Warning-----------------This story contains slash ---- that is homosexual
relationships. The author takes no responsibility for offence taken. YOU
HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Disclaimer----------------all characters belong to the goddess J.K.Rowling. This is a non-profit work of fanfiction purely written for the purposes enjoyment.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------
you'll never know, dear
just how much I loved you
you'll probably think this was
just my big excuse
- ani di franco
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------
Dumbledore's office is a strangely cramped space. The walls are lined with an eclectic collection of magical paraphernalia and behind his desk a magnificent phoenix grooms itself. The old Professor sits behind a huge oak desk cluttered with objects that look suspiciously like junk. He is unassuming in his manner; anybody who didn't know better could be forgiven for mistaking him for the Headmaster's clerk.
He using silence as a ploy to make me speak, but I refuse to admit it is getting to me. I concentrate on setting my face like stone and sitting perfectly still. Any moment now my foot will begin tapping nervously.
"So, Mr Malfoy," he finally says, unmoving. "Can you explain to me what happened?"
I push away the sudden feeling of deja vu and speak perhaps a bit too sharply; "I think you already know that, sir."
To my surprise, a small smile lights up his face with kindness. What sort of sucker does he think I am?
"You do realise, Draco, that this sort of offence will most likely result in expulsion."
Of course I've realised. I'm fucking terrified. If I get kicked out of here I quite possibly will not have a home to return to.
"Is there anything you would like to -"
His words are cut off abruptly as the door to his office swings open so hard it slams against the wall.
"Excuse my interruption, Professor, but there are a few things you should know," Potter pants as he sweeps through the doorway.
Dumbledore examines the new arrival, and I wait for the backlash that never comes. Instead, the Headmaster motions to a chair and invites Potter to sit.
"Go ahead, Harry."
The boy takes a deep breath and launches into a hurried explanation.
"You see, sir, Hermione told me everything, and I thought you should know that..."
I must have missed something here. What the hell does this have to do with my future at Hogwarts?
"...and then they both fell down the stairs, and Ron swung the first punch..."
I've entered an alternate reality. Or at least lost my grip on this one.
"...so, you see, there was more to it, and..."
More to it? I beat your best friend senseless.
"...well, I just thought you should know all of the facts," he finishes.
Dumbledore taps his fingers on the desk thoughtfully.
"Thank you, Harry. You may be excused." The boy nods obediently and leaves, pulling the door gently behind him. My eyes travel back to the old man.
"Well, in light of that information, Mr Malfoy, we can make a clearer decision about your future. I think you owe Mr Potter a thank you." I'm still trying to catch up. "Sir?"
"I will inform your parents of this misdemeanor, and this will serve as a stern warning. Professor Snape will organise your punishment."
"I'm not leaving?"
He shakes his head kindly and my whole body turns to jelly with relief. Oh, thank the gods.
"However," he adds, "I have been hearing some perturbing reports about your behaviour of late."
This was inevitable.
"Many of the staff seem to feel you are a very angry person, Draco."
My eyes widen. Me? An angry person?
"Is there anything you would like to discuss with me, Draco?"
No, you doddering old twit. Not if my life depended on it.
"No, thank you, sir."
He sighs softly, and I feel I have somehow disappointed him.
"Well, then, you may be excused."
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I feel dizzy walking down the stairs of Dumbledore's office. My head is a whirlpool of thoughts, and I feel as though I am moving inside a dream. Over and over again a little voice in my head asks 'what just happened?'
Oh great. There's Potter. Waiting next to the statue to gloat about his heroic efforts to save a lost cause.
"What happened?" he asks. I examine his face for a touch of malice, but he seems genuine.
"Excuse me?" I reply, and stroll past him.
"What did he say?" He is following me down the corridor like a stray dog.
"I'm not expelled."
"That's great!" Merlin, he's irritating. I stop and face him suddenly, and he skids to a halt.
"Thank you." That took a little too much effort. But he is smiling now, and maybe he will leave me alone. I start walking again.
"Any time, Malfoy!" My stomach turns in repulsion.
"Potter," I turn to him and enunciate each word carefully. "I do not need a hero." He falls silent, and I walk away once again.
"You know what your problem is, Malfoy?" Oh, here we go. "Your problem is you don't care about anyone."
"Nor do I need a psychiatrist," I retort without stopping.
"Not even yourself," he finishes quietly.
I turn and glare at him so hard he cringes slightly. "What do you want, Potter?"
"I think," he pauses as if to consider his words carefully. "I think you need..."
"Need what?" I am standing inches away from him, my fist shaking with the effort of not swinging it. "What could you possibly give me, Potter?" I ask, viciously.
His eyes lower and his shoulders hunch slightly. It is unbearable, like watching a dog being hit by its master. Leaning in, I take his bottom lip into my mouth and pull it gently. His mouth opens slowly and allows me in to trace its roof with my tongue. I wait to feel a shiver run through his body before pulling back.
Listening to the rugged pace of his breath, I place my mouth so close to his ear he can feel my breath.
