Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10076279.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Dean_Thomas, Draco_Malfoy, Albus_Dumbledore, Argus_Filch, Harry_Potter,
      Hermione_Granger, Luna_Lovegood, Millicent_Bulstrode, Minerva_McGonagall,
      Neville_Longbottom, Pansy_Parkinson, Ron_Weasley, Seamus_Finnigan,
      Severus_Snape, Bellatrix_Black_Lestrange, Blaise_Zabini, Voldemort
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Language, Chan, Slash_sex, Sexual_Content, Spoilers, Voyeurism,
      Angst, Tragedy, Drama, First_Time, Mystery, Suspense
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2007-08-23 Completed: 2007-12-31 Chapters: 17/17 Words: 52844
****** Second Mission ******
by KitBaiu [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year, Harry's
     obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
     than he bargained for.
     This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but
     not fully.
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Disclaimer :Harry Potter series (books and movies) and characters belong to
J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I own nothing. I don't make any money, etc. . .
Blah, blah, blah, please don't sue me. :)
This chapter has been beta'd by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
"Lumos." Wand aloft and the Marauder's Map clenched in the other hand, Harry
scanned attentively for the dots labeled Draco Malfoy. He combed through every
room, every hall, taking second glances when he thought he saw him, but
realized his eyes were only playing tricks.
Harry was aware of how late it was and the likelihood of Malfoy being out at
these times was slim. But, he was too busy earlier today or otherwise harassed
by Ron and Hermione to search for him.
"Harry, this isn't healthy!" Hermione had told him earlier that day,
"Constantly looking for somebody, Malfoy no less. . . It's almost like you're
stalking-"
"I'm not stalking him!" Harry defensively retorted, "I mean, he's up to
something. And if Death Eaters are involved, then the sooner I find out, the
sooner I can sort it."
"Oh, so now Hermione and I don't get to help?" Ron indignantly asked, "We're
your best friends and were always there to help with other problems involving
You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. The Department of Mysteries for one, and
you'd never have gotten to the Philosopher's Stone if not for us! Not to
mention-"
"Shut up! Stop rambling, Ron! I only meant-"
Ron had tutted, "Yeah, I'm not the stalker. Stalking a guy. If I didn't know
better, I'd say you-"
"Ron!" Hermione had cut him off.
"I'd keep that comment to yourself if I were you." Harry angrily muttered
through his teeth.
Ron immediately obliged, realizing he'd almost gone too far. Harry decided to
leave his map scans until he had a moment alone.
Ever since his return from the Christmas Holidays, Harry had been frantically
checking the Marauder's Map like this every night. When he overheard Malfoy's
conversation with Snape, he was sure he'd been right the whole time.
Hermione and Ron seemed to think that Harry was possibly right when he first
told them about what he had overheard. Yet, with Harry constantly searching for
Malfoy on the map, they seemed to lose their enthusiasm.
Harry's frustration grew as he sat alone on his four poster scanning the map.
He could see the Slytherin common room, but it was so crammed he couldn't
possibly tell if Malfoy was in the mass. Aware that almost all in the
Gryffindor Tower were asleep, it would make sense for Malfoy to be as well. If
he could just make him out in the common room to confirm he was there; then,
Harry could go to sleep.
It took nearly an hour to search the entire map of Hogwarts, and another hour
as Harry watched the entrance to the Slytherin common room (in which nobody
left nor entered the area). Heaving a sigh, Harry reluctantly gave in and went
to bed.
With a busy schedule, Harry hardly had time during the day to check the map.
Even if he did spot him in between classes, by the time he got there, Malfoy
would be gone. It was a never-ending wild goose chase, but acknowledging that
wasn't an option.
The only time Harry managed to catch glimpses of him was during breakfast,
lunch, dinner or during lessons.
It was odd. Malfoy was normally so loud, throwing jeers and insults at others'
expense. The other Slytherins would roar with laughter, praising Malfoy like a
king. Recently, the blond was much more withdrawn, occasionally throwing angry
whispers to Crabbe and Goyle. He didn’t even look like he was eating enough to
sustain himself.
                                     -----
With endless books stacked on the table and handfuls of parchment, Harry
couldn't have been more resentful about the upsurge of homework. Of course, now
would be a good time to check the Marauder's Map if not for the closeness of
Ron and Hermione in the cramped common room.
It was a stroke of luck that Ron demanded help with his own homework. Hermione
and Ron's heads were blocked from view by a large tattered sheet of parchment.
Harry knew they'd be too distracted to give him a hard time about checking the
map.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." he whispered.
Harry's heart raced as he immediately spotted Draco Malfoy on the map. Sinking
just as quickly as it started, he saw Malfoy's name sitting by his lonesome in
the Slytherin common room. Even so, Harry didn't immediately put the map away
in the hope that Malfoy would leave.
"I don't care if it sounds cool, Ron. It's not a real word!" Harry could hear
the frustration in Hermione's voice.
With his eyes not leaving the dot labeled Draco Malfoy, Harry knew this was
pointless, and that he should be working on his own homework. But, his gut
feeling had hope that the Slytherin would leave. Several minutes passed by, and
the name on the map remained still.
"Okay, just correct that paragraph and add this conclusion. You'll get top
marks, I promise." This informed Harry that Ron and Hermione were no longer
distracted.
Harry's wand tapped the map, but Malfoy’s name moved slightly. His green eyes
widened in shock with an eager expression written all over his face; it was
just what he was hoping for. The little black dot appeared to be pacing
momentarily, then moved to where Harry could only assume were the Slytherin
dormitories.
"Mischief managed." Harry sighed, folding the map and placing it in the pocket
of his robes. Packing the books and parchment back into his bag, his impatience
wiped any motivation of taking care of his homework.
"Surely, you're not done already?" Hermione asked, taking note to Harry walking
toward the dormitories.
He shook his head. Hermione and Ron didn't really do anything wrong, but the
idea of hanging around them right now didn't seem like it would lift his mood.
"Hiya, Harry!" Neville was already in their dormitory.
"Hi Neville." Harry unenthusiastically replied.
Flopping back on his four poster, Harry stared, not paying attention to
Neville, who was going on about plants, Luna Lovegood and his grandmother. It
was too early to go to bed, but too late to escape the clutches of the
Gryffindor Tower. He knew he shouldn't just go wandering, but this knowledge
never stopped him before. Besides, his invisibility cloak was already pocketed.
"Er, that's nice Neville. But, I just remembered. . . I have to go see Ron."
Harry made haste before Neville could piece together the bad lie.
The cloak was thrown over himself while descending so that no one would see
him. He certainly didn't want Ron or Hermione to try and stop him from leaving,
or worse, try to come with. After slipping past the Fat Lady, Harry broke into
a quiet run. He knew his best friends would know what happened if the portrait
door swung open so randomly.
Harry had wandered a good distance from the Gryffindor Tower. He felt unsure
what to do from here, but didn't want to go back to the common room. It wasn't
until he saw the statue of Boris the Bewildered that he realized he was just
outside the prefects' bathroom, playing with bubbles or just relaxing sounded
very pleasant at the moment.
"Spic 'n span." he whispered, entering the great marble bathroom.
Harry amused himself while the bath filled with the random colored and sized
bubbles. It took some time to fill; then, he stripped down and slid in on a
spot that was shallow enough for him to sit comfortably.
The water was warm and very relaxing. Harry rest the back of his head along the
edge and closed his eyes. Quidditch, Homework, Girls, Malfoy, Voldemort. . .
The everyday stresses lifted away, almost magically. He wouldn't worry about it
now; he could continue tomorrow.
"Who's there?" came a drawling voice.
Harry's eyes opened wide immediately, and he turned on the spot. He hadn't even
heard someone come in the bathroom and felt stupid for forgetting to lock the
door.
Draco Malfoy's loathing gaze met with Harry's. The blond was draped in plush
green bathrobes. Harry realized he must have not been going to bed, but rather
planning on coming down here.
"What are you doing here, Potter? You're not a prefect!"
Harry's hand was under his own robes, which were right next to the tub,
clenching tightly onto his wand. He left it hidden as he didn't want to provoke
a duel but was on his guard nonetheless.
"I'm a Quidditch Captain, Malfoy. Captains get to use the prefects' bathroom,
too!" Harry said, "But, what about you? Ron and Hermione said you gave up your
prefect post. You shouldn't be here."
Malfoy gave his normal elitist laugh, "I'm still a prefect, Potter. I just
haven't been following my prefect duties. That doesn't mean I'm going to pass
up on a luxury such as this." His arms hung wide, as if displaying the
impressive bathroom.
Harry rolled his eyes. This shouldn't have been surprising. It would be typical
of Malfoy not to take care of his responsibilities, yet still indulge in the
benefits. Harry’s hand stayed clenched on his wand, however. He felt quite sure
Malfoy was going to want the entire bathroom to himself.
But Malfoy walked to an edge opposite Harry and began undoing his own robes,
suggesting he didn’t care contrary to Harry’s assumption. Harry was astonished.
"Do you want to see me naked, Potter?"
"What!? No!"
"Then stop watching me undress!"
Harry's eyes immediately darted from Malfoy to the portrait of the mermaid,
sleeping silently on her rock. He muttered sorry under his breath. As rude as
Malfoy's comment may have been, Harry had to admit, it had a certain
validation.
With a deep breath, Harry rest his head against the tub’s edge and closed his
eyes. Harry tried to relax the way he had been prior to the interruption.
Although, even with Malfoy a good distance away, his presence created a
horrible distraction. It was highly unlikely that the Slytherin was planning
any plots while sitting in the giant bathtub. Although, it did occur with
Malfoy undressed, Harry might be able to sneak a glance at his forearm.
An eye peeked. Malfoy appeared to be upset. Only the top of his blond head was
in view as his forehead resting on his palms. The opposite side of his forearms
faced Harry, so even if Malfoy had a Dark Mark, he couldn’t see it.
The only way Harry could maneuver around to see it would make Malfoy take
notice. In which case, he'd be sure to hide it.
Harry couldn't help but feel awkward and uncomfortable at this point. He'd
never imagine Malfoy to express any distress right in front of him. He must
have been counting on Harry to remain silent with his eyes shut. The Gryffindor
felt now would be a good time to leave.
Turning slowly and standing as silently as possible, he kept a vigilant eye on
the blond. He didn't want Malfoy to notice, in case he looked up and saw him
naked. Carefully pulling himself out of the bath, he couldn't help but notice a
sniffle. Was Malfoy crying?
Feeling overcome with a sense of sympathy, Harry couldn't help but remain where
he was. Sure, Malfoy was rude and his family appeared to mostly consist of
Death Eaters, but he never occurred to Harry as the emotional type. He could
only imagine that something really terrible had happened if he was to the point
of crying, especially knowing that Harry was in the same room.
Harry hesitated pulling himself from the tub. Just leave. Whatever it is, it
doesn't matter. He probably deserves it! Just leave! Harry kept endlessly
trying to nag himself, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He cursed himself
under his breath. Then slowly, Harry drifted across the tub over to Malfoy.
"Er- Is something the matter?" Harry tried to sound caring, but a tone of
awkwardness was quite apparent.
"Get out of here, Potter!" Malfoy immediately lifted his head and pulled his
arms underwater. The mass of foamy bubbles hid his body below his collarbone.
"You were crying, Malfoy." Harry's voice remained calm.
"I was not! You must really want to see me naked! Go back to the other side or
leave!"
Harry noticed Malfoy's grey eyes weren't swollen. There weren’t any tear
streaks down his cheeks, either. Perhaps, he hadn't been crying, but he still
appeared very perturbed.
Harry didn't stray from his calm demeanor. He certainly didn't expect Malfoy to
start pouring his heart out to him. But, with patience, he thought he might be
able to get some answers.
"Is it Voldemort?" Harry asked, Malfoy flinched at the sound of his name, "Did
he get your mum?"
"No. Go away."
"Your father?"
"My father is in Azkaban, Potter! Surely, you remember, as it's your fault!"
"Yes," Harry almost looked amused, "You reminded me on the Hogwarts Express,
remember, at the beginning of the year? Be as stubborn as you will, something
is bothering you."
"Oh, like I'd tell you, anyway. Quit acting like you're my best friend. You
don't understand real fear!"
Harry rolled his eyes at the last comment. As tempted as he was to remind him
of the power hungry dark wizard that had him marked as of fifteen years ago, he
decided to refrain. Instead, he focused his attention toward the middle
statement, "Don't worry, I don't think we're friends. You've spent the last
five and a half years making sure I know. Actually, just five. You haven't
seemed to be going out of your way to harass my friends and I this year, have
you, Malfoy? Why is that?"
"There are more important things in the world than ruining your life, Potter.
Right now, I don't have the time." Malfoy's volume seemed to turn down, but the
anger in his voice remained.
"Is that so? It didn't seem that way the previous years, Malfoy. You really
went out of your way to harass us."
"Did it ever occur to you that I was trying to get your attention?"
Harry lifted a curious eyebrow, but remained silent.
"I- No- . . . Y-You took that the wrong way!" Malfoy appeared desperate to make
up for his slip, "I can't relax with you here. I'm leaving!"
Malfoy quickly turned around and pulled himself out of the bath. A line of
black against his forearm caught Harry's eye. But, Malfoy was robed before he
could make out any detail.
"God, Potter, you must be a poof! You didn't even turn away when I got out!”
"You wish, Malfoy!" Harry retorted, turning back so he could grab his own
robes.
***** Chapter 2 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter has been betaed by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
"Muffliato." Harry quietly cast around himself, Ron and Hermione at breakfast
the next morning. He wasn't about to let more people than those two know about
his late-night experience with Draco Malfoy.
It took some time to calm Hermione down from her usual conniption from using
the spells from the Half-Blood Prince's copy of Advanced Potion-Making. But,
eventually Harry was able to confide in them his unwitting run in with Malfoy.
"You saw a black line on his arm. Harry, that could have just been a shadow."
Hermione's voice filled with skepticism.
"You saw Malfoy naked? Gross!" was Ron's first, and predictable, reaction.
"No, it wasn't a shadow. It was like a tattoo. It had to be the Dark Mark!"
Harry replied to Hermione, ignoring Ron's comment completely.
"What I find puzzling, is why didn't Malfoy start a fight with you? It would
seem more his character to try and duel you or have a screaming match rather
than get in the bathtub, wouldn't it?" Hermione seemed deep in thought.
"Yeah, I thought that was odd, too. . ." Harry's voice trailed as he went into
the same thought mode as Hermione.
"It was almost like Malfoy wanted you to start talking to him." Hermione
continued.
"Wait. That means you and Malfoy were naked in a bathtub together!" Ron
crinkled his nose.
"Okay Ron! I think we got that much!" Hermione said. Harry felt grateful.
"And his comment, 'Did it ever occur to you that I was trying to get your
attention?'. Do you think he meant it?" Harry asked her.
Hermione gazed up in thought for a moment before answering. "No, I don't think
so. With his father a Death Eater and his mother a sympathizer, he's really
seemed to follow in their footsteps. He probably was so upset about something
he let down his guard. That would explain why he didn't try to fight
immediately, either. He probably put his defenses back up once you tried to
comfort him."
"Still can't understand why you'd comfort Malfoy." Ron grumbled.
Leave it to Hermione to come up with any excuse to close her mind. Harry was
sure that she was about to start agreeing with him. He guessed he was naive to
assume such a thing.
Harry didn't bother pushing the subject as the trio went about their normal
morning lessons routine. He couldn't help but notice that Ron appeared less
talkative and would occasionally throw him disgusted looks. Harry knew Ron
could be petty sometimes, but thought he was mature enough to hear about his
encounter with Malfoy. Apparently, he was wrong to assume that as well.
After another successful Potions class, Harry couldn't help but notice Malfoy
was really taking his time to put away his potions ingredients. His fellow band
of Slytherins had already left. Mulling it over for a moment, Harry decided
that Malfoy was the only person who could really explain what was going on last
night.
He waited for Hermione and Ron to leave. Malfoy was the last person, aside from
himself, in the classroom. Harry tailed him silently until they were out in the
dungeon corridors.
"Malfoy!" Harry called out to him. He was sure that nobody was close enough to
overhear them.
"What, Potter?" Malfoy's cold grey eyes pierced him like a thousand daggers.
"Er- last night. You were upset."
"Yes, Potter! I was upset. You were lucky enough to witness a moment of
weakness. Believe me; I don't need your pity."
"Well, I just thought- I mean, you didn't even try to fight with me about the
prefects' bath. I thought you'd want it all to yourself."
"Have you been thinking about this all night, Potter?" Malfoy's voice drawled
into a sort of amusement, "Did you think since we shared a bath that we were
best friends now?"
"No! I just thought-"
"You thought wrong! The prefects' bathtub is the size of a large pool. I didn't
think you'd get flattered by my sharing it with you!"
"Is something wrong, Draco?" came an annoyingly high-pitched voice. Pansy
Parkinson came clutching to Malfoy's arm like an abandon puppy, which only
emphasized her pug-like face.
"Just that Potter is trying to make a friendship proposal. Seems he not only
wants to be best friends, but wants to share baths, as well." Malfoy sneered.
Close behind the couple came Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle. They had broad grins
across their faces. It appeared they caught Malfoy's last comment.
"Like sharing baths now, Potter?" Zabini said, "Want to be washed like a baby?
Feel you missed out on that opportunity since your mum's dead?"
A turquoise jet of light shot out from the end of Harry's wand. Zabini was on
the floor, shrieking violently, ripping at himself. He appeared desperate to
pull something off of him that wasn't even there. Harry didn't feel the need to
justify himself by telling the truth of what happened in the bathroom the
previous evening. The stunned and horrified looks on the Slytherins' faces were
enough to satisfy him.
Harry had made a quick retreat to the Gryffindor common room after that
incident. Professor Slughorn was very friendly toward him, but Harry was sure
he'd still get into a lot of trouble if he'd seen the mental jinx he used on
Blaise Zabini.
Ron seemed to have forgotten the fact that Harry had spent time with Malfoy in
a bathtub naked. He was talking to Harry again and not giving him awkward
stares. With a great deal of help from Hermione, the two of them managed to get
a huge chunk of their homework finished. The next day was Friday, and Harry was
sure he'd get loads more. He didn't want to have anymore homework than he had
to over the weekend.
                                     -----
It was a correct assumption to make that Friday would bring a ton of homework.
Harry felt so busy Friday night and most of Saturday; he hadn't even the time
to check the Marauder's Map.
It wasn't until after dinner Saturday evening that Harry decided to put off his
still massive stack of homework. Hermione didn't give up on hers. Ron appeared
to be putting it off altogether since Friday. He amused himself mostly with
picking on first years.
With the two of them distracted, Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map.
"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."
"Not checking for Malfoy again, are you?" he heard Ron groan.
Harry ignored his comment and immediately spotted Draco Malfoy's name in the
Slytherin common room. His dot paced around Crabbe and Goyle, whom remained
quite still. It went on like this for several minutes until Crabbe and Goyle
went into the dormitories. Malfoy's name remained still momentarily, then
walked up to the dormitories after them.
Wondering whether Malfoy was going to bed or getting his bathrobes, Harry
didn't immediately shut the map. It was several more minutes until Malfoy’s
appeared in the common room again. His eyes strongly affixed, Harry could soon
see that he definitely was heading toward the prefects' bathroom.
"Mischief managed."
Harry wasn't sure why he felt like following after him. The first encounter was
awkward enough. He found it improbable that Malfoy was scheming in the
bathroom, but not impossible.
Hermione was still caught up in her homework. Ron was now playing Wizards Chess
with first years (not caring to go remotely easy on them). Neither of them
noticed Harry sneak up to the dormitories.
Luckily for Harry, his dormitory was empty. He packed away his bags and map in
his trunk, then drew out his own bathrobes. Throwing the invisibility cloak
over himself, Harry went through the common room and out the portrait hole. He
ran silently at first, like the other night, in case Hermione or Ron noticed.
It wasn't long before Harry was whispering, "Spic 'n Span" to the door next to
Boris the Bewildered.
Harry tucked the invisibility cloak under his bathrobes before he entered. Sure
enough, the Gryffindor's eyes met with the back of a blond head.
"Oh, back for more? Must really want to catch me naked, Potter!" came the
drawling voice as Harry slipped off his bathrobes. He was sure to wear boxers
in the massive bathtub, this time. He also couldn't help but notice that
Malfoy's mood was significantly lifted.
"No, Malfoy." he muttered, slipping into the bath. This time he stayed in an
area that was so deep he had to stand, only exposed from the top of his
shoulders.
"What did you do to Blaise?" Malfoy asked, an accusatory tone was definite in
his voice, "He's still muttering about beetles and maggots."
Harry smirked, "Served him right."
"First time you did something without help from the Weasel and the Mudblood-"
"Don't call her that!"
"Your boyfriend and that abomination mad at you?" he continued as if he weren't
interrupted.
"Stop it!" Harry snarled, "You may not value your friends, but I do mine!"
Malfoy actually laughed rather than stand up for his band of Slytherins, "Don't
underestimate them, Potter. Mindless cronies can be very useful."
"Those are your friends, you're talking about.” Harry couldn't help but feel
outraged, even for the snide Slytherins, "Why do they let you manipulate them
like that?"
"I've never found it difficult to manipulate my peers." Malfoy continued with a
very casual tone of voice, "I could even manipulate you if I wanted to,
Potter."
"Really?" Harry responded in disbelief, "Then, why haven't you?"
The Slytherin shrugged, "You're in Gryffindor. It was much more amusing to turn
everyone against you."
"You're full of it, Malfoy. I don't believe you. You couldn't manipulate me no
matter how hard you tried."
"Don't test me, Potter."
"Oh, but I am. I'm challenging you right now to manipulate me." Harry had a
smug look on his face, confident that Malfoy was just boasting.
Malfoy turned in his direction. His silver eyes piercing into Harry's green
ones. It wasn't cruel like daggers as he'd experienced most often. It felt as
though Malfoy was peering right into his soul. As he drifted closer, Harry felt
more uneasy.
"Wh- what are you doing?" The confidence in Harry's voice started to flicker.
"I'm not holding my wand." Malfoy exposed his hands to show they were wand-
free. The bubbles on the surface were too dense to see if he had a Dark Mark.
"You don't always need magic to manipulate someone."
As apprehensive as he felt, Harry was too proud to back away from him as Malfoy
drew closer and closer. In fact, he was sure the blond hadn't been this close
to him before, even when they'd gotten into each others' faces. He could make
out the detail of his grey eyes that he'd never noticed before. They awkwardly
reminded Harry of a young. . . Sirius.
No! Impossible! I just still really miss Sirius is all. I'm imagining it.
It's not that farfetched. They are technically related.
It doesn't matter. Malfoy looks like his father, not his mother! So, he can't
look anything like Sirius.
Keep telling yourself that.
The blond was far too close, now. Their noses were almost touching. Yet, they
never broke eye contact. And those eyes. . . Different color, granted, but they
invoked a euphoric sensation. They did look like young Sirius', bringing a
warmth into Harry. Yet, he didn't feel that paternal connection like he did
with his late godfather; it was like. . .
"Get away from me, Malfoy!" The only thing Harry wanted now was Malfoy as far
away from him as possible. If he could do Occlumency, would that mean he could
do Legilimency? He didn't have a wand, though. But, Harry wanted to be as sure
as possible that Malfoy couldn't know the thought that had just crossed his
mind.
Harry lifted his arms to push Malfoy away, but he appeared to have expected
this. Rather than shoving Harry's hands away, he interlaced them within his
own.
The Gryffindor was left pinned against the edge of the pool-sized bath. Before
he could comprehend what was going on, he found Malfoy's lips pressed against
his own.
Malfoy definitely wasn't using all his strength. In fact, he was being very
gentle, something very unlike him.
A confliction of emotion overcame Harry. A part of him wanted to push Malfoy
away, then punch him for such a lewd display of behavior. Yet, another part of
him wanted to pull him in closer.
Although, only a few moments had passed, it felt like an eternity. There was
the tiniest sound of shattering glass. It was only when Harry squeezed Malfoy's
hands back and closed his eyes, that the blond pulled back.
"I knew you were queer!"
"Wha- You kissed me!" Harry shouted defensively, still not quite sure what just
happened.
"Yeah and you liked it, didn't you, Potter? Closing your eyes, squeezing my
hands, not to mention. . ." Malfoy jerked his head toward the chandelier. Harry
wasn't sure what he was implying; the chandelier appeared the same.
"You're sick, Malfoy!" Harry snarled, shoving the Slytherin away from him.
Malfoy didn't bother defending himself. He just floated, laughing derisively.
When he was out of the giant bathtub, Harry threw on his bathrobes. He didn't
dare so much as look back of Malfoy. The invisibility cloak wasn't thrown on
until after he stepped in the corridors.
The common room was empty by the time he got upstairs. The Gryffindors were
already asleep in his dormitory. Harry sat with his wand lit on his four
poster, the photo album Hagrid gave him on his lap.
Sirius beamed at him from the photograph taken at his parents' wedding.
Harry grumbled Sirius' eyes look nothing like Malfoy's!
He was disgusted, repulsed by the very idea and more so by his and Malfoy's
encounter. Although, the more he tried to put it out of his mind, the more he
could remember it, the tenderness of Malfoy's lips, the blond's skin against
his own, so smooth and flawless. The replaying memory sent a small jolt of
butterflies in his stomach. Harry convinced himself this was due to revulsion,
not excitement.
***** Chapter 3 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter has been betaed by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
Harry made a point to be elusive on Sunday. He knew he should be getting his
homework finished, but didn't want to see anybody that day. Rumors flew rapidly
throughout Hogwarts. If so much as a whisper of what happened in the prefects'
bathroom drifted into a single person's ear, the entire student body would be
shouting about it by lunch time.
Sunday might have made it easy to avoid human contact, but Monday wouldn't be
so lucky.
Harry put off getting dressed and going to breakfast for as long as he possibly
could. If only they hadn't destroyed all the time-tuners in the Department of
Mysteries, then he could wait even longer. Or, better yet, prevent himself from
going to the prefects' bathroom that night, altogether.
When he reached the Great Hall, everyone chatted and ate their breakfast as
they normally would. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until Harry spotted Ron
and Hermione. They were huddled close together and appeared to be whispering
frantically to one another. They had noticed Harry, and their eyes were glazed
over with the most curious expression.
Harry could feel a jerk of fear in his stomach, stronger than that of a
Portkey. They already knew.
"Oi, Harry?" Ron called out when he approached them.
"Nothing happened!" Harry immediately retorted, "I just took a bath on Saturday
night, then went to bed!"
"Um. . . Okay?" Ron's look of curiosity transformed into confusion, "I was just
going to ask where you were yesterday."
"Oh." Harry felt immensely relieved, "I was. . . Er- sick! I was in the
hospital wing."
Ron didn't reply. He and Hermione looked at each other curiously, then back to
Harry apprehensively.
As Harry sat down to eat his breakfast he couldn't help but think that Ron and
Hermione wouldn't be so suspicious of his whereabouts if he hadn't had that
defensive outburst at Ron.
That morning's breakfast was just as ordinary as ever. Word of Malfoy and
Harry's kiss must have stayed between them. Harry would occasionally glance
back at the Slytherin table where Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini chatted
animatedly. Crabbe and Goyle looked annoyed, and Malfoy seemed down like the
first night Harry met him in the bathroom.
Making a mental note to not so much as look at Malfoy, Harry soon found out
that was very difficult. The more he encountered him and forced himself not to
look; the more he'd find his eyes idly drifting toward him. This didn't help
when they arrived in Defense Against the Dark Arts as they shared the class.
"Potter!"
Harry jerked out of his daze to see a very flustered Professor Snape.
"If you could please stop staring at Mr. Malfoy like a slobbering school girl,
could you answer the question?"
The entire class erupted with laughter. Snape insulting Harry was usually means
for only Slytherins to laugh. But, even the Gryffindors were amused by this
comment. The only ones not laughing were Ron and Hermione, whose faces were
frozen with shock, also Malfoy, who looked absolutely horrified.
"Harry?" Ron asked after the bell rang, "Why were you staring at Malfoy like
that?"
"I wasn't staring at him, Ron!" Harry snapped, "You know how Snape is. He's
always out to get me."
"Harry," Hermione tried to make her voice sound as comforting as possible, "you
were staring at Malfoy. Everybody noticed. That's why they all laughed, even
the Gryffindors."
"I- I'm still just trying to figure out what he's up to." Harry replied, "I was
thinking about it, and I must have been staring at him unconsciously."
"You're not still on about the whole Malfoy-is-a-Death-Eater thing again, are
you?" Despite Ron's annoying disbelief, Harry felt relieved at how quickly they
believed his excuse.
The next few days were followed with many taunts about Harry's idle staring.
Each comment forced Harry to fill with rage that he wanted to take out on
Snape.
"Watch out, Draco! Potter fancies you!" Pansy Parkinson wickedly laughed one
day, clutching desperately to Malfoy's arm.
"Whoever knew that Potter had eyes for Draco?" Blaise Zabini called out from
the Slytherin table during lunch another time.
Harry couldn't help but notice that Malfoy wasn't laughing with the rest of
them. It was odd; he would've thought Malfoy would've relished the idea and
been keen to harass him especially about it. But, the blond's expressions were
usually of forced smiles.
After about a week, the novelty of Harry fancying Malfoy feebly died, in which
Harry was only too thankful.
It was also lucky that Harry had been so embarrassed that he hadn't looked at
the Marauder's Map in all that time. The idea of seeing Draco Malfoy's name was
enough to make him blush. This gave him ample time to do his homework and spend
time with Ron and Hermione.
Yet, no matter how badly he wanted to, he still couldn't pull himself away from
the memory of Malfoy kissing him in the prefects' bathroom.
Why do you keep thinking about it? It was disgusting! Force it out of your
mind! Harry kept screaming inside his head, while he lay on his four poster,
one particularly sleepless night. He was half tempted to hold his wand to his
head and try to curse out the memory. But, he didn't for the reasoning that it
would be a completely idiotic thing to do.
                                     -----
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked Ron at lunch the next day.
"In the library." Ron told him, grabbing his bag and standing up, "I'm s'posed
to go meet her. Wanna come?"
"No thanks, I'm busy." Harry replied.
Ron shrugged and walked out of the Great Hall. After finishing his lunch, Harry
decided to go walk about the corridors.
He knew lunch was ending soon and that he'd have to go back to class. He
decided to start walking to the Gryffindor common room when he noticed voices
coming from the boy's bathroom. One of them was a drawling voice and the other
a woman's voice.
Harry poked his head through the doorway. Instantly, a blond head turned around
to face him.
"Who were you talking to?" Harry asked, stepping fully inside the bathroom.
"I wasn't talking to anybody, Potter!" Malfoy defensively replied, "What are
you doing here?"
"It's a restroom, Malfoy."
"Get out! Leave me alone!" Malfoy reached for his wand in his robes.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, disarming Malfoy before he had any chance of
jinxing him. "Look, can I talk to you?"
"About your gay crush on me?" Malfoy scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"No! I mean- I wanted to talk about the other night in the prefects' bathroom."
Harry said.
"You took it too seriously, Potter."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I simply mean that I was proving that I could manipulate you easily. I kissed
you, and you loved it. You submitted almost immediately."
"No, I didn'- You only kissed me to prove a point?"
"Of course. What did you think?" A smirk drew across Malfoy's face, "Did you
think I actually wanted to kiss you? Or did you hope?"
"I didn't- No! It was disgusting!" Harry bitterly clenched his teeth.
Malfoy threw his head back with laughter, "You were hoping, weren't you? I
could tell you loved it. The way you made that piece of the chandelier
shatter."
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Sorry, Potter, I don't share those feelings. I like women, see? Pansy's always
hanging off my arm for a reason. Were you hoping I'd hold you close? The way
your Mudblood mother would've-"
"Stupefy!" A jet of red light shot into Malfoy's stomach. Harry didn't care if
he'd really hurt him or not. He stormed back to the Gryffindor Tower and waited
with silent rage until it was time for him to go back to class.
                                     -----
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"You remember three years ago? When I accidentally blew up my Aunt Marge
because she made me really angry?" Harry had decided to wait until he could
talk to Hermione without Ron. Currently, Hermione was working on homework in
the common room while Ron was playing Exploding Snap with Neville.
"Yeah, what about it?" Hermione said, not taking her eyes away from her
parchment.
"Can stuff like that happen, the unintentional magic that is, if you're
experiencing another emotion? Like if you were really happy or something?"
"Yes, but it has to be really strong." Hermione pulled away from her parchment
and stared at the ceiling with a whimsical expression on her face, "Before I
found out I was a witch, there was this boy I fancied. Anyway, one day some
kids were being mean to me, and he stood up for me. Then, he gave me a flower.
I was so excited that the petals blew off like a small blast. I didn't realize
what had happened at the time, but now I do."
Harry couldn't stop thinking about what Hermione said as he lay awake on his
four poster. The way Malfoy jerked his head toward the chandelier that night in
the prefects' bathroom and use that as his reasoning that Harry liked their
kiss.
He did remember hearing a small shatter of glass when the blond kissed him. The
chandelier looked the same, but it was possible that only one of the small
glass pieces burst. Did that mean he liked it when Malfoy kissed him?
It didn't matter. The Slytherin made it perfectly clear what he thought of
kissing Harry, also the way he insulted his mother. Remembering that comment
made Harry's fury boil again and forget about the possibility that he liked
Malfoy's kiss.
The weekend brought Quidditch practice and time to completely forget about
Malfoy. Of course, this was only temporary. Once alone time came, Harry found
himself with the Marauder's Map. He swore he was only trying to find Malfoy to
catch him on whatever evil scheme he was working on.
He continued with this ritual throughout the next week. It was completely
futile. If Malfoy was actually on the map, he was never doing anything
suspicious.
Every time he passed the blond in the corridors, he was sure to ignore him or
give him an angry glare. But, Malfoy didn't return this unspoken hostility.
He'd always look away and, more times than not, his head was down. This was
especially odd, considering Malfoy was the type to always hold his head up
high.
