A/N: Always for Wyv, Bel, and Alan
***
Breakfast the next morning was surreal for all parties. Seamus was torn between shame in regard to his actions with Harry, hatred for the Pansy-bitch, and a cold fear that she might actually be right. Harry couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that in two days he had gone from being a virgin to sleeping with two different people, who happened to be the most beautiful creatures on the planet, even if they were complete assholes. Then he moved and the pain served as a fresh reminder, as did the bite marks on his chest and neck that he had to cover up with a turtleneck.
Draco was in an exceptionally good mood that morning, even deigning to bestow a smile on Pansy, sniveling wretch she was. He was delighted to have gotten his revenge on Seamus and found a means to hurt Potter in ways he had never thought possible. Hurt Potter, defy his father, spit in Pansy's face, and get off all it the same time. Did life get any sweeter? He glanced at Seamus. Perhaps it could…The sudden image of Seamus and Harry engaged in a slow, passionate kiss, their skin flushed and glistening, made Draco aroused so fast it was almost painful. His eyes flickered to Harry, who looked up almost as if on cue. Their eyes met and Draco licked his lips wolfishly. Harry turned pale and bit his lower lip, suddenly becoming very taken with his eggs.
Seamus was rearranging his food, apparently thinking that from the patterns he made, he could divine the secrets of the universe. In truth, he was thinking. He hadn't allowed himself to think all night. But what if Pansy was right? What if Draco didn't love him? What if it was just a fling? A violent clattering jolted him from his thoughts and he dimly realized the clattering was his fork against the porcelain plate. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. //Calm down. Calm down. Fuck! Get a hold on yourself.// He exhaled slowly, willing his hand to be still. The tremors subsided. Refusing to meet the bewildered stare of his housemates, Seamus rose and made his way to the exit. Halfway there, Pansy's eyes met his and she smiled with faux sweetness. Seamus flashed her a vulgar hand gesture and stormed out.
"What was that?" Draco asked. Pansy rested her head on his shoulder, firmly pressed blond curls spilling over his black robes.
"I haven't the faintest idea, darling. Finnigan is such a drama queen," she cooed, fluttering her lashes.
"Fucking fag," Crabbe muttered. All the Slytherins laughed, except for a vampiric seventh-year and Draco, who glared at his minion for speaking out of turn. Crabbe lowered his head as Goyle elbowed him in the ribs for being so abysmally dense. Not that they considered Draco a fag, of course. He may screw Finnigan, but that was different. He was the dominant one and he didn't actually entertain feelings for Finnigan beyond animalistic lust, right? Right. So Draco wasn't the fag. That shame was reserved for Finnigan. And maybe Potter. And that Creevy boy with the camera.
***
Harry remembered the last time the Dursleys had left him with Mrs. Figg. The old woman had fallen asleep and the tele was featuring some very old man, who kept spraying spittle at the camera, preaching about sin. "You can always tell a sin. A sin feels good. Otherwise, we wouldn't be tempted to commit it." That's how Harry knew he was damned.
It was the third detention he had served with Draco in three weeks. Harry barely remembered how they got there. He had said or done something and Draco had offered some snide comment. Harry had glared at him and Draco had dug his nails into Harry's forearm and yanked viciously, leaving five furrows in Harry's skin. Harry had pushed Draco into his cauldron, sending its contents in a wave towards Pansy, who unfortunately sidestepped and gave Harry a look that clearly questioned his right to exist. Snape had not been pleased, to say the least. He didn't deduct any points, but he assigned them both three consecutive detentions.
Whatever it was Snape had been expecting them to do, Harry didn't think this was it. He groaned as Draco pushed inside him, then gave a ragged gasp as Draco bit down with just enough force at a spot on his neck. "Snape should be back soon," he said.
"So?" murmured Draco.
"So?" Harry echoed, his thinking slowed by the red haze filtering through his brain. "So maybe we should get dressed."
"That's one possibility," Draco moaned.
"What are the others?"
"We stay as we are and if Snape walks in, he'll get a free show."
"Malfoy, that's disgusting."
"Maybe, but I notice you're not moving, Potter." Harry groaned in response. Draco smirked, sucking at the small depression behind Harry's ear. He paused, silver eyes narrowing. The unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor.
"That sounds like Snape now," Harry observed.
"Shit." Despite his earlier remarks, Draco had no desire to let Snape catch him shagging anyone, let alone Harry Potter.
