So, back on track, here's a new chapter. Also, if we could breach at least 105 reviews, it would be brilliant because I know a lot of people are reading this story but giving no feedbacks, and that's what we FF authors need! I love you for adding it to your favourites and story alerts, but I'd love some reviews too !
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Chapter 10 Coming HomeHis lungs where being squashed, all air in them being squeezed out as he travelled through the limbo between Disapparition and Apparition. His world came to a sudden halt, and Harry staggered onto his feet as they touched onto the dead grass of the little square opposite the row of houses. He checked over his shoulder and half ran to the other side of the road only to stop in front of the no's 11 and 13. His heart was beating so frantically against his chest, Harry thought it might jump out from under his skin and onto the road. His mind was working over time, trying to process everything that had happened that evening.
Shivering against the cold air, he drew his wand, double checking for any Muggles. He stood like that for a few moments, feeling like an utter fool, because he then realised that he did not know how to summon the house.
"Er, Headquarter of the Order of the Phoenix, 12 Grimmauld Place?", he tried, remembering the piece of parchment Moody had made him read so long ago. Nothing happened.
"Right", he sighted, passing a shaking hand through his hair, desperately thinking up a combination. It was a cold night and he was beginning to shiver. "Harry Potter, Heir to the House of Black?" Still nothing. The boy began pacing in front of where the road should be, racking through his memories of when he was in the house, looking for a clue. Maybe something only know to the family? Like a motto?
"Toujours pur", he said into the night, and this time with a deafening clatter of metal, the old house revealed itself to him. He ran up to the front door, tapped it with his wand, slipped in and slammed the door behind himself. He stood in the same dark and dusty hall, unchanged since the last time he had been here. With a flick of his wand, he lit the filth incrusted crystal chandelier and made his way upstairs to the room where Dobby had left his trunk.
He climbed the rickety staircase up to the room he had shared with Ron, but when he opened it, it was empty and the beds where bare. Frowning, he continued his search, opening every door he came across. Finally, after climbing up three stories, he found a warded door, which could only mean that his things where there. He disabled the wards Dobby had set up for him and opened the door. His eyes bulged when he walked into a very cosy looking room, the grate lit with a roaring fire. The room was covered from floor to ceiling in scarlet and gold, it was like walking into Gryffindor Tower times 10! Harry quietly closed the door and leaned against it, taking in the room.
Even though Sirius had made it clear to anyone of which House he was part of, the place still held the grandeur of an old Pure-Blood home. The ceiling was high, with a smaller version of the chandelier down in the entrance hall hanging in all its glory from the ceiling. The bed was freshly made and the furniture had not even a speck of dust on it. In front of the high window stood a handsome wooden desk, it's polished surface reflecting the flickering flames of the fire.
Completely awed by the state of the room, Harry moved away from the door towards his trunk which lay at the foot of his bed. He changed for bed, climbed in and whispered out the lights. He rolled over onto his side facing the fire, lost in thoughts; thoughts about his fight with Dumbledore and his dropping out of school and just as his eyes were closing, thoughts of the soft yet dominant lips against his.
Far away, a young woman was tossing in her bed, her blond hair spreading out underneath her head as she slowly came awake. Something had woken her up and as she half sat up, she heard it again. Like a tap. Her gaze shifted to the window of her bedroom and she jumped out of bed when she spotted a snow white owl peering in.
"Who are you", she wondered. The regal owl flew in once the window had been opened and landed on the chair where she had thrown her clothes. The bird lifted her leg, to which was wrapped a letter. The woman untied it and flattened it against the surface of her desk. She turned on the light on the table and read her name on the front. Frowning, she broke the wax seal and her frown deepened as she read the contents.
It was the early hours of the morning, but she knew that her mother wouldn't give out to her for making such noise when she knew why. The girl ran through her house, her hair flying behind her and her dressing gown bellowing, as she sprinted down the long hall towards her parent's bedroom.
"Maman!, she said, opening the door violently. A form rose from the bed and lit the bed side light.
