Chapter Twenty-Eight: Malfoy Manor
Using all the skill and grace honed through years of quidditch training, Harry found he could scale the large gate quite easily. When he was halfway down he allowed his body to drop, bending his knees to lessen the impact, and, without stopping to so much as take a breath, he rolled over to lay face first down in the dew dappled grass and began maneuvering his body so that he could slither through the vile wet weeds as stealthily as a snake, all the way to the front door of Malfoy Manor.
Harry supposed that sneaking in through the servants entrance would be the least risky way to break in, but as he stood in front of the enormous, imposing Manor house owned by one of the wealthiest and most dangerous wizards in all of Magical Britain and her many magical realms, Harry Potter made a decision.
He wasn't going to sneak in through a side door or window like a scared, powerless child. He was going to break in through the front door in a show of dominance over the grown man like an adult. Whether Lucius Malfoy knew it or not, Harry was about to fuck up the elder Malfoy's entire world.
Harry was going to march right into his house and steal the only thing that truly mattered to him.
"Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of Lucius Malfoy's son." Harry said, waggling his eyebrows as expressively as Hermione and smirking wolfishly as he pointed his wand at the lock on the door. "Open ssssssesame!" He hissed in parceltongue, and the door swung open silently, allowing him entrance.
He chuckled maliciously under his breath as he walked into the dark house and immediately began climbing the stairs to the second floor to find Draco's bedroom.
When he reached the top of the staircase Harry stopped chuckling as he was overwhelmed by the rapid fluttering of butterflies in his stomach. He gripped the banister for balance, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the thrill of his tumultuous emotions and the excitement that he could feel bubbling up inside of himself, temporarily soothing the angry, jealous serpent that seemed to control him so much of the time.
Opening his eyes, Harry smiled and let the furiously flapping butterflies in his oesophagus guide the way to his destiny.
As much as he refused to admit it, even to himself, there was definitely something more to this than just hatred.
His bare feet feather light on the cold, expensive, marble floor, Harry quietly made his way to the room he was sure was Draco's and paused in front of the closed door, gripping the elaborately carved serpent knob for an excruciating, heart thundering moment, his fingers gently stroking the head of the serpent sensually, lovingly, before finally turning the knob and opening the door to the room of his beloved. No! His enemy! No! His beloved!
Oh! Why couldn't Draco Malfoy be both?
Harry's heart hammered in his chest as his eyes adjusted to the dark room and he made out the heavily canopied four poster bed and Draco Malfoy's platinum blonde head poking out from beneath Slytherin green sheets. He realized that now he was here, he wasn't sure what to do next. Somehow this didn't feel the same as when he teased and messed about with Ron.
"Cone of Silencioso!" Harry whispered, waving his wand magically and casting a spell so that nothing that occurred in Draco's room could be heard from the outside. Whatever happened next, he knew it would be best if Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy weren't alerted to it by the sound of their only son and heir screaming his pure blood lungs out - that would ruin ALL the fun.
Harry slowly crossed the room to the bed, his heart pounding violently, each step somehow feeling like the most important his feet had ever taken in their fifteen years on the planet.
As he drew closer he noticed something black poking out of the blonde boy's hair, but he couldn't quite make out what it was. He crept closer...closer...close enough to lightly brush the sleeping boy's hair aside to reveal...
MUGGLE HEADPHONES?! Harry's eyes grew as large as dinner plates and his mouth dropped open in shock, his chin nearly clang-banging against his Adam's apple.
Then his mouth slowly morphed and twisted into a gloating grin. This couldn't have been more perfect than if he had prayed to Wizard God for it himself.
Draco Malfoy was his. Harry fucking owned him now.
Harry leaned in closer to Draco's face, carefully lifted the headphone away from his ear and then, with his lips so close they were almost touching the boy's earlobe, he hissed, "Mornin' sssssunsssshine." Causing Draco to jolt awake in a state of panic, flailing his arms wildly to try and fight off the intruder.
