or slowness. They both simply had to have
  each other as soon as possible. There would be time for endearment and
  consideration later.
  Draco was clearly in the same state as Harry because his hips began bucking
  wildly against Harry's. "Oh, God, Harry, faster!" he cried in utter
  abandonment. Harry cried out as well, but he had no idea what he said,
  considering he was completely lost in the throes of passion. The pace picked
  up until they were writhing against each other at a speed that neither knew
  the other possessed. The heat within the confines of the curtains was so
  sultry that when a blast of cool air hit their bodies, it shocked them both
  to a standstill. Green and silver eyes looked up into fiery brown ones. Ron
  Weasely had pulled the curtain and was now staring at them with a mixture of
  shock and downright loathing. "WHAT THE FUCK!!!??" he yelled. His
  astonishment had rooted not only his feet to the floor, but his eyes on the
  naked boys, naked aroused boys, in the bed.
  Although it didn't seem to be a rhetorical question, Harry answered anyway.
  "Ron, I can explain. . ."
  "I don't think there needs to be any explanation, Potter!" Ron screamed. "I
  can't believe this. You shirk my friendship for this . ." he flung his hand
  toward Draco, "bastard, and now I find out you're fucking him. You disgust
  me. I should have known you were a bloody faggot!" With that retort flung
  over his shoulder, Ron stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
  Harry looked down at Draco, who was still beneath him. "Oh, fuck," he said.
  "You got that right, Harry," Draco replied.
  "Shit, so what do we do now?"
  "Well," said Draco reaching out and pulling the curtain back around the bed,
  "there's no use getting upset about something we can't change, is there?" he
  asked logically with a grin. Harry smiled and leaned down to kiss the
  Slytherin beneath him. His arousal was returning rather quickly.
  "I have two words for you, though, Harry," Draco said when Harry's mouth
  began moving down the slope of his neck.
  "What's that?" Harry asked, pausing for a moment.
  "Silencing charm," Draco said and arched his neck back up for the Gryffindor
  to devour with his lips.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 22 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 22 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 22: Discovery
  "You do realize we're in deep shit," Draco said after the inevitable post-
  coital high had worn off.
  Harry rolled to his side to escape Draco's rather bony elbows, which seemed
  to jab him quite often in the too small bed. He looked into the beautiful
  silver eyes of his lover and noticed the trepidation they wore. "I don't
  think we have to worry. Ron may be an arse at times, but he has some logic.
  He knows blabbing would hurt us, so I don't think he'll say anything."
  "Really, Potter?" Harry grimaced at the use of his surname. "Who would it
  really hurt if the school found out about us? Would it hurt you in any way?"
  Harry thought a moment. "Not really. I mean, other than being jibed for being
  gay and sleeping with my former enemy . . . no. Eventually everyone would get
  over The Boy-Who-Lived becoming The Boy-Who-Loved-Boys." He smiled, hoping
  his joke would alter the mood of the Slytherin lying next to him. "Or, better
  yet: The Boy-Who-Shagged-Draco Malfoy-As-Much-As-Possible."
  "Make jokes about it, Harry," Draco sighed. "I don't think you're seeing my
  point. If my father finds out about this, I'm worm food. Worse yet, he might
  see this as an advantage."
  "What do you mean?"
  Draco sighed again. Sometimes Harry could be unbelievably stupid. "Harry, my
  father's been trying to get me to hurt you since he found out we were going
  to school together. This would give him the prime opportunity and advantage
  to become the Dark Lord's favored. If he knows you have feelings for me, then
  he'll want me to use those feelings to hurt you, or worse yet, kill you."
  Harry contemplated this for a moment. "You're right, of course. But, that's
  only if he finds out. Like I said, I don't think Ron will say anything. He
  may be pissed at me right now, but he would never hurt me."
  Draco shook his head. "No, I don't think he would either, but you're
  forgetting something."
  "What?"
  Draco's eyes captured Harry's in a locked gaze. "I'm not exactly his favorite
  person. He may not want to hurt you, but he'd gladly hurt me in a
  millisecond, taking further anguish into consideration afterward."
  Harry lay on his back for a few minutes thinking alongside his lover, whose
  elbows were yet again jabbing him in the side. Finally, he came upon an idea.
  Leaning up, he looked down at the silver-haired Slytherin. "Alright, this is
  what we do. . ."
  "You better have a good idea, Harry because if you spout off with more
  nonsense . . ."
  "No, this is brilliant," Harry said, deciding to ignore the doubtful look
  Draco shot at him. "I'll admit, you probably are my biggest weakness, but
  what is Ron's?"
  It took Draco very little time to respond. "Hermione," he said, a hopeful
  glint in his eye emerging.
  "Right, and if there's anything Ron wants, it's to please Hermione. Because
  if he does . . ."
  ". . . then maybe she'll come back to him," Draco cut in, the hope aware in
  his voice now. "Yea, but do you think she'll talk to him? She's pretty
  pissed."
  It was Harry's turn to shake his head at Draco's stupidity. "Of course she
  will, love. If Hermione's anything, it's a good friend. She wouldn't want to
  see either one of us hurt. We'll talk to her in the morning. After all, she's
  meeting us in the library at nine sharp."
  "Can't we talk to her now?"
  "No, it's . . ." Harry looked at his snitch clock, "four a.m. Hermione sleeps
  like a log, We'd never be able to wake her up anyway. It can wait until
  tomorrow."
  "Fine," Draco said, "but we'd better hope Weasely doesn't say anything before
  then."
  True to her word, Hermione was in the library at nine o'clock. In fact, she
  had been there for over two hours already. She had decided to skip breakfast
  in order to get some studying done as early as possible. Draco and Harry were
  also up early. They had both shown up to breakfast in order to see if there
  was any sign that Ron had blabbed about them. Luckily, no one seemed to be
  aware of anything out of the ordinary. Ron had been at breakfast, but the
  only acknowledgement he gave them of their relationship was to glare daggers
  at them throughout the meal.
  When the two arrived in the library, Hermione seemed quite glad to see them.
 "Great, you two are on time. I thought we would start with History of Magic,
  since that's both your worse subject, and then move into Transfiguration.
  Then, we can . . ."
  "Um, Herm," Harry interrupted.
  Hermione stopped mid-sentence. "What is it, Harry? Don't tell me you two want
  to take today off, too. After all, we only have about two months before
  NEWT's and . . ."
  "Herm!" Harry yelled to gain her attention. Madame Pince hissed at them from
  her desk, so he lowered his voice. "Herm, I think Draco and I got into a
  little bit of trouble last night."
  Hermione sat down. From the look of Harry's expression, he was going to ask
  her to sit down anyway. "What happened?" she asked, looking back and forth
  from Harry to Draco.
  Harry and Draco sat down on the opposite side of the table. "Well, you see ..
  . Last night, Draco and I . . ." Harry stammered, slowly turning into an
  impossible shade of red.
  Draco decided to cut to the chase. "Harry and I were caught in a compromising
  position last night."
  Hermione looked confused. "What do you mean `compromising'?"
  Draco decided then that Gryffindors were just naturally dense. "We were
  screwing, Hermione. Well, not actually screwing, but humping like rabbits
  anyway."
  The shade of Hermione's face was now winning the contest against Harry's.
  "Oh," her mouth held the "O" much longer than was necessary. "I-I didn't know
  you did that. . . I know you two are a couple, but . . .I mean, I didn't know
  you were doing . . . Oh."
  Draco looked at Harry, who seemed to be relying on him to explain. "Yes,
  Granger, we do do that. And, we do it rather well, if I might say so." He
  said, smirking at Harry who had just won the blue ribbon.
  "You don't need to explain. Graphic memory. . . I really don't want to
  picture what you two do behind closed doors," Hermione said, her shock
  wearing off.
  "Well, closed curtains would be more like it, I guess," Draco said, trying to
  be humorous but failing miserably. "Your friend Weasely decided to get a free
  show."
  "Oh, shit!"
  "That's what I said," said Harry. Now that the awkward part of the story was
  over, he finally decided to speak in coherent sentences.
  "So, what do you do, now?" Hermione asked.
  "Well, not us, Hermione. I was hoping," Harry corrected himself when Draco
  coughed, "We were hoping you would talk to him. You know, convince him to
  keep quiet."
  Hermione didn't like where this was heading. "Why would I have to do this?"
  "Well, everyone knows the Weasel still has the hots for you," Draco said in
  his usual uncouth way.
  Hermione was getting the picture. "You mean, you want me to play up his
  feelings for me in order to keep his mouth shut. You're forgetting something.
  I am completely and utterly pissed off at that red-headed git at the moment,
  and I'm not likely to get over it very soon."
  Harry's voice was gaining a pleading edge to it. "We know, Herm. We wouldn't
  ask you to do this if it wasn't necessary, but if anyone finds out, we're in
  a heap of trouble. I mean, everything that happens here eventually gets back
  to Draco's father. Do you know what would happen if he found out?"
  Hermione wasn't a stupid girl, despite Draco's earlier gleanings. "I know. I
  understand. I'll do it."
  "Thanks, Herm." Harry said, hugging her across the table. Hermione was taken
  aback when Draco hugged her, too; although, his thanks was slightly muffled
  and absolutely incoherent.
