Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter characters and the whole world created around it; all belong to J.K. Rowling, who we all worship and serve. I just love to manipulate them to serve my own selfish needs. But I do own Alex Ladon, Finbar Ganad, Darragh Ganad (and their mom), The Zabini Family (bar Blaise of course), and some minor characters (Orion, North, Gloves, Rufus…). DO NOT USE THESE UNLESS YOU HAVE MY PERMISSION!
The plot comes from the voices inside my head. You have been warned.
Chapter Thirteen – Paint it Black
"That was not a nice thing to say." - Theodore Nott
It was something so typical and so cliché that Blaise was not quite sure this was really happening to him. In a perfectly normal world, the real world, situations like this just couldn't be allowed to happen. On the telly, fine, because the telly needed to be extra-dramatic, over-the-top, nail-biting to compare to the real world. People like to watch the telly because it showed things that normally don't happen or at least not quite in such quick a succession. Things that lacked in their lives and consequentially made television watching so utterly entertaining.
Blaise did not find this to be the least bit entertaining.
In fact, if he'd have a remote he would have gladly skipped to the part where everything turned out alright again. But he didn't have a remote and this was very much happening right now. And quite honestly, he was pretty damn scared.
About half an hour ago Alex had started to rant, quite horribly so. She kept stringing sounds and words and what else deliriously together. Blaise blamed it on the fever. Yesterday, Blaise's mum had picked them up not long after they'd put her to bed at Aunt Serene's. Being a nurse, Brinn had quickly deducted that the illness was not particularly grave, but just very tiring. It brought a sharp increase of temperature, vomiting and, in due time, coughing. That was all there was to it. Simply a bad bout of the flu or something like it.
Thus, with that in mind, they had decided to keep Alex at their place for the time-being. It was only natural that the girl needed to be cared after. Yet nobody had been able to stay at home: his father, Vito, had an urgent meeting; his mum had been booked full for the day at hospital; Datum was at her boyfriend's and the others all had school or were much too young. Blaise had outright refused to leave Alex alone. She lacked even the strength to go to the bathroom, nonetheless be able to take care of herself. Seeing her in such bad shape chilled Blaise to the bone. He would not be leaving her alone, and told his family such. Having seen the look on her son's face, Brinn knew there would be no reasoning with him. Alex needed him and he would be staying.
So there he was. Alone. With Alex.
Obviously, the fever had to go down. He already knew what he should do. But... for the love of everything good in the world, he seemed quite unable to.
Sitting on a chair next to the bed, he prayed. Earnestly so. But he got no sudden insight of inner wisdom and Alex, instead of magically improving, worsened dramatically. When her eyes rolled back, he surged up, gathered her in his arms, and began walking to the bathroom. Walking with her burning body to the bathroom, he tried not to think about what he was going to do and what it might mean to their friendship.
This just wasn't fair.
Carefully, he sat her down on top of the toilet seat. Swallowing thickly, he said, slowly and clearly, "Alex. The fever has to go down. It's imperative that we lower your body temperature. Do you understand?"
He though she nodded.
"I-" he took a deep breath and looked into her fever-bright eyes, "I have to put you under a cold shower. Alex, I'm going to have to undress you. Do you understand me?" He was shaking almost as badly as she now. He wondered if he was nothing but a big coward.
She nodded again. By God he hoped she did.
And that was how, for the very first time, he did something he had been dreaming about for quite a time now.
He was quite sure it was never meant to be as gut-wrenching as this. It might have been intimate, as it would have been on the telly but he felt quite wretched and even as if he were doing something... really twisted. With her arms around his neck, she stood wavering, while he undressed her with trembling hands. Admirably, Alex managed to hold on.
Her body was so warm yet she shivered. A kind of bone-deep trembling that made him worry if he were doing the right thing to help at all. It came at an enormous relief that she had worn no bra. He was quite sure he would have never been able to unhook it. The hardest part, though, were the trousers. It required her stepping out of them while he pulled them away. That meant him crouching down and Alex standing by herself. They struggled with this for a few moments. Eventually he sort of lifted her out of them.
With her naked in his arms, clinging to him for dear life, Blaise glared dismally at the bathtub. However was he going to do this? He could hardly dump her there to sit on the cold floor of the tub. He wasn't even sure that she was here any longer. The undressing seemed to have leeched her last strength. And he was the only thing that kept her from slumping to the floor.
"Okay," he said softly, "You're going to have to hold onto me real tight for a moment. Can you do that?"
"Think," she managed between clattering teeth, "so."
"Hold on now," he said.
After quite an acrobatic display, he was left with only his boxers. He just pretended not to notice when her bare breasts brushed up against his chest.
"One, two, three-" he said as a warning and lifted her into the tub.
Alex seemed no longer able to say much, but doggedly hung on. Stretching, he managed to give a twirl to the tap. Almost instantly, freezing cold water sprayed upon them.
"Aah!" Alex grabbed him, obviously distressed.
Blaise held her and apologized, "It's bad now, but you'll feel better afterwards. I promise," and apologized some more, hating how inadequate it sounded. The water was terrible, his own teeth were clattering, too.
"C-c-c-c-c-c-oooold!" she insisted.
"I know, I'm sorry," he said again, "I'm sorry," and he splashed she cold water all over her using his free hand. How many times lately had he dreamed about a similar situation? It was not that he hadn't seen her naked before, he saw her like that every Friday when he had to draw her for class. Still, to him, this was profoundly different. She was so small. Small enough for him to rest his chin on the top of her head. The hand he used to steady her was on the small of her back, and he spanned it completely. He had seen the scar on her hip; the one that pulled her skin in all sorts of weird shapes, the tattoo that ran over the entire length of her leg, the freckles, the swell of her buttocks and her ample breasts. He just wished that it hadn't of had to happen this way.
"I'm sorry," he said again.
Alex just shivered and held on to him.
He didn't dare keep her under there for too long so when the cold water began to hurt him, he shut off the stream of water.
