A/N: THANX TO Zany: I just have to tell you that your loverly review just brightened up my day! ^__^
Remmy: *whispers* I haven't really figured that part out yet.
superman cant walk: I went from an F to a C in algebra! Go me, go!
Lady Rillen: Goodness, lovey, you had me blushing in my own home!! *giggles*
Kimmy: *salutes jerkily* Yes, ma'am!!
~~~~O_o*
Chapter Five: The Food of the Gods
Merlin's beard, thought Harry, Why ever did I think it wise to give Draco *that* much sugar? He watched his lover with wry bemusement as Draco practically bounced off the walls, spraying Jelly Tots all over the floor while swinging his arms and not bothering to monitor the rip in the bag. Harry ducked as two jellies stuck together whizzed past his head and Draco warbled happily, planting himself down in the middle of the floor and noisily licking his fingers.
Not to mention giving him that cheering potion, Harry chided himself darkly as Draco flopped onto his back, writhing like a cat and singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" dreadfully off key (not that the young man *could* ever hit the notes). Perhaps a quick bang over the head with a frying pan would be the quickest way out of this tedious situation..... Nah, he doubted a rabid elephant of iron could douse Draco's sudden - if artificial and sugar induced - hyperactivity. In short, Harry was going to have to face the music and deal with his lover's loud and rambunctious behavior until he hit the utmost low of his sugar high and lugged around the house, flopping onto everything and moaning piteously like a dying Sasquatch. Who knew, maybe they could spend some of that pent up energy later, after Harry finished the barely started letter to his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. After all, he hadn't spoken to them in over a month, and Hermione *was* expecting their first (and more than likely last) child.
His hand hovered over the parchment, which on was written less than two sentences. Well, if you counted the date and a 'Hey mates' as sentences. But it was awfully hard with Draco now convinced that he was nothing short of an abnormally huge queen hornet who was laying eggs. Least to say, it was rather distracting.
"Can you please go entertain yourself elsewhere!" snapped Harry, all too aware he sounded like his old teacher, Professor McGonnagal.
Draco gave him the wateriest, sappiest, sweetest, most incredibly hurt puppy face that Harry had ever seen and the raven haired man felt he had done the greatest wrong.
"Oh!" he wailed, flinging himself onto Draco, "Can you forgive me!?!"
Draco patted his back distantly, his wide eyes wandering to the kitchen. Dumping Harry in a heap on the floor, Draco rocketed into the connecting room and broke into the pantry. Harry crawled up onto his knees and knew that the worst had come.
He caught the pack of "Rowntree's Jelly Tots" and rolled his eyes. Draco got himself several bags, ripping them open and pouring the whole of the contents into his mouth; all in one go. Harry could just stare blankly. Some stray powder whispered up into Draco's nose as he was chewing enthusiastically and next Harry knew, Draco was choking, coughing, and sneezing the jelly candies all at once. Unfortunately, Harry was directly in the line of fire and got pelted with the soggy gummies in the face. He cringed.
Draco finally toppled over, gasping for breath and picking up the Tots all over the floor, popping them cheerfully back into his mouth. Then, mouth stuffed, he turned to a very irritable Harry - who at the moment had a grape Tot hanging determinedly from his nose - and exclaimed heartily, spitting out more jellies, "Best damn candy in all of England, I say!"
Harry didn't even bother to clean himself off, but tried instead to write. Draco took care of the jellies, nipping them from Harry's face, clothes, and hair. *That* proved to be even more distracting then the damned queen bee. It also proved to bring up a rather tasty memory, and Harry found himself chuckling, cradling Draco in his lap as the sugar began to take it's toll on his partner. He leaned back, the letter forgotten.....
..... He was cornered. Again. Why did his sessions with Draco always seem to end this way, Harry would never know. Draco probably did it on purpose, damn him.
"I'm sorry, Draco," said Harry sheepishly, pressing into the tight corner of a back hall as Draco leaned into him, sharp elbow resting right next to Harry's ear. The Slytherin had gotten increasingly intense ever since he had had his way with Harry. "I can't keep leaving without explanation like this. Ron and Hermione are weirded out enough as it is," he reasoned desperately to the impassive countinence of the Slytherin, "Soon theyll go to Dumbledore and demand to know if he's got me in secret training or something-"
"You must really enjoy the sound of your own voice," said Draco tonelessly, inspecting his nails and shining them against Harry's flushed cheek, "Because you're really not making any sense, Potter. You're not *denying* me, are you?" A delicate eyebrow arched in feral interest and Harry shrank into himself, sputtering unintelligibly.
