"Detention Potter, tonight!"
An angry sigh answered the piercing scream. Looking at his nemesis Draco could not help but think that Potter was the biggest nuisance of the century. One would have learnt after a few days, a week at most, that confronting Umbridge was the best way to end up in detention with the hateful woman, but no...The boy of wonder was too stupid to remember to stay silent more than two days. He could not keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it. And now, his Majesty the Prince of Scarred Freaks was at the verge of exploding, if the pulsing vein in his neck was to be believed. Not that Draco cared, an evening of detention meant an evening free to roam the castle without being harassed.
The blonde teen turned a page of his book, pretending to read. Inside, he was fuming. Since that fateful day on the Quidditch pitch, Potter had been restless. Every time Draco was alone more than a few minutes, he would appear out of nowhere, whispering inane words in his ears. Sometimes, he would not even utter a word, and just stare at him with an appreciative smile. A smile that was screaming 'I want to eat you for my dessert, with a tad of Chantilly and maybe a cherry or two'.
Draco hated that smile. It made him feel like a chased prey, defenceless as a bunny.
What could he do? Draco could not out Potter without risking a backlash on his own reputation. Potty could claim that he had been seduced by Draco, or that it was a blatant lie to hide his own tendencies... Even if Scarhead kept his mouth shut - which Draco very much doubted -, the wizarding world would automatically consider that the Slytherin had been sullied by the attention of another man. No it was too risky. Draco had to deal with it, privately.
But how? Insults were not working. Making his disgust obvious did not help either. What could he do? Draco sighed. This question was obsessing him since days, but he could not find any answer. He knew that Potter was not bluffing his interest, he could almost still sense his hardness under him. Draco could only blame himself for that. He had been provoking him for weeks after the bathroom incident, too afraid to be humiliated to notice the weird behaviour of the Boy who Lived. And now, the situation had grown out of hands. Being mean was his only resort to defend himself against Potter weirdness. And somehow, it was not working... Perhaps being meaner would help?
"Mister Malfoy? A word, if you please."
Draco cringed. The Toad was smiling at him in the most disturbing manner. The slytherin stayed behind while a wave of happy students crashed on the corridors, taking his nightmare with the flow.
"Now my dear, why don't you sit?"
Draco obeyed, remaining silent. He knew that woman was up to no good, his father had warned him, ordering him to stay in her good side.
"Mister Malfoy, Draco - may I call you Draco, dear? Brilliant -, as I'm sure you've noticed, this school is... plagued by lunatics. I just started to clean it where professors are concerned however I find myself dreading that some of the students are far more dangerous than a divination teacher. You certainly know who I am talking about, don't you, Draco?"
"Potter, Professor." Draco almost marvelled at how his voice sounded disinterested while the simple mention of this name made his inside boil in hatred and disgust.
"Oh Draco, I see we share the same concerns dear. I was right to consider you for this particular task." She transfigurated some tea with a ridiculously pleased laugh. "You see, it has come to my knowledge that Mister Potter has started a little rebellious group, on the instigation of Dumbledore himself. Isn't that preposterous? Imagine if this idea of rebellion was spreading in the student body, using some ridiculous rumours to recruit them. Ah! The Dark's Lord return, what kind of twisted joke is that?"
Draco nodded. On a plate hanging on the wall behind Umbridge, two kitten were viciously fighting.
"My dear Draco, I am sure you understand that I just cannot let this behaviour slide. Potter is too dangerous for the students. That is why I had a wonderful idea. I am selecting a few trusted students to keep the order and to hunt down Potter. I am forming an Inquisitorial Squad."
One of the kitten had lost the fight and was lying on his back. He looked dead. Umbridge smiled with glee.
"Would you like to be the head of the Squad, my dear?"
Head of a squad in charge of making Potter's life miserable? Draco smiled coldly.
"It would be an honour, Professor." He said.
The kitten did not even twitch.
The slytherin common room was almost empty. It was the last day of the semester and most of the students were busy packing their belongings. Draco however had already done so during the day and was sitting in front of the common room, face blank and eyes staring into the fire.
Tomorrow, he would go back to Malfoy Manor. A weird sensation nestled in his stomach. His father had sent him cryptic letters. Some hinted at the arrival of an important guest, some at how he was expected to behave as the perfect Malfoy heir. Nothing had been clearly written down but the teen was almost sure of it: the Dark Lord was back, and would visit his family.
Draco was not sure he welcomed this turn of event. Sure, he was excited at the idea to meet the greatest dark wizard of the century. However, something that he admitted only in the safety of his thoughts, he was scared. Shitless scared. What if he disappointed the Dark Lord or his parents? What if he was not deemed strong enough to be part of their circle? What if he was overlooked in favour of any other slytherin student? His whole empire would crumble in a few weeks at most. He could not allow that. He had to be the best.
The Return of the Dark Lord... Draco chuckled softly. To think that Potter had actually been right the whole time about it. The truth was a sweet syrup that tasted like revenge for the blond teen.
