A Slytherin Sex God and The Boy-Who-Conquered
Chapter One: There's Too Many Questions && Too Many Strings
Black, unkempt hair was all that appeared visible above a dusty, onyx hued comforter, the only indication that the life form existed beneath said blanket was the occasional grunt from an unpleasant dream. The lump groaned as a small creature scuffled in, a tray bearing tea propped expertly on its hand.
"Kreacher, I don't want to." A cold voice said flatly from beneath the blanket.
"Master told Kreacher to wake him so master can go to Diagon Alley today." The tiny creature insisted patiently, more than accustomed to Harry's reluctance.
With a forced resilience, Harry disentangled his arm from its cloth confines and drew the covers down.
"Thanks, Kreacher," He muttered, simultaneously grabbing the cup of tea, drawing his willowy body into a sitting position.
Kreached bowed himself out, all the while muttering about cleaning the room later.
Harry set the cup aside after a hearty sip, throwing the rest of the covers away to reveal the emerald green cotton of his pajama bottoms, "Great," he mumbled cynically, glaring down at his lap. Sweat had glued them insistently to his legs, emphasizing the strange knobbly knees he had inherited from his father. The sheets surrounding him were drenched similarly, making them peel rather reluctantly from his arm, still half submerged in cotton.
He plopped backwards again, one hand placed firmly over his eyes. Once again, piercing grey eyes swam mockingly across his vision, pale pink lips curved up into a taunting sneer.
"What...the...fuck?"
----------Diagon Alley----------
Harry stood calmly in Madame Malikin's, the owner bustling around him with pins dangling precariously from the corner of her mouth.
"...into your seventh year then, dearie?" She questioned, flicking her wand at a pile of green material.
Harry nodded curtly, wondering how she could do all that she was and find time to question him.
After the war, Draco suffered no revelations. He hadn't suddenly gone soft, and become an upstanding citizen. Certainly not, he was a Malfoy, and prissy apologies and lifestyle turn-arounds were simply not his thing. However when he entered the robe boutique he couldn't help but pitty his rival just a little bit.
Pale, skinny hands pushed inside the pockets of dark gray robes, his usual smirk firmly in place, "Well, well Potter, don't you look..." Steel eyes traveled down the boy's body before he continued, "...different." He decided finally.
Harry's blood pounded slightly as the familiar voice drifted to his freshly pierced ears.
It was true. He did look different. The last Malfoy had seen him, his untidy hair was short, his face unshaven, and his style...well...different. Harry hadn't really thought much of the changes whilst they were occurring. They came naturally. But now, even as he stood, looking ridiculous in his too big emerald robes, the reality of his appearance hit him.
His raven hair now hung slightly past his shoulders, it's weight managing to pull it into a style that, at least, didn't defy gravity. His black rimmed eyes, though never innocent, now held a detached sort of acceptance that radiated knowledge.
Although Harry could never bring himself to self-mutilation (that would be like stomping on his parents' sacrifice) he seemed to have found a new love for body art. Piercings and tattoos particularly. Thus far he had managed to pierce his ear and lip, and placed a tattoo of two black roses circling his belly button; Lilly, James, Sirius, Remus, Fred, Albus, and Severus's names followed the stems paths.
All in all...he was a virtually different person.
He turned slowly to face Malfoy, "And you...don't," He commented, forcing down the visions of his dreams that resurfaced at the sight of his blonde nemesis.
"...have a friend of mine, her son is in his second year, Arleen Murdock, my friend obviously, not her son, who'd name a boy Arleen? No, his name is Burt---Barney...or well, something with a 'B'." Madame Malkin twittered on, oblivious to Draco's entrance.
Harry stood, staring blankly at Malfoy, ecstatic that he didn't posses the power of occlemancy, wishing he could come up with something witty, perhaps insulting, to say to Malfoy. As it was, it was all he could do to keep his dream, and his breakfast, down where it should be.
Draco reached a hand up to scratch at the side of his head, "Woman, do you ever shut up?" He questioned sincerely. Not once since he had started visiting the store had he ever seen her mouth shut for more than a second or two.