Harry clasped his hand roughly over Draco's mouth, even though there was no need to silence him - Draco didn't need to know that. With his free hand he tore the headphones off of Draco's head, causing the boy to start screaming around Harry's hand. "Whatcha listening to Draco? Hitler's greatest hits?" Harry joked with a sneer on his face.
Draco started struggling and trying to grab the headphones from Harry, who had no choice but to fight back, diving onto the bed and climbing on top of the evil, but somehow still gorgeous, boy, pinning his arms together above his head by his wrists. Their faces were so close. Too close. Close enough to kiss.
The feeling of Draco's breath caressing his face like a warm breeze almost stopped Harry in his tracks and his heart began fluttering in his chest as though the butterflies from moments before had taken up residence there and were now throwing a raucous house warming party. Suddenly he was painfully aware of certain body parts' close proximity to the other boy's certain body parts and Harry's head swam from the sensation, almost causing him to faint.
'Think of something else, anything else!' Harry's brain screamed frantically. 'Quidditch! I'm catching the snitch, I've won the match, I'm going to get changed, uh...Oliver Wood and the rest of the team are changing too, Oliver turns to give me pointers and run down the game and oh shite, he's naked! Fuck! Something else. Think of something else! Uh...Aunt Marge! Aunt Marge! Aunt Marge naked!'
Harry had to hold back the rush of vomit that filled his thoroughly disgusted mouth at the traumatizing mental image, but it was worth it to get his bloody hormones under control. Especially since he could now feel that the other boy wasn't having quite as successful of a time at mastering his own body.
Harry smirked as he put the headphones up to his ears to hear whatever it was that Draco had been so desperate to hide from him.
When Harry heard the tinny music coming from the thick foam headphones, he couldn't help but explode with uncontrollable, uncontainable mirth, for instead of hearing the kind of vile hateful nonsense he expected Draco to be listening to in his sleep, he heard the growling yodel of Alanis Morissette, who he had seen perform on Dudley's second television just that Summer. Before everything went to hell.
Harry's brain was screaming joyously, mockingly, 'DRACO MALFOY IS LISTENING TO ALANIS MORISSETTE!? HE'S LISTENING TO MUGGLE MUSIC USING MUGGLE HEADPHONES AND A MUGGLE WALKMAN! ASSHKAJAHA!' Harry could have died laughing, his body freezing with rigor mortis and keeping the blonde trapped and crushed beneath the weight of his merry corpse until Draco starved or was crushed to death and they were reunited in the afterlife, where Harry would continue to laugh right in the blonde boy's embarrassed face.
"DRAAAACO LOOOOVES ALAAAANIS! DRAAAACO LOOOOOVES ALAAAANIS! DRACO MALFOY LISTENS TO MUUUUUGGLE MUUUUSIC!" Harry sang, continuing to howl chortles into Draco's face. Draco began screaming again and this time Harry just let him. "You can scream all you want, Draco, it doesn't matter!" Harry grinned maliciously, after letting Draco scream and flail pointlessly for four minutes.
"Potter! You fucking bastard, you're going to get me killed!" Draco spat angrily, his words finally coherent, tears of fear and rage coursing down his normally pale cheeks, which were currently flushed as red as a pair of slapped arsecheeks from the effort of all his screaming, crying and violent struggling.
Harry just laughed cruelly, relishing the look of fear on the face of his nemesis - until, that is, the boy's face crumpled and he began crying in earnest, weeping helpless, frightened tears.
The look on Draco's face was so familiar to Harry, being one he had seen in the mirror many times, that his heart strings couldn't help but be played like the world's saddest violin. He gently released his grip on the sobbing boy's wrists and rubbed them soothingly, his fingers traveling up to take Draco's delicate hands in his own, raising them to his lips and kissing them softly. "It's okay, Draco, I was just messing about, I put a silencing charm on your bedroom, no one heard me, it's okay, you're safe - " He crooned, soothing the boy as he would his cousin, before catching himself and remembering that it was still important that he have this particular ace up his sleeve. "- for now." He clarified hastily.