"You did well," he told her, and wrapped her tenderly into a big fluffy towel.
Dripping all over the landing as he walked to his own bedroom with her, he tried to discern if it had done any good at all. Her shivering seemed to come in surges with a creepy stillness setting them apart. Please, he pleaded, let the fever go down.
He sat her down onto his bed. Kneeling in front of her and peering at her face, he asked, "You okay?"
A miserable thumb-up was her answer.
He couldn't help but grin at that. "Good," he said, "I'm going to get you something clean and fresh to wear, kay? You going to be alright for a minute? Good, now wait there!" and he rushed out of the room wondering where the hell a sick young woman woman wearing nothing but a towel might run of to. Wait there. Could he have been any more inane?
While borrowing a white blouse of Jinx' and a pair of his own trousers for her to wear, he quickly threw his wet boxers in the laundry basket. Quickly pulling on a dry pair and jeans, he hurried back. Teeth clattering, Alex glanced up at him as he came hurrying in again. She seemed somewhat more alert now so although he didn't feel as utterly wretched as he had when undressing her, clothing her was just that much more difficult. But, together, they got it done. He was very embarrassed when they were done, though. Trouble had arisen when he had needed to pull the shirt over her breasts, which had proven to be a rather... tight fit. Why hadn't he just taken a loose t-shirt? But now having to say 'your chest is too big, I need to fetch something looser' did just not seem a valid option.
She seemed thoroughly exhausted when they were finished and Blaise helped her crawl under the sheets. When he came back with medicine for her fever and the antibiotics for her disease, Alex was sitting up again.
"W-w-what i-if I get sick in your bed?" she clattered at him.
He was tremendously relieved to hear her talking coherently. It must have shown on his face because Alex managed an odd grin back from around her rattling teeth.
"Don't worry about that," he said, "just try to get some sleep." He fed her the medicine, smiled at her disgusted expression, and kindly pushed her down unto the bed again. With her secure and apparently out of her delirium, Blaise went to tidy up the bathroom and pull on a jumper himself.
When he came back, she was fast asleep. Checking with the back of his hand, her temperature did not seem to have gone through a dramatic drop. Please let me have done the right thing, he pleaded again.
Taking post on his chair by her bed, he brought out a book. Not that he was actually able to pay attention to it, nevermind the fact that he was holding it upside-down as well. But he was pretending. Blaise was good at pretending.
Though he wasn't quite sure who he was trying to fool right then.
--
The overall theme of the day seemed to be 'misery loves company'. Harry wondered if his life had hit it's absolute low. Besides being feeling awful, the weather was ghastly and Ron and Hermione seemed to have had 'Their First Big Fight.' If before he had felt a little excluded, he now very much felt that he was way too involved. That is, that Ron and Hermione made him their center point. Silly really, if you knew that barely twenty-four hours ago they had finally seemed to have reached that much desired 'next step' in their relationship. Whatever that might be.
God, perish the thought.
But really now, Harry thought as he morosely sat eating his lunch all by himself, too far was too far. They had used him as their personal messenger, 'Harry, would you please tell Mr. Weasley to refrain from imposing his company upon me' and then Ron 'Harry, can you tell Miss I Am So Obnoxious that this is a free country and that I am allowed to impose myself upon whomever I want'. Which, considering recent circumstances, had sounded incredibly wrong to Harry. Anyway, the worst part was that while they were using him to relay messages, they could hear each other perfectly well. Eventually they had not even waited for him to pass on the message and had started arguing over his head. Harry got up and left the table, making his way outside even though it was pouring outside; it had to be better than sitting inside with the squabbling couple.
Harry's mind shied away from the fact that this fight was about sex. Why did they have to argue about it in non too subtle hints when he wanted nothing to do with it in any way possible.
He had enough trouble with his own sexuality, thank you very much. Bad enough that he'd barely closed an eye at all that night. And he'd pointedly refused to- Stop it! Stop it! Angrily chomping on his sandwich as if it was the origin of his inner turmoil, Harry sat fuming in the soft drizzling rain.
Appetite spoiled now, Harry set about to lumbering back to the dryness of the school building. Inside, people had begun milling around again, moving in little flocks, as they only had about ten minutes before the bell rang. Harry had Modern Literature with McGonagall; so he began making his way up the staircases. Rain dripped into his neck from the wet mess that was his hair and Harry knew he must look fairly wretched. Students kept looking over their shoulders at him while he wandered through the hallway wondering where his friends where or what they were doing. Of course, on the other hand, the glances might have something to do with the dark look on his face.
Harry was nearly positively sure it was the worst day of his life by the time he reached the third floor.
"Don't come any closer!" someone said rather shrilly.
Looking up, Harry saw he was standing on the edge of what looked to be a mob gathered around some sort of spectacle. Annoyed, Harry began edging his way around. When he was almost through, he was suddenly halted by a much too familiar voice for his own comfort.
"Look it was an accident-"
The other cut over it, "He's been at it for weeks now! Hasn't he, Kevin? He was there, he saw- in the showers! He saw! Didn't you, Kevin?"
"Oh get over yourself, Corner," Darragh said coolly, "Don't think too high of yourself, now. Besides, I'm not feeling accommodating enough to wait with showering until you twits are done."
Despite his better judgment, Harry found himself struggling towards the centre of the attention now. Over their heads, he saw Professor Vector arriving and unsuccessfully trying to get the students to disperse.
"Hear that? Of course you wouldn't," Corner thrilled nastily, "You're just panting for it, aren't you-"
After a rather maniacal laugh, Darragh spat, "Don't be stupid, Corner. After all, you needn't worry, not my type you know? I like men, and I don't think you even got the balls to show you're one-"
Harry shoved the last student aside with a huff and stepped wearily into the clear space everybody had created around the two boys. Only that Kevin bloke was standing a bit behind Corner and kept saying 'Yes, I was there!' and 'I saw it!'.
