Title: Voice: A Story in Three Parts
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters you see here. That belongs to JK Rowling and other wonderful people that are not me. I also disclaim any rights to the "Braveheart" movie I stole a quote from within the writing of this chapter. Kay thanks.
Warning: Honestly, I am probably not going to mention anything about Voldemort. The characters are also probably ridiculously OOC (per usual) and it takes place in their final year at Hogwarts. Rating might go up with later chapters, but probably not.
Summary: Hogwarts is as loony as ever. Well, maybe a little loonier. Slash HD pairing. Basic understanding of Harry Potter required.
Author's Note: Here I am, writing yet another tale for you all. This story is a bunch of silliness with, as usual, no Beta. One day some poor soul will try to teach me how to actually write, but until then I butcher the English language with relish! Crack fic at its worst. I also don't know why I have an obsession with pranks, but I do. Especially dumb ones. There will be many in this story.
"Oh, oh, Draco say it again!"
Harry was not pleased, sitting at the Gryffindor table. Surrounding Malfoy were gaggles of girls from all houses, swooning around the blonde. Unfortunately, there was reason for it. Harry glowered at the Slytherin table as he bit into his corn beef sandwich with a misplaced viciousness, watching Malfoy lean in to speak into Padma Patil's ear.
"Hello, Padma."
Harry rolled his eyes as all the girls swooned. It simply was unfair! How could there be such a thing as justice in a world where Draco Malfoy's voice changed to be the most irresistible, sultry delight Hogwarts had ever heard since Severus Snape's voice changed nearly 20 years ago? The girls continued to squeak, and were occasionally silenced when Draco would say something else.
Hermione slid in next to Harry. "Harry, is everything all right?"
"No!" Harry replied. "No everything is not all right. Look at him!" They both managed to turn in time to hear Draco say, "Isn't it a lovely morning?"
"Oh dear," Hermione remarked, "when did this happen?"
"This morning," Harry groaned. "He just came in with a group of girls around him and he was speaking to them and it's been going on all day! It's just not fair."
"Oh, come on Harry," Hermione said. "It's not that much of a surprise."
"What do you mean ' not much of a surprise'?" Harry asked, "He's supposed to be a squeaky voiced git!"
"Well, I'm sure his 'squeaky voice' was just his voice changing, Harry." Having reached a full understanding of the situation, she reached out and grabbed a muffin to butter.
Harry sulked a little while longer, watching the prat mesmerize all the girls (and some of the lads) within a ten seat radius. Hermione finally persuaded him to stop mangling his food and, with the rest of their Saturday to look forward to, the pair walked out of the Great Hall to find Ron back in the common room working on his Wizarding Chess techniques.
"You've got to be kidding me," Ron said aghast when Harry told him the news about Draco's new voice. "But he's always been such a little squeaky—,"
"Voice Change," his two friends said, one far grumpier than the other.
"Oh, well then I suppose that makes sense," Ron said with a shrug and went back to his task.
"But don't you think it's so unfair, Ron?" Harry asked, hoping his best friend would see what his other friend didn't.
"Is it?" Ron asked. Harry gaped as the other boy shrugged. "I suppose so."
"What do you mean 'you suppose?'" Harry asked.
"Well, I mean the only reason I'd get mad is because he'd be wanting to steal all of our girls, right?...No offense, Hermione." Ron added the last bit quickly, although Hermione just sent him a half hearted glare and continued with her book about...well, erm...something boring. Harry didn't understand.
"So, he's not going to do that?" Harry asked. His two friends stared at him.
"Harry, Malfoy's gay," Hermione said after getting over her friend's oversight.
"Huh?" Harry gasped.
"Yeah, mate. Everyone knows that," Ron responded. At Harry's stunned face, the red head merely patted his friend's back before getting back to what he was working on.
Overwhelmed, Harry stood and walked up the stairs to his dorm before lying down on his bed. Malfoy was gay? Why hadn't Harry ever noticed? Well, it could be largely in part due to the fact he was fighting evil on nearly a daily basis until the end of this past summer.
One week after that day of revelation, much of the hubbub died down around Malfoy(although the occasional sigh could be heard when the honey-voiced Slytherin would answer a question in class). Harry seemed to be the only one struggling at getting used to the new tone though. When the blonde would come up to him and try starting some sort of fight, Harry would turn tail without saying anything at all. Any pranks were ignored, and it soon got to a point of the Hogwarts population wondering just what was wrong with Harry Potter.
Of course, if any stranger asked he would say nothing. If a friend asked him, he'd say he didn't want to deal with Malfoy anymore now that they were nearly adults.
