"Little Red Riding Hood?" Ron flopped back on his bed laughing. "Please tell me I can call him that from now on!"
"It's another fairy tale," Hermione rolled her eyes. "And it seems pretty clear that Malfoy is the spell's target."
"That's no good," Harry said. "I don't want to be connected to him."
"Why not?" Ginny asked, plucking at Harry's quilt thoughtfully. "He's calmed down a lot since before the war. And what he went through because of his family, I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."
"Excuse me," Neville stood and glared at his friends. "Have we forgotten who we're talking about here? We're talking about a bully of epic proportions. He's terrorized every one of us, and he actually attacked Harry on more than one occasion. Are we really going to just set that aside?"
"Well," Hermione considered carefully. "It's not really setting things aside. It's growing up."
"And if he's who Harry wants then we should support that," Ron added.
"You're all mad," Neville shook his head in wonder. "Harry, I want what's best for you, too, but this is madness."
"Now hang on," it was Harry's turn to stand up. "I never said I wanted him. Why have we all decided it's settled?"
His friends were silent, like they expected him to answer his own question.
"I mean, do we even know whether he's gay?" he asked. More silence.
"That's a very good point," Ginny finally murmured. "Do we know whether he is or isn't?"
"It's kind of an important detail," Harry said.
"Well the spell picked him out," Hermione said. "And surely it's able to pick an appropriate match with the correct sexual orientation."
"I certainly hope so!" Harry exclaimed. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny grinned at him simultaneously. "What?"
"You said you hope so," Ginny said.
"Bollocks," Harry muttered.
He decided things were getting out of hand. The spell didn't care about what he wanted, it was bulldozing ahead towards a match without his consent. And his friends were now along for the ride. So he kept to himself and tried not to trigger the spell again, refusing to stop and talk to anyone in between classes, and certainly not speaking to or even looking at Draco Malfoy.
His only consolation was that Draco didn't seem to realize that he was caught up in Harry's spell, that the strange things that had been happening all linked him to his longtime rival. Harry's face burned with humiliation when he thought about how Draco would surely react if he found out.
In fact, he felt so consoled that he was caught off guard at the end of Advanced Potions class when Professor Slughorn tasked him with running down to Hagrid's hut for an ingredient he needed for the next day's lecture.
"And take Mister Malfoy with you. Dragon spoor is quite heavy and may require two people," he said.
Harry looked up in surprise. "Malfoy? Why Malfoy?"
Draco's look of surprise crumpled into a scowl. "I don't want to go with you either, Potter."
"Why not Ron?" Harry insisted. He could feel a blush creeping up his neck.
"Because Mister Malfoy needs extra credit to make up for the ingredients he wasted pranking a fourth-year student last week." Slughorn said.
Draco snickered and then returned to his scowl.
"Do I get extra credit?" Harry asked.
"Why, who did you prank?" Slughorn's bushy eyebrows shot up.
"No one."
"Then why do you need extra credit?" he asked.
"But you said Malfoy-"
"That is all, gentlemen," Slughorn dismissed them with a wave.
Harry glanced over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione, who were waiting by the door with grins plastered across their faces.
"Come on, Potter," Draco caught Harry's elbow and dragged him from the room. Hermione waved with a giggle and Ron made a smooching face. Harry wished he could fall down a flight of stairs.
"Let go of me," Harry yanked his arm out of Draco's grasp as they emerged into the late afternoon sunshine.
"Oh pardon me, Saint Potter," Draco waved his hands in mock dismay. "You know, Slughorn has a lot of nerve asking us to fetch this ingredient. It's beneath even someone of your station."
"Afraid of a little heavy lifting?" Harry was grateful for the sniping conversation. It distracted him from the tension in his gut that told him the spell could manifest itself anytime.
"It's not the heavy lifting I'm afraid of," Draco said. "Do you know what dragon spoor is?"
"Scales?"
Draco stopped in mid-stride and peered at him. "You really don't know that word?"
"Should I?" Harry stopped, too. "What does it mean?"
"It means," Draco glanced around and waved Harry in close, like he wanted to share a secret.
Harry swallowed hard but stepped closer, crossing the imaginary barrier that was his bubble of personal space. Draco grasped his elbow and leaned in, putting his mouth right next to Harry's ear. Harry's heart pounded furiously and his mouth went dry.
"Shit," Draco murmured sensually. "It's dragon shit. A big steaming pile of dragon shit."
"Gross," Harry yanked his arm free. "Bugger off."