"What's going on here?" Harry asked, pitching his voice above Kevin's 'It's true! I was standing right behind Michael!'
Physically jumping, Darragh snapped his head towards him, "Harry!" he said, but didn't sound very relieved to see him.
Michael thought he'd found a new ally in Harry and took a few steps closer. "You know him, right?" he asked eagerly.
Nodding, Harry arched an eyebrow at Corner.
"Did you know he's totally hot for boys?" Corner confided, "He-he doesn't take no for an answer. Ever since that time in the showers, he's been... trying stuff." He looked at the floor, his mouth twisting as if he'd tasted something vile.
Oh wonderful, as if his day hadn't been wrecked enough, there had to be a case of rampaging homophobe, too. He looked at Darragh over Corner's head.
Darragh shrugged helplessly.
Sighing, Harry wondered if he could still back away and disappear into the crowd again. He was quite sure he was unqualified to deal with this sort of situation tactfully. That's why he was for once happy (no, not happy, just not disgusted) to see Snape. Because the crowd melted like snow before the sun as he came billowing towards them.
Of course, leave it to Snape to spoil his moment of peacefully not loathing him.
"Potter!" he barked, "What is the meaning of all this?"
His cheeks going hot with indignation, Harry was set to protest loudly when Corner began babbling again.
"Professor Snape, sir!" he gushed, "It's nothing to do with Harry! It was him-" he jerked his head towards a very tired looking Darragh, "He's been, he's been molesting me, sir!"
Snape's greasy forehead crumpled as he raised his eyebrows. Harry had to resist the urge to shudder and wondered if this was his cue to hightail it out of there.
"Molesting you Corner?" he said in his usual drawl, "Whatever has Mister Ganad done to merit such an accusation?"
Looking a bit more unsure, Corner made shifty eyes at Professor Vector and then said loudly, for the whole hallway to hear; "He groped me in the shower sir!"
Immediately Darragh snarled, "You God damn dolt! I accidentally knocked into you!"
"Silence!" Snape said coldly and Darragh shut his mouth grudgingly, giving Corner a truly horrid look.
"Now, Darragh-"
Snape was on first term names with Darragh? Harry's head reeled.
"-did you... molest Corner in anyway then or now?" He paused long enough to show how unlikely he thought that notion to be.
"Of course I didn't!" Darragh said angrily, looking a little red in the face.
"Well then, I think that's settled then," Snape said, leering through his straggling hair at Corner, "Corner, I will see you Wednesday afternoon for detention and Darragh, I expect you to be in the classroom before I arrive. And do refrain from re-engaging in this argument afterwards, or you shall share in Corner's fate.
"Understood, sir," Darragh said, smirking a little.
Corner was aghast, "This is unfair! He's a dirty queer who can't keep his eyes and his hands to himself and I get detention?"
"Mister Corner!" Professor Vector said, shocked.
"Shut your mouth, Corner, or you will serve detention every Wednesday until Christmas." Snape said dangerously, then, with a dismissive gesture, he turned to Harry again.
So much for hoping Snape had forgotten about him.
"I still don't see what your role is in this, Mister Potter," he drawled slowly.
"I, er," Harry began, eloquent as ever.
Desperate, Corner all but pounced on the opportunity, "Harry! Harry! Tell Snape that he's wrong! You know don't you? About his filthy habits, rutting into some bloke's arse-" everybody gasped and Darragh looked as if he seriously considering to murder Corner right then and there, "You agree, don't you, that he's an abnormal queer and-"
The look on his face must have been so intense that Corner trailed of into silence. Harry's ears were roaring, "Agree with you, Corner? I can't say I do," he seemed unable to stop talking. "Seeing as I prefer blokes myself and all, no I don't think I agree at all. Filthy habits, hmm? Abnormal queer? And what? Go ahead, Corner, spill it all out what you think about us. I'll be happy to re-arrange your face for you when you're done-"
"Potter!"
Harry stopped short, out of breath and light headed. Looking at the other students' face made him feel sick.
"However fascinating your most recent development in your romantic life might be, and I'm sure your father would've been absolutely thrilled, I implore you to quell the urge to expand on it any further," he smirked with satisfaction and then pointedly ignored him. "Now then, I hope you are all in your respective classes before the bell rings, otherwise please remain and serve detention with Corner on Wednesday."
Just like that, everybody fled.
"Honestly!" Vector said. Turning to Corner who was still lingering and apparently honestly confused, she barked, "Well, then, you heard Professor Snape, or do you wish to serve detention with me on Fridays, too? No? Well, hurry along then." Walking behind him, flapping hands at Corner, Vector left.
Darragh was staring at the floor intensely, his neck flushed and teeth grinding with humiliation.
"I expect you in my class, Mr. Ganad, and sudden inexplicable rock-slides that may have barred the corridor will not be a valid excuse to be late," Snape drawled coldly.
"Yes sir," Darragh said, staring over Snape's shoulder into nothing. "I will make sure not to mention any sudden cave-in or rampaging leprechauns at that."
"Make sure you do," said Snape, peering at him from over his hooked beak of a nose. Whirling, he strode off, disappearing around the corner.
"Rampaging leprechauns?" Harry asked.
Darragh shrugged, "It happens from time to time. Professor Snape never believes me though."
"I can't imagine why not." Harry said, smiling.
"Yeah," Darragh said, "Yeah... look, Harry," he turned to him, frowning, "That was very... nice of you, but you really shouldn't have. I can take of myself."
"I wasn't really planning to just go and blurt 'I-am-gay' back there," Harry admitted, blushing again and feeling faint in his stomach. "But Corner really, really made me see red there."
Nodding, Darragh retorted, "As me. But, Harry, you do know what they're going to say, don't you?"
Lifting his eyebrows, Harry glanced up at him.
"They're," Darragh said with a breath, "going to say we're a couple."
"What?" Harry said, "What?" He looked around the hallway, flustered. "But we. Er. We aren't!"