  Hermione got up to find Ron. "I'm going to do this, but I'll have you know I
  don't like it a bit," she chastised before exiting the library.
  About fifteen minutes later, she returned. "He won't say anything," she said
  simply and buried her nose in her History of Magic textbook. The boys looked
  at each other happily, but their happiness soon faded when Hermione said,
  "Page three hundred and twelve, the third rising of the Goblin King. Binns
  warned us this was going to be on the test . . .".
  Pansy Parkinson placed the book she had been pretending to read back on the
  shelf before she slipped out from behind the bookcases she had been listening
  through. She had a lot to do. After all, it was quite a lot of work keeping
  the school abreast of the latest gossip. Not only that, she had a certain
  Master to inform as well. On the way down the hall away from the library, her
  ego raised a few notches. At least now she knew Draco Malfoy hadn't rejected
  her because she wasn't pretty enough. She simply just wasn't the right sex.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 23 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 23 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 23: Absolution
  When Hermione, Harry, and Draco walked into the Great Hall for lunch, the
  world stopped spinning on its axis. Harry couldn't remember ever hearing such
  silence. He remembered a science teacher he once had back in Whinnery
  explaining that there was no such thing as real silence. Too bad that science
  teacher wasn't here now, because his theory would have been blown all to
  hell. It only took a quick survey of the room for the trio to realize that
  the secret was out. Looking at Draco, Harry watched the blonde boy square his
  shoulders for the inevitable. Draco grabbed Harry and Hermione by their robes
  and pulled them to the Gryffindor table. They seated themselves at the far
  end of the table, which seemed to be reserved for them, since it all but
  resembled a deserted island. Once seated, the silence was broken as everyone
  began talking to one another simultaneously behind open hands. Harry felt for
  certain he heard the words "fag" and "ponce" whispered several times.
  The only good thing Harry could surmise from the situation was that the
  Gryffindor's Civil War no longer seemed to be going on. If anything, the
  Gryffindors seemed to be united again. Unfortunately, they all seemed to be
  united against he, Draco and Hermione. It would seem that Hermione had been
  included as the enemy since she had walked in with them. Harry looked at
  Draco who was wearing his mask of indifference. Only Harry could read the
  nervousness that lay deep within the silver depths of the Slytherin's eyes.
  "Well, I guess it would have to come out sooner or later, right?"
  "Yea, but I was hoping it would be later rather than sooner," mumbled Draco,
  who was grimacing at his rune soup, the wizard variation of the alphabet soup
  that every Muggle kid known to man probably had eaten at one time or another.
  While Harry and Draco seemed to be mostly worried about the outed secret,
  Hermione was enraged. "I'll kill him," she said in a voice that reflected her
  death threat. "I can't believe him. He promised me he wouldn't say anything,
  the bastard!" She was glaring at the red-haired Weasely at the far end of the
  table with unmitigated anger.
  Surprisingly, it was Draco who tried to calm her down. "Don't bother,
  Granger. It's not worth it. Harry and I knew this time would come at some
  point. I think we need to be worrying about what will happen when the Death
  Eater community inevitably finds out, not Hogwart's."
  Hermione looked back and forth from Harry to Draco. "Okay, so what do we do?"
  she asked, hoping one of them would have an idea for once.
  "We go to Professor Dumbledore," Harry replied.
  "And to Uncle Severus," Draco added.
  Hermione nodded. "Okay, that's as good a plan as any." She glared back down
  the table at Ron. "But, first we have a few words with a certain Weasely I
  once dated."
  Since the Gryffindors were giving them a wide berth, it wasn't easy to corner
  Ron. They were finally able to get him alone, however, when he entered the
  boy's lavatory on the main floor. The three entered about twenty seconds
  behind the redhead, Hermione put a locking charm on the door, and they waited
  for him to leave his stall. When he finally did, he gawked at them with
  disbelief. "What the hell do you want? This is a boy's lou!" he said gazing
  at Hermione.
  Hermione crossed her arms and stared at her ex-boyfriend calmly. "Well, among
  other things, I would most like to know why you broke your promise, Ronald
  Weasely." She said, staring him down. "You said you wouldn't breathe a word
  about Harry and Draco."
  "I didn't," Ron said, shaking his head vehemently. "I swear, I didn't tell
  anyone."
  "Right, Weasely. That's why the whole school's treating us like lepers,
  right?" Draco drawled, smirking in a way that gave Harry a feeling of de ja
  vu.
  Ron shot a glance of hatred toward Draco, but decided to answer his question
  anyway. "I don't know how they know, but I didn't say a word, honest." He
  said, glancing from the blonde to the raven-haired boy, to the bushy haired
  witch. Suddenly, Harry realized Ron was telling the truth. Not only could he
  see it in his eyes, but he also knew Ron would never lie about anything. He
  had always faced up to the music when he had done something wrong. Now wasn't
  any different.
  Hermione must have realized this as well, because she gave him a look of
  bafflement. "Fine, if you didn't, who did?" she asked.
  "I really don't know," Ron replied "I mean, I know I was pretty pissed off
  about what I saw last night," he grimaced when the memory hit him, "but, I
  really would never do anything that would hurt Harry. I mean, he's been . .
  ." he turned to Harry, "You've been my best friend for seven years, after
  all."
 Harry was quite shocked at what Ron said. "Right, I've been your best friend
  for a long time. That's why you picked a fight with Draco and then turned my
  own house against me."
  Ron couldn't meet Harry's eyes when he said this. He swallowed and looked
  guiltily at the wall above Harry's head. "Shit, Harry. I know I've been a
  right arse, but I've never not thought of you as my best friend. I don't
  know. I guess I felt . . .betrayed. Suddenly you were spending more time with
  Malfoy of all people than me. I mean, he's our enemy, for Gods` sake."
  "Not anymore," Draco replied, leaning his back against the lavatory wall. His
  face was wearing that mask again, so Harry wasn't quite sure what he was
  feeling at that moment.
  "Ron, Draco has been trying his best to get along with you. I mean, he and
  Hermione have even become friends. Right, Herm?" Hermione nodded an
  affirmative. "I never said anything to you when you and Hermione were
  spending all of that time together, now did I?"
  "That's different, Hermione is. . was my girlfriend." Ron began.
  "No, it's not," Harry interrupted in a flat voice. "Draco's my boyfriend."
  Ron swallowed quiet visibly at this. It was one thing seeing it, he could
  convince himself it may have been an illusion brought on by too much
  alcoholic butterbeer, but when Harry admitted it in that voice, he had to
  accept it as the truth. "Fine, you're dating. Despite what I said last night,
  I really have nothing against gays, Harry, but I have to admit, it threw me
  for a loop. I mean, what about Cho?"
  "Cho has known about my sexual preferences for over a year now," Harry
  admitted.
  This time it was Hermione's turn to register shock. "You mean, you told Cho
  before you told me?" she asked, the hurt evident in the tone of her voice.
  Harry shrugged. "Yea, well, she was the one who I was supposed to be
  kissing."
  "Point taken," Hermione said simply. She then sighed rather heavily and
  looked back and forth between Harry and Ron. "So does this mean we're all
  friends again?" she asked hopefully.
  Ron nodded and Harry grunted an affirmative. Draco, feeling isolated from the
  proceedings, decided to speak up. "That's fine and all, but where does that
  leave me?"
  Harry pulled the Slytherin away from the wall and placed a comforting arm
  around his shoulder. "You happen to fit quite nicely right here," he said
  smiling down at the silver-haired boy who was now smiling rather shyly back
  at him.
  Ron tried to stifle his gagging but wasn't quite successful. "I know you care
  about him, Harry, but are you sure he's trustworthy?" he asked, giving Draco
  a suspicious look.
  "Perfectly sure," Harry said.
  Ron wasn't, however. "Just what do you get out of this, Malfoy?" he asked,
  "Why are you suddenly so interested in a romantic relationship with Harry?"
  Draco Malfoy looked into Ron's eyes and said with a steady voice, "That's
  easy, Weasely. I love him." He then jerked his gaze to Harry who had grabbed
  a hold on his robes. "What are you doing?"
  Harry's grabbed more of Draco's robes, tightening his grip. "I'm holding you
  here. You have a really bad habit of flinging confessions at me and then
  running away."
  Draco laughed. "I'm not going anywhere, Potter," he said, grabbing Harry's
  hands and forcing them to release his robes.
  Ron coughed, gaining the three's attention. "Alright, Malfoy. I guess you do
  have your reasons. I don't like you, though, you know that, right?"
  "Of course. I can't say that I like you much either," the Slytherin drawled.
  "But, I guess I can try to be civil. Maybe someday," Ron said, rolling his
  eyes in disbelief, "someday, in the very distant future, we can be friends.
  But, until then, the least I can do is offer a truce," he said, holding his
  hand out for Draco to shake.
  Draco hesitated at first, but then shook Ron's hand. "Fine, we're not enemies
  anymore. But, I'm only doing this for Harry."
