Confection

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and all characters contained within this story are all property of J.K. Rowling, with the exception of Chester Devroy, he's owned by me. Bum Bum Bum, and all that other disclaimer stuff.

Author: Abyss

Email: IndelibleChild@yahoo.com

Rating: R

Warnings: Slash, Angst, implied rape, Drug abuse, Self-Mutilation

Genre: Drama

Summary: Draco's life begins to crumble when he accidentally plunges himself deep into his fathers schemes to over throw Voldemort. Can a new friend found in the most unlikely place save him from his own self-destruction? Takes place 6th year at Hogwarts.

Author's notes: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. *puts a silver sticker star on you* You rock!

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Chapter Four: Inviting Complications

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A Horrible Indifference

From now on, I will know to stay away from MDMA. I feel horrible. The kind of horrible where the thought of ripping out your intestines and hanging yourself with them becomes a rather pleasant idea. Although I cannot say that the thought of death has never been an enjoyable thought… It is currently not the basis of my thoughts for the moment. My entire body aches and I have the distinct feeling that I will be spewing forth vomit from my mouth within the next few hours.

If I get those little red spots on my face because of broken capillaries when that happens, I will not be very happy. Those splotches of red are not very appealing on anyone, especially someone as pale as I am. The thought of curling up in my bed and sleeping the entire day does not seem like such a bad idea at the moment, but I would have a personal loathing for myself if I spent all day being that lazy.

My head begins to throb painfully whenever I lay down, anyway. That is probably due to the oh-so-pleasant concussion I am currently in possession of (no thanks to boy wonder, Harry Potter). I would like to slap the bastard for that.

Last night proved to be an interesting night at that. Potter was right when he speculated that I enjoy being in control too much to allow myself to fall victim to the effects of drugs… From now on I doubt I will be experimenting with such substances again. Things happened… that were not meant to happen. It honestly sickens to reflect upon the events last night, because of the absurdity in which the events occurred.

I've never been one to let situations take a hold of me, yet I cannot help but feel utterly defenseless to the occurrences in my life at the moment. I fear for what will happen if I do not regain some of this control soon…

Draco paused and looked up from his journal for a thoughtful moment. The darkness that pervaded his room was a comforting one, yet his mind remained unsettled.

I will soon be leaving for home. He wrote, the small sentence making him shiver. His left hand wavered over the parchment, quill slightly shaking, unsure of how to continue. Father expects me to surrender myself to the Dark Lord, receive the Dark Mark, forever possessing the burn upon my ashen flesh. It frightens me I do not know how to avoid the situation. I am not even sure if I can at this point anymore. My frazzled plan was damaged once again due to the events surrounding last night.

I am not even sure if the damn Gryffindor is angry with me or not. I am sure my comments that were made last night have inflicted some destruction upon our precariously settled friendship. Sure, he did come back to apologize and assure that things kosher between us. Yet there is a difference between talking to Potter clean, and talking to Potter while he is high.

I almost wonder… Draco let the unfinished thought trail off.

Almost…

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"I suspect mother will not even be at home." Draco drawled, bored with the conversation already.

"Hold up, Malfoy." Blaise interrupted, roughly swallowing whatever was in his mouth. "I thought you were staying here for break?"

Cocking an eyebrow, the blonde idly wondered how the other Slytherin knew Draco had originally planned to stay at school. "Change of plans." Draco stated, casting a small glance over to Pansy, who was animatedly talking with some fourth year. Probably plotting the young Malfoy's painful demise, now that she had overcome the initial shock of Draco's overtly angry disposition towards the horribly unattractive female.

Draco picked at his lunch some more before he realized that Blaise was still talking to him.

"… Complaining about someone steeling things from his truck. His own damn fault for not locking it I say. Had I known it was unlocked, I'd probably gone through it myself. That bastard is loaded."

Despite missing half of what the other Slytherin had said Draco knew immediately whom he was talking about. "His father has done surprisingly well for a filthy mudblood. Hacker has always tried to get in my father's good graces. No one really knows where their loyalties lie though…"

"Goyle reckons Hacker's already got the mark. Said he saw it this summer."

"That fat-ass is about as reliable as a half-breed. Honestly, believing him? He is as stupid as he is overweight. That entire family is enormous, it is horribly grotesque, I have never seen a pureblood family care so little about their appearance before."