Draco laughed in delight at Harry's revulsion. He strode on down the hill, over the lawn to Hagrid's house with his blond hair fluttering in the breeze and his robes billowing out around his knees.
"Step lively, Potter," Draco called.
Harry lectured himself furiously about keeping his cool, and not letting Hermione's sodding spell get under his skin, and remembering what a prat Malfoy was. He still had free will, after all. The fairy tale spell wasn't an Imperius curse. He could still control his own actions, even if Malfoy was attractive, even if he was tickling a part of his interest he'd never tickled before, even if he made Harry's basic instincts want to-
"Fuck," Draco hauled up short and Harry plowed right into his back.
"Malfoy," Harry's voice came out whinier than he liked.
"Look at that," Draco pointed. Up ahead was Hagrid's hut. Except it wasn't Hagrid's hut. It was the wrong shape, more Victorian in design, delicately detailed with gingerbread edging.
In actual gingerbread.
The roofline was scalloped in icing, the walls were dotted with lemon drops and gummy candies, and the flagstone walkway was now a line of oversized cinnamon biscuits.
"Oh no," Harry murmured.
"Is his whole house made of candy now?" Draco's eyes lit up. "Do you think it's real?"
"It's real," Harry sighed. "But we should steer clear of it."
"Rubbish," Draco looked outraged. "Dear Professor Slughorn needs his potion ingredient, and we would do him a disservice to turn back now."
"You can't eat that candy," Harry said. But Draco was edging away from him, sugar lust sparkling in his eye.
"Why not?" Draco demanded. "He won't notice a bite here or there."
"What are you, a child?" Harry lunged and snatched a handful of his robe. "Show some restraint."
"Potter," Draco leveled a steady gaze at him. "Let go of me."
"You don't need that candy," Harry insisted. "Trust me."
"Potter," Draco said again. "Let go."
"Malfoy, it's not what you think," Harry said. "The candy is a lie."
"Funny you should say that," Draco mused. "I spent most of my life having my head filled with lies. Lies about the importance of blood purity and the worthlessness of muggles. Over the last two years I've come to realize that nothing I knew for certain is true. My father is not invincible. The Dark Lord's vision of a muggle-free world is rubbish, and he was a half-blood himself. I learned that there are actually things you can't buy, not with all of the Galleons in Gringotts. And that power is pointless if you're alone and the whole world is against you. Everything I knew about life and even about myself is untrue, and I've spent the last two years trying to figure out who I am if everything I am is a lie." He took a breath and raised his chin proudly. "I am left with only two truths that no one can take from me. The first," he raised a finger, "is that I love candy. And the second," he raised another finger, "is that you stink." He grinned and flipped a rude vee-sign. "Last one there is a dragon spoor!"
And with that he yanked his robe free and ran for Hagrid's hut. Harry's mouth worked soundlessly as Draco pelted down the lawn towards the confectionery house. With a start he uprooted himself and ran after him, knowing that this could only end badly.
"It's frosted gingerbread!" Draco exclaimed as he snapped a piece off of the porch railing and took a bite. "And look, gumdrops!" He attacked the candied border of a window. He jumped down into the melon patch and dug a handful out of what looked like a pumpkin and crammed it into his mouth. "Marfmawwo!" he garbled around the sugary fluff. "So good," he moaned.
Something way down in Harry's belly twitched at the sound of that moan. It was the sound of pure pleasure, of heady indulgence, and it made Harry's cock perk up just a little bit. He sternly tried to talk it down, but Draco was jumping from candy to candy and making more sounds of pleasure that Harry couldn't ignore. He unconsciously brushed his thumb across his groin as Draco dropped to his knees before an oversized peppermint stick and deep-throated it with a groan of pleasure. A drop of sweat beaded at Harry's temple.
"Potter," Draco scooped a handful of marshmallow fluff from one of the pumpkin-shaped candies. "Try some." The corners of his mouth curled upwards, none of the usual nastiness in his smile.
"We'd better not," Harry snapped out of his erotic trance. He jerked his hand away from his crotch and hoped the bulge wasn't too obvious.
"Come on, try some!" Draco waded through the marshmallow melon patch and thrust his fist at Harry's face. Harry was caught off guard and tripped, wheeling his arms as he tumbled backwards. Draco lunged and followed him to the ground with a laugh, still trying to find a way to force the orange fluff into Harry's mouth..
