Title: Working It Out (temp)
Summary: Harry and Malfoy are the bane of their Professors lives. When they finally go too far, can the teacher's new idea help them stop fighting? Or will it push them away? Or will it make their rivalry worse?
Warnings: Graphic sex, SLASH, yaoi, boy-on-boy, foul language, fighting, etc. Not for the faint of heart. What can I say? It's fun to write. *grin* manipulative!Draco, powerful!Harry, redeemable!Hermione
Author's Note: I wrote this whole story when I was supposed to be finishing 'And You Thought This, Why?' the sequel to 'Um, Whoops?'. *sigh* oh well. Enjoy! Also, the Points of View switch per chapter. So, Harry, then Draco, then Harry, and so on.
Important:
This story will be posted following this format- Chapter 1 was posted when Chapter 5 was completed. Chapter 2 will be posted when Chapter 6 is completed, and so on. I AM writing this story, don't fear- I love the idea of it too much to avoid continuing it. My other stories will continue to be posted sporadically. Thanks for listening.
Chapter 1-
There are times, Harry thought with a scowl, when I should know to just let things go. He glared around the Headmaster's office, pointedly ignoring one side of it. Dumbledore wasn't there yet, and Harry was starting to get antsy. The fact that he didn't know how to let things go was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Ignoring Malfoy should be second nature to him by now, and yet every time that stupid fucker opened his mouth, Harry just couldn't leave it be.
And this morning at breakfast had been a perfect example. Malfoy had been spouting off his usual idiotic and derogatory comments, and Harry had been denying his existence very well. That is, until the arse started in on Harry's family.
No matter how strong Ron's grasp was on his arm, or how rational Hermione sounded, nothing could have kept him seated at that point. He'd surged off the bench, and as the hall saw him move, everyone went quiet with expectation. On Saturday's, the teachers ate by themselves in a private lounge. Everyone knew that if things started to get rough, there wouldn't be any teachers around to stop them.
Harry had stepped out from the table and walked over to his nemesis, asking, "Repeat that, Malfoy?" , and of course the Slytherin had.
Harry wasn't even sure himself who had thrown that first punch- it might have been him, responding to the insult, or it might have been Malfoy, trying to get the upper hand. But it didn't even matter, really. Harry had known, even as he felt a fist collide with his cheekbone and as he grappled Malfoy, trying to pin the other boy down, that it never really mattered.
Even as hastily dressed teachers descended on the Hall, led by a fearfully determined Neville, even as they were pulled apart and snapped at, and even as they were hauled to the Infirmary, he'd acknowledged that sometimes the only thing keeping him sane- the only thing- were these confrontations with Malfoy.
Oh, he would never admit that to anyone, but these fights were anchors to a world he no longer felt he really existed in. The fights reminded him that there was more to life than training, that there was at least one person who didn't see their 'Savior'. Whatever his faults, to Malfoy he was just an ordinary man.
The sound of an opening door brought him back from the past, and he looked over to see Dumbledore walking into the room, Fawkes gracefully floating in behind him. Unfortunately, that also brought Malfoy back into view, and Harry couldn't stop a scowl from rearranging his features.
Dumbledore settled himself at his desk, his no longer twinkling eyes pinning the two boys with a sadly determined expression. When Harry started to shift uncomfortably in his chair, the Headmaster began.
"I cannot understand why the two of you continue to have these altercations, when in the past such actions have always been followed by detentions and loss of House points."
He paused, and Harry thought he was trying to get them to say something to rationalize their actions. But he was damned if he was going to say anything, and from the corner of his eye he could see in the set of Malfoy's face, the slightly raised eyebrow, that he felt the same way. He turned his head and eyed Fawkes thoughtfully, a slight grin lifting his lips when the phoenix crooned at him.
Dumbledore sighed. "Your Heads of House have come to me with a demand that you cease this at once. This senseless violence of yours is trickling down to the younger years. The relations between both your Houses have never been so poor."
Harry shrugged. However much it went against his image in the wizarding world, he didn't care. He'd stopped caring about anything except fighting a long time ago. Dumbledore continued.