His face almost emphatic, Darragh said softly, "Do you think that matters to them? You're gay, I'm gay and you stood up for me, threatening the shit out of Corner. By this afternoon there's going to be a general uproar."
"Oh," Harry blinked twice, very hard, and said, "Shit,"
Darragh nodded, his face wry, "Yeah, 'shit' is about right."
Harry was now absolutely, positively sure that today was going to be worst day of his life.
--
"Hello there, Weasel."
Weasley looked over his shoulder at him, face immediately contorting into a riot of loathing, "Shove off Malfoy."
"In a minute," Draco said lightly. "Tell me now, is it true? Did Granger finally see the absolute folly of her unfortunate choice in this unholy coupling and banished you from her bed? By the look of your face, it seems true. Trust me, Weasley, if there is one thing you really shouldn't do, it's pawing your grubby freckled hands-"
Face and ears red, Ron took two steps closer, snarling. Behind him Seamus and Lavender began to drop their bags in case they were going to need to have their hands free. With any luck, they'd only need to hold Ron back.
"You shut up about Hermione, you little rat!" he spat, freckles drowning in his flushed face.
Draco regarded him with mild contempt and obvious amusement, "Lord, Weasley, contain yourself. It was just an observation. For the greater good of the country you know? Seeing as you Weasleys are so abundant by now, I thought it wise not to-"
"SHUT UP!" Ron roared. Seamus grabbed his elbow, bracing his legs.
Smiling coldly at Seamus' narrowed eyes and Ron's burning face, Draco started to turn on his heel. "Oh snap," he said flatly. "Now I've gone and upset you. Don't take it so personally, Weasley, Granger just sees it as a sacrifice for the greater good. Chin up, mate."
And with that, he stalked away, smirking. Weasley was so easy. Draco had high hopes of inducing cardiac arrest in him before they left school.
He was quite good at entertaining himself. Had to today with only Theodore Nott as company. Mouth twisting, he wondered how Alex was doing and, for that matter, Blaise. Class was dreadfully empty without them. He hoped Alex would get better soon.
As usual, Nott seemed to pop out of thin air by his left elbow and Draco clutched his chest dramatically, "Would you bloody stop... appearing out of bloody nowhere?" he demanded piteously.
"That was not a nice thing to say," he said monotonously. Nott always spoke with the same flat drone as if he were incapable of social interaction. The only time he did otherwise was when he sang. Creepy bugger.
"Really now? And since when are you qualified to judge my actions?" Draco sniffed at him. "Besides, it's funny as hell."
"I suppose it is a bit," Theodore conceded, but then ruined that statement by adding thoughtfully, "They really love each other though."
"Oh, how vile! You're a horrible person, Nott. I don't even know why I put up with you!"
Nott did that slow blink of his that never meant anything good. "Because you have nobody else to talk to at the moment."
"Yes, make me feel better, why don't you." Draco said, making a terrible face. "You hopeless lummox. And it is funny."
"You know what else is rather funny?" Nott said, sounding as indifferent as ever.
Every hallway was filled with a terrible racket, more so than usual. People were screaming gossip at each other or huddled in tight cliques whispering urgently. Draco had to ask Nott to repeat what he was saying several times. And when he finally managed to shout it clear enough, Draco wondered whether he had heard correctly.
"Pass that by me again, slowly."
Nott rolled his eyes, but tonelessly repeated, "I said that Harry Potter and that Darragh bloke are going out."
Draco was quite sure his brain imploded. "Say what?"
"I said, that Harry Pot-"
Draco flapped hands at him, "I heard you! I-" he collided harshly with some sixth year girl, sending her down to her knees on the floor and make him have to pinwheels his arms gracelessly for a moment to regain his balance.
"Walk much?" He snarled at her and stepped vindictively on her scattered books.
"That wasn't very nice either." Nott pointed out.
"News-flash, Nott! I am not a very nice person! I'm a brilliant, but horrible person." He hissed, breathing out hard through his nose. His eyes were a bit wild.
"More like misunderstood," Nott corrected him. "You clearly suffer from a low self esteem-"
"I do not!" Draco said harshly and collided once more with someone, though this time it was him who nearly keeled over backwards from the impact. When he got his bearings again, he found his eyes focusing on a hand. Eyes trailing up the hand, over the arm and then crossing chest and neck, Draco found himself staring up in the ashen face of stupid Harry Potter.
"Sorry about that," Potter said, voice gruff.
Narrowing his eyes, Draco felt his chest go taut and his mouth set into a hard line. Ignoring the proffered hand all together, he stood up again. He stared maliciously at Potter's face.
"Er." Potter said uncertainly, "Alone today?"
Draco wanted to strangle him. He lifted his eyes to look over Potter's shoulder at the person standing a step behind him. "You, apparently, are not." he drawled, looking back from Darragh's face to Potter's. He lifted his brows mockingly.
Potter stared at him incredulously.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked roughly.
Seeing Darragh shake his head frantically at him drew Draco's attention for a moment, but his mouth was already forming the words. "I suppose I should have seen it coming. Be wary Darragh, he tends to get real pushy when he's in the lavatories. Can't keep his hands to himself."
Potter was turning an alarming shade of red, "You're the one who can't keep his hands to himself!" he ground out with apparent difficulty, anger boiling in his voice.
It then occurred to Draco that it was very probable that he was biting of more than he could chew, but he just couldn't seem to stop talking. "Honestly though, he starts panting a bit right before he invades your personal space. It's a bit disgusting really."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Potter said, a dangerous look in his eyes; "I'm warning you."
"Oh, now he warns me-" Draco laughed in Potter's face, an edge to his voice that was a bit hysterical. Darragh stared at him disbelievingly and Draco agreed with him, but was only able to feel himself go very cold as he concluded, "Bit late, isn't it. You filthy queer."
There was a horrible silence. Draco's own mouth was open in shock. Darragh had his teeth bared. Potter's chest was rising and falling at an worrying rate. And Nott said, "That's not a nice thing to say."