"Now fuck off, Potter." I turn and leave, sweeping my cloak behind me.
Disclaimer----------------all characters belong to the goddess J.K.Rowling. This is a non-profit work of fanfiction purely written for the purposes enjoyment.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------
you'll never know, dear
just how much I loved you
you'll probably think this was
just my big excuse
- ani di franco
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------
Dumbledore's office is a strangely cramped space. The walls are lined with an eclectic collection of magical paraphernalia and behind his desk a magnificent phoenix grooms itself. The old Professor sits behind a huge oak desk cluttered with objects that look suspiciously like junk. He is unassuming in his manner; anybody who didn't know better could be forgiven for mistaking him for the Headmaster's clerk.
He using silence as a ploy to make me speak, but I refuse to admit it is getting to me. I concentrate on setting my face like stone and sitting perfectly still. Any moment now my foot will begin tapping nervously.
"So, Mr Malfoy," he finally says, unmoving. "Can you explain to me what happened?"
I push away the sudden feeling of deja vu and speak perhaps a bit too sharply; "I think you already know that, sir."
To my surprise, a small smile lights up his face with kindness. What sort of sucker does he think I am?
"You do realise, Draco, that this sort of offence will most likely result in expulsion."
Of course I've realised. I'm fucking terrified. If I get kicked out of here I quite possibly will not have a home to return to.
"Is there anything you would like to -"
His words are cut off abruptly as the door to his office swings open so hard it slams against the wall.
"Excuse my interruption, Professor, but there are a few things you should know," Potter pants as he sweeps through the doorway.
Dumbledore examines the new arrival, and I wait for the backlash that never comes. Instead, the Headmaster motions to a chair and invites Potter to sit.
"Go ahead, Harry."
The boy takes a deep breath and launches into a hurried explanation.
"You see, sir, Hermione told me everything, and I thought you should know that..."
I must have missed something here. What the hell does this have to do with my future at Hogwarts?
"...and then they both fell down the stairs, and Ron swung the first punch..."
I've entered an alternate reality. Or at least lost my grip on this one.
"...so, you see, there was more to it, and..."
More to it? I beat your best friend senseless.
"...well, I just thought you should know all of the facts," he finishes.
Dumbledore taps his fingers on the desk thoughtfully.
"Thank you, Harry. You may be excused." The boy nods obediently and leaves, pulling the door gently behind him. My eyes travel back to the old man.
"Well, in light of that information, Mr Malfoy, we can make a clearer decision about your future. I think you owe Mr Potter a thank you." I'm still trying to catch up. "Sir?"
"I will inform your parents of this misdemeanor, and this will serve as a stern warning. Professor Snape will organise your punishment."
"I'm not leaving?"
He shakes his head kindly and my whole body turns to jelly with relief. Oh, thank the gods.
"However," he adds, "I have been hearing some perturbing reports about your behaviour of late."
This was inevitable.
"Many of the staff seem to feel you are a very angry person, Draco."
My eyes widen. Me? An angry person?
"Is there anything you would like to discuss with me, Draco?"
No, you doddering old twit. Not if my life depended on it.
"No, thank you, sir."
He sighs softly, and I feel I have somehow disappointed him.
"Well, then, you may be excused."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------
I feel dizzy walking down the stairs of Dumbledore's office. My head is a whirlpool of thoughts, and I feel as though I am moving inside a dream. Over and over again a little voice in my head asks 'what just happened?'
Oh great. There's Potter. Waiting next to the statue to gloat about his heroic efforts to save a lost cause.
"What happened?" he asks. I examine his face for a touch of malice, but he seems genuine.
"Excuse me?" I reply, and stroll past him.
"What did he say?" He is following me down the corridor like a stray dog.
"I'm not expelled."
"That's great!" Merlin, he's irritating. I stop and face him suddenly, and he skids to a halt.
"Thank you." That took a little too much effort. But he is smiling now, and maybe he will leave me alone. I start walking again.
"Any time, Malfoy!" My stomach turns in repulsion.
"Potter," I turn to him and enunciate each word carefully. "I do not need a hero." He falls silent, and I walk away once again.
"You know what your problem is, Malfoy?" Oh, here we go. "Your problem is you don't care about anyone."
"Nor do I need a psychiatrist," I retort without stopping.
"Not even yourself," he finishes quietly.
I turn and glare at him so hard he cringes slightly. "What do you want, Potter?"
"I think," he pauses as if to consider his words carefully. "I think you need..."
"Need what?" I am standing inches away from him, my fist shaking with the effort of not swinging it. "What could you possibly give me, Potter?" I ask, viciously.
His eyes lower and his shoulders hunch slightly. It is unbearable, like watching a dog being hit by its master. Leaning in, I take his bottom lip into my mouth and pull it gently. His mouth opens slowly and allows me in to trace its roof with my tongue. I wait to feel a shiver run through his body before pulling back.
Listening to the rugged pace of his breath, I place my mouth so close to his ear he can feel my breath.
"Now fuck off, Potter." I turn and leave, sweeping my cloak behind me.