CHAPTER SIX: Secrets

Harry took Draco by the hand, cupping their fingers but not intertwining them. The Slytherin reluctantly held on, eventually allowing himself to relax and grip Harry back. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"To Hogsmeade," Harry said, leading him along at a brisk pace.

"I know that, you silly Gryffindor," Draco sighed. "But how are we getting there?"

"Just trust me."

Draco couldn't help but laugh. "I just told you I didn't," he scoffed.

"No time to learn like the present," Harry replied. "We're here."

And indeed they were. The statue of the One-Eyed Witch stood in front of them, frowning down at the duo with a frightening glare.

"Gunhilda of Gorsemoor?" Draco said. "Why are we looking at her? She's uglier than Hagrid."

"Watch it, Malfoy," Harry warned him, gripping the Slytherin's hand a little tighter.

"Or you'll do what... Potter?"

Harry flashed him an evil grin. "Wouldn't you like to know!"

And Draco cursed at himself, because the very thought of Harry punishing him sent his heart racing and his palms sweating. He didn't like that Harry had that kind of control over him, and he couldn't let it show. He was relieved when Harry let go of his hand to wave his wand at the statue.

"Dissendium!" To Draco's surprise, the hump slid aside to reveal a dim staircase that led down to a secret passage. Begrudging to reveal that Harry kept on impressing him, though, he remained silent.

"Down we go," Harry said. And he stepped lightly into the darkness, holding out his hand for Draco to grab again and follow.

The passage forward was pitch black, but Harry's wand lit the way. Draco clenched the Gryffindor boy's hand, but in excitement, not fear. He loved dark, creepy passages. It reminded him of the cool comfort of the Slytherin common room, even if it lacked the splendor. And hell—dark, creepy passages always had secrets! They always led somewhere interesting.

Though Draco knew Hogsmeade was a bit of a walk, the passage was longer than he expected, all the more so for lacking a view. After a few minutes, the excitement of holding Harry's hand in a dark place got a little too intense to bear, and he had to break it up with some conversation.

"I've seen you in the mornings, Potter," he said, "running around the lake."

"Yeah," Harry said, and Draco could hear the smugness in his voice. "Every morning I get up and run a couple miles around the lake. Then I do some weightlifting."

Draco allowed his gaze to run up and down Harry's body, which even through his robes was tight and fit. "I can tell," he said, doing nothing to hide his leer.

The Slytherin boy's eyes did exactly what they meant to, and he saw Harry perk up and grin a little wider. If he reached out a hand to brush against Harry's dick, he'd be prepared to bet it was getting hard.

"It's no big deal," Harry said, not even trying to be modest despite his words. "I just… get up and do it."

"Mmhm," Draco said. "Trying to impress me, Potter?"

Harry scoffed, though he also blushed. "Impress you, Malfoy? I don't need to impress you."

"Yeah. Sure."

"I'm not trying to impress you," Harry pressed.

"Of course not," Draco smirked. "Because, what?—being yourself is enough to impress anyone?"

Harry averted his gaze by staring ahead at the dark passageway. "I'm going to stop speaking now."

Draco laughed and squeezed the boy's hand. He squirmed inwardly with delight when he saw the effect the extra pressure had on Harry. "You know, Potter? You're cute when you get flustered."

Harry turned away, but Draco saw his grin, and he saw the blush on the Gryffindor's cheeks deepen further. He quickened his pace, dragging the Slytherin along after him. For a little while they continued in silence, Draco feeling fuzzier than he could ever remember feeling, and Harry turning his face away to hide a bashful smile.

Damn, Draco! he thought to himself. This is more fun than getting him angry! I need to do this more often.

Though what he really, really wanted was to get Harry Potter both turned on and angry at the same time! Then maybe he'd grab Draco around the waist and thrust him up against the wall of this dark tunnel before kissing furiously at the back of his neck and ripping off his clothes. Draco could really go for that right about now!

Damn, damn, damn. Now Draco was turned on, too. He tried hard not to pay attention to his growing erection as it filled his black slacks, but the greater the effort he made, the more he thought about Harry easing a hand down in there to feel it. The more he tried not to, the more he thought about Harry setting down his wand and kneeling in the passage to take Draco full in his mouth. Maybe Harry would Nox his wand and leave them alone in the dark with only sensations and sounds to guide their ecstasy.