"Why do you keep looking for Malfoy?" Ron asked, idly shooting red sparks from
his wand, one night in the common room.
"You know why, Ron." Harry muttered. He hadn't cared if Ron and Hermione gave
him a hard time for searching for Malfoy. After going well over half the year
with hardly any leads, he was determined now more than ever. He'd make sure
Malfoy paid for his crimes and regret ever insulting Harry's mother. He swore
he never liked Malfoy, only hated him.
"It's just getting weird, Harry. You've been looking for him on that map a lot,
lately. Then what Snape said. . . It's just weird."
"It's not like that, Ron!" Harry angrily shouted, throwing down the map, "He's
up to something! You know it! When I catch him, you're going to feel like a
great big prat!" Harry snatched the map and stormed upstairs to the
dormitories.
"Quit denying it, Harry. You loved our kiss."
"I did not, Malfoy. I hated it! I hate you!"
"Who are you trying to convince, Harry? Me or you?"
Malfoy and Harry had been standing in the boy's bathroom. Then, they were
suddenly nude in the prefects' bathroom. The blond had his arms wrapped around
Harry's neck.
"Get off me, Malfoy!" Harry frantically hit Malfoy with his fists, but they
didn't affect him at all.
Malfoy smiled pleasantly at Harry and wrapped one of his hands around the back
of his head. He pulled Harry close and locked their lips more passionately than
before.
Immediately, Harry stopped struggling and pulled the blond in closer. He parted
his mouth slightly so that he could gently suckle on Malfoy's bottom lip.
The entire chandelier exploded violently. The grain-sized shards of glass then
began to flicker into tiny white stars. They elegantly fell over Malfoy and
Harry in slow motion.
Harry gasped and quickly sat up on his bed. Beads of sweat covered his
forehead. That dream, it was so real and. . . he liked it when Malfoy kissed
him.
Grabbing his pillow, he shoved it over his lap, trying to ignore the throbbing
erection under his pajamas. He needed to go to the prefects' bathroom and take
a bath, an extremely cold bath.
***** Chapter 4 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter has been betaed by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
Tapping his knee impatiently, Harry thought the prefects' bathtub couldn't have
filled any slower. Even casting Aquamenti wasn't enough to make the massive tub
fill any faster. Harry lifted the hem of his bath robes to his knees. Sitting
right on the edge of the tub, the soles of his feet barely skimmed the water.
It was ice cold to the touch, just the way he wanted it. His boxers felt
unnaturally tight around his crotch. The image of the blond in his dream was
still fresh in his mind. He wished his erection would go down; the last thing
he wanted to do was wank to thoughts of Malfoy. His eyes drifted to the spot
that he and Malfoy first kissed. This forced his dick to throb uncontrollably
and very painfully. Harry forced himself to look away. But, even with his eyes
clenched shut, the fine details of Malfoy's face flashed before him. As the
bathtub filled at an extremely slow rate, Harry grew tense. Even with the icy
cold water risen to his ankles, it wasn't enough to negate the images of his
dream. The thought of the smoothness of Malfoy’s bare skin against his own made
him shiver. Harry couldn't take it anymore. He slipped his hand in his robes
and gripped his cock under his boxers. He stroked himself aggressively,
picturing every little detail of Draco Malfoy. His silver eyes, his flawless
skin, how absolutely lush his lips felt against his own, even the way his eyes
curiously reminded him of Sirius. With his eyes closed, Harry moaned softly.
His tongue slid across his bottom lip, desperately trying to remember the taste
of Malfoy's lips against his own. There was no denying it now; he loved their
first kiss. He could hear plenty of bursts. Certain that he was causing many of
the glass pieces of the chandelier to shatter, he didn't care. No one was here.
It was just him, wanking himself to every thought of Malfoy that he could
imagine. Harry could feel his pulse pound through his shaft against his hand.
At any moment he expected to hear a loud explosion. . . "My God, Potter! Have
you any decency?" came a drawling voice. The massive explosion never came.
Harry could feel his face burn the brightest scarlet. He didn't want to so much
as turn around and look at the blond. He had just got caught wanking off by
Malfoy. Harry felt very confident that he knew who he was thinking about, no
Legilimency necessary. His breathing intensified. He didn't know what to say.
What could he really say? His hard-on throbbed worse than ever, and Harry
couldn't do anything to satisfy himself now. "Calm down, Potter. You're such a
prude." Malfoy sat down next to him, lifting his bathrobes so he could wade his
own feet, "Why the hell did you make the water so damn cold?" Once again, Harry
felt himself incapable of speaking. The only thing he wanted right now was to
be as far away from Malfoy as possible. If only he were old enough to Apparate.
Not that he could Apparate inside Hogwarts, as Hermione constantly reminded
him. Yet, he felt completely unable to run out of the bathroom as fast as
possible. "Personally," Draco Malfoy stood up, walked over to the bath taps and
started messing with them, "I prefer my baths to be warmer." "I- I think I'll
just go, now." Harry muttered, finally gaining a minute amount of strength to
just turn around and start to stand. "Why? You didn't even come." Malfoy walked
right in front of him. "Okay, Malfoy, you caught me. You and your cronies can
have your laugh tomorrow. Can I go now?" "Hmm, no, I don't think so." A wry
grin spread across his face. "It's not funny. Just let me go!" Harry reached
for his wand in his robes. "Expelliarmus!" This time Malfoy managed to disarm
Harry. But then, he dropped his own wand. Before Harry could figure out what he
was doing, Malfoy had wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist and pressed his free
hand against his erection. Malfoy was taller than Harry, so when he held his
head to the side of the Gryffindor’s, Harry could feel Malfoy's lips against
his ear. "Malfoy! What are you-" "Shut up, Potter. You were thinking about me
when you were touching yourself, weren't you?" Malfoy whispered. Harry could
feel the blond's hand close around his cock through the material of his boxers.
Harry tried to fight back his desire to moan, but let a whimper slip. Malfoy
was right; he could manipulate him too easily. "Admit it or I'll stop."
Malfoy's voice sounded more playful than threatening. "Yes." Harry admitted,
inhaling through his nose. Malfoy's delicate scent turned him on even more.
"And did you like it when I kissed you?" Malfoy then took to gently kissing to
the spot right behind Harry's ear. "Mhmm." Harry shuddered. "I knew it." There
was a large amount of pride in Malfoy's voice, but Harry didn't mind. He much
more taken by the way the blond's lips kept moving from behind his ear down to
his neck. Each kiss he left made Harry shiver. Malfoy took the arm around
Harry's waist and used it to remove the Gryffindor's bath robes. The hand on
Harry's shaft slid up and down very gently. Harry pulled Malfoy in as close as
he could. His lips pressed firmly against Malfoy's collar bone. Thrusting his
hips forward, he pressed his cock stiffly against the blond's hand, indicating
he wanted him to be a bit rougher. Malfoy smirked and drew away. "Get in the
tub, Potter." He ordered, slipping his own bath robes off. He hadn't been
wearing anything underneath, "And take those odd Muggle undergarments off.
They're ghastly." Harry said nothing and quickly did as he was told. The water
was a lot warmer, and he knew the taps would turn off automatically once it was
completely full. He turned around to see Malfoy stepping into the tub after
him. Immediately, he grabbed Harry's shoulders and pinned him against the edge
of the bathtub. Their lips fiercely locked, Harry could feel Malfoy's erection
press stiffly into his stomach. Malfoy parted his lips slightly, then closed
them around the shorter boy's. Harry rubbed the tip of his tongue against the
blond's lip. Following his cues, Malfoy opened his mouth slightly wider to
allow Harry's tongue in. "Mmmm." Harry exhaled through his nose as their
tongues massaged against one another. The warm taste of Malfoy's mouth was
simply invigorating. Malfoy slowly pulled away and took off Harry's glasses,
but he grabbed the taller boy’s hand. "Don't take those off, Malfoy. I want to
look at you." "You really are like a girl, Potter." Malfoy smirked, setting
Harry's glasses next to the tub. "They're getting in the way." "But-" "Shut
up!" "If you say so." Harry replied far too casually, pulling Malfoy close. "I
believe this is what you wanted?" he whispered, grabbing hold of Harry's dick
once more. He nodded, closing his eyes as Malfoy started tracing his ear with
his tongue. The Slytherin's hand felt very delicate against his cock. He didn't
seem keen on making Harry come too quickly. His skin, free of any flaws or
calluses, glided smoothly along Harry's shaft. Harry's breathing grew heavy and
sharp through his nose. The way Malfoy was teasing him was unbearable. If Harry
bit his bottom lip any harder, he might have broken the skin. His hips pressed
firmly forward, practically trapping Malfoy's hand within their bodies and
around his erection. Even with his eyes closed, Harry could tell from the way
Malfoy was breathing, he must have had a broad grin across his face. He
repetitively stopped and tightly clench Harry's cock for a moment, then
continue with his stroking. He could tell the Gryffindor wanted it harder, so
he gradually sped up his movements. Harry's long sensual moan was muffled as he
buried his face into Malfoy's chest. The way he kissed around his ear and the
side of his neck forced Harry to quiver in excitement. With his lips against
the taller boy's collar bone, he couldn't stop himself from lifting enough to
sink his teeth into his shoulder. He could hear Malfoy's voice tremble as he
gasped, suddenly stroking Harry's dick with intense ferocity. Harry groaned
pleasurably, keeping his mouth on Malfoy's shoulder. His skin pinched between
his teeth, Harry savored the perfect flavor which was just as delicate as the
blond's scent. With Malfoy's hand firmly grasped around his shaft and the
pacing of his movements grown to its highest peak, Harry threw his head back to
let out an echoing cry of ecstasy. His eyes wide open, he could then hear the
sound of many pops and shatters echoing wildy about the bathroom. His eyes
sprung wide open, and his head was gently lifted by Malfoy so he could look up
into his eyes. "Every single lantern, Potter, that is impressive." Malfoy
grinned, although Harry could hardly see it. The room had grown considerably
darker. Harry knew that every single flame within the lanterns must have burst,
taking out their glass surroundings as well. "Yeah, I bet I could make you do
more." Harry replied with a smirk, taking Malfoy's hard-on into his own hand.
"What? No, you don't have to-" "It’s your turn to shut up, Malfoy." Harry gave
the other boy's dick a quick squeeze. Then, he let go and grabbed his waist. He
turned so that Malfoy's back was against the tub's edge. Harry had just let
himself become completely vulnerable to him, so he wanted Malfoy to feel the
same. On tiptoes, Harry pressed his lips against Malfoy's. The blond was unable
to resist as he immediately cradled his hands against the bottom of Harry's
head. Harry took this as a positive sign and let his hand envelope Malfoy's
cock once more. Lowering himself, Harry proceeded to kiss Malfoy along his
collarbone. Letting his lips slide across that area, he didn't stop until he
noticed the taller boy's mild quiver when his tongue slid across the base of
his neck. It appeared Malfoy's erogenous zone was across the bottom of his neck
to his shoulder, right where Harry had bit him. Harry let his hand slide down
and cup the blond's balls. Malfoy's eyes closed, and he let out the most
pathetic whimper. Harry knew he must've been teasing Malfoy worse than he had
him. He continued to let Malfoy anticipate by letting his finger tips slowly
caress up and down his shaft. He'd occasionally stop at the base of his cock
and massage around it with his thumb and forefinger. The Slytherin's light
moans could've been mistaken as whines. Harry let four of his fingers wrap
around the front of Malfoy's shaft while his thumb rubbed very firmly across
the back. The blond's chest rose and fell at a quick rate. "Oh God, Potter,
please." he begged. Harry smirked. This reaction was just what he was waiting
for. Biting his lip in concentration, Harry gripped Malfoy's dick and began
jerking him off at an intense rate. Malfoy wrapped his arms around the shorter
boy, his fingers digging into his shoulders. His fast paced breathing was very
unsteady. "Yes! Yes!" The blond fiercely whispered between broken breaths.
Harry made out beads of sweat, glistening across Malfoy's forehead, against the
pale moonlight. The two bodies pressed together generated a lot of heat. A
burning desire to be as close to Malfoy as possible, made Harry lift his leg
against Malfoy's hip. The blond, appearing to feel the same way, instinctively
grabbed Harry's leg to hold him closer. Harry could feel Malfoy's balls pressed
against his stomach as he managed to pull the blond's cock ever more
aggressively. Malfoy tilted his head down to envelope Harry's lip in his own.
Less sensual and much more exotic, their lips and tongues entwined together
with much more fervency. Harry broke away from the kiss. He could tell by the
way Malfoy's entire body trembled he was about to come. Harry's lips found the
spot where he had bitten into the taller boy earlier, and he couldn't bring
himself to resist sinking his teeth in again. "Yes!" Malfoy shouted, his elated
voice echoing off the walls. Harry looked up, a great lifting feeling welled up
inside his stomach. He felt as light as air as he caught the dramatic
expression in Malfoy's silver eyes as he came. Unable to suppress an intense
gasp of his own, Harry could feel the nails that were dug in his shoulders
harshly being pulled down his back. Yet, the slashes made him feel exhilarated
rather than in pain. The two boys were covered in sweat. The heat of their
passion escalated to a monumental level. In fact, Harry thought it felt too
hot. Leaning to the side, Harry swiftly lunged out of the bathtub, one arm
wrapped around Malfoy to pull him out, too. The Gryffindor looked back at the
bathtub. Stunned with disbelief, Harry could see just enough without his
glasses that the water was literally boiling. "Jesus, Malfoy! Are you trying to
kill us?" "I didn't do it on purpose!" Malfoy snapped, standing up and grabbing
his bath robes. Harry snatched his own bath robes, then felt around for his
glasses. The rims were dark which didn't help that they were on a dark floor.
But then, he felt Malfoy’s smooth finger tips brush against the sides of his
head as he put his glasses back on for him. Malfoy took Harry's hand and helped
him back up. "Nobody can find out about us, Potter." He said. Harry chuckled,
"I wasn't planning on telling anybody." "You don't realize the severity. If the
Dark Lord found out-" Malfoy continued, but Harry wasn't paying attention. A
jolt of fear shot from head to toe. Malfoy was right. The consequences could be
much worse than simply the whole school making fun of them. "Malfoy, I
understand. I won't tell a soul. I swear." The tone of Harry's voice sounded
much more serious. "Good." Malfoy firmly replied. His grey eyes took Harry in
for a moment. He appeared to be contemplating if he should tell the shorter boy
goodnight or give him a goodnight kiss. Apparently unable to bring himself to
do either, he turned toward the door to leave. "Er-" Harry managed to get out.
He felt disappointed that Malfoy chose to do neither, yet not really surprised.
"Wait! This room is a mess. We have to repair it." "I don't have to repair
anything, Potter! That's servants' work." "But, if someone sees this--" "The
house-elves will take care of it. That's what they're here for." Malfoy's
drawling voice interrupted before he left the bathroom. Not even a night of
passionate wanking could tame the superiority complex of Draco Malfoy.
***** Chapter 5 *****
This chapter has been betaed by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
"Whoa, Harry! Is that where you've been sneaking off to this entire time?" Dean
Thomas asked the next morning. "What?" Harry turned around to face Dean,
slipping his white button-up shirt over his shoulders. Dean, Neville, Seamus
and Ron stood grouped in a tight knit. Their eyes expanded wide, and their
faces smeared with excited grins. "Those scratch marks on your back!" Seamus
threw in animatedly, "You've been off snogging some bird, haven't ya?" "Yeah."
Harry tried to sound as casual as possible. He'd completely forgotten about
Malfoy clawing his back last night and hadn't even bothered trying to cover it
up. "C'mon, Mate." Ron socked him playfully on the shoulder, "Who's the lucky
girl?" "Er-" A list of names ran through Harry's head. Whom could he possibly
say that the boys wouldn't go and question? "Eloise Midgen." He told them
quickly, regretting it as soon as the name left his lips. The overly
enthusiastic faces of the Gryffindors instantly contracted into expressions of
disgust. "I was about to round on you for not telling me." Ron's face was the
most repulsed of them all, "But, now I understand why." Harry couldn't bring
himself to suppress a grin for his life. If this were true, he'd probably be
very angry at Ron for saying such a thing. But, as it was a lie, he couldn't
help but find it amusing.
                                     -----
Hermione met with Ron and Harry in the common room. As the three of them
entered the Great Hall, Harry's eyes instinctively drifted toward the Slytherin
table.
His gaze met the back of Malfoy's blond head. Pansy Parkinson was resting her
head on his shoulder, with her arm wrapped around his waist. Harry's jaw
twitched as jealousy shot into his chest like a bullet. He knew that Malfoy
didn't want anybody to know, but did he have to let that pug-faced girl hang
all over him?
"Hey, Eloise!" Ron called. Eloise turned her head to Ron who gave her a thumbs-
up. Her eyes darted away as if he were completely mad. "Shy type, huh?" Ron
leaned toward Harry, lightly jabbing him in the ribs with his elbow.
"What's he talking about?" Hermione looked absolutely baffled.
Harry nervously adjusted his glasses. Why did I have to tell him that?
Ron looked back at Harry curiously, then shrugged. He appeared to assume that
Harry didn't want anyone else to know.
The morning passed as usually as any other day. Lunch time gave Harry another
chance to sneak a glance at Malfoy, who still kept his back turned to him and
let Parkinson clutch to him.
Plenty of students, girls especially, looked in Harry's direction and giggled.
His stomach clenching, Harry felt that his morning lie had completely
backfired. Harry occasionally glanced at the Slytherin table anxiously,
wondering if the Eloise rumor had spread there. If so, he wondered if Malfoy
actually believed it to be true.
He was quite happy to walk into Potions that afternoon. With a significantly
lower student populace, gossip could be kept to a minimum. Also, Malfoy was
there and free of Pansy Parkinson.
Harry noticed that Malfoy wouldn't so much as glance in his direction. It drove
him crazy. He deeply yearned for even one of the blond's common loathing
glares. Any excuse for them to just have a moment of eye contact would suffice
him.
"Harry, m'boy!" Professor Slughorn pranced over with his normal jolly
expression, "I expect your concoction is brilliant, as always?" He tilted his
head over the edge of Harry's cauldron. His beaming face fell, "Must just be a
bad day. They come, and they go."
"Yeah." Harry muttered. Professor Slughorn didn't realize how right he was.
Last night was absolutely wonderful to Harry. He went to bed feeling swept off
his feet. He hadn't counted on how awkward the next day was going to be. Now,
he was too distracted to mix his potion ingredients correctly, even with the
Half-Blood Prince's perfect instructions.
The bell rang and Harry quickly followed behind Ron and Hermione. Harry
approached the doorway when Malfoy needlessly shoved his shoulder into him.
"So rude." Hermione scowled. But, Harry felt as if in a daze for their brief
moment of contact.
As the trio headed into the Entrance Hall, Ron was talking up a storm. Harry
was suddenly stopped by Hermione clutching his arm. He glanced in her direction
and noticed a look of utmost concern all over her face. She silently led them
to the great oak front doors. Ron had proceeded up the marble staircase,
blissfully oblivious that he walked at his lonesome.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry asked. But, she didn't reply. She kept
leading him toward the Black Lake. When they reached the edge, she sat down.
"What's this all about?" Harry sat down next to her.
"Word has it. You’re snogging Eloise Midgen." Hermione said, looking straight
ahead.
"No!" Harry answered way too quickly, "I mean, yes!" How severely he regretted
lying this morning.
"I didn't think so. Which leads me to wonder, where have you been sneaking off
to?" Hermione tilted her head slightly in his direction.
"I haven't been sneaking off anywhere. I take a bath in the prefects' bathroom,
sometimes. But-"
"You've been glancing over at Malfoy an awful lot today." she interrupted,
"When he shoved you after Potions, you looked like you were swooning."
"What are you trying to say?!" Harry defensively asked, jumping to his feet.
Hermione shook her head and stood up, "Look Harry, I'm worried. At first, I
thought you were truly only looking after Malfoy because you thought he was a
Death Eater. But, now-"
"Are you excusing me of stalking him again?!" Harry screamed, feeling outraged.
"Yes, I am!" Hermione shouted back.
Harry was stunned. He hadn't expected her to say that.
"I think you have a crush on him!" she continued.
"What? I'm not queer!"
"I'm only bringing this up because I'm really scared for you.” she said,
“Malfoy's a cruel boy; he comes from a cruel family. He's a Death Eater!"
"Wait!" Harry could hardly believe his ears, "You said you didn't believe he
was a Death Eater."
"I didn't think so at first. But, I don't know. You can't be too sure, either
way. The point is, if he is, then you can't let yourself become vulnerable to
him!"
Harry tutted, "You don't know what you're talking about!"
"Harry, please!" Hermione desperately grabbed the front of his robes, "Be
sensible! You know how Malfoy is!"
"You're wrong about him, Hermione!" Harry grabbed her wrists and shoved her
back.
Hermione stayed silent for several moments with her face in her hands. When she
looked up, tears streaked down her cheeks, "I'm scared, Harry. I don't want to
see you get hurt. . . and I don't just mean physically!"
Remorse overcame Harry like a violent hurricane. Hermione was so smart, and he
knew what she meant when she said that she was worried about him getting hurt.
He wrapped his arms around her, "I'm sorry." He quietly said, the shame from
his aggressive behavior highly apparent in his voice.
"It's okay." Hermione sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robes,
"Let's go back inside. I expect Ron's realized he's talking to himself by now."
That evening Harry sat holding a huge stack of parchment. With his books
cleverly lined around him, he lay the Marauder's Map flat on the table. He
could see it clearly, but to an outsider, he appeared to be doing his homework.
Emotions ran high within Harry's head. Pansy Parkinson's name was right next to
Draco Malfoy's in the Slytherin common room. Harry could only hope that they
were merely next to one another.
But, the thought of his and Hermione's argument also plagued him. Hermione
claimed she now suspected Malfoy was a Death Eater. But did Harry? Or was it
more or less that he no longer wanted to believe he was?
Their night in the prefects' bathroom had Harry far too distracted to even
check his forearm. As he sat there staring at Malfoy's name on the map, he
wondered whether or not he'd get the opportunity to check again. He feared that
Malfoy had already forgotten about the intimate moment they shared.
Ron decided he wasn't on speaking terms with Harry or Hermione at the moment.
He rounded on them the second they had re-entered the portrait hole. Hermione
quickly made the excuse that they thought Ron had ditched them. He didn't buy
it. Harry felt guilty, but at the same time was admittedly glad the redhead
wasn't peaking over his shoulder.
Hermione was working on her own homework alone. Although she had forgiven Harry
for his outburst, she would still send over anxious leers. He knew she only
meant the best for him, but Harry still found it annoying.
Draco Malfoy's name finally moved on the map. He and Pansy Parkinson parted to
their respective dormitories. Harry's heart pounded. He nervously bit his lip
in anticipation, hoping to see Malfoy's dot heading back downstairs.
The density of people in the Gryffindor common room lessened as the evening
grew darker. The inaudible sound of various students conversing among
themselves was soon replaced with howling winds racketing against the windows.
Looking up, Harry noticed only he, Hermione and one other were sitting in the
common room. Eloise Midgen walked straight up to him. Harry swallowed
nervously, unsure of what she was going to say to him.
But, Eloise didn't say anything. She smacked him across the face and stormed up
to the girls' dormitories. Hermione gasped and stood up quickly.
"Don't worry, Hermione." Harry muttered rubbing the sore spot on his cheek, "I
definitely deserved that."
Hermione sighed, her eyes raised with pity. She packed her books and parchment
into her bag, then walked over to Harry. He immediately covered the Marauder's
Map with his arms. The expression on her face indicated that she already knew
he had been looking at it.
"I'm going to bed." She said, the pity in her eyes not wavering in the
slightest.
"Okay, goodnight." He said.
Hermione turned and walked toward the girls' dormitories. She stopped at the
bottom of the staircase. Harry didn't take his eyes off of her. He didn't want
to watch the map until she was out of sight. Rather than walking up the stairs,
Hermione turned back around and walked over to Harry.
"Look." Her tone of voice as warm as possible, "I'm not prejudice. If you're
interested in boys, I have nothing against-"
"It's not like that, Hermione!" Harry snapped. Yet, he realized that assuming
Hermione still believed him was extremely naive.
Hermione sighed, "Okay," The smile across her face, as kind as it may have
been, was obviously forced, "I believe you. You don't like boys. Just don't
stay up too late, er- doing homework, okay? You don't want to drain yourself."
"Yeah, I won't." Harry's tone shied from the emphasis Hermione had put on
'doing homework'.
Once Hermione departed, Harry's green eyes immediately drew back to the
Marauder's Map. The Slytherin dormitories were so full that he couldn't tell if
Malfoy was among them or not. It was possible that the blond had left while
Harry was speaking to Hermione, so he decided to check the rest of the map.
The prefects' bathroom was completely empty. The only names wandering the
corridors were the school ghosts, Filch and Mrs. Norris.
Harry curled his hand into a fist and smacked against the top of his books. Why
wasn't Malfoy trying to meet him somewhere tonight? He hoped that whatever the
Slytherin was doing, he felt just as tortured by not being together.
                                     -----
"Get away, Potter! Draco's my boyfriend!" Pansy Parkinson shrieked, then
started laughing madly. Yet, her cackle projected with a tone of greater
maturity. Harry had heard that laugh before, but not from Parkinson.
She latched onto Draco Malfoy's arm, who was also laughing hysterically. It
wasn't his proud and arrogant voice, though. It sounded high pitched and
sadistic.
Parkinson and Malfoy's faces kept contorting; the sight was awkward. Their eyes
didn't look anything like theirs. They were glowing and left Harry feeling
completely frightened.
Harry didn't know where he was. It was pure black everywhere around them. An
unknown source of light feebly shined enough for him to see the two Slytherins.
Malfoy lunged forward and landed on his stomach. His body melted and reformed
into a snake. It hissed, then quickly coiled itself around Harry.
"Harry!" Hermione had suddenly Apparated on the spot.
Harry woke with a start. He peeled his face off the Marauder's Map. The side of
his face was very sweaty. There was the tiniest ray of sun beaming through the
windows over the horizon. Harry’s focus turned to Hermione who looked
extraordinarily pale.
"You were shouting at people in your sleep." She said.
"Let me guess." Harry assumed Hermione knew as much already, "Pansy Parkinson
and Draco Malfoy?"
"No, actually."
"No?"
"You were saying. . ." Hermione hesitated. Her voice was filled with fear,
"Bellatrix. . . and Voldemort."
"No, I wasn't. I was dreaming about--" Harry stopped suddenly realizing he
didn't want to divulge the details of his dream to Hermione.
"I came down here because I knew you were going to stay up too late. . . doing
homework." Hermione suddenly couldn't bring herself to look into Harry's eyes,
"If you go to your dormitory now, you'll still have another hour or so to
sleep."
"Okay." Harry sighed. He knew she was right. He tapped the map, whispering,
"Mischief Managed." then packed his belongings and went to his dormitory.
He was unable to fall back to sleep on his four poster. He was so sure that his
dream was just caused by his anxious emotions. But, then why would he be
shouting "Bellatrix" and "Voldemort"?
The week passed at an extremely slow rate. Nothing that happened was out of the
ordinary. But, Draco Malfoy still ignored Harry and didn’t make an attempt to
meet him somewhere. With each passing day of no contact with Malfoy, the weight
in Harry's stomach would sink lower and lower.
Ron completely forgot about being skived. He always was in a chipper mood, so
Harry tried to pretend that he was as well. He didn't question Harry's
behavior. But, Harry noticed Hermione constantly throwing him furtive glances.
They hadn't spoken about Draco Malfoy or Harry's dream since the morning she
found him in the common room. But, Harry could tell from her facial expressions
and body language that Hermione hadn't forgotten about it.
                                     -----
When Friday night approached, Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room at a
table with Ron and Hermione. He decided that actually doing homework, rather
than just pretending, might help him take his mind off of Malfoy. It didn’t
work. Harry's thoughts just couldn't stray away from the blond. Nonetheless, he
did manage to get a good chunk of his homework sorted.
By this time, most students would've been in bed. But, as it was Friday, the
common room grew exceptionally rowdy. Harry had put away his books and homework
before returning to the common room.
Ron sat with the other Gryffindors from their dormitory, playing with various
Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products. Hermione either didn't notice or didn't care
as her nose was deep in a large book.
The group of boys neglected to notice Harry come back down to the common room.
He didn't mind as he wasn't especially interested in playing with them at the
moment.
Harry removed the Marauder's Map from his pocket. He had been trying to
convince himself not to look at it, as he feared he'd only be getting his hopes
up. But, with nothing to keep him distracted, he soon found himself tapping the
map and whispering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Immediately, Hermione's eyes peaked over her book. But then, she decided to
just keep reading.
Harry's heart leapt. The dot labeled Draco Malfoy was alone in the Slytherin
common room and walking out into the corridors. "Mischief managed." he
whispered, jumping to his feet and stuffing the map back into his pocket. He
didn't think about how out of place he looked running so suddenly toward the
portrait hole.
"Where are you going?" came an accusatory voice right behind him. Harry turned
to see that Ron had followed him.
Harry stood frozen. He couldn't think of a single excuse. Then, he noticed
Hermione walking toward them; she tugged on Ron's elbow, "Harry has another
meeting with Dumbledore tonight. Don't you remember?" she whispered.
"Uh. . . Yeah." Ron was clearly lying since Harry knew Hermione was lying. But,
he must have believed her and didn't want to appear uninformed.
"I'll escort you, Harry." Hermione said, grabbing Harry's wrist and leading him
to the portrait hole. Ron tried to follow, but she turned to him, "You have to
stay here and monitor the common room, Ron."
"Why?" Ron dropped his jaw, looking as if he were scandalized.
"Because, you're a prefect, too. I'm escorting, Harry." Hermione sounded
annoyed.
"Whatever." Ron rolled his eyes, then went back to join Seamus, Dean and
Neville.
Hermione kept nervously looking over her shoulder at the portrait of the Fat
Lady to make sure they weren't followed. They walked a fair distance away
before she stopped to talk to Harry.
"You're going to meet Malfoy, aren't you?" she asked.
"Yes." Harry didn't see the point in denying it, anymore. He didn't technically
break his promise to Malfoy. Hermione was clever; she figured it out on her
own, "Don't try and stop me."
"I wasn't going to." Hermione sighed and hesitated for a moment. Then she
managed to pluck up the courage to say, "Even though I don't personally
understand why, if you fancy Draco Malfoy I. . . I respect that, because you're
my friend."
"Thanks, Hermione." Harry replied, truly happy now that Hermione did know. He
wrapped his arms around her.
Hermione hugged him back so tight, Harry found it hard to breathe, "Just
promise me, that you'll be careful, okay?"
"I promise." Harry managed to get out even though his lungs were being
compacted.
"You're almost an adult. I trust you can take care of yourself. Just- please,
please, PLEASE be careful!"
"I will, Hermione. You're suffocating me!" Harry was literally struggling to
breathe.
"Sorry." Hermione chuckled and drew away, "I'll see you tomorrow morning,
then?"
"Yep." Harry said, nodding her goodnight and pulling his invisibility cloak out
of his school robes' pocket. "And. . . Thanks for covering for me."
"No problem. Just do a better job hiding those scratch marks this time."
Hermione giggled, heading back to the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Er- yeah." Harry replied, slipping on his invisibility cloak. With his face
burning bright red, he couldn't believe that she just said that.
                                     -----
Like an elegant stream, the running water from the taps of the bathtub produced
the only sound in the prefects' bathroom. Harry sat alone, shooting green
sparks from his wand in boredom. The light of the lanterns flickered dancing
shadows across the wall. They had been repaired since his and Malfoy's last
encounter.
He had been disappointed to find the bathroom empty, but thought, perhaps, he
had just got here first. The minutes passed slowly, and Harry found with each
passing second he grew more and more crestfallen. It was quite some time before
the bathtub was nearly full, yet not the faintest sign of Draco Malfoy revealed
itself.
Harry soon found himself with his nose practically touching the Marauder's Map.
He didn't see Malfoy anywhere around the corridors leading to the bathroom. He
even checked the Slytherin common room and didn't see his name there, either.
Harry searched many corridors, even if they were far from Malfoy's probable
destinations. Malfoy appeared to have disappeared from the map. Harry thought
perhaps he returned to the Slytherin dormitories where he wouldn’t be able to
see his name out from the rest.
The corridors were unnaturally quiet. Harry wandered aimlessly beneath his
invisibility cloak. Harry's footsteps thudded against the carpet without
casting a single echo. Although, the dead silence was unnerving, he wasn't
ready to go back to the Gryffindor Tower.
Feeling like a fool, Harry dreaded explaining anything to Hermione. He had
assumed that when he saw Malfoy leave his own common room, that the blond was
looking for him. With Hermione suddenly supporting his decision to pursue his
feelings for Malfoy, Harry didn't even want to imagine her reaction to his
disappointment.
A gleam of white caught the corner of Harry's eye. Turning on the spot, he felt
curious to see the source. A great black door stood cracked open to a room
Harry didn't recognize.
The old door creaked as the Gryffindor slowly opened it. The room had a stale
scent. Although there were a few desks, it appeared to be long since abandoned.
The bright white reflection of the moonlight met with Harry's green eyes. It
was The Mirror of Erised. He remembered Dumbledore's warning, but curiosity
engulfed him. He'd never questioned its whereabouts after his first year. Yet,
five years passed since then, and Harry wondered what would be cast back to him
now.
Rolling the invisibility cloak and placing it in his pocket, Harry ran straight
for the mirror. After a moment, Harry's family came into view behind him. At
the front of the crowd stood Lily, James and Sirius. They beamed at him, each
warmly placing a hand on his shoulders. He raised his hands to his shoulders,
but the images in the mirror weren't truly there.
Harry smacked his hands over his face. He regretted not turning away the moment
he saw the mirror. The idea of seeing his lost loved ones originally seemed
uplifting. Tears poured down his cheeks, despair eating him from the inside
out.