They sprang apart instantly and began the frantic scramble for clothes. Snape's footsteps drew closer. //Oh. Fuck me// Harry thought. //We're not even remotely close to being ready and we look like we've been in a fight our something…// He crossed over to Draco, who was absorbed in buttoning his shirt, and kissed him hard. He ripped open Draco's shirt, buttons flying everywhere. Draco looked politely astonished up until Harry kneed him in the stomach. Draco doubled over, but he seemed to understand because he smiled before delivering a sound fist to Harry's lips. He yanked Harry up by the hair, lapping at the blood trickling from Harry's split lip, crashing him against the wall. Harry pushed Draco off, sending the blonde into a table, the corner of which dug into Draco's kidney. Harry seized Draco. Draco hooked a leg around Harry's knees, bringing them both to the ground. Harry rolled on top of Draco, kissing him brutally. Draco's hips rubbed up against Harry, earning a moan from the dark-haired boy.
"Potter! Malfoy! What the hell is going on here?" Both boys rose to their feet, bloodied and bruised. Snape regarded them coldly. "Headmaster's office. Now."
Both boys had the decency to look properly ashamed of themselves as they stood before a very disappointed Dumbledore. "Fighting again? That's the fourth time in less than a month. Madam Pomfrey doesn't even want to see the two of you in the infirmary again unless it's life threatening. Obviously a detention isn't the answer. So, tell me, what am I supposed to do with you?"
"Check for werewolf bites," Snape suggested.
"I beg your pardon, Severus?"
"Maybe it's a territorial thing. Alpha male syndrome or something similar," Snape said. Draco smiled. Harry, much as he hated both Snape and Draco, smiled too.
"So you're saying this is a very vicious pissing contest?" Dumbledore said. Harry choked on a laugh. Dumbeldore smiled, straightening his glasses.
"That's not a professional opinion. Hagrid knows more about animal behavior than I do, seeing as he is the gamekeeper," Snape replied. "As for lycanthropy, I dare say Lupin is our in-house expert."
"Yes. Well, do either of you remember being bitten?" Harry and Draco exchanged wry glances. "Perhaps I should rephrase that. Obviously you both have been bitten recently. That's very impressive bite on your neck, Harry. It almost looks like a hickey." Harry turned pale.
"What are you suggesting, headmaster? That I was necking with Potter?" Draco asked, eyes sparkling dangerously. Harry had to admire the boy's acting skills. His tone and facial expression made it quite clear that the idea of kissing Harry was the vilest thing he'd ever heard in his life.
"Of course not, Draco. It was a simple comparison. Have either of you been bitten by a werewolf recently?"
"I hope I'd remember something like that," Harry said.
"With your limited mental capacities, it's quite possible you forgot. You have been the walking dead for a long time, Potter," Draco added cheerfully.
"I'm so flattered you noticed."
"It's my business to notice you." Snape, Dumbledore, and Harry all turned to look at the blonde curiously. Draco's eyes widened. "What? You can't have a rivalry without paying attention to your rival's activities, can you?"
No answer was forthcoming. Harry wondered if that was because Snape and Dumbledore were as astonished as he was that Draco had put deliberate effort into the rivalry they shared- hard, calculated effort. It was frightening in its own right.
It also made Harry wonder. Was their, rather consistent shagging also a calculated move? The arrogance of such a thought didn't escape him, but if Seamus had found him worth seducing, there was the possibility that Draco had toyed with the idea. And Draco, being his father's son and every bit the manipulative rake Lucius was rumored to have been, was not above seduction or the blatant taking of anyone.
"Can we go now?" Harry asked suddenly. He needed some time to think about this, alone if possible. Dumbledore blinked.
"Yes. You and Mr. Malfoy are both free to go." With a whispered thanks to Dumbledore and a curt nod to Snape, Harry swept out of the office.
Draco rose nonchalantly, face pale and showing nothing but vague contempt as always. He bowed to Dumbledore and started to give a nod to Snape when he froze. Playing upon the lips of his head of house was a small smile coupled with a gleam in his dark eyes that said "I know you, Draco Malfoy, and don't think for a minute that you can fool me." Draco felt exposed, vulnerable, irritated, annoyed, and the teeniest bit aroused all at once. He recovered and nodded politely. His face broke into a triumphant smile the moment the door to Dumbledore's office closed behind him.
***
Harry drew back the curtains to his bed swiftly. Seamus jumped. "JesusMaryJoseph, Harry! You scared me half to death," the Irish boy gasped, hand over his rapidly beating heart.