"We're here," Harry said suddenly, jerking Draco from his fantasy. And indeed, the passage had sloped up and come to an end at a trap door, which Harry slowly pushed up. "Coast clear," he whispered.

They lifted themselves out of the passage, first Harry then Draco, and into a cellar full of sweets and candies.

"Honeydukes?" Draco breathed, his eyes slowly bulging.

"Yup," Harry replied smugly.

"Holy hot Merlin!" Draco squealed. Before he could help himself, he lunged at a row of boxes, grabbing up an inappropriate amount of Honeydukes chocolate, Ice Mice, and Jelly Slugs to stuff into his bag. Then he grabbed a bag of Peppermint Toads and immediately popped one into his mouth.

He was deeply embarrassed to see that Harry was laughing at him. "Sweet tooth much, Malfoy?"

"So what if I've got one?" Draco pouted. "I like sweet things."

Harry kept chuckling as he carefully let down the trap door. "Honestly, Malfoy? That's adorable."

Draco bristled. Halfway through unwrapping another Peppermint Toad, he changed his mind and stuffed it in his bag with the rest of the sweets. "I'm not adorable, Potter!"

"Ssshh!" Harry warned him, leading him to the exit to the cellar and peeking out to make sure the coast was clear. And, just when Draco had quieted down, Harry spun around and added suddenly, "You shouldn't fight it, you know. I'm insanely attracted to adorable things."

"Watch it, Potter, or I'll hex you into oblivion!" Draco hissed back. But he also made a secret note to do more adorable things around Harry.

They slipped from the cellar and into the main store, and from there they skipped out of Honeydukes and onto the streets of Hogsmeade. It was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, and it was much quieter than Draco and Harry were used to. They saw only one other wizard out and about, but he strode swiftly for only a few feet before Apparating.

The Three Broomsticks was across the street and down the block. Harry and Draco took the walk at a meandering pace, neither of them in any hurry to hasten their time together. They no longer were holding hands, much to Draco's disappointment, and he found himself casting quick glances over at Harry's fingers. He wanted to reach out and grab them again, but he didn't. Instead, he kept the conversation going. And this time, he decided to go for something a little more serious.

"So… you're back to calling me Malfoy," he observed. "Whatever happened to Draco?"

When thinking of something to say, he'd been tempted to go for snark again because that was his forte, but he knew that he couldn't seduce Harry on good looks and snark alone. That was enough for a quick hate fuck, but he wanted more. He wanted to truly engage Harry. Maybe even enrapture him.

Harry turned to look at Draco, a slow smile spreading across his face. And it wasn't an impish expression, but a real smile. "I thought that was a special occasion," he said. "But if you want me to call you Draco, Draco, I will."

Draco felt a similar smile spread across his face, and a queer current of energy jolted from his heart throughout body. "Please. Call me Draco, Harry."

He wasn't used to feeling the way he felt. In fact, so foreign was it that he wasn't quite sure how to describe it. He thought he knew what happy was before, but maybe he was wrong. Or maybe he was just shedding the cloak of sarcasm he always wore. It's just… Draco wasn't used to feeling so genuine.

Careful, Draco! he warned himself. By Merlin's beard, be careful! Keep your eye on the prize—you're seducing him, not romancing him. He must fall for you, but you must not fall for him. Or… if you must fall, don't let it take over the plan! Fall a little, have some fun while you get the job done. And think about how delicious it'll feel to break his heart once you've got all the information you need out of him!

That sounded about right. Draco hummed a little as they crossed the street and entered the Three Broomsticks.

The pub was empty except for a warlock sitting alone at the bar. Madame Rosmerta herself wasn't even visible, though Draco could hear her clattering dishes in the back. The two schoolboys approached the bar, but Harry held up a hand. "Find us a table, Draco," he said. "I'll get the drinks."

"Bossy, aren't you?" Draco smirked. But he squirmed inwardly again. He fucking loved it.

Half-stepping and half-skipping across the pub, Draco picked out a table in the corner. From the distance it was half-hidden in shadows, but at the table itself it seemed adequately lit. It was the perfect place to have private conversation.