Next thing he knew, the world went flying from underneath him and he ended up getting a glimpse from the ceiling as Potter hit him hard and savagely on the mouth. With a sickening smack he hit the cold flagstones, Potter riding him down. He grunted when Potter hit him again and again, and he tasted blood. He bucked and twisted but didn't manage any more than hurting himself and Potter was a lot heavier and stronger than he looked. Reaching out he felt for Potter's face, found it, wound his hand in that disgusting thick hair, and used it as a handle to yank him down. It was agony when he banged his forehead with everything he had against Potter's nose, but at least the hands that were twisted in his jumper let go. Potter made the mistake of clutching his nose and Draco used the moment to rear up and bite his neck. Potter hissed and hit him again with a fist that was slippery. Draco was quite sure his teeth were loose in their sockets now.
There was noise everywhere, people were shouting and even more hands than Potter was capable than possessing were scrabbling at him.
He was still kicking and flailing at air when he suddenly realized the heavy weight was gone from his lower abdomen and he could breathe again. He went limp in the next instant and was vaguely confused to see Terry Boot pinning him down by the shoulders to the ground. Boot let go when he stopped resisting. Blood started dribbling down his chin when he stood up.
He was pleased though to note that Potter's nose was noticeably distorted and blood was dripping out of his nostrils in a steady pace. Finbar had lifted Potter clear off the ground, pinning his arms against his torso as he did so. Potter was feebly kicking air and looked as if he'd been slapped awake.
Darragh was shouting at the top of his lungs, "You bloody idiot!" at Draco and Nott was shaking his head and muttering, "Not very nice at all".
During the ruckus, Granger had arrived and as she was spoke in a shrill, disapproving voice, "Have you gone mad, Harry?" Weasley squawked, "That was wicked, mate!"
When Finbar finally put Potter back on his feet, the first thing the cretin did was bring his hand up to his neck. It came away with a thin film of blood.
"You bit me," he said, sounding awed. "You actually bit me, Malfoy you- you girl."
"You hit me first," Draco returned petulantly. "More than once, I might add."
"You insulted me!" Potter said somewhat louder.
Eyes flashing nervously to see if Ganad was still there to grab Potter when he got rage issues again, he said, "You started it."
Harry looked confused, peering myopically at him, "No, I didn't." He said simply.
Stumbling to his feet, Draco mopped his chin with the sleeve of his jumper and snapped, "You're missing the point, you-" Draco faltered. "You hit me!" He said again, sticking to what he knew. God his teeth hurt. If he needed braces he was going to murder Potter with his bare hands.
McGonagall and Lupin both interrupted them in succession and Draco felt mildly relieved because he didn't care for the look in Potter's eyes. He felt strangely numb and everything was a bit fuzzy. He hoped he would die of internal bleeding and that Potter would get fried in an electric chair for murder. Pity they outlawed the chairs years past.
Their little tussle landed them arse-deep in detention again and an appointment with the Headmaster the day after about their 'irresponsible, juvenile behavior' as McGonagall so eloquently put it.
Draco wondered if this might be the time to commit ritual suicide.
--
His mouth and teeth still hurt while he stood waiting for the bus that halted in Zabini's neighborhood. He was in central Hogsmeade, having just purchased a little something for his sick friend.
He was very conscious of how he looked, having consulted a mirror and having felt horror slip trough his fingers. The store-clerk had stared quite vividly before looking away, abashed by Draco's glare. His mouth was a mess; Potter had beat him until his lower lip had split. It was swollen and already the whole area was turning a lovely purple. He had resigned to removing his eyebrow piercing in the hope that without it his eyebrow might heal without leaving a scar. Apparently, when he had used his forehead to wreck Potter's nose, the imbecile's glasses had shattered and his brow was cut up, as well. On top of that he had a pounding headache.
On a brighter note, however, Draco had successfully messed up Potter's stupid nose, which was purple and swollen by the time classes were over. Plus the breaking of his glasses had left teeny tiny cuts all over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones.
It was raining again and even though Draco had turned his collar up, he only got steadily more soaked. He wasn't feeling very triumphant by the time the bus screeched to a stop. He'd spent the dreary ride in scowling silence, the mother on the bench next his shielding her daughter from him and moving to the front of the bus. Grand.
When he got off, his brow was aching with the effort of frowning. But as he stood looking at the tasteful Victorian fence, he cheered up a bit at the prospect of seeing his friends. He was about to press the buzzer when someone called out to him.
"Draco! Wait up!"
His heart was beating against the back of his teeth and he felt horrid all over again; just as he had in the wake of the shocking confrontation.
"Draco," Darragh said in such an autocratic tone that he could not help but turn to face him.
He saw the thunderous expression on Darragh's face, his eyes narrowed to golden slits. Next thing he knew, he was lying on the wet pavement again.
Darragh crouched next to him and propped him upright. Clutching his left eye, Draco groaned. "You didn't have to hit me quite that hard."
"You bloody well deserved it," Darragh said fiercely. His otherwise glossy mess of hair was plastered to his skull leaving his face bare and striking-looking. "God knows you deserved it you moronic prick," he added and started hauling Draco to his feet.
"I understand your sentiment," Draco sniffed, "but I feel that the thorough beating your boyfriend gave me was brutal enough to get the message across." He reeled a bit as he stood and Darragh slung an arm around his middle to prevent him from keeling over.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Darragh said, sounding more exasperated than infuriated. "Harry's not my boyfriend, you dullard."
"But Nott said-"
"Honestly," Darragh said, sounding a bit like he might start laughing. "You ought to know not to believe what might be a fourth or even sixth hand account. Harry did come out and said he was gay and, yes, he did so while standing up for me. He also threatened to re-arrange Corner's face for him."
"I think it's reasonable of me to say that Potter needs anger management. Or medication. Possibly both." Draco grumbled.
"Hmm, yes, I'm sure. That's like the pot calling the kettle black," he told him, "And all that aside; I have a boyfriend thank you very much."