Only to himself would Harry admit that he simply couldn't fight with Draco anymore, because now the only reason he wanted to fight with him was because he was jealous. In any case, who had any right to be jealous of Draco Malfoy?
It was nearly the end of Harry's final year at Hogwarts, and really this entire thing was getting a bit ridiculous. Ever since Draco's voice officially changed, Harry had made the point of ignoring everything about the boy: his taunts, his pranks, his insults were all shunned. Harry thought that, with time, he'd finally be left alone and life would resume the peace it had before Draco had to muck up his life and have the voice of a sex god (according to the general female public, of course).
However, it seemed that good fortune was not with Harry Potter...ever. Not only did Draco persist irritating the living hell out of him, but he began redoubling his efforts! Instead of just going after Harry in the halls, he'd go after him during meals, in class, outside of the classroom door, in the library, by the lake, on the quidditch pitch, in the bathroom for heaven's sake! He wasn't just using cutting words and insults about Harry's friends and family, but he was using other devices. Harry was still unable to get the goop all the way out of his robes from the latest prank that landed him face down in the hallway in front of the Potions classroom covered in red slime. Snape had been a bastard about it, as expected, and made Harry sit with the goo on his clothes until the stench finally made him unbearable to be around, even to the fume-proof nose of the professor.
Harry feared what he would be facing today as he slowly crept down the stairs to the Great Hall early on a Thursday morning. Peeking in, Harry saw he was one of the first inside and, with almost manic glee, grabbed a seat and began piling food on his plate. As he began his meal, Harry kept an ear out for Draco's highly recognizable croon.
As Harry was reaching out for a second piece of sausage, he heard it. He admitted that it really was quite a nice voice, and if Draco wasn't such a bastard Harry might be able to appreciate it with more than the fear he was feeling now. Keeping his eyes averted, Harry awaited what was to come.
Yet nothing came.
What felt like hours later, Harry looked up to see Draco talking to his housemates and casually eating his breakfast. Twitchily, Harry looked back at his own food. Perhaps he should get out now before Draco realized Harry was there. When Harry left the Great Hall, he knew he was in trouble. Any minute now, Draco would come up behind him and attempt to hex his shoelaces together or something.
...Any minute now.
...Any minute now?
Harry turned back and saw that he was, indeed, alone. A few paces back towards the door and Harry again saw Draco sitting at the table looking unbothered. The blonde looked up and Harry nearly bolted at that, but all Malfoy did was cock his head to the side and look at him curiously before turning back towards his housemate and, over all, ignoring Harry.
Maybe this was a trick. Harry would see to the bottom of it.
Yet as the day came to a close, there had been no sign of Draco taunting anywhere. That was saying quite a lot since Thursday was normally a day packed with prank attempts, what with them sharing two classes. Yet nothing was to be wrought upon the poor Gryffindor both to his delight, confusion, and his classmates' misplaced disappointment.
An entire week passed without any sort of interaction from Draco's side. Harry, after months of this incessant barrage, was now more paranoid than ever. He knew there was a trick behind all of this, Harry simply had to gage what it was. Yet, it seemed like Draco was finally putting his pranking days to rest.
Harry was nearly about to go mad.
Going on two weeks, Harry finally had enough. In the library, Harry found the Slytherin studying, alone, amongst the immense bookshelves that filled the ancient room. Harry stood in front of Draco and anticipated his looking up at him, perhaps giving a smirk or a sneer. Maybe he'd shoot out his wand and attempt cursing him, or throw a pie in his face. However, as Harry stood there, nothing seemed to happen. Harry cleared his throat, which caused Malfoy to glance up.
"Ah," the Slytherin said, his voice low and sweet. "Hello Potter."
"Malfoy," Harry said sharply. There was no response as Draco went back to what he was doing. "So, is that it?"
Malfoy again paused and looked up. "Is what it?"
"Are you done with the pranks and the...and the everything?" Harry said, waving his hand to explain all the other horrible things the other lad had done.
"Oh...yes, I suppose so," Draco said with an air of disinterest. Harry stood there gaping like a fish. "Is that all you wanted?"
Instead of answering, Harry made an about face and was about to walk away when Draco's dreamy (according to the girls, of course!) voice called him back momentarily, calling his name. "What is it?" Harry grumbled.
When Harry turned to face the other again, the curious look that Harry remembered seeing in the Great Hall two weeks ago. "What's your favorite color?" Draco asked.
Harry felt his sanity slipping away as he actually contemplated the question. "Why?" he finally asked.
"It's not that difficult of a question to answer," Draco responded.
"That doesn't explain why you want to know what my favorite color is," Harry said. Draco's lip dipped in a slight frown. Finally he said.