"No! It's just that - well, I'm sure you have countless people who could take my place and make you a lot happier. I - I mean, they won't have friends always breathing down their necks and stuff."
"Or your nervous problem? Stuttering speech? Lanky body? Your blatant naivete?"
Harry stared at the other boy, wide eyed. His breath fogged up his glasses, his head sunk down into the collar of his robes. "Well, I guess-"
"Because you *must* know that you're not anywhere *near* as perfect as myself, or even others in this bloody school."
"Yes-"
The gray eyes peered up at the ceiling with patient frustration. "Don't you see, you dull clod? Maybe I like that."
Harry was struck dumb, as Draco calmly reminded him he was, leaning back and pulling Harry with him sporting the same impenetrable calmness. The boy gracefully swung Harry around until he slammed into a small table holding a precious vase and was forced to bend back over the edge of the table, gasping as the sharp corner dug ruthlessly into his spine. Draco increased the pressure just slightly, until Harry began to plead quietly in a small voice. Then he let up and said flatly, "If they're distracted...."
"Y-yes, Draco."
"Very well then. I'll see you at dinner."
"Oh.... oh." Harry raised his hand in a weak farewell as Draco disappeared down the hall, robes billowing out behind him, not unlike a certain Potions professor. Harry felt his knees go weak and he clutched the side of the table, leaning on it heavily and taking down his glasses, rubbing them on the front of his robes to clear away the steam clinging to the think lenses.
Dreading what Draco had planned (for he knew the Slytherin had a plan of *something*, he knew the boy that well enough), Harry plodded slowly down the hall, making a pit stop at the corner where Draco had first trapped him to gather his things. In the dorm he found Ron and carefully put in place the mask of joking happiness. They waited for Seamus to get out of the loo, and all the boys from the dorm went down to lunch together, meeting some of the girls on their way.
The Great Hall was decorated extravagantly as usual, the sky a storming evening of grays and flashes of white. But Harry barely noticed. He scarcely talked through the whole meal, continuously shooting suspicious glances at the Slytherin table where his beautiful Draco laughed and sneered along with the others, pointedly ignoring the obvious staring aimed at his person.
"Hey, Harry!" Dean waved a hand in front of his face and snapped his fingers. Neville said something about Snape having been especially spiteful towards Harry earlier and everyone pretty much left him to his thoughts and his weary nerves.
I wonder if he's healthy for me, thought Harry dejectedly, only half listening as Hermione and Ron got into a heated argument over Gilderoy Lockhart. He snapped out of it when Seamus actually got to his feet and started bellowing on, trying to reach over everyone else. A couple of others got to their feet and Harry realized that practically the whole table had risen to the argument. Even some Ravenclaws had gotten to their feet. Harry shuddered, wondering if this could be enough of a distraction to sate the Slytherin. That way, no one got hurt or humiliated by the Slytherin to keep the school's attention while the two boys slipped away.
Less than a minute later, Harry found out it was not at all.
Dumbledore turned a blind eye to the students' behavior, saying once, and only once when Snape raised a protest, that the children would be doing good in exercising their debating skills and independant opinion. Snape sat back down, muttering darkly under his breath that he highly doubted the subject of Gilderoy Lockhart to pose as a formidable study guide and example of independant thinking. The whole bloody world was going to Hell, and the mashed potatoes were cold, dammit.
That was when Draco sprung the attack and hit Seamus in the side of the face with a huge bowl of rice pudding.
Seamus stood on top of the table, dripping in the white gook. It took a few minutes before people (including Seamus himself) started to laugh. He began to step down from the table, deciding that the rice pudding had been the ending remark of the argument, which had branched off to the subject of Hermione's failed project of SPEW. Unfortunately (or *fortunately*, really depending on opinion) he was wrong, and it was only the beginning.
Draco, who Harry had earlier learned to be able to throw his voice rather well, bellowed at the top of his lungs into the milling crowd of lightly laughing students, "FOOOOOOD FIGHT!!!!"
It was then all Hell broke loose. Harry had the fleeting image of tiny Professor Flitwick diving beneath the teacher's table before he was walloped in the head by a jiggling mass of lime jello. People started choosing teams, and even the teachers joined in, rallying their houses and bellowing orders to their makeshift troops. Dumbledore had somehow changed into the striped robes of a referee and floated happily above the messy mix of food and people, keeping track of hits on a giant scoreboard levitating above the crowd.
Harry was yanked down under a table, narrowly missing getting bludgeoned with a thick leg of turkey by Snape, who had decided the Hell with it, and grabbed the nearest cooked foul, his sights on Harry.
