A/N: Not much to say today. OH EXCEPT. Except last night I rewatched Deathly Hallows pt. 2 (hysterical the whole time through, used up half a box of tissues, needed to clean my glasses three times) and I realized that somehow I never noticed (or more likely cared) that Lavender is killed. So, um. Let's just ignore the fact that she's alive and well in my story, yeah? I only mention her once or twice, and while I feel like an idiot and I don't think it will come up again, just know that I have alerted myself to (yet another) piece of canon I accidentally screwed up. Whoops. In my favor, it's like two seconds of movie time and half a line in the book but still, I should have known. We'll just forget that ever happened now, yes? Yes.
Also, next chapter is vey fluffy and silly and sexy (but not enough to be posted on Google Docs, don't worry) and the chapter is named after a Doctor Who reference, so it gets double points for that.
For those of you wondering how the story at large is progressing: I'm going to be starting chapter forty-six today, which takes place in the wee hours of Christmas morning (not sexy times, that was chapter forty-five; for those of you who lived for sexy times, you are going to fucking keel over at forty-five). That should give you some sort of timeframe for the next ten or so chapters.
One last warning: there's some language in this chapter. Not a lot, but a bit, and just in case some of you have sensitive ears, I feel I should post a warning. I've done the swearing-and-accidentally-insulting-everyone-in-the-room thing before, and it's definitely better to err on the side of caution.
Anyway! Go forth and enjoy!
Chapter Thirty-Six:
Gryffindors Never Abandon Their Own.
Harry woke up to the disorienting sound of McGonagall's voice.
"Attention students—Given last night's affairs, my fellow professors and I have decided that this morning's breakfast will be mandatory. I will inform any students unaware of the events that took place last night, as well as the repercussions facing the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses. However, we have taken into account that it is the weekend, and you may not have slept as well or as long as you would have liked, so we are—for today only—moving breakfast to ten. We will see you then."
The announcement cut off. Harry groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. Getting up? Out of bed? That hadn't been part of his plan for today at all. No, he was going to summon his homework to his bed, eat whatever the house elves brought or, if they didn't show up, survive off candy for the day, and quite possibly spend his spare time shagging Draco's brains out. Not one of those actions required getting out of bed.
"What time's it?" Draco muttered.
Harry cracked an eye open and reached for his wand, conjuring a clock. "Six-thirty."
"If we don't have to be out of bed until ten, why didn't she bloody well wait until then?" Draco grumbled, pulling the blanket over his head.
Harry's arm collapsed, his wand hitting the table harder than it should have. "Fuck if I know." He rolled over, gathering Draco in his arms, and settling in. Draco sighed happily.
"How're you doing?" he asked. "Better than last night?"
"Yeah," Harry said, breathing in the comforting scent of vanilla. "No more nightmares."
"Good," Draco said. "Now shut the fuck up and go back to sleep."
Draco woke him up much later, kissing down his jaw-line, nibbling at the skin, hands sweeping over his body.
Harry hummed quietly, slowly coming around. "Are you teasing me, or do we have time to fool around before breakfast?" he asked.
"Just teasing," Draco said, finding a sensitive spot on Harry's neck and sucking. When it had reddened to his satisfaction, he said, "It's quarter of ten. We should get going."
Harry pulled him up for a proper kiss before getting out of bed. He actually felt fairly well rested, all things considered, though he was dreading breakfast. He didn't know how McGonagall could explain without horribly embarrassing Neville, and making all Gryffindors hate him for having lost them so many points. Although he supposed he was curious what she would have to say in defense of the Slytherins, if anything.
"Suppose Neville and Aurora are still in the Room of Requirement?" Harry asked, getting dressed. "Maybe we can pick them up on the way and, y'know, escort them down."
"Assuming Longbottom goes," Draco said, pulling on a customarily black outfit. "I certainly wouldn't if I was him."
Harry glared at him. "And then you'd lose your house even more points and appear even more selfish than you already are. Come on, let's go." They walked down to the door of the Room, and Harry knocked loudly. "Neville? Aurora? You in there?"
The door opened right away. Neville had huge bags under his eyes, which were still red and puffy, and Harry suspected he hadn't slept at all. Aurora stood next to him, looking about the same.
"There you are," Neville said, and Harry was pleased to hear his voice sounded strong. "We thought you'd come for us."
"By which he means if you hadn't shown up, I couldn't have dragged him out of here if my life depended on it," Aurora said, gently pulling Neville into the hallway and closing the door, which promptly vanished.
Neville flushed. "I was going to go," he said quietly. "When would I have another chance to be completely and utterly humiliated in front of the entire school?"
Aurora took his hand. "It won't be like that, I told you. Everybody's going to understand."
"Really, Neville, they will," Harry said, briefly squeezing his shoulder. "It'll be okay." He glared at Draco, who looked pained.