"I'm just curious."
Harry just about gave up on this entire enterprise. He sighed and replied. "My favorite color is green."
That made Draco's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh really?"
"Yes, Unfortunately, green's gotten a bad rap recently, but I still think it's a fine color."
Turning around quickly, Harry left the library to contemplate what had just happened, and perhaps bang his head on the wall a few times.
A week later, Harry finally began getting into the routine of not checking around each corner for his rival's next attack. The pranks were really over, it seemed. Of course, Harry was ecstatic about it...
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked over dinner.
Well, at least he was trying to be.
For some reason that Harry could hardly understand, there was a new sensation that was coming over him since this entire debacle started. Sure, it was far more convenient to not have muck to clean off his robes, or new bruises scattering his knees (from falling! Not from anything untoward, honestly!). In general, the peace that had settled on Harry's shoulders should have held the sound of angels and smatterings of fairy dust. Harry—blast it all!—was feeling bored.
Since when did he need Draco Malfoy to make life interesting? It was a question that Harry didn't really want an answer to.
"Harry, you still haven't answered my question," Hermione reminded him.
"I'm not sure what you mean," Harry replied, "nothing's wrong." Hermione and Ron sent each other a look. "Don't do that mental talking thing, you know how awkward it makes me!"
"Sorry," they said in unison, causing Harry to groan again. Ron took the reigns this time. "We just want to know what's got you so down, mate."
"Nothing's got me down," Harry assured them. As they lulled into quiet, Harry distractedly played with his food as he stared vaguely in the direction of the Slytherin table. Ron started to talk about quidditch, but all Harry could manage offering was an occasional 'hmm' in what he hoped were the right places. Again, they descended into quiet.
"You know," Hermione said, a glint in her eye that Harry would have noticed if he were paying attention. "I've noticed that Draco's begun pranking some new people. Although I feel bad for them, I suppose it's nice for a change." She hid a smile as her friend's head popped up in interest.
"What do you mean he's been pranking other people?" Harry asked
"I mean that he's seemed to move on from pranking you. I'm pretty sure I saw him put burping bubbles in Hannah Abbot's soup the other day at lunch," Hermione confessed.
"What? That isn't fair," Harry responded, sounding like he was on the beginnings of an outrage.
"Why isn't it fair?" Hermione asked, "Haven't you suffered enough of his pranks?"
"Because I'm supposed—," although Hermione wasn't able to hear the rest of that thought as Harry shook his head and went on a different train of thought."Malfoy shouldn't be pranking other people."
"Mate," Ron said, finally catching on to what Hermione was up to. His eyes were slightly narrowed as he asked, "Are you jealous?"
"What do you mean—of Malfoy?" Harry asked, then scoffed. "Of course I'm not jealous of Malfoy! He's a git, and he needs to be stopped. This has nothing to do with jealousy, but justice and I will put an end to his tyranny!" Harry threw down his cutlery in haste to leave the Great Hall, to the rousing cheers of the Gryffindors—sans Hermione and Ron—and a couple of the Hufflepuffs. Meanwhile, his two friends looked at each other again and quietly resumed their meals.
Harry Potter searched the library, where he had found the blonde git last time, but he was no where to be found. About to search another corridor, Harry was stopped by the low, melodic tone that could only belong to one person wafting in from outside of the library. Walking slowly towards it, Harry was able to pick up that Draco was talking about a project for arithmancy with another student. As he was about to confront the blonde, Harry couldn't help but stop and listen. Malfoy's voice really was a delightful thing. It was low, but not gravelly, and not altogether slick either. It was soft, like dew settled over morning grass, yet earthy like the soil beneath it. It made Harry's mouth dry for some reason, and when he tried to lick his lips he found his tongue stuck to them. A voice far less enticing cleared their throat and Harry snapped out of his reverie. A Ravenclaw staring at him with a raised brow and pointed out without words that Harry was blocking her way.
Embarrassed, Harry moved forward. In his haste, he realized that he was stepping right into the hallway where Draco and his partner—which he now realized was Terry Boot—were laughing together. There was even a musical quality about the git's laughter! It sounded warm, like a fire crackling in a fireplace on a winter night. Such a scene hardly went with the Slytherin persona! It was then that Harry realized that Boot had left and Malfoy was now just watching him in amusement.
"Is there something you want, Potter?" Malfoy asked. Harry shook his head violently to get his brains all settled. He nearly forgot what it was that he came here for in the first place, but he rectified that as he stepped up to the blonde git (who was taller than him too—damn it!) and point a stern finger in his face.
"I am sick and tired of you picking on people, Malfoy," he said, "And I think you should stop right now."