"I scared you?" Harry returned. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to apologize." Harry's features softened immediately.
"You don't have to-"
"Yes. Yes, I do."
"No, you don't."
"It was a rotten, despicable thing to do and I'm sorry." Harry sat down on his bed, flabbergasted and feeling the guilt gather in a newly discovered pit in his stomach. Seamus scooted closer to Harry, taking his hand.
"For what it's worth, I really like you, Harry. You're a great guy and a natural in the sack." Harry laughed. "And you deserve better than what I did to you."
"Seamus…" Harry sighed, turning to face him. He was going to tell Seamus that an apology wasn't necessary and exactly why he didn't deserve an apology, but then his eyes met Seamus'. The honesty and sincerity in those eyes was too much and all Harry did was lean his forehead against Seamus', wondering why no matter what he did, there was always some sort of catastrophe on his heels. "I'm sorry, Seamus."
"For what you said?" Seamus shrugged. "Maybe you were right. Maybe you were wrong. You were hurt and wanted to retaliate. It's human."
"When did you become a fucking saint, Seamus?" Harry asked lightly.
"A fucking saint? You can get canonized for that? What church do you go to and how can I join?" Harry smiled and kissed Seamus softly.
"You're all right, Finnigan." Seamus shot him a look of indignation.
"All right? I'm better than all right." Harry looked thoughtful.
"H'mm…you're right. You're sodding marvelous." Seamus beamed.
"So we're okay then?"
"Perfectly square," Harry answered.
Seamus bounced off Harry's bed and out the door with a smile that could have illuminated the darkest corners of the Forbidden Forest. Harry curled up on his bed, willing himself not to gag on the monstrous dose of hypocrisy he'd just swallowed.
***
Thank you to those who reviewed: Cory, me3gogi, Bibayb, stromyfire, HpMystery, Scratches, Taomumf, Wyvern's Elucidated Brtheren (as you wish), elf, cindlemain, Gwen, Red Joker, coriander, Spinx, MiniMe (wow!), Aeneas (your review is sad and amazingly baised, but i thank you for taking the time to leave your opinion), and Rehanna.
Opinions, suggestions, threats are all accepted. Just leave a review.
Love,
J. Silver
***
Breakfast the next morning was surreal for all parties. Seamus was torn between shame in regard to his actions with Harry, hatred for the Pansy-bitch, and a cold fear that she might actually be right. Harry couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that in two days he had gone from being a virgin to sleeping with two different people, who happened to be the most beautiful creatures on the planet, even if they were complete assholes. Then he moved and the pain served as a fresh reminder, as did the bite marks on his chest and neck that he had to cover up with a turtleneck.
Draco was in an exceptionally good mood that morning, even deigning to bestow a smile on Pansy, sniveling wretch she was. He was delighted to have gotten his revenge on Seamus and found a means to hurt Potter in ways he had never thought possible. Hurt Potter, defy his father, spit in Pansy's face, and get off all it the same time. Did life get any sweeter? He glanced at Seamus. Perhaps it could…The sudden image of Seamus and Harry engaged in a slow, passionate kiss, their skin flushed and glistening, made Draco aroused so fast it was almost painful. His eyes flickered to Harry, who looked up almost as if on cue. Their eyes met and Draco licked his lips wolfishly. Harry turned pale and bit his lower lip, suddenly becoming very taken with his eggs.
Seamus was rearranging his food, apparently thinking that from the patterns he made, he could divine the secrets of the universe. In truth, he was thinking. He hadn't allowed himself to think all night. But what if Pansy was right? What if Draco didn't love him? What if it was just a fling? A violent clattering jolted him from his thoughts and he dimly realized the clattering was his fork against the porcelain plate. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. //Calm down. Calm down. Fuck! Get a hold on yourself.// He exhaled slowly, willing his hand to be still. The tremors subsided. Refusing to meet the bewildered stare of his housemates, Seamus rose and made his way to the exit. Halfway there, Pansy's eyes met his and she smiled with faux sweetness. Seamus flashed her a vulgar hand gesture and stormed out.
"What was that?" Draco asked. Pansy rested her head on his shoulder, firmly pressed blond curls spilling over his black robes.
"I haven't the faintest idea, darling. Finnigan is such a drama queen," she cooed, fluttering her lashes.