"I know your reflection isn't nearly as appealing as mine, but it's not worth
crying over, Potter." came a drawling voice.
***** Chapter 6 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter has been betaed by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
A/N: If anybody would like email updates for when new chapters are posted and
such, email me at k_baiu@yahoo.com with your email addy. :)
Harry drew his hands down his face and saw that his family no longer cast from
the mirror. In the doorway, Draco Malfoy stood silhouetted against the
moonlight pouring in from the windows of the corridors. "What are you doing
down here, Malfoy?!" Harry snapped. Moments ago, the idea of seeing Malfoy
excited him but seeing him now only angered Harry. "I could ask the same of
you, Potter." His silver eyes met with Harry's through the reflection of the
mirror. "Go away." Harry muttered through gritted teeth. Malfoy shrugged
instead of verbally responding. Contrary to what Harry assumed, Malfoy stepped
forward rather than turning away. His delicate features came into clearer view
as he neared the Gryffindor. It wasn't until he was directly behind Harry that
Malfoy spoke, "I thought you'd be happy to see me, Potter. You certainly seemed
so last time we were alone." Harry was overrun with a confliction of emotions.
He had meant it when he told Malfoy to go away, yet was glad that he hadn't.
"Crying all by yourself?" he asked, gently encircling his hand around Harry's,
"No Mudblood to comfort you?" "Don't call her that!" Harry jerked his hand
away. The brief moment of excitement Harry had felt when his skin brushed
against Malfoy's immediately dissolved with the forbidden word. Hermione had
just covered for both of them, so they could meet. Sure, the blond was
oblivious to this. But, didn't he understand that she was still Harry's friend?
Malfoy glanced down at Harry's hand, then regained eye contact. "It was just an
observation, Potter. Don't think I haven't noticed you two always huddled
together." "The way you and Parkinson are?" Harry defensively retorted, "With
the way she hangs off you all the time, I wouldn't be surprised if she
immediately dropped to her knees if you said, 'suck my dick'!" Malfoy roared
with laughter, "Believe me, Potter, she would. But, you forget what I told
you." His voice fell back to a serious tone, "Nobody can find out about us, and
Pansy is a very, annoyingly, nosey girl." "Yeah, I know." Harry rolled his
eyes, remembering his fourth year. "The point is, Potter, that she's already
suspicious. I have not been paying her the attention I would normally. If I
were to completely dismiss her, she would find out more about us than even we
know. But, you on the other hand. . . I haven't even seen the Weasel trailing
you two. You and that Mudblood-" "STOP CALLING HER-" Harry drew his wand,
hesitated, then pocketed it. His rage had reached its ultimate peak. Yet, the
only thing he could bring himself to do at that moment was laugh. "What?" Draco
Malfoy shifted uncomfortably. Harry couldn't respond. His sides felt like they
split from laughing so hard that he had to clutch himself around his abdomen.
"What are you laughing at, Potter?" He folded his arms across his chest,
shifting nervously once more. "You!" Harry managed to let out in between
laughs. He regained control and took a few deep breaths before explaining,
"You're jealous of Hermione!" "I am not!" Malfoy retorted indignantly. He tried
to scowl at Harry. Even though scowling was an expression commonly seen on the
blond's face, he still did a bad job of faking it. "You got it all wrong."
Harry said with a broad grin across his face, "Hermione fancies Ron." "Gross."
The Slytherin muttered. The way his eyes relaxed gave away his immediate
relief. "I knew it." Harry chuckled. "Let us not forget who was the one crying
at his own reflection, Potter." "I wasn't crying at my reflection." Harry
thought it would be easier to show Malfoy the mirror rather than explain it.
Walking behind him, he grabbed the taller boy's shoulders and positioned him in
front of the mirror. Harry stepped out of the mirror's view. His green eyes met
with Malfoy's profile. Silver eyes expanded wide with surprise. Draco Malfoy's
jaw practically hit the floor. His pale white cheeks glowed bright pink. He
jumped back from the mirror before snapping, "Is this some sort of perverse
joke?!" "No." Harry lifted a curious eyebrow, "What do you see, Malfoy?" "You
mean you can't see it?" Malfoy also lifted a curious eyebrow. "Of course not.
Only the one looking at it can see it." Harry explained. "Oh." Malfoy seemed
overcome with relief to this knowledge. He looked back at the mirror with a
smirk across his face. Whatever it was he saw, Harry knew he must not want
others to know. "This mirror must tell the future, then." The blond confidently
stated. Harry shook his head, "It's the Mirror of Erised. It shows us nothing
more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.” He felt
like he was quoting Dumbledore word for word. "No!" Malfoy's face flushed pink
once more. He turned away from the mirror, "It does not! You're lying!" "I'm
not lying." Harry was absolutely intrigued to know what it was that Malfoy saw.
"What do you see?" he repeated. "It's not any of your business." Malfoy turned
toward Harry, his grey eyes cold as ice and sharply narrowed. He marched
straight toward Harry and drew his wand. Harry's eyes were a mere inch away
from the tip. "You're not supposed to be wandering the corridors this late,
Potter. That'll be ten points from Gryffindor." "What?!" Harry's eyes widened,
outraged, "You can't do that!" "Yes, I can. I'm still technically a prefect."
His wand twitched nervously. "Shove off, Malfoy! Get that bloody wand out of my
face!" "Go to bed, now!" Harry forcefully knocked Malfoy's arm to the side. His
wand streaked across the floor, sending a red spark. The blond looked shocked
at Harry's behavior. He reached for Harry's neck. Harry raised his arms to
deflect Malfoy from strangling him, but the blond was too quick. However, he
didn't strangle him. Instead, Malfoy cradled his hands under the bottom of
Harry's head and pulled him into a fierce kiss. Immediately, the shorter boy
swung his arms up, around Malfoy's neck. Pulling him in as close as he could,
Harry leapt forward, bringing his knees to the blond's waist. Not breaking
apart their locked lips, Malfoy lowered his hands to catch the Gryffindor,
firmly gripping his ass. Harry tightly locked his legs around Malfoy's hips. He
was sure the other boy could feel his erection firmly pressed against his
stomach. Sweetly suckling on Harry's bottom lip, Malfoy marched forward and
hastily shoved him onto one of the nearby desks. Obsolete metallic instruments
and glass jars, which sat on the desk, knocked to the floor with a loud
clatter, completely disregarded by the hormonal boys. Harry drew back, "You're
such an arrogant git, Malfoy." His green eyes meeting with the silver ones
oddly shaped like Sirius'. "Do you ever just shut up, Potter?" Malfoy replied.
Harry reached to grasp around the back of the blond's shoulders. He lunged
forward, immediately sinking his teeth into the base of Malfoy's neck through
the collar of his shirt. Malfoy gasped loudly. Even through his robes, Harry
felt the taller boy's nails dig into his back. The absence of this sensation
for a week's time made his cock throb wildly in appreciation of it being back.
Taking a step back, Malfoy grabbed hold of Harry's crimson and yellow tie and
removed it in a single swipe. He then grabbed the collar of Harry’s shirt and
tore it aside, sending the buttons flying in every which direction. Malfoy
continued by firmly planting his lips against his chest, right in between his
collar bones. Malfoy's lips parted slightly so that his tongue could slide
against Harry's bare skin. He lowered himself down Harry's abdomen until the
tip of his tongue swivelled around his navel. With his eyes clenched shut,
Harry let out a loud groan as Malfoy had found a particularly sensitive area.
He snatched locks of the Slytherin's fine blond hair, trying to force him to go
lower. But, Malfoy appeared to realize that he found a sweet spot and continued
tracing Harry's belly button with his lips and tongue before proceeding
downward. His lip brushed the skin right at the hem of Harry's pants. Harry bit
hard onto his bottom lip, squeezing the locks of the blond's hair so tight, he
unwittingly ripped out a few strands. With a low thud, Malfoy's knees hit the
floor. His hands stayed at the opening of the shorter boy’s pants, fumbling
with the button and zipper. Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Seriously, Potter. What's
with the hideous Muggle undergarments?" "Didn't you tell me to shut up,
Malfoy?" Harry peeked to see his hand still filled with blond hair. "I believe
I did." Malfoy grabbed the top of the Gryffindor's pants and boxers. With
Harry's assistance in shifting a bit, he pulled them down to his ankles. Malfoy
forcefully pushed Harry’s knees apart and gripped his dick. Harry's eyes
clenched back shut as he gasped. The nails of his free hand clawed into the
edge of the desk when the blond started softly stroking him. A tiny squeak of
surprise escaped Harry's throat. He felt Draco Malfoy’s soft lips envelope his
cock. His eyes were opened in shock, just in time to see the blond pull back
for a brief moment and send him a victorious smirk. Malfoy appeared to be
enjoying his hold of power over Harry. His wet lips enclosed around the head of
his cock, remaining stationary. Harry's moan was muffled on account that he was
biting his lower lip. His abdomen contracted tightly as he desperately fought
back the urge to come at that moment. Feeling the tip of Malfoy’s tongue slide
across the opening of his urethra, Harry couldn’t hold back the trace amount of
pre-cum that oozed from his cock’s head. The blond’s tongue danced around the
head, then swivelled around the frenulum. Malfoy's teasing had gone far enough.
He was being inhumanely cruel. Harry shoved the back of his head. Malfoy gave
in, allowing more of Harry's length into his mouth. He was sure he could feel
every last taste-bud rubbing against his shaft. The sensation drove him mad.
Slowly, he slid his mouth up and down the shorter boy's dick. As Harry's
breathing grew heavier, Malfoy would steadily move faster. With each time he
bobbed his head, Malfoy glided his lips further down his cock. Harry felt the
head of his dick roughly smacking into the back of the blond’s throat, but he
maintained enough self-control not to gag. His pale white hand reached toward
the base of Harry's shaft, but stopped at his balls. Malfoy massaged them
gently between his fingers. Then, he let his entire hand enclose them, giving
them a soft squeeze and a light tug. Harry panted hungrily. Malfoy’s hand slid
up to the base of his erection and began stroking Harry at the same fast pace
as his head movements. Pearls of sweat spread across Harry's forehead, leaving
the roots of his hair damp. His entire body tensed, involuntarily. Malfoy must
have known he was about to come, because he suddenly started sucking on his
cock very aggressively. The Gryffindor's moan echoed across the room. He could
hear the metal of the desks grind against the stone floor as they immediately
shot away from the boys. Falling when the desk from under him shot away, Harry
was surprised to find himself cradled in Draco Malfoy's arms rather than
smacking into the cold stone floor. The desks and many of the jars and
instruments were chaotically stacked along the perimeter. "Fancy this sight?"
Malfoy smirked. "I'm sorry?" Harry asked. "Honestly, you're not that thick. Me,
a noble, respectable pure-blood, with the famous Harry Potter sitting on my
lap. His trousers are wrapped around his ankles, mind you." Malfoy chuckled. "I
think you forget," Harry stood, pulling up his trousers, "it was you who sucked
my dick." Malfoy scowled. He stood up to Harry. Their noses almost touched. His
grey eyes narrowed, with his head tilted down so he could make eye contact with
the shorter boy, "Are you talking down to me, Potter?" "No, actually, I wasn't,
Malfoy." Harry traced the tips of his fingers along the Slytherin's inner thigh
until his palm was firmly rested against his crotch. He could feel Malfoy's
erection through the material of his clothes and could distinctly see him
lightly lick his bottom lip. "Who's down there?" A rusty voice called. The
boys' eyes immediately widened. Malfoy pivoted so that he was right next to
Harry, and they were facing the door that still creaked open. The Gryffindor
was surprised to feel Malfoy's hand clenched so tightly to his own, but didn't
mind. "It's Filch!" Harry frantically whispered, "If he catches us in here-" "I
he catches you in here. You will be in a lot of trouble." Malfoy interrupted,
"I'm a prefect. I can just say I caught you wandering the corridors after
hours." "Fine!" Harry pulled his arm away from the taller boy with his eyes
narrowed. He was growing impatient with Malfoy's persistent attitude, "Turn me
in, then! Save yourself!" Malfoy leered at Harry, his jaw twitching slightly.
He crossed his arms in hesitation. Harry smirked. He had called Malfoy out on
his bluff and knew it. As much as Malfoy wanted to be seen for his elitist
nature, he was forcing his proud personality. Harry could see it was slowly
slipping away. A long, lanky shadow cast against the floor of the corridors.
Filch was getting very close to the door. Harry didn't know what to do. He
reached inside the pocket of his robes and pulled out the invisibility cloak,
quickly throwing it over himself and Malfoy. "Potter, what are you doing?"
Malfoy asked, taken aback. "It’s an invisibility cloak." Harry said in a
whisper. "Oh yes," Malfoy sneered, "The same one you used when you were
listening in on me in the compartment of the Hogwarts Express. That was a dirty
trick." "I think you got your revenge on that just fine, but shut up! Just
because we're invisible doesn't mean he can't hear us. Accio Wand!" Harry stuck
his hands out of the cloak to catch Malfoy's wand. He hastily shoved it into
his hand. The boys held their breaths as they saw Filch's decrepit figure
through the crack in the door. He oddly didn't even seem to notice the room.
Harry grabbed onto Malfoy's wrist and silently led him toward the door. Filch
continued walking down the corridor, vigilantly holding out his lantern. Harry
thought they had a narrow escape until he felt a jab in his ribs. "What,
Malfoy?" Harry angrily whispered, scowling at the blond. Draco Malfoy stood
stiff, his face paler than it already was. He didn't speak, just simply pointed
toward the floor. Harry's gaze met with the bright red eyes of Mrs. Norris. Her
ears were folded back, and her tail flickered. She hissed loudly. "What is it,
my sweet?" Filch croaked, turning and walking back in their direction, "Peeves?
Children out of bed? Oh, they'll be in for it." "Run!" Harry whispered.
Clutching Malfoy's hand, they took off in the opposite direction. The boys
proceeded down many corridors and staircases, too afraid to so much as look
back. Harry didn't recognize where they were going until they were in the
Entrance Hall. Malfoy wrung his arm around Harry's and led them down to the
dungeons. They didn't stop until they were alongside a blank wall that Harry
recognized as the entrance to the Slytherin common room from his second year.
Both boys stood hunched over, with their palms resting on their knees, gasping
for breath. "That was too close." Malfoy whispered, standing back upright,
after he finally caught his breath. "Yeah." Harry agreed, standing upright as
well. Malfoy gave Harry the same considering expression that he had their night
in the prefects' bathroom, unsure if he should sweetly bid farewell or not.
When his gaze averted from Harry, he snatched Malfoy by the collar and pulled
him down so their lips could passionately meet. Malfoy smirked after they broke
apart and slipped out of the invisibility cloak. Harry heard him whisper the
password to the wall before he decided to return to his own common room.
***** Chapter 7 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter has been betaed by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
A/N: I apologize for the delay. But, I fixed my computer. :) Alas, Chapter 7.
"So, who's a better kisser? Cho or Malfoy?" Harry choked and shot pumpkin juice
out of his nostrils. He hastily reached for his wand and whispered,
"Muffliato!" before making an attempt at cleaning himself. "Harry, you know I
don't like it when you use spells from that book!" Hermione snapped. "I don't
exactly want everyone at the breakfast table to know I'm snogging Malfoy!"
Harry defensively retorted. "That's why I waited until Ron was distracted.” she
said, “Nobody else is paying attention to us." "I'd just be more comfortable
knowing that spell is preventing anyone else from hearing us. Besides, why
would you ask that? You're going all girly on me, Hermione. It's weird." Harry
reached over and grabbed a Daily Prophet. He unfolded it fully and used it to
completely hide his head before saying, "And Malfoy is." Hermione chuckled,
"Actually, what I really wanted to know is what you and Malfoy did last night?"
"I doubt you really want to know that, Hermione." Harry kept his face hidden
with the newspaper. "Well, what I meant was, how to put this. . ." She
nervously bit her bottom lip, "Did you see him naked at all last night?" "Oh my
God!" Harry immediately crumpled the Prophet into a massive heap of parchment.
The tip of his nose met with the table, and his arms flung over the back of his
head, hiding his severely flushed face. Hermione's eyebrows rose in the center.
Her cheeks were tinted pink, "I didn't really mean it to come off like that."
"Then, what exactly did you mean?" Harry said, his voice muffled by his arms
and the large sleeves of his black robes. "I mean, were you able to see if he
had a Dark Mark on his arm?" She quickly recovered. "No." He mumbled. Then, he
muttered inaudibly, but "asked that in the first place" could be distinctly
heard. "And why not?" "Because, I was a bit distracted!" Harry's head rose,
"Malfoy wasn't naked, he was- Er- I don't really want to keep talking about
this." "Harry, believe me, I don't want to know the details." Hermione chuckled
at Harry's sudden shyness, "But, I do think you should keep your eye out for
that." "Exactly when am I supposed to do that, Hermione?" Harry snapped, "When
Malfoy's wanking me, or when I'm wanking him?" Hermione's eyes clenched tightly
shut. Her fists quickly met with her temples. She looked as though she were
trying to force the image Harry probably put in her head. "Sorry." He muttered.
Harry's cheeks flushed. He didn't want to say that; it just slipped out in his
moment of frustration. "Harry. I’m serious." Hermione placed a comforting hand
on Harry's shoulder, "Please, don't let your infatuation cloud your judgment.
You really should check before you get too involved. Otherwise, you could get
yourself into a lot of trouble." "Okay, okay, Hermione." Harry conceded, "Next
time I meet with him, I'll check his arm." "When are you meeting him?" "No
idea." Harry sighed, his gaze averting to the Slytherin table. His green eyes
narrowed at the sight of Pansy Parkinson giggling and clutching onto Malfoy's
arm. The blond, himself, seemed too involved with poking his breakfast with his
fork to join into the Slytherins' animated discussion. Harry bit his tongue at
the sight of Parkinson leaning up to kiss Malfoy. But, he was soon smirking
when he saw the blond pushing her away.
                                     -----
Harry found it difficult to concentrate on practical trials of nonverbal spells
that afternoon in Defense Against the Dark Arts. With Snape's uncanny talent of
overly proficient observation, Harry dreaded another announcement of drooling
over Malfoy.
He heard Malfoy speaking in the distance. The sound of his drawling voice made
the hairs on the back of Harry's neck rise. His shoulders remained as stiff as
possible to fight his desire of looking over at him.
Malfoy acted as he had before. Throughout the day when Harry would glance in
his direction, the Slytherin wouldn't look back. From this behavior and the
fact he could successfully do Occlumency, Harry deduced Malfoy’s ability to
keep his emotions in check skyrocketed above his own.
                                     -----
"Of course, he gave us loads of homework! Ruddy Snape. I'll be working on this
essay until the weekend. I know it!" Ron groaned at the end of the day's
lessons.
"Honestly, Ron, sixty inches of parchment isn't that long." Hermione rolled her
eyes.
"Whaddya mean it's not that long?!" Ron rounded on her.
Harry felt it best not to get into the middle of the argument. He felt a
sudden, hostile thrust against his shoulder. Gentle fingers caressed his hand,
slipping a small piece of parchment into it. Then, he saw Malfoy strut away
without looking back.
"Pointy-faced prat!" Ron called after him. Harry intensely struggled to
suppress a grin. He couldn't open the note at that moment, but he had a hunch
that it must be good.
Harry hadn't a chance to open the note until after dinner. When he and his two
best friends sat doing homework in the Gryffindor common room, Harry waited
until Ron was thoroughly distracted pleading for help from Hermione.
He held the small piece of parchment under the table. After unfolding it, Harry
read the hastily written note.

                                 Friday night
                              Prefects' bathroom
                              Eight o'clock p.m.
                                Don't be late!
Short and filled with sentence fragments granted, the note still made Harry's
stomach feel lighter than air. He could focus his stress on his homework,
rather than worrying about the next time he'd see Malfoy.
                                     -----
The following week could not have passed any slower. As excited as Harry felt
when he originally read Malfoy's note, that feeling soon transferred into
impatience. He wanted to see Malfoy every night that week.
"I hate to say this, Harry, but Malfoy is being much more sensible about your
relationship than you are." Hermione confessed when she and Harry had a moment
alone in the library later that week.
"And why is that?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes. He had brought up the subject
in hope of some sympathy, not to be told he was wrong.
"From what you've told me, you and Malfoy have had your meetings during the
weekend. Therefore, you two could stay up late without having to worry about
the repercussions of being up early the next morning." she explained, "Not to
mention, the more you two disappear alone together; the more people are going
to notice. You don't want to attract that kind of attention, seeing as you want
to keep your relationship a secret.
“Why is that? Are you two afraid of being called gay?"
"No." Harry said, shaking his head, "At least, I'm not. Malfoy's so proud, I
wouldn't be surprised if he is. The thing is, Hermione, if word got out to say,
Voldemort, about my feelings for Malfoy, he could do something drastic, like
hurt him to get to me."
Hermione nodded, "Yes, that's understandable."
"But, back to your original point, I know I wouldn't mind losing sleep to spend
time with him." Harry suddenly became interested in his book. He could feel his
cheeks burn in response to his sudden confession.
Hermione sighed, "Harry, can I give you a piece of advice?"
"Sure."
"You're acting kind of desperate. Boys usually either don't like that or take
advantage of it."
"I'm not acting desperate!" Harry defensively snarled.
"Okay." She quirked an eyebrow and didn't sound remotely convinced, "What I'm
saying is, is that you are diving head first into this relationship. Don't look
at me like that, you know you are! You're really putting yourself in a
vulnerable position. I cannot stress enough the importance of finding out if he
really is a Death Eater or not."
"I already told you I would." Harry muttered through gritted teeth.
"Yes, but your tone of voice suggests that you're not taking me seriously.
Look, you're sixteen, and you have more burdens to worry you than the average
adult. It's cruel and unfair. The point is, the last thing you need to be
worrying about is a relationship. You really shouldn't be-"
"Hermione!" Harry interrupted, outraged, "You already said that you would
respect my decision to-"
"Please, let me finish!" Hermione cut him back off, "I did say I'd respect your
choice. I want you to be happy, Harry. I really do. What I'm saying is that you
really need to make sure he doesn't have a Dark Mark. If he's not a Death
Eater, I promise I will grant him pardon for every mean thing he has ever said
or done to us, even calling me Mudblood."
"I tell him not to call you that."
"Well, thank you. But, don't expect too much too soon."
"Thanks, Hermione. I promise. This Friday, I will check."
Hermione leaned over and gave Harry a hug.
                                     -----
If the week was slow, it was nothing to how long the lessons seemed on that
Friday. Harry generally enjoyed his free time during breakfast and lunch. But,
that day, he just wished that they would end quickly.
Not only was it slow, but it was Valentine's Day. The flames of all the torch
brackets illuminated bright pink or red. White and pink ribbons and sashes were
strung almost everywhere. But, the worst was the Great Hall. The floating
candles were heart-shaped, and there were confetti throwing cherubs that
uncomfortably reminded Harry of his date with Cho in Madam Puddifoot's the year
prior.
There was love in the air, or lust, rather. There was always an upsurge of
couples around this date. The duos that only hooked up a day or two previous
would clutch each other, cooing, "I love you!" "I love you, more!" "No, I love
you, more!" Making way to lessons was like trying to get through a complex maze
with all the students randomly snogging in the middle of the hall.
The only teacher who wouldn't tolerate this behavior was Professor Snape.
Hormonal couples would be ruthlessly broken apart in a single dash of billowing
black robes. Harry never thought he'd be so grateful for Snape's anti-holiday
spirit.
Many of the lustful duos ignored dinner as they received plenty of sweets from
their temporary lovers. The entire sight made Harry's stomach churn with
revulsion. Yet, deep down, Harry knew he did wish he and Malfoy were being goo-
goo with each other in the same sappy way.
He couldn't help but look over at the Slytherin table. Pansy Parkinson was
wearing the most lurid hot pink cape, with an overly large matching bow on the
side of her head. She looked like one of those ugly little dogs that old rich
Muggle ladies would dress up.
She appeared to be pleading in desperation for Malfoy to take her gifts. The
blond stared at nothing, with a vacant expression, as he was being needlessly
drenched in confetti by an overhead cherub.
Harry knew he still had a large stack of homework. Snape's massive essay was
barely dented. But, the consequences of procrastinating were not bothering
Harry in the slightest. He spent his time in the Gryffindor common room
counting the seconds, which were taking far too long to pass.
Hermione occasionally pestered him to work on his homework, but Harry simply
shrugged her off. He did a countdown in his mind, and when the clock read 7:50,
he decided it was close enough to start to head toward the prefects' bathroom.
Hermione closed her book and met Harry at the door, "Promise me that you're
going to find out."
"I already did!" Harry hastily whispered, then sighing with the expression on
Hermione's face, "I promise I will check. Where's Ron?" Harry suddenly realized
that Ron wasn't in the room.
"I don't know." Her bushy brown hair swayed as she scanned the Gryffindor
common room, "I didn't notice him leave." Her attention focused back to Harry,
"When are you going to be back?"
"No idea." Harry casually shrugged.
"Okay, don't forget to check!"
"I won't!" Harry was growing impatient with her persistence.
"I'll see you in the morning, I expect?" Hermione asked.
"Probably." Harry nodded.
She wrapped her arms around him briefly, before he slipped through the portrait
hole. He threw his invisibility cloak over himself, then quickly jogged through
the corridors.
Upon whispering, "Spic 'n Span" to the door of the prefects' bathroom, Harry
could hear heated voices.
Slipping off the invisibility cloak, Harry stepped inside the grand bathroom.
His eyes widen at the sight of Ron and Malfoy with their wands in each other's
faces.
"Oi! What's going on?!" He marched up to them, drawing his own wand.
"Harry!" Ron beamed at him. He was dressed in moldy, oversized, maroon bath
robes, "Malfoy's saying I have to leave! But, he should!"
"I'm not leaving, Weaselby." Malfoy drawled, "I was here first. You leave!"
"Ron, maybe you should just go." Harry sighed.
Ron's jaw dropped. His eyes practically popped out of his head.
"If he was here first, you know. . ." Harry shifted his feet uncomfortably.
"Fine, if you insist." Ron kept an eyebrow raised as he put away his wand. He
didn't even bother making eye contact with Harry as he left.
"Potter, your idiot!" Malfoy snapped as soon as Ron had shut the door and was
out of earshot. He put away his wand and shook his head.
"What?" Harry pocketed his wand and walked over to the blond, utterly confused.
"You shouldn't have told Weasely to leave!" Malfoy shouted, clearly more aware
of how it came off to Ron than Harry was.
"I got rid of him! Why do you care? You don't even like him." Harry thought, if
anything, Malfoy would be delighted to see him dismissing Ron.
"Because he's your friend. He expected you to defend him. Now, he's going to be
very suspicious as to why you would kick him out and stay here with me!" The
blond rolled his eyes, annoyed that Harry wasn't seeing how plainly obvious it
was.
Malfoy's attention was suddenly directed to the door, then back to Harry. He
sprinted toward the door, grabbing the Gryffindor's wrist to drag him along
with.
"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Harry asked in protest. Yet, he didn't physically
show it as he eagerly followed him.
Malfoy pushed the door open slightly and stuck out his head. Looking all around
the corridor before dragging Harry out of the bathroom, he then said, "A
hundred Galleons says that Weasely will be back. He'll be curious to see what
we're up to."
"Yeah." Harry agreed, "But, where do we go?"
"I don't know." Malfoy let go of Harry's wrist and considered the corridors for
a moment. "This way." He whispered, inclining with his head. Malfoy’s fingers
interlaced with Harry's, and he took the lead.
Harry's head constantly twitched backward to make sure they weren't being
followed. He hadn't the slightest as far as where Malfoy was leading them until
they were nearby. "Why the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom?" he asked
in confusion.
"Because the only person around here is Professor Snape." The blond replied.
"Wait!" Harry hesitated. The single last person in the entire school he wanted
to discover him and Malfoy was Snape.
"What's the matter, Potter? Afraid of getting caught?" Malfoy taunted him with
a smirk across his face.
"No!" Harry said defensively, "It's just. . . Well, if Snape did catch us,
could you possibly imagine. . ." He just couldn't find the words to describe
the horror.
"You could just throw on your invisibility cloak and run. I could distract him.
I'll just say I needed to talk to him. He won't question it." Malfoy casually
continued to lead them up the stairs.
Harry followed, but his gaze hit the ground. He remembered overhearing Snape
and Malfoy conversing right before Christmas, then how Hermione hounded him to
check his arm. He didn't want to at this particular moment, more interested in
spending time with Malfoy. But, his last statement irked Harry.
"Why wouldn't he question it if you said you needed to talk to him?" Harry
asked once they were right outside the door. He desperately hoped he didn't
sound suspicious.
"Not that it's any of your business, Potter, but Professor Snape is my
godfather." Malfoy explained, slowly opening the door, "I come around here to
find him all the time."
Harry sighed with relief, quietly following Malfoy into the classroom. Like the
room they had met in last time, dim moonlight streamed through the windows,
barely lighting the room. Harry shivered; the classroom was quite drafty.
Malfoy turned to face Harry, clasping both his hands within his own. Their eyes
locked; the blond’s warm hands felt very comforting. Harry felt entranced and a
sudden idea sprung into his head. He casually let his hands slide out of
Malfoy's. He gently caressed his finger tips against his wrists, trying to
nonchalantly push up the Slytherin's sleeves.
Malfoy pulled his arms back and tightly gripped Harry's shoulders. His back
harshly hitting the stone wall, Harry soon found himself with the taller boy
firmly planting his lips onto his own. Checking Malfoy's forearm was going to
be harder than he thought.
Harry gently slid his lips so they enveloped the other boy's bottom lip. He
reached up and gently wrapped his palms around Malfoy's wrists. He continued to
caress down his arm to pull his sleeve back.
Malfoy appeared oblivious to his intentions. He parted his lips slightly to
allow his tongue to slide into Harry's mouth.
Harry had Malfoy's sleeve pushed to his elbow. If he had a Dark Mark, then it
was fully exposed. Now, all Harry had to do was sneak a glance.
He felt the taller boy's right arm leave his shoulders. Malfoy's soft fingers
gripped the side of his glasses. Harry brought his hand up to try and stop him
from taking them off. He wouldn't be able to see a Dark Mark without them.
"Harry!"
The two boys’ eyes shot open wide, and they jumped apart. Standing side by
side, they faced the door. Paralyzed with shock, they saw Hermione. Her eyes
darted to her shoes. Against the dim moonlight, Harry saw her cheeks were
mildly flushed pink.
"Get out of here! Filthy Mu-"
Malfoy abruptly stopped talking when he felt Harry's arm smack into his chest.
The Gryffindor had outstretched his arm, as if to block Malfoy from her.
"Hermione, what are you doing here?!" He definitely felt just as outraged as
Malfoy.
"Please, be quiet." She urgently whispered, "Ron's coming. He came back to the
common room, ranting and raving. He, Seamus and Dean are looking for you!"
"How did you find us?" Harry asked.
"Ron didn't know I was coming." Hermione replied, anxiously throwing glances
outside the classroom, "I spotted you two, but I was too far to get your
attention. I was too afraid that if I called out or shot a spell that it would
attract Ron."
"I hear voices! This way! The Defense Against the Dark Arts room!" Harry
distinctly heard Dean Thomas shout in the distance.
"Oh no!" Hermione whispered. Harry nervously fumbled, trying to pull out his
invisibility cloak. How could this get any worse?
"THE GRANGER GIRL HAS FOUND POTTY AND MALFOY!" The trio jumped and switched
their attention to Peeves, who was outside the DADA room, laying in midair. He
rested his chin on his hands and kicked his legs in excitement, "POTTY AND
MALFOY SITTING IN A TREE! GAY SCANDAL AT HOGWARTS!"
Harry and Malfoy immediately drew their wands. Hermione put her hand up to
imply that she could take care of it. She whispered a long, unrecognizable
enchantment, then swirled her wand in a complex fashion and pointed it at
Peeves.
A white light shot from the end of her wand and hit Peeves in the face. He
appeared unaffected. He cackled wildy, doing back flips in midair, then said,
"I like to make everyone else miserable to make sure no one finds out that as a
poltergeist, I have no penis." Peeves' face was horror struck at what he just
said as if he hadn't intended on saying it. He zoomed away as fast as possible.
Malfoy chuckled, "What did you do to him, Granger?"
Hermione turned toward them, with a triumphant look on her face. The trio's
temporary amusement was soon cut off by the echoing sounds of hasty footsteps
growing nearer.
"I'll explain later." She snatched the invisibility cloak from Harry's hands
and threw it over him and Malfoy.
"Are they in there? Let me see!" Ron wildly exclaimed right behind Hermione.
Dean and Seamus followed behind him.
Hermione spun around to face him, "Ron! They're not here. Let's go."
"Yes, they are!" Ron looked at her with disbelief, "I heard you talking to
them."
"No," Hermione shook her head, "You heard me talking to Moaning Myrtle. I was
asking her if she saw Harry and Malfoy. She said she saw them go to bed. Okay,
lets go now."
"Wait! Then, why was Peeves screaming about you, Harry and Malfoy?" Seamus
interjected.
"He wasn't." Hermione explained, "He was making fun of Myrtle. Then she cried
and left. That's why I hit him with a spell. Now, lets go!"
"No," Dean crossed his arms, "I distinctly heard him say 'Granger', 'Potty',
and 'Malfoy'. Then he said something about a gay scandal."
Ron and Seamus nodded in agreement.
"You boys have been drinking too much firewhiskey tonight!" Hermione's voice
grew very nervous.
"You know Harry's been acting all funny, Hermione." Ron got in her face,
"First, that whole Eloise Midgen thing that turned out to be a lie. Then, Harry
wants to be alone with Malfoy in the prefects' bathroom. The way he always
looks for him on the Marauder's Map. . ."
Malfoy nudged Harry curiously when Ron made the comment about the Marauder's
Map. Harry felt his face flush, and he suddenly became interested in his shoes.
"Er- I'm sure he has perfectly logical explanations for his behavior. With,
Voldemort-" Malfoy, Ron, Dean and Seamus all flinched, "at large, he's very
stressed."