"I-well I-" She blushed, rising with a pink face to stare at Malfoy, "Never! In all my years!" She cried, turning on her heels only to step into Harry, "Can you believe?" She questioned incredulously, her eyes wide. She waited a few seconds, perhaps hoping Harry would come to her aid. When he didn't even look at her, his gaze still trained fixedly on Malfoy, she glared at him, making her way angrily around Harry and into the adjoining room where a small girl waited nervously.
All the while she worked around the girl, Harry could hear her muttering; "...the boy-who-conquered...hmph...the boy-who-needs-more-manners if you ask me..."
"No, I suppose she doesn't..." Harry concluded for Draco, not really speaking to anyone in particular, even if he still gazed at the blonde.
"YOU'RE FINISHED!" She snapped at Harry, having heard his conclusion, "...boy has changed so much! Poor dear...still, that's no excuse..." she rambled on.
Harry sighed, stepping down from the raised platform to stand, (perhaps a bit closer than usual) in front of Malfoy.
Draco chuckled with his usual silky smoothness despite the somewhat awkward situation. Anything other than exchanging insults with the boy automatically dubbed the moment strange, "Clearly not."
Harry's eyes traveled the length of Draco's body, attempting to squash the feeling of embarrassment at Malfoy's height advantage.
"Clearly," Potter breathed, unusually flustered.
An awkward grin later, Harry side-stepped the blonde and strode out, his hand brushing against Draco's side breifly.
If Draco were the type to have warm-hearted emotions, he'd probably be giddy right about now, but..Malfoys did not suffer giddiness. So let's just call it sexual frustration. The blonde moved over to the display window to watch the boy's retreating figure. "He looks almost decent now..." The Slytherin Prince mumbled, not about to admit that Potter was more than 'decent', he was damn gorgeous, but he was still a Gryffindork, and even with the war over and his overbearing father in Azkaban; Draco simply couldn't start seducing Gryffindors.
He moved to press his weight against the frame of the window, "Hmm...I have already shagged all of Slytherin...well, all of the attractive ones. The rest look like they were bred by trolls...and most of Ravenclaw, touching a Hufflepuff is obviously out of the question, which leaves..." Draco shook his head, taring himself away from the window, "Oi, woman! Are you almost finished over there? I need a robe fitted!"
Once outside, Harry gulped air with a greed that suggested he had been submerged in water for the amount of time he was inside Madame Malikin's. A little of the old Harry gleamed in his eyes as they turned quizzically to the tiny boutique, shoved rudely between the Dervish and Banges and Eeylops.
Potter shrugged, ignoring the fact that his hand could still feel the heat of Draco's body through his robes. "Weird..." He grumbled, turning on his heels to continue his trek down the narrow road that split Diagon Alley. His eyes scanned the shops breifly, checking for anything he may have missed, when they fell upon the stunning purple You-No-Poo poster that marked Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
Harry's eyes remained trained on the building for sometime, attempting to find some excuse to drift away. He hadn't seen George since the night of Fred's death.
The death he felt responsible for, just as he felt responsible for the deaths of anyone who had met their end at the hands of Tom Riddle.
He sighed to himself. With a new found resolution, he moved his feet forward, approaching the vibrant building purposefully.
Harry stepped in, gazing at the once intense hues of the many packages and pranks that lined the wall. Perhaps it was just him, but to Harry, the contents seemed to have lost some of their energy, some of their vibrancy.
"George?" Harry called tentatively, unsure that he would even be there.
A head adorned in coppery red hair popped out of the back room, "Harry!" George greeted cheerfully, a bit too cheerfully to be honest. A loud bang sounded, and the lone twin disappeared again, all the while muttering about 'too much Bubo pus'.
He reappeared a moment later, "Sorry 'bout that, Harry." Brilliant blue eyes scanned over the boy, taking in his appearance, "Become a magnet, have you?" He joked, referring to his peircings, "And that hair!" He exclaimed, sounding flamboyantly queer, "Charlie would be soo proud." He clasped his hands in front of him as Mrs. Weasley did atleast twenty times a day.