"Fucking fag," Crabbe muttered. All the Slytherins laughed, except for a vampiric seventh-year and Draco, who glared at his minion for speaking out of turn. Crabbe lowered his head as Goyle elbowed him in the ribs for being so abysmally dense. Not that they considered Draco a fag, of course. He may screw Finnigan, but that was different. He was the dominant one and he didn't actually entertain feelings for Finnigan beyond animalistic lust, right? Right. So Draco wasn't the fag. That shame was reserved for Finnigan. And maybe Potter. And that Creevy boy with the camera.
***
Harry remembered the last time the Dursleys had left him with Mrs. Figg. The old woman had fallen asleep and the tele was featuring some very old man, who kept spraying spittle at the camera, preaching about sin. "You can always tell a sin. A sin feels good. Otherwise, we wouldn't be tempted to commit it." That's how Harry knew he was damned.
It was the third detention he had served with Draco in three weeks. Harry barely remembered how they got there. He had said or done something and Draco had offered some snide comment. Harry had glared at him and Draco had dug his nails into Harry's forearm and yanked viciously, leaving five furrows in Harry's skin. Harry had pushed Draco into his cauldron, sending its contents in a wave towards Pansy, who unfortunately sidestepped and gave Harry a look that clearly questioned his right to exist. Snape had not been pleased, to say the least. He didn't deduct any points, but he assigned them both three consecutive detentions.
Whatever it was Snape had been expecting them to do, Harry didn't think this was it. He groaned as Draco pushed inside him, then gave a ragged gasp as Draco bit down with just enough force at a spot on his neck. "Snape should be back soon," he said.
"So?" murmured Draco.
"So?" Harry echoed, his thinking slowed by the red haze filtering through his brain. "So maybe we should get dressed."
"That's one possibility," Draco moaned.
"What are the others?"
"We stay as we are and if Snape walks in, he'll get a free show."
"Malfoy, that's disgusting."
"Maybe, but I notice you're not moving, Potter." Harry groaned in response. Draco smirked, sucking at the small depression behind Harry's ear. He paused, silver eyes narrowing. The unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor.
"That sounds like Snape now," Harry observed.
"Shit." Despite his earlier remarks, Draco had no desire to let Snape catch him shagging anyone, let alone Harry Potter.
They sprang apart instantly and began the frantic scramble for clothes. Snape's footsteps drew closer. //Oh. Fuck me// Harry thought. //We're not even remotely close to being ready and we look like we've been in a fight our something…// He crossed over to Draco, who was absorbed in buttoning his shirt, and kissed him hard. He ripped open Draco's shirt, buttons flying everywhere. Draco looked politely astonished up until Harry kneed him in the stomach. Draco doubled over, but he seemed to understand because he smiled before delivering a sound fist to Harry's lips. He yanked Harry up by the hair, lapping at the blood trickling from Harry's split lip, crashing him against the wall. Harry pushed Draco off, sending the blonde into a table, the corner of which dug into Draco's kidney. Harry seized Draco. Draco hooked a leg around Harry's knees, bringing them both to the ground. Harry rolled on top of Draco, kissing him brutally. Draco's hips rubbed up against Harry, earning a moan from the dark-haired boy.
"Potter! Malfoy! What the hell is going on here?" Both boys rose to their feet, bloodied and bruised. Snape regarded them coldly. "Headmaster's office. Now."
Both boys had the decency to look properly ashamed of themselves as they stood before a very disappointed Dumbledore. "Fighting again? That's the fourth time in less than a month. Madam Pomfrey doesn't even want to see the two of you in the infirmary again unless it's life threatening. Obviously a detention isn't the answer. So, tell me, what am I supposed to do with you?"
"Check for werewolf bites," Snape suggested.
"I beg your pardon, Severus?"
"Maybe it's a territorial thing. Alpha male syndrome or something similar," Snape said. Draco smiled. Harry, much as he hated both Snape and Draco, smiled too.
"So you're saying this is a very vicious pissing contest?" Dumbledore said. Harry choked on a laugh. Dumbeldore smiled, straightening his glasses.
"That's not a professional opinion. Hagrid knows more about animal behavior than I do, seeing as he is the gamekeeper," Snape replied. "As for lycanthropy, I dare say Lupin is our in-house expert."
"Yes. Well, do either of you remember being bitten?" Harry and Draco exchanged wry glances. "Perhaps I should rephrase that. Obviously you both have been bitten recently. That's very impressive bite on your neck, Harry. It almost looks like a hickey." Harry turned pale.