Gray eyes danced with mirth and Harry marveled at the Slytherin for a short minute before he was being dragged through the whole mess of people. From above, more food started dropping as Dumbledore spelled the ceiling to rain food. When he stumbled through the doorway, Harry caught a glimpse of Neville, who had burrowed inside a mountain of chairs, hoarding food.
As the doors swung shut, Harry grinned at the sight of Hermione leaping on the top of a table, uttering a deafening war cry, and tackling Millicent Bullstrode into a huge mountainous cake.
The quiet of the empty classroom rung in Harry's ears. He stood in the middle of the room, scratching his head and wrinkling his nose at what he pulled from the sticky strands of hair. Draco was working on the door, locking it and making sure no one was around. They had almost been caught by Filch once in a broom closet. Luckily Peeves had set fire to the Charms classroom and they had been spared. Though Draco later told Harry as the Gryffindor lay breathing heavily against his chest, skin moist with sweat, "I would've just invited him to join us. Then he wouldn't have spilled a word." Harry had just gawked at him and then been informed that Draco liked it best when he looked that way, all stupid and Griffindorey.
Now the Slytherin shut the door, reapplying more locking charms on the inside. Done, he surveyed his work with a critical eye, hands resting on his tapered hips. Harry took a moment to look enviously over Draco's perfectly styled hair with annoyance. The boy had managed to escape any food! How he did it, Harry didn't even think he wanted to follow up the answer on that question. Draco was Draco, there was nothing else to it.
His thoughts were interrupted by Draco's hand pushing aside the fabric of his robes. When he stood shaking in his boxers, arms crossed tightly over his torso, Draco stood back and gave him an odd, searching look, before lithely stripping himself. Harry diverted his eyes and Draco's brow furrowed. He walked over to Harry and took his chin roughly, lifting his face and glaring at the other boy. As his heated glare was returned with a pitiful whimper, Draco sighed and ran his tongue from the corner of Harry's eye to the point of his chin. Harry closed his eyes.
Cold stung and bit at the shrinking flesh of Harry's back. He gasped, his breath hitching. Draco ignored it and continued to tongue bathe the Gryffindor, yanking down the scarlet boxers over the pale jutting hips. He paused and Harry tensed. White hands traced over the bone at Harry's side and the boy sucked on his lower lip, eyes wide with worry. Draco rocked back on the balls of his feet, glaring at him in a way Harry had never before seen.
With a casual wave of his wand, Draco took the food coating Harry off of the slim body and pressed his lips into a thin line. Harry sat up, terrified. What had he done wrong?
"Why haven't you been eating?" asked Draco bluntly, his eyes going to Harry's too sharply defined ribs. "No - tell me, Potter," he said coldly as Harry sputtered out an answer, "No excuses. I've been noticing you stopped eating as much at meals. What the hell is wrong?"
How would you even notice, Harry wanted to shout, You never even acknowledge my existence! Instead, he lied quietly, "Just working extra hard at Quidditch, that's all. All the extra practice leaves me a little drained and - and my stomach can't really handle it-"
"Cut the shite, Potter." Draco was now very close to Harry. For some reason, Harry was overcome with fear as the strong fingers poked and prodded him. He gave a small cry as Draco jerked him roughly by his thin shoulders, demanding the truth from him. Harry cursed himself as his head bowed, hiding away the tears rimming his eyes. "Has someone hurt you," demanded Draco, and Harry looked up, amazed by the hatred under the quiet tone. But Draco's eyes burned and Harry realized that Draco was actually sincere.
"No," he said, a little bewildered. What was going on? Now that he thought about it, everything had been strange lately. He had heard, in the halls, people talking about how Draco has just.... stopped. They said the famous Slytherin had finally found someone. But no one knew who.
"Dammit. C'mon." Harry was yanked to his feet and dressed with a hard gentleness by Draco. He watched the blonde in a thoughtful awe and didn't make a sound as he was led to the portrait of fruit. Draco tickled the pear and ducked inside the entrance, pulling Harry in behind him.
House elves flooded around their ankles and Harry waved at a scraggly little Doby, who waved happily back until he caught sight of Draco, whereas he squeaked and bolted. He quickly forgot about the house elf when he and Draco were seated at a table and served dishes of Hogwarts' finest. Draco artfully selected a meal for Harry, glancing back at him every other dish, as if comparing the food to the boy. Finally Harry was looking at a five course dinner containing every required food group. Draco watched him eat with a closed, impassive look. Harry found it nerve wracking, but said nothing. Whenever he slowed in his eating, Draco would raise his chin up off his hands and give Harry a warning look. Harry wondered if this was what it was like to have a mother.