"You'll—it'll be fine," Draco said through clenched teeth.
"Thanks," Neville said numbly. Aurora squeezed his hand, and he squared his shoulders. "Right then," he said, sounding strong again. "I was awarded ten points my first year here, surely I can stand watching a hundred taken away from me. Let's go."
They walked to the Great Hall in silence, among the last to arrive. Harry listened as the quiet murmurs in the Hall stopped as they walked through the doors. He saw the four seats Ron and Hermione had saved for them, felt all the eyes on Neville as if they were on himself. It was worse, being on the sidelines like this. He would have taken Neville's place in an instant if his friend wouldn't have had to live through this.
Yet still, McGonagall remained silent. Harry looked around; every seat was filled, aside from those that always remained empty at the Slytherin table. He couldn't figure out why the silence was being dragged on for so long until Slughorn came in, dragging Goyle by the arm. The only noise to be heard was the scuffling of Goyle's shoes, and then the sound of him being shoved into a seat. Slughorn took a seat at the professor's table with a deep frown, and finally, McGonagall rose.
"Now that we are all here," she said, directing a stern look at Goyle, "we can begin.
"I'm sure most of you know, or think you know, what happened last night at the Feast. Let me start off by saying that what I am about to tell you is extremely personal, and had I not been granted permission, I would not speak of them. In fact, I still question the wisdom of sharing these details, but it has been requested of me, and I shall oblige.
"Last night, a group consisting of seventeen of your fellow classmates—all Slytherins—" There were some boos at this, but they quieted quickly enough "—arrived at the Feast under the influence of Polyjuice Potion, a potion that changes your voice and appearance into that of another for a limited time. These students took advantage of the recent war and took the shape of Death Eaters, several very well known indeed.
"One of these students—Pansy Parkinson—had, over the summer, snuck into Malfoy Manor and stolen a hairbrush belonging to Bellatrix Lestrange." Draco grabbed Harry's hand, and Harry could see his jaw working, teeth clenching. "I am sure you are all aware of her notoriety, but very few have heard the story of what happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom, Neville Longbottom's parents. Shortly after his birth during the first war, Bellatrix Lestrange tortured his parents to the point of insanity, and they have been in St. Mungo's Hospital ever since."
Whispering broke out. Neville looked very pale but also very determined. His eyes had cleared; not a single sign of a tear remained, only resolution.
"That said, perhaps it is easier to understand Mr. Longbottom's actions. Last night, when he saw Miss Parkinson looking identical to the woman who had caused him so much pain, he did what any of us would do when faced with such a situation—he cursed her. Quite severely. She is currently in the infirmary recovering in the very capable hands of Madame Pomfrey, who has informed me she should be mended within the week.
"But, however much we might sympathize with Mr. Longbottom's actions, he cannot go unpunished. One hundred points have been taken from Gryffindor, as well as his status of Head Boy." She had to break off due to the chorus of outrage from the Gryffindor table. Neville looked shocked at the support, and Harry thought he heard Aurora saying that she told him so, though it was hard to hear amongst the shouts and yells. McGonagall raised her hands, and the table quieted, for the most part. "Ronald Weasley is your new Head Boy, and I expect you to show him every bit the respect and esteem as you did Mr. Longbottom.
"However, there are those who deserve a punishment far worse than Mr. Longbottom's. Each and every Slytherin who took part in this despicable act has lost the house so many points the hourglass has been reset to zero. There was much debate over whether or not a house could have negative points, but due to Professor Slughorn's—" She cleared her throat before continuing. "—thorough research, he successfully proved that it is a clear violation of the school rules. In addition to the removal of points, they have had their Hogsmeade privileges revoked for the rest of the school year, as well as being banned from any further school gatherings, including the graduation ceremony." There was a mix of boos and applause, and Harry supposed there were an awful lot of people who thought they deserved much worse. "They have also lost the privilege of playing on their Quidditch team, rendering today's game a victory to the Hufflepuffs." Loud applause broke out at the Hufflepuff table, and from Aurora, who let go of Neville's hand only long enough to clap, as well as scattered cheers throughout the Hall at the Slytherins losing anything. "Although this is not an official punishment, Mr. Blaise Zabini was foolish enough to attempt to use the Polyjuice Potion to transform himself into a half-blood, and will be spending the rest of the term in the infirmary, waiting until he no longer resembles, acts as or is in any way is related to the werewolf Fenrir Greyback." Hermione smirked at this; she knew first hand the dangers of transforming into anything not human, and it seemed she was quite pleased at Zabini's predicament.