Draco thought he sounded a bit sad, but didn't dare point it out for fear of being smacked in the face again. He was quite certain he couldn't bear any more physical trauma today. And for the coming next weeks. Years even.
Bloody savages.
--
Blaise Zabini awoke to the pleasant sensation of a hand stroking his head. As soon as sleep left him through, the pleasant bit was replaced by screaming pain in the back of his neck from sleeping in such an awkward angle. Somehow he'd ended up kneeling at the bed, his head resting on his crossed arms. His mouth was so dry he was quite sure he'd slept open-mouthed. Oh wonderful.
"Hey sweetheart," his mum said, giving him her pretty eye-crinkling smile.
Smiling wryly back, Blaise scanned the room for a clue of the time and instead found the bed empty. The room swam for a moment when he surged up. "Where is she?" he demanded, his voice strident.
"Not to worry," his mother soothed him. "She was awake and feeling much better half an hour ago. Finbar came to visit her and they went downstairs."
"Oh," he said, feeling a bit at loss.
"Come down in a moment okay? You look like you could use a cup of tea," his mum fussed at his hair, patting it down to no avail and then left him to gathers his wits.
As soon as she left, Blaise let himself keel forwards and land on the bed with a muffled grunt. Shuffling the events of the last few weeks through his mind Blaise tentatively admitted to himself that he had A Very Big Problem. Mentally, that is. He was finally spiraling down into madness, he thought, but couldn't bring himself to stop deeply breathing Alex's lingering scent on the sheets. Rubbing his face against the smooth fabric, Blaise wondered if he could just stay here and sleep some more. He didn't want to play host. Flashes from his jumbled dreams sprang in front of his mind's eye and it was Alex naked, beating him over the head with the book shrieking 'traitor!'
"Pull yourself together, you wimp," he ordered himself with a harsh whimper. "You just need to-to get laid. It's a phase."
Rolling over to his back, he put his hands to his face and slid his fingers into his hair. It was a mad mess of loose curls, thick strands looping wildly however they pleased. That's what happened if he didn't do anything with it right after coming out of a shower. Standing up, he left the room with an aching feeling in his belly.
When he got downstairs, however, his dismal attitude melted. He could feel his back straightening, his chin lifting, his face going almost blank but for a vaguely amused smile. Just like that he stifled any emotion at all. It was frightfully easy. He wondered whether he and Draco might consult a therapist together.
Alex was sitting with Finbar at the kitchen table, chatting softly. There was a big, expensive looking bouquet of flowers in a vase on the table. Through the window he could see the steady drizzle coating everything outside. In the vast fields outside, the horses continued grazing without any regard for how wet they became.
"Blaise," Alex said softly, her voice croaking. "Hi. I borrowed a jumper of yours."
In which she nearly drowned, he noted, even though it was only draped around her shoulders. She looked quite horrible, her skin still unnaturally pale and her dreadlocks fluffy and sticking up in odd angles. Thanks to the shower, again.
"Hullo Blaise," Finbar said, his voice deep and normal sounding after Alex's.
"Hullo," he said, finding that his own voice was a bit rough. He sat down on the opposite side of the table. Inclining his head at the flowers, he inquired, "Yours?"
Finbar nodded, sipping his tea. His hair was wet and tied back to keep it out of his face.
"Yeah, and he got me a book, too!" Alex said, smiling happily. She held it up to show him. It was Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones. She'd been wanting it for a quite a while now.
"That's nice," he said, feeling awkward. Gaze traveling back to Finbar, he found that his cousin looked mildly troubled and deep in thought. "What are you thinking about?" Blaise asked, in an effort to overcome his own inability function.
Finbar's mouth came up in a lopsided smile. "Oh, you'll see. I'm quite sure he'll visit too." With that enigmatic comment he took another swallow of his tea.
The bell rang again. None of them moved as they knew Blaise's mum would to get it.
Still with that little smile, Finbar announced, "There you go," and sat back with his arms crossed as if he was about to witness something that was undoubtedly going to be interesting.
"Greetings to you all," Darragh said as he herded Draco inside.
"Draco!" Alex exclaimed in astonishment when he came through the door and ended up in a coughing fit.
"What the hell happened to your face?" Blaise demanded roughly upon seeing the visage of his friend. It was a horrible sight; his lip was thick and a sickly purple color, in fact his whole lower face was purple and scraped up. His forehead was scattered with red specks and his left eye looked rather swollen, too.
"Oh God!" Alex breathed and clung to him when he came over to say a more personal hello.
"If you forgive me, I'm not going to kiss you," he said with a bit difficultly. "My mouth hurts like hell." But he did nuzzle her cheek and forehead and asked softly, "How are you?"
"I'm fine," Alex retorted while she was obviously not. "Draco, what happened?" She asked, holding his hand.
"Don't start to feel too sorry for him yet," Darragh said from the doorway. He leaned against the door frame casually, arms crossed over his chest. His hair was slicked back with the rain and his jeans clung to every inch of his legs. He looked as if he'd taken a plunge in the lake.
Wincing, Draco pulled away, Alex releasing him reluctantly. He gave Darragh a guilty look.
"First things first, though," Darragh said, brightening. He walking over to the table all the while dripping all over the floor. "Gifts for the beautiful lady!" He gave her a resounding kiss and handed her a gift with a huge bow on top.
Draco had zipped his backpack open and was pulling something out too. He looked wet too but at least he'd taken a drier transportation method than Darragh.
"Oh Darragh, you shouldn't have!" Alex exclaimed and kissed him vigorously on the cheek when she unpacked the DVD of The Last Unicorn.
"You are aware of my unalterable devotion to you, aren't you?" Darragh said, grinning and touching her cheek. "Especially when you're wearing a tight fitting white t-shirt and no bra."
Alex swatted at him, her cheeks burning as she covered up her chest. But he made her laugh, too, and for that Blaise was grateful to his youngest cousin.