Blaise chuckled lightly. "You've always been one for image Draco. One might call you vain, if they weren't so damned frightened of you."

The blonde smiled, slightly amused. Letting his eyes wander over to the Gryffindor table Draco replied. "It only appears that Slytherin's are frightened of me. 'Tis the only reason Snape allowed me to have my own room."

"Don't be so callow. The Hufflepuff's are terrified of you. Reckon a good amount of any first years are too."

"As true as that might be, they do not really count, now do they? A Hufflepuff? The name alone is disgraceful enough, no need to discuss the type of people in that house, they are as callow as all the first years."

Blaise snorted. "Suppose you're right." A moment of silence passed between the two. Draco continued to look at the Gryffindor table, Potter wasn't there. "What's going on between you and Potter?"

Draco internally cringed. "My business with the stupid bastard is no concern of yours."

"People are beginning to talk Draco… You can't not hear what they're saying about you two." Draco looked over at Blaise; very rarely did he call the other boy by his first name. Very rarely did he take part in a personal conversation, initiate one, nonetheless. It made the blonde wonder what Blaise was up to, he knew better than to think that the other Slytherin actually cared.

"If I didn't know you well enough, Zabini, I'd say that you might actually care."

"Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy." Blaise waved his hand in dismissal. Draco knew that Blaise was cold on the inside, he knew much more about the boy's life than Blaise knew. Anyone growing up how the young wizard did was enough to kill any feelings they had inside. "It makes Slytherin look bad if you're whoring around with the Gyrffindor's Golden Child. Some have started questioning your loyalties. Hell, I'm beginning to question them."

Draco turned to face Blaise, cocking an eyebrow thoughtfully. "I will kindly remind you to not insult me so blatantly, or I will personally see to it that your penis is permanently detached from the rest of your body." The blonde's light eyes bore down into Blaise's, untrusting.

"I expressed only concert for you." Blaise said carefully. "Your threats do not scare me like some stupid first year." Draco's eyes narrowed. "You're the only person I could almost call a friend but just because of the tentative friendship, it does not mean that I am going to step around your temperaments. Take my words more as a warning, not as a direct insult to your questionable character."

Oh how sentimental, Draco thought. The two young Slytherins stared at each other for a long moment, before they both smiled. Blaise sounded an amused "humph."

"You of all people should know which side I am really on." Draco muttered, looking away. "I have business with Potter. Call it a temporary arrangement with a precariously placed understanding. Potter has something I need, and I have a few shockingly delightful secrets the stupid Gryffindor would hate to let loose."

Blaise gaped at Draco for a brief second. "You're blackmailing the Golden Child? Oh! Oh it doesn't get much better than that, Draco it really doesn't, I commend you."

Draco smirked. He moved to say something else, but the bell rang signaling the end of lunch. "To be continued."

Blaise nodded.

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Earlier, in potions, Draco saw Harry drop a note into his bag, requesting him to meet him in the dungeons later. Slightly intrigued, the blonde agreed. So, as a result, he had shrugged off Blaise for some alone time before his talk with Harry. Draco, (finally pushing aside his usual judgement) was now lying in his bed, doing absolutely nothing. It was honestly the first time the Slytherin could remember doing anything of the sort. He was just lying there…

Being lazy.

And not doing anything.

And he was in his bed.

For no reason at all.

"This is so overrated." He muttered to the ceiling, but the blonde made no attempt to move. Draco idly remembered a conversation he had had with Blaise, where he explained the wonders of lounging around the entire day doing absolutely nothing. Draco, completely baffled at the mere thought of purposely not doing anything had called his friend crazy, and slothful. And now, even though Draco lay in his bed, purposely doing nothing at the moment still thought it was a crude idea. His mind was running, trying to force him to get up and do something. Yet something inside pulled him down keeping him on the bed, almost like he needed the experience of true laziness. Draco snorted and closed his eyes; occasionally his thought process did not make much sense. After a long moment of silence, Draco started to hear the slow ticking of his watch and realized he still had to meet with Harry.

Draco wished he hadn't told Potter that he would meet with him. The Slytherin didn't feel like being in the company of others tonight, especially dark-haired Gryffindors. "Screw you, Potter." Draco scolded the ceiling. Sighing dramatically, he pulled himself from the bed and walked to the closest mirror, making sure his robes and hair were neatly in place. Blaise wasn't exactly wrong when he had implied that the blonde Slytherin was vain, but Draco would never admit that aloud.