Potter. He had not seen the Gryffin nuisance in a while. Almost two weeks had passed since the last incident. That was a welcome change. Ignoring his inner voice that accused him to search troubles, he blond had even tried a few bold moves, such as roaming int the corridors alone, stay up late to study in the library, but the distinctive mop of black hair stayed out of sight. He even went as far as going to the Prefect Bathroom, ignoring the hollow voice in the back of his head accusing him of searching and ravel in Potter's freakish attentions. Draco snorted. As if.
A few young snakes entered the common room, giggling softly. Running after each other, they were soon in the dorms, leaving the blond teen alone. His glaze was still glued to the fire. Draco hated christmas at Hogwarts. The decorations dripping from every armour, the constant goofy mood of his peers, it was disgusting. In the middle of the tornado of cheerfulness, Draco felt utterly alone. Like he was currently feeling, sitting by himself in the too cold common room, alone and bored out of his mind.
Watching the fire claiming the last bit of wood, Draco's mind eventually drifted back to Potter in a burst of rage. Despite the calm, Draco was growing restless. Scarhead was up to something, he was sure of it.
"Malfoy?" A soft voice took him back into the realm of the living. A small girl was standing a few feet away from the coach. Unsure and uncomfortable, she was swaying on her feet. Draco lifted an eyebrow at the intruder.
"Parkinson spotted Potter going to the 7th floor, again. She told me you would be interested."
"Thank you, Greengrass. That is indeed useful. On behalf of the Inquisitorial Squad, I thank you." The haughty tone did note betray his inner turmoil. The small girl nodded once and left.
Draco smirked. The timing was perfect. He would catch Potter and destroy his little club as a wonderful early christmas gift. Without rushing, he went into his dormitory to retrieve a shimmery fabric. Using Potty's possession against him, that was a nice prelude to the expulsion of the little lion's club.
Hidden under the invisibility cloak, Draco slowly made his way to the seventh floor, an infuriating smile glued on his face. On the last few stairs, Zacharias Smith rushed past him. As silent as ghost, the Slytherin tagged along. The idiot would be the key to Potter. He followed him through the corridor, stopping in front of a large wooden door. Smith entered, an invisible Draco on his heels.
The room was huge. It reminded Draco of the Malfoy's Ballroom, drowning in incredibly distasteful christmas decorations . However, the blond's attention did not dwell on the hideous ornaments. More than twenty students were circling a puppet Death Eater, throwing hexes at him at an incredible speed. Draco gulped, incredibly happy to be concealed by the magic fabric. Trying to stay as discreet as possible, he slowly went in a corner and sat there, barely breathing. His heart was pounding in his chest like a caged animal. Praying that no one would discover him, he observed the meeting.
Slightly withdrawn from the attacking circle, Potter was checking a shabby piece of parchment. He was frowning.
"Harry!" Granger's smile did not erase the frown "Everyone is there, we can begin."
"Sure Hermione." Potter whistled loudly, making every other students look at him. "Hello everyone, and welcome to the last meeting of the Dumbledore's Army of the semester!"
Draco almost chocked. Dumbledore's army? No wonder Umbridge was over her heels at the idea of that club. The Dunderhead knew how to piss her off.
"Alright folks, we will not learn a new spell today. Instead, I would like that you form a group of three and revise the spells we covered since the beginning of the DA."
The students complied as if Potter's words were magic. After a few minutes, they were all throwing spells at each others face. Impediments jinces, stunners, wards, jellylegs jinxes were flying in the room. While he would never admit it out loud, Draco was impressed. They were far from perfect, but they could defend themselves, if needed. Draco's stomach did yet another backflip: that was more than he could do.
As the lesson flew by, Draco resigned himself to three facts. One, he would have to wait for the end of the meeting to escape. Second, despite all his others flaws, Potter was a good teacher. A good leader, even. They were all listening to him with eagerness, all ears out for a little piece of advice here and there. Even Longbottom had improved beyond recognition. Third, he was far behind. Hidden in the shadows of the Room of Requirement, Draco vowed to surpass them all.
The meeting finally ended after what felt like hours. Cramps due to immobility were slowly killing the blond teen. One by one, the students left, biding goodbye and a merry christmas to their leader. The Golden Trio collected the cushions and stacked them neatly away. Draco waited, eager to leave, until Potter was left alone with the Ravenclaw seeker. Chang something. Draco had noticed she had been beaming at Potty the whole lessons.
Chang let out a hearty sniff. In the blink of an eye, tears were pouring down her face.
"What's up?" Potter asked, clearly uncomfortable.
She shocked her head and wiped her eyes, mumbled something about the death of Diggory that could have been avoided by learning a few jinxes. Draco felt the urge to roll his eyes, disgusted by the display playing in front of him. He was still thoroughly enjoying the look of pain flashing on Potter's face, delicate ornament to his general awkwardness.
"If Voldemort really wants to kill you, you don't stand a chance." Potter's voice was cold, freezing Draco's gut.
"But you survived!"
"Yeah, well... Mere luck." Potter was growing more and more uncomfortable with each minute, his eyes frequently looking everywhere in the room but at her. The Slytherin teens had the disturbing impression the other teen was looking in his direction more than in the others. He stopped breathing. Was he too noisy? Had he been discovered?