"Therefore, I have decided that, given the unique circumstances-" meaning Harry still hadn't defeated Voldemort and Lucious Malfoy was still the Head of the Board of Governors- "the two of you will not face expulsion, as would be the normal price for so flagrantly disobeying both myself and Professor's McGonagall and Snape time and time again. Instead, I have decided that the two of you will stay in an isolation chamber until you can resolve this conflict between you."
Harry bolted straight up, not caring that for once, he and Malfoy were in agreement about something.
"Sir, that's barbaric! You can't-!"
"But, Professor! I have Quiddi-!"
"Silence!" Harry and Malfoy both paused mid-sentence, gaping at the Headmaster in shock. "Your Heads of House and I all agree that, given the special circumstances, this is the best approach to solving this."
Dumbledore pinned Harry and Malfoy with a glare and continued. "Now, all your things have already been moved to the chamber, and- depending on how long this takes- your assignments will be delivered to you, along with food and all necessities." He stood, and Harry and Malfoy copied him unthinkingly, following as he walked to the door. The Headmaster went on as he led them down his winding stairs and across the corridor, leading them towards an unused tower.
"There have been several spells placed on the room. They will keep myself and Professors McGonagall and Snape informed of your actions, and will sound an alarm if you resort to violence." Dumbledore stopped suddenly and turned to them, face set. "You understand that your behavior must change. This school cannot afford to be divided over petty differences, not ever, but most especially not now!"
As he turned back and continued to led them to their cell, Harry heard him repeat under his breath, "Most especially not now."
They continued walking in silence after that, Harry silently fuming as he translated that muttered comment- that they couldn't afford to have their Weapon's attention not fully on the situation with Voldemort.
Harry continued to seethe as they were lead up several sets of winding stairs, across a hall, and up yet another flight of stairs.
They stopped their ascent at the top of the tower, and a door appeared in front of them. Dumbledore turned to them and said, "One last thing." He held out his hand, and as they looked at him in askance, sighed and said, "Wands."
Harry yanked his out of his robes with ill grace, slapping it into the Headmaster's hand while Malfoy did the same. The door swung silently open, and as they stepped inside, the Gryffindor heard Dumbledore sigh. He turned and sneered at the door as it closed in his face.
Harry huffed, and then turned to face the room. His eyes narrowed. Their cell was furnished, alright, but the furniture looked second hand and wobbly, the rugs were threadbare, the fireplace small, and there was barely enough room to turn around in for one person, much less for two. The only redeeming feature in the room was that half of the wall was solid glass from floor to ceiling, and the view of the Forbidden Forest was spectacular.
He shared a disgusted glance with Malfoy; he noted with some surprise that this was the second time today that they had agreed about something. He shook his head and turned to the other side of the common room, eyeing the two doors curiously, then went over to one while Malfoy went over to the other. The door he went to, he noticed, was covered in little splinters, and the paint was peeling off. He shivered in disgust. Obviously the house elves either weren't allowed in here, or they didn't know about this suite.
He pushed the door open and stood in the frame, and a furious expression settled on his face.
"No fucking way!" he spat, livid. "When I get my hands on him, I'm gonna fucking kill him!" he finished with a growl. The unusual sound of Harry cursing had drawn Malfoy over, and they both backed away from the sight before them.
In the room, painted a distasteful dirty-yellow, were two twin beds pushed right up against opposing walls. Even as far way as they could get, there was only about five feet of space between the two beds. The beds were covered in mustard yellow sheets, with violet bedspreads. Harry's lip curled as he fought down more curses and the urge to throw hexes at something, anything.
He shut the door firmly, blocking off the eye blinding sight. "There is no way I'm sleeping in there!" Harry said firmly. Malfoy just raised an elegant eyebrow. Harry scoffed. "Don't tell me you're going to. That place is a dump! I can't believe I got stuck in here."
That got a response out of the blond, alright. "You? Did I hear that right? The uncouth Gryffindor who grew up with Muggles? You have a problem with that room?" He raised a hand to forestall Harry's protests. "I'll have you know that this pitiful excuse for a room doesn't even come close to the luxuries I am accustomed to. Hell, our dungeons are better furnished than this, this mess."
Malfoy's arms had been crossed- now they drifted down to his sides as he leaned forward with a smirk. "Although, given what I've heard of the Gryffindor dorms, this might be an improvement for you."