"What are you suggesting, headmaster? That I was necking with Potter?" Draco asked, eyes sparkling dangerously. Harry had to admire the boy's acting skills. His tone and facial expression made it quite clear that the idea of kissing Harry was the vilest thing he'd ever heard in his life.
"Of course not, Draco. It was a simple comparison. Have either of you been bitten by a werewolf recently?"
"I hope I'd remember something like that," Harry said.
"With your limited mental capacities, it's quite possible you forgot. You have been the walking dead for a long time, Potter," Draco added cheerfully.
"I'm so flattered you noticed."
"It's my business to notice you." Snape, Dumbledore, and Harry all turned to look at the blonde curiously. Draco's eyes widened. "What? You can't have a rivalry without paying attention to your rival's activities, can you?"
No answer was forthcoming. Harry wondered if that was because Snape and Dumbledore were as astonished as he was that Draco had put deliberate effort into the rivalry they shared- hard, calculated effort. It was frightening in its own right.
It also made Harry wonder. Was their, rather consistent shagging also a calculated move? The arrogance of such a thought didn't escape him, but if Seamus had found him worth seducing, there was the possibility that Draco had toyed with the idea. And Draco, being his father's son and every bit the manipulative rake Lucius was rumored to have been, was not above seduction or the blatant taking of anyone.
"Can we go now?" Harry asked suddenly. He needed some time to think about this, alone if possible. Dumbledore blinked.
"Yes. You and Mr. Malfoy are both free to go." With a whispered thanks to Dumbledore and a curt nod to Snape, Harry swept out of the office.
Draco rose nonchalantly, face pale and showing nothing but vague contempt as always. He bowed to Dumbledore and started to give a nod to Snape when he froze. Playing upon the lips of his head of house was a small smile coupled with a gleam in his dark eyes that said "I know you, Draco Malfoy, and don't think for a minute that you can fool me." Draco felt exposed, vulnerable, irritated, annoyed, and the teeniest bit aroused all at once. He recovered and nodded politely. His face broke into a triumphant smile the moment the door to Dumbledore's office closed behind him.
***
Harry drew back the curtains to his bed swiftly. Seamus jumped. "JesusMaryJoseph, Harry! You scared me half to death," the Irish boy gasped, hand over his rapidly beating heart.
"I scared you?" Harry returned. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to apologize." Harry's features softened immediately.
"You don't have to-"
"Yes. Yes, I do."
"No, you don't."
"It was a rotten, despicable thing to do and I'm sorry." Harry sat down on his bed, flabbergasted and feeling the guilt gather in a newly discovered pit in his stomach. Seamus scooted closer to Harry, taking his hand.
"For what it's worth, I really like you, Harry. You're a great guy and a natural in the sack." Harry laughed. "And you deserve better than what I did to you."
"Seamus…" Harry sighed, turning to face him. He was going to tell Seamus that an apology wasn't necessary and exactly why he didn't deserve an apology, but then his eyes met Seamus'. The honesty and sincerity in those eyes was too much and all Harry did was lean his forehead against Seamus', wondering why no matter what he did, there was always some sort of catastrophe on his heels. "I'm sorry, Seamus."
"For what you said?" Seamus shrugged. "Maybe you were right. Maybe you were wrong. You were hurt and wanted to retaliate. It's human."
"When did you become a fucking saint, Seamus?" Harry asked lightly.
"A fucking saint? You can get canonized for that? What church do you go to and how can I join?" Harry smiled and kissed Seamus softly.
"You're all right, Finnigan." Seamus shot him a look of indignation.
"All right? I'm better than all right." Harry looked thoughtful.
"H'mm…you're right. You're sodding marvelous." Seamus beamed.
"So we're okay then?"
"Perfectly square," Harry answered.
Seamus bounced off Harry's bed and out the door with a smile that could have illuminated the darkest corners of the Forbidden Forest. Harry curled up on his bed, willing himself not to gag on the monstrous dose of hypocrisy he'd just swallowed.
***
Thank you to those who reviewed: Cory, me3gogi, Bibayb, stromyfire, HpMystery, Scratches, Taomumf, Wyvern's Elucidated Brtheren (as you wish), elf, cindlemain, Gwen, Red Joker, coriander, Spinx, MiniMe (wow!), Aeneas (your review is sad and amazingly baised, but i thank you for taking the time to leave your opinion), and Rehanna.
Opinions, suggestions, threats are all accepted. Just leave a review.
Love,
J. Silver