The halls were always cold, he observed. No matter what time of the year, the stone corridors were always cool. As the blonde wizard walked through the old school, he contemplated the curious location of Potter's and his meeting tonight. It was questionable, why the young Gryffindor would pick a location so inconvenient to himself. Sure, it was close for Draco, but boy wonder had quite a walk from his tower to the dungeons. The two hadn't been back to that empty room since their first meeting. Draco paused in the middle of the cold hallway. It seemed so long ago that he had caught Harry in the dungeons. Shaking his head, he walked on. The thought of Harry always being around had grown accustomed to Draco, so much that the dark-haired boy's frustratingly irritable presence had become a staple, it was almost awkward to think of a time that it hadn't always been around to torment Draco's intelligence.

As Draco walked further into the dungeons, the air became denser, and the familiar musty smell grew stronger. The smell reminded him of the darker parts of the basement at the manor. Draco shuddered at a few stray memories that surfaced to the top of his mind. Despite the fact the Slytherin had always liked these parts of the castle, for what reason, it was truly unbeknownst to him, but he did nonetheless. It was almost comforting. Maybe it was because he knew that he was safe at Hogwarts… at least he was safe from his father. His thoughts carried on its sardonic route of his father until he found himself in the familiar room, Draco held in a frustrated groan when he saw the room empty. He never could understand why Potter always had to be late for everything.

Someday, Draco promised himself, he would make sure that the stupid wizard would learn the importance, and the appeal, of punctuality. Albeit he knew the cause was hopeless.

"Why are you always here before me?" He heard a voice from behind him speak.

"Because." Draco turned around. "Unlike you, I can appreciate the understandings of punctuality."

The blonde held in an amused laugh at Harry's blank, confused face. "Erm…. Whatever."

Draco shook his head lightly. "What are we doing here, Potter?"

The other wizard looked down at his feet. Draco noticed Potter moving his jaw, an act that hinted he was playing with his tongue ring, a recent nervous habit. The immediate change in the other wizard's disposition sparked Draco's interest slightly. "Ikindawantedtotalkaboutlastnight." He mumbled to the ground.

"Well that's interesting." The Slytherin crossed his arms over his chest, trying to maintain his passive exterior, knowing the situation between him and Potter was about to get very unpleasant. "Once you have stopped talking to your feet, could you kindly tell me what you wanted to discuss with me?"

"Last night…" Potter was still looking at your shoes.

"Was that directed towards me, or your shoes?"

Harry groaned. "You're insufferable," the dark haired boy looked up "you know I was talking to you."

Draco smirked. Silence passed, neither wizards talking. "Well…?" the blonde inquired.

"You make things so much more difficult than they should be." Harry walked a little closer to Draco. "I want to know what happened last night."

Draco looked at Potter for a moment, appraising him. "Two teenagers made some very bad decisions due to the not very-wise usage of some very stolen drugs."

"That's it?"

"Yes." Something flickered in the dark-haired wizard's green eyes, what it was, Draco wasn't too sure. "What? Were you expecting to confess some undying adoration towards you? I can assure that I have no feelings for you. I barely like as a friend, what could possibly make you think otherwise? Whatever goes on it your head, permanently remains a complete mystery to me, you honestly baffle me."

Harry rubbed his hands over his face briefly. "I really fucking hate you sometimes, Draco." He muttered into his hands. A comment the Slytherin was positive, he wasn't supposed to hear. He smirked, wondering if Harry had known that he had just spoken aloud.

Then it hit him.

He had called him Draco.

His gaze unwavering, an expressionless face remained fixed on Harry, who, from the looks of it, had not picked up on the new awkwardness of the situation.

He had called him Draco.

At that moment in time, Draco did not hate anything more than the sound of his name coming out of Potter's mouth. Why? He wasn't entirely sure, but from the stance the Gryffindor seemed to be taking on the events of last night, and the way that that simple five-letter word came out of his mouth…. Draco had a pretty good idea what Potter was insinuating, or at least attempting to, albeit, he seemed to be doing it unconsciously. Unsure of what to make of the situation, Draco remained quiet, for once.