A minute later, Harry sidled over with two large butterbeers. Placing one down in front of Draco, he took a seat and slowly lifted the drink to his lips.

"Hey," Draco said when Harry set the Butterbeer back down. "You have a little bit on—" He reached over and brushed off a spot of creamy froth that clung to the corner of Harry's mouth. He allowed his touch to linger just where the lips met, but he pulled away the moment Harry opened his mouth. Then Draco settled back down in his seat and gave Harry a devilish grin.

Harry panted audibly, and he struggled to quickly collect himself. When he did, though, he looked straight at Draco, never letting his intense green eyes turn away from the Slytherin boy. "So, Draco… you wanted us to get to know each other better."

Draco took a slow, guarded sip of his butterbeer. "I said," he said, "that I don't feel comfortable kissing you again unless we know each other better."

"But you do want to kiss again."

A trace of a smile spread on Draco's lips. He nodded. "So what do you want to know about me?"

"Oh!" Harry said, a little taken aback. "Uh, I thought you'd ask about me first?"

Draco shook his head. "Nope, me first. Anyways, it's telling, what you're going to ask."

Harry leaned forward and said, with hardly a second's thought, "Why did you really start the Gay Straight Alliance?"

"Why do you think?' Draco said. "Because I'm fucking gay. I like dicks. I like men who like dicks, and I like people who like men who like dicks. And because there's no visibility of LGBT people in the Wizarding World, despite the long and valuable history that we carry. Remember the ancient Scottish spells I talked about yesterday?—the ones developed in large part by the queer and questioning warlocks of the highlands—the ones that tapped into the pure power of love and emotion instead of the tribal blood connections that most Wizarding spells rely on?"

"No," Harry said, "I don't remember that."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Ask Granger to give a recap, I know she fucking listened. The point is, though, LGBT witches and wizards are valuable to the Wizarding world. They make amazing contributions, but they get no recognition or respect. Did you know they're not even protected under the Wizarding Rights Act of 1964?"

"There's a Wizarding Rights Act?" Harry said, actually laughing at the idea. "It must be short as hell. I'm guessing other intelligent magical creatures aren't included."

"Maybe not," Draco said a little testily, "but it can be updated. Right now, it just protects witches and wizards based on gender, race, age, national origin, and disability."

"Disability? Can't they just take Skele-gro or some potion and return to normal?" Harry asked.

Draco threw Harry a withering look. "Some disabilities are magically induced, Harry. But anyway, we're getting off-topic. I started the club because I want to increase the awareness and respect of LGBT witches and wizards."

Draco was surprised by the amount of truth in what he said. Sure, he didn't actually start the club until his dad asked him too, and of course his main motive was to prove his value to the Dark Side. But Draco really did want the Wizarding world to accept gay people. He really was interested in educating the Hogwarts students.

And maybe that's why his explanation was so convincing. As much as it wasn't the whole story, it actually was true. And Harry bought it—he nodded understandingly, and he even leaned back and appraised Draco with an approving gaze.

"You're not all bad, Draco," Harry said. "Good for you—honestly!" He took another sip of butterbeer and set the glass down on the table, never letting go of it but keeping it at arm's length. And then he stared Draco down even more intensely than before. "But you'd tell anyone that. Tell me something else. Something you don't want others to know."

Draco sighed and played with his glass. He had known Harry would dig deeper. He thought of making something up, but he didn't want to run the risk. Harry wasn't the most perceptive student at Hogwarts, but he did have an uncanny instinct. Better to tell him something real—just nothing that would reveal Draco's plots.

"Well," he began slowly, "you know I have an easy life. My parents sort of spoil me, actually."

Harry nodded. "Yes, Draco, but everybody knows that."

"Shut your twat, Potter," Draco snapped. "Anyway… my parents give me nice things. I have money. I have the latest fashion trend in clothes. Anything I want to buy to look better or feel better, they make sure I get. Hell, when I asked, my father even gave me Nimbus 2001's for the whole Slytherin Quidditch team… as you'll well remember!"

"I sure do," Harry said sourly.

"They give me anything I want," Draco continued, "but I don't think they love me."