"It's like you keep trying to cover up for him, Hermione!" Ron rounded on her,
"What are you two hiding?"
"You're being paranoid, Ron." Hermione sighed, "Let's go to bed. You two have
to, now!" She ordered, pointing at Seamus and Dean.
"Says who?" Dean scowled.
"Says me. I’m a prefect!" Hermione wasn't the type to abuse power. So, it was
an odd sight. But, she definitely was desperate to get the Gryffindors away
from the classroom.
"We'll go to bed once we've searched the classroom!" Ron snarled. He tried to
walk past Hermione, but she outstretched her arms to block him.
"You can clearly see they're not in there!" Hermione's voice almost sounded
hysterical. She kept leaning to each side to prevent Ron from entering.
Malfoy firmly grasped Harry's hand. Together, they started to slowly back away
from the door.
"You know, as well as I do, that they could be hiding under Harry's invisi-
" But, Ron was cut off. Hermione had just thrown her arms around Ron's neck and
locked lips.
"Hermione, what the. . ." Ron said, utterly bewildered after she pulled away.
His face glowed as red as his hair.
"I'm sorry, Ron. I just couldn't resist, anymore. You look so dashing,
tonight!" Hermione giggled. Her behavior was even embarrassing Harry. He
couldn't imagine what Malfoy must have felt.
"Oh. Well, I. . . Um. . . Thanks?" Ron sputtered sheepishly.
"Lets go back to the common room. It's so late and dark. Could an innocent girl
like me get a big, strong boy like you to escort her?" She gave another one of
her awkwardly girlish giggles and grabbed his hand.
Ron looked too happy to care how out of place Hermione was acting. Seamus and
Dean looked like they were going to be sick.
"Ron," Seamus grabbed his shoulder, "Don't you see what she's doing? She's
trying to distract you from checking the classroom!"
"Ron, are you going to let him talk to your girl that way?" Hermione asked in a
bizarre girly pout.
"'Course not! Come off it, Seamus!" Ron snarled, "We're going to bed! I'm a
prefect, too. Now, go!"
Seamus and Dean scoffed and rolled their eyes. They reluctantly started heading
down the stairs, followed closely by Ron and Hermione.
Harry and Malfoy neared the doorway. They waited until the group of Gryffindors
were long out of sight before they closed the door and pulled off the cloak.
"I guess she's not so bad." Malfoy smirked, ". . .For a Mudblood."
Harry jerked his hand away and drew his wand, "Take it back!"
Malfoy lifted an eyebrow, “I guess she is bad? What?" he appeared somewhat
amused.
"That's not what I meant, Malfoy!" Harry growled.
"What? I complimented her." He clearly didn't see what the big deal was.
"Hermione just went out of her way to cover for us!" Harry shouted, "How could
you still call her that?"
"You mean Mudblood?" Malfoy's tone grew annoyed, and his jaw twitched.
"Yes!"
"She is what she is." Malfoy shrugged, indifferently.
"So, that's how it is?!" Harry's fists were white with how hard they were
clenched. The hand that was clutching his wand twitched, "It doesn't matter how
kind she is to you, you're still going to treat her like scum just because
she's Muggle-born?"
"Yes, Potter!" Malfoy drawled, "I come from a noble pure-blood family. I'm not
compromising my honor for her, no matter if she does do me a favor. You didn't
seriously think that just because we fooled around a couple times that I would
have a sudden epiphany."
"Get out of here!" Harry screamed, "I don't want to see you again! I hate you!"
"Fine!" Malfoy scowled. He walked to the exit. Opening the door, he stopped and
reached in the pocket of his robes. He pulled out a small red parcel with gold
ribbon and threw it to Harry. "Happy Valentines Day." he muttered before
walking away.
***** Chapter 8 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter has been betaed by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
Harry sat with his arms crossed, teeth grinding and eyes scowling at nothing.
He waited until the last echoes of Malfoy's footsteps were gone before he made
an attempt at leaving. He didn't want to bump into Malfoy or even see the back
of his blond head. Stepping toward the door, Harry felt a small crunch under
his shoe. He looked down at the small red parcel that Malfoy threw to him. He
considered just leaving the present, but ended up placing it in his robes'
pocket.
                                     -----
He stepped through the portrait hole. All the younger students had gone to bed.
By the fireplace, Harry could see Dean, Seamus, Ron and Hermione with an empty
tankard, probably once filled with butterbeer, and passing around a bottle of
firewhiskey. Hermione sat on Ron's lap.
The boys appeared too intoxicated to remember their hunt for Harry and Malfoy.
Hermione’s attention, on the other hand, alerted to Harry's sudden appearance
at once.
She excused herself from Ron and ran over to Harry. "Why are you back already?
What's wrong?" She whispered.
Harry sighed and shook his head, walking toward the dormitories. He just wanted
to go to sleep and forget the night, venting to Hermione could wait.
Hermione stopped at the bottom of the dormitory stairs and sighed, "Would you
rather talk in the morning?"
Harry nodded and silently skulked to his dormitory. Neville was already in
there and asleep.
Heaving a sigh, Harry loosely flopped onto his four poster. He curled his hands
under the back of his head and stared blankly at the overhead hangings. Why
wouldn't Malfoy show some respect for Hermione? It was just so frustrating. The
last time they had met, Malfoy seemed like he was lightening up with his proud
arrogance. But, tonight Harry felt he was a fool to think Malfoy ever could.
The entire night was wasted. His and Malfoy's encounter fell to pieces. He
didn't get to see if the Slytherin had a Dark Mark or not. And tomorrow, Ron,
Seamus and Dean were going to be harassing him when they returned to their
sober states of mind.
In his impatience to be with Malfoy, he'd completely blown off Ron. If he
thought the scenario through, rather than impulsively reacting, it wouldn't
have ended so badly. Sure, he may have not been able to have time alone with
Malfoy that night. But, at least there wouldn't be all this awkward tension
that would soon come with him and the Gryffindors.
Malfoy was right. He was an idiot. Hermione was also right. His behavior was
desperate and insensible. Harry clutched the pillow and pulled it around over
his face. He let out a muffled growl of frustration.
He knew he had bad luck with girls, but boys too? Did he just have this
horrible karma with things and people that made him happy? Would he ever be
allowed to be close to someone without them being taken away for whatever
reason?
Pulling the pillow back under his head, Harry decided that he should get some
sleep. Some rest might clear his head enough to sort the issues with everyone
tomorrow.
Sitting up, Harry roughly pulled off his robes and carelessly tossed them
toward the trunk. The small red parcel fell out of the pocket of his robes and
onto the floor. He leaned over the bed and scooped up the present.
He was thinking he just should have left it, but was glad he didn't when he saw
the card attached:
                                   To Harry
                                  From Draco
How bad that would've been if Snape had discovered it.
It felt strange to read the little card. Malfoy had hand written it. Although,
he still verbally referred to him as 'Potter', in writing he referred to him as
'Harry'.
Harry considered just throwing it away. He held the parcel to his face. It
still smelled like Malfoy. Harry bit his bottom lip; the scent aroused him as
much as he didn't want to admit it.
Curiosity engulfed him. He pulled off the gold ribbon and opened the parcel.
The part of the parcel that was crumpled from when Harry had stepped on it did
not affect its contents. It was an ID bracelet. Although silver in color,
knowing the Malfoys, it was probably goblin-made of some rare precious metal.
Harry Potter was engraved on the plate.
Despite his anger at Malfoy for disrespecting Hermione, Harry now felt overcome
with guilt. Perhaps, had he just talked reasonably with Malfoy instead of
blowing up at him they could have worked out their differences.
Harry unclasped the bracelet, put it on his left wrist and closed it. Getting
up from his bed, he changed into his pajamas and set his glasses on his side
table. When he lifted the covers to lie back down, he realized he left the
empty parcel on the bed.
Grabbing the package to throw it away, he immediately changed his mind and
decided to keep it. Lifting the blankets over himself, Harry rested his head on
his pillow. Holding the parcel close to his facing, he inhaled through his
nose. Malfoy's delicate scent allowed him to comfortably fall asleep.
                                     -----
The next morning Harry found himself at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.
Ron, Dean and Seamus constantly looked over at him curiously, then whispered
amongst themselves.
He decided he didn't want to deal with this all day. If he confronted them, but
played oblivious, then maybe he could stop them now.
"Is there a reason you're all staring at me and whispering?" Harry asked.
Silence uncomfortably engulfed the group. Ron finally broke it, "I think you
know why, Harry."
"No." Harry lied.
"You were in the Defense Against the Dark Arts room last night with Malfoy."
Dean said, crossing his arms.
"What?" Harry laughed.
"You stayed with Malfoy in the prefects' bathroom." Ron said, "Then, we heard
Hermione talking to you two in Snape's classroom."
"Ron, after you left, I tried to follow you." Harry came up with an excuse off
the top of his head, "But, you were already out of sight. So, I walked around
until I was sure Malfoy was done using the bathroom. I never went to Snape's
classroom."
"Well," Ron thought hard for a rebuttal. He appeared to be lost at Harry's
explanation, "why did you stand up for Malfoy? Why didn't you stand up for me?"
"I wasn't standing up for Malfoy. I was suggesting we leave-"
"You suggested that I leave!" Ron interrupted.
"I'm sorry it came off that way, okay?!" Harry defensively replied, "I knew if
I started an argument with Malfoy, it would turn into a big duel. I wasn't in
the mood. I have enough to worry about with, you know. . ." he inclined his
head toward Ron.
Ron sat silently and nodded in comprehension, "Yeah, I just thought. . ." he
laughed, "It seems kind of stupid now that I think about it. I guess we did
drink too much firewhiskey last night, right mates?" He nudged an elbow toward
Dean and Seamus.
They appeared to buy Harry's story as well, because soon the Gryffindors were
all laughing.
Although, despite the fact they believed him, Harry didn't feel relieved. On
the contrary, his stomach felt as though it were twisted into a tight knot. Ron
was his best friend; Dean and Seamus were still very good friends. And here
Harry sat, blatantly lying to them.
Despite, the promise he had made to himself that morning, Harry still found his
eyes idly drifting toward the Slytherin table. He saw the back of Malfoy's
blond head. He had joined in the animated discussion between Zabini, Crabbe and
Goyle. Pansy Parkinson sat next to Zabini, shooting Malfoy loathsome glances.
Harry couldn't help but feel happy at that sight.
                                     -----
"So, what happened last night?" Hermione asked. She and Harry were at the
perimeter of the Black Lake. Hermione lay on her stomach, working on a piece of
parchment.
"Right after you left, Malfoy said that he guessed you weren't so bad." Harry
stood at the edge of the lake. He tossed a chunk of bread into the water and
watched a tentacle, from the giant squid, emerge from the water and grab it.
"That's good, right?" Hermione looked up with a smile.
"Then he said, 'For a Mudblood'. So, I told him I hated him." Harry tossed
another chunk of bread to the lake.
"Oh, my." Hermione sighed. She shook her head, but she still had the smile on
her face.
"What?" He said, throwing the last chunk of bread and turned toward Hermione.
"You rounded on Malfoy last night, on my behalf?" She asked.
"Yes." He walked over to her, "You act like that's a bad thing."
"Well, it kind of is. Saying you hate someone, that's pretty harsh."
"What?!" Harry sat down in front of her, "Why are you defending him? He called
you Mudblood! How was I in the wrong?"
"Okay, I'm not saying you're wrong, Harry." Hermione set down her parchment and
looked at him. Her eyes opened wide with empathy, "It was very noble of you to
stand up for me. Don't get me wrong, I really do appreciate that you did.
You're a really good friend. Just, do you remember what I said about Malfoy?
Don't expect too much too soon."
"How hard is it to not say that word?"
"With his upbringing, probably quite difficult. At least he made an effort."
"Effort?!" Harry snapped indignantly, "I can't believe what I'm hearing!"
"Look, you said that he said that he guessed I wasn't so bad, right?" Hermione
asked.
"Yes."
"Don't you see? For Malfoy, that's a really big breakthrough." Hermione
explained.
"I guess so." Harry sighed.
"You know so, Harry. You did the right thing, standing up for me. But, maybe
you should have been more patient with him."
Harry simply sighed again, pulling out his wand and idly shooting green sparks.
Hermione resumed her work on her parchment. They sat silently for a few moments
before Hermione asked, "I don't suppose you had an opportunity to see Malfoy's
forearm, did you?"
Harry shook his head and took an interest in plucking blades of grass.
"Harry." Hermione whined in disappointment.
"Look, Hermione." Harry's tone was filled with frustration, "I was about ready
to, but then you interrupted."
"No offense, Harry." Hermione's eyebrows raised, "But, when I interrupted, it
looked like you were doing no such thing."
Harry's lips curled into a thin line and his face flushed before he elaborated,
"Believe it or not, I actually was. I was trying to be inconspicuous. If I just
ran up to him and ripped up his sleeve, I would've looked like a prat if
nothing was there."
"Well, maybe instead of checking his forearm, you can ask him questions. Try to
see if he'll unknowingly admit to something."
Harry shrugged.
"When do you think you'll see him again?"
"When he apologizes!" Harry aggressively ripped out large chunks of grass.
"Oh, Harry. . ." Hermione sighed quietly under her breath.
Harry and Hermione were good enough friends that they could sit in each other’s
company without feeling uncomfortable with the silence. The events of the
previous night replayed in Harry's mind. He chuckled, suddenly remembering the
bizarre statement Peeves made.
"Hermione, what did you do to Peeves?"
Hermione mischievously grinned, "Well, as we know, Peeves likes to shout rumors
all about the school and, in some cases, sing them."
"Yeah. . ."
"So, I did a Verbal Secret Reversal Charm."
"A what?" Harry lifted a curious eyebrow.
"A Verbal Secret Reversal Charm." She repeated, "It's very old and advanced
magic. I've never done it before, so I wasn't sure it would work. Basically,
every time he tries to announce you and Malfoy's secret, he'll reveal something
deeply secret about himself. As you saw last night. . ."
"Brilliant!" Harry laughed and fell back lazily into the grass.
                                    ------
Rather than wallow in self-pity, Harry took Ron up on his offer to nick food
from the kitchens for the evening.
The boys returned to the common room with their arms full of sweets. Hermione
looked scandalized at the sight. She rounded on Ron, as opposed to Harry.
He went and sat with Dean, Ginny, Seamus and Neville, hearing Hermione scream
about house-elves and slave labor to Ron. Hermione ended up storming off to her
dormitory.
The group passed mugs of butterbeer, brandy, firewhiskey and sweets. They
reminisced about past experiences and laughed at the Slytherins' expense.
Ron continually brought up the incident that Malfoy was transfigured into a
ferret during their fourth year. The group laughed hysterically at Ron's
impersonation of Mad-Eye Moody (or rather, Barty Crouch Jr. disguised as Mad-
Eye Moody). Harry would force a laugh, too. But, every time Malfoy's name was
dropped, he felt an uncomfortable twinge in his abdomen.
As the evening grew later, Ginny eventually went to bed. She waited until Ron
was distracted to kiss Dean Goodnight. That was when the topic of girls was
brought to the conversation. Dean mostly listened, rather than comment about
Ginny, in fear of Ron's brotherly wrath.
"Who do you fancy, Neville?" Seamus poked him.
"Er-" Neville's face flushed pink.
"C'mon, mate." Ron socked him on the arm, playfully.
"Luna Lovegood." Neville hid his face.
"Looney Lovegood?" Ron chuckled.
"I dunno. Once you get past the awkwardness, she's pretty cool." Seamus chimed
in.
"What about you, Harry?" Dean asked.
"I don't know." Harry sighed. The correct answer would be "Draco Malfoy", but
he wasn't about to announce that.
"Who's that girl you dated last year?" Neville asked.
"You mean Cho?" Harry asked, crinkling his nose.
"She was a cutie!" Seamus said.
"And completely mental!" Ron chortled.
"Not to mention her friend sold us out. Dumbledore's Army, I mean. Oh! And she
cried when she kissed me." Harry finished.
The group all huddled over because they were laughing so hard. Even Harry had
to join in the laughs at that one.
                                     -----
Trying to avoid glancing at Malfoy throughout the school days proved harder for
Harry than ever. Harry was so unsure where he and Malfoy were going from here.
He wasn't sure if he should try to approach him or not.
No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that Malfoy was wrong and that
he was mad at him, he still found himself longingly glancing at the bracelet
Malfoy gave him. Every night, he pulled out the parcel the gift came in and
snuggled next to it. His desire grew with each passing night as Malfoy's
delicate scent gradually faded from the package.
Yet, Harry was stubborn. He understood Hermione's point fine. But, it didn't
negate the fact that he felt Malfoy had disrespected him. He guessed with how
proud the blond was, he too would be just as stubborn, whether they'd reconcile
and continue their relationship or not remained unclear.
Hermione did everything in her power to comfort Harry. He always appreciated
her reliability as a friend when he needed someone to talk to, but grew
irritated that she insisted Harry should try to approach him. He didn't
understand; Harry thought she, of all people, should be equally as angry at
Malfoy for his derogatory comments. Eventually, as their discussions made no
progress, Hermione stopped trying to press the issue.
Days pressed onto weeks. They were almost at the end of April and neither boy
made the slightest attempt to talk with one another. Malfoy didn't so much as
aggressively bump into Harry, how he longed for such negative attention.
As the time elapsed, he found himself sinking lower into the sinkhole of
emotions. His hope that Malfoy would try to make amends had completely
diminished. Oftentimes, when Harry found himself depressed over Malfoy, he'd
open the Marauder's Map. The effort proved pointless. Even if he did spot his
name on the map, he wasn't about ready to go looking for him.
His emotions raged war against one another. Every time he saw Malfoy in the
corridors or the Great Hall, his chest swelled with desire. He'd think that
maybe he was too harsh and should apologize. Then, the way Malfoy appeared to
go about his business as if nothing had ever happened between them angered
Harry. He felt considerably uncomfortable since their argument whenever in his
presence, the fact the blond seemed to not care one way or the other bothered
him. Harry bit his tongue spitefully, swearing to himself he didn't want to see
him again unless he apologized.
It didn't matter whether they were in lessons, practicing Quidditch or just
eating in the Great Hall. Every little thing reminded Harry of Malfoy.
Harry found himself in his normal routine of working on homework in the common
room with Hermione and Ron one warm Thursday evening. His green eyes were
intently concentrating on A History of Magic.
. . .which made him infamous. Lecretio was often described as having cold grey
eyes. . .
Harry groaned. He threw his head on his book and let his arms lay limply
sprawled. Even his History of Magic homework reminded him of Malfoy.
"Where'd you get that bracelet, Harry?" Ron asked.
Harry jerked his head up, looking at Ron curiously. It suddenly dawned on him
that Ron spoke of the bracelet Malfoy gave him. He had been so vigilant as to
keep it hidden, but his sudden moment of exasperation was his sudden moment of
weakness.
"Oh," Harry's head spun with a wheel of excuses, "when I got the stuff from
Sirius' will, this was included."
"But, it has your name on it." Ron lifted a curious eyebrow.
"Yeah, er-" Harry scratched his head, "I think he was going to give it to me as
a birthday gift or something."
"Oh." Ron’s eyebrows raised, like he felt guilty. Hermione glanced up from her
book.
But, Hermione remained silent throughout the evening. It wasn't until Ron went
to bed that she approached Harry, "You didn't get that from Sirius' will, did
you?"
"Is it that obvious?" Harry said, his eyes scanning over his parchment.
"Yes, you hesitated when you answered." she replied.
"Maybe it's because I'm still upset about Sirius." Harry's eyes continued to
casually review his homework.
"I'm sure that's what Ron thought. I just had a lucky guess, then." She
continued, "And I'll have another by guessing you got the bracelet from
Malfoy."
"Yep." Harry sighed.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione sounded slightly offended.
"Because I knew we'd end up having a long discussion like this. I'm not going
to go find him, so don't even bother suggesting that again."
She sighed, "Why?"
"Because I don't want to!" Harry rounded on her, "It's been well over a month.
Our relationship is over."
"You're just torturing yourself. You still care about him."
"No, I don't!" Harry snarled.
Hermione's gaze hit the ceiling. She shook her head and chuckled, "Then, why
are you wearing that bracelet?"
Harry bit his bottom lip, and his cheeks flushed. He had no excuse.
"Well, I'm going to bed." Hermione started putting away her books and
parchment, "That means, there's no prefects to notice if a student were to
leave the common room."
Hermione grabbed her bag. With a triumphant grin across her face, she exited to
her dormitory.
Harry sighed and stared at the portrait hole. It looked mighty tempting. He
pulled out the Marauder's Map.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
There was no sign of Malfoy anywhere. Harry groaned in disappointment. It
didn't matter if he wanted to see him or not. If Malfoy wasn't out in the
corridors, he couldn't meet him.
Feeling forlorn, Harry muttered, "Mischief managed." But, his heart suddenly
skipped a beat. The night he and Malfoy escaped Filch ran through his mind.
Gryffindor's hadn't changed since then, perhaps Slytherin's hadn't, either.
***** Chapter 9 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter was betaed by PrettyPinkDepression and QuixoticContradiction, to
whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
He pushed the door open a few inches, slowly, to prevent any creaking sounds.
Large shadows cascaded against the walls from the multiple four posters. Enough
moonlight gleamed through the windows to illuminate the sleeping boy's
pearlescent face. He had already checked many other dorms. Sighing with relief,
he entered the room, thankful his search was over. Stealthily stepping across
the carpet, he proceeded, careful not to awaken the others. Crawling on the
lush green bed, he straddled the sleeping boy. He didn't wake him immediately.
Brushing a stray blond hair from his closed eyelids, he silently admired his
beauty. He traced his chin with a gentle finger tip. Seeing him in his slumber,
he looked so innocent. He definitely was a receiver of the infamously handsome
Black family genes. Then, it occurred to him that having someone just sit and
watch you sleep was deplorable. He leaned forward and rest his chest against
the other boy's. With his lips right next to Malfoy's ear, he whispered, "Wake
up." Harry sat back up to see the blond's reaction. His eyes opened slowly, the
grey reflecting against the moonlight. Rubbing his eyes, he then blinked
rapidly, "Potter?" "Yes?" "Potter!" Malfoy's eyes opened as wide as possible,
any lingering drowsiness instantly deserted, "Oh my God! What are you doing
here?" He quickly sat up and shoved Harry off of him. Frantically grabbing his
wand off his side table, he then took all the hangings of his four poster and
shut them. "Not happy to see me?" Harry chuckled. He hadn't expected Malfoy to
react any other way. "I believe it was you who said you didn't want to see me
again!" Malfoy snarled, then whispered, "Lumos." "What can I say? I was angry."
Harry sat at the foot of the bed, casually leaning against one of the posts.
"You said you hated me." Malfoy scowled. He leaned against the headboard,
holding his glowing wand toward Harry. "I don't hate you." Harry sighed, "I did
say that, and at that moment I felt that way. Hermione's a close friend of
mine, Malfoy. You don't have to like her. I'm just asking you to be a little
respectful and not call her Mudblood." Malfoy's jaw twitched. He sat silently
for a moment, lifting his free hand and suddenly becoming interested in his
nails. He sighed and changed the subject, "How did you even get in here?" "I
heard you whisper the password the night we escaped Filch." Harry explained,
"It did take me a while to check which dormitory you were in. But, I found it."
"My God, Potter. You really went out of your way." Malfoy drawled, shaking his
head in a bemused sort of way. Harry simply shrugged. His lingering eyes fell
to the cuff of Malfoy's silver silk pajamas. Was there a Dark Mark hiding under
there? He remembered Hermione's advice about asking questions. But, what could
he ask? "Er- Aren't you scared that Death Eaters will attack you over the
summer?" Even Harry thought the random question sounded really sketchy. "No."
Malfoy laughed slightly and lifted an eyebrow, "You're fully aware of my
father's history. They're not going to be bothering us. Why would you ask that,
anyway?" "I was worried about you." Which really wasn't a lie, Harry thought.
Tossing his head back, Malfoy laughed, "I said it before, Potter. You are so
like a girl. But honestly, you should be more worried about yourself. You live
with Muggles, don't you? That doesn't sound very safe." "I do live with
Muggles, unfortunately. No, they're not all bad, Malfoy, just those ones. But,
since my aunt is related to my mum through blood, then I'm protected in my
house until I am seventeen or can no longer call the place home." Harry
explained. Malfoy swallowed hard and resumed his attention to his nails. Harry
wasn't sure whether to assess that Malfoy was safe from Death Eaters or working
with them. Harry thought if Hermione came up with only a single stupid idea,
this was it. Malfoy wasn't thick enough to fall for that. Harry was sick of
wondering; he had to know. Lunging toward Malfoy, Harry aggressively grabbed
his wrist. "Potter, what the hell are you doing?" Malfoy tried to pull his arm
back and push Harry off of him. Harry grabbed the cuff of the blond's pajamas.
He pulled the sleeve back to see nothing but pale white skin, "You don't have
one!" he exclaimed. "I don't have one what, exactly?! Have you gone completely
mad?!" Malfoy rubbed his wrist with his other hand as Harry had let go of him.
Harry couldn't think of a single explanation. He sat there dumbfounded but
immensely relieved. "Get the fuck out of my dormitory, Potter!" Malfoy snarled,
holding his wand in Harry's face. "No!" Harry pushed his arm away. He crawled
on his hands and knees so that his face was an inch from Malfoy's. Harry's
green eyes narrowed simultaneously with the other boy's silver eyes. "Admit it,
Malfoy. You want me here just as bad as I want to be here." "It doesn't matter.
If the other boys wake up-" "What's the matter, Malfoy? Afraid of getting
caught?" Harry taunted him with a smirk across his face. Shocked, Malfoy's eyes
widened. He carelessly tossed aside his wand. Grabbing Harry's glasses, he
threw them in the same mannerism. He soon found his hands grasping into the
ebony locks of the Gryffindor's hair, aggressively pulling his head toward his
own and pressing their lips together. Not about ready to object, Harry grabbed
handfuls of Malfoy's silky pajamas to pull himself closer. With their bodies
pressed together, the boys stood upright on their knees. Malfoy leaned forward.
Harry submitted, adjusting his legs, so he laid comfortably on his back. The
taller boy used one of his arms to support himself. Harry's legs hung open so
Malfoy could lie comfortably in between. With his lips still pressed against
Harry's, he opened his mouth slightly, and the brunet obediently followed.
Malfoy slid his tongue into his mouth. Harry responded to however Malfoy led.
The blond slid his hand out from underneath Harry's head and tugged at his
collar. He unbuttoned the first button with a single flick of his thumb. His
hand slid down the center hem of Harry's shirt, flipping out every button one
by one. Breaking their passionate kiss, Malfoy grabbed each side of the shirt
and pulled apart, revealing the shorter boy's chest. Malfoy grabbed Harry's
shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position. With the other boy’s
assistance, the button-up shirt was unceremoniously thrown to the foot of the
bed. Harry gripped the top of Malfoy's silver pajamas and pulled them over his
head. With his glasses off and the covered four poster barely lit by the tip of
the Slytherin's wand abandon in a corner, seeing was difficult. But, he managed
to slowly take in enough of Malfoy's form. Harry's mouth moistened
significantly, and he bit lightly onto his bottom lip in anticipation. Malfoy
flung his arms around the shorter boy's neck and embraced him close. He locked
their lips for a moment but let his mouth slide to the back of Harry's ear. His
tongue slid against the curve and crevice. Appreciative of the attention, Harry
exhaled a soft sigh. Every spot of skin that Malfoy’s lips and tongue touched
tingled in exhilaration. Locks of the taller boy's blonde hair tickled Harry's
face. He inhaled slowly through his nose, savoring Malfoy's delicate scent. It
was much more pleasant in person than lingering on an old parcel. Malfoy's
tongue slid down the side of Harry's neck, where he nibbled gently at the base.
Harry moaned, pressing his throbbing erection against Malfoy. Alert to Harry’s
needs, Malfoy’s fingers were quickly fumbling with his trousers. With Harry’s
assistance, the trousers, along with his boxers, socks and shoes, were quickly
disregarded as obsolete material. Malfoy had to, reluctantly, pull his mouth
from the shorter boy's skin in order to rid of his own trousers and
undergarments. Malfoy laid Harry back down to resume his lip work to the
Gryffindor's collar bone but was surprised to be letting out a moan of
satisfaction from his own mouth. Harry had sunk his teeth right into his
shoulder. Malfoy retaliated by grinding his hips forward, letting their hard
cocks press firmly against one another. Harry pulled his head back and
whimpered with desire. "Like that, do you, Potter?" "Yes." Harry pleaded. The
taller boy smirked, lowering his hand to grip both their hard-ons in his palm.
He slowly lifted his hand, then pulled down, repeating this process with slow
sensual strokes. Harry's breathing grew steadily more audible as well as shaky.
Biting his bottom lip, Harry found this almost too pleasurable. Malfoy would
intensely squeeze with every lift. He could feel the pulse in the blond's dick
pound against his own. Malfoy had barely started, yet Harry felt he was already
about to come. His arms lay stiffly to the side, aggressively digging his
fingers into the green silk sheets. "You're not coming on me yet, Potter."
Malfoy ordered. Harry nodded, but felt he'd have no control as to whether or
not he could obey. Malfoy had suddenly released his grip. Harry's cock throbbed
painfully; he wasn't ready to stop. He lifted his knees and hugged them against
Malfoy's hips. He forced his own hips upward so their pricks rubbed together
again. The blond groaned, placing a hand on the shorter boy's chest, as if
trying to restrain him. Harry thrust his hips up, again. Malfoy stifled a moan,
biting hard onto his bottom lip and clenching his eyes shut. Harry smirked,
amused at the sight of holding power over him. Malfoy didn't appear to agree.
When his eyes opened, they pierced into Harry so hard he was almost sure he
could physically feel it. They were so bold, just like Sirius'. Malfoy gripped
Harry's biceps and flipped him onto his stomach in a single motion. Harry's
eyes opened wide. Before he could round on the blond about what he was doing,
he found himself gasping with surprise. The tip of Malfoy's tongue slid from
his tail bone, up his spine and to the base of his neck. Harry shuddered in
response to the sudden invigorating sensation. Malfoy let his tongue slide back
down. This time, he passed the shorter boy's tail bone into the crevice of his
ass. Burying his face into the green sheets, Harry's moan was muffled when he
felt Malfoy's tongue nudge against his opening. He was also sure he could feel
a trace amount of pre-cum ejaculate from his painfully hard erection. Slowly,
Malfoy traced his way back up to the base of Harry's neck. The blond slid his
arms around his torso. Pulling back, Malfoy rested upright on his knees with
the other boy's back toward him. Harry leaned into him, and Malfoy tightened
his embrace. He could feel the blond's hard-on pressing firmly into the small
of his back. Harry sighed in longing. Harry's head turned to the side. Malfoy
had let go of him and was reaching for his wand. Eyes widening curiously, he
could barely make out Malfoy waving his wand and summoning an object. The blond
threw his wand back to the corner, the tip still illuminated. Harry couldn't
tell what he had, only that he was emptying the object's contents into his
hand. Before Harry could figure out what he was doing, Malfoy had dropped the
object and used his free hand to pull the shorter boy close to him. Eyes
widening, not a single sound could escape from Harry's shocked throat when
Malfoy carefully inserted a well-lubricated finger into his asshole. The
Slytherin slid his finger back and forth through Harry's tight ring of muscle.
His breathing trembled; he couldn't hold back a soft but desperate whimper. "I
knew you would like that, Potter. You little poofter." Malfoy drawled with a
smirk. "Fuck you, Malfoy." Yet, the bite commonly heard in Harry's snappy
rebuttals was missing. "Mmmm, no." Malfoy very casually replied, slipping in a
second finger, "I believe it is I who will be fucking you." Biting onto his
bottom lip, Harry grunted when Malfoy put in the third finger. Harry felt the
taller boy's cock press hard against his back as he rocked his hips forward
every time he slid his fingers inward. Feeling like he was going to burst,
Harry leaned into Malfoy's hand every time he pressed in deeper. He whined with
desire, desperately wanting more of Malfoy inside him. Pulling his fingers out,
Malfoy reached down and grabbed the bottle Harry now knew was lubricant.
Pouring more into his hand, he then appeared to be stroking himself with what
Harry could make out by glancing over his shoulder. That was when he realized
Malfoy's intent. His heart anxiously skipped a beat, and he swallowed hard.
Tossing the bottle behind him and digging his nails into Harry's shoulder, the
blond aggressively pulled him back so his lips were pressed against Harry's
ear, "Nervous, Potter?" he said. "No!" Harry defiantly whispered. But the truth
was, he felt very anxious. Beads of sweat formed at his hairline, and his heart
beat at a rapid rate. Smirking, Malfoy slowly pressed Harry forward, so he was
resting on his hands and knees. He could feel Malfoy's erection pressed firmly
against his opening. Harry gasped as the Slytherin very carefully entered him.