"I really can't eat any more," he insisted weakly to the house elves, who still offered him plates of food after second helpings of everything. He felt thoroughly stuffed, and happy when he turned to see Draco smiling. They both went over and sat in front of the fire where Harry had seen Crouch's house elf before. Draco drank a butter beer and made light conversation, something Harry had never known him to do before. With Draco, it was all strictly physical. This was definitely new. But nice, definitely nice.
With his head resting comfortably in Draco's lap, Harry let his mind wander. The more he thought about it, the more the rumors he had heard thrown about could prove to be true. Had Draco found someone indeed. Was that someone him? Too scared to ask, Harry nuzzled the Slytherin's hand as it lightly petted his cheek. Hands moved over his face, cupping his chin and angling his head upwards to accept Draco's moist lips in an interesting upside down kiss. Harry smiled against Draco's mouth, parting his lips to take Draco's tongue, stroking the probing muscle with his own softly. Yes, *very* interesting.
House elves stopped their work momentarily to watch the two boys, their profiles sharply defined by the dancing orange flames of the fire. Two house elves carrying a tray of cookies and hot chocolate crept up quietly and deposited their load next to the boys, scuttling away as Draco pressed down on top of Harry lengthwise, tangling his long fingers in the ebony locks and plucking the glasses from the pretty face.
Harry moaned quietly, suckling Draco's tongue and rubbing the arched back in wide circles before moving lower to grasp at rounded flesh. Draco hissed in his ear, biting at his shoulder. For some reason, the atmosphere and the events and possibilities of the evening made Harry feel..... alive. He usually let Draco take the lead, but now it seemed appropriate that he give a little also.
Draco made a small sound in the back of his throat as he found himself rolled onto his back, Harry arching his body into him with a smooth feline grace. The house elves gave each other looks, but did nothing.
"I guess you've decided to turn the tables, then," groaned Draco, grinding his hips into Harry.
"For tonight, lover," Harry breathed onto Draco's vulnerable throat, "You're going to feel what it is to be mine." Draco purred, moving beneath him beautifully, regarding Harry in a new light, veiled by his heavy black lashes, shaded like feathers of ink over his bone white cheeks. Harry shot him a coy smile and grasped both of Draco wrists tightly in his hand, holding them firmly above Draco's head.
"Harry," Draco chuckled, licking the side of the boy's face, "You are right for the food of the Gods-" The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a low groan. The house elves did nothing, and continued to work.....
..... "Harry James Potter! Where exactly did all my creamy peanut butter go? You wouldn't be *eating* it, would you, darling," purred Draco lethally from inside the kitchen. He was on a mission to find his peanut butter, his invincible medicine that when mixed with bananas, worked magic on him, body and spirit.
Harry froze, hand (covered in gloppy layers of peanut butter) stuck halfway into his mouth. Being as Harry was the one to have to deal with Draco's hyper spell, he thought it rightfully deserved that he get some of the precious peanut butter. Unfortunetely, the jar sat right in view of the prowling blonde, anchored between his knees, almost entirely emptied of its sticky continents. He heard Draco starting towards the door and tried to say something, but his whole mouth was stopped up with peanut butter. He panicked.
"Love, what are you-" Draco froze, eyebrow piqued with a cynical amusement as his gaze traveled over the odd scene before him: Harry's bright eyes were bugged out of his head and one hand shoved halfway down in his pants. "Well, well, well," cooed Draco smoothly, "I can see you're in the middle of - ah - *something*, so I'll just duck back in here until your done." He grinned evilly and gave Harry an exaggerated wink before disappearing. Harry let out a huge sigh and stared dismally down at the improbable bulge in his pants. Damn jar was cold too! "Leave it to me, the great Gryffindor - known for their genius plans - to think of such a spontaneous idea as stuffing the bloody peanut butter jar that has been sitting in the fridge, out of Draco's sight by using my pants as the safe house. Merlin."
Just as he was slipping the jar out, Draco leapt back into the living room and shrieked triumphantly, "AHA!! I *thought* so, you little thief." He stomped over and yanked the jar from Harry's hands, adding over his shoulder flippantly as he sailed through the kitchen doorway, "Oh, and by the way.... next time you want to hide the fact that you were pigging out on MY creamy peanut butter, remember to wipe your bloody - er - peanut buttery mouth, doll. That might just clue me in a bit. Nice try, though." He paused and turned back to Harry, a mischievous glint in his eye. "For a Gryffindor and all."
A/N: Anyone ever had Rowntree's Jelly Tots? I was in Spokane and stumbled across this spiffy little British shop. I got a packet and liked them so much, I had to put them in a story! And R/Hr will be coming in the future, too! Anyhooslers, sorry for the delay of posting this. I had to finish another story and that took over all my time. Au revoir!