"You're getting sugar all over me," Harry protested as Draco scrambled to pin him down and press the confection past his lips. Harry clenched his jaw and glared up at his rival, and then something snapped. For just a moment time seemed to hang still, and the world around them went quiet, and suddenly there was no one else in the world but Draco Malfoy. He was glorious in his joy, his eyes bright and his grin endearing as he tried to press the candy into Harry's mouth. And then Draco's expression softened, like he was struck with the same epiphany about Harry.
His hand was gentler now, and he touched the marshmallow to Harry's lips in a delicate caress. Harry opened his mouth and let just a bit of it in, just enough to melt on his tongue and fill his head with candy sweetness. Draco's smile was different now, tentative and wondering. Harry raised his head and took another bite of the marshmallow fluff, catching the tip of Draco's finger between his lips. Without thinking about what he was doing, he swirled the tip of his tongue across the captive digit and Draco's eyelids fluttered.
"Harry! What're yeh doin' down there?"
Draco rolled away and hopped to his feet as Harry jumped to attention. Hagrid was leaning out of the gingerbread house's door and peering curiously at the two boys in his garden.
"Hagrid," Harry dusted the powdered sugar from his robes. "What happened to your shack?"
"Dunno," Hagrid's scratched his gigantic head. "Woke up an' here it was. I miss the melons but it sure is prettier like this, innit?"
"I ate some of your railing," Draco pointed. "I'm not sorry."
"Yeh never are, are yeh?" Hagrid shot him a grimly tolerant look. "You two want teh come in?"
Harry was conflicted. On the one hand, he knew how the fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel ended. On the other hand, this was Hagrid. Hagrid wouldn't hurt a fly. Malfoy, perhaps, but not a fly.
"Have you got any milk?" Draco asked as he followed the large man inside. "I'm dying for a drink."
Harry reluctantly came along and inspected the interior of the house. It looked normal, no candy on the inside, which Draco pointed out with disappointment.
"I'm not suggesting it's your fault," Draco was saying. "I'm just suggesting that a bed made of sweets would be amazing."
"Can't stand the sweet stuff m'self," Hagrid sat down with a thud. "Been hungry all day, but I've got nothin' to eat."
"We could run to the Great Hall and get you something," Harry suggested.
"Nah, wouldn't want teh bother yeh," Hagrid eyed Draco again. "Besides, kinda enjoyin' the company."
That didn't sound right. Since when did Hagrid enjoy Draco Malfoy's company? And why was he watching him so intensely? And why was his hand sneaking towards the hatchet-
"Draco! Run!" Harry shouted. He lunged across the table and snatched Draco's hand, pulling him out of his chair and out of Hagrid's reach.
"Now don' get excited," Hagrid stood and blocked their path to the door. "Just makin' small talk is all."
"We have to leave," Harry said firmly, his eyes locked on Hagrid's. The man's gaze was distant. He wasn't himself, the spell had him in the thrall of the fairy tale.
"Potter," Draco tried to free his hand. "Why are you holding my-"
"Hagrid, let us leave," Harry said louder. He remembered how Hansel and Gretel ended but he would be damned before he shoved his friend into the oven.
"Great Merlin's ghost, does he mean to eat us?" Draco finally realized what was happening.
"No," Harry said. "Hagrid wouldn't do that. Would you, Hagrid?"
"Been hungry all day," the giant man murmured softly, his eyes distant. His mouth worked as though savoring the thought of food.
His great hands swung wide and tried to scoop them into his grasp. Draco ducked and dragged Harry by the hand between Hagrid's legs, wordlessly flinging the door open with a sweep of his fingers. Harry hung on tightly and let the other boy propel him out of the house and down the gingerbread steps. Behind them Hagrid shouted and stumbled over a chair as he tried to pursue them. Draco pelted through the melon patch and up the lawn with Harry's hand locked in his grip. They didn't stop until they reached the beanstalk that was still wrapped around Gryffindor tower, which he ducked behind with Harry at his heels. They pressed themselves up against the stone wall of the castle, chests heaving for breath and ears tuned to the sound of pursuit. They heard only their own breathing and the occasional chirp of a bird higher up the vine. Their fingers were still intertwined, clutching at each other as they crouched in the shadow of the beanstalk.
"Strange things are happening," Draco gasped between breaths. He let go of Harry's hand and pushed his hair back from his forehead.
"I know," Harry said.
"Why are strange things happening?"
"I don't know."
Harry felt guilty for not owning up to the spell, but he didn't know how he could explain it without sounding like it was his fault. Besides, he still hadn't figured out what the spell was doing, why it thought Draco should be its quarry. And if all he could do was tell him that they were apparently supposed to connect in a romantic way, he figured it wasn't worth mentioning at all.