"I almost wonder…" Harry began, looking somewhere off to the left of Draco. "Almost…" he trailed off and let a long moment pass. "I've never… I've never lost complete control of myself. I know I've managed to really fuck myself up." He laughed at himself and ran his fingers through his dark hair. The Slytherin found his disjointed behaviour and speech interesting. Growing up in the environment he did, he had never been exposed to this type of outward emotional turmoil, and despite his personal distaste for it, always found it fascinating to watch. People who could so easily let their emotions show had always been interesting to Draco. "I've done a really good job of doing that. But I've always had some control, and I know I know you're the same way. I… I didn't exactly… not wanted… Oh fuck. I didn't kiss you on purpose." He paused a little. "But it wasn't exactly an accident either." Draco idly noticed how Harry's eyes glowed in the dark, much reminding him of a cat, although he noticed that the Gryffindor would not look at him.

A long moment had passed as the words finally began to settle in. Draco pressed his lips together and slowly nodded. Drawing in a slow breath Draco carefully began to talk. "I am very aware of the events of last night, but whatever it was for you, I can assure you, Potter, for me, it was just an accident I cannot rectify. I am not sure what you made of that kiss, because I know I kissed you back, but I know, I know that was not because of the carelessness of my character. It was because of my careless experimentation with drugs."

"That's it?" Harry gaped at the other wizard, shocked. "That's your excuse? Just blame the drugs? That's so utterly Slytherin, but so completely pathetic. I can't believe you lowered yourself to that level! I thought you'd be a little more responsible than that!"

Draco smirked crudely. "How very Gryffindor of you." Draco sneered. "Jumping headfirst into a situation where logic tells you to not further involve yourself. I do not understand how your small mind works, Potter." Draco walked closer to Potter, deliberately trying to make him feel uncomfortable. "Just because you feel a certain way, does not mean that I am going to. I think it naïve of you to assume that last night was anything but an accident."

"Last night might have been an accident." Harry looked right into Draco's eyes and slapped him hard across the face. "But that wasn't."

Draco's eyes widened in shock at the unexpected hit. Quickly regaining his composure he sneered at the Gryffindor. "If you ever strike me again, I promise you that I will castrate you. Any hope you have of rectifying the damage you have inflicted with our… whatever you want to call this, has just been slapped away by your hand. Do not expect me to ever be cordial to you again."

Draco stalked from the dungeons back to his room, receiving odd stares from the few people left in the common room. He kicked shut his door and stormed over to his desk and sat down… very angrily. The conversation alone had been enough to drive Draco into fury, but he hit him! He had actually struck him! Draco growled out into the bedroom, lost somewhere between anger, confusion, and hurt.

The blonde wizard gripped the edge of wooden desk in front of him so much that his hands ached from the pressure. He invited the pain; at least he knew that wouldn't try to kiss him, then strike at him. He couldn't believe what had happened. The Malfoy wished that he had blown off Potter and stayed and talked with Blaise.

Closing his eyes trying to make the rage subside, Draco released his hands, his fingers sore and tight. He needed to think about what happened with a clear head.

He had called him Draco.

The blonde wizard shuddered remembering how his name sounded coming out of the other boy's mouth. It was strange. Draco huffed, realizing how few people called him Draco. Why shouldn't they? It was his name after all. It seemed far too informal though, now that he thought about it. He cringed at the thought of having Crabbe or Goyle call him Draco.

Then again, the thought of those two made him cringe regardless.

So Potter was gay. At least… that is what Draco got out of the whole situation. He was surprised that he hadn't noticed before. At the same time though, the Slytherin had a slight distaste for relationships in general. The intimacy involved appalled Draco. He winced at the thought of kissing Potter. Physical contact of any kind had always made Draco uncomfortable. His body was his own; he did not want anyone else touching it. Hunching over the desk and rubbing his face with his hands, frustrated, Draco groaned. He was so angry with himself for getting involved with Potter. So very angry.

Roughly getting up, the distraught wizard decided it was a decent a time as ever to go to sleep.

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Weeks had passed and the only time Draco would talk to the Gryffindor was when he had Glamour Magic with him. Even then it was clipped, rude, and belligerent. Oddly enough, Blaise seemed to have taken Potter's place. It intrigued him to think that he could ever have a real friendship with the dark wizard. Then again, his sarcastic tongue and his dark sense of humour greatly complimented that of Draco's. It almost surprised him to notice how well they actually got along, considering how long the two have known each other.