Feeling Malfoy’s hands come to rest against his hips, Harry found the blond's
touch was very comforting as he continued to slowly push his dick inside the
shorter boy. His lip quivering, Harry breathed slowly to let his entire body
relax. A long, trembling breath escaped his lips when Malfoy's full length was
inside him. He and Malfoy were one, a truth that Harry himself never would've
predicted. Pulling his hips back slowly, Malfoy thrust forward right before he
fully pulled out the head of his cock. Harry had inhaled and let a soft,
"Mmmm." escape his throat. The anxiety he felt before Malfoy had entered him
was gone, replaced by euphoria. He had been nervous about the possibility of
pain. This certainly was his first time, girl or boy. Although, it did hurt, it
wasn't unpleasant. Like when the blond would dig his nails into Harry’s back,
the pain was pleasurable. Malfoy licked his lips, gradually thrusting his hips
faster. He leaned forward slightly, letting his hands slide into the crevices
of Harry's underarms. Very carefully, the blond lifted him so his back was
against his chest. Malfoy let his arms snugly cradle around the Gryffindor's
abdomen. He rested his cheek against Harry's head. His breathing still
unsteady, Harry wrapped his arms around Malfoy's. He closed his eyes gently,
slightly leaning his ass against Malfoy to encourage him to move faster. He
obliged with no hesitation. Turning his head to the side, Harry then lifted an
arm to gently brush Malfoy's chin. The Slytherin lowered his head slightly and
turned so they could passionately lock lips. His fingers running through
Malfoy's soft blond hair, Harry slid out his tongue to playfully brush against
the taller boy's lips. Malfoy's tongue quickly responded, massaging his tongue
aggressively against the other boy's. Harry's neck strained. The position they
were in was extraordinarily uncomfortable, and he found it not intimate enough
for his liking. Breaking Malfoy's arms apart, Harry lowered himself, so he was
back on his hands and knees. Leaning forward, he let the blond's prick slowly
slide completely out of him. Before Malfoy could protest, Harry flipped himself
around, so he was, yet again, on his back. Malfoy picked up from Harry's cue
immediately. He lowered himself, using his arms so he could keep himself
propped over Harry. The brunet loosely wrapped his legs around the taller boy's
waist. Malfoy proceeded by letting his erection re-enter Harry. Their lips met
once more, but Harry let his lips stray from Malfoy's and slide across his
cheek and down his neck. The way Malfoy masochistically enjoyed when Harry bit
his shoulder drove him wild. He let his tongue glide across the pale skin,
first, savoring the blond's wonderful flavor. When his teeth made contact,
Malfoy was unable to hold himself back. He pumped his dick into Harry at a
highly intense speed, smacking into his prostate. He forcefully slipped his
arms under Harry and dug his nails into his back. The Gryffindor cried out in
delight. "Like it when I fuck you, Potter?" "Yes!" "Say my name!" "Draco!" A
smirk immediately drew across the blond's face. Malfoy hadn't been expecting
Harry to cry that out, after all. He tightly clutched onto the shorter boy's
cock and started rapidly stroking him at the same rate that he was thrusting
his way into him. Harry bit his bottom lip like he never had before. He could
feel the sweat thickly drip from his forehead. His pulse pounded throughout his
entire body. He wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. Eyes clenched tightly
shut, blood from Harry's bottom lip saturated his tongue, he was biting it so
hard. Electric green shone when Harry's eyes suddenly sprung open. He let out
the loudest shout of ecstasy as his seed shot up, splattering across his and
Malfoy's chests. Malfoy smirked; Harry felt quite sure he felt proud that he
had made him come first. But the pride was short lived. Soon the blond let out
a harsh grunt of his own. The nails buried into Harry's back pulled across,
only adding to the Gryffindor's pleasure. He could definitely feel blood drip
from the scratches. The boys were completely oblivious to the silvery glow that
had formed around them. When they had come, it exploded with a loud boom,
shooting throughout the room like a supernova. The draped hangings flared.
Items on night stands crashed to the floor. The thick pained windows burst,
sending shards of shattered glass amongst the Hogwarts grounds. The boys' heads
were immediately poking out of the hangings. Their eyes bulged, and they held
their breaths. Malfoy found his wand still lit at the tip. Harry's attention
was directed to the two beds with large figures. He assumed they must be Crabbe
and Goyle. "They won't wake for anything. It's those two I'm worried about."
Malfoy whispered. He jerked his head in the direction of the other two four
posters. The boys in the other beds stirred. One simply rolled over and resumed
snoring. The other sat bolt upright, "Wazgoin'on? Wha'appen?" he asked
groggily. Harry recognized his voice as Blaise Zabini. Malfoy flicked his
wrist. A jet of white light hit Zabini in the chest. He fell over, snoring, as
if he were never awakened. Harry and Malfoy laid back on the bed, heaving great
sighs of relief. They lay silent for a moment before the blond suddenly grabbed
Harry's left wrist, noticing the gleaming bracelet, "You actually kept this?"
"Of course I did. And thank you, by the way." Harry replied, his engraved name
reflecting against the wand's light. Malfoy smirked, whispering, "Nox." The
glowing tip of his wand dissolved. With a single swish of the wand, the boys'
bodily fluids were magically cleaned. Setting his wand on his side table,
Malfoy lay next to Harry and turned him so his back was facing him. He wrapped
an arm around Harry and pulled him in close, throwing the plush green comforter
over them. Harry adjusted himself comfortably and took Malfoy's hand. He used
his free arm to support his head, under the pillow. "Malfoy?" Harry whispered.
"Hmm?" "Next week is the Easter Holidays." "Yeah, and?" Harry could hear the
drowsiness in Malfoy's voice. "Are you going to be here, or are you leaving?"
"I'm supposed to go home on Saturday." "Do you think. . . maybe, you could
stay?" "Are you serious, Potter?" "Please." "Yeah," The blond yawned, "I'll
write my mother tomorrow and tell her I'm staying." Harry's stomach fluttered
in delight. He squeezed Malfoy's hand. They lay in silence for several minutes
before Harry swallowed nervously, "I love you." he whispered. He let go of
Draco's hand and turned to face him. The blond was already fast asleep. Harry
smiled and brushed Draco's loose locks out of his face and behind his ear. He
planted a small kiss on his cheek before soundly falling to sleep himself.
***** Chapter 10 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter has been betaed by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
The floor swirled fluidly, with a marble design of black and green. Harry's
hands and knees froze against the cold floor. He pushed himself up to his feet.
Harry didn’t recognize the area. He guessed he was in a room of a grand
mansion. The unfamiliar territory was adorned with fine furniture, portraits,
and a large fireplace. Yet, all these objects silhouetted against the dimly lit
fireplace, emanating black smoke that moved in a liquid motion. The fireplace
exploded with a green flash. Two dark figures emerged from the flames. The
taller figure approached Harry first. "Malfoy!" Harry smiled, approaching him.
Draco laughed hysterically. But, it wasn't his voice. His laugh was piercing
and high pitched, which was eerily familiar. It made Harry stop dead in his
tracks. The second figure approached, laughing wildly. It clutched the arm of
the figure in Draco's likeness. It appeared to be Pansy Parkinson. "I already
told you, Potter! Draco's my boyfriend!" she said. Her eyes flared with
madness. "No, he's not!" Harry shrieked, "Get away from him!" Although they
represented the Slytherins that Harry knew in their physique, he felt they were
not them. The figures in the images of Draco and Parkinson looked at each
other. The room swelled with their insane laughter. Harry's scar burned
painfully when the blond figure suddenly made eye contact with him. His eyes
weren't silver, but glowed blood red. Harry found himself back on his knees,
clutching his left wrist, which was throbbing. He looked down at his bracelet
that illuminated a harsh green glow. It burned intensely into his flesh. Harry
desperately clutched the clasp. He couldn't undo it. He fell to the floor,
crying with pain; the distorting figures howled wickedly. "Potter!" Draco's
actual voice echoed loudly throughout the room. Eyes opening wide, Harry looked
around curiously. The pain from his bracelet disappeared, the dark room
replaced with infinite white. "Potter, wake up!" The voice boomed. Harry's body
jerked in surprise. He was still lying in Draco's four poster. The Slytherin
hunched over him with his arm on Harry’s shoulder. His eyes were wide with fear
that he had never seen in Draco before. He was already fully dressed. "What?"
Harry mumbled, with an eyebrow raised at Draco's curious expression. Draco
swallowed hard, "You need to get up and get dressed." With a yawn, Harry
stretched his sore muscles. The glass-free windows made the room drafty. One of
the hangings of the four poster was pulled open. Harry guessed from the minimal
amount of light that peaked through the empty windows that it must have still
been very early. "Do I have to?" Harry whined. He definitely did not get enough
sleep. The thought of skiving lessons and spending the day being lazy in bed
with Draco Malfoy sounded much more appealing. "Yes. It's still early, so most
of the Slytherins will be asleep for a little longer." Draco explained, "We
need to sneak you out while we can." Groaning, Harry sat up reluctantly. He
felt thin metal slide against his temples, as Draco put his glasses on for him.
Harry crawled to the foot of the bed and snatched his clothing. "Where's your
invisibility cloak?" Draco asked. "Er-" Harry hesitated, slipping his button-up
shirt over his shoulders. "Where is your invisibility cloak, Potter?" Draco
repeated, his tone of voice growing worrisome. Harry swallowed hard, "In the
Gryffindor common room." he said so low that it was almost impossible to hear.
"What?!" Draco's eyes widened. "How could you just leave it in your common
room?" "I dunno." Harry sighed, pulling on his trousers, "I just got excited
and forgot." Harry's heart pounded rapidly. He, once again, found himself in an
undesirable position due to the fact he didn't look before he leaped. The
invisibility cloak was in the pocket of his school robes, which was draped over
a chair in the Gryffindor Tower. Not only that but his homework, books and
worst of all, the Marauder's Map were all left in the open. He had wiped the
map before he left. But, if someone found it, they might throw it away thinking
it was an elderly sheet of parchment. "Wait!" Harry suddenly had an idea,
"Right before our fifth year, Mad-Eye Moody cast a Disillusionment Charm on
me." "That mental bloke that taught Defense Against the Dark Arts in our fourth
year?" Draco asked. "Yeah, but that wasn't really him. That was- er, never
mind." Harry realized he was straying from the issue, "The point is the
Disillusionment Charm. Do you know how to do one?" "No. Don't you?" "No." Harry
sighed. "Seriously, Potter!" Draco drawled impatiently, "Someone cast it on
you, and you don't remember the enchantment?" "It was nonverbal!" Harry
snarled. Draco sat with his arms crossed. He stared at the ceiling as if in
deep thought. Harry's gaze fell to his feet. He pulled his socks on, then was
soon lacing his trainers. His attention was caught by Draco Malfoy who suddenly
rummaged through his trunk. It was silver with a magnificent crest. Probably
too heavy for him to carry but Harry assumed that Draco never actually had to
carry it himself. The blond spun around with a spare set of Slytherin robes.
"Put these on." Draco said, flinging the robes to Harry, "Keep the hood over
your head, and hide your face." "Do Slytherins typically wear their robes like
that?" Harry caught the robes and lifted an eyebrow. "No." "You don't think
that's going to look a little suspicious?" "If we're lucky, there will be few
or no students down there." Draco explained, "But if there are, then it will
look less suspicious than Harry Potter casually walking around the Slytherin
common room." Harry shrugged and quirked his head in agreement, acknowledging
Draco's point. He flung the robes around himself and pulled the hood over his
head. Grabbing Harry's wrist, Draco led him to the staircase. They stopped at
the foot of the stairs. Harry pulled back the hood high enough to see but left
a shadow that obscured his face. A few students already inhabited the common
room. The entrance burst open, and a group of girls came bustling through. They
eagerly whispered amongst themselves. "Draco!" One of the girls squealed. It
was Pansy Parkinson. She made a beeline straight to the blond, "What are you
doing up already? I never see you in the common room this early! Who's with
you?" She stood on tiptoes, in an attempt to peak over Draco's shoulder and get
a look at Harry, "Blaise? No, too short." Harry narrowed his eyes instinctively
to the last comment, despite the fact she couldn't see him. "Er- Pansy, now is
not a good time." Draco gently placed his hands on her shoulders; a line of
sweat trickled down the side of his face. "Honestly, what's wrong, Draco?!" She
pouted, pulling away from the blond, "What did I do? I can change!" "No, i-it's
not that." Harry could hear the anxiety in Draco's voice. The onslaught of
Slytherin girls neared them. They were like a pack of ravenous wolves. Their
eyes narrowed at Draco, like starving dogs ready to attack. Suddenly, the boys
could hear the sounds of doors opening and footsteps echoing throughout the
staircase, closing in behind them. They were surrounded and trapped. Harry
swallowed hard. This was it-- they were too lucky in the past. There was no way
of getting out of this. A high-pitched scream flooded the common room.
Everyone's attention was immediately drawn to the gang of Slytherin girls. The
hood of Millicent Bulstrode's robes was on fire. Parkinson and the rest of the
girls were immediately to her aid. Draco took quick hold of their advantageous
moment. He snatched Harry's arm, led him around the group of distressed females
and ran into the dungeons. The corridors were empty. "Oh, my! I didn't mean to
hit her hood. I hope she's not seriously hurt." came an apprehensive female
voice. The couple looked around curiously. There was no one there besides them.
Harry's focus was suddenly caught by many bricks that distorted slightly. Then,
Hermione's head appeared out of thin air. Harry realized she was wearing the
invisibility cloak. "Hermione!" Harry gasped. The hood fell off his head as he
was startled. "You?" Draco appeared just as startled, "You set her robes on
fire! But, how did you get in the Slytherin common room?" "I just snuck in when
the girls entered." Hermione casually explained. "But, how did you even know I
would be in there?" Harry asked. More bricks from the walls distorted, then
Hermione's hand appeared out of nowhere, clutching a tatty piece of parchment.
"Thank goodness." Harry sighed with relief, recognizing the parchment as the
Marauder's Map. "Exactly why would an old sheet of parchment help you find out
he was here?" Draco asked, eying the map suspiciously. "Er-" Harry
uncomfortably scratched the back of his neck. "Because, Malfoy, it's enchanted.
Don't ask what it is. It's mine, and it's none of your business." Hermione
replied pointedly. Harry guessed from the position of her hand and the way the
wall mildly wavered again that Hermione must have crossed her arms. "I don't
care. I wasn't going to ask." Draco retorted with a childish tone, crossing his
arms and narrowing his eyes. "Good because I wouldn't tell you!" Hermione's
tone was just as immature. Harry half-expected her to stick her tongue out at
him, but she didn't. Knowing his and Draco's relationship would never progress
if he and Hermione constantly bickered, Harry whined, "Please don't fight, you
two." He imagined trying to get Ron and Draco to get along was going to be a
significantly more difficult battle. But, he thought it best to take it one
step at a time. "Sorry, Harry." Hermione sighed. Her hand and the exposed map
disappeared, leaving Harry to assume that she must have let her arms fall
loosely to her sides. Draco kept his arms crossed. His gaze averted to the
ceiling, and he shrugged indifferently. "Please." Harry nagged, tugging on the
sleeve of Draco's robes. Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes, "I guess you're not
so bad." He occurred to be struggling to speak. He didn't even bother looking
at Hermione, "That was pretty cool, the way you distracted them. You're alright
for a-" he hesitated, "Muggle-born." "Malfoy!" Harry shouted, indignantly.
Sure, he said Muggle-born, not Mudblood. But, it still sounded just as bad.
"No, it's okay, Harry!" Hermione ran up to him and placed a gentle hand on his
shoulder. She smiled warmly toward Draco, "Thank you, Malfoy." Draco
momentarily glanced in her direction with a slight smirk across his face, but
he remained silent. "Harry, we need to get back to the Gryffindor common room."
Hermione urged him, trying to drag him along. "Wait." Harry pulled Draco to
face him, "Can we meet tonight?" "I'm busy tonight, Potter." "But-" "Listen. I
told you I would stay during the Easter Holidays." Draco explained, "I have a
lot of homework. If you let me finish it tonight, then we can spend all day
tomorrow and the entire week together." "Okay." Harry grinned. "Can you excuse
us for a moment, Granger?" Draco looked in her direction, "Please." he
hesitantly added. Harry grinned to himself. Draco was trying to be nice. He
wasn't doing the best job, but he was actually trying. "Oh! Of course." she
smiled. She slipped off the invisibility cloak and handed it to Harry, "Meet me
in the Entrance Hall." she said before heading down the dungeons. Draco's
silver eyes stayed on Hermione until she was out of sight. He glimpsed at the
empty spot on the wall that concealed the door to the Slytherin common room.
When he was certain they were alone, he grabbed Harry by the collar of the
robes and fiercely locked their lips. Harry instinctively stood on tiptoes and
threw his arms around Draco's neck. This sudden display of affection from the
blond's behalf made Harry feel he wouldn't care if even Snape caught them.
Harry was blushing when they pulled apart. He lifted the invisibility cloak to
throw it over himself, but suddenly looked surprised, "Your robes!" He dropped
the cloak and reached to pull off the Slytherin robes. "It's okay, Potter."
Draco leaned down and picked up the invisibility cloak for him, "You can keep
them. I have loads." "Thanks." Harry smiled, throwing the invisibility cloak
over his entire body, except for his head. "Where will we meet tomorrow?" "You
are so like a girl. I don't know how many times I'll say that." Draco smirked,
"Don't worry about it. I'll sort it, okay?" Harry grinned and nodded. Draco
shook his head in a bemused sort of way and playfully ruffled the top of the
shorter boy's hair before turning to the Slytherin common room. Throwing the
invisibility cloak over his head, Harry watched Draco until he was gone.
                                     -----
"Hermione!" Harry whispered.
Locks of bushy brown hair swirled around as Hermione scanned the empty Entrance
Hall, utterly confused.
"I'm here." Harry explained, taking off the hood of the invisibility cloak.
"Oh! Keep that thing on!" She hastily ran over to him and threw the hood back
over his head.
She turned toward the great marble staircase and led the way. Unseen, Harry
followed by her side.
"Can I ask you something?" Harry whispered.
"Can it wait? If someone sees us, they'll think I'm talking to myself."
Hermione said, "I'll look completely mad."
"So. Everyone already thinks you're mental." Harry chuckled.
"Shut up!" Hermione grinned.
But Harry didn't adhere to Hermione's request. Instead, he continued by asking
how, exactly, did she find him in the Slytherin common room. He remembered
countless occasions where he searched for Draco Malfoy and couldn't pick his
name from the rest in the Slytherin dormitories. Also, Hermione had made it in
there way too fast to have only spotted his name when he and Draco were on the
staircase.
First lecturing Harry about leaving his belongings out in the open, the
brunette then explained that when she put his stuff away, she saw that he
wasn't in his bed. Since, she was unable to spot Harry's name on the Marauder's
Map, she could only assume he was either outside Hogwarts grounds or in the
Slytherin dormitories.
Seeing as it would be illogical that the couple would've sneaked onto the
grounds-- not to mention, it would take ages to search, Hermione pursued the
Slytherin Dungeons on simply guesswork.
"I was lucky to find that group of girls, actually." Hermione continued,
"Speaking of which, you two need to keep an eye out for Pansy Parkinson. She
was going on about Malfoy sneaking around a lot. Apparently, she's angry that
Malfoy hasn't been affectionate with her for a while now. She was trying to get
all the girls to find him, and said they're all going to watch him and follow
him, if he sneaks out again."
"What?!" Harry suddenly stopped on one of the stairs and snatched Hermione's
arm, "Why didn't you say something when Malfoy was around? He needs to know!"
"I'm so sorry, Harry. I forgot!" Hermione's voice was filled with guilt, and
her eyebrows empathetically raised.
"How could you forget?" Harry asked with a low growl.
"I was more concerned with causing a diversion and getting you out of there
unnoticed!" She snapped.
"I'm going back!" Harry's voice was filled with panic and urgency, "I have to
tell him!"
"You can tell him tomorrow, Harry! You need to get back to your dormitory.
We've pressed our luck getting you around unnoticed as it is."
"How am I supposed to tell him tomorrow if Parkinson or one of those other
girls are following him?"
"You're being impulsive again, Harry." Hermione said as delicately as possible,
"Malfoy may be proud and arrogant, but he's not thick. I'm sure he'll get
around her tomorrow. You can warn him then. He may already know. He knows her a
lot better than we do, after all."
"Yeah." Harry sighed, "Sorry about what he said back there."
"I'm not." Hermione continued to lead them to the Gryffindor common room, "He
didn't call me Mudblood."
"Yeah, but-"
"Harry, if anyone has a right to really become offended over it, it's me, and
I'm not. So, you shouldn't be. Look. It’s the same reason I don't get upset
when Kreacher calls me Mudblood. Malfoy's battling sixteen years worth of
beliefs that have been instilled in him since birth. And he's doing it for you.
“You should be happy.” Hermione continued, assisting Harry to jump over the
trick step, “He's different around you; I can see it. When I first realized you
two had a relationship, I thought it would be such a disaster. But, seeing you
today, I realized I was wrong. You actually look very right for each other.
It's cute, really."
Harry was glad the invisibility cloak was over him. Hermione couldn't see the
big grin across his face or his utterly flushed his cheeks.
"So, you're going to spend all next week together?" Hermione casually asked,
breaking the silence.
"Yeah, that's the plan." Harry replied.
"How are you going to explain your absence to Ron?"
"Er-"
"You expect me to keep him distracted, don't you?"
"Yes, er- No, I don't expect you to. . ." Harry sighed, "But, could you?"
"I've covered for you and Malfoy a lot, Harry."
"I know." he whined.
The pair remained silent as they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady.
Hermione said the password, and they entered. A few students already littered
the common room.
Hermione led them to a secluded area. She pulled out her wand and whispered,
"Muffliato."
"Hypocrite!" Harry shouted.
"It's very rude to call people names, Harry. Especially when they're going to
be keeping Ron distracted so you can have fun all next week!"
"I- Wait. You will?" Harry's heart leaped.
"Of course." Hermione smiled kindly.
Harry threw his arms around her. Hermione was taken aback, as she couldn't see
him. "You're the best!" he exclaimed.
"What would you do without me?" Hermione grinned.
"I'd probably be dead." Harry chuckled, "Oi, I have good news!"
"What's that?" Hermione asked.
"I checked Malfoy's forearm." Harry pulled back the hood of the cloak, "There's
no Dark Mark!"
"Oh!" Hermione gasped genially, "That's great!" she threw her arms around
Harry's neck.
                                     -----
Even though he had been significantly sleep deprived, Harry had never felt more
energized. Not even a day full of lessons could take down his mood.
During breakfast, lunch and dinner, he dreamily glanced to the Slytherin table.
Occasionally, Harry felt really lucky when Draco periodically looked back and
grinned at him for a moment. Harry, of course, smiled back every time. But, he
was especially delighted to see that the blond rounded on Pansy Parkinson each
time she followed him when he parted from the table early. Hermione must have
been right about him knowing her well.
The highlight of the day was when Harry headed to his Potions class. He was
surprised to see the Entrance Hall completely clogged with students. It quickly
escalated into a cluster of chaos.
Harry lost sight of Hermione and Ron almost immediately. He noticed Luna
Lovegood a good distance behind him, but he didn’t recognize the other
surrounding students. It wasn't long before Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall
and Snape arrived. Apparently, Peeves had booby-trapped any path leading to the
Entrance Hall, so students could get in but not out.
Harry was squished arm to arm, chest to back. The entire mass was crammed.
Then, he suddenly felt gentle fingers interlace with his own. He looked up in
surprise. Draco Malfoy glanced back at him with a wink. Harry lovingly squeezed
his hand; the gesture was pleasantly returned.
How ironic, there they stood, holding hands practically in front of the entire
school, but nobody could see it. Originally annoyed at the crowded
inconvenience, Harry then didn't mind if they had to stay like that all day.
Come evening, Hermione made an excellent point that Harry should finish as much
homework as possible. That way, he could enjoy the Easter Holidays with Draco
worry-free.
Ron didn't appear to have the same point of view. Of course, he wasn't aware in
the slightest as to what Harry's intentions were. He spent his night being
rowdy with the other Gryffindor boys.
Harry's wrist and fingers were throbbing with pain when he finally got to bed,
certain he had never written so much in his life.
After changing into his pajamas, he reached to close the trunk. Draco's spare
set of Slytherin robes had been lazily tossed there many hours previously.
Flopping onto his bed, Harry set aside his glasses and clutched the robes close
to his body. They released a floral aroma that was definitely not Draco's.
They'd obviously been laundered before given to Harry. Although admittedly
disappointed, the Gryffindor was just happy to have something of Draco's to
cuddle.
The thoughts of how great the next week was going to be buzzed loudly through
Harry's mind. He was so excited; it took quite some time to actually fall
asleep. Eventually, he drifted off soundly, a small smile still drawn across
his sleeping face.
***** Chapter 11 *****

Author's notes: .
===============================================================================
This chapter has been betaed by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
Saturday morning arrived, and the sun barely peaked over the horizon. The
majority of the student body peacefully slept. One who did not was Harry
Potter. Despite the early hour of the morning, Harry couldn’t possibly fall
back to sleep. All he could think about was when he'd see Draco Malfoy or where
they'd meet. How surprised he was to see he wasn't the only one in his
dormitory wide awake. "Neville? What are you doing?" Harry asked, sliding on
his glasses. "Hiya Harry!" Neville turned around with a smile. A pile of
clothes was loosely bundled in his arms, "Gran wants me home for the Easter
Holidays. I thought I'd better wake up early to pack, so I don't end up
forgetting anything. What about you? Don't you usually sleep in on Saturdays?"
"Yep." Harry said, very lively. He started going through his trunk, "But, I'm
going to be very busy today, and I'm too excited to sleep in." "Oh, what are
your plans?" Neville asked curiously. "Lets just say, I'm going to be spending
the day with someone." Harry casually replied. Sorting through the clothes in
his trunk, he started growing annoyed that he couldn't find anything to wear.
"Who?" Neville asked, setting the pile of clothes on his bed and returning to
his own trunk. "That much I can't tell you. Sorry, Neville." Harry smiled
empathetically. He wasn't normally so conversational in the morning, but he
wasn't normally in this good a mood, either. "It's okay, Harry." Neville looked
back with a friendly grin, "I hope you have fun!" Harry sighed. The nicest
clothes he had, were pieces of his school uniform. He didn't want to wear those
today, though. He wanted to look nice for Draco. But, with his options mostly
Dudley's hand-me-downs, it didn't look too promising. Eventually, he settled on
his school pants and a white button-up shirt. Groaning, Harry felt disappointed
that it was the only half decent thing he had. When he descended to the common
room, he found it mostly empty. By the fireplace, Harry could see the back of a
bushy brown head sitting by herself. Her nose was buried deep in her book. . .
.Careful not to attract suspicion, caution was always taken by Godric
Gryffindor. Slytherin's power was beyond measure, but he was also skillfully
deceptive. So, it was with. . . "Harry!" He jumped, "What?!" "It's very rude to
read over someone's shoulder unannounced, you know." Hermione scolded, closing
her book. "Oh," Harry sighed, taking the chair opposite Hermione, "I'm sorry. I
didn't mean to." "It's okay." Hermione replied, leaning forward slightly and
resting her arms on the book on her lap, "You're up early." "I can't sleep. I
was too excited. And. . ." Harry hesitated, "I need your help." "I'll do what I
can." She casually shrugged. "The thing is- how to put this. . . Since, you're
a girl, you're better at this thing than I am. Dudley's hand-me-downs are
awful, but I don't want to wear my school uniform clothes either, because I
want to. . . er-" he bit his bottom lip and his cheeks flushed pink lightly. A
sly grin drew across Hermione's face. She whispered, "You want to look good for
Malfoy?" "Don't laugh at me!" Harry covered his face with his hands. "Stand up.
I’ll see what I can do." Harry stood, Hermione's eyes drifted from his head to
his feet, "Really, all we need to do is make a few minor changes. You'll look
nice, and no one will know you're wearing your school clothing." Drawing her
wand, she walked a circle around Harry once, then considered him for a moment,
"Okay, pull your shirt out and leave it untucked." After he did, she touched
her wand to his shirt. Instantly, Harry was engulfed with an invigorating
sensation. The material transformed from cotton to a more silky material, the
color white replaced with the same emerald color as his eyes. "Hmmm," Hermione
tapped her wand against her chin in concentration for a few moments, "Okay,
undo the top button. Flare the collar a little bit. Yeah, like that!" She then
waved her wand at his legs. His pants weren't too noticeably altered. They
simply flattered his figure just that much more. Pocketing her wand, she
approached Harry to ruffle up his already messy hair, "No use trying to tame
it." She said more to herself than to Harry, "It looks much better in its
natural chaotic state, anyway. There." She stepped back, gazing at Harry like
he was her masterpiece, "Perfect! Wow, Harry, you look. . . 'hot'." she
giggled. "I said don't laugh!" Harry remarked, although unable to suppress a
grin of his own. "I'm sorry," she shook her head a little, "I didn't know I'd
be so good at this! Thank you!" "No, thank you." he replied. "Let me put my
books away, then we can go get breakfast." "Okay." Harry nodded. He didn’t feel
particularly hungry. But, he was impatient to get out of the common room. Since
he was unsure of when or where Malfoy would approach him, he thought it best
not to seclude himself. A minimal amount of students occupied the Great Hall.
Breakfast wasn't even ready yet, it was so early. Harry and Hermione sat next
to one another at the almost empty Gryffindor table. The duo managed to keep
themselves entertained while they waited. Harry's good mood rubbed off on
Hermione. It had been such a long time since she saw him so happy. "Oh, come
on!" Harry nagged, "It would be so funny! Can't you just picture Snape in
billowing pink robes?" Hermione giggled, "I know! It would be hilarious, but
I'm not doing it!" "Please!" Harry laughed, "I'll give you. . . fifty
Galleons!" "No way!" Hermione shook her head, "You know that even if he doesn't
know who did it, he'll accuse us! And I know you don't want to spend this
entire week in detention." "Fun killer!" Harry teased. Hermione playfully
slapped his shoulder. The crowd started filling in right before breakfast
finally appeared. Harry's jaw practically hit the table when he saw Draco; the
Slytherin was so well dressed. Harry had never really paid attention to what he
wore aside from school robes before and felt regretful he hadn't. Draco's
attire was anything but Muggle fashion, and Harry found his aristocratic style
quite becoming on him. When they were about halfway through breakfast, the
morning post arrived. Owls swooped overhead with nothing for Harry. He hadn't
expected anything, granted. But, he couldn't help but notice the eagle owl that
landed next to Draco Malfoy. The blond took his letter. When he was finished
reading, he was scowling. He slipped the letter into his pocket and pounded a
fist against the Slytherin table. Rubbing his forehead for a moment, Draco then
briskly stood and stormed out of the Great Hall. Harry was quite curious as to
what that was all about. Well after everyone finished eating, Draco still
hadn't returned. Harry couldn't keep his eyes off the door to the Entrance
Hall, in hopes Draco would walk back through. "Let's go outside." Ron stood up
first, "It's too nice a day to spend inside." "I agree." Hermione stood up as
well. "But-" Harry started, then stopped, not wanting to explain why he wanted
to wait. "Harry, we'll still be out in the open if we're outside." Hermione
quietly explained, "It's not like we're going back to the common room." "Okay."
Harry sighed, reluctantly standing up. "Blimey, Harry!" Ron started laughing,
"Where did you get that outfit?" "Er-" Harry hesitated. Ron hadn't mentioned
his clothes all throughout breakfast, so Harry was rather surprised by his
redheaded friend's sudden outburst, "I ordered it." he quickly lied. "Why?"
Ron's laughing grew steadily louder; he had to prop his arm against the table
just to stay standing. His eyes couldn't seem to stray from Harry's green
shirt. "Because I don't want to wear Dudley's old clothes all the time!"
Harry's anger built up the more Ron laughed. He truly didn't understand why Ron
found this so amusing. "No offense, mate." Ron shook his head, "But, you look
like a queer!" "Er-" Harry's abdomen felt like it was suddenly penetrated by a
rusty dagger. "RONALD!" Ginny shouted simultaneously with Hermione's gasp.
Ginny had just approached, holding Dean's hand. "What?!" Ron turned toward
Ginny, "He does!" "FRILLY LACED, MOLDY, MAROON DRESS ROBES!" Ginny screamed.
Ron's face flushed, and he swallowed hard. He turned toward Harry, very
shamefully muttering, "Sorry, Harry." "Don't worry about it." Harry sighed. The
Gryffindors spent the morning on the grounds. Most of them either menaced the
giant squid or had friendly duels. Hermione occupied her free time with another
book, as usual. Harry's attention constantly jerked to the great oak front
doors. Plenty of students entered or exited, but Draco was never one of them.
At lunchtime, Dean, Seamus and Neville all left so they could go home for the
Easter Holidays. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny went back to the Great Hall.
When Draco didn't even show up for lunch, Harry grew apprehensive. He wondered
where the Slytherin had disappeared to and whether or not they were still going
to meet that day. By the end of dinner, the blond was still missing. And
Harry's pleasant mood was fully deflated. "Lets go back to the common room."
Ron said. They had already eaten plenty of additional helpings. They mostly
waited due to the fact Harry wasn't ready to leave. But, after doing nothing
for so long, Ron grew bored. "You guys can go. I'm staying here." Harry
muttered. He didn't want to force them to wait; he just didn't want to leave
himself, quite yet. "Why?" Ron lifted an eyebrow. "Because, I want to. Don't
worry about me." Harry grumbled. "Oh, c'mon." Ron said cheerfully, acute to
Harry's down disposition even though he didn't understand it, "We'll nick some
firewhiskey. It'll be fun." Harry angrily groaned, "Just because you like to
kill your brain cells, doesn't mean everyone else does. You fucking drunk." He
knew he was being unnecessarily mean to Ron. Ron didn't do anything, but his
persistence to try to make him leave annoyed Harry and that annoyance was just
adding to the pile of an already bad mood. "What the bloody hell has crawled up
your arse?!" Ron snarled, immediately standing up. His fists clenched, and his
lips tightened. "Excuse me?!" Harry stood up, just as hostilely as Ron had.