Harry snapped. It used to take him a while to get worked up enough to start a fight, but now, it seemed all the bloody blond git had to do was open his mouth and Harry was spoiling for one.
He stepped forward, so that there chests were a bare foot apart, and snarled, "Well, at least I'm not so pampered that I spend an hour primping everyday. Tell me, what did your mother want to call you? Draconia?"
He was just a bit too slow dodging the kick aimed at his groin as an infuriated Malfoy tried to kill him. Harry grinned as the blow landed on his hip. He'd known that rumor would come in handy someday.
They fought for a few, brief moments before the door flew open and Snape stormed into the room, wand out and "Immobilus!" shouted before they could even register his presence. They froze in place, Harry in a headlock and Malfoy's face contorted in pain from the hold Harry had on his ear.
Snape left them like that as he lectured. "Do you two fools think that this is a game? Is there anything the two of you won't fight over?" He glared at their still forms, and continued louder than before. "You have to kill the Dark Lord, Potter, or have you forgotten that fact? And yet, you persist in having these stupid, pointless fights with Mr. Malfoy! What would happen if you were recovering from a fight and the Dark Lord attacked! What would you do, Potter? Did you ever think of that?"
He paused, then- surprisingly- turned on his own student. "And you, Draco- you are no better! Why do you feel the need to box with the foolish Gryffindor like some common born Muggle? Do you have any respect left for your name? Don't you care what people think of you? Is there any reason for these foolish altercations over events that have long since passed and that you had no part in?"
Severus came to a halt, and glared at the two. "I cannot believe that after all that has been done for you, you still persist in this idiotic grudge. Grow up, get over your differences, and for all of our sakes, stop fighting!"
With a last glare and a wave of his wand, Snape left, robes swishing behind him. The second the door closed, the two boys were released from the spell, and they fell to the floor with twin thunks.
Harry picked himself up, absently offering a hand to Malfoy who, after a moment, cautiously accepted the help. He heaved the Slytherin upright, then let go and turned to look out of the windows. He heard Malfoy move over to one of the chairs, waiting a bit to see if the creaking as it accepted his weight was a prelude to collapse. However, the creaking stopped, and Harry gave a silent sigh of relief.
Abruptly he froze, wondering why on earth he'd been worried about Malfoy falling through a chair when by rights he should be hoping it happened? Harry frowned, but a cool voice interrupted him.
"Potter, I believe that lunch has arrived." Harry turned away from the window and stared in surprise at the spread before him. Cold cuts, cheese, condiments, bread and juice were arrayed on the rickety end table between the two chairs.
The Gryffindor made his way over to the empty chair, sitting and helping himself to the offering. He idly watched Malfoy as he ate, noticing the precise way he layered his meats and cheeses, put two drops of honey Dijon mustard on the bread, and laid them together. Harry snorted to himself. His sandwich was half gone already, and it had been haphazardly made to begin with.
He frowned as he recalled Snape's little speech. That bastard had no idea- not the vaguest clue- of what Harry did every day. Class had become secondary to training, and if Dumbledore decided that Harry was lacking in any little skill, the Gryffindor was pulled from class and drilled over and over in minutia that he would never need to use!
And everything had suffered as a result. His friendships had been stretched taut, and some of the bonds had already snapped. He had been told, very fiercely, by Justin that his presence was no longer required. Hell, they'd just gotten over that debacle from second year, too!
Hermione's and Ron's friendship had stayed firm, thankfully, but it too was injured by the things he couldn't tell them, like why he always fought with Malfoy, what he did when he wasn't at class, why he sometimes came back to the dorms limping or bleeding.
Something in his face must have given away what he was thinking, because a icy voice brought him back to reality.
"Sometimes the littlest things can be translated through something so insignificant as an expression. Tell me, Potter, what you find so distasteful now."
Harry sent a startled glance to Malfoy, wondering how on earth the blond could have seen something even his friends could not divine, and why the boy was watching him in the first place.
"I was thinking about Snape's speech, actually, and about how little that arrogant son of a bitch really knows about me." Harry said, a bit defiantly. Harry knew that Snape was Malfoy's Godfather, and that only had a tiny, insignificant thing to do with the Gryffindor's choice of words.
