BFFF3

And now, the absolutely unplanned chapter three! It somehow managed to be completely different from the first two chapters, I'm really, really, really uncertain about this one.

And thanks to everyone who reviewed last time! glomp It's your fault that this keeps going. I'm not really sure where it is going, but it's going, just the same. But really, thank you so much everyone! I even got my very own flamey-poos! wields fire extinguisher

Slash lies ahead. SLASH.

Note: Draco POV, takes place amidst the third book--after the Slytherins' first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Lupin.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and is being used without permission, but not for profit. The author does not take responsibility for any side effects produced by this fic.

Boggart Fantasies: Reality
By J.J. the hinkypunk

I perked my ears up like some sort of cat. From across the room, I saw Hermione lean over to her left and whisper something in Harry's ear. It sounded strangely similar to, Malfoy is staring at you, Harry! He looks like he's checking you out or something. Hermione retreated and Harry raised an eyebrow. She nodded her ugly face--bushy hair swaying stiffly--as Harry turned his head in my direction. I shot my gaze the other way, you know, the thing that people do when they have been staring at someone... But he saw me. He looked away, annoyed, but skeptical at the same time. Why didn't I give him a nasty look? That's what I would have done if it weren't for my stupid boggart. That creature messed up my mind.

After that, Harry didn't glance back at me. I suppose he was trying to ignore me, and he probably thought I was simply attempting to make him uncomfortable. Snape broke my train of thought when he announced that the class would be working on a new potion today and Longbottom (whose name I knew only because of his amazing incompetence) shuddered, tipped over in his seat, and fell to the ground with a devastated plunking sound. The better half of the class laughed, with the exception of myself. I realized without realizing it that laughing at that brainless git was a waste of my time.

My mind was somewhere else. This was the first time I ceased to pay attention in Potions (my favorite class), and it was all Harry's fault. I watched him get to work on his potion, he diligently cut a shrivelfig into perfectly even sections, his shoulder blades shifted beneath his black robes as his arms moved back and fourth, slicing off small bits at a time. It made me want to claw him from behind and dig my nails deeper and deeper into his back until ten long gashes were made and rivulets of blood trickled down his bony back. Then I'd extend my velvet tongue and slowly lick his crimson blood away, gliding my tongue up his smooth back and sweeping it over every section of skin, savoring the bittersweet salt of his flesh... I could almost taste him.

Malfoy, you there? Goyle interrupted my phantasm. I blinked and nodded, still trying to hold on to the image in my head. He looked at me dumbfounded, with an off-color, flat potion boiling in his cauldron. I suspected it should have been blue rather then green, and bubbling copiously, rather then sitting perfectly still. Where did I go wrong? he asked. I honestly did not care. I ignored Goyle, who continued to look bewildered. It didn't matter, Snape would pass him anyway.

The class was dismissed on the mark, and only three Gryffindor's received detention this time (a record). I was sad to see it end, I mean, where else would I have an unobstructed view of Harry? The boggart in the closet came to mind, once again. I could go there. Maybe this time, something would happen. Maybe Harry would really fuck me without that stupid Granger popping in and destroying my moment of glory.

A smirk crossed my face. I started toward the east wing where I could find the closet with the boggart. I knew where it was by heart now, I'd been there twice already. I remember the first time--I had been flustered and disturbed, there's no other way to put it. But the second time, I came to my senses, and I'd realized that mortal enemies aren't so different in the end. Mortal enemies? Who was I kidding? Harry was a tiny little boy, an ant, a small annoyance I could squelch without effort. I was simply bigger then he, for one. So, why in the world was I afraid of him? I wasn't. Was I afraid of him kissing me? No, I liked it.

I told myself to stop thinking so much. I was getting too philosophical for comfort. Just go to the damn closet, Malfoy, just let Harry consume you, I said to myself.

A voice empowered behind me. I whirled around in curiosity. It was that moronic Mudblood Granger.

Yes, sweetie? Is there something I can do for you? Oh, no, sorry, you're too pathetic and hopeless... I wondered what she was besetting me about now.

I know where you're going, your boggart is Harry, isn't it, Malfoy? He's in that closet in the east wing, that's why I heard Harry's voice, and then McGonagall was there, she blurbed.

Stay out of it, I retorted.

Out of what? she pressed. I know all that I need to. You're scared out of your wits by Harry, and you know it. I think I'll go have a chat with him right now--regarding certain boggarts. No need to waste my time here. With that said, she strode in the other direction.

I paced quickly to catch up with her. I was not about to let her tell Harry about my boggart. I wondered if she knew exactly what I had been doing with that boggart Judging by the look on her face, she must have had a vague idea that we'd been kissing. That would be the worse case scenario; she'd go tell Wesley and Harry that I was using a boggart to get to Harry Potter, who was incidentally my secret crush. Then Wesley would sputter and cackle and tell all of his fellow Gryffindors that story, and I'd have to lie and deny it. What a pain in the ass that would be.

Wait, Granger! You have no idea what was happening in there, I wouldn't go around telling Harry anything, after his run in with those dementors, I'm not sure he can take this, I said askance.

Take what? That you're scared of him? Malfoy, I'm sick of dealing with you. She stormed off, vowing not to speak to me. I shrugged. I didn't care--I had something to turn to. It was like some sort of drug, whenever I needed to, I could go down to the east wing broom closet and find a trusty old Harry-boggart, ready to screw me like there's no tomorrow.

I was almost there, when I pondered the concept of this all being very odd. I didn't really want to be with a boggart... ugh... how piteous! Was I really so desperate as to getting Harry that way? I'm a Malfoy. I had to uphold some type of honor to my name, surely. But on the other hand, honor could kiss my ass. Harry (the boggart) was damn sexy, he wanted me, I wanted him, why should I refuse?