"Now, why don't you just relax and tell me what you, Draco Malfoy, of all people, are doing listening to Muggle music?" He continued teasingly, unable to let the sensitive subject drop.
Draco squirmed uncomfortably under Harry, accidentally revealing yet another deep, dark secret that Harry was sure his father would kill him for. But Harry decided not to acknowledge the appendage that was now pressed against his thigh as he lay on top of the other boy.
Even Draco Malfoy deserved to be spared a little humiliation once in awhile.
Besides, if he drew attention to it, Draco would just get angry and pull away from him and that would spoil all the fun. Why ruin a good time?
"Ilikehermusicandshesprobablyawitchanywayokayleavemealone!" Draco finally blurted out in a rush of verbal diarrhea.
"You absolute muppet!" Harry scoffed. "Alanis Morissette isn't a witch! She's a Canadian, you stupid bellend!" Harry couldn't help himself and burst out laughing.
"Oh." Draco said, his face falling.
Harry stopped laughing and ruffled the crestfallen boy's peroxide blonde hair playfully. "It's okay to like Muggle things, Draco. Don't worry, it doesn't make you any less of an evil little shite of a Death Eater." He rolled his eyes but smiled warmly at him.
Much to Harry's alarm, Draco's face crumpled again and he started crying even harder and more hopelessly than he had before.
"Draco! What's wrong?" Harry asked, surprised to find himself genuinely concerned about the state the other boy was in. He got off of Draco and lay down in the bed next to him, resting his hand on Draco's and rubbing it soothingly, trying to comfort him. He had never seen Draco like this before in all the years they had known one another.
"It does!" Draco wailed.
"'It does' what, Draco? What are you talking about?" Harry asked in a low, calming tone, still caressing the blonde's hand.
Draco yanked his hand from Harry's grasp so he could fling his arm over his face dramatically, covering his eyes as he cried, "It does...it DOES make me less of a Death Eater!" Draco broke out into a fresh torrent of sobs, his face bringing to mind the tumultuous and terrifying beauty of Niagara Falls, tears gushing gloriously out of his reddened eye sockets in floods.
Harry felt hope blossoming inside of his heart at the words of his enemy. No! His beloved! No! His enemy! NO! His beloved!
Oh! Maybe Draco Malfoy COULD be both!
His heart soared above the clouds like Buckbeak - sorry! WiiiThErWiiiiNgS (ugh) the Hippogriff. "What do you mean, Draco?" He asked, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look into Draco's red, raw, tear filled eyes.
"It isn't just the music, or even just...Alanis." He said the Canadian's name with a reverential sigh and then continued. "I mean, well, yes, it all started because I accidentally heard a Muggle radio station on the wizarding wireless. And yes, I DID sneak away from mother and father to steal this Walkman and cassette tape from a Muggle music shop, but - but the music lead to...to other things as well."
"Like what?" Harry asked in a hushed tone, reaching out to gently caress Draco's arm without thinking.
Surprisingly, Draco didn't even flinch at Harry's touch this time, but instead he allowed Harry to continue rubbing his arm with his rough quidditch player's hands, so similar to Draco's own. "I...I started reading Muggle books, fiction mainly, loads of Shakespeare - wait, he isn't a wizard, is he?" Draco asked hopefully, Harry shook his head sympathetically and Draco sighed and continued. "Oh well...I also started reading some Muggle history - I was lying to you when I said my father insisted on me being tutored on WWII, I...I chose to do that myself, after hearing him mention it to Yaxley in reference to what was going to be done about the Muggles...I...I didn't know what it was so I learned about it...and...and...the music and Shakespeare and...and...oh, Harry! Draco began crying and shaking violently.
Once again, Harry felt as though someone had performed a Stunning spell on him. Draco Malfoy had NEVER called him by his first name before. Crikey! He wasn't expecting ANY of this when he broke into Malfoy Manor. "What, what is it, Draco?" He pleaded.