The blond raised an eyebrow, but let the insult slide. "I, too have been thinking about it. He doesn't know me half as well as he believes, if that is what he thinks would get me to reconsider my…" he cocked his head and gave a small smile, "antipathy… for you."
Harry snorted. "I know what you mean. Do you know, I spend most of my day learning how to kill a monster?" He held is breath, wondering how the blond would respond.
"Mmm, I had, actually. There is no other reason for you to miss so many classes and yet still have a grade to rival mine." Harry gave a sudden smile, remembering something Hermione had let slip a while ago. The main reason she disliked Malfoy so much was because no matter how hard she studied, his grades still managed to be better than hers.
"Yes, well, you seem to have been the only one to have put the pieces together in the right order. Everyone seems to think that I'm having an illicit affair with a teacher- guesses have ranged from Sinistra to McGonagall."
Harry laughed as Malfoy shuddered, and added, "That's what I did too. God, can you imagine?"
"I'd rather not, thanks all the same," came the dry reply. Malfoy heaved a sigh and stretched out, resting his elbows on the armrests and crossing his feet at the ankles.
Harry borrowed one of the blonds expressions and arched an eyebrow. "Slouching, Malfoy? Are you sure you're allowed to?"
The Slytherin's expression changed from relaxed to tense in a heartbeat. Voice blank and expressionless, he said, "I thought I had told you, Potter, that Snape's lecture was the wrong incentive to stop fighting with you. I assure you, I have had enough of people telling me what to do and how to think."
Harry wondered where that had come from. "Malfoy, chill- I was just kidding. You can slouch, I don't care. Hell, as far as I'm concerned, you can do the can-can if you want."
The blond just stared at him for a moment, Then the tension drained out of him with one long sigh. "I forget that you are not a Slytherin, and that a comment like that was not a veiled threat." He waved a hand in dismissal. "I shall try to remember that you are just a Gryffindor and therefore incapable of betrayal."
Said Gryffindor frowned. "I think I'll take that as a compliment?" he said, raising his voice to make it a question.
A slow smile slid onto Malfoy's face, and Harry wondered at the feeling in his chest. "Yes- do."
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, Harry picking apart a bun as he got lost in his thoughts and Malfoy staring out of the window, a thoughtful frown marring his otherwise perfect features.
A crack rent the air, and both boys were startled from their thoughts, turning to stare in question at the house elf that had just appeared. The small creature, who Harry realized was Jillie, the house elf who took care of the Hufflepuff's, cleared the mess up and vanished without a glance at them.
Harry and Malfoy exchanged a glance- both knew that Jillie was usually falling over herself to help anyone she saw. Completely ignoring anyone was extremely uncharacteristic.
The brunet frowned as he focused his mind on the wards surrounding the room for the first time, eyes drifting shut in concentration. After a couple seconds, he'd sorted through the expected alarms and wardings, and found something hidden underneath them. His eyes popped open to see Malfoy staring at him in curiosity. Harry considered him for a moment, quashing his sudden surge of anger, and asked, "Can you do any wandless magic?"
The Malfoy Heir stared at him, then an expression of aristocratic hauteur appeared on his face. "Of course," he sneered. Harry might have said something nasty in reply, but something about Malfoy caught his attention. The blond was still reclined in his chair, posture screaming utter relaxation, and the only emotion in his voice was humor. The Gryffindor shook his head slightly and continued with his train of thought.
"Alright- take a look at the wards. I'm holding back the clouding/barrier- type ones, so you should be able to see what I'm looking at. And tell me if it's what I think it is."
Harry watched in interest as Malfoy closed his eyes and sank into his magic. It was captivating to watch the blond's magic come up around him in a silver cloud, and to feel the subtle not-scent of sandalwood waft past his face. This was one thing he loved about wandless- the things he was seeing and smelling belonged to an entirely different plane. He knew what the other Seeker had found so fascinating before.
It was mere moments later that Harry felt Malfoy's magic brush past his, and he had to control a shiver. He'd known that working wandless magic was intimate, had experienced it first hand when he was learning it, but this was so much… more.