"What is it Fleur? Qu'est-ce qu'il se passe?", demanded the woman who was sitting up in the bed, long blond hair, the same colour as her daughters' falling behind her back.
"I just got a letter from Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's best friend", panted the girl. She handed over the letter and waited in silence as her mother read it.
"So the time has come", finally said the older woman. She lifted her eyes towards her daughter, who nodded in return.
"They need me Maman. They need my help."
"I know, ma chérie, but I'd been hopping that you would have more time before you got mixed into the war in Britain. It is your duty to help the Mates but I wish it just didn't happen in such Dark times", continued the lady. Fleur sat down beside her mother and laid her head on the shoulder.
"But we've know for a long time, Maman. You've been preparing me for this for so long. I am honoured to help them become a One. I am honoured to continue our family's legacy", replied Fleur fiercely. Her mother hugged her quickly, then pulled away and got out of bed.
"We have so much to do! First, I want you to reply to the letter, telling your friend that you will arrive as quickly as possible. Hopefully, they will have time to find an excuse to your presence. Then we must pack everything you will need for this."
Fifteen minutes later, Hedwig soared out of the bedroom window heading back to Hogwarts.
Harry woke the following morning quite confused of to where he was. He stared at the red and gold room for several seconds before everything rushed back into him and the weight of the consequences of his actions sank in.
He dressed himself and made his way down to the kitchen. Dobby had not cleaned this room and not having the courage to face the years of grime (and hating himself for doing it), he went the easy way.
"Dobby?"
Crack!
"Mr. Harry Potter! Dobby hopes Harry Potter enjoyed his room. Dobby hope's it was up to Mr. Potter's standards, if not Dobby will punish himself severely for displeasing Harry Potter-"
"Dobby!", shouted the young man over the elf's ramblings. "My room was fine, brilliant actually, you did a great job, thank you."
"Anything Harry Potter, anything you wish, Dobby will endeavour to make it possible", said the elf as he bowed so low his pointy nose practically touched the dusty stone floor.
"Well, I hate asking you this Dobby, but could you please clean the house? Nothing has been done in year and it's a lot of work, but really I understand if you refuse, I mean, I would", said Harry.
"Harry Potter wants Dobby to clean his house! Such an honour sir, so much for poor little Dobby, it'll be done as quickly as possible sir, as quick as Dobby can!"
"Thank you Dobby", replied Harry in a grateful voice. Without the elf's help, his stay here would have been a fiasco. The elf looked up at him and gave him a teary smile. Then, he snapped his fingers together and a little tornado looking thing appeared in the middle of the kitchen, gathering all the dust as it turned. It then headed out through the door, hunting for more filth to catch.
Two hours later, the house was clean, smelled fresh, the walls and ceiling were cob web free, the furniture was polished, the carpets and the curtains had been washed, the bedrooms all had fresh sheets, and the bathrooms gleamed.
Harry sat at the kitchen table, reading the letter he had received from Ron and Hermione as he picked at the meal Dobby had made him before leaving back to Hogwarts. The elf had gone out of his way to make the house as good as possible, even going to do the groceries and stocking up the kitchen for him. Before the house-elf had departed thought, Harry had made him promise to never reveal where he was unless it was to Ron or Hermione and to say nothing to Dumbledore.
The letter he was reading had been delivered by an ordinary school owl, no doubt as a precaution from his friends.
Harry,
Where IN MERLIN'S PANTS are you Harry Potter? Do you know how much stress these last hours have been? With Dumbledore breathing down our necks and looking murderous-
Mate! Sorry 'bout Hermione, she's really mad at you, good thing you legged it. I got an answer from Fleur this morning; she says she'll be here tomorrow morning and that we have to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron, so I reckon you'll have to go pick her up-
What happened Harry? Did Dumbledore do something? He hasn't explained much about you not being here at breakfast, and nobody knows you're gone yet, thank Merlin! But why didn't you tell us Harry? I was worried sick when we didn't see you last night, and you didn't even bother to send a message I mean-
Merlin you are so lucky not to be near Hermione, mate. Anyway just tell us where the hell you are, go get Fleur tomorrow morning and find her a place to stay and we'll see you in two weeks, ok?
