Draco Malfoy and his Unknown Fate:
Author's Notes: Here's another favorite and Sirius shows up in this chapter. I suppose I should tell you there's going to be background Sirius/Remus, but I'm not going to dwell on it. Other ships will probably be Hermione/Ron, one sided Pansy/Snape, Blaise/Tracey, Seamus/Dean, Crabbe/Bulstrode and Flitwick/Giant Squid. The last one's a joke, just so you know. Hee hee.
Warnings for this chapter: Boring Quidditch stuff? Don't worry, the flirting at the end makes it worthwhile.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This will be slash (eventually). Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.
Draco closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of flight in the crisp winter air. He opened them again after a moment, pulling his broom into a beautiful Wronski Feint before twisting back up again into the open sky. The breathtaking landscape extended in all directions beneath him, so distant and pleasing to the eye from such heights. He had spent the previous week hiding in the dungeons and burying himself in his potions research to ward away the loneliness, but Snape had finally shooed him out with orders to get some fresh air, claiming that it would make him feel better. Once again, the Potions Master was right, much to Draco's annoyance.
Draco's mood had lightened considerably and he spent the better part of two hours simply flying and pulling off any trick stunts that came to mind. He kept himself occupied with a procession of corkscrews, swimmers turns, feints, flips, wheeling turns, loop de loops, spirals, lengths of time flying upside down, and other dangerous maneuvers that caused the flush of exertion to bloom in his cheeks and the glitter of adrenaline to appear in his eyes.
He exulted in the little felt freedom of free flying with little thought to his surroundings, simply feeling his way through the air with his Quicksilver and his instincts. This was flying; forget the constant game of trying to one-up the other Seeker. This was the way the game was meant to be played, but so often he'd gotten tangled in his own determination to outdo his opponent that it made him clumsy with eagerness or distracted. Leaving the resentment and jealousy on the ground left him free to fly in a wholehearted manner he could manage to achieve only in rare moments.
Finally, feeling the cold and the ache of well used muscles, he headed towards the ground and landed, dismounting his broom with a last wistful look. He made his way to the broom shed and polished his lovely broom with the linseed oil that Madame Hooch kept in the shed and trimmed its twigs with delicate precision. Once he had put away his borrowed polishing rag he sauntered leisurely towards the castle, meandering along peacefully with his broom slung over his shoulder. He was surprised to see Potter, Professor Lupin, and a dark haired man lounging on the frosty lawn, watching him approach them and chattering together in a friendly manner.
"Malfoy. Nice flying." Potter said in an even tone and Draco inclined his head slightly in thanks before turning to the stranger curiously. He had dark hair down to his shoulders and was thin, though ropy muscle covered his lean frame. Lupin, with his tawny gray-streaked hair and golden eyes, was watching the man with a small content smile on his lips. Potter saw Draco's look and cleared his throat, beaming a smile at Draco. Obviously he was on cloud nine or he wouldn't be flashing that spine-melting smile Draco's way. "And this is my godfather, Sirius Black. Sirius, this is Draco Malfoy."
"We've met." Sirius said, grinning a little to himself.
Potter was astonished. "You have?"
"We have?" Draco echoed.
"Yes, we have. You play a mean game of fetch." Draco stared, uncomprehending until a memory came to him; A memory of Dumbledore accepting his alibi because he'd been playing fetch with two dogs. He even remembered wondering if the Headmaster was going to ask Fang to vouch for him, but, it appeared he'd had the wrong dog.
"You! You're the Grim look a like, aren't you?"
"You played fetch with Malfoy?" Potter interrupted, looking like someone had announced the sky was green and that it had started to fall.
"Sure, why not? Moony didn't have time to play with me that day." Draco had to force himself to keep his face straight, suddenly reminded of the Bloody Baron's words about Lupin having a mysterious male lover. Play, his lily white arse.
Lupin rolled his eyes, remonstrating his old friend and lover gently. "The world doesn't revolve around you Padfoot. I had a meeting with Minerva."
"Yeah, yeah. That's what you always say. Take a seat, Malfoy. Lets have a look at that beauty of a broom of yours. She's gorgeous. You got a name for her?" Draco handed the Quicksilver over after a moment of hesitation and was gratified to see Potter was drooling over it too. He sat down gracefully next to the other boy and across from Black, finishing off the square their seated forms made.