They neared each other to the point their noses almost touched, and their eyes
narrowed. Soon the boys were having rows with each other. Their faces grew red,
and their volume highly escalated. Hermione threw herself in between them,
desperately using herself as a human barricade. The walls of the Great Hall
rebounded every angry word, clearly and crisply-- not to mention, it was filled
with an over excessive amount of the word, 'fuck'. "What is going on?" Ginny
whispered, rushing over to the boys. She hadn't been sitting with them during
dinner, "I don't believe I've ever heard the f-word shouted more times in my
life!" "Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed with relief. It was like she was in the
middle of a losing battle and the winning reinforcements suddenly arrived. She
looked at her and asked as kindly as possible, "Would you please take Ron to
the common room?" "No!" Ron shouted, "I'm not leaving until he tells me what
his problem is!" "Ron, everybody is staring at us!" Hermione kept her angry
tone to a whisper. Sure enough, the students' eyes were glued to the quartet,
and Hermione's face was flushed pink in response. Many of the Slytherins
cackled wildly. "I don't give a-" "Weasely!" The group turned to see Professor
McGonagall, who looked more stern than usual. "Don't you dare use that word,
again! I cannot believe the filth I have just heard you boys screaming! That
kind of language- I've never- I- I'm speechless." "Then, please allow me,
Minerva." came a maliciously cold voice. From behind Professor McGonagall,
Snape approached the group looking simply delighted that he had another
opportunity to punish Harry and his friends, "If you two are unable to discuss
a personal disagreement in a civilized manner, without filling the entire hall
with garbage, then you may learn how by spending the rest of your Easter
Holidays in detention. Potter. You will report to my office every night this
week at five p.m. sharp, starting tomorrow." A small, triumphant grin curled
across his pale face. "Yes," Professor McGonagall nodded, "and you, Weasely,
will report to my office just as soon as this discussion is over. I must say. I
found your behavior tonight very appalling. You are sixth years. Think of the
example you are setting for our younger students. I am very disappointed. You
are almost adults-- I daresay, you are old enough to understand how immature
your display tonight was." Harry and Ron both nodded. Their heads bowed with
shame. "As for you, Miss Granger-" Snape started. "No!" Ron interrupted. "I beg
your pardon, Weasely?" Snape's black eyes viciously narrowed. "She didn't say
any of it!" Ron shouted, "She was the one trying to stop us!" "Mr. Weasely, I
implore you. Do not speak out of line to me, if you do not wish for additional
punishm-" "Severus, if you don't mind." Professor McGonagall gently lifted her
hand, "Miss Granger did not partake in shouting profanity across the Great
Hall. I say she shall not be punished." Snape's lips curled very curtly. He
glanced slightly in Hermione's direction, "Very well." he replied before
walking back to the staff table. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, Miss Weasely. I
please ask that you return to your dormitory immediately." Professor McGonagall
said, "Mr. Weasely, if you would please follow me to my office." Scowling at
Harry, Ron turned away and followed McGonagall out of the Great Hall. The Great
Hall was dead with silence. The students' eyes remained tightly locked on
Harry, Hermione and Ginny. "Let's go, Ginny." Hermione turned to her. Ginny
nodded, and they left. Harry followed a few paces behind. It wasn't the first
time he had to walk down the Great Hall with all the students' eyes boring into
him. Yet, he still hated the feeling just as much as he always had. "Hermione!"
Harry called when he was in the Entrance Hall. Hermione turned in his direction
with her eyes narrowed, "Oh, don't you try playing friendly with me, now!"
"What?!" Harry snapped. She nudged Ginny, whispering in her ear. The redhead
nodded and proceeded up the marble staircase. Hermione marched straight back
for Harry, her eyes narrowed in a lethal glare. "How dare you speak to Ron like
that!" She rounded on him with her face dangerously close to his. Harry hated
the fact that she was slightly taller than him. "Don't act like he's all
innocent!" Harry snarled. "I'm not! But, you started that completely
unprovoked. Ron was trying to be friendly! I know I said I'd support you and
Malfoy's relationship, but I'm not going to if you're going to be rude to your
friends every time you don't get your way!" Harry sighed, burying his face into
his hands. He let his arms fall limply to his sides with his gaze meeting the
tips of his shoes, "I'm sorry, Hermione. You're absolutely right." "Come on,
lets go to the common room." Hermione sighed, with an empathetic tone. She
stood next to him, rubbing his back lightly. "I'm not going to the common
room." Harry shook his head, "Just go without me." He knew that by waiting for
Draco at this point, he was just setting himself up for disappointment. But
even with this knowledge, he still just wanted to wait. "McGonagall said we
have to-" "I know, but I want to wait out here." Harry interrupted, muttering
through gritted teeth. "Harry." Hermione sighed with pity, "If Malfoy is even
still here-" "He is still here!" he snapped, "He told me he would be." Sure, he
didn't actually know how reliable Draco was with his word, but Harry wanted to
believe he could trust him. Hermione took a deep breath. It appeared that she
was mustering all her strength just to remain calm, "Look, sometimes Ron and I
have to contact the prefects of the other houses after hours. We use owls, and
they always get through--and quickly, even. So, Malfoy can contact you if you
go back-" "I don't care, Hermione! I just want to wait out here!" Harry
shouted. He didn't understand why she wouldn't just let him wait. "And what
will you do if he doesn't show?" Hermione's attempt to keep her cool was
broken, "Stay the night out here?" "Maybe." Harry crossed his arms, knowing
that he wouldn't actually do that. "You are being completely unreasonable!"
Hermione shouted. "I am not!" Harry defensively said. "See! This is exactly
what I mean when I say you're acting desperate!" Harry huffed and rolled his
eyes. "It's really quite pathetic." Hermione scowled. "Oh, fuck you." Harry's
attention focused on the door leading to the dungeons. Hermione's eyes widen,
and her jaw dropped, "You- I-" she stuttered, "Fine! Sleep in the Forbidden
Forest, for all I care!" and with that, she stormed off to the Gryffindor
common room. Harry's gaze remained at the door to the dungeons. His jaw
twitched as he stood in silence. The sound of a door opening caught Harry's
attention. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini were exiting the Great Hall and
heading toward the dungeons. Even though he didn't like them, Harry thought
they would be the people who were most likely to know Draco's whereabouts. He
ran up behind the pair, then cleared his throat and asked very politely,
"Excuse me?" The Slytherins stopped for a moment and glanced back. When they
realized it was Harry, they continued walking as if they couldn't hear him.
"Wait! Please!" Harry begged, following right behind them. Pansy Parkinson spun
around. Her eyes firmly narrowed, "What do you want, Potter?!" "Where's
Malfoy?" he asked. Parkinson rolled her eyes incredulously. Turning back
around, she and Zabini continued walking. Harry snatched a handful of material
from the shoulder of her shirt. Growing more impatient, he demanded, "Where is
he? Please tell me!" "Get your filthy hand off her!" Zabini snarled. He grabbed
the cuff of Harry's shirt and tossed it back with such gusto, it tore slightly,
"What's it to you, anyway?" He furrowed his brow. "We are- er-" Harry
hesitated, thinking of any excuse, "partners in Potions. We need to work on
homework together." "Really?" He raised an eyebrow. Harry immediately spotted
the flaw in his excuse, as Zabini was also in their class, "That's funny. I
thought he was Theodore Nott's partner?" "Well," Harry hesitated, again, "We
traded. So, please tell me!" "You know," A wicked smirk drew across Zabini's
face, "that outfit makes you look like a poof, Potter." Parkinson giggled into
her hand. The pair continued, ignoring Harry. The Gryffindor was already sick
of this game. He ran ahead of them and jumped in front of the door before they
reached it. Drawing his wand, Harry shouted, "Protego!" He wasn't actually
trying to block a spell, but rather doing everything in his power to prevent
them from walking away from him. Zabini growled in frustration. He drew his
wand, even knowing that throwing jinxes at Harry would be completely futile.
"Tell me where Malfoy is!" Harry demanded once more, "I'll let you pass and
never bother you again, I swear!" "My God, Potter." Zabini rolled his eyes, "He
went home for the holidays, Idiot." "No." Harry shook his head, "He was going
to stay here." "He was going to!" Parkinson snarled, "But, his mother wrote to
him this morning and said he had to come home! Now, leave us alone, you
stalker!" Harry sighed. So, that was what happened when Draco angrily left that
morning. The magical barrier disappeared with a wave of his wand. Harry started
walking toward the marble staircase when he was suddenly snagged. Looking back,
Harry saw that Pansy Parkinson clutched his arm. She lifted the cuff of his
shirt that had been ripped by Zabini. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the ID
bracelet. She looked up at Harry, her eyes wide with shock. Suddenly, she burst
into tears and went running down to the dungeons. Zabini appeared completely
caught off guard and quickly ran after her. The perfect week, instantly
destroyed in a matter of seconds, Harry growled lowly and clenched his fists.
Great! Just great!
***** Chapter 12 *****

Author's notes: .
===============================================================================
This chapter has been betaed by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
The days of the Easter Holidays passed only too slowly for Harry's liking. Of
course, he figured had he got to spend them with Malfoy, they'd fly by only too
fast.
The majority of the hours were taken up on his bed. He frequently laid there
dwelling on thoughts of desire and self-pity. Occasionally, Harry would call
for Kreacher and have him bring him barely enough food to live off of. But, the
only time he'd actually leave his bed was when he either had to use the
restroom or serve his detention with Snape. The former Death Eater would smugly
watch him write Just because my arrogant father's vocabulary was limited,
doesn't mean mine has to be. over and over again for many hours on end.
Ron and Hermione barely acknowledged his existence. He understood why they were
angry with him. What he didn't understand is why Draco didn't tell him that he
had to go home. He felt hurt by the lack of consideration. Then, he also
wondered why, exactly, Draco’s mother insisted he had to go home in the first
place.
On Wednesday, Harry found himself awake early and sitting at the foot of Ron's
bed. He was long since overdue for an apology. Not daring to wake up the
redhead, Harry waited patiently.
"Harry?" Ron sat up when he finally woke. Wiping his eyes with his fists, he
then looked at Harry curiously, "Why are you sitting on my bed?"
"Hi Ron," Harry sighed. His thumbs twiddled nervously, and his gaze remained
glued to the floor, "I know I was being a prat. I don't know what came over
me."
"Don't worry about it, mate." Ron stretched. He really didn't seem as upset as
Harry had expected him to be, "I get it; you're stressed. Every time you come
back from Dumbledore's office with more information on You-Know-Who, it gets
more. . . real, you know? When you first told us about the prophecy, I guess, I
just didn't take it that seriously. Like it was just a story, it wasn't real.
But lately, the more real it gets--it's even been stressing me out. I shouldn't
have been so hard on you."
"No." Harry's face fell into his hands, if only that was it. Hermione was right
when she said a relationship was the last thing he needed to be worried about.
Perhaps, he should just tell Ron the truth. But, would that just make him even
madder that he had been lying for so long?
"Look," Harry said, lifting his head toward Ron, "you don't have to apologize.
You didn't do anything wrong. I was out of line. I-"
"You don't have to explain yourself, Harry." Ron shook his head, "We're blokes.
We say rude things. We get over it just as quickly. Hermione, though. . ."
"How angry is she?" Harry reluctantly asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the
answer.
"She's been crying on and off for the past few days." Ron said with a grimace.
"Oh no." Harry's face fell back in his palms.
"'Said you said some pretty nasty things." Ron slid off the side of his bed and
opened his trunk.
"Yeah. . ." Harry shamefully admitted.
"I would've talked to you sooner, but she's been wanting my comfort and such.
Buck up, mate." Ron stood up and tossed some clothes on his bed. He patted
Harry on the back in a very friendly manner, "She'll come 'round. I'm sure if
you just apologize to her, say you'll make it up to her or somethin'. Why don't
you go do that? I'll meet you in the common room after I get dressed."
"Alright." Harry nodded, hoping that Hermione would be as forgiving as Ron.
Harry descended to the common room. Hermione was her usual self, secluding
herself with a book in her hands.
"Hermione?" Harry sat on a chair right next to her.
"I am not speaking to you, Harry." Her eyes didn't stray for even a moment from
her book.
"Please," he pleaded, "I really am sorry."
"Of course you're sorry, after the fact." Hermione casually turned a page,
putting particular emphasis in her tone on 'after the fact'.
"Ron forgave me." Harry hastily replied, regretting his choice of a statement
immediately.
"I don't care!" She snapped her book shut, "I'm not Ron!" She quickly stood up
and walked to the portrait hole.
"Wait, where are you going?" He quickly followed her.
"Never you mind!" She stomped into the corridors.
"Hermione, listen!" Harry shouted when he was outside of the common room.
"No, you listen!" She turned around and marched straight up to him, "I have
been covering for you! Lying for you! You're just ungrateful and selfish!"
"Excuse me?!" Harry's eyes opened wide, shocked at the accusation.
"You heard me!" Hermione snarled, "You have been really selfish lately! All you
care about is yourself! I'm sick of it! You're like a. . . Malfoy-clone!"
"That's out of line, Hermione!" Harry snapped back.
"No, it's not!" She shrieked, "You've certainly put him before us!"
"You were the one who stood up for him when-"
"Look at the big picture, Harry!" Hermione interrupted, using her arms to
physically depict the 'big picture', "You're so focused on little details, that
you don't see the grand scheme of things!" Hermione tutted and continued down
the corridor.
Harry sighed and shook his head, "Hermione, please," he followed her, "I need
someone to talk to, and you're-"
"Oh, so the truth comes out." Hermione muttered, coming to a halt.
"What?" Harry asked, completely oblivious to what she referred to.
"You're not actually sorry; you're just sorry that I'm not there to listen to
you cry about Malfoy. Oh, poor you. Malfoy left." She said with mock-pity,
"Well, you certainly weren't so caring for him for the past five years!"
"Just a few days ago, you said-"
"I know what I said, and now I think I was wrong!" Hermione turned back to face
him, "I've had a lot of time to think it over the past couple days. Malfoy is a
cruel boy! Look what he's turned you into!"
"Well, I guess the truth comes out on both sides, then!" Harry shouted.
"I guess so!" She shouted back, "If you want to cry to someone, why don't you
have a little honor, and tell Ron the truth!"
Hermione turned on her heel and marched away. Harry didn't bother following. He
really didn't know what he could do to resolve the issue. He wasn't just trying
to apologize to have someone to talk to. He felt genuinely remorseful for his
behavior. Walking back to the Gryffindor common room, Harry found Ron looking
particularly confused.
"There you are!" he exclaimed, "Where's Hermione?"
"I tried to apologize. She's still mad at me." Harry sighed.
"Ah, she'll come around, Harry." Ron threw an arm around his shoulder amicably.
"If you say so." Harry forced a smile.
His mind still lingered on the last comment Hermione made. Of all the things he
faced in the past, why was telling Ron the truth about Malfoy the only thing he
wasn't brave enough to do?
"After breakfast, we can go nick some brandy from the kitchens. Interested?"
Ron asked with a wry grin.
"Sure, why not?" Harry shrugged with a sigh.
                                     -----
"You are late, Potter." Snape sat at the front of the Defense Against the Dark
Arts classroom. Flickering torch brackets added minuscule light about the dimly
lit room. A single large desk sat in the center of the room, the others nowhere
to be found.
"Sorry." Harry grumbled, standing right next to the door. His eyes strayed to
the spot on the wall where Malfoy once thrust him, and they had a short-lived
snogging session. He shifted uncomfortably. Having an erection right in front
of Snape was the last thing he wanted.
"I didn't expect you to be on time, of course. You are such an exceptional
wizard, after all, that you don't need to be on time. Isn't that right?" Snape
stood with a twisted smile.
"Yeah, that's right." Harry rolled his eyes.
"Watch your lip, Potter." Snape slowly strolled over to him, "Do you have your
wand?"
"Yes." he mumbled, not making eye contact with the DADA teacher.
"Good. Give it to me." Snape ordered.
"What?" Harry's eyes opened wide, "No!"
"Give it to me now, Potter!" he demanded.
Harry groaned and reached into his pocket. Pulling out his wand, he handed it
to Snape.
"You will not be using magic for your punishment today. I don't want you to
even be tempted. When you are finished with your task, I will give you your
wand back." he explained.
"And when's that going to be?" Harry asked, knowing it would be foolish to
assume it would be quick work.
"When I feel that you have sufficiently learned just how foul, foul mouths are.
The lines, I have realized, are teaching you nothing." Snape paced, starring at
the walls rather than Harry, "But, I think this will teach even you to learn
some basic respect."
Snape spun around and marched over to the large desk in the center of the room
and turned back around to face Harry. He drew his own wand and waved it in the
air. A large object appeared on the desk out of thin air, a green satin sheet
draped over it, "Do you know what this is?" he asked.
"Green material?" Harry guessed with a smart-aleck tone.
"Very observant, Potter." Snape replied with dry sarcasm, "But, I meant do you
know what's underneath?"
"Obviously not, seeing as it's covered." Harry muttered.
With another wave of his wand, Snape lifted the satin sheet off the object.
Harry's face twisted with disgust at the very sight.
"Do you know what it is, now?" Snape asked, a wicked smile curling across his
face.
"A dead goat." Harry replied in a monotone.
"That is correct. It would seem your simple brain is capable of basic
comprehension, yet. I trust you know what a bezoar is? Even first years know-"
"Yes, I know what a bezoar is!" Harry snapped, his nose crinkled in disgust at
the sight of the goat corpse. His hand covered his mouth. He didn't know why,
but he had always assumed that bezoars were somehow extracted magically from
live goats.
"Do NOT interrupt me, Potter!" Snape hissed, "Professor Slughorn needed
assistance with obtaining potion ingredients. As I was the Potions Master, and
you are currently serving me detentions, the timing was only too perfect." He
walked around the desk and back to his seat at the front of the classroom.
"There are many more goats, and Horace asked for many bezoars." Snape
continued, "I think you know what to do. There may or may not be one in this
goat's stomach. You can check if you use the spell- Oh, that's right." Snape
grinned, "No magic. You'll just have to go in manually and hope one is there.
You didn't bring gloves, did you? Pity."
Harry approached the desk, his nose still crinkled. Any time he thought he
hated Snape more in his life, he was wrong. Now was the time that he hated
Snape more than ever.
                                     -----
It didn't matter how many times Harry cast Scourgify on his arms, the pungent
smell from the goats innards refused to dissipate. It must have been close to
midnight by the time Harry reached the common room. It was completely deserted.
Ron snored loudly as Harry entered the dark dormitory. Being careful not to
wake him, Harry quietly walked over to his four poster and sat down.
Harry reached into his pocket. He had taken off the bracelet that Malfoy gave
him before going through the line of work he had to do for Snape. After
clasping it on his wrist, he looked at it curiously.
Pansy Parkinson had been very upset to see that Harry had it. Did that mean she
recognized that Draco gave it to him? And even if so, it was engraved for him,
why would she recognize it in the first place?
Flopping onto his four poster, he set his glasses aside. Harry was so tired
that he didn't even feel like changing into his pajamas. With his eyes closed,
he could only hope that he would fall to sleep soon and not have to think about
goat corpses. Which, by the way, was so disturbing, he would never look at
goats the same again.
He shuddered. The soulless glaze over all the dead goats' eyes burned into his
mind, haunting him. The way the bones felt when he'd have to break their jaw,
the way their esophagus suctioned to his arm, not to mention the horrible
squishing sounds it made. Harry didn't know how many times he vomited. Snape,
of course, only snarled when he did so rather than helping him. He knew Snape
was angry and bitter over his childhood, but that entire experience seemed even
a little too cruel for him.
Harry thought of anything he could to try and block out the grotesque images of
the goats. Sirius, Grimmauld Place, The Burrow, The Three Broomsticks, Flying,
Quidditch, Ron, Hermione, dead goat. . . Ack! It wasn't working. Sirius,
Sirius' eyes, Draco Malfoy's eyes, Draco's pretty blond hair, Draco's fine
features, Draco's scent, Draco's flavor. . . Yes, these thoughts were nice. How
Harry hoped that when the Slytherin returned, they could just continue where
they left off before the Easter Holidays.
                                     -----
FLASH!
Details were hard to make out in the dim room, but he definitely could see
something. It appeared to be two figures, but where were they? What were they
doing? They looked like they were surrounded by bubbles. Perhaps, they were in
a giant tub. The image was too blurry to be sure.
FLASH!
This room was even darker. Once again, it was blurry; the details were hard to
see. Two figures, were they the same? Yes, these definitely were the same
people. But, where were they, now? It looked like there was a mirror. What are
they doing?
FLASH!
This area was darkest of all. But, the images weren't as blurry. Fine details
were still difficult to make out, but he definitely could see more than he
could with the previous images. The same figures were there. They were young
boys. One was blond; the other had black hair. The blond was holding an
illuminating wand. But, what were they doing?
FLASH!
Harry found himself in a room. It looked familiar. The green shone with silver
highlights. The room held fine furniture, portraits and a fireplace. In front
of him to the left, a dark woman stood with her arms crossed. On the right, a
light woman stood with her face in her hands. Directly in front of him, a boy
sat huddled over on his knees, gasping desperately for breath.
But, this room was not an image for Harry to behold. It felt like he was
physically there.
"You dare use Occlumency against Lord Voldemort?" Harry hissed. But, it wasn't
his own voice. This voice was cruel and high-pitched.
The boy looked up with a scowl across his face. His face was pale and his blond
hair a mess. Tears streaked down his cheeks.
"Draco!" The dark woman ran up to the boy in the middle, pulling him to his
feet, "Your hesitation dishonors the entire family! You tell the Dark Lord!
Tell him everything you know! Now!"
"Stand aside, Bellatrix!" Harry ordered the woman. She obliged immediately.
"Draco, your Occlumency skills are truly exceptional," Harry walked over to the
crestfallen boy. He slowly paced around him, quietly continuing, "especially
for a wizard so young." He lifted a thin, pale arm draped in heavy black robes.
He pointed his wand directly at the blond’s face, "But, they are not good
enough for me. Crucio!"
Draco's body twisted and contorted. The horrific cries breaking from his throat
mixed with the echoes of a woman's scream.
Harry woke suddenly, grunting in pain. He clutched a hand to his forehead. The
scar on his head burned white hot.
It could not be. It was impossible. Dumbledore had told him it wouldn't happen
before the beginning of the school year.
***** Chapter 13 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter has been betaed by QuixoticContradiction, to whom I am eternally
thankful. ^.^ EDIT: Now with PrettyPinkDepression's edits. :D
"Hermione! Hermione! Hermione! Hermione!" Harry called from the foot of the
stairs leading to the girls' dormitories. He knew trying to run up the stairs
would be pointless as it would turn into a slide, and he'd fall back down.
His hair drenched in sweat, he clutched his chest, gasping desperately for
breath. "Hermione!" he screamed, "Hermione! Hermione! HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"
"Harry!" Hermione's eyes narrowed. She stood in her pajamas, and her brown hair
was even more bushy than usual, "I was just woke up by two frightened first
years saying that you're screaming for me! You had better have a really good
excuse for-"
"It's Draco!" Harry cried.
"You screamed for me in the middle of the night about Malfoy?" Hermione
scowled, turning to walk back up the stairs, "Harry, I already told you. I'm
sick of your attitude! All you care about-"
"It's not that!" Harry fell to his knees, weeping, "You can be angry at me for
the rest of your life, if you must. I need your help. Voldemort has Draco! He's
torturing him!"
"Wait. . . What?" Hermione's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. Any lingering
irritation she had for Harry instantly diminished. She ran down the rest of the
stairs and kneeled next to Harry, "What are you talking about?"
"He's got him. He's torturing him for information or something; I don't know."
Tears soaked Harry's cheeks. His face fell into his hands, muffling a great
wail.
"But, how do you know?" Hermione gently rubbed his back.
"I-I saw it. I-It was just like those v-visions I'd have in my s-sleep last
year." Harry managed to let out in between sobs.
"That's impossible, Harry." Hermione explained in as kind of a tone as
possible, "Dumbledore told you at the beginning of the year that-"
"I know what he said!" Harry shouted, "But it happened anyway and I don't know
why. But, we have to save him!"
"Harry," she sighed, "What if this isn't real? It's kind of suspicious that you
go so long without these visions and all of the sudden you have one regarding
someone you care about."
"What if it is real?" he retaliated, "Am I just supposed to let him get
tortured and killed possibly because I go to bed under the assumption the
vision was false?"
"I really hate to bring this up, but-" Hermione nervously bit her bottom lip.
She took a deep breath, then continued, "But remember when you had a similar
vision about Sirius? Do you remember how that turned out?"
"Dammit, Hermione!" Harry stood up and pounded a fist against the wall, "I
know. Sirius ended up dying. I lost Sirius. I'm not losing Draco! How come
every time I want to protect someone I care about, you try to stop me? Or is it
just because it's Draco?"
"No!" Hermione stood up with her jaw dropped, "I know I said some terrible
things the other day. I don't wish anyone to be tortured by Voldemort, not even
Malfoy. I'm just saying you're being too impulsive!"
"Fine!" Harry screamed, "You don't have to help me. I'll save him myself!"
Harry stomped angrily toward the portrait hole.
"Harry!" Hermione ran after him and firmly snagged his arm, "Lets just think
about this sensibly for a moment before we rush into it. Okay, to start, where
were they?"
"I-" Harry swallowed hard, letting out another loud cry, "I don't know. I think
maybe they were in the Malfoys' home."
"And we don't even know where that is!" Hermione exclaimed.
"I don't care!" Harry growled, "I'll find it!"
"Harry. It would take us ages to search London, not to mention the entirety of
England!" Hermione desperately pressed, "Besides, you know how much security is
on the school now. The Floo Network at Hogwarts is blocked. You know we
couldn't fly out of here with all the enchantments. Everything is locked. We
couldn't get out of here, anyway!"
"FUCK!" Harry screamed. He dropped to his knees and slammed both his fists
against the floor. Harry felt completely helpless. He wanted to rescue Draco
more than anything, but had to regrettably come to terms with the fact that
Hermione was right.
"Look, Harry." Hermione kneeled down next to him, continuing to rub his back in
comfort as she had before, "We can't do anything, but maybe someone else can.
We could go to Professor Dumbledore's office and-"
"Dumbledore's not here, Hermione." Harry hopelessly muttered, "He hasn't been
here all week. You know that."
"Well, what about one of the other teachers?" she empathetically suggested,
"McGonagall or Snape or-"
"SNAPE!" he exclaimed, sitting up suddenly. Harry's chest swelled; all hope
wasn't lost. If there was one teacher in the school that could help Draco, it
was he, "He's Draco's godfather! I can't believe I'm saying this, but we have
to go find Snape!"
"Okay, yes, let’s find Professor Snape." Hermione smiled, helping Harry to his
feet. She looked overcome with relief that she and Harry could come to a
logical agreement.
                                     -----
Hermione and Harry snuck cautiously under the cover of the Invisibility Cloak
through the corridors. They wanted to find Snape, but not before Filch or
Peeves found them.
"Why the Defense Against the Dark Arts room?" Hermione whispered when they
neared the room, "Snape is head of Slytherin House. Wouldn't it be more logical
that his quarters were in the dungeons?"
"I don't know." Harry replied, "Draco told me when we were in this area that he
comes here to meet Snape frequently."
Harry and Hermione stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading to the
classroom. Pulling the cloak off of them, he looked around anxiously. There
weren't any doors around besides the DADA room. "SNAPE!" he shouted.
"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione urgently whispered.
"I- I don't know where his room is, just that he's around here somewhere."
Harry explained, suddenly feeling nervous by his lack of knowledge of Snape's
precise whereabouts, "SNAPE!" he bellowed, again.
"If you keep shouting, you're going to attract Filch!" Hermione angrily
whispered.
"Well, what else are we supposed to do?" Harry snarled,
"SNAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPEEEE!"
"Potter!"
The Gryffindors spun around. Snape looked as flustered as ever with his wand
aloft, the tip glowing, "Students out of bounds. I know that you believe you
are above the rules, Potter. But, to actually call for me, are you now simply
looking for additional detentions?"
"No, you don't understand." Harry pleaded. He ran up to Snape, his eyes
swimming with desperation, "It's Dra-"
"That will be fifty points from Gryffindor!" Snape hissed.
"But-" Harry tried explaining.
"I suggest you go to bed immediately before you get yourself into even more
trouble." Snape muttered in a monotone.
"But, sir!" Hermione quickly snapped. She ran right next to Harry, "Harry
needs-"
"Silence!" Snape's black eyes flared, "That will be an additional fifty points
for your unnecessary outburst. Now, go to-"
"PLEASE!" Harry begged, "Vol-"
"I have heard enough!" Snape snarled, "That will be another week of detention
for you-"
"GIVE ME DETENTION FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR, THEN! I DON'T CARE!" Harry
screamed, "VOLDEMORT HAS DRACO! HE'S TORTURING HIM!"
Snape's lips curled into a thin line. His eyes narrowed. He stood silent for a
moment before finally saying, "And since when have you concerned yourself with
Mr. Malfoy's welfare?"
"Does it really matter?" Harry asked, outraged, "I had one of those visions
again, just like last year."
"Professor Dumbledore has informed me that the Dark Lord is currently using
Occlumency against you. And, if I am not mistaken, you have been granted such
information, as well." Snape explained with an indifferent tone, "Therefore,
you must have just been experiencing a normal dream-"
"No! It wasn't just a dream. It was a vision. Draco is in trouble!" Harry's
patience increasingly wore thin, "They were in the Malfoys' house. Voldemort
was torturing him for information. He-"
"You do not speak the Dark Lord's name!" Snape hissed.
"Draco's your godson, isn't he?" Harry growled, "You're not going to let him
suffer just because you hate me since you hated my father and godfather, are
you?"
"I do not know how you've obtained such information. But, I do not suggest you
speak down to me, Potter. Go to bed, now!"
"But-" Harry snapped.
"Harry, lets just go to bed." Hermione whispered, clutching Harry's arm.
"No! Not until I know Snape is going to-"
"What I do is none of your concern." Snape threateningly interrupted, "I'd
advise you take Miss Granger's advice. If what you say is true, then this is
business of the Order of the Phoenix. And you are not an Order member."
Harry scowled at Snape and let Hermione lead him back down the corridors, "You
don't really think he's not going to do anything just to spite me, do you?"
Harry asked when they were a good distance away from the Defense Against the
Dark Arts room.
"Of course not." Hermione shook her head, "He wouldn't do anything to endanger
Malfoy, I'm sure of it."
"But, he was being so rude. He wasn't taking me seriously." Harry grumbled.
"Look, Snape’s grudge against you is really immature. I'll admit that."
Hermione calmly explained, "But, even if he's too proud to tell you, yes, I'm
sure he will make sure that Malfoy is okay. If I thought that he wasn't going
to help, then I wouldn't have insisted that we leave. He'll take care of it; I
promise. He did say it was Order business, after all."
"Yeah." Harry sighed. His gaze remained against the floor. The duo did not
speak as they walked back to the common room through the deathly silent
corridors.
"I'm so sorry, Harry." Hermione broke the silence when they were back in the
Gryffindor common room, "I said some really mean things."
"It's okay, Hermione." Harry spoke so low that he was barely audible, "I know I
deserved a lot of it. And I'm sorry too; I wasn't just apologizing to have-"
Hermione embraced him, tightly, "Don't worry about it, Harry,” she whispered.
Harry firmly hugged her back. With his face resting against her shoulder, he
heaved a deep breath.
"Are you going to be okay?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know." Harry whispered, "God, I'm so scared."
"You would feel it if he killed him, though; wouldn't you?" she asked, hoping
to reassure him, "In your scar?"
"Yes." Harry whispered. His scar wasn't even prickling now. That thought lifted
a huge weight out of Harry's stomach.
"See, then I'm sure Malfoy's fine." Hermione stepped back slightly with a smile
on her face that seemed forced, but kind, "I bet Snape is taking care of it
right now. We may not like him, but even you have to admit he's an
extraordinary wizard."
Harry nodded with a sigh. He certainly hoped that Snape was an extraordinary
wizard. If he saved Draco, Harry swore to himself that he'd take back anything
bad he ever said or thought about Snape.
                                     -----
Ron was absolutely ecstatic to see that Harry and Hermione were on speaking
terms the following day. But, Harry just couldn't join in his enthusiasm. He
was glad that Hermione wasn't angry with him anymore, sure. But, at the same
time, he still couldn't help but feel worried over Draco.
As Harry had now resumed eating with them in the Great Hall, he couldn't help
but notice the Slytherin table. Pansy Parkinson occasionally sent him loathsome
looks, but the rest of the house didn't act out of the ordinary. There were no
awkward stares, snickers, points or giggles. If Parkinson did know, then she
decided to keep it to herself. And for now, he found that mildly relieving.
When Harry went to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he was
surprised to find Snape telling him to get out. Although, Harry explained that
he still had to serve out his detentions, Snape insisted that he had told him
the night previously that he was done. Harry felt sure he had said no such
thing.
Utterly bewildered, he returned to the Gryffindor common room to explain.
Hermione pulled him aside. She suggested that perhaps it was Snape's
unconventional way of showing gratitude for Harry's tip off regarding his
godson's well being. Ron said he should just be thankful.
                                     -----
Harry’s breakfast plate remained full and untouched on Sunday morning. His eyes
remained locked on the open windows. As Harry expected, owls came swooping
through.
Hedwig stopped right in front of him, the Daily Prophet tied to her leg.
Untying it, Harry took notice to her pecking at his plate of food, “Be my
guest.” He said, watching her steal a sausage link before flying away.
Unfolding the Prophet, Harry’s eyes trailed vigilantly down the front page. His
eyes affixed with determination, he turned the page, scanning the next just as
intently as the first.
Three loud clanks sounded off the table, “Oi, Harry, Mum’s sent us all Easter
gifts!” Ron exclaimed.
“One second.” Harry replied, flipping the page.
“He’s been doing that all week.” Harry overheard Ron whispering, “What’s that
about?”
“Um. . .” He heard Hermione say, “No idea.”
Harry knew Hermione was fully aware of the truth. He had continually scanned
the Daily Prophet since the night he had the vision concerning Draco. Surely,
if he had been killed, it would be mentioned. He found the lack of Draco
Malfoy's name listed anywhere a huge relief.
Folding the Prophet, Harry set it down next to his package. He pulled it toward
him. When he pulled the ribbon off, the package’s top burst. A small firework
exploded, the flickering flames forming to shape, “Happy Eater!” Harry
certainly didn’t feel he needed caffeine to wake him up, anymore.
The package contained a variety of candy eggs and an assortment of pastries.
Harry sighed. As grateful as he felt for Mrs. Weasley’s generosity, Harry felt
anxious about the upcoming evening. The students that had left for the holidays
would be returning.