The HELL we'll see you in two weeks Harry Potter, and you better have a good explanation on running away from school, I mean I know it's not the best place to be, but still this is your EDUCATION! It's important Harry!-
See you soon!
Ron, Hermione
He lay down the letter and dropped his head into his hands. He could understand Hermione's outrage of dropping out of school with her love of academics and he could understand the silent hurt from Ron, because he took off without telling him. And Dumbledore was acting as if nothing had happened, but Harry was sure the old man was already plotting a way to catch him. He hopped his friends would be clever enough to keep their wits about them for the next two weeks, until they could talk it all over during Yule break.
He looked at the letter again. Not one word about Malfoy. He closed his eyes as he saw again last night in his mind: the fight, the closeness, the kiss, the heat, the friction, Merlin! His eyes flew open and he looked down and turned bead red when he saw the state he was in. How could it be that Malfoy was affecting him so much? He got up from the table, panting slightly at the tightness in his pants and quickly went to the closest bathroom. He stripped off and got into the shower.
His body was shaking from the building pleasure and he knew that not even a cold shower would fix this one. He turned on the faucet and was hit with another wave of pleasure. He closed his eyes as he slid his hands across his chest, his mind imagining a completely different set of hands. He could feel his lips burning from the memory of the kiss with Draco. One of his hands slipped south and he began touching himself.
At first a bit shyly but gradually his hand became more confident. He leaned his back against the marble wall and gasped at the cold sensation. He was extremely aroused now and his mind was bringing up the sensation of grinding against Draco's body, the intoxicating sounds the boy had made, the sinful lips against his neck, the heat searing through his body, feeling Draco's body tremble against his as he came closer and closer to release.
His hips were jerking forward and his back arched off the wall. Faster, faster, harder, he pumped and he felt as if he was going to blow and- He screamed as he reached his climax and came as hard as the other night. His legs gave out from under him and he slid down the wall, breathing erratically. His body still trembled as it rode out the pleasure. He raised his head to the water, letting it wash over his face and the shame he could feel inside of himself.
He remained there on the ground for a very long time, before pulling himself back out and quickly washing himself. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself. He walked back up to his bedroom, not paying any attention to Dobby's work. He opened his trunk but found it empty of his clothes, but when he opened the wardrobe he smiled softly at the attention. He pulled out a fresh pair of dark jeans and a random jumper. Once dressed, he made his way to the Black Library to look up why the hell he had a tattoo, how in Merlin's name did Wizarding Will's work and why the fuck he had just wanked off at the thought of Dr-Malfoy.
At breakfast, nobody had payed much attention when only Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley walked in, without Harry Potter. Some looked up as they always did when the trio walked in, say that one was missing, dismissed it and went back to their meal or conversation. One person however, had noticed this and clenched his hand in a fist at his cowardness. Did Potter not have the guts to come down and face him the next morning? Beside him sat Zabini, with dark shadows under his eyes a clear sign he had little to no sleep last night, just like himself. The tan boy wasn't even eating, only pushing around the food on his plate.
Draco glared at the Gryffindor table just for good measure and stood up abruptly.
"Blaise?" The boy simply looked back up at him. Growling, the blond seized his fellow Slytherin by the arm and pulled him up. Zabini yelped in surprise and pain when his knees hit the wood. A few heads turned to see what the commotion was, but Draco glared at them all and they went back to their business.
"Fuck Malfoy, what", said Blaise in an angry tone as he wrenched his arm out of the blonds' hold and stood up.
"We need to talk before class, now move", whispered back Draco. The dark boy nodded and together they walked towards the doors. Once they were in the Entrance Hall, they made their way towards the dungeons and the Snake Pit. The place was empty, everybody being at breakfast. Draco led the way to their dorm and cast a Locking and Silencing Spell once they were inside.