"No. You name your brooms?" He asked, puzzled. Sirius laughed as Potter shook his head at his godfather's antics. Black passed the Quicksilver over to Potter, who examined it closely with a reverence that made Draco grin before handing it back to the smug Slytherin.
Black was talking all the while. "Yeah, of course! My first broom was Twiggy. She was a Nimbus 1000. She's nothing compared to the brooms these days, but back then she was top of the line. She was a good broom."
"Funny to call a broom a she when it's such a blatant phallic symbol." Draco commented blandly, satisfied to see Potter color up so prettily. Black threw back his head and laughed and the Slytherin even won a chuckle from Lupin with the comment. "Don't give me that scandalized look Potter."
"Quiet Malfoy." Potter ordered, half heartedly kicking out at him. "Is sex all you think about?" Draco tilted his head to the side, pretending to consider the question gravely.
"Hmm. Sex, food, sex, Quidditch, sex, wanking, sex, potions, and more sex. Seems like it, Potter. Let me guess, Saint Potter has never had a dirty thought in his heroic little head?" Draco asked, almost purring as he looked through his thick fringe of silver lashes at the Gryffindor who was starting to get flustered. The Slytherin caught Black elbowing Lupin meaningfully and grinning like a loon at them all the while. Obviously, he'd realized that Draco was blatantly flirting with his godson, though the godson in question wasn't half that swift.
With a head that thick it was no wonder the killing curse had bounced off it.
"No! I mean, yeah, but not like - you know. Oh shut up Malfoy."
"Ah, always so eloquent Potter. Ow, did you see that? Your godson is beating me up. You horrid brute, you've probably bruised me." Draco tossed his head in pique, removing the silky strands of wayward hair out of his eyes, and turned away from Potter. He sulked, nursing his aching side from where Potter had slugged him. "You uncivilized beast. I should take points off from Gryffindor for that."
"Oh, stop it Malfoy. I didn't hurt you." Draco merely sneered in reply, too busy prodding gently at his hurting torso to come up with a proper insult. "You baby. Here, let me see it."
Harry tugged him over by his arm and pulled up the hem of his jumper, examining the bruise blooming on his ribs. Draco's taut stomach was bared to the cold as was part of his chest, but Potter ignored his whining about the freezing temperature in favor of examining his 'wounds'. He could see Black wiggling his eyebrows at Lupin out of the corner of his eyes, though the Boy Who Lived was oblivious to it. Potter gently ran his fingers over the rapidly purpling skin, making Draco shiver. "See, you've turned me black and blue." He finally managed to say, his voice a bit huskier than it should have been. Not that Potter noticed.
"It's just a bruise. You'll heal, so stop pouting."
"I am not pouting, Potter." Draco said, pouting even more as Potter removed his hand. "Are you listening to this? He's heartless. A callous fiend, damaging my beautiful milky skin." Draco sulked as he pulled down his jumper.
"Oh please." Potter scoffed, rolling his eyes. "If you want to be vain about looking like an albino freak-"
"Albino freak?!" Draco hissed in outrage, truly mad now. He might have even been turning pink and he hated that, which just made him angrier.
But Potter forged on, "That's fine. But don't expect me to agree with your delusions."
Draco was livid, but Lupin stepped in. "Harry, apologize to Draco."
"Er, For hitting him or for the albino crack?"
"Both." Said Lupin, implacable. Black was too busy snickering at them all to do anything.
Potter sighed, but complied. "Fine. Malfoy, I'm sorry about punching you. And about calling you an albino freak. You're um - a rather decent looking bloke."
"Decent looking? I'm bloody gorgeous, Potter. And at least I'm not a speccy git."
"Malfoy." Lupin warned, his temper obviously wearing short at being forced to play peacemaker. Draco attempted to look contrite, but if Black's snickering was any clue it wasn't a very convincing. "Apologize to Harry."
"I'm sorry you're a speccy git, Potter." He said sincerely, snatching up his broomstick and darting off. "See you around!" He called before mounting in mid-stride ( because a little showing off never hurt anyone) and flying off towards the entrance of the castle, leaving Lupin to pinch the bridge of his nose, Potter to fume helplessly, and Black to laugh himself sick.
Yes, he was in a much better mood now.
To be Continued
Comments and constructive criticism are more than welcome.