A big, plush dinosaur of the long-necked variety was what she got from Draco. "I didn't know you'd remember it," Alex said softly and clutched the plush to her. "I love it, thanks." Very carefully she gave him a chaste kiss.
She smiled at the lot them and announced, "I think I'm going to be sick more often."
"Please don't," Blaise pleaded quite earnestly. He wasn't fond of feeling like a cracked up moron.
Alex held his hand for a moment on the table, a very personal look in her eyes. "I'll try," she said with a wry grin and released his hand.
That stupid touch alone had caused fire to curve through his belly sharply. He took a steadying breath and cut his hazel eyes towards his friend. "What happened, Draco?" he asked again, not sure he wanted to hear, judging from the dark frowns on his cousins' faces.
"Yeah, what happened, Draco?" Finbar repeated softly, in a dark teasing way, making Draco's eyes flash.
And so, haltingly, eyes glittering in humiliation, he told them. Finbar and Darragh mercilessly made him recount every minute detail of his low deed. During his story, Blaise felt his jaw go a bit slack with astonishment and not a bit of anger. 'Filthy queer', especially, made him clutch the table white-knuckled. A surge to protect Darragh made him want to punch Draco himself. Judging by the way Alex looked as though she might use the dinosaur to do something rash, Blaise was sure he was not alone with that disposition.
Afterwards, there was a long and strained silence. Alex opened her mouth several times, but ended up closing it again, while Darragh's hand on Blaise's shoulder kept him seated.
"You fought with Harry?" Alex asked, horrified.
Blaise saw Draco did not care for the way she called him by his first name.
"He hit me." Draco said, looking at his hands.
His own voice low and rough, Blaise said softly, "Filthy queer? How can you say that when-" it took him everything not to betray his friend's secret right then. He bloody deserved it. Counting to ten wasn't enough by far, so he counted to thirty. "When my cousin..." he said instead, and was equally enraged by that.
Draco failed to respond, taking a deep breath. He looked very small.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Blaise." Darragh said gently, then went on to looking smug, "I've hit him for it already. We're alright now, Draco and me."
With black eye and all, Draco looked grateful.
"You sure?" Blaise asked Darragh, looking deep into his golden eyes.
"I'm sure. We're okay," Darragh said, his face serious and belying his young years. "I understand how his wicked mind works, God help me."
"How could you?" Alex asked him. "Draco?"
"I said, I don't know," Draco exclaimed suddenly. "If I could give you a valid reason, I would! But I can't."
Darragh spoke up in that still, very serious voice of his. "Leave him alone now," he told then all and went to stand behind Draco. "He's gotten beaten up for it, detention for it, and will be scorned by the whole school for weeks to come. It was awful, but he's paid. It's done."
The whole room took a collective breath and Draco, for a moment, let his head rest gratefully against Darragh's sternum.
Blaise gathered himself, with some difficulty, looked at his friend and the wretched expression on his face. Then he let it go. He stood up and went to get ointment for Draco's wounds and bruises.
Alex got the blonde a cup of tea. Her fingers danced over the bruised spots and she shook her head a bit despairingly at him. Finbar was smiling, but nobody but he knew why. It seemed that he was aware of the whole cock-up on a far deeper and profound level. And he stared at Draco calculatingly from under his dark lashes, evidently making the latter restless.
The tension evaporated entirely when the doorbell rang once more. Yameson unexpectedly brought Dean in.
"Cool house, Blaise." He said by manner of greeting and followed that up with, "Draco, you are a complete arse, but I'm not going to waste any more breath on you. I'm here for Alex."
"Dean!" she said, her eyes wide with surprise. "You're here."
"Yeah," He said, smiling. "I kind of missed you in class today. I feel like I'm the only geek without you."
"Oh, that's nice!" Alex said with laugh, but seemed very happy and a bit flattered to have him there.
Dean walked over and handed her something, "Here, something to keep you entertained until you come back."
"Oh!" she gasped feebly when she looked at the deep pink cover of the book. It read 'Princesses oubliées ou inconnues' and had a beautiful illustration on the front. "Oh, Dean!" she grabbed him and kissed him full on the lips.
"My pleasure," Dean said with a wide grin.
Blaise's eyes bored holes into the back of Dean's head. Instead of
pulling Alex away from Dean like he really wanted to, he simply pasted
a smile on his face and got up to bring their guest a cup of coffee.
Alex looked at the presents on the table, "But... but why? It's not my birthday or Christmas. I'm not even in the hospital!"
"You needed cheering up," Dean said.
"And for a woman you do this by showering her with presents!" Darragh concluded.
The others nodded.
"You arses," Alex said with an odd thickness in her voice. "You're going to make me cry. This is a bit over the top, but thanks. Really."
Finbar was chuckling, "Please don't. We all know how Blaise melts like putty when girls cry."
Frowning reprovingly at his cousin for exploiting his weak spot -granted it was a spot that was the size of Canada- but he should nevertheless not have to get it rubbed in. Besides he had never seen Alex cry and he was quite sure he was unable to handle any more strain on that area. He'd bend double to do everything for his sisters when they cried, and that happened on frequent basis. If Alex cried he though he might just lose every last shred of dignity completely.
They were drinking their beverages when his two youngest sisters drifted in, Jinx hugging Alex and fussing over her while April imperiously demanded to sit on Dean's lap again. She'd apparently taken a shine to him.
Blaise liked how he treated her and forgave him for using his boyish charms on Alex.
There was light-hearted conversation after that and Blaise felt his shoulders lose some tenseness. He wanted to talk to Draco, but his friend wouldn't even let him catch his eye. The only thing he did was touch the tip of his tongue to the cut, or drag his upper teeth across it, brooding.
For the third time that evening, something rang shrilly, but it was not the door's bell. Alex picked up her mobile phone.
"Hey Harry!" Alex said, causing everybody to freeze. Draco actually bit his lip and cursed with feeling.