"What's your problem Malfoy?", demanded Blaise, standing in the middle of the room, his arms crossed.
"I don't have a problem, it's you who has one, mopping around like some first year Gryffindor", snarled the blond.
"Well sorry, but in case you haven't ticked yet, we're as good as dead with this-this thing on our skin", exclaimed Blaise. He walked up to the blond and poked him in the chest.
"Don't touch me Zabini!"
"Oh get off your horse Malfoy, I mean what are going to do? Tell me of to dearest Daddy? Or even dearest Potter?" He spat the last word like venom but he knew deep down, he knew he should have never said it. He looked at Draco's face but the physical reaction that he saw was the coldest and most closed off face his friend had ever given him. However, on the inside Draco was murderous.
Blaise grunted as a fist connected with his face, moving so fast it looked invisible. He fell like a tree. His head hurt so much! Then his vision was clouded with the Ice Prince's face.
"Don't you dare insult my father or my family ever again Zabini. In case you've your poor excuse of a brain has failed you, let me remind you that I am now Head of the Malfoy's." The blond now gripped the curly brown hair of his now ex-friend and brought their faces even closer. Anybody walking in now could have mistaken their position for something much more intimate.
"We are Death Eaters now Zabini, get over it or die. But don't you even dare imagining bringing me down with you if it comes out. I was willing to help you, work as a team. But now, it's the best one of us who will survive", whispered the boy, his nose nearly touching Blaise's, his grey eyes burning holes in the other Snake's head. He furiously slammed the boy's head against the hard ground and swiftly stood up. He opened the door and looked back once more at his now ex-best friend and enemy in so many ways. Something had broken between them, and even if they made it out alive, both boys knew deep down they would never be best friends ever again.
"If I but hear a word about Potter or my father's Will, I will have no mercy and will sell you out as a traitor Zabini, let that be your final warning", he said in a terrifying cold voice. He walked out and slammed the behind him. He took of back to the Common Room, not looking back once. He checked the time on the old grandfathers' clock on the chimney's mantel piece and cursed as he was running late. Luckily it was only Potions and Snape would not give him too much grief for a couple of minutes. He raced out into the dark halls but slowed down when he heard voices coming behind him. Quickly, he hid in the semi-shadows and listened as the two students talked as they ran towards the Potions class.
"Really Ron, couldn't the letter have waited?"
"'Mione, let it drop okay? It had to be sent as quickly as possible so he had time to prepare for her!"
"Maybe but it could have waited a couple of hours, you know damn well how bitchy Snape can be", ranted Hermione. Draco saw the pair Gryffindors run past him and round the corner in a clatter of feet and bags hitting of the walls.
"Snape bitchy", he though in mild amusement. Never heard that one before. He stepped out of the darkness and jogged off in the same direction as Potter's friends. Who they had been talking about, he wondered. But to his surprise, when he arrived at the classroom, all the students were still waiting outside for their Potions Master to turn up. The blond frowned; never had Snape been late for any class. The Weasel and the Mudblood were whispering away in their corner, ignoring the rest of their House. Unusual, even more that Potter had not even joined them. The same anger that he had felt in the Great Hall filled him again. The coward knew they had two hours that morning. Again he was too scared to face him.
He leaned against the dungeon wall, ignoring his fellow Snakes as they waved him over. He wanted to observe the pair in front of him, see if they snowed any indications of knowing what had happened between him and Potter the previous night. Sadly, his time was cut short as Professor Snape came striding down the hall, his black robes bellowing behind him. Silence fell upon the students.
"In", he ordered, pointing his wand at the door which opened. The students filled in silence except for Granger and Weasley who were still continuing their hushed conversation.
"Silence!", barked the wizard. He waited by the blackboard until everybody was seated.
"As some of you have realized, I was a few minutes late today due to an unannounced Staff meeting." He paused for a second, "The Headmaster has brought to the teaching body's attention the disappearance of Mr. Potter", he spat the last word. Immediately, the room was filled with questions and shouts from the Gryffindor students, demanding questions on the whereabouts of their Golden Boy.