  "I know," Ron said. When Draco had admitted he was in love with Harry, there
  was no denying the emotion. The Slytherin had let his mask slip for an
  instant, and Ron had seen the feelings his eyes had contained. "I guess I
  should apologize for . . .Well, for everything," he said, glancing at the
  floor. He then mumbled almost inaudibly, "I'm sorry."
  "Yea, well, I'm sorry too, Weasely." Draco said, feeling the weight of a
  seven-year rivalry fall from his shoulders.
  Ron put his hand on Draco's shoulder, and after removing the locking spell
  from the door and pushing Draco ahead of him, he said, "So, Malfoy, you're
  pretty bright. Do you play chess?" Hermione and Harry looked at each other
  and shrugged before following after them.
  It wasn't until several chess games later that Draco realized Harry hadn't
  said he loved him back.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 24 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 24 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 24: Plans
  Draco would like to know all of the tricks Professor Dumbledore had up his
  sleeve. It would seem that for such an outwardly seeming scatterbrain, he had
  an uncanny ability for cutting to the chase. Harry seemed to be quite aware
  of the Headmaster's ability, since he wasn't surprised when Dumbledore called
  them to his office. After six chess games with Ronald Weasely, the meeting
  with the headmaster was welcome. Weasely had beaten him, marginally of
  course, at all six games, and Draco was trying to forestall the fact that he
  would have to admit that the Gryffindor was more superior than him at
  something.
  When they were admitted into the Headmaster's office, Draco was surprised to
  see his uncle there. By the grim expression on his countenance, well, grimmer
  than usual, he could tell there was bad news. He and Harry sat down in the
  two chairs offered to them, and after declining candy from the headmaster,
  the meeting started. "Well, Harry, Draco, you're probably wondering why I
  called you here, right?" Professor Dumbledore asked. His eyes weren't
  twinkling like they normally were. Instead, he fixed them with a gaze that
  seemed very serious indeed. The boys nodded the affirmative. "It seems we
  have quite a situation on our hands, boys. I think you know what I mean."
  The boys nodded again. "Harry, Draco, first I want you to know that your
  relationship is completely acceptable to me. In fact, I believe it has been
  forthcoming for some time." The boys were shocked. They didn't think the
  headmaster would have been prejudiced in any way, but the news that he may
  have known how they felt even before they did was quite astounding. He
  continued, "The problem is, boys, it seems we have a spy for the dark side in
  our midst."
  Of course, this wasn't news to them either. After all, someone had to have
  let the cat out of the bag, and since it obviously wasn't Ron, there had to
  be a mystery person lurking somewhere. "We know, Professor," Harry said. "The
  problem is, we have no idea who this person could be."
  Professor Snape sighed. "Well, we were hoping one of you would have an idea.
  To be honest, we have absolutely no clue ourselves," he said, glancing at the
  headmaster.
  Dumbledore shook his head sadly. He knew quite a bit about the going on's of
  the school, but it was impossible to know everything. "You see, Draco, I just
  received an owl from your father. He wants you to come home."
  Draco only nodded. He had been expecting this. Harry, however, was upset.
  "Headmaster, you can't let that happen. If Draco goes home, something
  terrible will happen!" he cried in dismay. His jade eyes were suddenly very
  shiny, as if he were about to cry in frustration.
  "I know that Harry," Dumbledore said. "I don't plan on letting Draco go home.
  However, his father has complete control over him. After all, he is only
  seventeen years old." Wizards could practice magic openly at seventeen, but
  they still weren't considered adults and their own keepers until they were
  eighteen.
  "I'm not going home," Draco stated suddenly. He eyed the headmaster with
  determination. "There's no way I'm going back there. I don't care about
  myself; it's Harry I'm worried about. Now that my father knows about us, he's
  in more danger than I am." Draco seemed to be getting angrier by the minute.
  He paused a few seconds to try to keep his Malfoy temper at a low boil. "He's
  especially in danger if my father has rein over me. I don't want him using my
  feelings for Harry in any way. He's like a vulture; if he sees a weakness,
  he'll pick at it until it's dead."
  Harry grimaced at Draco's analogy. "Draco's right, Headmaster, we are each
  other's greatest weaknesses. We can't let Lucius come here and take him back
  to Malfoy Manor. If that happens, one or both of us is going to wind up
  dead."
  "I realize that, Harry," Dumbledore said, "The problem is, Lucius Malfoy
  plans on coming here first thing in the morning, and I don't think he plans
  on leaving without his son."
  "So, you're just going to give him to him?" Harry cried, standing up. Tears
  were starting to well up in his eyes now. Seeing Harry's emotional state,
  Professor Snape pushed him back down in his chair with surprising gentleness.
  With his hand still on Harry's shoulder and with a tone that was much softer
 than usual, Snape replied, "We don't plan on giving Draco to his father,
  Harry. That's why we called you two here. The headmaster and I have come up
  with a plan to keep both of you away from Lucius."
  "Why didn't you say that before?" Draco asked sarcastically.
  Snape gave his nephew a glare that shut him up rather quickly. "When your
  father comes here tomorrow, Professor Dumbledore is going to tell him that
  you two ran away together. If you're not here, or if he thinks you're not
  here, he can't really take Draco home."
  "That's an idea, but where will we go?" Harry asked.
  Dumbledore looked at Harry. "You will be residing where you should be
  residing, Harry, in Godric Gryffindor's suite." Harry had found out long ago
  that he was the heir of Gryffindor, so this did not come as news to him.
  Draco, however, had no idea, and he was now eyeing Harry with an astonished
  look. "Severus and I have placed protective wards on the room, so you should
  be completely safe. You will be receiving private lessons from your
  professors in that room. You will take your meals in that room, and you will
  not leave that room."
  Although the boys were at first excited about getting to share a living
  quarters, the excitement soon dissipated when they realized it was to be
  their prison for an indefinite amount of time. "We can't come out at all?"
  Draco asked.
  "Not with a spy at Hogwart's, Draco," Severus said, aware of his nephew's
  plight. "When we find out who the spy is, if we find out who the spy is, than
  maybe you will have some freedom. Until then, I'm sorry to say that you're
  stuck in this predicament."
  "Yes, boys. It's too bad we don't know of a way for you to move about the
  grounds unnoticed," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes. The boys
  grinned at one another. It would seem that the Headmaster was giving them
  permission to use the invisibility cloak whenever they wanted. Maybe it
  wouldn't be too bad being in hiding after all.
  "We will of course alert Miss Granger and Mr. Weasely of your predicament.
  We, however, cannot alert anyone from Slytherin, though, Draco." Dumbledore
  said. Usually, Draco would be offended at this slur on Slytherin, but he had
  to admit, if there were a spy at Hogwart's, it would most likely be a
  Slytherin. So, he didn't say anything.
  Severus led the boys up a winding staircase to one of the many towers in the
  castle. When they stopped at the door, the boys noticed a painting of a young
  shepherdess tending her flock. "Password, please," the shepherdess asked
  sweetly. "Ton-tongue toffees," Snape said. "Professor Dumbledore came up with
  the password," he said, shrugging at the boys. The room was decorated in
  Gryffindor colors. It was much more luxurious than the Gryffindor dorm,
  however. The walls were covered in crimson silk with a gold brocade trim. The
  carpeting was of a similar shade of crimson, and their feet sank in its
  softness when they walked across it. In the middle of the room were two twin
  beds. The boys looked at each other and grinned. They could always move the
  beds together after Snape left.
  Snape showed them the adjoining lavatory, which held a large claw-footed tub
  with a shower. Draco was especially delighted at this. He had always
  preferred long, lazy baths instead of the showers he was forced to take in
  the Slytherin dorms. Dragging them out of the bathroom, back into the main
  room, Snape opened the drawers of a mahogany chest in the corner and showed
  them the supply of robes and other clothing that was folded neatly there.
  "Why can't we wear our own clothes?" Draco asked, puzzled.
  "You just ran away, Draco, did you bring any clothes with you?" Draco's uncle
  asked rhetorically.
  "You mean this is it? We're to start living here now?" Harry asked.
  "Yes," Snape replied shortly. "I should be going. I have a class tomorrow to
  prepare for, after all." He walked across the room to leave. "By the way," he
  said before exiting, "A house elf will be bringing you dinner at the usual
  time." Then he was gone.
  When Snape had left, Draco flopped onto the bed and sighed. "You know,
  Harry," he said, looking up at the Gryffindor, "not that I don't love
  spending time with you or anything, but this really sucks."
  Harry lay down next to his boyfriend and leaned on his elbow to look the
  other boy in the face. "I know, Draco," he said, an almost evil glint in his
  eyes, "how ever will we spend our time?"
  Draco understood the implications in Harry's voice. "Well, I guess we could
  move the beds together," he replied.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 25 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 25 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 25: Bibliotherapy
  So far three days had passed since Harry and Draco had been banished to
  Godric Gryffindor's suite. Well, Harry liked to use the term "banished"
  because although he didn't mind his roommate one bit, it did feel as if they
  had been punished for something. So, here he was trying to write a letter to
  Cho and failing quite miserably. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to write or
  not, but Dumbledore did send him Hedwig; however, it was probably only so he
  could write to Sirius. Still, he knew Cho well enough to know she was no
  threat to him, and besides, he wasn't planning on telling her where he was
  anyway. So, there!