As the blond prodded at the wards, being careful not to trigger them, Harry watched as silver tendrils drifted past his magic, sometimes combining then separating, and head on towards were the majority of the wards were centered. He was a little surprised to see flickers of his own magic chase after Malfoy's, flicking in and around them before darting back.
After a few minutes of examination, Malfoy pulled his magic back to his core and opened his eyes at the same time as Harry. Their eyes met, and Harry was taken aback by the look of pure fury in them. He stayed still as Malfoy exploded out of his chair in one graceful movement, stalking over to the windows and glaring out at the clouds.
The blond was silent for a few minutes before he suddenly turned and hissed, "How dare he!"
Harry snorted in agreement, his own anger slowly starting to boil. He shifted in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. "This is what I don't understand," he started out. "Dumbledore is the one who taught me wandless magic; he should have known that I would, at some point, take a look at these."
He waved a hand in Malfoy's direction, continuing, "And you! You've had the finest education money could buy since you were old enough to learn. What did that arse think he was doing?" he finished on a growl.
The blond turned and leaned against the glass, staring at Harry thoughtfully. Now that someone shared his irritation, his own anger was starting to dissipate. "Well, yes, that's all well and good but the real question is why did he think that a Blood Barrier would be appropriate in this situation?" Malfoy frowned. "And when did he get our blood?"
Harry snorted. At the blond's look his explained. "After all the fight's where we've come in covered in blood that's fairly obvious." Malfoy sneered, but looked away, conceding the point. Harry picked up on the previous train of thought. "Blood Barrier? But… this doesn't make any sense. Aren't those used to contain the criminals at Azkaban?"
"Congratulations, Potter, well done. An O for the boy," was the blond's sarcastic response. Harry sniggered a bit at that. Who would have thought that there would be a day when he found the Slytherin funny?
"I'll take the O- I'm rather short on one's I've actually earned- but that still doesn't answer my question." Harry waited to see what the blond would say.
Malfoy took a breath and let it out slowly. "It does make sense. What it means," he said quietly, "is that until we conform completely to their expectations, we will be locked in here." Malfoy turned back to the window and crossed his arms- the thought 'he looks vulnerable' drifted through Harry's mind- and continued. "Only the creator of the Blood-Barrier can undo it."
Everything seemed to slow down for Harry. He'd been trapped, in a Tower, with someone who was his arch rival- but, he suspected, not anymore- and bound by blood? And all of this was done by someone who had sworn to protect him?
Harry stood slowly and made his way over to Malfoy, standing next to him. They both looked out over the Forbidden Forest, and an idea started to shimmer in the back of the Gryffindor's mind. He left it alone- eventually, he knew, it would make itself known.
The two of them stood together for a while, close but not touching, until the sun began to set. The crack of a house elf had come and gone a few minutes prior, but neither had made to move. Eventually, though, Malfoy stirred and jarred Harry out of his thoughts. The blond turned and walked a little stiffly over to the table, sitting in his creaky chair, and summoning one of the mugs of tea from the tray.
Harry looked at the food- mashed potatoes, corned beef and turkey, three different kinds of bread, and more- and summoned his own cup of tea. He stayed standing- Harry's knees had an interesting tendency to creak if he'd been standing to long- and sipped his tea.
Eventually, though, he finished and went into the disgusting excuse for a bedroom. He stared at the horrid colors, took in the sight of sheets that hadn't seen soap for years, and scowled. He raised his hand, magic freely flowing up his fingers, and made a slashing motion. Everything blurred, and when he could finally see it again, he sighed in satisfaction.
The sheets had been replaced with black silk, there were two down pillows, and the quilts were midnight blue down. Harry stripped out of his clothes, forgetting for a moment that Malfoy might come in at any time. Falling facedown on the bed, he struggled under the covers, realizing and not caring that it would be easier to get up and slid under instead of rolling around and trying to yank them out from under his body.
He finally got settled, and fell asleep almost instantly. It had been a long, stressful day full of unwelcome surprises, after all. However, if he had stayed awake a bit longer, he would have seen the surprise on Malfoy's face when the Slytherin walked in the room to see his bed also covered in black silks and down quilts.
… … …
Here endeth Chapter 1. How do you like it so far?
MannyWitch