"SILENCE", roared Snape. "If you will cease your moronic behaviour and let me finish, you will know that all the necessary people have been warned and that the boy his being searched as I speak. Now, open your books at page 93, now", the treat of a failed grade dripping in his last word if they didn't cooperate.
Whilst Snape droned on about the theory of whatever potion they would be studying until Christmas (and for which Draco knew he would spring on them as surprise test on the very last day), the blond observed Weasley and Granger. They didn't seem at all affected by the disappearance of their best friend, in fact they hadn't even reacted to the news, still talking over the din their stupid Housemates as caused. The only conclusion Draco could come to, is that they knew exactly what was going on.
He spent the lesson watching them like a hawk, but he managed to gain nothing. The ring of the bell brought him back down to earth and he packed his blank parchment and left to his other classes. On the way up to the Main Hall, he tried to fall behind the Gryffs' and eavesdrop but both had completely disappeared by the time they all reached the bright Hall. The rest of the morning went by as a blur, his mind elsewhere, trying to put together a missing Potter and unconcerned best friends.
By midday, he was extremely frustrated and confused. To make matters worse, he had barely sat down at Slytherin table, when a scroll was delivered to him by a school owl. His name was written in some unknown hand writing. He quickly grabbed the letter, an apple and left the Hall, escaping the curious gazes of his year mates. He walked down to the lake, making sure nobody was following him. Once quite alone, he opened the letter and raised an elegant blond eyebrow: it was a request from the old bumblebee to come to his office that evening after dinner! Once he was sure he could find no hidden message or code in the letter, he set fire to the piece of paper and watched as the wind carried the ashes.
That evening, he went to dinner with his usual party of Housemates, all Pure-Bloods know since they were toddlers and with whom each of their parents wanted them to build bridges for later in life. He was acting as usual but inside, he was quite nervous as to what in Morgana Dumbledore wanted from him. As the group walked into the Great Hall, looking as if they owned the place, his eyes slid over to Gryffindor and he made a mental note that neither of Granger or Weasel were present. Sadly for him, those few moments of inattention caused him to not pay attention where his group was seating themselves and before he knew it, he was on the opposite side of none other than Blaise Zabini. This is going to be great fun, he though bitterly as Zabini inclined his head as a greeting but Draco ignored him and struck a conversation with the person sitting next to him.
Dinner went as all dinners went with the Snakes: careful conversations, guarded faces, cold yet polite manners. Eventually, Draco excused himself, and made his way up to the Headmasters office. When he reached the gargoyle he realised he didn't know the password and stared dumbly at the statue for some time. Then, a hand fell on his shoulder just about giving him a heart attack. He freed himself from the grasp and faced his ''enemy'', wand at the ready, nothing in his posture betraying his surprise, only to drop it immediately when he realized who he was actually threatening.
"Headmaster, I apologize", he said in a neutral voice. He replaced his wand in his sleeve.
"Ah, I believe I am the one who must apologize Mr. Malfoy, after all I did give you quite a frith, so please accept my apologies", replied the old man, his eyes twinkling but Draco knew better. "Shall we?"
The boy nodded in response and he stood beside the old wizard as he said the password and the gargoyle revealed the hidden staircase.
"Have seat my boy." Dumbledore gestured the seat Harry had been sitting in only the day before and sat himself behind his desk. They sat in silence for a few moments, the young Malfoy holding his stare.
"I suppose your wandering why I've asked you to come tonight", finally said the old man.
"Quite a bit sir, actually."
"You see, I have some questions which need answers too but first of all I would like to ask you how you are doing." Dumbledore stared at his pupil over his glasses.
"I don't quite understand what you mean Headmaster."
"Well, as your Headmaster, it is of my duty to make sure all my students are feeling happy and that they get the support they need, especially in such dire times. I know your father was Kissed earlier this year Draco and I must say I am deeply impressed in the way you have taken on all these new responsibilities. Quite admirable for a young man of your age", praised the wizard.