"But I'm not doing anything, Potter," Malfoy replied quickly. "I'm just standing here, minding my own business while you've got your finger in my face." Harry looked at the offending finger then back at Draco. "I would say that right now I'm the victim, Potter."
"Oh, you're such a wanker!" Harry responded in kind. "You think you're so clever, don't you. You think because you're the hotshot Slytherin and because your balls finally dropped that you can just go around picking on people and pranking them? Well you can't!"
Harry was disappointed that all he elicited was an eyebrow raise. Then, Malfoy stepped a little closer to him in challenge. "Oh yeah, and what are you going to do about it? I'm pretty sure I picked on you for nearly all this year and you never said anything before," Malfoy said, and Harry swore he must have been using magic because the croon that was leaving that boy's throat was doing very improper things to his head.
"Because I was ignoring you and hoping that you would go away," Harry said, slowly so that even an idiot could understand him.
"Yet here you are, Potter, seeking me out. It all seems rather backwards to me," Malfoy said in mock confusion. Then his smile went a little more crooked, his eyes glinting with a wickedness that Harry happened to miss. "So tell me, why did you really come to find me?" The voice was truly starting to get to him now, Harry realized. It must have been because he didn't allow exposure to it for the past few months that Draco had been bullying him. The other students here had built a tolerance, and Harry was behind because he'd been building a very thick wall between the two of them. Too bad it was crumbling down.
"I came," Harry began but found himself unable to finish, because his damned mind had been sucked in by the Slytherin's voice. It lead Harry to realize that there were more things that were very nice about Draco Malfoy. For one, his hair was no longer greased back, but brushed out of his face and otherwise untouched by product (or at least any product visible to the human eye). His face was still pointed as ever, but the skin that covered it was unmarred by acne or freckles. Also it just so happened that the shirt he was wearing looked rather nice. It was darker than what he normally wore, which was of course the white button up of their uniform. It really made his eyes pop, although something about the color seemed to come out at him. Before Harry could get carried away, he cleared his throat, shut his eyes, and stepped back a little from the boy (when did they get that close?). When he opened his eyes, Harry's resolve was back. "I came because I wanted you to stop bullying the others. If you have a beef with me, then that's fine, but don't force other people to deal with your crap."
Again, Draco reacted in a way that Harry didn't expect. Instead of growing cross, the boy tilted his head and stared at Harry curiously. However, even though it was looking at him, Harry didn't feel scrutinized, although a blush was beginning to coat his cheeks.
"All right," Draco finally agreed. "I'll accept your demand on one condition." Harry knew enough about Draco Malfoy to be wary of the boy's demand, but nodded for the other to continue. "You answer me one question. Are you dating the Weasley girl?"
It took a moment for Harry to realize what the other had asked. "Ginny?" Harry asked in disbelief. Draco didn't respond, only waited for an answer. "Of course not! She's practically my sister." Harry's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
Although there was no great change in the other, there seemed to be a certain lightness that wasn't there before. "Because that was my condition. All right, I promise not to prank anyone else at Hogwarts," he said with a bow. Harry suppressed the desire to roll his eyes. Suddenly, the two were just standing there and Harry wasn't sure if he was supposed to be the first one to leave or Draco. Clearing his throat, Harry was about to bite the bullet and take his leave, but was held back by a hand that was surprisingly Draco's. Looking back, a cryptic gaze met Harry's own and for a moment he was as speechless as he'd been when he really heard the other boy for the first time. The boy cupped Harry's hand for a long moment, then finally extracted himself from the exchange and walked away. When the blonde was out of sight, Harry rubbed his own face for a moment and sighed before walking up to Gryffindor. What a bizarre series of events tonight had been.
When Harry got upstairs, he noticed that a few of the younger years were exchanging knowing looks with each other and back at him. Grumbling about kids these days, he went up to his dorm only to be met by rousing laughter from Dean Thomas, who had been drawing in his sketchpad on his bed. "What are you trying to be, William Wallace?" Dean hooted, kicking the bed in his mad giggling. Seamus looked up and began laughing as well. "' They may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom!'" they both quoted and fell in heaps of giggles on their respective beds. Harry looked at them in confusion. Neville was the only one who pointed to their washroom where the poor boy discovered that he had blue paint all over one half of his face, where he had rubbed it earlier.
"Bastard," Harry muttered, but he couldn't help a flutter in his stomach. Draco Malfoy was up to his old pranks again. As Harry began washing his face, he realized something.
Draco's shirt had been green. Harry had never seen him wear a green shirt before tonight.
He went to bed that night wondering things about Draco Malfoy, but mostly wondering about himself. Just what the hell was going on?
End Part One