  Harry crumpled up yet another piece of parchment and threw it to the floor,
  laughing when he saw Draco stand up from his armchair, sigh, pick the ball of
  paper up, and throw it into the trash can. He had been doing that all
  morning. Draco's fastidiousness was no surprise to Harry since the Slytherin
  had always kept up an immaculate appearance, so it really didn't bother him.
  Although, it would be nice if Draco would stop folding their worn clothing
  before placing them in the dirty clothes hamper. He could tell Draco was
  getting a little stir crazy. After all, he had always had free reign to do as
  he pleased, even at the Malfoy Manor. Harry, however, was used to isolation
  after spending so many years with the Dursleys, especially since quite a few
  of those years he had inhabited a cupboard beneath the stairs. He also knew
  that it wouldn't be long before Draco's calm exterior cracked. He knew him
  enough by now to know how hot and cold the silver-haired boy's moods ran. It
  was clear that Draco was trying to remain in control for Harry's sake, but
  Harry could sense the restlessness that was threatening to break the seams of
  the Slytherin's temper.
  Draco was drumming his fingers now against the end table he was sitting by.
  Duh-DUM, Duh-DUM, Duh-DUM. It was a litany that was keeping Harry from
  writing any sort of coherent sentence. He decided to ignore it, but in his
  mind the drumming took on a voice: Bore-DOM, Bore-DOM, Bore-DOM. He crumpled
  up the paper and threw it in the trashcan this time. "Sit here," Harry said,
  patting the space beside him on the bed. He was sprawled out on his stomach,
  which was his usual writing stance. Draco got up and lay next to him,
  mimicking Harry's posture. Harry brushed a shock of silky silvery-blonde hair
  out of Draco's stormy eyes in order to see his expression. "What's wrong?"
  Draco shrugged, "I'm bored. You've been writing all morning. Well, trying to
  write anyway. I hate to say it, but you're my sole means of amusement in this
  prison."
  Harry looked hurt. "Is that bad?"
  Draco laughed at Harry's naivety. "No, it's not bad, Harry. I wouldn't want
  another roommate, honestly. I'm just getting cabin fever, is all. I mean, we
  sleep here, eat here, take our lessons here . . ."
  Harry nodded in understanding. "Hopefully it won't be too long, love. But
  until then, we'll just have to wait. Look at it in this light: when we leave
  here, you'll go back to your room, and I'll have to go back to my dorm."
  "I guess it doesn't sound too bad, then," Draco said with a smile. He flopped
  over on his back and looked at the ceiling. So, talk to me."
  "About what?"
  "I don't care. Anything."
  Harry scooted over so he could see the pale boy's face. "Alright then, I
  guess I could ask a question that's been on my mind. Perfect opportunity and
  all."
  "Go ahead, shoot," Draco said, still seemingly fascinated with the swirling
  patterns of the ceiling.
  Harry paused a second before asking, "Why was it so easy for you to make a
  truce with Ron? I know you, Draco, and I know you did it for me, but I didn't
  expect you to shake hands so easily."
  The Slytherin rolled over on his side, facing Harry. "Tell all the Truth, but
  tell it Slant," he quoted.
  "What?"
  Draco sighed. "You're so uncultured, Harry. It's a line from a poem by Emily
  Dickinson."
  "I know who Emily Dickinson is. She was the weirdo who locked herself up in
  her house for all those years." Harry said. "I just don't know why you're
  quoting a Muggle."
  "You don't really believe she was a Muggle, do you, Harry? I mean, the widow
  of Amherst? Think about it, dressed in white, a recluse, choosing her own
  society. She had to have been a witch."
  "Alright, maybe she was. Her life was very similar to Cedric the Strange, but
  explain what you mean."
  "Well, Dickinson explained that the truth should always be told gradually, a
  little at a time. If it's told all at once, it's too shocking, too upsetting.
  Usually, if the truth comes out too quickly, it's not accepted. It's called
  denial. In extreme cases, the truth is even attacked."
  "Okay, what does that have to do with anything?" Harry asked, puzzled.
  "Well, Weasely was shocked with quite a bit of truth when he caught us that
  night. . ."
  "So, he decided to attack it - us," Harry finished.
  "Right. It was an almost admirable what he did, offering his hand that day,
  so I wasn't about to turn him down," Draco admitted.
  "Hmmmm. Okay, that explains a lot. I do have to say, that you're acceptance
  of his hand was quite admirable as well, Draco. That was a lot of past
  prejudice you decided to let go," Harry said, rubbing Draco's shoulder when
  he blushed at the praise he received.
  "Yea well, what can I say? I guess you're a good influence on me."
  "So, when did you get to be such a philosopher, Draco? First the bible, now
 Dickinson. What's next?"
  Draco let out a silvery laugh. "Well, Harry. I could go on and on about
  Shakespeare if you'd like. Have you ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?"
  Dear Cho,
  First of all, I want you to know that I'm all right. You've probably heard
  through the grapevine that I've run away. Actually, Dumbledore has hidden me
  somewhere, somewhere safe. Unfortunately, I can't tell you where. You've
  probably also heard a lot of rumors about me. I really haven't heard any of
  these rumors myself, so I'm not sure what you've heard that is true and what
  isn't. I know I haven't written to you for a while, but a lot has happened.
  I've been writing you letter after letter, only to throw them away when I
  realize the words don't express the situation I'm in. You were right when you
  told me in one of your past letters that I was holding something back from
  you. I know you've been worried about me, but there's really nothing to worry
  about. I just had to run some things through my mind in order to piece them
  together.
  I just finished a conversation with Draco Malfoy. Yes, DRACO MALFOY. The
  truth is, we've been talking a lot. He seems to think that the truth should
  be told slowly, but I've never been one to beat around the bush, have I?
  Besides, I really don't know how to go slow about telling you about this.
  Actually, I'm being quite selfish because I'm telling you this in desperate
  hope that you will give me some advice. The truth is (insert scary
  foreshadowing music here) I've been in a romantic relationship with Draco
  since Christmas. Yes, the big crush I had, the person I wouldn't name, was
  Draco Malfoy. I'm asking you to put any past prejudices you have about him
  aside because he's not the same person you remember. I don't think he ever
  really was that person, to be honest.
  Unfortunately, recently someone at Hogwart's found out about us and not only
  blabbed to the whole school, but to Lucius Malfoy as well. That's why Draco
  and I are in hiding. If his father were to get ahold of him, I shudder to
  think what would happen to either or both of us. All I know is that I DO NOT
  want to give up Draco, and I will die to hold onto him if I have to.
  The thing I need advice about is love. How do you know when you're in love
  with someone, Cho? Draco recently admitted he was in love with me, and I had
  no answer for that. I have never had someone love me before, so I'm pretty
  inexperienced about the whole issue. I mean, my parents loved me, I'm sure,
  but I really don't remember them much. I know Ron, Hermione, you, and Sirius
  love me, but that's a different sort of love. How do you know? I've been
  sorting through my feelings these past few days a lot. Believe me, I've had
  ample time to do so. There are a few truths I've come up with:
  1. Draco is the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning.
  2. He's the last thing I think about before I go to sleep.
  3. When I am asleep, I dream about him, even if he is sleeping next to me.
  4. When he kisses me, I lose all coherent thought.
  5. When he's upset, it upsets me.
  6. He challenges me. Not only physically and emotionally, but intellectually
  as well.
  7. I don't think I'd survive if I ever lost him.
  I could add a few more things here, but I think you get the picture. Tell me,
  Cho, is it love? Because if it is, I'd like to be able to answer the question
  that I see in his eyes with an affirmative.
  I'm sorry about the seriousness of this letter, but I really don't know whom
  else to turn to. Hermione and Ron visit daily, but if I asked them, Ron would
  ignore the question (he is still having a little bit of a problem with the
  situation, even though he is trying to accept it), and Hermione would want to
  treat the question like an essay prompt. If the situation bothers you, you
  really don't have to reply; although, I think you will anyway.
  Love,
  A Very Confused Harry
  Dearest Harry,
  I'm really glad you decided to write to me after all this time. Considering
  what you wrote, I understand why it took you so long. I was getting worried,
  and I'm glad to hear you're okay. I have to say, Harry that was one of the
  most eloquent letters you've ever written. I think I'm going to keep it just
  in case you become famous someday. This way it will be worth a lot of money
  (my attempt at humor).
  As for your question, I really don't know how to answer. I wasn't surprised
  to hear who your object of affection is. I kind of had an inkling after the
  way you both acted at the Yule Ball. As far as the WHO, it really doesn't
  bother me. There's always more to someone than what meets the eye, so why
  should Draco Malfoy be any different? You've always had great taste in
  companions and good judgment of character, so I'm not going to second guess
  your choice of partners.
  I've written to you a lot about Ian Cameron, have I not? I also told you that
  we started dating after the Yule Ball. The jealousy thing really did work
  after all. All I know is that I am hopelessly and completely in love. I don't
  know if it happened gradually or suddenly, to be honest. All I know is that
  one day I woke up and the realization was there. The amount of time it was
  lurking in my subconscious, I don't know. I guess it showed itself to me when
  I felt I was ready to accept it. I don't know if your situation is similar or
  not; after all, I'm not you. I know you well, yes, but only you know yourself
  better than anyone else. All I can tell you is that I have the same symptoms
  you listed. The list was cute by the way, only you would make some type of
  logical, orderly list about a thing like that.