"Thank you Professor", replied Draco, his face still blank.
"Though", said Dumbledore leaning forward and joining the tips of his fingers," I would like to clear something with you. Some time ago, when you witnessed the Order meeting, you said something that caught my attention: you said I would have to deal with the Malfoy family lawyers?" The air in the office cooled noticeably.
"Ah, yes. You see professor, that night, when H-Potter ''voiced'' his opinion to you, he brought up the case of Sirius Black and it reminded me of the article in the Prophet, declaring Black innocent and wrongly accused of betraying the Potter's to the Dark Lord. And as his last living relative, I believe it is my right to press charges against the Ministry for being too quick to punish him only to find out upon his death that the man was innocent", said Draco, his voice in a business tone, just like his father's used to sound. He suppressed a shiver at the thought of how much he must resemble Lucius at this moment.
Apparently Dumbledore had been thinking along the same lines. His face had darkened as the boy spoke and he felt nervous. The old man knew this boy had every right to file a complaint against the Ministry. He took in the figure now sitting in the chair Harry had so often occupied. Draco Malfoy had grown into the clone of his father, much like Harry the clone of his own. His blond hair carefully combed, perfectly dressed, his legs crossed.
"You are perfectly in your rights Mr. Malfoy, but pray tell why does it concern me?"A false smile graced his old face.
"I did my homework, and I discovered that you were the Chief Wizenmagot already back then. You could have insured Sirius got a fair trial but you didn't. For that I hold you accountable for what happened to my cousin as much as the Ministry", replied simply Draco, a smirk on his lips.
"I will not tolerate open accusations Mr. Malfoy", said Dumbledore in a severe voice. He brought his hands down to the surface of his desk, to where Harry had made holes in the old wood and which he had not been able to mend. The marks were hidden under a powerful glamour.
"Ah, annoyed somebody else before have we?", taunted Draco, his eyes following the Headmaster's hands and taking in the extensive damage done to the wooden surface. He could see shimmers of Magic imbedded into the wholes. It was a signature he knew, he knew it was familiar, but he pushed this aside to concentrate on the matter at hand.
"Mr. Malfoy", cautioned Dumbledore.
"Well then I believe all has been said, don't you Professor", he said sarcastically, rising from his seat and brushing away invisible dust. Malfoy to his inner core. "Good evening sir." He felt the old cot's eyes on his back as he crossed the room.
"How is your relationship with young Mr. Potter", suddenly asked the wizard, just as he opened the door. Draco froze.
"What do you mean", he said not turning around.
"You are his enemy Mr. Malfoy. One always knows about one's enemy. That is unless your ennemity is no more? Have your relations changed?" Even with his back turned, Draco could hear the malicious smile on his Professor's lips. Keep it cool Draco, he thought.
"Did you notice anything different in our interactions, sir?" When the old man didn't reply, he turned his head towards the desk only to be met by blue eyes and on that, he stepped out of the office.
Draco walked calmly back down the stairs and entered the now completely deserted Wing. He walked like a robot down to his dorm. He bypassed his clique in the common room and headed straight for his bed. Thankfully, the dorm was empty. He went for a quick shower and jumper into bed, casting Looking and Silencing Charms on his curtains. (One was never too sure). He lay in there in his bed, relishing in the silence. He thought of what had happened that day: A) Potter reported missing, yet his sidekicks don't even react to the news aka they know where he is, what he's doing. B) Potter didn't tell them anything about their 'encounter' of last night; do they even know about his tattoo and this Will business? Doubtfully. And C) Dumbledore angered somebody whom he had already encountered their Magic and was now watching him like a hawk and D) Was he ever going to figure out the mess that had become his life?
Everything was related but how did all these information's fit into the puzzle? It was maddening not to mention he desperately needed to talk with Potter and figure out what had was going on between them to have made out and dry humped in the dead of night. His eyes were heavy from exhaustion and slowly he slipped into sleep.