Harry didn't react to Draco's admission. He merely grasped his Butterbeer and kept his gaze locked on Draco. "What do you mean, they don't love you?"

"I mean, I think mom did… does… did. Since I left for school, she's lost her edge. Probably because of the company my father keeps. I guess she's out of her element, and with me gone, she doesn't really have much left. She drinks craft cocktails from 8:00 in the morning til midnight. I think she also sneaks off to London and finds Muggle designer drugs and goes to sex clubs. I found some dodgy receipts in her purse one time when I went in to nick some galleons."

"Not much of a silver lining, but at least she's open-minded enough to mingle with Muggles?" Harry offered up.

"Don't be silly," Draco snapped. "She just does it because the Wizarding world is too small for that kind of behavior. If you go to a Wizarding sex club, people know."

"Oh. Yeah. That makes sense." Harry leveled a sympathetic gaze at Draco. "That's really rough. What about your dad?"

Draco sighed and shrugged. "He just… acts like he made a mistake, giving birth to me. Throws money at me like if he throws enough, I'll go away like any other problem he can spend out of existence. I dunno, I'm probably being stupid. I know I sound like a spoiled brat, saying that. Who wouldn't want the money I have?"

Harry nodded slowly and took a long, slow sip of butterbeer. "And that's why you don't tell anyone. You don't want to sound even more spoiled and ungrateful than we already think you are."

"I mean, you don't have to put it like that," Draco said, "but yeah."

"Well… I have a lot of money, just like you. And I know what it's like to grow up unloved. And I understand: money doesn't make it better. Money's nice—I can buy what I want, and I never have to worry about making ends meet. But money is a poor substitute for love. It doesn't even compare."

Draco nodded and tried not to sigh again. He thought he'd feel sadder than he did, revealing this to Harry, but he honestly felt more relieved. He didn't tell anyone these kinds of things. Crabbe and Goyle were too dumb to exist, and everyone else in Slytherin used secrets as currency. He hated to think how much his home problems were worth. It was actually a huge relief to let this off his chest, particularly with someone like Harry.

He hated to admit it, but Harry was more like him than he previously thought. If anyone could understand being rich but unloved, it was Harry. He didn't really trust the Gryffindor, but he also knew him to be the noble type. Harry wouldn't gossip about this. And if he did tell anyone, Draco would just claim it was a lie that Harry made up. They had enough of a history as rivals for people to believe this.

After a long gulp of butterbeer, it was Draco's turn to stare Harry down. "You're up now, Harry. Tell me all the secrets you keep to yourself and yourself alone."

"I have best friends who love me," Harry said. "I tell them everything."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Then tell me something you'd tell only them! And don't whine about how your relatives hate you and deprived you as a youngster. Everyone knows that."

"Well damn, thanks for putting that delicately," Harry said sardonically. He took a sip of butterbeer, then set his glass down and looked at Draco.

Then he took another sip of butterbeer, set his glass down again, and looked back at Draco. For a second he turned his head towards the ceiling, his gaze flickering with it for three quick blinks, and then he was looking at Draco again, calculating.

"You say you want to know me, Draco?" he said.

Draco nodded.

"Are you quite sure you want to know me?" Harry pressed. "Are you positive?—the good and the bad?"

Draco nodded. When Harry said it like that, of course he was damn fucking positive. The buildup only made him want it more.

Harry took a bit of a breath, steeling himself. His poise had become unnaturally still, and his eyes were wider and fiercer than before. And yet for once he had trouble holding Draco's gaze, though he forced himself to maintain it.

"I was in a bad way, Draco, at the beginning of the summer. You read the papers—you know about the fight at the Department of Mysteries and the death of Sirius Black. He was my godfather—closest thing I ever had to a real parent that can remember. He was gone, and Voldemort was back.

"I've fought him so many times, Draco, and I know I'm going to face him again. It won't stop until he kills me. That's all I could think about this summer. That, and Sirius's death. That, and how alone I was with the Dursleys again. All I could think of was how much I lost, and of how much I still had left to lose."

Draco marveled at Harry's ability to hold back his tears. The Gryffindor's words came as if he'd said them a thousands times in his head before he'd said them out loud. Draco imagined he must have dwelt over this for hours on end, day after day, before he finally told anyone. Even now, the memories seemed to be eating at Harry.