~*Villain*~
Remmy: *whispers* I haven't really figured that part out yet.
superman cant walk: I went from an F to a C in algebra! Go me, go!
Lady Rillen: Goodness, lovey, you had me blushing in my own home!! *giggles*
Kimmy: *salutes jerkily* Yes, ma'am!!
~~~~O_o*
Chapter Five: The Food of the Gods
Merlin's beard, thought Harry, Why ever did I think it wise to give Draco *that* much sugar? He watched his lover with wry bemusement as Draco practically bounced off the walls, spraying Jelly Tots all over the floor while swinging his arms and not bothering to monitor the rip in the bag. Harry ducked as two jellies stuck together whizzed past his head and Draco warbled happily, planting himself down in the middle of the floor and noisily licking his fingers.
Not to mention giving him that cheering potion, Harry chided himself darkly as Draco flopped onto his back, writhing like a cat and singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" dreadfully off key (not that the young man *could* ever hit the notes). Perhaps a quick bang over the head with a frying pan would be the quickest way out of this tedious situation..... Nah, he doubted a rabid elephant of iron could douse Draco's sudden - if artificial and sugar induced - hyperactivity. In short, Harry was going to have to face the music and deal with his lover's loud and rambunctious behavior until he hit the utmost low of his sugar high and lugged around the house, flopping onto everything and moaning piteously like a dying Sasquatch. Who knew, maybe they could spend some of that pent up energy later, after Harry finished the barely started letter to his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. After all, he hadn't spoken to them in over a month, and Hermione *was* expecting their first (and more than likely last) child.
His hand hovered over the parchment, which on was written less than two sentences. Well, if you counted the date and a 'Hey mates' as sentences. But it was awfully hard with Draco now convinced that he was nothing short of an abnormally huge queen hornet who was laying eggs. Least to say, it was rather distracting.
"Can you please go entertain yourself elsewhere!" snapped Harry, all too aware he sounded like his old teacher, Professor McGonnagal.
Draco gave him the wateriest, sappiest, sweetest, most incredibly hurt puppy face that Harry had ever seen and the raven haired man felt he had done the greatest wrong.
"Oh!" he wailed, flinging himself onto Draco, "Can you forgive me!?!"
Draco patted his back distantly, his wide eyes wandering to the kitchen. Dumping Harry in a heap on the floor, Draco rocketed into the connecting room and broke into the pantry. Harry crawled up onto his knees and knew that the worst had come.
He caught the pack of "Rowntree's Jelly Tots" and rolled his eyes. Draco got himself several bags, ripping them open and pouring the whole of the contents into his mouth; all in one go. Harry could just stare blankly. Some stray powder whispered up into Draco's nose as he was chewing enthusiastically and next Harry knew, Draco was choking, coughing, and sneezing the jelly candies all at once. Unfortunately, Harry was directly in the line of fire and got pelted with the soggy gummies in the face. He cringed.
Draco finally toppled over, gasping for breath and picking up the Tots all over the floor, popping them cheerfully back into his mouth. Then, mouth stuffed, he turned to a very irritable Harry - who at the moment had a grape Tot hanging determinedly from his nose - and exclaimed heartily, spitting out more jellies, "Best damn candy in all of England, I say!"
Harry didn't even bother to clean himself off, but tried instead to write. Draco took care of the jellies, nipping them from Harry's face, clothes, and hair. *That* proved to be even more distracting then the damned queen bee. It also proved to bring up a rather tasty memory, and Harry found himself chuckling, cradling Draco in his lap as the sugar began to take it's toll on his partner. He leaned back, the letter forgotten.....
..... He was cornered. Again. Why did his sessions with Draco always seem to end this way, Harry would never know. Draco probably did it on purpose, damn him.
"I'm sorry, Draco," said Harry sheepishly, pressing into the tight corner of a back hall as Draco leaned into him, sharp elbow resting right next to Harry's ear. The Slytherin had gotten increasingly intense ever since he had had his way with Harry. "I can't keep leaving without explanation like this. Ron and Hermione are weirded out enough as it is," he reasoned desperately to the impassive countinence of the Slytherin, "Soon theyll go to Dumbledore and demand to know if he's got me in secret training or something-"
"You must really enjoy the sound of your own voice," said Draco tonelessly, inspecting his nails and shining them against Harry's flushed cheek, "Because you're really not making any sense, Potter. You're not *denying* me, are you?" A delicate eyebrow arched in feral interest and Harry shrank into himself, sputtering unintelligibly.
"No! It's just that - well, I'm sure you have countless people who could take my place and make you a lot happier. I - I mean, they won't have friends always breathing down their necks and stuff."