"I'm sure he would," Harry grinned, his face lighting with humor, "Now about that Bubotuber pus..." He trailed off, peering around the edge of the wall.
With a wicked grin, George shoved him forcefully into the room.
"OH MY - - !"
----------Platform 9 3/4---------
Harry gazed happily at the billowing smoke issuing from the scarlet Hogwarts Express, ignoring the stares he got as he lugged his trunk behind him, a cage bearing a large cat hovering a few inches in front of him.
"Harry!" A male voice called, followed shortly by a female echoing it.
Harry turned to see a tall brunette male and a slightly shorter female approaching him, "Hello Neville, Luna," He greeted them warmly, or...as warmly as he could manage.
The school year hadn't even started, and Draco Malfoy had already picked out his first victim. Leaning against one of the brick columns, cold gray eyes bore into Potter's frame, his mind still working out the details of his plan. First off, of course, he had to figure out the boy's sexual preference. Maybe he could convince Zabini to jump Potter or something...Okay, that wasn't going to work for two reasons; one, he had lost favor with the Slytherins, the Zabini wasn't going to let Draco push him around like he had in the past, and two, Potter was his even though he was still in the process of winning him over, and no one other than himself was about to touch him.
Oblivious to his intent watcher, Harry continued to converse rather half-heartily with familiar faces until the arrival of Ron and Hermione.
"Harry!" Hermione called, rushing forward to draw him into a hug, "You look so different!"
"Hey," Ron grinned, shaking Harry's hand.
Harry returned their greetings with enthusiasm, glancing over them as if expecting...there it was!
He stared fixedly at Hermione's stomach, "Er...Hermione? Did you - uh...Are you er-" He began, unable to complete the question.
Ron and Hermione blushed simultaneously, Ron scratching the back of his head whilst Hermione began stuttering.
"Er pregnant?...yeah," Ron finally managed, his voice reluctant.
"Uh, congratulations!" Harry mumbled awkwardly, shaking Ron's hand again.
"So...let's find a compartment," He surged on, glancing around.
The couple's face fell.
"Er...Harry? We-we've just come to see you off...I'm not going back to school...not...like this," Hermione frowned, her voice tentative.
"What?!"
"Sorry, mate. With Hermione...pregnant..." He seemed reluctant to say the word, "We have to keep her at home near a doctor."
A year at Hogwarts without Ron and Hermione? Harry's mind went blank.
"It's fine," He heard himself say, almost cheerfully. He continued as Ron and Hermione's faces lightened, "I'm just going to get my N.E.W.T.'s so that I can become an Auror, then I'm outta there!"
He forced a laugh with the others.
"Ooh, where's Teddy going to stay, Harry?" Hermione queried.
"Siri - er, my house...with Kreacher."
Ron looked stunned.
"You sure that's safe, Harry? Leaving him in that stink-"
"RON!"
"Sorry, Hermione."
"Teddy's fine, Ron," Harry stated firmly.
A short blast from the Hogwart's express brought them all back to reality.
"Blimey, look at the haul this year!" Ron exclaimed, gazing around them.
Indeed, Platform 9 3/4 was completely submerged in new faces, drifting around aimlessly chattering with family.
"They can't all be first years," He continued incredously, "Look at that beast!" He cried, pointing to a massive boy in too small robes. "He's got to be a 4th year at least!"
"Of course they're not all first years, Ronald!" Hermione snapped, though there was no real venom in her voice, "Durmstang's new headmaster was arrested for trying to force the students into learning the Dark Arts."
Another short blast from the Hogwarts Express echoed around the steadily emptying platform.
"Better hurry, mate." Ron sighed, clapping Harry on the shoulder.
He frowned, looking as if an internal struggle raged a war in his mind.
"Right...er, Hermione? Could I talk to you for a second?" A look from Ron and he hastily continued, "It's about my N.E.W.T.'s."
Hermione looked sceptical for a moment, but consented to follow him to a nearby stone pillar.