"The first day back at the Dursleys this summer was the worst in my life," Harry continued quietly. "This time, more than any other time, I realized how much danger I was in… and how much danger my friends were in for being around me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't think I could keep them around anymore.

"I don't know how to describe it, Draco—the depths of despair I sunk to. I'm a Gryffindor—I'm supposed to be brave! But I wasn't. Over my first day back, I grew increasingly afraid until I became absolutely paralyzed by it. I didn't know how to kill Voldemort. I didn't think I would be able to. And I couldn't bear to let everyone down like that, so I thought… well, I thought I might as well take charge myself of the way things ended."

Draco's grasp around his mug grew tighter and tighter with each passing sentence. His brow furrowed deep as he slowly said, "What do you mean by that, Harry?"

Fierce green eyes a pool of pain.

"At the end of that first day, when night came, I untied the rope that bound my trunk, fixed it around the clothes rack in my closet, and tried to hang myself."

It was an awful silence that followed these words. As much as he tried to stop himself, Draco felt his eyes go wide and his mouth fall open. His chest seized up a little, and his hands became unnaturally still. He didn't know what to do next, or how to act. For once in his life, he was truly, utterly lost for words.

When he didn't speak, Harry ground on, his shoulders slumping and his eyes turning down towards his butterbeer. "I… I measured the rope many times, made sure it was the right length. I took a chair and set it up just under the clothes rack. I would kick it away, and I would plummet to the ground and stop with my feet just inches above the floorboards. And that would be that.

"I stood on the chair with the rope around my neck and looked out at my room. I remember the clock on my bedside table read 11:11. So I made a wish… wished that I wasn't dooming the side of the Light by stepping out of the fight like this, wished that my friends would get through this. Wished that I could see my parents and Sirius again. Then I kicked out the chair from underneath me, and it toppled out into my bedroom."

Harry fell silent for a moment, blinking at his butterbeer. Draco could see his long, black eyelashes flicking away the tears that threatened to fall. Through Draco's prolonged shock, he managed to find his first words. "And then what happened?"

Harry gave a little shrug. "I woke up the Dursleys."

"Um… what? What do you mean, you woke up the Dursleys? What about the fucking rope? What about hanging yourself?"

"Oh, that. Yeah, it didn't work."

And Harry finally lifted his butterbeer glass and took a long swig.

"Damn it, Harry, that's not good enough. Go into more detail. I wasn't there—I can't magically put together the rest of the scene in my head!"

Harry actually chuckled at this. It was perhaps the saddest chuckle Draco ever heard, but it was nevertheless a relief to hear. "When I fell, the clothes rack broke in half. It took half of the shelves in the closet with it. All of Dudley's old clothes, all of the Dursleys' Christmas ornaments and old linens and little figurines… it all fell down, and I landed in a heap in their midst.

"And that's how the Dursleys found me. I managed to get the rope off from around my neck just before they burst into the room, thank god. But Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia screamed at me for nearly half an hour over the mess I made. Dudley just stood there looking shocked. I think it was awful, but by that point I was too stricken by my botched attempt at suicide to even pay attention to what they were saying. I think Uncle Vernon might have thrown a few things at me—I dunno."

Harry hmm'd and took another sip of butterbeer. Draco absently took a quick drink as well, still staring intensely at the Gryffindor boy sitting across from him. "And then what? Did you try to kill yourself again?"

"Once more," Harry said, "a few days later. My scar was hurting really bad, so I took an aspirin from the Dursleys' medicine cabinet. Then I took another, and then another. And I just… I sorta ate the whole bottle. Not all at once—I took it up to my bedroom with me and ate it over the course of 30 minutes, half-hoping I'd get sick before I finished it, half-hoping I'd overdose."

"So you got sick? What happened?"

Harry shook his head. "Absolutely nothing. My headache didn't even go away—in fact, it got worse. I guess aspirin doesn't work on wizards."

"And what kept you from trying again?" Draco pressed.

"After the first time, I was so ashamed at my failure, and I was too wrapped up in feeling sorry for myself that I just wanted to finish what I started. But when I failed second time, I figured it was a sign. Maybe it was my own magic trying to tell me something. Also, I got my first letters from Ron and Hermione hardly an hour after I finished the bottle. I felt so fucking guilty for trying to kill myself when I had friends like them, I promised myself I'd never try again."