  Anyway, if you are in love with him, you will realize it. It may not be today
  or tomorrow, but when you are ready. The only advice I can give you is to not
  use the "L-word" until that realization comes. It will save not only you, but
  also Draco, a lot of hurt later on. I'm sorry I can't give you a "yes or no"
  answer. It's not as simple as that.
  Love always,
  Cho
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 26 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 26 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 26: Bestowment
  Draco bumped into Harry beneath the invisibility cloak, almost knocking him
  down. "Shit, Harry, sorry," he whispered. They were making their way out the
  front doors to get some air. After two weeks of being shut up in the suite,
  they had both decided to run the risk of being found out. It was now well
  after 2 A.M., and the only ones they needed to worry about were Filch and
  Mrs. Norris. Walking through the double doors of the front entrance, they
  both took in several gulps of much-needed fresh air before sneaking down to
  the lake. Here, they figured, they could take off the invisibility cloak,
  since it was some distance from the castle.
  Harry pulled the cloak off of them and flopped down in the tall grass on the
  shore of the lake. Draco took a seat beside him and they lay, holding hands,
  looking at the sky above. "Do you remember the first time we lay in this very
  spot?" Draco asked Harry. His voice took on that tone that was always
  reserved for gazing at the stars with the one you loved.
  "Yea, I seem to remember a certain Slytherin losing a wager that day," Harry
  said, chuckling. That day seemed so long ago to him, although it was only a
  matter of months. The Draco he knew back then seemed completely different
  from the Draco he knew now. "You thanked me that day, only the second time
  you ever thanked me for anything."
  "Well," Draco said, his voice taking on a soft drawl, "It seems like that was
  a beginning. I mean, I have a lot to thank you for now."
  "What? For, putting you in bad graces with your father, or for making you a
  prisoner of Hogwart's?" Harry asked, bitterness in his voice.
  "I was already in bad graces with my father, if you don't recall," Draco
  answered, "and I don't mind being a prisoner, as long as it keeps you safe."
  Harry leaned up on his elbows, resting his upper body on Draco's and gave him
  a thorough kiss. "I feel safe when I'm with you. I hope you feel the same
  way."
  Draco pulled the Gryffindors lips back down to his for several seconds, only
  pulling away when he ran out of air. "I do. I love you, Harry," he said, his
  eyes were storm gray now as they searched Harry's face for a reaction. This
  was really the first time he had told Harry this to his face. He had admitted
  it to Ron that day, but he had never directed the phrase to Harry one-on-one.
  It was more than a simple sentence consisting of three words; it was a
  milestone he had crossed. Feeling something and admitting something were two
  entirely different things, after all.
  Harry's body stiffened. He had been dreading this for some time, the time
  when Draco expressed his love to him alone. He was honored and touched by
  Draco's confession, but it also scared him because he wasn't sure if he could
  return it.
  Harry must have hesitated too long in his musings because Draco spoke up
  again. "It's okay if you don't feel the same way, Harry. I know you have
  feelings for me. You can tell me when you're ready," he said softly, although
  there was hurt evident in his eyes, eyes that expressed emotion to Harry
  alone. "I just want you to know that I do love you, though. In fact, I want
  to prove to you just how much."
  Harry looked down at Draco, surprised that he wasn't angry. Sometimes the
  Slytherin surprised him. Things that he often thought would make Draco angry
  rarely did, while things that he thought wouldn't usually set him off. "How
  do you plan on going about that?" Harry asked.
  If it hadn't been dark out, Harry may have seen a rare occurrence, a Malfoy
  blush. "I . . . I want to give you myself."
  "What?" Harry asked, his usual naivety in place.
  Draco decided to be blunt. "I want you inside of me, Harry."
  Harry blushed this time. "Are you sure? I mean, what if I hurt you?"
  "You won't," Draco said, pulling Harry on top of him. He kissed him then,
  wiping all reservations from the raven-haired boy's mind. With quite a bit of
  effort, he managed to peel the Gryffindor's clothes off. It was a difficult
  task since they were kissing madly, their body's lurching in a sensual
  rhythm. Harry rolled off his lover and completed the task of unbuttoning and
 unzipping him. They now lay on the banks of the lake, their naked bodies
  glowing ethereally in the moonlight.
  Harry's eyes appraised the beauty of Draco's nude form. No matter how many
  times he saw the silver-haired boy unclothed, he still couldn't stop trying
  to memorize every sculpted inch of him. Draco basked under the praising gaze
  of his lover for a few moments before pulling him back down to ravish his
  mouth. When he pulled away, it was only to plant feverish kisses slowly down
  the other boy's neck. Harry groaned softly as he did this.
  Both boys were aroused to a state of utter abandon by this time. Draco
  reached down Harry's body and curved his fingers around Harry's erection,
  sliding up and down slowly. Biting his lower lip, Harry's neck arched back as
  he moaned softly. He cupped Draco's face, intending on giving him a kiss, but
  Draco's head jerked to the side, and his lips pulled three of Harry's fingers
  into his mouth. His tongue spiraled around the digits causing a sensation
  Harry never felt before. Who would have thought the tips of your fingers
  could be an erogenous zone? When Draco's hand moved from Harry's erection to
  pull the Gryffindor between his raised knees, Harry used one of the now-wet
  fingers to lubricate the ring of muscle there. He hesitated only a moment
  before pushing the finger past the barrier. He slid his finger slowly in and
  out until he was sure Draco was used to the obstruction. The pale boy beneath
  him closed his eyes when another finger was inserted, this one sliding to the
  same rhythm as its partner.
  "Please, Harry," Draco pleaded. That was all Harry needed. He slid his
  fingers out of the blonde boy and replaced them with himself, sliding in
  slowly as the other boy got used to the length of him. Draco moaned rather
  loudly at the intrusion.
  "Am I hurting you?"
  "No. . . I mean, at first. But, it's fine now," Draco said, his eyes opening.
  His irises had taken on that stormy look they only got when in the midst of
  passion. "Please, go on."
  Harry began sliding rhythmically in and out of the tight opening. His eyes
  fluttered shut as he lost himself inside his lover. He had never felt
  anything so exquisite in his life. The body enveloping him was so hot, so
  tight, so right. After a short amount of time, Draco's hips began thrusting
  back underneath him. Both boys' bodies were shuddering now as they reached an
  all-time peak. With one last shudder, Harry emptied himself deep inside
  Draco. Draco, brought to climax by the friction of their movements and the
  ecstasy he was giving his lover, followed suit, his seed spilling between
  their bodies.
  Draco sighed at the feeling of loss when Harry pulled himself out of the
  tight sheathe. Harry lay on his back, pulling the blonde boy toward him until
  his head rested on his chest. Harry's erratic breathing was ruffling the
  silvery strands of Draco's hair, while Draco's own breath was hot against
  Harry's collarbone. When their breathing stabilized to close to normal, Draco
  pulled himself up on his elbows to look down at the green-eyed boy he had
  just loved.
  Harry smiled up at him, "That was. . .Christ, I'm speechless again," he said,
  shaking his head. "I didn't hurt you did I?" he asked, concern etching itself
  on the strong lines of his face.
  Draco laughed. "No, you didn't hurt me. Quite the opposite, in fact." He
  leaned down to kiss Harry's damp brow. Draco stood up and began dressing. "We
  should probably go back in, it's getting late," he said. When he finished
  dressing, he picked up Harry's scattered clothing and held them out to him.
  Harry stood up, taking the proffered bundle from his lover. He pulled on his
  jeans, buttoned them, and shrugged into his shirt. When Draco began helping
  him with his buttons, Harry said, "Draco. . ."
  "Hmmm?" the blonde boy replied, struggling with the row of buttons.
  "We could . . . I mean you could . . . What we just did, you could do that to
  me, if you want," he said, blushing for the second time that night.
  Draco's nimble fingers pushed the last button through its hole. "No, Harry.
  That's something you should only give when you're in love." There was no
  anger in his tone, only fact and an almost imperceptible sadness. Harry
  didn't know how to reply. He pulled the invisibility cloak over the two of
  them, and placing his arms around Draco's waist; they walked back into the
  castle together, both lost in their own thoughts.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 27 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 27 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 27: Examination
  Professor Vector wasn't happy to be in the little love nest the two boys
  shared. He made that quite obvious when he glared at the large single bed,
  the two twins were now transfigured into one, and quirked his eyebrows in
  obvious distaste. He must have chose to ignore the situation, though, because
  he took a seat in the armchair across the room and began firing questions at
  the boys seated on the edge of the bed.
  "What is the difference between Muggle and Wizard religious beliefs?"
  Draco grinned; this was his area of expertise. " Muggles are born to their
  religions, while Wizards are left to choose their own beliefs about a higher
  power or powers."
  "Correct," Vector said, ignoring the roll of Harry's eyes. Harry knew that
  although this answer fit the majority of Muggles, it wasn't always true.
  However, he decided to keep quiet in order to get the examination over with.