"Or your nervous problem? Stuttering speech? Lanky body? Your blatant naivete?"
Harry stared at the other boy, wide eyed. His breath fogged up his glasses, his head sunk down into the collar of his robes. "Well, I guess-"
"Because you *must* know that you're not anywhere *near* as perfect as myself, or even others in this bloody school."
"Yes-"
The gray eyes peered up at the ceiling with patient frustration. "Don't you see, you dull clod? Maybe I like that."
Harry was struck dumb, as Draco calmly reminded him he was, leaning back and pulling Harry with him sporting the same impenetrable calmness. The boy gracefully swung Harry around until he slammed into a small table holding a precious vase and was forced to bend back over the edge of the table, gasping as the sharp corner dug ruthlessly into his spine. Draco increased the pressure just slightly, until Harry began to plead quietly in a small voice. Then he let up and said flatly, "If they're distracted...."
"Y-yes, Draco."
"Very well then. I'll see you at dinner."
"Oh.... oh." Harry raised his hand in a weak farewell as Draco disappeared down the hall, robes billowing out behind him, not unlike a certain Potions professor. Harry felt his knees go weak and he clutched the side of the table, leaning on it heavily and taking down his glasses, rubbing them on the front of his robes to clear away the steam clinging to the think lenses.
Dreading what Draco had planned (for he knew the Slytherin had a plan of *something*, he knew the boy that well enough), Harry plodded slowly down the hall, making a pit stop at the corner where Draco had first trapped him to gather his things. In the dorm he found Ron and carefully put in place the mask of joking happiness. They waited for Seamus to get out of the loo, and all the boys from the dorm went down to lunch together, meeting some of the girls on their way.
The Great Hall was decorated extravagantly as usual, the sky a storming evening of grays and flashes of white. But Harry barely noticed. He scarcely talked through the whole meal, continuously shooting suspicious glances at the Slytherin table where his beautiful Draco laughed and sneered along with the others, pointedly ignoring the obvious staring aimed at his person.
"Hey, Harry!" Dean waved a hand in front of his face and snapped his fingers. Neville said something about Snape having been especially spiteful towards Harry earlier and everyone pretty much left him to his thoughts and his weary nerves.
I wonder if he's healthy for me, thought Harry dejectedly, only half listening as Hermione and Ron got into a heated argument over Gilderoy Lockhart. He snapped out of it when Seamus actually got to his feet and started bellowing on, trying to reach over everyone else. A couple of others got to their feet and Harry realized that practically the whole table had risen to the argument. Even some Ravenclaws had gotten to their feet. Harry shuddered, wondering if this could be enough of a distraction to sate the Slytherin. That way, no one got hurt or humiliated by the Slytherin to keep the school's attention while the two boys slipped away.
Less than a minute later, Harry found out it was not at all.
Dumbledore turned a blind eye to the students' behavior, saying once, and only once when Snape raised a protest, that the children would be doing good in exercising their debating skills and independant opinion. Snape sat back down, muttering darkly under his breath that he highly doubted the subject of Gilderoy Lockhart to pose as a formidable study guide and example of independant thinking. The whole bloody world was going to Hell, and the mashed potatoes were cold, dammit.
That was when Draco sprung the attack and hit Seamus in the side of the face with a huge bowl of rice pudding.
Seamus stood on top of the table, dripping in the white gook. It took a few minutes before people (including Seamus himself) started to laugh. He began to step down from the table, deciding that the rice pudding had been the ending remark of the argument, which had branched off to the subject of Hermione's failed project of SPEW. Unfortunately (or *fortunately*, really depending on opinion) he was wrong, and it was only the beginning.
Draco, who Harry had earlier learned to be able to throw his voice rather well, bellowed at the top of his lungs into the milling crowd of lightly laughing students, "FOOOOOOD FIGHT!!!!"
It was then all Hell broke loose. Harry had the fleeting image of tiny Professor Flitwick diving beneath the teacher's table before he was walloped in the head by a jiggling mass of lime jello. People started choosing teams, and even the teachers joined in, rallying their houses and bellowing orders to their makeshift troops. Dumbledore had somehow changed into the striped robes of a referee and floated happily above the messy mix of food and people, keeping track of hits on a giant scoreboard levitating above the crowd.
Harry was yanked down under a table, narrowly missing getting bludgeoned with a thick leg of turkey by Snape, who had decided the Hell with it, and grabbed the nearest cooked foul, his sights on Harry.