He rather wished that they had been paired together in Glamour Magic. At least he could be working with someone tolerable. Harry had tried numerous amounts of times to apologize to Draco, all of which were nothing more than annoying… much like the rest of his behaviour. But hate him as he might, Draco had always had a little soft spot for the dark-haired Gryffindor, although that was something he wouldn't even admit to himself.

He did however notice that he was becoming slightly more pleasant to Harry. Well… not exactly pleasant, but considering it was Draco Malfoy talking to Harry Potter, boy wonder, it was as close to pleasant as it would probably ever get.

"Do you have any of those essays written?" Draco drawled, lazily eyeing Professor Devroy discussing how he was going to be testing them on word magic soon, and to make sure that the assessment he gives them goes into their portfolio.

"No, I don't." Harry replied shortly, drawing little… whatevers on the side of notes.

"Perhaps you should." The Slytherin rolled his eyes. Of course he had to be paired with the school's laziest wizard. Draco noticed everyone was starting to leave and began to pack his things away. He had difficulties concentrating in class today.

"Mr. Malfoy, could you please stay for a minute?" Devroy looked up from his desk at the blonde Slytherin.

"Great…" Draco breathed as he stood walked over to the desk. "Yes Professor?" He smiled politely.

Draco watched the pale man lean back into his chair and look at Draco, assessing him. "I'm not usually one to get too involved with my students lives, I don't care enough about the trivial things most kids fret over these days."

The younger wizard smiled lightly, smart move, Draco thought. "But, I do try to keep an eye out for some of my better students..." Devroy motioned for Draco to take a seat at one of the front desks, but being the Malfoy he was, he refused. He preferred standing anyway. "I've noticed some of your recent work has been a little weak. I'd like to inquire as to what has been troubling you?"

"Nothing is wrong, Professor." Draco lied. "Just some recent stress." Devroy raised an eyebrow at his student, Draco knew he didn't buy the lie. Rolling his eyes and changing his stance slightly he began to speak. "Potter and I have come across some… complications."

Devroy's black eyes continued to stare at him through his rectangular glasses, then laughed slightly. "You two certainly seem to have an… interesting relationship." He paused for a moment. "I just do not want to see my best student fumbling because of some silly trifle. You're the only in the school that seems to understand the class properly."

"Thank you." Draco replied, unsure as to where the conversation was headed.

"I wouldn't really expect any less from Lucius' son, though." Draco's eyes darkened dramatically at the mention of his father's name, he felt his mouth unconsciously twitch. He didn't like being reminded who his father was. Something happened at that moment though, Draco noticed, to Devroy's Snape-like attitude. Understanding flickered in his eyes. At that moment, Draco knew that Devroy was aware of the type of relationship the young Malfoy had with his father.

"I should go." Draco said quickly, not knowing if Devroy would try to make him talk about it.

The walk from the Glamour Magic classroom to the Slytherin dorms was short, while this usually would have been appreciated, today Draco wished it had been longer because it would have given him more time to contemplate the seemingly out-of-place conversation he had just had. No, the blonde wizard though, it was the discussion they had, it was the look on the professor's face that was off putting.

Could Devroy know what was going on?

Draco entered his room and stared, confused. There on his bed lay a rectangular package, neatly wrapped in plain red paper. Curious, yet wary, the blonde made his way up to his bed. Atop the brightly coloured box sat a folded piece of parchment with "Malfoy" written on it. The penmanship was immediately recognized as Harry's.

"Alright how did you get in here, Potter?" The Slytherin asked the empty room while he picked up the parchment, unfolding it.

"I know you're angry at me, but this is something I know you'll like. You can't open it till Christmas, it's charmed so you can't.

Merry Christmas, you stupid git.

~ Harry"

Blinking, Draco turned his attention back to the gift. Why had Potter gotten something for him? Rolling his eyes, he grabbed the box, surprised by how little it weighed, and placed it on the top of his trunk. He'd debate if he should take it home or not later, he had an astrology chart he had to finish before his class tonight.

But he couldn't help remembering that one night in the dungeons….

He had called him Draco…

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