Harry turned his gaze back towards Draco and finally looked him in the eye again. The tears were gone, and he looked more at peace, if a little tired. "Don't worry, Draco, I'm better now. I was able to leave the Dursleys, and my friends really helped me get over my grief and back into my usual fight mode. I'm really lucky to have them."

Draco inhaled a long, deep breath, then let it out in a whoosh. "Excuse me for one moment, Harry," he said.

He stood up and went over to the bar and flagged down Madame Rosmerta. "Two juniper gins on the rocks, please," he said. She opened her mouth, probably about to refuse serving alcohol to minors on a school day, but he plunked down far more Galleons than the drinks were actually worth, so she closed her mouth and nodded.

"Coming right up," she said, pulling out two tumblers, filling them with ice, and then pouring them to the brim with straight gin. Draco thanked her and took the two drinks back to his table.

"Sip this, Harry," he said. "Don't be the twat that downs quality gin in one gulp."

Harry acquiesced, managing to break a sincere smile. "You're adorable when you try to be bossy," he said.

Draco let the comment go, but only because he had to say, "Damn, Harry. You Gryffindors really go all out. I must admit, I wasn't expecting this when we came out here to 'get to know each other.' "

Harry's smile developed an impish edge to it. "I hope it earned me another kiss."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Sweet Merlin, Harry. If you'd do all that for a kiss, I'd hate to see what you do to fuck me."

He smirked as Harry's mouth fell open at the idea of them fucking. Harry had to shake his head a few times to clear his thoughts. "You better brace yourself, Draco," he said, his voice quavering. "You don't know how far I can go!"

He took a long sip of his gin, shuddering a bit as he swallowed the burning liquid. Then he became serious again, and he reached out to grab a hold of Draco's hand. "Really, though, Draco. Thanks for listening."

Draco nodded slowly and squeezed Harry's hand. "Yeah. Anytime."

Over the next half-hour they finished their gin. For a few minutes they drank in silence, and then they broke into small talk. Draco complained about how fucking stupid Crabbe and Goyle were. Harry talked about how Colin Creevey and Terry Boot were seen kissing at the party last night. It was easy and fun. Even when they left the Three Broomsticks, entered Honeydukes, and sneaked back into the secret passage, they kept up conversation.

But even as he talked about his plans for next week's Gay Straight Alliance, Draco couldn't keep his mind off their conversation in The Three Broomsticks. It was a little surprising, how much the two of them shared with each other. But even more so, it scared him.

He'd always been fascinated with Harry, even when he hated him. But the hatred and jealousy was melting away, and Draco was still fascinated. This boy was not a stuck-up celebrity like Draco had always made himself believe. This boy had been through so much for someone his age. Harry Potter was truly a brave wizard.

And for the very first time, Draco felt ashamed of his family's association with the Dark Side. Yes, he'd always seen Purebloods as better, and yes, he's always seen the people on the Light Side as weak and lovey-dovey and insipid. But how could Voldemort want to kill someone like Harry? How could anyone?

For the very first time, Draco felt his envy of Harry give way to respect. Now he really wanted that Gryffindor boy around. Now he really wanted to succeed in his seduction plot. Sure, he was still trying to steal secrets from Harry to prove to his father that he was worth something to the Dark Side. But at least now Harry was truly a worthy adversary!

And hopefully a fantastic fuck.

Just before they reached the statue of the one-eyed witch, Draco took a hold of both of Harry's hands. "Here, Harry," he said, "you deserve this."

And he drew him in for a long, slow kiss. He used tongue, and he moved his hands slowly but assuredly over Harry's strong body, feeling the muscles that rippled along his chest and shoulders. His fingers came to a rest in the small of Harry's back, just above his perfectly-sloped arse.

Then Draco broke it off. Harry moaned as their lips parted, and he refused to stop his hands from stroking Draco's ribs and running down to the Slytherin's waistline. Draco longed to let him go further, be he forced himself to stop. He prodded his wand at the trapdoor above them and said, "Dissendium!"