"I...I can't...I can't do this anymore, I can't do this! I DON'T WANT ALL THE MUGGLES TO DIE!" Draco wailed and then caught himself, a look of horrified realization dawning over his face.
Whatever Draco expected Harry's response to his confession would be, he sure as hell didn't expect that Harry would throw himself at him and start kissing him furiously, passionately, barely pausing to take a breath.
And whatever Harry expected Draco's response to his kissing would be, he sure as hell didn't expect the boy to start kissing him back with a passion equal to Harry's own.
Suddenly Harry pulled away from Draco and started laughing, but for once his laughter wasn't cruel or mocking and happy tears began trickling down his cheeks. Draco reached out and put his hand on Harry's cheek questioningly. Harry tried to look up into Draco's eyes but his vision was blurry with tears. "I...I've been waiting to hear you to say those words since our first day at Hogwarts, Draco." Harry sniffled, giving Draco a watery smile.
Draco blushed bright pink for the slightest second and then grinned mischievously and slapped Harry in the mouth, splitting his lip and making him taste blood. Harry's eyes widened in shock.
"Just remember, Potter," Draco said, smirking, "Just because I've gone a bit...soft...on the Muggles, doesn't mean I'm not going to be hard on you. I meant what I wrote..." He raised a single eyebrow alluringly at Harry and slid his hand down Harry's torso, getting closer and closer...Harry's breath hitched in his throat, and then WHACK! Draco sharply, painfully flicked his belly button, causing The Boy Who Lived to flinch. Draco started laughing. "So this silencing charm - does it really work?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowed and face pinched.
"Uh, uh...yeah, yeah, yeah, of course, of course I, uh, I used the strongest silencing charm there is - Cone of Silencioso, of course." Harry gibbered nervously, excitedly, sounding more like his flustered best mate Ron than his usual cocksure, confident self as Draco began unbuttoning his pajama top.
"Good." Draco said, and pulled his Walkman out from his blankets, somehow knowing exactly where it was buried. He unplugged the headphones and pressed play, unleashing the voice of his siren - nay, his queen - Alanis Morisette, onto the proceedings. She was singing something about sweaters being inside out and though Draco may have been getting some kind of charge out of it, Harry felt himself withering a little in the pants department.
Draco finished unbuttoning Harry's pajama top and was just about to tear his shirt open when Harry put his hand out to stopped him. "Draco, wait," He said, unable to bear it any longer.
"What, Potter?" Draco sighed impatiently.
"You like Muggle music, right? Well, I have something that will blow your little pure blood mind and get you even more in the mood than...this...ever could - no offence."
Draco looked hurt at first but then grinned slyly. "Okay, Potter, I sincerely doubt you're right, but let's see what you've got anyway." He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief and rolling his eyes, but humoring Harry nonetheless.
Harry pulled his wand back out of his pajama bottoms and waved it with a flourish before pumping his fist, wand raised, into the air. "Rebellioso Yellioso!" He growled, wriggling his eyebrows almost menacingly at Draco and curling his upper lip.
As the jangly beats and wailing guitars of Billy Idol's Rebel Yell filled the room, Draco's eyes grew almost as enormous and orb-like as Dobby's. "MERLIN'S BALLS!" He gasped. This was like nothing the fifteen year old former fascist had ever experienced in all his short life.
Then, unable to control himself any longer, Draco pounced on top of Harry with a rebel yell of his own and began furiously snogging him, tearing his Pajama top and pulling his hair in the process.
But Harry didn't care. Pain meant nothing to him right now - no! That was wrong! It meant EVERYTHING right now. He had never felt so alive in his life as he did in this very moment, with Lucius Malfoy's son mauling him like a wild animal.
"What do you know, Potter?" Draco hissed, biting Harry's already split lip and reopening the wound, flooding Harry's mouth with the delicious taste of blood. "It looks like we're going to be friends after all."