  They had taken all of their NEWT's so far, and this was the only one left.
  After this was over, they could spend the last two weeks of the school year
  free from studying; Although, Hermione felt they should prepare for the
  apparition test they would be taking over the summer.
  The examinations seemed to consist of US versus THEM questions, so Harry let
  Draco answer most of them. After all, Vector expected the wizard view of
  Muggles, and Harry had lived with them too long to be so narrow-minded. He
  only answered when Vector posed questions to him alone. After an hour of
  endless examination, they had only missed two questions, so Harry was feeling
  quite happy about the test results that would be coming by owl the last week
  of school.
  "What is the difference between the emotion of love between Muggles and
  Wizards?"
  Harry blinked; he really hadn't studied that chapter very thoroughly
  considering it was the last chapter of the text. Needless to say, he had been
  somewhat distracted, having Draco so nearby the last few weeks. Hopefully,
  Draco had read that chapter more thoroughly considering between the two, he
  was the most scholarly.
  "Muggles can find love many times in their lives, but rarely do they find
  their soul mates," Draco said, reciting from memory, "When wizards fall in
  love, there is a bonding created through their magic. For instance, one
  partner can quite easily use his or her partner's wand and get the same
  results, as if they had used their own. The bond is so strong that the two
  partners will be connected for life."
  Harry stared at Draco who had just finished talking. Was that true? If so, he
  definitely had to do some heavy thinking about he and Draco's relationship,
  not that he hadn't been already. Did he want to be connected for life with
  the sexy silver-haired boy sitting next to him? A better question: Was he in
  love with Draco Malfoy? But then, maybe Draco got the answer wrong and the
  whole bonding thing didn't exist.
  "Correct," Vector said, closing his notebook and standing up. "You'll get the
  results of this examination with the others," he stated simply, walking to
 the door. He shot one more disapproving glance at the two boys seated on the
  massive bed before exiting.
  Draco walked through the castle gardens musing to himself. He had pleaded
  with Harry to let him use the invisibility cloak an hour ago, and Harry had
  finally given in. Harry had wanted to come with him, but Draco needed the
  time to think, out of Harry's presence. Finally, understanding Draco's need
  for some alone time, Harry had relented, albeit sadly.
  Draco had learned to live in the moment after getting to know Harry. With
  Harry, he had learned that one could put the past behind him. After all, they
  had been able to get past their former rivalry and become lovers. It hadn't
  been easy letting go of the past, but Harry had been there for him, and now
  Draco felt like a new man. Because of all this, and because Harry was just
  Harry, Draco had fallen in love with him. Well, Draco didn't know if "fallen"
  was the correct word or not because it seemed that in looking back at their
  past together, he had always loved Harry Potter. He had admitted that to
  himself a long time ago. In fact, it hadn't been all that difficult for him
  to accept; he loved Harry, it was that simple.
  The problem was: Did Harry love him? When Draco had admitted his feelings for
  the raven-haired boy by the lake, he had anticipated an affirmative answer.
  It came as quite a shock when Harry wasn't able to reply. That was something
  Draco couldn't understand. Loving Harry for him was so simple. If it was
  simple, then why couldn't Harry simply love him back? Furthermore, Draco had
  been the one who had had the most qualms about the relationship in the
  beginning - he hadn't even admitted he was gay until that year. Harry,
  knowing all along his sexual preferences, at least at the time he had kissed
  Draco for the first time, was the one who was now confused. Draco sighed,
  talk about irony!
  Draco didn't like feeling confused, so when he felt that way, he usually made
  a subconscious decision to become angry instead. Right now, he was really
  angry. But, he had to keep his anger in check. All he needed to do was to
  blow up in front of Harry and further alienate him even more. Yes, there was
  alienation. They shared a room, a bed, they made love frequently, but still
  Draco could sense the trepidation in Harry's demeanor whenever he told him he
  loved him. Every time Draco would utter the words, hoping upon hope that
  Harry would finally answer, he couldn't help but to see the sheer fear that
  would cross the face of the Gryffindor. Harry would usually divert his gaze,
  as if he couldn't meet Draco's eyes, and then change the subject to something
  far less scary than love. Draco wished with all his might that one day Harry
  would raise those gorgeous jade eyes of his and say, "I love you too, Draco."
  Three little words, who knew they could cause such anxiety?
  Pansy faced the burning image of Lucius Malfoy smugly. She had been
  corresponding with Lucius since the beginning of the school year. Then,
  Lucius would contact Voldemort and clue him in on anything she had said that
  was important. So far she had told him about Draco and Harry's friendship,
  the shocking news of their romantic involvement, and finally their
  disappearance. She had to admit, she quite liked being a spy for the Dark
  Lord; it gave her a feeling of power she had never possessed before. This
  time, she felt even more powerful than usual because she had discovered
  something that would put her in the Dark Lord's graces for sure. She smiled
  not unlike a Cheshire cat when Lucius began his examination of her knowledge.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 28 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 28 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 28: Danger
  Hermione shivered; there was definitely a chill in the room. Looking at the
  two boys she loved like brothers, one she had loved for seven years, the
  other a newfound love she had discovered only recently, she decided the icy,
  artic atmosphere was emanating from them. Looking from the raven-haired boy
  to the silver-haired one, she realized something was amiss between them.
  Either she and Ron had walked in on a lovers' quarrel, or there was a quarrel
  yet to come. Not wanting to witness the latter, she decided to act as if
  nothing was wrong. "So, I suppose you're both glad the NEWT's are over, are
  you not?" she asked, directing her question to both boys.
  Harry shrugged and Draco grunted an affirmative. Yes, Hermione decided, those
  two were definitely in the middle of something. She tried a different tactic:
  nudging Ron quite sharply with her elbow, she said brightly, "Ron, didn't you
  want a rematch with Draco?" She knew this would work. Ron, still somewhat
  uncomfortable with having to visit Harry and Draco, had been dealing with it
  the only way he knew how, chess. He had taken to bringing his wizard's chess
  set with him on their daily visits. He was quite noticeably upset the day
  before when Draco had beaten him for the first time.
  Ron clapped his hands together in determination. "Yea, Malfoy. What do you
  say?"
  Draco smiled and moved to the table on the other side of the room. It was
  noticeable that he was quite happy about moving from his seat beside Harry.
  Ron followed him and they commenced to their usual game, a series of
  intricate moves and harmless insults. Hermione knew that now the two were
  engrossed in their battle, she could talk to Harry without worry of being
  heard. She sighed when she sat next to Harry. She had become consistent in
  the past seven years; here she was, playing the role of peacemaker yet again.
  Oh well, she decided, at least she was good at it.
  "So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she asked, placing a soothing
  hand on Harry's shoulder and peering into his eyes. Harry's eyes were his
  downfall; he could never get away with a lie with eyes that were that
  expressive.
  "Would I get away with it if I don't?" he asked hopefully.
  "Fat chance," she said. "I know there's something terribly wrong between you
  and Draco. Would you rather clue me in, talk about it and feel better, or
  deal with him the way you're feeling now?" she asked.
  "I'm going to have to deal with him sooner or later. It's not like I can
  escape or anything," Harry replied logically. However, from the look on
  Hermione's face, he knew he wasn't going to get away with this logic.
  Hermione frowned; it wasn't going to be as easy as it usually was to get
  Harry to talk. "You know, I learned quite a few new hexes while studying for
  the NEWT's. .." she threatened, making as if to pull her wands from her
  robes.
  Harry decided just to tell her. "Draco loves me," he said simply.
  Hermione's face wore a confused expression. "Yes, I know. He told us he did
  that day in the boy's lavatory."
  "No, Herm, listen. Draco loves me." Harry said, exasperated.
  "I know. Why are you repeating information I already know - Oh," she stated
  when she finally grasped the truth. "So, I take it you don't love him?"
  Harry shrugged, "I don't know, Herm. Sometimes I think I do, but then again,
  I really haven't had much experience with the whole thing . . ."
  Hermione chuckled at Harry's naivety, "Of course you love him, Harry. I mean,
  what else would explain the whole thing? Take the situation into context: You
 practically dote on each other. I have never seen a couple happier in my
  life. Other than Ron and myself," she added for good measure.
  Harry shook his head sadly, "I wish I was as sure as you are, Herm."
  At about that time, the two were interrupted by a loud shout from across the
  room. "Take THAT, Weasel! Two in a row, what are the odds!?" Draco shouted in
  glee. He then proceeded to do a victory dance that was so ridiculous that
  even Ron had to suck up his defeat and grin.
  Draco's win had altered the atmosphere in the room to a much lighter pitch.
  The four were able to talk much easier now; they even laughed a little when
  Ron quoted some of Dean Thomas', the new Quidditch announcer, comments during
  the Slytherin/Gryffindor match the day before. Neither Harry nor Draco seemed
  to care that Gryffindor had won; House rivalries did not seem an issue
  anymore. But, they listened attentively to the play-by-play account Ron gave
  with interest. After all, Quidditch was the best game ever invented.
  Finally, when a dinner tray for two magically popped onto the table, Hermione
  persuaded Ron to leave. Although they would much rather have dinner with
  Harry and Draco than go to the Great Hall, people would find it suspicious if
  they weren't in their places at the Gryffindor table. Harry couldn't help but
  to miss them already when the door barely closed behind them.