Gray eyes danced with mirth and Harry marveled at the Slytherin for a short minute before he was being dragged through the whole mess of people. From above, more food started dropping as Dumbledore spelled the ceiling to rain food. When he stumbled through the doorway, Harry caught a glimpse of Neville, who had burrowed inside a mountain of chairs, hoarding food.
As the doors swung shut, Harry grinned at the sight of Hermione leaping on the top of a table, uttering a deafening war cry, and tackling Millicent Bullstrode into a huge mountainous cake.
The quiet of the empty classroom rung in Harry's ears. He stood in the middle of the room, scratching his head and wrinkling his nose at what he pulled from the sticky strands of hair. Draco was working on the door, locking it and making sure no one was around. They had almost been caught by Filch once in a broom closet. Luckily Peeves had set fire to the Charms classroom and they had been spared. Though Draco later told Harry as the Gryffindor lay breathing heavily against his chest, skin moist with sweat, "I would've just invited him to join us. Then he wouldn't have spilled a word." Harry had just gawked at him and then been informed that Draco liked it best when he looked that way, all stupid and Griffindorey.
Now the Slytherin shut the door, reapplying more locking charms on the inside. Done, he surveyed his work with a critical eye, hands resting on his tapered hips. Harry took a moment to look enviously over Draco's perfectly styled hair with annoyance. The boy had managed to escape any food! How he did it, Harry didn't even think he wanted to follow up the answer on that question. Draco was Draco, there was nothing else to it.
His thoughts were interrupted by Draco's hand pushing aside the fabric of his robes. When he stood shaking in his boxers, arms crossed tightly over his torso, Draco stood back and gave him an odd, searching look, before lithely stripping himself. Harry diverted his eyes and Draco's brow furrowed. He walked over to Harry and took his chin roughly, lifting his face and glaring at the other boy. As his heated glare was returned with a pitiful whimper, Draco sighed and ran his tongue from the corner of Harry's eye to the point of his chin. Harry closed his eyes.
Cold stung and bit at the shrinking flesh of Harry's back. He gasped, his breath hitching. Draco ignored it and continued to tongue bathe the Gryffindor, yanking down the scarlet boxers over the pale jutting hips. He paused and Harry tensed. White hands traced over the bone at Harry's side and the boy sucked on his lower lip, eyes wide with worry. Draco rocked back on the balls of his feet, glaring at him in a way Harry had never before seen.
With a casual wave of his wand, Draco took the food coating Harry off of the slim body and pressed his lips into a thin line. Harry sat up, terrified. What had he done wrong?
"Why haven't you been eating?" asked Draco bluntly, his eyes going to Harry's too sharply defined ribs. "No - tell me, Potter," he said coldly as Harry sputtered out an answer, "No excuses. I've been noticing you stopped eating as much at meals. What the hell is wrong?"
How would you even notice, Harry wanted to shout, You never even acknowledge my existence! Instead, he lied quietly, "Just working extra hard at Quidditch, that's all. All the extra practice leaves me a little drained and - and my stomach can't really handle it-"
"Cut the shite, Potter." Draco was now very close to Harry. For some reason, Harry was overcome with fear as the strong fingers poked and prodded him. He gave a small cry as Draco jerked him roughly by his thin shoulders, demanding the truth from him. Harry cursed himself as his head bowed, hiding away the tears rimming his eyes. "Has someone hurt you," demanded Draco, and Harry looked up, amazed by the hatred under the quiet tone. But Draco's eyes burned and Harry realized that Draco was actually sincere.
"No," he said, a little bewildered. What was going on? Now that he thought about it, everything had been strange lately. He had heard, in the halls, people talking about how Draco has just.... stopped. They said the famous Slytherin had finally found someone. But no one knew who.
"Dammit. C'mon." Harry was yanked to his feet and dressed with a hard gentleness by Draco. He watched the blonde in a thoughtful awe and didn't make a sound as he was led to the portrait of fruit. Draco tickled the pear and ducked inside the entrance, pulling Harry in behind him.
House elves flooded around their ankles and Harry waved at a scraggly little Doby, who waved happily back until he caught sight of Draco, whereas he squeaked and bolted. He quickly forgot about the house elf when he and Draco were seated at a table and served dishes of Hogwarts' finest. Draco artfully selected a meal for Harry, glancing back at him every other dish, as if comparing the food to the boy. Finally Harry was looking at a five course dinner containing every required food group. Draco watched him eat with a closed, impassive look. Harry found it nerve wracking, but said nothing. Whenever he slowed in his eating, Draco would raise his chin up off his hands and give Harry a warning look. Harry wondered if this was what it was like to have a mother.