                                     -----
Ron's procrastination had caught up with him. He was so distracted with his
piles of homework that Harry thought he could sneak out without any
interrogation. He just forgot to factor in that Hermione was not distracted.
"Where do you think you're going?" Harry heard her call behind him when he had
just snuck into the corridors.
"The students are returning, right now." Harry explained, slipping his
invisibility cloak over his shoulders.
"Harry," Hermione sighed, "do you have to see him first thing? You don't think
that will come off as a little d-"
"Desperate?" Harry finished, turning around to face her, "Yes, but not for the
reason you're thinking. Look, I’m not going to approach him at all. I'm just
going to remain under the Invisibility Cloak. I just have to see that he’s
okay. You might not underst-"
"It's okay. You don't have to explain." The smile that drew across Hermione's
face seemed forced. Her eyes wavered with empathy, "I do understand. Will you
come back as soon as you see him?"
Harry nodded, then pulled the hood of the Invisibility Cloak over his head. He
turned and proceeded down the corridors until he was just outside the great oak
front doors.
A few of the thestral-drawn carriages were already unloading. They appeared to
be first years, none of whom Harry recognized.
He saw Dean, Seamus, Neville and Luna exit one. Hannah, Susan, Ernie and Justin
exited another. Parvati, Padma, Lavender and Mandy exited the third. He hadn't
noticed any Slytherins. Harry sat down on the steps; his fingers rhythmically
tapped the side of his knee.
More and more carriages filled the grounds. Hagrid led away the empty ones.
There was another carriage that caught his eye. It stopped toward the back of
lined up carriages. Harry didn't know why this one caught his eye but didn't
question it, nonetheless.
Harry saw a tall, skinny figure with dirty blonde hair step out first. He
lazily swung black robes over his shoulder that had a green inner lining. It
was Vaisey. Harry immediately jumped to his feet. Two thicker figures emerged,
Crabbe and Goyle. The Gryffindor bit his bottom lip in anticipation. The last
figure stepped out of the carriage. Harry could make out his platinum blond
hair. It was Draco Malfoy.
Harry sighed with relief. He felt so happy to see Draco alive and well. He just
wanted to throw his invisibility cloak aside and run up to the blond and kiss
him. But, Harry suppressed his impulsive desire. He felt confident that Draco
wouldn't be too thrilled to display their affection in front of his friends.
Not to mention, he intended on keeping his word to Hermione.
Harry found sleep that night much easier to come by now that he wasn't worrying
about Draco. But, he did find himself curious about the vision he had a few
nights ago. He had been so sure it was a vision and definitely not just a
dream. But, if Draco was okay, did that mean the image was fake? Or, perhaps,
was Snape able to intervene in time? The last thing Harry thought before he
fell to sleep was that he would ask Draco about it tomorrow.
***** Chapter 14 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter was beta'd by PrettyPinkDepression and QuixoticContradiction, to
whom I am eternally thankful. :D
*****
Moonlight cascaded across the top of the Forbidden Forest. A thin fog cloaked
the top of the trees, giving the forest an ominous ghost-like appearance. He
could see the entire grounds from a small window in his office that overlooked
the terrain. His black eyes stared into the distance, implying his mindset to
be miles away from there.
A light knock on the door broke the stark silence. "Come in," Snape said dully.
He turned around to see the top of a blond head; his clothing appeared slightly
loose on him. Snape furrowed his brow, "I told you over the Holidays to report
to my office the moment you arrived, did I not? I have been waiting nearly four
hours."
"It's not my fault, okay?" Draco raised his head with a frown. He closed the
door behind him.
"Sit," Snape ordered, walking over to his desk.
With a sigh, Draco walked over to the desk, sitting down opposite Snape. Snape
remained standing next to his own chair.
"What you did over the holidays was very foolish," Snape said. He began pacing
behind his desk. "Using Occlumency against me is one thing. But, to actually
attempt it on the Dark Lord. . ."
"I didn't!" Draco snarled.
"Yes, you did!" Snape hissed, coming to a halt. He faced Draco; leaning forward
slightly and resting his palms against the desk. "Do not lie to me. You could
have been killed. I assure you, had I not arrived in time, you and your family
would be dead. You are very lucky the Dark Lord holds me among his highest
rankings."
"You already gave me this lecture, Severus." Draco scowled.
"I am a teacher to your pupil. Until you are of age, you will address me as
such," Snape said. Draco merely rolled his eyes. "The situation is more severe
than you realize. Potter saw."
"Potter saw what?" Draco shook his head slightly and lifted his shoulders for a
moment. "What does he have to do with this?"
"Everything!" Snape shouted, standing back up so he could resume his pacing.
"Potter saw the Dark Lord torturing you. Did you think it was merely
coincidence that I appeared at the Manor just in time to convince the Dark Lord
to spare you?"
"But, how could he-" Draco stopped. His eyes intently latched to the floor as
if he were in deep thought. "Does that mean he knows about the. . ."
"No," Snape said, stopping and sitting on his chair. He turned it to face
Draco. "Luckily, he appeared oblivious to that fact. But, the more pressing
issue is that he could see into the Dark Lord's mind. I didn't believe it when
he told me. I didn't want to. But, I learned as soon as I arrived at the Manor
that he truly did."
"He can see into the Dark Lord's mind?" Draco looked up at Snape, his grey eyes
blinking in confusion. "But- . . . But, how?"
"Very few are privy to the knowledge that his and the Dark Lord's minds are
linked," Snape explained. "I should not be telling you this, but I must for
your family's safety."
"Does the Dark Lord know that he saw it?" Draco asked, lightly biting onto his
bottom lip.
"He does not," Snape said. "I kept this information hidden as it could put you
in great jeopardy. That Dark Lord is, however, aware that his and Potter's
minds are linked. He has been using Occlumency against Potter for quite some
time, which leads me to my point.
“No one, not one wizard--no matter how great--should be able to break through
Occlumency used by the Dark Lord. There are only two reasons that Potter could
have possibly broken through: The first would be if the Dark Lord let his guard
down. But, I assure you, that is not the case. The second," Snape fell silent
for a moment, "is if Potter had a powerful attachment. . . to you."
"What?!" Draco's eyes widened, "That's absurd. . ."
"Is it?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes and standing back up, "This is the
reason I requested you come here. What exactly have you been doing for him to
have such an emotional attachment to you?"
"I did exactly as I was told!" Draco snarled, abruptly standing.
"You were ordered not to use magic-"
"And I didn't!" Draco shouted, "I got what he wanted. Why does it matter?"
"It matters because I suspect that the feeling is mutual!" Snape roared.
"That's. . . that's mad. You're mad." Draco replied meekly.
"Am I?" Snape hissed. "Tell me exactly what you did."
"No," Draco said, looking at the window. "I'm sick of this. I didn't want to do
this. This is all my Auntie Bella's fault!"
"Yes, you're Auntie Bella is so desperate to restore your families' honor, she
doesn't mind risking her own nephews’ life along the way. . ." Snape smirked.
"Oh, what a delight it must be to be related to her. Don't get me wrong, Draco.
I found her self-desire and immediate willingness to volunteer you over the
Christmas holidays quite appalling and irrational, but what the Dark Lord says
is law. If he were to find out about your feelings-"
"I don't have any feelings for Potter!" Draco screamed. "I hate him!"
"I used to believe that." Snape said, "If you truly do not care for him then
you will tell me exactly what you did."
Draco dropped his face into his hands. He spoke quietly, his voice slightly
muffled against his hands, but Snape could still hear what he said: "I'm not
telling you. It's done. That's all that matters. . ."
Snape drew his wand, briskly walking around the desk. He pointed his wand at
Draco, who looked up right as Snape said, "Legilimens!"
FLASH!
At first, all he could see was pure darkness. A light dimly throbbed, revealing
two boys for a fraction of a second.
FLASH!
Draco clutched his chest, gasping for breath.
"It is difficult to use Occlumency when you're overcome with emotion, Draco,"
Snape said in a monotone. "That is why it is recommended that you clear your
mind every night. Surely, your Auntie told you that. . ."
"Fuck you!" Draco snarled. He harshly kicked the chair over and stormed to the
door, aggressively wiping away the single tear running down his cheek.
Snape glowered, waving his wand at the door. The lock sounded right as Draco
grabbed the knob. Marching over to him, Snape grabbed Draco's collar and
forcefully pulled him around to face him, "You are to never speak to me like
that!" he snarled, speckles of saliva shooting from his mouth.
He kept his hand tightly gripped on Draco's collar. Thrusting him back, Snape
hostilely pinned Draco against the door. He pointed the wand at his face,
"Legilimens."
FLASH!
Once again, he could only see pure darkness. Another light throbbed, revealing
more than it had previously. He saw Draco wrap his hands around the base of
Harry's head. Draco leaned toward him with his eyes closed before the image
faded to pure darkness.
FLASH!
Snape let go of Draco, letting the blond fall to the floor like a giant loose
heap. He stood with his mouth hanging open in complete silence for a few
moments before he finally spoke. "That is what you did?! Such a remedial task,
and that is what you did? I doubt the Dark Lord told you to do that."
Draco's head slumped. He aggressively grabbed onto blond chunks of hair on the
top of his head, "I didn't know what to do! It was the only thing I could think
of!"
"I very well hope you are going to end this," Snape hissed.
"I am!" Draco shouted. "I only did it because I had to, not because I wanted
to!"
Snape reached down and grabbed the shoulder of Draco's shirt, lifting his arm
and forcing him to stand. "I hope, for your sake, that you are not lying. Do
you know what the Dark Lord would do if he found out? He would torture Potter
right in front of you, forcing you to watch. He would make you torture Potter
and watch himself, just for means of entertainment."
"I don't care!" Draco scowled. "I'd do that, anyway!"
"And what about you and your family?" Snape asked, "What if the Dark Lord
decided to use you as bait to get Potter? Do you think he would actually spare
you after he defeated him?"
"I know. I have thought about this," Draco's lips curled and his gaze sharply
turned back to the window. "I'm going to end it."
"Good," Snape said, finally releasing Draco from the death-grip he had on his
collar. "Now, what about your other mission, the one regarding Dumbledore?"
Draco's jaw twitched, and he crossed his arms.
"You haven't been working on it, have you?" Snape sighed impatiently.
"I tried," Draco muttered. "It's hard working on two things at once."
"Well, I manage to work on multiple things at once all the time. Tasks that are
much more advanced, I might add," Snape said. "You're almost an adult, Draco.
It's time you start acting like it."
"I can continue tomorrow!" Draco shouted, dropping his arms and reverting his
attention back to Snape. "I have a plan! It will work! I don't need your help!"
"I certainly hope so, for your sake," Snape said. "I don't think I can convince
the Dark Lord to spare your life twice."
                                     -----
His skin peach, his eyes glowing, his hair vibrant and his overall hygiene well
taken care of, Harry looked fine the next morning. To any onlooker, he appeared
just as normal as ever. Yet, Harry felt his external appearance did not
accurately reflect his true emotions. He thought if everyone saw him the way he
saw himself, he might look something like Voldemort.
Candles weren't something commonly seen in the Great Hall during breakfast, but
the enchanted ceiling revealed a mass of dark cloud cover overhead. The
illusionary raindrops made Harry shudder. The inside of the Great Hall felt
warm, but the outside rainstorm seemed to give him phantom chills.
Harry sat next to Hermione, Ron opposite her. His green eyes continuously shot
to the door to the Entrance Hall. He didn't bother trying to keep up with their
conversation, as he couldn't particularly focus on it.
The buzz of many inaudible conversations filled the Great Hall. The overall air
seemed like a pleasant one. Yet, Harry still couldn't bring himself to join in.
He knew he should be happy. Draco was back. He was alive. Harry couldn't quite
figure out what bothered him.
Harry watched as the doors of the hall pushed open. A group of Slytherins
entered. His eyes lingered on them intensely. Draco walked within the mass, but
Harry could hardly make him out.
He sat with the back of his head facing Harry. Lightly biting onto his bottom
lip, Harry idly pushed his food with his fork.
Harry hardly ate all throughout breakfast. Draco didn't make the slightest
attempt at looking back at him. When the trio left to their first lesson, Harry
couldn't help but feel worse than he had before breakfast.
The day passed slowly. Harry tried to seclude himself when he could but found
such opportunities rare.
Anytime he spotted Draco in the corridors, Harry tried to snag a glimpse. Yet,
it always appeared that Draco was either standing to the side of someone or had
his face turned away. Harry almost suspected that he kept doing that on
purpose.
Harry looked forward to Potions class as he shared it with Draco. He, Hermione
and Ron took the table they normally shared, joined by Ernie Macmillan.
When the Slytherins entered, Harry glanced over at Draco. His face looked
thinner, and his eyes almost seemed slightly sunken in.
Harry had noticed Draco had looked unhealthy during Slughorn’s Christmas party,
but also noticed that during their time together, Draco regained his normal
luster. Now, he looked worse than ever.
"There we are, there we are," Professor Slughorn said in a singsong voice,
prancing to the front of the classroom. He turned to face the class, holding
his hands behind his back and gently rocked on his feet. "I expect you have all
completed your essays over the holidays?" The class murmured solemnly followed
by the sounds of opening bags and ruffles of parchment. "Ah! Very good, very
good," Slughorn beamed.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. With a flick of his wrist,
all the students' homework shot to him, to which he caught them all very
neatly.
"Books out, everyone," He said, turning around and walking over to the chalk
board. "If you'll all turn to page 639. . ." He waved his wand at the chalk,
and it lifted in the air. Professor Slughorn turned back around to face the
class. With every word he spoke, the chalk copied, writing onto the board with
its own accord.
But Harry didn't listen to Professor Slughorn. His attention drew to the faint
sound of whispering he heard in the distance. Turning his head ever so slightly
and glancing mostly out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Blaise Zabini
whispering in Draco's ear. Draco shook his head and let it drop with a sigh.
Zabini then looked over at Harry for a mere second with a wink.
Harry's eyes widened, his attention suddenly drawing to his book. He imagined
Zabini must have been saying something about Harry's confrontation during the
Easter Holidays, but he couldn't be sure. Whatever it was, Harry had a strong
impression that it couldn't have been good.
                                     -----
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Lightening struck outside the window, the loud boom causing Harry to suddenly
jump. He sat alone in his dormitory. The majority of the Gryffindors pleasantly
enjoyed their returns in the common room. Harry had taken advantage of the
situation by sneaking out unnoticed.
The evening had Harry feeling just as down as he did during the day, dinnertime
being the most peculiar. Draco hadn't even shown up.
Harry bit onto his bottom lip, his wide eyes anxiously scanning over the map,
his nose a few inches from touching it. He couldn't find Draco's name anywhere.
The longer he searched, the lower his eyebrows fell. When they completely
furrowed, they suddenly sprung back up. Harry spotted Crabbe and Goyle's names
on the map.
Harry's eyes latched intently to the map. The rain smacking against the window
created the only sounds throughout the hollow dormitory. Crabbe and Goyle stood
in the corridors of the seventh floor. They weren't moving, and much to Harry's
dismay, Draco wasn't with them. This wasn't the first time Harry saw the two of
them standing like this, but Harry hadn't seen them do this in a long time.
Pursing his lips curiously for a moment, Harry then continued his search. He
couldn't find Draco on the map anywhere. After a while, Harry sighed, "Mischief
managed."
Folding the map and stuffing it into his robes' pocket, Harry fell loosely onto
his bed. He brought his hands under his head and stared at the overhead
hangings, his eyebrows still furrowed. He couldn't help but feel there was more
going on than he realized.
The following week passed with the same feel as Monday. Draco treated Harry
with the same disregard. He kept skipping dinner. With each passing day, Harry
found himself growing angrier.
When late for dinner one time, Harry found himself alone in the corridors. He
saw a blond head come around the opposite corner, heading toward him.
Harry's eyes widened, and a smile drew across his face. He ran up to him,
opening his mouth to call his name but stopped before a single sound escaped
his throat. Draco briskly marched past him without so much as a glance.
Harry stood shocked, then felt surprised to see two females he didn't recognize
come from the same corner. They scrambled to keep up with him.
By the time Friday came, Harry had had enough. He wanted to know why exactly
Draco left without telling him. He wanted to know what happened during the
holidays, and most of all, he wanted to know why he was avoiding him.
His eyes remained glued to the Slytherin table during lunch, completely
ignoring the ongoing conversations among the Gryffindors. Pansy Parkinson sat
right next to Draco, batting her eyelashes and beaming at him. Harry wasn't
sure what to make of that. He watched as Draco turned toward her; he appeared
to be enjoying her company.
Harry's jaw twitched. Draco leaned over and whispered something in Parkinson's
ear; she giggled with her hand covering her mouth. She rested her head on
Draco's shoulder, looking over at Harry for a moment with a smirk across her
face. Draco glanced down at her then wrapped his arm around her.
Harry stood so abruptly, he stumbled and made the surrounding dishes on the
table clank. Clutching the side of the table, Harry stabilized himself before
he could trip over the bench.
"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, his eyes curiously wide.
"I'm fine," Harry muttered through gritted teeth.
"Harry. . ." Hermione whispered. Her eyebrows rising with pity, her eyes
anxiously darted from him to the Slytherin table.
Harry clenched his fists, walking down the aisle. His jaw ached from clenching
his teeth together so hard. He didn't care anymore. He didn't care who knew or
what they would think. He didn't even care if he made Draco mad.
Storming across the hall, Harry didn't pay the many stares and curious whispers
any mind. He had one goal on his mind, and he could care less about possibly
embarrassing himself or Draco in front of the entire school.
He stormed up the Slytherin aisle. When he neared Draco, he aggressively curled
his hand around the shoulder of his robes.
"What the hell, Potter?!" Draco snarled, widely swaying his arm to get Harry's
hand off of him and inadvertently letting go of Pansy Parkinson.
"We need to talk, Malfoy!" Harry snarled, his eyes narrowed.
"What is this all about, Draco?" Blaise Zabini asked. A grin drew across his
face, and he casually lifted his arms, resting his hands against the back of
his head. Parkinson sharply looked up at Harry with a glower.
"Nothing!" Draco answered way too fast. He swallowed hard, "I don't know what
he's talking about. He's mad!"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Malfoy," Harry muttered. "Now we can
talk about this by ourselves, or I'll keep talking about everything in front of
all your friends."
"Oh, do tell, Potter," Zabini said, his eyes widening with curiosity. Leaning
forward, he rested his forearms against the table and clasped his hands
together, "We don't mind. Honestly."
"Shut up, Blaise!" Draco shouted. He turned and stood up. His eyes narrowed,
and his lips tightened. He aggressively grabbed Harry's arm and led him out to
the empty Entrance Hall.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he angrily whispered after the door
to the Great Hall shut behind him. His eyebrows furiously furrowed, "Now my
friends aren't going to leave me alone!"
"I don't care!" Harry scowled, "You won't talk to me, so I had to."
"What do you want?" Draco folded his arms across his chest.
"You left for the Easter Holidays when you said you'd stay!"
"I didn't have a choice!"
"Why didn't you at least tell me?" Harry asked, holding his arms out, "Why have
you been avoiding me this whole week? And why, for the love of God, are you
wrapping your arm around that- that- that slut!?"
Draco's eyes sprung open wide. He curiously blinked a few times before
answering, "That's your fault, Potter. She noticed that bracelet."
"How the hell does she know you gave it to me?" Harry asked outraged.
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. With a sigh, he closed his
eyes and brought his fingers to his forehead. He shook his head, then said
calmly, "Now is not the time to talk about this. . ." He looked up at Harry
with a friendly smile, "How about this? We can meet tonight in the Room of
Requirement, after dinner."
Harry blinked, "Okay. . ." he said, unsure what to make of Draco's sudden
change of tone.
Draco reached forward, lightly grabbing Harry's hand into his own, "In the
meantime, could you please leave my friends alone? You have no idea the kind of
interrogation I got when I returned from the Easter Holidays. . ."
"Sorry," Harry smiled sheepishly. He could feel his cheeks burn lightly.
Draco let go of his hand, turning around and walking back into the Great Hall.
Harry's smile faded. For some reason, he just couldn't bring himself to feel as
happy as he thought he should.
***** Chapter 15 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter was beta'd by PrettyPinkDepression and QuixoticContradiction, to
whom I am eternally thankful. :D
*****
The fire burned brightly in the Gryffindor common room's fireplace. Harry sat
in a chair directly in front of it. He leaned forward, his elbows resting
against his knees and his hands clasped together. The dancing flames reflected
in his glasses, creating an illusion that his green eyes were glowing.
He closed his eyes with a sigh. So many things ran through his mind. Draco had
held his hand for a moment. But Harry just felt that whatever they were going
to meet about in the Room of Requirement was going to be bad. If he still cared
for Harry, then why was he avoiding him this entire week? Why did he put his
arm around Pansy Parkinson, when before he kept ignoring her?
But the biggest thing that bothered him was the vision he had of Draco being
tortured. Voldemort wanted information on something. What would Draco know that
he wanted? Then Harry dwelled on his original suspicions of being a Death
Eater. But Harry checked Draco's arm. He didn't have a Dark Mark. He didn't
imagine it was something you could hide either, or surely, Snape or Karkaroff
would have a couple years ago. . . wouldn't they have? None of it added up.
The creaking sound of the Fat Lady's portrait opening brought Harry back from
his mental wanderings. Harry stood up and turned around to see Hermione, her
eyes swollen and red.
"Did Ron come in here?" she asked, sniffling slightly.
"No," Harry said, walking over to her. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"He got so mad when he saw you leave with Malfoy. . ." Hermione sighed.
"What? Why?" Harry asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"He just stood up and started yelling at me. Then, when Malfoy came back in and
you didn't, he ran off," she explained.
Harry's stomach twisted into a tight knot. "What did he say?"
"I don't know. He was so belligerent." Hermione sniffled again, wiping a tear
from her cheek. Harry pulled out his wand. Holding his palm out flat, he waved
his wand at his hand, and a handkerchief appeared there out of thin air. He
handed it to Hermione, who continued, "Thanks. He said something about me and
you and Malfoy and secrets. . . Then, he called me a bunch of terrible names."
"Like what?" Harry's eyes widened.
"I'm not repeating them," Hermione whispered, dabbing the bottom of her eyes
with the handkerchief. "Let's just say they were very derogatory toward women."
Harry grimaced, "I'm sorry, Hermione. This is my fault."
"No, Harry, I don't care how mad he was. He had no right saying the things he
said," she said.
Harry took a deep breath. "Tonight, I'm meeting Draco in the Room of
Requirement. Afterward, I'm telling Ron the truth."
"You don't have to, Harry. He-"
"No, Hermione," Harry interrupted. "I do have to. It's been too long as it is."
Hermione smiled, placing the handkerchief in her robes pocket. "So, you're
meeting in the Room of Requirement? Does that mean that you're, uh. . ."
"I don't know what it means," Harry sighed. "I have no idea what's going on.
These past couple of weeks have been extremely confusing."
Hermione's face flickered a half-smile. She turned so she stood next to Harry,
both of them facing the portrait hole. She gently placed her hand on his
shoulder. "We'll get all of this sorted tonight. Whatever happens with you and
Malfoy, I'll be here for you. We can sort things with Ron, then. We have too
much to deal with and worry about to be stressed over our wayward boyfriends."
Harry grinned.
"Let's go," Hermione said. "Class will be starting soon."
                                     -----
Harry took his time walking to the seventh floor. His Invisibility Cloak thrown
over him, he stared aimlessly ahead. He kept telling himself he should feel
excited for another chance to be alone with Draco. But, he couldn't bring
himself to feel that way.
Ron had completely disappeared. He didn't show up for the second half of
lessons and was nowhere to be found during lunch. Hermione and Harry asked
around but nobody knew where Ron had gone. Harry hoped he'd return to
Gryffindor Tower tonight. He really just wanted to get this whole thing off his
chest. He'd rather Ron be mad about his and Draco's relationship then keep
causing drama because he knew something was up.
Harry came to a stop. He realized while in his worried daze, he had completely
walked past the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Turning back around, Harry
walked to the blank spot on the wall that concealed the Room of Requirement.
Harry sighed. Placing his hands on the stone, he leaned forward slightly and
rested his head against the wall. He closed his eyes. A voice echoed through
his head, telling him not to go in, that he should just go back.
Opening his eyes, Harry stepped back. He stared intently at the wall, biting
onto his bottom lip. He realized that even if Draco had news that he didn't
want to hear, he had to face him, nonetheless.
Harry paced in front of the hidden room, slowly. His gaze lingered on the
floor. I need a room that Draco and I can meet in alone. I need a room that
Draco and I can meet in alone.
Harry stopped, blinking a few times. He turned toward the wall to see that a
door had materialized. Stepping toward it, Harry extended a hand and gripped
the doorknob. He hesitated.
Gently shutting his eyes, Harry took a long, deep breath. He opened his eyes
and lifted his head up high. Slowly turning the handle, he pulled open the
door.
Harry stepped inside, letting the door shut behind him. His eyes curiously
scanned across the room, which was quite small. The walls were black, bare of
any sort of decor. A plain table sat in the middle, a chair on either side.
Four red candles hung in midair, a few feet above the corners of the table.
They provided enough light for Harry to see that Draco stood, leaning against
the back wall, with his arms crossed.
"Sit if you want," Draco said casually, his eyes lingering on the wall to the
left.
Harry silently approached the table. Pulling the chair closest to him out, he
took a seat. Harry's eyes remained locked on Draco, who did not return the
gaze. Swallowing hard, Harry asked, "What's going on?"
Harry closed his eyes. He expected Draco to tell him that they couldn't be
together because Voldemort found out and tortured him, and that it was all
Harry's fault. He expected him to tell him their relationship was over because
he lost interest in him. He even expected him to possibly say their
relationship was over because he realized he did care about Pansy Parkinson.
What he didn't expect to see when he opened his eyes was Draco smirking.
Draco shook his head. He looked back at the wall he had been staring at and
said, "I used you, Potter."
"Wha-" Harry blinked. He furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of what Draco
just said. "What do you mean, Draco?"
"Draco?" He looked to Harry, one of his eyebrows curiously arched. "Since when
do you call me that?"
"Since the night we-" Harry stopped. He could feel his cheeks flush slightly.
"Never mind. What are you talking about?"
"I've thought about this all evening, Potter," Draco sighed, dropping his head
then lifting it. He still kept his eye contact away from Harry. "I thought if I
avoided you long enough, you might give up and leave me alone. I thought up a
million excuses that I could give you. But, I realized you are an obsessive
person, and the only way I could truly get rid of you was to tell you the
truth, and I don't care about the repercussions, anymore."
"Get rid of me?" Harry repeated meekly. His throat instantly dried, and his
heart felt like it contracted sharply. Although, a part of him expected Draco
to express disinterest in Harry, it still hurt to hear.
"Yes, to get rid of you," Draco said with a scoff. His eyes continued to linger
on an area of the left wall. "I used you. I got the information I needed, so I
don't need you, anymore. You were a tool to me and nothing more, now go."
Harry's eyes opened wide. They locked intensely to the center of the table. He
felt his face drain of any color. But he couldn't react; he couldn't say
anything. A thousand questions ran through his head all at once, and he
couldn't pick a single one to ask. He simply sat there, breathing slowly. His
lungs felt like they had weights attached to them, every breath he took a
strenuous struggle of labor.
"Didn't you hear me, Potter?" Draco snarled. He finally directed his attention
to Harry with his eyes narrowed. He walked over to the table, opposite Harry,
resting his hands on the edge. "I said I used you. I never cared for you. We're
through, so get out of here."
"You're lying," Harry growled, looking up at Draco.
"Lying?" Draco tutted and turned away. "Why would I lie about that?"
"To protect me," Harry said.
Draco threw his head back and laughed derisively. He turned back around to face
Harry. "Yes, I'm trying to protect you; because, you know how much I sacrifice
what I want to help others." He shook his head with his gaze at the ceiling.
Looking back at Harry, Draco said with a more serious tone. "Spare yourself a
prolonged heartache and get this delusion out of your head that I'm a good
person."
"I don't believe you," Harry muttered.
"Fine. Don't," Draco said casually, leaning back against the wall. He crossed
his arms but kept one hand up so he could avert his gaze to his nails. "I
really don't care, just as long as you leave me alone."
"What did you use me for then?" Harry asked, his tone growing more hostile.
"The Dark Lord needed to know if there was even the slightest flaw in the blood
bond that protected you while you were at home," Draco dropped his hand and
looked up at Harry with a sneer. "That little confession you gave to me a
couple weeks ago about it ending when you turned seventeen or could no longer
call the place home--Let's just say the Dark Lord was delighted to hear that
information."
It was Harry's turn to laugh. "That's your excuse? You expect me to believe you
put on this whole charade of liking me just so you could get that piece of
information? Voldemort-" Draco gasped.
"Aw, what's wrong? You work for him, and you still flinch when you hear his
name?" Harry stood up and rolled his eyes incredulously. "As I was going to
say, Voldemort could've got that information from anyone. He didn't need you
to-"
"No, he couldn't have," Draco interrupted. "From what I was told, only you and
Dumbledore know. Not even the Order of the Phoenix know--Oh yes, Potter, I know
what the Order of the Phoenix is--The point is, did you actually expect I could
trick Dumbledore into telling me?"
"You could have used Veritaserum-"
"First of all, contrary to popular belief, Veritaserum isn't foolproof. Second,
you would've gone running to Dumbledore-"
"-or used the Imperius Curse!"
"-Oh yeah, Potter, because Dumbledore wouldn't have noticed that."
"Then, why tell me the truth now?!" Harry screamed, pounding his fists against
the tabletops. "Do you think I'm not going to tell Dumbledore?!"
"I already told you, I don't care about the repercussions anymore," Draco
snarled. "Right now, I think being expelled would be a huge relief."
"Good because you're going to be!" Harry shouted, his entire body trembling
fervently.
"Good!" Draco screamed back.
Harry marched around the table, walking straight up to Draco. The blond's eyes
widened, and he stepped back. "What are you doing?"
"You're lying, Malfoy," Harry muttered, stopping a few inches in front of him
and narrowing his eyes.
"I already told you," Draco scoffed. "The Dark Lord-"
"No, not about that," Harry interrupted. "Maybe that is why you started this.
But, then it backfired, didn't it? You had feelings for me, and you didn't want
to admit to yourself. But, as time went on, you couldn't deny it."
"Y-You're mad!" Draco stuttered.
"What did you see in the Mirror of Erised?" Harry asked, inching closer to
Draco. "If you don't care for me, then you can tell me the truth."
Draco's eyes widened, and he swallowed hard.
"It was me, wasn't it?" Harry asked with a smirk. "What was I doing? Was I
holding your hand?"
"It was my grandfather, you idiot!" Draco shouted. "He's dead! I don't like
talking about it!" He turned away from Harry and walked to the door. Harry ran
after him and grabbed his wrist.
"Get off me!" Draco snarled, jerking his arm away.
"Then, how come you made love to me that night?" Harry asked, running in front
of Draco and blocking the door. "You could've just made me leave after I told
you, but you didn't. You made love to me."
Draco threw his head back with laughter. He stopped and looked at the ground
with a smirk. "Made love to you? I fucked you in the arse! I don't care; I
wasn't the one taking it like the little poof you are."
Harry narrowed his eyes. His heart pounded intensely against his chest. He
couldn't believe what he was hearing. "And the whole next day? You didn't have
to hold my hand; you didn't have to look at me, but you did."
"I must admit, Potter, holding such power over you did amuse me," Draco's eyes
idly lifted to the ceiling.
Harry's mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. He felt
desperate to find any excuse to prove Draco was just making up the entire
thing. "Then, what about this?" Harry lifted his left wrist. The sleeve loosely
dropped revealing the ID bracelet that Draco had given him.
"That piece of tripe?" Draco shrugged indifferently. He started walking back
around the table. "I got Pansy one just like it the year previously. It didn't
break my bank. Funny thing is, she was ready to fuck me too when I gave her
hers." He stopped at the back wall, leaning back against it and crossing his
arms. "Father always said girls become whores for shiny objects," he casually
said with a smirk.
His gut contracted; his lips curled; his fists clenched so hard he could feel
his nails break the skin of his palms. He stormed around the table and straight
up to Draco.
Draco lifted his arms, as if trying to defend himself, and barely managed to
say, "What are you-"
"Shut up!" Harry ordered, grabbing Draco's hands and pinning them on either
side. Harry pressed his body against the blond. "You can't even look at me when
you're saying this. Look me in the eye, and tell me you don't care about me."
Draco swallowed hard and looked down at Harry. Harry could see his bottom lip
tremble slightly.
Harry smirked, "That's what I thought." Draco looked away, and Harry noticed
the tiniest tear gleam in the corner of his eye. "Are you going to cry, Malfoy?
Is lying to me really upsetting you that much? I'd imagine so."
Narrowing his eyes, Draco looked back down at Harry. "I hate you," he
whispered, wriggling his hands free then shoving Harry off of him.
Harry stumbled back a couple feet, reaching back and grabbing onto the table to
stabilize himself. Walking back up to Draco, Harry stopped when the blond
screamed, "Don't touch me!"
"Admit it, Malfoy!" Harry shouted.
"I'm crying because you have your filthy hands on me!" Draco screamed with his
fists and eyes clenched shut. He opened his eyes with a scowl still across his
face. "Everything I had to do. . . I disgusted myself. You disgust me. You're
disgusting!"
Harry stood silent for several moments. His bottom lip trembled, and then he
let his face fall into his hands.
"Do you finally get it, Potter?" he heard Draco say. "I used you, nothing more,
nothing less."
"I loved you. . ." Harry whispered into his hands.
"Aw, why don't you go cry about it to your Mudblood?" Draco said with mock-
pity.
Harry's arms dropped and instantly stiffened. Looking up at Malfoy, Harry's
eyes narrowed viciously, and tears streamed down his cheeks. "Don't you talk
that way about my friends. Say what you want about me, but leave them out of
this," he muttered.
Malfoy smirked, walking over to the table and leaning against the edge. "Like I
care, Potter. Your friends are a bunch of Mudbloods and blood traitors, and
they're all pathetic."
