Chapter Six
Harry was not really there.
It was strange, though. his mind seemed to have divided into three parts, each with sub-divisions and communication links. The first part of his brian was quite simply in denial. This was not happening. not to him, Harry Potter, and certainly not here with Draco Malfoy.
But while it was beaming this information steadily and consistently to the other sections of the brain, the second part was beaming back messages saying: "you're in denial. You've switched off; you are unable to cope with this situation. There is a reason for all this, just let me consult the finer points of Harry Potter and I shall get back to you shortly."
The third part, and the one Harry wished would just bugger off and leave him in peace, was the one part that accepted this situation at face value. The one that was admitting that yes, he was in the showers with Draco Malfoy, and yes, he was naked, and was even admitting that yes, Draco did look hot when naked.
Harry was not there. He was hiding, cowering in the part of his mind that was in denial, trying desperately not to see the pictures that the accepting part was forcing him to see: Draco's skin, which was the colour of pale porcelain, only a few shades more golden than his hair, the way the water ran over his shoulders, and down his chest, and still further down -
Harry bit his tongue, hard. It kept him from screaming and shut up the babbling voice in his head. I am not gay, he said to himself. I'm sure this is a perfectly normal reaction.
Draco was beginning to regret this idea. If it weren't for the fact that he was a Malfoy and a Slytherin, he would have pulled the pin and gone without showering for the second or third day in a row, and then he would have been spared the disturbing thoughts that were popping into his head.
It was also in all likelihood a blessing that Draco didn't know that Harry was thinking the exact same thoughts, but with variations. While Draco's thoughts roamed over Harry's pale skin, in such a contrast to the glossy wetness of his black hair, and the nicely toned muscle of his butt, his conscious mind was screaming at him.
This is not right! His inner voice protested. It's Potter - he's a guy - and your enemy - STOP!
No, Draco thought firmly, one hand against the cool tile of the shower wall to brace himself. This is not happening. I am not gay. I refuse to be.
But it was sheer stubborness that stopped him touching Harry's skin, even under pretence of an accident.
Blaise Zabini, complete with Pansy Parkinson's camera, crept through the door to the boys change rooms. He'd originally been planning to just burst into the shower block, take his pictures, and then run like the wind, hopefully managing to find somewhere to ditch the camera in the event of Draco catching up and attempting to beat him to death.
But then Pansy had told him about the peep hole that had been dug into the wall by some enterprising girl-students, before, Pansy had insisted, she had even started at Hogwarts. the grin on her face had convinced Blaise otherwise.
Putting aside his disgust at the idea of Pansy watching him and other boys in his year with no clothes on, Blaise looked around.
One of the benches had a small yellow star painted on it, in magical paint that was both water-and-soap-resistant. Straight above that, he knew, there was the hole, with a spell on it to make it look just like the rest of the bricks.
Blaise was starting to believe that Pansy hadn't put the hole there. She didn't have the brains for this elaborate cover-up, for one. She would have just drilled a hole and had done with it.
Poking it carefully with his wand, he was pleased to find it was a good size, and that the "peep hole" attatchment on the camera would fit right into it. Pricks of unease touched his back, as he realised exactly why it fit.
Still, he'd ignore that for now, and find a way to make Pansy pay up later. Taking a deep breath, he put an eye to the lens - and recoiled.
Draco was finished. Thank Merlin. He went to turn the water off with one hand, the other already groping for his towel, though how he would wrap it around himself when Harry was pressed firmly against him was quite beyond his understanding.
But a strong hand, interestingly textured, smacked down on it. "Just a minute, Malfoy," Harry said cheerfully, tipping his head back under the warm water. "Ypi've hogged all the water. Let me have a few minutes."
"You're kidding!" Draco hissed in contempt. "You were totally against this idea from the start. You said it was - "
Click. Whirr. Flash.
It was loud enough, bright enough, to have even Harry, who'd had his eyes closed and his head under the water, up and alert. "What the Hell was that?" he asked, sputtering as he swallowed water.
Draco was looking around too, and heard footsteps. He swore. "That, Potter, was most probably some fool with a camera. And since we saw the flash, I'm assuming the picture was taken of us."
"Of us?" Harry asked in a strangled voice. "Tied together? Showering?" He smacked his hand against his forehead. "We're screwed."
Draco snorted, and a miracle accoured. "Yes, we are," he said, for once in his life agreeing with Harry Potter. "Unless we can get the camera."
"You know who it was?" Harry asked hopefully.
Draco just shrugged, and a killing look came into his winter-grey eyes.
Blaise Zabini ducked into the Room of Requirement, which he found to be full of useful implements for the development of photos, and Pansy Parkinson, chuckling to herself.
"Did you get it?" she asked eagerly, reaching for her camera with both hands. Blaise pulled it away from her, and she gave him a surprised look.
"Just a minute," he said smoothly. "I should develop it, since I took the risk. Then you and I are going to talk about the hole in the showers."
He went over and pulled the film from the camera. The first pictures he ignored - Pansy and numerous guys in outfits and positions he found easier to look at it pornographic magazines, and groups of the Slytherin girls celebrating someone's birthday.
Then he came to the picture he wanted. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, and from what he could see from the negative, in high definition, even under the hissing water from the showers. Both were completely naked. Smiling to himself, he started to develop the picutre.