"Um...I had a dream-" He began, but was cut off by Hermione, her voice shrill and worried.
"About Voldermort?! Harry-"
"No! No, it was about...Malfoy." He muttered the last part under his breath, indistinguishable from the roar of the scarlet train's roaring engine.
"What?"
"Uh...Malfoy. Dr-Draco...Malfoy." He uttered, mortified.
"Oh, Harry, not this again!"
"No, no, it's not like that! In the dream he...kissed m-" He broke off, the final warning of the Hogwarts Express sounding in time to drown his voice.
"Hurry! Go! Go!" Hermione cried as the train began to pull from the station.
Harry groaned, calling quick 'good byes' to Ron and Hermione before turning on the spot and disapperating onto the train.
He heard a collective gasp as he popped into a compartment absolutely stuffed with giggling 3rd years.
"Harry-"
"Harry Potter!"
Whispers of his name followed by giggles surrounded him, pressing in on him mercilessly.
One brave curly haired girl reached out a hand the grab his arm but released it when he shot her a cold glare. He pushed his way past the 3rd years and stumbled out into the corridor, his clothes slightly disveled but otherwise, intact.
Harry began his trek down the corridor, groaning when he saw that the compartments all seemed to be as full as the one he had apperated into.
He had almost given up hope when he noticed a single empty compartment at the very back of the train. He sighed with relief and stepped into it, realizing immediately why it was empty. The room seemed to be right next to the engine thus excruciatingly loud. Not to mention it held the distinct smell of rotting flobberworm.
With a sigh, he muttered soundlessly under his breath, waving his wand a bit until the smell was gone. With one last incantation he had quieted the engine then plopped himself down onto the seat and covered his eyes.
---------Meanwhile----------
"What the hell?!" The Slytherin prince exclaimed angrily, "...damn Durmstrang...fucking deatheater wannabes..." Draco added a new damnation under his breath each time he opened a compartment door. All of the blasted things were filled with the children of had been deatheaters, none of which were too fond of him at the moment. He growled at a third year who stepped on his foot as he made his way toward the back of the train.
Hopefully some of the compartments farther back would be vacant or he could just conjure up a noose...Either way would work.
"This is ridiculous!!" He proclaimed, slamming yet another door shut. He approached the last compartment, ready to give up and look for a place to hang that noose, but wouldn't you know it? Right when he was ready to go suicidal, his luck changed by a considerable amount. The one and only compartment with any room left, and there sat Harry Potter. It couldn't have been more perfect if he had planned it himself. Okay, naturally, if he had planned it, it would have been immaculate. That and the boy would have much less clothing...that smirk of his returned rightfully to thin, pale lips.
"Potter." Draco acknowledged, pulling the door shut behind him.
'Hell and Damnation!' Harry's mind screamed, 'THAT BOY IS EVERYWHERE!!!'
"'Ello, Dra-, Malfoy." He replied, correcting his near 'fatal' mistake quickly.
Draco's smirk widened at the almost slip. Maybe this would be easier than he had originally thought.
Harry cracked his eyes partially to take in Draco's visage, his eyes raking the boys body taking in every crease and bulge...er, for his wand obviously.
"Everywhere else full or could you just not stand being away from my company?" Harry questioned sarcastically, his eyes still searching Draco's body...for his wand!
Draco sat down on the bench seat opposite Harry. He stretched his legs out in front of him before he answered, "Oh, someone's grown an ego." He announced, his words, for once, not drowned in bitterness, don't want me associating with them." He mumbled, sounding slightly hurt, not that he'd ever admit that, "So it was either gracing you with my presence or conjuring up a noose to hang myself with." He didn't bother to hide the fact that he was practically devouring the boy with his eyes, "A rather easy decision, I think."
"And by an easy decision, you mean 'bring on the noose', obviously." Harry almost smiled, enjoying the rare chance to not argue with Malfoy.
"Obviously." Draco agreed, nodding his head a little.
Finally giving up the pretense of sleep, Harry sat up, swinging his legs around to prop the up on the seat opposite him.