The statue moved aside, allowing Draco to climb out into the brightly-lit Hogwarts hall. He held a hand out to Harry, who climbed out after him, and they stood together for a moment longer.

Then the bell rang, signaling the end of the classes for the day. Draco gave Harry one last kiss on the cheek and whispered into his ear, "See you later, Harry."

Later that evening, Harry called his friends for a meeting in the Room of Requirement. He got there first, just after 7:00. He told his friends to be there at 7:30, so he called for Dobby, who appeared with an eager pop.

"What is you wanting today, Harry?" Dobby crowed.

"Another drink," Harry said promptly.

"What is you meaning by another drink?"

"Oh, er… I mean, a drink. My first drink of the day, Dobby."

"But of course!" Dobby said. "Do you want two, or just one?"

Harry almost said two, but stopped himself just in time. "I'd better do no more than one, Dobby," he said. "But make it strong."

Dobby acquiesced with all delight, and in five seconds flat he was back with long stemmed glass, filled to the brim with a sparkly liquid. "Sparkling white rum and ginger!" he said proudly, shoving the glass in Harry's hand. "Drink up, now!-you is a growing boy!"

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said. "Oh, and quick question. I just need a bit of advice."

"Harry is wanting to ask me for advice?" Dobby swooned, his wide eyes growing even wider.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I don't know if you have any experience in this sort of thing, but… if you're trying to sleep with someone and you tell them personal details in an effort for them to know you better, so they feel more comfortable going to bed with you… well, can you go too far?"

Dobby cocked his large head. "Is Harry trying to ask… can you tell them details that is being too personal?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

Dobby shook his head, his ears flapping and his nose trembling. "I is not thinking so. I is thinking it is good to share a lot. I is wanting to have sex with Winky, so I is telling her about Dobby's life and all about how I is crying and depressed when my parents died, and how I is always wanting another elf to hold at night in the bed, and it is working! Now Winky and I is having not just sex with our penis and vagina, but we is also having sex inside each other's butts! And Winky is also open to having a threesome with me and Clockles!"

"Um… thanks," Harry said. "That… that helps."

"Anything for the great Harry Potter!" Dobby said. "Dobby can go into more detail, if you is wanting."

Harry threw up a hand and shook his head. "No no, Dobby. Thanks, you gave enough detail already. It was, um, a lot of detail to work with."

"Good!" Dobby said. "I is glad it helps. And I is thinking that whoever you is trying to put your penis into is being happy that they is soon to be getting Harry Potter's man milk! If it were me, I is being happy to be full of Harry Potter penis!"

"Uhhhh… Dobby? I appreciate the sentiment. Also, good god—I'll need that other drink after all, and please make it even stronger. And then, um, I need a little time alone."

After Dobby got him another drink, and after Harry purged the revulsion of the idea of him fucking the overeager house-elf, he sunk down into the little armchair that the Room of Requirement had provided him, and he mulled over his afternoon with Draco.

He didn't know what possessed him to go into such detail with Draco Malfoy. He didn't know why he even wanted to. All he knew was that, as much as he'd be happy to plug the Slytherin up the butt and bang a load into him, he wanted even more to do things right. He actually wanted the Slytherin feel that this was more than just a seduction plot. He wanted the Slytherin to feel like Harry actually cared.

I mean, I don't actually care! Harry told himself. This is a scheme, after all. This is an effort to find out Draco's plans for the Dark Side, and fucking him along the way is an added benefit. But I want to make him feel really good before I have to break his heart.

At 7:30, his friends arrived, and the room provided them with a few more armchairs. By now, Harry had started on the second drink, and he was a little tipsy.

"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed when she entered and saw him with his rum-and-ginger. "It's a school night."

"And what was yesterday?" Ginny said sardonically. "The apocalypse? Dobby?" she clapped her hands, and the house-elf appeared. "Could you get me one of those, too, please?"

"And me!" Ron butted in. Hermione glared and him, and he quickly added, "Please? What, Hermione, why are you still glaring? I said please!"

Neville and Luna held off, as did Hermione, but Dobby got Ron and Ginny drinks, and once they were all settled, Harry began speaking.

"Sorry, Hermione," he said, "but I lied to you this afternoon. I didn't have a thing with Dumbledore."