"I really can't eat any more," he insisted weakly to the house elves, who still offered him plates of food after second helpings of everything. He felt thoroughly stuffed, and happy when he turned to see Draco smiling. They both went over and sat in front of the fire where Harry had seen Crouch's house elf before. Draco drank a butter beer and made light conversation, something Harry had never known him to do before. With Draco, it was all strictly physical. This was definitely new. But nice, definitely nice.
With his head resting comfortably in Draco's lap, Harry let his mind wander. The more he thought about it, the more the rumors he had heard thrown about could prove to be true. Had Draco found someone indeed. Was that someone him? Too scared to ask, Harry nuzzled the Slytherin's hand as it lightly petted his cheek. Hands moved over his face, cupping his chin and angling his head upwards to accept Draco's moist lips in an interesting upside down kiss. Harry smiled against Draco's mouth, parting his lips to take Draco's tongue, stroking the probing muscle with his own softly. Yes, *very* interesting.
House elves stopped their work momentarily to watch the two boys, their profiles sharply defined by the dancing orange flames of the fire. Two house elves carrying a tray of cookies and hot chocolate crept up quietly and deposited their load next to the boys, scuttling away as Draco pressed down on top of Harry lengthwise, tangling his long fingers in the ebony locks and plucking the glasses from the pretty face.
Harry moaned quietly, suckling Draco's tongue and rubbing the arched back in wide circles before moving lower to grasp at rounded flesh. Draco hissed in his ear, biting at his shoulder. For some reason, the atmosphere and the events and possibilities of the evening made Harry feel..... alive. He usually let Draco take the lead, but now it seemed appropriate that he give a little also.
Draco made a small sound in the back of his throat as he found himself rolled onto his back, Harry arching his body into him with a smooth feline grace. The house elves gave each other looks, but did nothing.
"I guess you've decided to turn the tables, then," groaned Draco, grinding his hips into Harry.
"For tonight, lover," Harry breathed onto Draco's vulnerable throat, "You're going to feel what it is to be mine." Draco purred, moving beneath him beautifully, regarding Harry in a new light, veiled by his heavy black lashes, shaded like feathers of ink over his bone white cheeks. Harry shot him a coy smile and grasped both of Draco wrists tightly in his hand, holding them firmly above Draco's head.
"Harry," Draco chuckled, licking the side of the boy's face, "You are right for the food of the Gods-" The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a low groan. The house elves did nothing, and continued to work.....
..... "Harry James Potter! Where exactly did all my creamy peanut butter go? You wouldn't be *eating* it, would you, darling," purred Draco lethally from inside the kitchen. He was on a mission to find his peanut butter, his invincible medicine that when mixed with bananas, worked magic on him, body and spirit.
Harry froze, hand (covered in gloppy layers of peanut butter) stuck halfway into his mouth. Being as Harry was the one to have to deal with Draco's hyper spell, he thought it rightfully deserved that he get some of the precious peanut butter. Unfortunetely, the jar sat right in view of the prowling blonde, anchored between his knees, almost entirely emptied of its sticky continents. He heard Draco starting towards the door and tried to say something, but his whole mouth was stopped up with peanut butter. He panicked.
"Love, what are you-" Draco froze, eyebrow piqued with a cynical amusement as his gaze traveled over the odd scene before him: Harry's bright eyes were bugged out of his head and one hand shoved halfway down in his pants. "Well, well, well," cooed Draco smoothly, "I can see you're in the middle of - ah - *something*, so I'll just duck back in here until your done." He grinned evilly and gave Harry an exaggerated wink before disappearing. Harry let out a huge sigh and stared dismally down at the improbable bulge in his pants. Damn jar was cold too! "Leave it to me, the great Gryffindor - known for their genius plans - to think of such a spontaneous idea as stuffing the bloody peanut butter jar that has been sitting in the fridge, out of Draco's sight by using my pants as the safe house. Merlin."
Just as he was slipping the jar out, Draco leapt back into the living room and shrieked triumphantly, "AHA!! I *thought* so, you little thief." He stomped over and yanked the jar from Harry's hands, adding over his shoulder flippantly as he sailed through the kitchen doorway, "Oh, and by the way.... next time you want to hide the fact that you were pigging out on MY creamy peanut butter, remember to wipe your bloody - er - peanut buttery mouth, doll. That might just clue me in a bit. Nice try, though." He paused and turned back to Harry, a mischievous glint in his eye. "For a Gryffindor and all."
A/N: Anyone ever had Rowntree's Jelly Tots? I was in Spokane and stumbled across this spiffy little British shop. I got a packet and liked them so much, I had to put them in a story! And R/Hr will be coming in the future, too! Anyhooslers, sorry for the delay of posting this. I had to finish another story and that took over all my time. Au revoir!
~*Villain*~