Harry was not really there.
It was strange, though. his mind seemed to have divided into three parts, each with sub-divisions and communication links. The first part of his brian was quite simply in denial. This was not happening. not to him, Harry Potter, and certainly not here with Draco Malfoy.
But while it was beaming this information steadily and consistently to the other sections of the brain, the second part was beaming back messages saying: "you're in denial. You've switched off; you are unable to cope with this situation. There is a reason for all this, just let me consult the finer points of Harry Potter and I shall get back to you shortly."
The third part, and the one Harry wished would just bugger off and leave him in peace, was the one part that accepted this situation at face value. The one that was admitting that yes, he was in the showers with Draco Malfoy, and yes, he was naked, and was even admitting that yes, Draco did look hot when naked.
Harry was not there. He was hiding, cowering in the part of his mind that was in denial, trying desperately not to see the pictures that the accepting part was forcing him to see: Draco's skin, which was the colour of pale porcelain, only a few shades more golden than his hair, the way the water ran over his shoulders, and down his chest, and still further down -
Harry bit his tongue, hard. It kept him from screaming and shut up the babbling voice in his head. I am not gay, he said to himself. I'm sure this is a perfectly normal reaction.
Draco was beginning to regret this idea. If it weren't for the fact that he was a Malfoy and a Slytherin, he would have pulled the pin and gone without showering for the second or third day in a row, and then he would have been spared the disturbing thoughts that were popping into his head.
It was also in all likelihood a blessing that Draco didn't know that Harry was thinking the exact same thoughts, but with variations. While Draco's thoughts roamed over Harry's pale skin, in such a contrast to the glossy wetness of his black hair, and the nicely toned muscle of his butt, his conscious mind was screaming at him.
This is not right! His inner voice protested. It's Potter - he's a guy - and your enemy - STOP!
No, Draco thought firmly, one hand against the cool tile of the shower wall to brace himself. This is not happening. I am not gay. I refuse to be.
But it was sheer stubborness that stopped him touching Harry's skin, even under pretence of an accident.
Blaise Zabini, complete with Pansy Parkinson's camera, crept through the door to the boys change rooms. He'd originally been planning to just burst into the shower block, take his pictures, and then run like the wind, hopefully managing to find somewhere to ditch the camera in the event of Draco catching up and attempting to beat him to death.
But then Pansy had told him about the peep hole that had been dug into the wall by some enterprising girl-students, before, Pansy had insisted, she had even started at Hogwarts. the grin on her face had convinced Blaise otherwise.
Putting aside his disgust at the idea of Pansy watching him and other boys in his year with no clothes on, Blaise looked around.
One of the benches had a small yellow star painted on it, in magical paint that was both water-and-soap-resistant. Straight above that, he knew, there was the hole, with a spell on it to make it look just like the rest of the bricks.
Blaise was starting to believe that Pansy hadn't put the hole there. She didn't have the brains for this elaborate cover-up, for one. She would have just drilled a hole and had done with it.
Poking it carefully with his wand, he was pleased to find it was a good size, and that the "peep hole" attatchment on the camera would fit right into it. Pricks of unease touched his back, as he realised exactly why it fit.
Still, he'd ignore that for now, and find a way to make Pansy pay up later. Taking a deep breath, he put an eye to the lens - and recoiled.
Draco was finished. Thank Merlin. He went to turn the water off with one hand, the other already groping for his towel, though how he would wrap it around himself when Harry was pressed firmly against him was quite beyond his understanding.
But a strong hand, interestingly textured, smacked down on it. "Just a minute, Malfoy," Harry said cheerfully, tipping his head back under the warm water. "Ypi've hogged all the water. Let me have a few minutes."
"You're kidding!" Draco hissed in contempt. "You were totally against this idea from the start. You said it was - "
Click. Whirr. Flash.
It was loud enough, bright enough, to have even Harry, who'd had his eyes closed and his head under the water, up and alert. "What the Hell was that?" he asked, sputtering as he swallowed water.
Draco was looking around too, and heard footsteps. He swore. "That, Potter, was most probably some fool with a camera. And since we saw the flash, I'm assuming the picture was taken of us."
"Of us?" Harry asked in a strangled voice. "Tied together? Showering?" He smacked his hand against his forehead. "We're screwed."
Draco snorted, and a miracle accoured. "Yes, we are," he said, for once in his life agreeing with Harry Potter. "Unless we can get the camera."
"You know who it was?" Harry asked hopefully.
Draco just shrugged, and a killing look came into his winter-grey eyes.
Blaise Zabini ducked into the Room of Requirement, which he found to be full of useful implements for the development of photos, and Pansy Parkinson, chuckling to herself.
"Did you get it?" she asked eagerly, reaching for her camera with both hands. Blaise pulled it away from her, and she gave him a surprised look.
"Just a minute," he said smoothly. "I should develop it, since I took the risk. Then you and I are going to talk about the hole in the showers."
He went over and pulled the film from the camera. The first pictures he ignored - Pansy and numerous guys in outfits and positions he found easier to look at it pornographic magazines, and groups of the Slytherin girls celebrating someone's birthday.
Then he came to the picture he wanted. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, and from what he could see from the negative, in high definition, even under the hissing water from the showers. Both were completely naked. Smiling to himself, he started to develop the picutre.