"Oh?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but I did something better! I went out with Draco!"

"Aww!" Ginny squealed around a mouthful of rum and ginger. "That's adorable!"

"It's part of the plot," Ron corrected, screwing up his face, "not adorable."

"Was it… like a date?" Hermione tried to clarify.

"Well… not exactly. But we went to The Three Broomsticks and got to know each other better."

"How did you get there, though?" Hermione asked. "It's not a Hogsmeade weekend. It's not even a weekend, for that matter."

"We took the passageway behind the One-Eyed Witch," Harry said.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione sighed, disappointed. "You didn't show Malfoy that passage, did you? We're supposed to be the only ones that know about that! Not even Filch knows."

Damn it. That had completely escaped Harry's mind, and now he felt dumb. That secret passage sort of was a big deal, and he'd completely ignored caution and gone ahead and shown Draco. But he hated to admit his mistake, especially one as glaring as this. "C'mon, Hermione," he said weakly, "it got us out to Hogsmeade, and we got some extended alone time together. I'm making some real headway here!"

"Still, though," Ginny said slowly, "that's sort of risky, showing him the passageway."

"What's he going to do about it?" Harry waffled.

"Tell the Death Eaters?" Neville said.

"They might come through Honeydukes at night and kill us all," Luna pointed out logically.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat and turned to Ron wordlessly for some support. But his best friend shrugged and said, "Hate to admit it, mate, but they have a point. It's a pretty risky move you pulled there. I really hope it was worth it."

"It was!" Harry said earnestly, imbuing as much excitement into his voice as possible to win them back. "It really, really was. We talked a lot, and I found out a whole lot about him, and when we got back at the end, we kissed again!"

Hermione shifted in her armchair and stared Harry down. "What exactly did you find out about him?"

"A lot about his home life," Harry said. "His mom's an alcoholic who sneaks off to Muggle London and does drugs and fucks Muggles in sex clubs. And his dad doesn't love him."

Ron and Ginny tittered at the idea of Mrs. Malfoy in a sex club. Luna and Neville also perked up at this level of juicy gossip. Hermione, however, was more reserved as she said, "Okay. You've got some personal ammunition we could use against him. Good for you, Harry. But what about his motive for starting the Gay Straight Alliance? His real motive? And what about any of the Dark Side's secrets?-did you get any of those?"

"I'm… I'm closing in on that," Harry said uncomfortably. "I think a few more days and I could get that out of him."

"We really need that," Hermione said formally, "or letting him know about that secret passage would not have been worth it."

Harry nodded bashfully. "I'll… I promise I'll get that information from him." He sunk into his armchair and tried not to sulk. He'd been so excited about this afternoon, and in two minutes all his glory had been deflated. But hey—he was the one doing all the work! He was the one seducing Malfoy. The others were there for support, as usual, and they didn't understand that these things needed to be done delicately.

"Good," Hermione said. "Now… you said you two went to The Three Broomsticks to get to know each other better? Obviously Draco Malfoy talked a lot about his home life. But what did you tell him?"

"Honestly," Harry said dishonestly, "I didn't tell him anything. I just listened to him go on and on about his home life (you know how self-centered he can be), and I think he's just really taken by the fact that he can finally talk to someone about it."

This time it was more than a white lie to make himself appear better, and this time around Harry felt truly guilty for not telling them the truth. But come on! His friends were already upset enough that he'd let Draco know where the secret passage was. Not that he'd been planning on it before, but there was definitely no way now that he'd let them know he'd also told Draco about his suicide attempts.

That'd be just plain dumb. No, what he really needed to do now was focus on seducing Draco. This was his job and his alone. His friends were great support, and they could give him great ideas, but from this point onward, there would be a lot he'd have to hold close to the chest. There would be a lot they wouldn't understand.

A/N: Oh my god, I'm so sorry, you all! I know it's been a month since I last posted. Even worse, I'm actually quite a few chapters ahead of what I'm posting, and I finished another chapter or two in that time. So there's really no excuse on my part—just a lot of traveling this past month, and I haven't had time to edit and post.

I'll post again very soon to make up for it. In the meantime, leave a review, even if it's just to tell me to get off my lazy ass and post more!