  Draco took a seat at the table and promptly placed the napkin in his lap.
  "I'm starving," he said, trying to make conversation, "good competition
  always gives me an appetite."
  Harry took the seat opposite the Slytherin and began mechanically eating from
  his plate. He could have been eating flubberworms and not even know it. He
  wasn't hungry, but eating gave him something to do to break up the tension
  that now existed between he and his lover. He could sense Draco's eyes on him
  while he was eating, but he didn't look up. Ever since the night by the lake,
  when Draco had given himself to him, things had changed. As the days passed,
  the tension got thicker and thicker around them. He could tell Draco's temper
  was getting harder to control the longer it went on, but he really didn't
  know of any way to stop it. Sure, he could say the "L-word," but he really
  wanted to mean it when he said it, and right now he wasn't sure if he would
  mean it or not. Besides, he knew Draco could read his eyes. Hermione always
  said that his eyes were a dead-give-away when he lied.
  Finally, Draco got tired of the silence. He placed his hand over the hand
  Harry was using to shovel food into his mouth. "Harry . . ." he began and
  stopped when Harry's eyes met his. There was such anguish in those eyes that
  he was unable to continue.
  Harry pulled his hand out from under Draco's and motioned toward the tray
  that was between them. "What's this?" he asked grabbing a letter that was
  placed on the tray. There was a loud popping noise when he disappeared.
  Draco looked at the now empty seat where Harry had sat in astonishment. The
  letter must have been a portkey. He picked it up and waited for the pull at
  his navel, but it never came. Obviously the portkey had been designed for
  Harry alone. He didn't know what to do. Was the portkey designed by
  Dumbledore? If so, he had nothing to worry about. But, what if it wasn't? He
  paced the room in agitation. All of a sudden, he stood stock still in the
  middle of the room. The claudaugh pendant on his necklace was suddenly
  burning a hole in his chest. Harry was in danger. Without thinking, he raced
  out of the room down the many steps to the main floor. He started to run
  toward the staircase that led to Dumbledore's office, but changed his mind
  when the pendant pulled from his chest and hung taut from the chain. The
  chain was pulling in the opposite direction, toward the main doors. He
  ignored all of the shouts from the students in the main hall when they
  realized he was there. Instead, he followed the direction the pendant was
  leading him, exiting the castle and running blindly into the Forbidden
  Forest.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 29 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 29 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 29: Confrontation
  Draco followed the pull of the claudaugh through the Forbidden Forest,
  swerving from left to right, and sometimes seemingly in a circle, missing
  trees by fractions of an inch. Finally, the trees began to thin out, and he
  ran into a clearing of sorts. He had never been this deep in the Forbidden
  Forest before, so he was surprised to see the circle-like area, obviously
  man-made, in the middle of a densely populated area. In the middle of the
  circle was his Harry. But, Harry was not alone. Holding the unconscious
  raven-haired boy upright in a vice-like grip was his father, Lucius Malfoy.
  Behind him was Voldemort, flanked by too many Death Eaters to count. They
  formed a semi-circle around the centerpiece of Harry and Lucius.
  Draco was too upset about Harry's welfare to be scared, and fortunately his
  Malfoy temper decided to make an appearance at this time. He pulled his wand
  out of his pocket, pointing it at his father. "Let him go."
  Lucius chuckled, a deep sound resonating from the back of his throat. "And
  why would I do that, son?"
  "I said, let him go," Draco repeated, his voice calm, except for a slight
  crack at the end of the sentence. "What do you need him for? He's only
  seventeen years old. Do you think he could possible be any danger to you, or
  him?" the silver-haired boy asked, motioning with his head toward Voldemort.
  "Of course he's no danger to us, boy," Lucius said, spitting the last word.
  "But, he's very important to you, is he not?"
  Draco did not respond. He simply glared daggers at the man that was actually
  his blood relation. Millions of thoughts were running through his brain,
  finally settling on one explanation. "I see. You decided you could make me
  surrender myself to your cause if you threatened Harry."
  Voldemort finally decided to speak up. He left the circle and stopped beside
  Lucius, his red serpent's eyes boring into the boy. Draco shuddered; it felt
  as if Voldemort was inside him, searching his innermost being, finding his
  weaknesses, his fears, his downfalls. "I'm surprised. Your boy has a lot more
  backbone than the last time I saw him," Voldemort hissed. The next sentence
  he directed toward Draco. "There will be no threatening here, Draconis. I am
  not one to make idle threats. When I decide to do something, it is done."
  "What. . . what are you planning to do?" Draco asked, the fear seeping into
  him now, as if Voldemort's gaze had melted the icy walls he had erected to
  contain it.
  "Potter is a nuisance. More than that, he has the uncanny ability of having
  luck on his side. We kill him," he stated simply. "Lucius, you may do the
  honor. Just make sure he suffers first," he hissed, his red eyes slanting
  toward Draco in amusement.
  "No!!!" Draco cried, but he was not quick enough to stop Lucius from throwing
  Harry to the ground. In one fluid movement, Lucius had his wand pointed at
  the still unconscious Harry.
  "CRUCIO!"
  The curse hit Harry, forcing him back to the world of the living. Draco
  watched helplessly as Harry screamed in agony, curling up into a fetal
  position. Lucius continued Harry's torture for several minutes before ending
  the curse. He then looked at Draco who had fallen to his knees, tears
  streaming down his face. "Do you see what love does to you, Draconis? It
  makes you vulnerable. Not only that, it makes the one you love vulnerable,"
  he said kicking Harry, who was still curled up into a ball, biting his lower
  lip.
  When Draco did not respond, Lucius raised his wand again. "CRU-"
  "NOOOO!!!" Draco screamed, loud enough to capture Lucius' attention and deter
  him from his task. "No," he said rising slowly to his feet, "Take me. Do
  whatever you want to me, but please, please let Harry go."
  "You're saying you'll do whatever I want?" Lucius asked, processing the
  information.
  "Yes. Just let Harry go. Let him live, please," Draco said, his eyes on Harry
  who was now rising to his knees, breathing heavily.
  It was Voldemort's turn to speak this time. "I don't want him, Lucius. Love
  has made him weak. Look at him," he said, his thin lips stretching in a line
  of disgust. "There is no room for love in our order. He cannot be trusted."
  "So what do we do, Master?" Lucius asked. It was quite evident he was upset
  that his own son was considered unworthy of the dark ranks.
  Voldemort shrugged then laughed, a maniacal laugh. "If he's so worried about
  his Potter, then let him take his place."
 Lucius looked scared now, the first time Draco could ever remember him
  registering this emotion. "But, Master. That would mean. . ."
  "Yes. He will die," Voldemort said simply. "Tell me, Draconis, do you love
  Potter enough to die in his place?"
  There was no hesitation in the silver-haired boy's demeanor or voice when he
  replied, "Yes."
  "No!" cried Harry, who had finally regained his composure. "Draco, don't.
  It's not worth it. They're going to kill me anyway. Go, please, go. Save
  yourself." He was crying now, silent sobs wracking his thin shoulders as he
  kneeled upon the ground.
  Draco decided to ignore his lover's protests. "I'll take his place, do what
  you will." He then kneeled, laying his wand on the ground beside him.
  "Fine," cackled Voldemort. He turned to Lucius, "Again, Lucius, you may do
  the honors."
  Lucius' calm demeanor now lay in shambles at his feet. He was visibly shaking
  now. "I cant-he's my son, my own flesh and blood. I can't . . ."
  "Lucius, Lucius, don't you see, you must. You must prove to me that you're
  loyal. You proved disloyalty before, or don't you remember?"
  Lucius remembered. He remembered running to the ministry when the Dark Lord
  was all but destroyed by the toddler Harry Potter. He knew the Dark Lord
  would never forgive him for that. He knew it would come up in some type of
  task sooner or later. He just never thought it would involve killing his own
  son.
  Lucius raised his wand and pointed it at his son, his mirror image. His hand
  was not trembling now because he was determined to prove loyalty to his
  master. He watched without emotion as his son's eyes met his, widening when
  he realized what his own father was about to do. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he cried, a
  venomous green light shooting from the tip of his wand and hitting his son in
  the chest.
  The curse hit Draco like a beam of sunlight would hit a mirror. It refracted.
  The green beam of light bounced off the boy's chest and hit Lucius Malfoy.
  Lucius Malfoy dropped to the ground, stone cold.
  Harry, who had been watching the scene in silent horror suddenly moved,
  running to Draco who was lying on the ground. Thankfully, he could see that
  Draco was still breathing. Before standing up, he grabbed Draco's wand from
  the forest floor, and spun around. The forest was deadly silent now. The
  Death Eaters had run like the cowards they were when they saw the fate of
  Lucius Malfoy. The only one left was Voldemort. He raised the wand and
  pointed it at the Dark Lord, who was also pointing his wand at him."
  "Harry, Harry, Harry," Voldemort said, shaking his head in amusement. "You
  couldn't kill me with your own wand, how do you expect to do it with someone
  else's?"