Noticing the flaxen haired boy's attention, Harry forced down the feelings of pride and excitement. (I'm straight) he reminded himself, and conjured up a feeling of disgust.
"Enjoying you fill, are you?" He questioned cooly, doing a deliberate stretch that pushed his black tee up and revealed his abs, the dark tattoo contrasting beautifully with his sun kissed skin.
Draco's eyes moved over the freshly exposed skin, "Like I said, Potter, you look different." He shrugged dismissivally.
(Umm, yea...still straight) He said mentally again, though it was drowned out by a purring that sounded in his head.
Harry trailed a hand down his stomach with the pretense of grabbing the wand protruding from the hem of his pants.
Steel eyes flicked upward to watch the boy's hand. Was the Boy-who-conquered actually trying to seduce him? God, this really was going to be easier than he had predicted. Hell, he could probably go over there right now and snog Harry senseless without much resistance.
"Hungry?" Harry grinned, slightly wicked, and gazed at Malfoy's face intently.
Draco opened his mouth to, no doubt, give a perverse reply, but decided against it, "Nope that's just too easy." He thought aloud.
Harry smirked, the voice shouting (Straight HELLO??) completely ignored.
"Maybe not as easy as you think, Drakie. I can put up quite the chase."
The voice in his head had conjured up a body for itself simply for the pleasure of imaging itself bashing its head against a wall.
(You -bang!- are -bam!- NOT -BANG- GAY!!! STOP -Bam- FLIRTING!) with that final word, the image fell down, face first and lay twitching every few seconds.
"Hmmm...sounds like a challenge." Draco observed quietly.
"Well I'm hungry." Harry shrugged after a pause, and summoned a stack of Cauldron Cakes from the trolley. (he so just stole)
He grabbed one from the pile and crammed it into his mouth, closing his eyes as he swallowed as if it were the most wonderful thing he'd ever tasted.
"Want one?" He questioned politely, flicking out a pink tongue and curling it around his thin fingers expertly, letting no crumb go untasted.
Inside his head Harry's alter ego person ((we'll call him Haep)) twitched disgustedly and groaned in a muffled voice (not..gay...)
Draco slouched farther down in his seat accompained by a lazy sigh, "I'll pass." He anwsered distactedly, trying hard, really hard, not to jump the boy right then and there. He was still a fucking Gryffindork, and thus had to be approached with caution.
"Did you just call me Drakie...?" The blonde huffed, "Seriously? C'mon." Draco added in an uberly macho voice that did not resemble a pout in the slightest.
(I called you no such thing!) Haep screeched indignatly.
"So what if I did? Are you going to stop me?" Harry spoke over Haep, his voice slightly louder in an attempt to drown him out.
"Only if you call me that again. Makes me think of Pansy." Draco shuddered for effect.
Just then Harry's body was forced forward slightly as a result of the slowing train. "Hmm...already at school? That was quicker than usual." He shrugged it off and with a flick of his wand, was in his usual school robes, with one distinct difference; the robes bore no house crest.
"Better change Malfoy, you don't want to be trampled in a hoard of burly Durmstrang gits, do you?"
Draco fished out his new Black Walnut wand, his other one having been stolen, and his rightfully wand, unknowingly to him, incased in Dumbledore's tomb. He brainlessly changed into his robe, which was blessedly free of a prefect badge this year, thank fucking Merlin. Speaking of missing things, "Where'd your stupid little Gryffindor thingy go?" Draco frowned for a moment, he so didn't just say 'thingy'.
Harry cleaned the random wrappers left by the Cauldron Cakes and resisted the urge to smirk.
"My Gryffindor...thingy," He chuckled, "No longer belongs to me. I wrote to McGonagall ocer the Summer and asked to be resorted." The teen left his story there and barreled himself out into the flooded corridors, shoving his way past thers with an almost cruel air.
A/N: This was co-written by myself and Era, I can't recall you penname on here, but that's her nickname. Since two people were writing, if anything comes off as confusing or if it's organized weird, please tell us. We still need a beta, very, very badly. Send me a message on AIM, Jaden334, if you're interested.