Harry growled, his teeth bared. He threw his arms in front of him and ran
toward Malfoy. Closing his hands around the blond's throat, Harry slammed into
him so hard that the table couldn't support their weight and crashed to the
floor under them. His grip tightening, Harry buried his nails into Malfoy's
skin.
The Slytherin gagged and reached up, grabbing onto Harry's shoulders. He used
all his strength to throw Harry off of him and push himself to his hands and
knees, gasping for breath.
Harry skidded into the back wall with a loud thud. Furiously, he reached into
his robes' pocket, desperate to grab his wand. When he finally got hold of it,
he pulled it out and pointed it at Malfoy, who already had his own wand pointed
at Harry. The brunette had barely shouted, "Stu-" when he saw a red light, and
everything went black.
                                     -----
Harry stood in his empty dormitory. A cool night breeze flew in from the open
window, making Harry's robes flare elegantly. He didn't want to talk to anybody
tonight. He had brushed off Hermione immediately and didn't really notice or
care if Ron was in the common room.
When he woke up in the Room of Requirement, he felt fine. The back of his head
wasn't sore of anything. He hadn't been expecting it but didn't question it
either. He just made his way back to the Gryffindor common room, ready to spend
the rest of the night in his dormitory.
Lifting his hand, Harry pulled back his sleeve, revealing the bracelet Malfoy
had given him. Harry unclasped it and held it in his other hand. Extending his
arm out the window, he remained still; the mild whistle from the air flowing
through the window produced the only sound.
With a sigh, Harry closed his eyes. Open your hand. Drop it. Let it go.
His arm trembled, and with each passing second, it grew heavier. He wanted to
let his arm fall to his side, but his determination made him keep it in place.
His lips curling and his eyes opening, Harry fought hard to simply open his
hand and watch the bracelet drop. Such a simple task yet he couldn't bring
himself to do it.
With a low growl, Harry brought his arm back inside, banging the window shut.
He stormed over to his trunk and pulled it open. A harsh grunt escaped his
throat as he threw the bracelet inside. Clasping the top of the trunk, Harry
slammed it back down.
He took a long breath and let his body slump over the trunk. He turned his head
to the side, with his arms sprawled limply. If only I'd listened to Hermione. .
. If only I hadn't been so stupid. . . If only I hadn't been so selfish. . .
Harry turned to rest his forehead against his trunk, cradling his arms around
his head. He knew he couldn't stay like this forever and that he had to have
contact with other beings at some point. But, tonight just didn't feel like the
night. He gently closed his eyes. This is all my fault.
***** Chapter 16 *****

Author's notes: After returning home from Christmas during his 6th year,
Harry's obsession with Draco never ceases. Although, he ends up finding more
than he bargained for.
This takes place during HBP. It mostly follows the book's canon but not fully.
===============================================================================
This chapter has been beta'd by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
*****
Harry stood up and pulled off his robes, letting them drop unceremoniously to
the floor. He loosened his tie slightly, fanning his face with his hand. The
burning fireplace didn’t help as the warm air from the night already heated the
dry common room enough.
Sitting back down, his eyes locked to his parchment, his hand dully writing and
his attention occasionally shifting to his book. This was what he did; went
through the motions of a school day, attend class, do his homework, go to bed.
Nothing more, nothing less. This was all he was expected to do at school, so
why do anything more?
He caught Hermione glancing up at him occasionally from the corner of his eye;
he knew she wouldn’t say anything. Not that she hadn’t tried, she pulled him
aside on plenty of occasions trying to get him to speak about what happened,
what was going on. But Harry still hadn’t found himself ready to talk about it.
Joyous laughs sounded from the corner of the room. Harry glanced over to see
Ron sitting with Seamus and Dean. Knowing he still needed to talk to Ron, Harry
shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Ron hadn’t acknowledged his and Hermione’s
existence more than the occasional glare. Yet with the actions that had taken
place in the Room of Requirement, Harry didn’t know what to tell him. He only
imagined Ron would have something nasty to say about it.
Hermione set down her quill and sighed. “Harry. . .”
“Hermione,” Harry replied, his tone almost threatening and his eyes remaining
glued to his parchment.
“I’m not going to ask you about. . . that,” she said. “Actually, I was hoping
you could help me. I’m writing an essay on the Patronus Charm, and since you
we’re able to produce one much sooner than I could, I thought, perhaps, you’d
have more insight about the personal form of a True Patronus.”
Furrowing his eyebrows, Harry slammed his quill down, grabbing onto the sides
of his head. First Dumbledore, then Malfoy, now her?
“Dammit! Is that all I’m good for?” screamed Harry, standing abruptly and
kicking the leg of the table. “Does nobody care about me until they need
something from me?”
Hermione’s eyes widened, her body rigid. “Harry, I didn’t mean-“
“Yes, you did!” he shouted. “Because that’s all I am to everybody, just an
object to be used, not respected like a person!”
“Harry, calm down!” she shouted back, quickly standing.
“No! Don’t tell me what to do!” In his moment of frustration, Harry grabbed his
bottle of ink and threw it at the wall. Smashing into a portrait, the people in
it jumped to their neighbors’.
”Well, I’d never!”
“Has he gone completely mad?”
“And I thought he was such a nice boy.”
His shoulders stiff, fists clenching, jaw locking, Harry’s chest heaved great
breaths. With the exceptions of the portraits’ murmurs, the room fell dead
quiet. Harry could practically feel all the students’ eyes boring into the back
of his head.
“Harry! What the bloody hell’s gotten into you?” He turned around to see Ron
marching straight for him.
Drawing his wand, he pointed it directly at Ron, and he stopped dead in his
tracks.
“Just stay away from me!” Harry shouted, suddenly shocked to find himself flat
on his face with ropes pinning his arms to his side.
Harry jerked his head back to see Hermione holding out her own wand. Pocketing
it, she grabbed Harry’s feet and dragged him across the floor.
“Ron, have everybody go to their dormitory.”
“Oi! Let me go!” Harry snarled.
Ron followed after her. “No. I want to know what’s going on with him. He’s been
acting all funny.”
“I’ll take care of Harry, you just get everyone to bed,” said Hermione,
completely ignoring Harry’s protests.
“No!” he replied, his eyebrows furrowed. “How about I take care of him, and you
put everyone to bed?”
“RONALD, JUST DO IT!” she bellowed, roughly dragging Harry out of the portrait
hole. Ron scowled and quickly turned around.
“Untie me now, Hermione!” he demanded when the portrait of the Fat Lady closed.
She looked down at them, her eyebrows lifting to her hairline.
“Ah- S-Sorry,” Hermione nervously said to her, continuing to drag Harry down
the corridor, not stopping until she was sure no ears could hear them, real,
painted or otherwise.
“I am not untying you until you settle down,” Hermione sharply explained. “You
were being really hostile in there. I don’t care what Malfoy said to you; that
is not an excuse for you to get violent in the common room.”
Harry growled, straining against the binds, not taking in a single word
Hermione spoke. “Lemme go! Lemme go!”
“Harry,” she sighed, flipping him onto his back and gently placing her hands on
his cheeks. “Please, calm down. Just listen-“
“Get your hands off me, you filthy Mudblood!”
SMACK!
Harry’s jaw dropped. Hermione had just slapped him. He couldn’t believe it. His
cheek throbbed as he suddenly realized what he had just said. Tears burst from
the corners of his eyes. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, Hermione. . .”
Hermione stood up, a harsh frown across her face. She waved her wand at Harry,
freeing him from the ropes. “As tempted as I am now to leave you tied up in the
corridors for the rest of the night, I’m more mature than that.”
Sitting up, Harry buried his face into his hands, bringing his knees to his
chest. Had he really just said that? Did he really just call Hermione a. . .
“Harry,” Hermione breathed, sitting down next to him. “I’m sorry I slapped
you.”
“Don’t be,” he muttered into his hands. “I deserved it. You’re right. I’m just
like a little Malfoy-clone.”
“No, you’re not,” Hermione said. “I’m going to forgive you, but I had better
never hear that word come out of your mouth again.”
Harry finally lifted his head, but his eyes still sunk with shame. “You’re too
kind to me, Hermione. You have been through this whole ordeal with me and
Malfoy, and that’s all it was--an ordeal.”
“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Did
Malfoy. . . Did he. . . break up with you?”
“If only,” Harry sighed, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “He used me,
Hermione. He needed information, and he got it. That’s all. He didn’t care for
me.”
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders. They sat in
silence for several moments before she asked, “What kind of information?”
Harry shook his head. “According to what he said, Voldemort now knows the blood
bond that protects me during the summer breaks when I’m seventeen.”
“And that’s it?” asked Hermione, blinking. Harry nodded. She continued,
“Doesn’t that seem a little extreme for just that? I mean, really. Voldemort
could’ve got that from anybody. Actually, I find it surprising that he didn’t
already know.”
“That’s what I thought,” Harry sighed. “But I guess not. I don’t know. . .” His
forehead crashed back down into his knees. “I’m such an idiot.”
“No, you’re not,” Hermione said gently, firming her embrace. “When I saw him
with you by the Slytherin common room, I really thought he was genuine.”
“Well he wasn’t. And I just. . . I don’t even want to think about him right
now.”
“Okay,” Hermione sighed, letting go of Harry and pushing herself to her feet.
She extended a hand to help Harry up. “But one thing, Harry, you have to tell
Dumbledore.”
Harry shook his bowed head. “I’m not telling Dumbledore.”
“Harry, you have to,” she persisted as delicately as possible. “If Voldemort
knows this information, the Order needs to know, too. So they can protect you.”
His eyes glued to the floor, Harry’s cheeks flushed. “I can’t tell Dumbledore,
Hermione. I can’t tell Dumbledore about. . . you know.”
“Harry,” Hermione breathed, biting her bottom lip for a moment. “I seriously
doubt is completely oblivious to all the things the students do here.”
Harry’s cheeks burned more. The idea of Dumbledore knowing what happened shot
an unbearable twist in his abdomen.
Shaking her head, Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm.
“Let’s go back to the common room.”
Harry nodded, following alongside Hermione. She whispered the password to the
Fat Lady, who eyed them suspiciously. The empty common room contained no sound
aside from their footsteps. Harry looked around, taking notice to the pristine
environment. A flash of red caught his eye and suddenly. . . WHAM!
Harry hit the floor, clutching his aching nose. Eyes opening, he looked around
to see nothing but a crimson blur as his glasses fell off his head.
“Ron!” Hermione shouted, quickly kneeling next to Harry. “Oh, my. Are you all
right? Ron, how could you?!”
“How could you?!” he screamed back. “Having an affair behind my back!”
Harry figured the news about him and Malfoy would upset Ron but not quite to
this extent. He felt Hermione shove his glasses into his hands. Throwing them
back on his head, he looked up to see Ron completely rigid, rubbing his right
fist, knuckles baring traces of blood.
With Hermione’s assistance, Harry pushed himself back to his feet. He licked
his upper lip, which tasted distinctly of blood. “Ron. I’m sorry. I should’ve
told you.”
“Damn right, you should’ve,” Ron snarled. “Foolin’ around with my girlfriend!”
“I. . ." he hesitated. "Wait. What?” Harry blinked, looking over to Hermione
who looked equally as confused.
“Don’t play dumb! I know what you two’ve been doin’! Think I didn’t notice you
two sneaking out and acting all weird around each other and not telling me
what’s going on? Well, I noticed! And Malfoy found out, didn’t he? So you had
to bribe him to keep him quiet. That’s why you’ve been acting all funny around
him!”
Harry’s eyes widened, fully understanding what Ron thought. The three stood in
silence for several moments. Despite everything that had happened, despite his
throbbing and possibly broken nose, Harry could not stop himself from laughing.
Hermione, apparently coming to the same realization, couldn’t contain a chuckle
of her own.
Ron’s eyes narrowed viciously. “You think this is funny?”
“I haven’t been having an affair with Hermione,” Harry managed to say in
between laughs. “I’ve been having an affair with Malfoy.”
Blinking a few times, Ron’s jaw twitched. His lips curled, remaining quiet for
several moments before he finally said, “Oh yeah. That’s likely. You actually
expect me to believe that?”
“It’s true,” Harry sighed, letting his head fall. His laughter died when his
thoughts came crashing back to reality. “But it was all a lie.” He reached up
to pinch the bridge of his nose and gasped, pulling his hand back, the faintest
brush of fingers sharpening the pain.
“Ron, it’s true,” Hermione repeated. “Besides, when Harry snuck out, I was
usually with you. How do you explain that?”
“Well, I-“ Ron started, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, you’d go out
with him for a little bit! And you’d never let me come with you!”
“That’s because I didn’t want you to know,” Harry replied. “Don’t be mad at
Hermione. It’s my fault.”
“Do you actually expect me to believe you were screwin’ around with Malfoy?”
Ron crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, incredulously.
“Why would I lie about that, Ron?” said Harry.
“Because you don’t want to admit you’ve been having an affair with my
girlfriend!”
“I haven’t been!”
“Prove it!”
“You want proof?” Harry asked, albeit redundant. “Go up to our dormitory. Open
my trunk, and you’ll find a set of Slytherin robes.”
Ron blinked. “You’re just trying to get rid of me again.”
“I’ll go with you!” Harry shouted.
Ron’s lips curled, and he stood still, staring intently at Harry as if he were
trying to find another excuse to say that Harry was lying.
“Okay, fine.”
“Ron, are you going to get angry if I heal Harry’s nose first?” Hermione asked,
a hint of irritation apparent in her voice.
Ron glared at Harry, then his eyes shifted to Hermione, eying her with
suspicion as if he would get angry if she healed Harry’s nose.
“No,” he muttered.
Pulling out her wand, Hermione waved it at Harry’s face. Relief immediately
washed over his nose, and the blood trickling into his mouth disappeared. After
thanking her, he walked up to the dormitory, Ron following right behind him.
Harry groaned quietly, disappointed to see the other members of his dormitory
wide-awake. He really did not want to display the Slytherin robes right in
front of them, but at the same time, he wanted to end Ron’s nonsense theory
that there had ever been anything more than just friendship between him and
Hermione.
“All right, Harry?” Neville asked, nervously fumbling with the hem of his
sleeve.
“Spectacular,” Harry replied dully, walking straight over to his trunk and
pulling it open. The dormitory fell quiet as Harry shifted through his robes,
as if they were frightened that asking Harry any more questions might make him
erupt.
Standing when he found Malfoy’s robes, Harry turned and thrust them into Ron’s
hands. “There. Is that proof enough for you? Or do I need to borrow
Dumbledore’s Pensieve?”
Ron’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened, unable to stray from the robes that
sat before him.
“Why do you have Slytherin robes?” Seamus asked, and Harry could feel his
cheeks burn.
“It’s none of your business!” Ron shouted, grabbing Harry’s elbow. “Go to bed,
the lot of you!” he dragged Harry out of the dormitory, the door slamming to
block out the following scoffs of their dorm-mates. Neither of them said a word
as they trekked down the stairs.
Hermione stood from her seat the second they arrived, twiddling a lock of hair
around her finger nervously.
“So, how long have you. . . ?” Ron started, and then stopped. “Are you still. .
. ?”
“No,” Harry said, taking the robes from Ron’s hands. He marched straight over
to the fireplace, tossing the robes in without a moment’s hesitation.
Hermione rushed over to him. “Harry! That could start a fire!” She waved her
wand at the fireplace, forcing the upsurge of smoke to stay within it rather
than filling the common room, as it would have otherwise.
The mass of flames reflected off of Harry’s glasses, tears forming in the
corner of his eyes.
“So, did you guys. . . ?” Harry could hear Ron struggling to put together a
complete sentence. “What happened?”
Lifting his hand, Harry wiped his eyes before the tears could fall down his
cheeks. Heaving a deep sigh, Harry recounted everything that had happened
between him and Malfoy, from the first meeting in the prefects’ bathroom to the
last meeting in the Room of Requirement. He skimmed over some of the more
intimate details, as he was sure they didn’t want to hear it as much as he
didn’t want to tell it.
“So you actually shagged Malfoy?” Ron asked when Harry finished. Harry turned
around to see him crinkling his nose.
“Yes, Ron,” Harry replied. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said quickly, apparently realizing the immaturity of a
choice of question. “I understand that I probably wouldn’t have been so quick
to accept Malfoy as your boyfriend. But one thing that bothers me. . . Did you
think I wouldn’t want to be your friend because you’re gay? Did you actually
think I’d judge you on that?”
“I’m not gay,” Harry replied, to which both Ron and Hermione lifted an eyebrow.
“Well, look, it’s just, I didn’t think about it like that. It was that I was
attracted to Malfoy, gender irrelevant. But, I didn’t think you’d be biased. I
just didn’t know. We hadn’t ever talked about that before.”
“Okay,” Ron said. “Well, my family doesn’t judge because of someone’s blood
purity or if they’re gay or straight. But, if you don’t mind me askin’, what in
the world could you have possibly seen in Malfoy, of all people?”
“I don’t know,” Harry sighed, turning back to the fireplace. “I guess it all
started when I noticed that his eyes looked like Sirius’.”
“You never told me that!” Hermione shouted, abruptly standing and marching over
to Harry.
Harry blinked. “Does it matter?”
“Oh Harry, you missed Sirius so much that you wanted anyone that reminded you
of him!” Hermione explained, her eyebrows rising with pity. “You just needed
more support from us. If I had only known, if you’d only told me, I could have
prevented this whole thing!”
“It wasn’t just that, Hermione,” Harry interjected. “I mean. That’s what
started it, but then. . . I don’t know; I guess I just finally felt alive when
I was with him. Ever since Voldemort’s-” Ron flinched, “return, everything has
been such an emotional ride and mostly for the worse. But Malfoy could somehow
make me forget about that. I can’t explain it, but I really cared for him. And
I thought he felt the same, but he didn’t. Every time I find something great,
it’s ripped away.”
Hermione leaned forward and hugged him, not having to say anything. The gesture
said it all. Harry heard a slight scuffle and looked up to see Ron storming to
the portrait hole.
“Where are you going?” Harry asked.
Ron stopped, looking back at him. “I’m going to kill Malfoy!”
“Ron!” Hermione shouted.
“Not literally kill him,” Ron scowled. “But, do. . . something.”
Harry shook his head. “Ron, you don’t have to do anything.”
“Yes, I do!” Ron snarled. “We’ve dealt with his mean remarks for years, but he
has gone too far!”
“You can’t just go bursting into his dormitory,” Hermione broke her embrace
from Harry and walked over to Ron. “Look. I know what he did was beyond cruel
and-“
“You don’t understand, Hermione,” Ron interrupted her. “When I thought you were
you cheating on me that was the worst feeling in the world. It literally felt
like my heart had been stabbed, and that’s how Harry’s feeling! That prat, that
git, that prick did that to my best friend, and you just expect me to sit
here?!”
“Ron,” Harry said calmly, the twist in his stomach and the stitch in his chest
finally relaxing. “You’re a good friend. You’re a really good friend, and I
shouldn’t have ever kept that secret from you. You don’t need to go beat him up
or anything. The fact that you want to makes me realize just how good a friend
you are. And for the first time in days, I don’t feel alone, anymore.”
With a sigh, Ron gave in, walking over to Harry, Hermione by his side, holding
his hand. She placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder.
“You really do need to tell Dumbledore.”
“I’m not telling Dumbledore,” Harry said quickly, staring at the floor.
“Sorry to disagree with you, mate, but she’s right,” Ron said, almost
reluctantly.
“The Order needs to know,” Hermione explained. “Look. You don’t have to tell
Dumbledore the details if you’re too embarrassed. He just needs to know that
Voldemort--honestly, Ron--now knows about the protection breaking.”
With a sigh, Harry said, “Yeah.” He knew it had to be done.
***** Chapter 17 *****
This chapter has been beta'd by QuixoticContradiction and PrettyPinkDepression,
to whom I am eternally thankful. ^.^
*****
A magnificent door stood before Harry. He slowly lifted his hand to knock on
the door but was surprised to hear a soft voice say, “Come in,” before his
knuckles ever made contact.
Blinking, Harry pushed the door open, taking his time excessively. There
clearly was no reason for him to be so careful about his movements. Faint
snores filled the office around Harry, but he knew better than to assume the
portraits of previous headmasters were actually sleeping. In fact, Harry found
the idea of them actually listening in more unnerving than he originally felt
approaching the office.
“Please sit down, Harry,” Dumbledore smiled with his hands together, sitting
behind his desk, a twinkle in his brilliant blue eyes.
Harry sat down in a chair opposite him, his eyes straying from the headmaster,
suddenly unable to look him in the eye. He nervously bit his bottom lip and
fumbled his fingertips over the end of the armrest. Staring at his knees, Harry
internally screamed at himself to say something, but his mouth refused to open.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, especially one so late?”
Dumbledore asked.
Harry glanced up at the man for a moment, then back down to his desk. Closing
his eyes, he took a deep breath. Just tell him the truth, get to the point. You
can skip over the details.
Harry opened his eyes and said quickly, “Voldemort knows the blood bond
protection breaks when I’m seventeen.” He looked at the headmaster, feeling his
cheeks burning slightly.
“Ah, yes,” Dumbledore replied, a simple smile still across his face. Harry
lifted an eyebrow slightly; Dumbledore didn’t sound remotely surprised,
concerned or upset. “I commend you on your courage to tell me, Harry. For a
moment, I almost thought you wouldn’t. Silly of me.”
Harry blinked, not expecting that answer and unsure what to make of it. “So . .
. You already knew?”
“I frequently know what’s happening in my school,” Dumbledore replied, casually
leaning in his chair, looking up at the portraits on the wall. “More than I
admit, more than I’d like others to know . . . Hogwarts is not an ideal place
to keep secrets.”
Harry glanced at the portraits for a moment before looking down to his feet.
Did that mean Dumbledore knew exactly what he and Malfoy did? Or did he just
know Voldemort knew?
“Don’t blame yourself for young Mr. Malfoy’s actions, Harry,” said Dumbledore.
“I too had hoped his true feelings would influence his decisions for the best.”
“True feelings?” Harry scoffed.
Dumbledore sighed. “I’m afraid if I elaborate, I’ll only bring you more
heartache.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “What would you know about heartache?” he grumbled.
“More than you could possibly know, more than I’d wish on anybody,” Dumbledore
said solemnly. Although he still smiled, that twinkle commonly seen in his eye
faded, replaced by a sadness that Harry found daunting yet curious. He didn’t
voice his questions though, assuming Dumbledore would have explained on his own
accord if he felt the need.
“Did you know Malfoy . . . ? Did you see us . . . ?”
“What you and Mr. Malfoy do behind closed doors is not mine, nor anyone else’s
business,” Dumbledore answered, apparently aware of what Harry was too shy to
properly ask. “In other words, no, but I would advise being more cautious than
you have when you consider a conversation private. As I said, Hogwarts is no
place keep secrets. There are many ears people do not account for.”
Harry’s body relaxed, and he breathed a huge sigh. Knowing Dumbledore had only
heard conversations and didn’t see his and Malfoy’s more intimate moments was
immensely relieving. Yet, Harry considered he needed to use the Muffliato spell
a little more than he already had.
Although Harry no longer found himself embarrassed, his throat dried, the
sadness slipping back into his chest. “It’s my fault. I should’ve known. I
mean, it’s Malfoy.”
“Love can blind even the greatest of wizards, Harry,” Dumbledore breathed,
leaving Harry to find that sadness behind his wise eyes even more curious. “But
if there is anyone in this school who is burdened as much as you, it is Mr.
Malfoy. You may find it difficult, but you might consider taking pity on him.”
Harry snorted. “Are you serious? Me take pity on him? I’ll be glad when he’s
expelled.”
“Mr. Malfoy will not be expelled, Harry,” said Dumbledore.
“What?! Why?!” Harry clenched the ends on the armrests, furrowing his brow. He
didn’t understand. Malfoy had given information to Voldemort. Even if he wasn’t
technically a Death Eater, he was on his way. Harry thought Dumbledore would
have kicked him out the second he found out.
As always when Harry behaved hostilely, Dumbledore sat calmly, with a small
grin. “Doing so will only complicate situations rather than helping.”
“Complicate what?!” Harry shouted, standing abruptly from his seat. “Why can’t
you just tell me what’s going on, instead of talking in circles?!”
“Harry, I understand your frustration,” said Dumbledore, not appearing to even
struggle to keep his calm. “But first, I must ask you take a little more
control of your emotions. I daresay; your anger has already caused you to call
a dear friend a terrible name earlier tonight. I assume you do not want to make
the same mistake twice.”
Harry swallowed hard, his cheeks tinged with red. “Sorry,” he muttered, sitting
back down.
“No need for apologies. Emotions have a tendency to get the best of us,”
Dumbledore said, honestly not appearing offended. “To my original point, I know
my methods may come off unconventional, but I trust you to trust me. As of now,
such information would be a burden and serve no productive purpose. As you
currently hold more troubles than any student in this school could possibly
understand, I would find it only cruel to give you more.”
Harry nodded in understanding, but he still felt disappointed. He hoped a time
could come when he’d be past all this, a day when he could fully understand
rather than all the trial and error games.
“I assure you, a time will come where you do understand,” he continued. “Not
just Mr. Malfoy or what we’ve discussed tonight but a great many things. Only
then do I hope you can understand my reasons for keeping them from you.”
Closing his eyes, Harry nodded silently. He knew trying to force the issue
would only cause more frustration. Overall, it appeared Dumbledore always
steered him in the right direction, so he felt it best to go ahead and trust
him again.
“Is there anything else you would like to discuss?” Dumbledore finished.
Harry sat silently for a moment. He considered asking more about how Dumbledore
knew and of Snape’s involvement, but he didn’t. The whirs and pops from the
objects on the side table sent gentle echoes off the walls. “Aren’t you mad at
me?”
Dumbledore’s eyebrows lifted, the grin still across his face. “Whatever for, my
dear boy?”
“Because . . .” Harry bit his bottom lip, his attention running everywhere
around the office but the headmaster. Once again, he chose to ask vaguely,
realizing he didn’t even want to know if Dumbledore knew the details of his and
Malfoy’s relationship, whether anyone saw it or not. “I didn’t use my better
judgment. I gave away vital information.”
“I admit, the means were clever,” said Dumbledore. “I’m sure you and many
others would have suspected Voldemort to try and trick an Order member. I’m
sure he easily could have. As you’ll come to understand, Voldemort
underestimates his opponents, making his more clever ideas foolish. Mr. Malfoy
told you, did he not? I have people who told me before even you knew. The fact
that Voldemort knows how the blood bond breaks may come off to our
disadvantage, but since we know, the advantage is actually in our favor. Simply
put, I’m not upset with you, Harry, and I’m sure you’ve learned a valuable
lesson.”
Harry smirked. “Yeah, never trust Slytherins.”
The small smile on Dumbledore’s face faded. “Now, Harry, you can’t judge an
entire group from a single person’s actions. I’ve even met Death Eaters that
proved redeemable, although not many.”
“Like Snape?” Harry asked quickly, almost wishing he hadn’t.
Dumbledore shook his head. “I’m not explaining this again. I trust Severus.”
“You know, I had a vision, and you weren’t here,” said Harry. “When I talked to
Snape, he-“
“-transported to Malfoy Manor immediately, convincing Voldemort to spare young
Malfoy’s life,” Dumbledore finished with a smile.
“He did?” Harry raised an eyebrow, admittedly glad to know that Snape did take
him seriously and at the same time, not that surprised as Malfoy had returned
from the holidays, appearing relatively fine.
Dumbledore nodded. Although Harry didn’t feel nearly as happy about it as he
would’ve the night he had the vision, he still didn’t wish death upon Malfoy.
His abdomen contracted. It didn’t matter how angry and loathsome he felt toward
him, he knew he was still going to care about him. How he wished he could just
dismiss these inconvenient emotions.
“If you have no more questions, I ask that you return to the common room,”
Dumbledore beamed. “I expect you could use more sleep than you have been
getting.”
                                     -----
Harry sat at the bottom of a tree on the Hogwarts grounds. His two best friends
stood ahead of him, facing the Black Lake. With Quidditch, Through the Ages
held open in his hands, Harry’s lips curled. He’d grown quite tired of Hermione
and Ron’s latest choice of discussion.
“I never would’ve guessed Malfoy an actor,” Ron said.
From the sigh Harry heard Hermione give, he assumed she was shaking her head.
“Well, we don’t really know him, Ron.”
“Whaddya mean, Hermione? We’ve known him for the past five years.”
“We’ve known of him. We don’t know him. I’m sure he treats the Slytherins much
different from the way he treats us.”
Harry growled in frustration, dropping his book to his lap. “Will you guys
please stop?! I’m sick of you talking about him. I don’t even want to hear his
name spoken.” His eyes widened in accusation. He had asked them this many times
before, yet they always came back to the subject eventually.
“Sorry, mate,” Ron grumbled, shooting red sparks from his wand that skipped
across the Black Lake, hiding his face away from Harry.
Harry picked his book back up, thumbing through the pages to return to his
place.
“Harry,” Hermione breathed, walking away from Ron and sitting across from him.
“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like talking about him. But something’s been
bothering me, lately . . .”
Harry rolled his eyes, picking up that she was basically asking for permission
to keep talking about Malfoy. “What is it?”
Hermione spoke very delicately. “You said, you lifted his sleeve and didn’t see
a Dark Mark.”
“Yeah?” Harry replied irritably, flipping a page a little harder than he
needed.
“Was it his left arm?” she asked.
Harry nodded.
“Are you sure?”
Harry growled, letting go of his book once more. “Yes! I remember lunging
specifically to the–ah, fuck!”
Ron turned around. “What is it?”
“I lunged to the left!” Harry groaned, smashing his palms into his forehead. It
was so obvious; how did he miss it? “My left! I was facing him. I checked the
wrong arm.”
“So do you think that means he has a Dark Mark?” Ron asked, lifting an eyebrow.
Hermione nervously twiddled the ends of her hair. “I don’t know, but I’ve been
thinking. We saw him threatening Borgin before the year started, then you
overheard him talking to Snape about an Unbreakable Vow . . . It just doesn’t
add up. What would any of that have to do with you?”
Ron walked over and sat next to Hermione, looking at her. “So, what? Are you
saying that getting information from Harry was like a second mission?”
Harry reached into the pocket of his robes. Hermione continued, “I don’t know,
but-“
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
“Harry!”
He unfolded the map, his eyes glued to it. His book slid off his lap, ignored
at his side.
He ignored Hermione, not surprised that she had shouted at him as soon as he
pulled out the map, but Harry was surprised with himself. It made sense. Malfoy
must have been ordered to get information from Harry on a separate occasion.
The more he thought about it, he did notice Malfoy’s change of attitude started
to shift after they returned from the Christmas holidays . . . How had none of
this occurred to him before?
“What are you doing?” she snarled.
“You’re right, Hermione,” said Harry, not looking up from the map. “He’s up to
something. Something else . . .”
Hermione stood up. “We don’t know that for sure. I didn’t tell you so you could
spend all your time looking for him on that map again.”
“I don’t know, Hermione,” said Ron. “If Dumbledore’s not gonna suspend him for
what he did to Harry, maybe it’s worth catching him.” Harry grinned to himself.
He hadn’t expected Ron to side with him and felt admittedly happy that he had.
“Exactly,” Harry said, his eyes intently scanning the map. “He’s up to
something, Hermione, and I’m going to catch him.”
Hermione scoffed, snatching her bag from the ground and storming off to the
castle. Harry looked up from the map to see Ron stumbling to get up to his feet
and run after her. With a sigh, Harry whispered, “Mischief managed,” then
grabbed his book and bag off the ground, following after them.
“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Harry asked, catching up to Hermione and
trying to organize the map, his book and bag in his arms to keep from dropping
them.
Hermione shook her head. “I’m just disappointed.”
“Why?” Ron asked, his eyebrows rising. “If he’s up to something, we should
figure it out.”
“First of all,” Hermione said, coming to a stop outside the great oak front
doors, “it’s not our place. If he’s up to something, I am sure that Dumbledore
can handle it without our assistance.”
“Not if Snape’s helping Malfoy,” Harry replied, getting his bag open and
slipping the book and map inside.
Ron pushed the door open. “Yeah, Snape would probably be trying to hide it from
Dumbledore.”
“Okay, well second of all,” Hermione said, turning toward Harry rather than
walking inside. “You know that seeing Malfoy’s name on the map is only going to
bring out past emotions, which are just going to make you sad and hurt more.”
Harry shook his head. “I understand your concern, Hermione, but it’s not like
that. I just want to catch him, bring him to justice.”
Hermione sighed. “If you say so,” she said, not sounding remotely convinced.
She walked inside, followed by Ron and Harry. They walked toward the marble
staircase, when the door to the dungeons caught their attention.
Draco Malfoy’s physique had grown considerably thinner since the last time he
saw him. Harry heart pulsed, sending a jolt through his veins that felt like
needles. He and Malfoy stopped dead in their tracks the moment they took notice
of each other.
Ron immediately drew his wand. “Stupefy!”
Malfoy jumped back, the door still open to deflect the jinx. Scowling, Malfoy
poked his head out from behind the door. “What’s your problem, Weasel?”
Ron opened his mouth to shout, but Harry threw his arm across his friend’s
chest. “Don’t worry about it, Ron. Just ignore him.” Harry looked over to see
Hermione’s knuckles white from clutching Ron’s arm so hard. Despite the fact
that she clearly didn’t want Ron to attack Malfoy, she glared daggers at the
blond.
Malfoy scoffed. “I don’t need you to protect me, Potter.” He stepped out from
the door, Pansy Parkinson followed immediately behind him. Malfoy quickly
grabbed her hand, shooting a seething glare at Harry.
Narrowing his eyes in return, Harry lowered his arm, watching as the couple
walked up the marble staircase. Parkinson glanced back, sending Harry a
taunting sneer before they disappeared around the corner, making his stomach
twist.
He personally wanted to catch Malfoy, no matter what.
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