  "Watch me," said Harry. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" The green beam hit its mark and the
  Dark Lord fell for the last time.
  Pansy Parkinson stopped running. She pushed the Death Eater's hood off of her
  head and turned back. What was she doing running away? She was no coward like
  the rest of the lot. She was the one who had been the instrument for the plan
  to begin with. She was the one who had followed Weasely and Granger around
  for over a month until she found out where Harry and Draco were hidden. And,
  she was the one who had designed the portkey and snuck it onto the tray to be
  delivered to Potter. She was powerful, and she was going to damn well make
  sure nobody else underestimated her from now on.
  When she reached the clearing, she was surprised at the turn of events. She
  watched from behind a copse of trees as her Master was defeated by The-Boy-
  Who-Lived. The Dark Lord should not have underestimated Potter; she could
  have told him that. As Potter helped Draco to his feet, rubbing his back,
  Pansy decided it was her turn to make an entrance.
  "Potter!" she spat.
  Both boys whipped around, facing her. "Parkinson?" they both asked in unified
  disbelief.
  She smirked and raised her wand. "That would be me," she said.
  Harry had the reflexes of a seeker. Despite his shock at Pansy's appearance,
  he was able to curse her before she opened her mouth. "RICTUSEMPRA!"
  Pansy flew into an undignified heap about ten feet across the clearing. She
  sat up shaking the dizziness out of her head and watched the two boys begin
  to leave the circle. Obviously they didn't feel she deserved any more
  attention. She groped for her wand, and finally alighting upon it, she
  pointed it at Draco in the distance and whispered a curse. She cackled evilly
  when the curse hit its mark, and he fell face forward onto the ground. No,
  she thought, no one will ever underestimate Pansy Parkinson ever again. She
  then fled from the clearing before Potter had a chance to wreak revenge.
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 30 *****
***** Ink Stained Fingers Archive *****


                     ***** Coveting Thy Enemy - Ch. 30 *****
                                 by Elani_Chaice


  Chapter 30: Coming of Sorrow
  Harry leaned down to Draco who had fallen to the ground. He seemed to be
  breathing, but his breath was rather shallow. He turned around to glare at
  Pansy Parkinson, but she was gone. Although he was hit by an Unforgivable
  earlier, although he was tired from nights of uneasy sleep, and although he
  was worried sick about Draco, his adrenalin was pumping. He reached down and
  scooped up the Slytherin, who was not much lighter than himself, and ran,
  hopefully toward Hogwart's. It never dawned on him to use a levitating charm
  on the boy, he just ran, sick with fear that Draco may be dying. He didn't
  know what curse Pansy he had used, but it was used out of revenge, and that
  couldn't be a good sign.
  Harry ran as fast as he could through the forest, winding in different
  directions, not knowing whether he was headed the right way or not. Thank
  goodness he seemed to be naturally lucky because after about fifteen minutes
  of running, he ran into Hagrid and Snape. Snape took one look at Harry's face
  and the pale boy cradled in his arms before placing a weight reducing charm
  on Draco and carrying him to the castle himself. Harry followed the grim
  Potions Professor, whose usually calm exterior was now broken due to fear of
  losing his nephew.
  When they reached the infirmary, Madame Pompfrey took one look at Draco and
  immediately ordered Snape to put him to bed. She then ushered both Harry and
  Snape out of the room. They waited outside the infirmary not speaking, both
  muted to silence out of worry and outright trepidation.
  Harry didn't know what he'd do without Draco. If Draco died, all the light in
  his life would be gone. Even though Voldemort was dead and he would no longer
  have to glance over his shoulder anymore, he would never be happy, truly
  happy, again. His mind was jerked from these thoughts when Professor
  Dumbledore arrived, followed behind by Hermione and Ron.
  "I thought you would like some company," Dumbledore said. They all took
  seats, but were unable to speak as of yet.
  Finally, Harry asked, "How did you know where to look for us?"
  Hermione was the one to reply. "Ron saw Draco running like a maniac out the
  main entrance. He figured something was wrong, so he told Professor
  Dumbledore."
  "The headmaster sent Hagrid and I out to look for you. Unfortunately, we
  didn't know where Draco had run off to. If we had, maybe we would have gotten
  there in time . . ." Snape said, his head hanging.
  Harry, who was sitting next to him, rubbed his shoulder. "It's not your
  fault. You didn't know," he said, trying to rub some reassurance into the
  dark man's shoulder.
  "Why don't you tell us what happened, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
  As Harry told the events of that night, stopping a few times and squeezing
  his eyes shut at the most painful parts, the rest of the group listened
  without comment. When he finished, they had a chance to ask their questions.
  "Let me get this straight, Voldemort's dead, right?"
  "Yes."
  "And Lucius, too?"
  "Yes."
  Hermione was the only one not asking questions, but she decided to when
  everyone else was finished. "Professor Dumbledore, why didn't the Avada
  Kedavra work on Draco?"
  The headmaster leaned back in his chair. "Well, I'm not quite sure. The only
  other time it hasn't worked was on Harry. Harry, do you remember why it
  didn't work on you?"
  "Yes, because my mother sacrificed herself for me out of love."
  "Did you do this for Draco, Harry? Did you ever put his life before your
  own?" Dumbledore asked. The rest of the group leaned forward in expectation
  of his answer.
 Harry thought for quite a few minutes. No, it couldn't be? Could it? Then he
  replied, "Yes, once. At the lake, when the giant squid pulled Draco
  underwater. But, that was a long time ago, when we were still enemies."
  Dumbledore nodded knowledgably, a glint of amusement in his eye. Ron simply
  gawked at him, his jaw moving up and down silently. Snape made no indication
  he heard anything unusual. And Hermione just smiled.
  "What?" Harry asked, noticeably confused.
  Hermione sighed, "Don't you see Harry, you loved him all this time. . . all
  this time."
  Harry thought this over, the realization suddenly hitting him. All this time,
  he had been in love with Draco Malfoy. The times they fought, pranked each
  other, insulted each other, he had loved him all along. The reason the
  realization never came to him was because it had always been there.
  Harry nodded, smiling a little. "I guess I have. That's probably why I could
  use his wand, right Headmaster?"
  The headmaster nodded, his eyes still twinkling. The group was interrupted
  however when Madame Pompfrey poked her head out the infirmary door. "Albus,
  could you come in here, please?" she asked. Dumbledore rose and left the
  group.
  Hermione put a hand over Harry's. "I'm sure he's all right, Harry, really."
  Harry gave her a sad look. "I hope so, Herm. If I lose him . . . Christ, I
  never even told him I love him." His eyes, eyes that were brimming, began to
  overrun with tears.
  Dumbledore reentered the room. "He's all right, Harry, he's conscious. But. .
  ."
  Harry didn't let Dumbledore finish. "I have to tell him, I have to tell him,
  now!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet and racing into the infirmary.
  When he reached Draco's bed, he looked at the handsome boy lying there. Draco
  was still so pale, even paler than usual. Harry wanted to trace the bluish-
  green veins that wove a tapestry beneath his skin with his fingers. When
  Draco's eyes fluttered open, Harry's couldn't help but to embrace the boy
  tightly. "Draco, Oh Gods, Draco, I was so scared," he said before kissing the
  Slytherin's with all his might.
  "What the fuck?" Draco cried, pushing Harry away roughly.
  Harry blinked, then smiled nervously. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" he asked.
  Draco looked at him now, his silver eyes flashing to mercury, his face was no
  longer a wan tone, but was now beet red with anger. "Did you hurt me? Hell,
  you fucking kissed me, Potter!" he yelled.
  Harry felt a sense of de ja vu creep into his soul. This was not his Draco.
  Maybe the fall had knocked his brains about. He shook his head, "Draco, I'm
  sorry. I shouldn't have done that so soon after. . ."
  "You shouldn't have done that at all! And where the hell do you get off
  calling me by my first name?" the Slytherin asked, his anger had not
  dissipated at all.
  Harry shook his head in confusion before stumbling to the door. Professor
  Dumbledore met him there and ushered him out of the room. Seeing the look of
  confusion on the Gryffindor's face, Dumbledore decided to explain. "That's
  what I was trying to tell you Harry, before you ran in there, it seems that
  the curse Pansy placed on him was a memory charm. The last thing he remembers
  is you, Ron, and Hermione hexing him on the train the first day of this
  year."
  Harry dropped to his knees, holding his head in his hands. "No, there's
  something we can do. This can't be happening. He's forgotten everything: our
  truce, our friendship, and our love. Can't we do something?"
  Dumbledore helped Harry back to his feet. "I'm sorry Harry, reversing a
  memory charm is too risky. He may remember tomorrow, next week, next year, or
  . . ."
  "Or?" asked Harry, terrified of the answer.
  Dumbledore gave him a grim look, "Or, he may not remember at all."
  -To Be Continued in Sequel -
  - Look For Sweet Love, Renew Thy Force: Five years later, Harry and Draco
  must come to terms with what occurred in the past. Can they get past Draco's
  memory loss and the obstacles in their paths to find each other again?
  =============================================================================
  If you enjoyed this story, please return to the SEARCH RESULTS page and leave
                  a comment, or send an e-mail to Elani_Chaice.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
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