"Now, I had wanted to save this announcement for a happier moment, but I believe you all are in need of some good cheer. We have chosen to have a Yule Ball this year to celebrate the uniting of the wizards under our roof as well as in the rest of the world, and as a special treat for surviving the war. Unlike previous years, the Ball will take place the Friday before Christmas, allowing those who choose to go home for the holidays to attend. It will still be restricted to fourth-years and up, though younger students may be invited. Though it pains me to say it, there will be security present, in order to prevent a repeat of the last night's disaster." There was a burst of cheering at the prospect of the Yule Ball, but she quickly quelled it.
"One last thing before I leave you to your breakfast: I deeply regret that such a thing happened in our school, perpetrated by our very students. I have no doubt that some of them thought it a mere prank, but others were well aware of the damage they intended, and succeeded, to cause. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has a long history as an upstanding school producing none but the finest witches and wizards. In these times especially we are under the public eye, and we must behave as such. I have always been proud to call Hogwarts my school, and I refuse to tolerate this type of behavior. Were it up to me—" She cleared her throat again, and shot a withering look at Slughorn, who seemed not to notice. "Well, it hardly matters what I would have done had the decision of punishment been mine and mine alone.
"With all that said, you are hereby released from my speech, and free to enjoy your breakfast."
The tables were suddenly laden with food, and another round of applause broke out, Gryffindors being the loudest of all. Neville was the center of attention, receiving handshakes, pats on the back and words of encouragement, none of which he was expecting. It seemed the whole house was on his side, not a single student was upset with him for costing their house so many points; on the contrary, there was much heated discussion of the fairness of any punishment at all, let alone such a hefty fine. And it was decided, with some relief on Ron's part, that as far as Gryffindors were concerned, Neville remained their Head Boy, leaving Ron only with the duties Neville couldn't perform without the official title.
Eventually the chatter died down as the students turned to the food in front of them, and it was only then that Draco said, very quietly, "Neville, I'm truly sorry about what happened, last night and the night my aunt cursed your family."
If Neville had seemed shocked before, he looked positively dumbfounded at this. "I—thanks," he stammered.
Draco's expression hardened. "And when I get my hands on that fucking Parkinson cunt for daring to break into our Manor, no doubt disabling the protection spells the way I taught her, I swear on Merlin's beard, I going to—"
Harry laid a hand on Draco's arm and he quieted, though he was clearly still seething. "Eat," Harry said, putting a cheese Danish on his plate. "We all hate her, it's old news, now eat." Draco tore off a bite and began ranting again, though Harry couldn't understand a word he was saying. "Draco, don't talk with your mouth full," Harry said with a bit of a smile. "I can't understand you, and you're getting crumbs down your front."
Draco glared furiously at him and swallowed what had to be more than was comfortable. "I said I'm going to owl Father and have him—" He broke off. "Owl Mother, then, and have her rework all the spells on our Manor. If someone as horrifically daft as Pansy could get in, goodness knows who else has been traipsing through our Manor unknown. I'll send Brian; she still hasn't seen him."
Harry thought he had a point. Now that all ties with his Slytherin friends had been severed, it would be wise for them not to be able to visit the Manor any time they saw fit. "Fine, but finish breakfast first."
Draco had another bite, muttering incoherently under his breath before suddenly bursting out, "And what if she was in my room, what then?"
Harry laced his fingers through Draco's. "Calm down, Dray, please. Don't you think having her arm nearly severed is punishment enough?" He saw the glare from Aurora and chose to ignore it, keeping his eyes on Draco.
"No," he said bitterly. "That's hardly even a proper beginning. Slytherins—and Malfoys, mind you—do not take well to such betrayals."
Harry turned Draco's face to his and kissed him, tasting Danish on his lips. "Breathe," he said gently. "If Neville can survive this, surely you can."
"She didn't break into his house, his home—"
"No, but you know full well what Bellatrix did," Harry said, dropping his voice. "Now shut up, stop being so selfish, and finish your damned breakfast. We'll play a game of Quidditch after, yeah?"
Draco looked as if he was about to continue his tirade but instead let out a deep breath. "Fine. Quidditch it is." He sat back in his seat, arms crossed and glaring at all who dared look at him while Harry finished eating. He grabbed Harry's arm as soon as he cleared his plate, but Harry shook him off.
"Neville, you okay?" he asked. "D'you mind if Draco and I go off for a bit?"
"It's fine," he said. "We're still on for studying tonight, right?"
"Yeah, of course. We'll stop by Gryffindor Tower after Quidditch and collect you."
"Sounds good. Have fun," he replied.
Now that his obligations were complete, Draco renewed his grip on Harry's arm and physically dragged him out of the Hall and over to the Quidditch field, which was fortuitously empty. Since there was supposed to be a game going on, it shouldn't have been a surprise. He and Draco had started keeping their robes in the changing rooms once fall had truly set in, and they dressed and were on their brooms in a matter of minutes, the snitch invisible in the field.
"Stakes?" Harry asked. It had been a while since they'd played, what with their homework load increasing and the advent of the first game of the year taking up nearly all daylight hours with house practices.