With a deep breath, I chose the latter. I grasped my steady fingers around the brass knob of the closet door, turned slowly, and opened it in silence, expecting to find my boggart awaiting my arrival.

I looked around inside, trying to peel my eyes through the relentless dark of the closet. I whispered, a bright light danced at the tip of my wand. What I saw made me jump backwards, hit my head on the doorknob, and fall to the ground.

My father was there, right before my eyes. He stood tall and dignified, dressed in the usual black, but wore an expression of amazing displeasure. His eyes flickered in a trance of anger. What was he doing here? He drew out his wand and pointed it steadily right towards my chest. His lips curled, he was raging with indignation. He was about to use the Cruciatus Curse on me, I could see it in his eyes. He always had that look when he was just about to perform a dark curse.

Just a boggart... I reminded myself. Ridikkulus, ridikkulus, ridikkulus, just say it, Draco. My hands were shaking. He was angry at me. I immediately thought about Harry. He was pissed because he didn't want me to have any relations to Harry. That was probably it. I shouted. Crack! My father was wearing pink frills from head to toe, complete with those muggle socks that little girls often wear, with the lacy ruffles around the end and all. I have to admit, I smiled. No way would I ever see my real dad in such an attire. He set his wand down, and I snuck out of the closet, pleased to have dodged a curse, obviously.

It made me think. Why was the boggart my father? I wanted it to be Harry. Well, there's your answer, Draco, I thought to myself. If I wanted it to be Harry, I couldn't have been afraid of him anymore. Damn it. The end of my boggart fantasies came. Things would go back to the way they were; I'd be able to make fun of Harry like always, and maybe my eyes wouldn't be so stuck on him during Potions class.

I continued to walk along, thinking I'd go back to the Slytherin house and meet up with Crabbe and Goyle. I got to the common room and found them. Crabbe had a horribly concealed smile on his face, while Goyle maintained an apathetic, bewildered look. They both took on an awkward appearance.

Hey, Malfoy, Crabbe grunted. You'll find something up in the dorms... a little gift, if I may say so. You'll like it. I raised an eyebrow. This seemed a bit fishy.

Goyle added, You better like it, we had to go through hell for it. I mean, talking to those damn Mudbloods and all- Crabbe elbowed him, hinting that he had said too much. Goyle motioned for me to go upstairs to our dorms. With a shrug, I did, but just late enough to hear him murmur something to Crabbe.

Always thought he was straight. Oh well, Lucius won't like it one bit, though.

I slid the thick wooden door open and sauntered inside.

And there he was. Sitting with crossed legs atop my bed, smiling. His black hair was like silk, shining and covering his distinct scar, his glasses rested upon his thin nose. Harry, what are you doing here? I demanded.

I think we have something to discuss, Malfoy. I spoke with Hermione this morning, and she informed me of your little run in with the boggart. Apparently, it took the form of myself. Right?

I mumbled. I didn't know what he was trying to get at here, but it couldn't have been a good thing.

Of course. And what was boggart-Harry doing? He was kissing you? Is that your greatest fear, Malfoy? Because that is rather weak, he continued.

No, actually, I liked it. I wanted you, I answered calmly. Maybe it would sound so far fetched that he wouldn't believe me.

he jumped up from his relaxed sitting position. You wanted me? That's sick, Malfoy, really sick. I don't believe you. Harry sunk back down on the bed, thinking. Let's see how scared you really are. He stood up once again and pulled me in with his bony hands. He leaned in close to me. I didn't want to shut my eyes, this was too good to miss. I took in every detail of his face, every tiny mark on his skin, I could have counted each one of his eyelashes.

And he kissed me. I felt his wet tongue sink into mine and massage slowly in a circular motion. His tongue slithered with warmth... There was something more alluring to the real Harry as opposed to the boggart; I could smell him. He reminded my of freshly cut lawns, trimmed beneath the Quidditch field and sunken in the lofty air, he reminded me of victory. I could sense our boundaries allay, we let go of rivalry and hatred. We weren't enemies. I felt as if I was being morphed and melded into one with him as our mouths continued to be locked together.

A creepy sensation like a chill, maybe, ran through my bones and muscles. I couldn't see Harry's taunting face anymore. Visions flashed before me, first my father, standing like a statue of gold that hovers over the world. Then I noticed a sea of people at his feet, mocking me, laughing at me. Harry was by my side--they were Hogwarts students. They were laughing at us, perhaps because of homosexuality, perhaps because Harry was never made for me and I was not made for him. I couldn't go on, I couldn't allow him to kiss me like this.

He ran his fingers up my chest, feeling every rib and grasping on momentarily to every muscle as if he wanted to tear my insides out. I tilted my head away hesitantly. Harry, this isn't right. Harry stepped back, his face still feverish, and like mine, glistening with a thin dew of sweat.

I know. You're afraid of what others will think. I'm your greatest fear. How scandalous! he replied with a smile. I knew he was only doing this to experiment, per se. He wanted to see if I'd back out. He didn't really want me, he just wanted to show me how weak I could get.

No, I'm not afraid Harry. I just can't do it. I looked back at him, my mouth wanton. I still needed him, but I just couldn't go through with anything.

That's not what Hermione seemed to think. She convinced me to come up here, you know. As a joke. Oh well, I thought I'd get some laughs out of this one, but kissing you wasn't all too bad. Good breath. Nice hair, too. And your eyes, I once thought they were so dull, but I guess there's a little more to you then that. Well, I'll be leaving now, Malfoy. It's been fun. See you in potions?

I watched him walk out of the room.

end fic

Yes, um, I want Harry to fuck Draco, too, but they didn't want it yet. They said they were too young. Another day, maybe...

flee author

J.J.
who is angry at this chapter, it didn't come out right