"I'm better, thanks. You sound awful though," she cast a look at her friend. Draco returned it a bit defiantly. "I heard about that. We've already chopped him up and buried him in the backyard. Yes. Gods, I can't even begin to express how sorry I am... I know, but honestly. Uh-huh. What? Why would I be? There's Darragh! Heavens, Harry don't be a dolt. Oh, by the way…" Her green eyes narrowed and focused on Draco as she paused.
Draco's eyes widened and he started shaking his head. The rest of them watched with morbid fascination. The expression an Alex' face was downright menacing.
"There's someone who needs to say something." she said softly, but pronouncing every syllable with great care.
Draco stood up so fast that his chair toppled over with a loud clatter. He was gesturing frantically.
"Hang on for a moment," she held up the phone towards him.
"No," Draco said desperately.
"Yes," Alex said, and she didn't look nice at all, "Now. And be polite. Apologize."
"Alex," Draco said, swallowing.
"NOW!" Alex flung at him and ended up coughing miserably.
Everybody glared at Draco. He took the phone, covered it with his hand and hurried out. He held it up and in front of him as when one might do when they were holding up a bomb and it were about to explode any second. The backdoor closed with a loud bang.
--
Harry was sitting on his bed, pressing a towel wrapped in ice against his nose. He passively watched how Nyoka worked her meal of dead mice into her mouth, swallowing them whole, little lumps advancing through her body like beads on a thick string. Loud clattering, noises and crackling came through the receiver of the phone.
"Alex?" he queried, voice indistinct with the swelling.
Someone shouted on the other end and Harry frowned, but regretted the movement instantly. The cuts caused by the fragmented glass stung and his nose scrunching up made him dizzy. Broken and bent, his spectacles lay on his desk, the now empty case for his lenses beside it.
"Hello?" he tried again. More crackling and indistinct noise. "Hello, someone? Alex? Are you okay?" Wasn't Zabini supposed to have stayed home to keep an eye on her?
"Hello?!" he said loudly. "Anybody there? Hello? Someone?"
Silence.
Concentrating, squeezing the phone so hard it gave a worrying crack, Harry listened. It seemed the phone had been abandoned.
Nyoka gulped down another limp mouse under the spots of her terrarium.
About to return the phone to the cradle, Harry tried once more, a bit annoyed. "Hello?"
Nobody. Another frown had him hissing.
Wait.
Breathing. Someone was breathing rapidly. Shit. Had Alex fainted somewhere alone, the mobile lying lost on the floor with him calling out? Wasn't anyone there with her?
"Can you hear me? Alex? God, are you okay?" Harry looked around for a jacket and dry shoes. His heart was beating in his throat.
He was about to get up when he heard another noise on the other end, someone swearing softly. Not Alex at all. Harry getting was sick of it.
"Hey I can hear you!" He said irritably, sinking down again. He rearranged the towel a bit. "Who's there?" he demanded.
Someone sighed miserably.
"Stop wasting my time and say something or put Alex back on! Who is this anyway?"
"It's-"
"What? Hello?" Harry asked, shaking the phone as if it would do him any good and the rest of the sentence would come flying out of it. When no answer came, he lay back on his bed, his knees dangling over the edge. He listened to the steady breathing. Then it came to him in a jolt and carefully he put the towel aside. Dread flooded him.
"Malfoy?"
"...Yeah."
"Shit." Harry said with feeling. He fantasized about throwing the telephone out the window and watching it smash into a thousand pieces on the curb. He didn't though and was at loss for words. He vindictively wanted to ask if Draco's mouth hurt as bad as his nose did but he held his tongue, wanting to be the bigger person.
"I shouldn't have bit you."
Harry let out a weird noise that was a scoff and a laugh mixed into one. "Oh really?" he said scornfully. Screw dignity. "Does your lip hurt a lot?"
"It does." He sounded a bit more aggravated now. "Does that make you happy?"
"Hmm." Harry hummed contently. He listened to Malfoy breathing some more. Fingers traced the throbbing bite-marks on his neck. "You fight like a girl, Malfoy. You even pulled out a chunk of my hair." His own voice seemed terribly calm. "Besides the head bashing part."
Malfoy chuckled, "You fight like a primitive barbarian. Mind you, your hair probably looks a lot better now. You should thank me."
Harry sighed, covering his eyes with an arm, "I don't understand you at all."
Malfoy didn't answer.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked exasperatedly.
The response didn't come and Harry found himself breathing in tandem with Malfoy. Maybe he should just chuck the phone anyway, Harry thought.
"I shouldn't have said that," Malfoy spoke suddenly.
Harry sat up again, arching an eyebrow despite the pain, "Is that an apology?"
"It's as good as you're going to get, Potter."
His teeth clenched again. "Do you mean it? Or did Alex or whoever there just force you to say that?"
"They forced me," Malfoy said evenly.
Harry readied himself to hurl the phone at the wall.
"But I really do mean it," Malfoy said in a very different voice, and hung up.
"Hey! Hello?" Harry said, "Malfoy?!"
A steady beep was what the only thing he heard and he stared in honest bewilderment at the handle. Harry sat there as it went darker with the coming of the night, wearing the blasted jumper Malfoy had lend him that one time during detention.
Sirius called for dinner and Harry gladly went to help him out, leaving his confusion and the telephone in the room behind him.
Chapter title credits go to the Rolling Stones
Thank you, Jules, for a wonderful job done on beta-ing for me! You've helped me make the chapter work and you've been a great support. Thanks.
Also, thank you everybody who's offered being a beta for me, but it was such an overwhelming response and I could only pick one of you.
Secondly, thanks for the reviews and your support, without which I wouldn't be able to plough on.
And lastly, and this might make some of you very happy: expect my website to be up between this and two weeks. The design is done, I only need to fit it into a html frame and begin adding content. One of the first items will be 'the deleted scenes' from HaH plus the old version. So check the site every few days, I ought to be able to get it up soon now!