Draco had calmed down a little, the cold air biting through his robes and turning his cheeks a fantastic pink. "Winner gets to bash in Pansy's head?" Evidently not as calm as Harry suspected.
"Was I this upset when you got to second base with her on my couch?" Harry asked. "No, I was not. I was calm and reasonable—"
"—and knocked a Bludger into my head, rendering your point moot," Draco interrupted. "However, I suppose Slytherin doesn't need to lose any more points—not that they can, but the principal remains—and I don't fancy being the cause of such disdain, so I suppose that's out of the question."
"Keep in mind we've got homework," Harry said. "Loads, since we didn't do any last night. Hurry up and think of something, and make sure whatever it is doesn't take too long."
Draco's eyes glinted and he smiled silkily. "I do believe I know what you're driving at, Potter, and no, I won't suggest such a thing. However, perhaps a quick blowjob for the winner couldn't hurt, and I daresay it would drastically improve my disposition when I win."
"Or you'd just ignore it completely," Harry said. "You never took me up on that chance to snog anywhere in the castle."
Draco's smirk widened. "Then let's combine the two, shall we? Winner gets a blowjob wherever he wants, as long as it's entirely inappropriate."
Harry flushed. "I—I suppose," he stammered. "Anywhere you'd like to set off-limits?"
"Just the regular place," Draco replied flippantly, though the topic was anything but. They had agreed by a mutual silence that they were never to speak of, go near or interact in any way whatsoever with the Astronomy Tower, an arrangement that kept their relationship strong and the worst of the memories at bay.
"And only once we've finished homework," Harry added, to which Draco rolled his eyes but nodded. "On three." They shot up into the air, and Harry's exposed face and hands were almost immediately numb. The temperature had been steadily dropping, but it must have taken a dive since they had last played because he couldn't remember it being this cold in a long time. In fact, not having to play under these circumstances was half the reason he hadn't joined the team this year. "Last match of the season!" Harry called out as Draco flew by.
"Or you'll just have to get a decent cloak and some warmer Seeker's gloves," Draco said, momentarily waving his clad hands in the air.
"My cloak is plenty decent," Harry shot back. He didn't mention his gloves, which were the same ones he'd had since first year, and were more than a little worse for wear. "Gloves won't keep my face warm, though!"
Draco slowed, allowing Harry to catch up to him and handed him the flask containing the Salamander hot chocolate. "Here," he said, sounding as if it was a huge imposition when Harry knew full well he kept a vat of it under the bed. "Just so you'll stop complaining, mind you."
Harry drained half the flask and handed it back with a smile. "Heaven forbid you actually do anything nice for me."
Draco sniffed. "Hardly." Then he leaned in for a kiss, nearly pulling Harry off his broom as he anchored them together. He broke off and zoomed away without another word, just his trademark smirk at Harry's failure to move. By the time he gathered himself Draco was halfway across the field, and too far away to yell at. As revenge Harry started legitimately working to find the Snitch; he would have been happy to let Draco win this one, given his mood, but that kiss hadn't been playing fair, and Harry was not one to tolerate cheating.
He and Draco saw the Snitch at the same moment, hovering directly between the two. They both dashed forwards, careening upwards at the last minute as it jolted away from them. Harry ignored Draco completely, tuning out everything but his broom, his outstretched hand and the Snitch, dancing so close but just out of reach. He urged his broom faster, pushing everything he had into it, and just barely closed his fingers around it before Draco slammed his hand against Harry's, swearing angrily.
"I deserved that!" Draco yelled. "I saw it first!"
"You did not!" Harry replied. He wasn't particularly concerned about Draco's shouts; they were part of the package when it came to playing Quidditch with him. "If anything, you only moved when you saw me heading towards it."
"Hardly!" Draco scoffed. "See if I ever give you hot chocolate again, Potter, not after that disastrous outcome. If you hadn't been kept warm by my potion, there's no way you would have won. Your hand would have frozen in position, unable to close around the Snitch."
"Don't call it a potion, Draco, Merlin," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Though I suppose you're right. Next time I'll snag some of my own before leaving." They landed peaceably, Draco returning the Snitch to its rightful place. Cloaks and brooms were put away, and they held hands as they walked to the castle.
Draco let out a huge sigh, one Harry had learned meant nothing more than a good whine. "I can't believe I've got to do homework with your friends for Merlin knows how long and then be dragged out of my room to someplace terribly embarrassing, all just to give you a damned blowjob you don't even deserve."
Harry smiled and remained silent. They both knew there wasn't anything behind Draco's words; Harry's friends had become his, even if he wasn't exactly warm towards them, and still called them by their last names, never mind the fact that he'd love the thrill of doing something naughty someplace they could get caught. Not to mention that he loved giving Harry blowjobs, especially when Harry was especially demanding about it.
So, really, Draco had hardly lost at all.