"Mistletoe." said Chang, quietly, pointing at the ceiling over her head.
"Yeah..." Harry answered. "It's probably full of Nargles."
She laughed weakly and stepped closer. Draco's eyes grew bigger. Was she really hitting on him?
"I really like you, Harry."
She was hitting on him! Draco's heart clenched. What a disgusting thought. He felt his entire body lit up by a cold rage. Potter was not moving, he seemed to be petrified. The crying girl moved a step closer. How could he not move. That.. that freak! He was leading her, making her believe she had a chance with him! Draco forced himself to stay silent. He could not reveal himself. Not now. He had seen how good they could be a few minutes ago, and was still outnumbered.
Inhaling sharply, he watched as she leaned towards Potter, mesmerised. He felt a jolt in his gut when she pressed their lips together. Awkwardly, the raven haired teen hugged her half heartedly.
After a few seconds, the girl withdrew slightly. She started to sob, loudly.
"Cho..." started Harry, unsure.
"Harry, I... I" she stammered, looking at the door. "I...I..." Unable to say a word, she fled.
Draco felt instantly relieved. Potter let his face fall in his hand in a desperate posture. What a shameful scene. The blond almost snorted but held back at the last second.
"Malfoy." Potter's voice was harsh. He slowly raised his head. "I know you are here."
What? How! Draco could not believe his hears. Had he betrayed himself. Did one of his foot show out of the invisibility cloak? No, he was safely tucked under it. Potter must be trying his luck. He just had to stay silent. He had no possibility to know where he was.
Trying not to breath and ignoring the loud thumps in his chest, Draco watched as Potter slowly retrieved a shabby parchment piece on the floor. He whispered a few words that the Slytherin could not catch.
"I know you're here. Do both of us a favour and show yourself" Potter lifted his head from the parchment, looking right were Draco was sitting. A smile of a Cheshire cat in front of his prey spread on his face. "Unless you prefer to play hide and seek... Come on Malfoy, let's play together."
Draco searched frantically in his pocket. Empty. He had forgotten his wand. His body froze in panic as Potter slowly stepped towards him.
"Little Malfoy came to play... Let's try to find you, shall we? Little Malfoy came to play... I think I found you." he said, in a mocked playful tone.
How could he know? Draco gulped.
He was defenceless.
Suddenly, Potter tore the cloak away, discovering him.
The horrendous smile grew bigger. The raven-haired teen took Draco's shirt in his hand and lifted the blond up on his feet.
"Found you" he purred, pushing the teen against the wall.
Their faces were not even an inch apart. Draco was trapped, terrified. How could he forget his wand? What could he do? He had to get rid of Potter now! But there was no escape. Potter's frame was blocking every escape route. And these eyes, they were too shiny, too close. Draco turned his head away from them, unable to withstand their intensity.
Potter laughed. "Now we can play."
Draco let out a yelp of surprise when lips attacked his neck. No! He could not allow it. He tried to push Potter away, but the other was blocking him. The lips continued their attacks with ardour.
"Let me go! Let me go!" he screamed.
But the other did not listen to him. Instead, Potter started to rub his hip between his legs.
"Come one Malfoy, why should I let you go? You were the one who sought me out in the first place..." His tongue trailed Malfoy's jaw. Fist clenched, Draco shut his eyes. He could fell his stomach jump backyard. "You sought me out, because you want this. You want me. Even more than I want you."
"No. No, it's not true, let me go." His plea was growing weaker.
Soon, Potter's lips were on his own, imposing a forceful kiss. It was rough, desperate. Draco felt like burning and jumping in a bath full of ice at the same time. Disgust and disbelief were overpowering him. And this feeling... It was like having a fire in the pit of his stomach. It was like going to hell and back and to hell again.
"Little Malfoy came here to play..." Potter whispered in his ear as one of his hand trailed down Draco's chest. The Slytherin's eyes grew bigger. What was he going to do?
The hand stopped on his crotch and slowly started to massage his member through the heavy fabric of his pants. Draco let out strangled desperate noise. Nausea was overcoming him. He felt ready to puke. To Draco's utter mortification, he felt his shaft growing hard under the attention.
Sensing the answer too, Potter stopped his ministration and leaned against the blond. "Little Malfoy came here to play." he said, in the same mocked playful tone. "You want me." Draco shivered. He wanted to scream no, that it was the freak's fault, that he was not a deviant, not a pervert, that he was at the verge of throwing up from disgust.
Potter looked at him, his smile wider than ever. He slowly kissed the blond one last time. Draco felt ready to cry.
"You want me. " he said, stepping back. He took the cloak and the piece of parchment. Draco did not answer, too shaken to say anything.
Potter opened the door, ready to leave, but turned back.
"You want me. I won." he said, before disappearing, melting in the shadows of the corridors.
Left alone in the secret room, Draco put his arms around his shacking chest and let himself slide on the cold stone of the floor.
He screamed.
And then he cried.
Review makes me happy.