A/N: ROTFLMAO! I knew you'd be shocked about Filch! But there is a reason for his appearance. There is always a reason behind my weird ideas.
A/N II: Um, warning: A slight amount of femme-slash in this chapter…
A/N III: This chapter is (again) very long. The author apologizes.
16. Sweet Revenge
It was five thirty in the morning, and Draco Malfoy was already up. He had spent whole five minutes dressing in the chilly dormitory room, and now he was on his way up towards the castle's entrance hall. He had left all his friends soundly snoring, wanting to sneak out without drawing attention.
Tuesday… No classes with Gryffindor today… You're lucky, Harry Potter… At least till tonight… Draco smirked devilishly.
As he entered the entrance hall, he found it still completely abandoned, just like he had hoped and planned. Even the paintings seemed to be sleeping. The only distant noise was the silent clatter of plates that came from the kitchens below.
Draco stretched his pale fingers and paced back and forth, to warm up a bit. Impatiently, he glanced out of the tall gothic window to greet the white, dawning sky. And then he finally heard the footsteps he'd been waiting to hear.
Casually, Draco leaned against the windowsill next to the massive wooden entrance, turning his head towards the gateway at his right. First he saw Mrs. Norris, who looked as shrewd and elegant as always, padding noiselessly on the rocky floor. And then he saw Argus Filch, the marauder-looking caretaker of the castle, who was trying to find the right key from a heavy-looking bunch, in order to open the castle doors for the new day. Draco snorted silently, remembering the gossip that Filch was a squib, and therefore couldn't use magic for locking and unlocking the gates.
"Morning, Filch," Draco said lazily, even stretching his usual drawl.
The caretaker immediately looked up from the keys, placing his trademark cantankerous scowl on his face.
"What are you doing here at this hour, boy?" he grumbled. "Go back to your dormitory until it's time for the breakfast."
Draco didn't change his slightly disparaging expression, let alone move an inch to leave. "I don't think so, Filch. See, I want you to do me a favour."
Filch scowled even more. "I don't have the habit of doing favours to nasty little tormentors such as you, boy! Now get out of my sight, before I will give you detention."
"Oh, really? Detention, hmm?" Draco's voice was indescribably infuriating. "Tsut tsut… Let's behave a little more nicely, shall we, Mr. Filch. Otherwise, some very shady information of you and a certain student might reach the ears of our Headmaster."
Draco Malfoy was privileged to see Argus Filch go pale, wordless and horrified.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy!" he hushed, looking nervously around. "I haven't done anything! Anything!"
Draco allowed an evil smile creep over his lips. "No? Not anything?"
Filch was silent, but his eyes were casting vindictive daggers at Draco.
"Even if you were not the one who to blame, do you think that Headmaster Dumbledore believes you one fucking Hogwats minute? Especially when seeing my weeping, love-struck friend Goyle? After all, he did kiss you, and you did not push him entirely away."
Filch looked as if he'd eaten a cactus.
"And you know us Malfoys well enough to believe that the accusations I am threatening to make against you… They are somewhat more serious than just kissing, Filch. Very serious, actually. And Goyle will support them, on my command. But, in case you might help me out a little, I might just…"
"What do you want, you little devil?" Filch hissed trough his yellowish teeth. "Just tell me what you want, and leave me alone!"
"That's more like it, Mr Filch," Draco grinned, victoriously, and immensely happy about his Slytherin-based persuasion skills. "Let's go to your office to talk some business…"
The Gryffindor common room bathed in golden sunshine as Harry entered it with Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville. The red velvet curtains, crimson plush sofas, the dark wooden tables and the heavy oriental carpets absorbed the warmness, looking even a bit dusty. Hermione was sitting by the fire with Ginny Weasley, smiling happily at the incomers. Harry smiled back, collapsing to sit between her and Ginny, stretching his long legs and leaning in a relaxed manner to the sofa's backrest.
"Good morning, girls," Harry sang.
"Well, good morning to you too, Harry!" Hermione simpered, ruffling his dark hair. "It's so good to see you in high spirits again. I was really worried."
"Mmh… Yeah. I was a bit of a mess, wasn't I? But I know where I stand now," Harry said, accepting a bonbon from Ginny. "I'm so happy that I might just hug you all."
Ron knelt in front of them smiling, leaning to Hermione's knees. "It's been a long time since we three last spent a day together. What do you say if we try it again, Harry?"
"That sounds just wonderful, Ron," Harry said, feeling extremely peaceful. "I've been missing you and Hermione so much. I'm sorry I've been so distant lately."
"S'okay Harry," Ron patted his thigh. "Don't worry about it. You're not going to lose your best friends just because you're finally a normal teenager, suffering from lovesickness and stuff."
Harry gave him a hearty grin. "Lovesickness, eh? Maybe not exactly that. But you're right. This is just normal teenager stuff."
At least I hope it is…
The breakfast time was at hand, and the Gryffindors lazily began to move towards the portrait of the Fat Lady. Harry dreamily followed, thinking about Draco Malfoy's reaction in the library the previous afternoon.
Oh, great, he's SO mad at me, I can tell. Luckily we have no classes together today… He needs some time to recover… He smiled goofily, jumping the stairs down three at a time.
"You know, Harry, about Lavender," Ron began, looking amused. He obviously wasn't used to see Harry so beaming lately. "She claims she's now in love with Malfoy. What do you say to that?"
Harry couldn't help a loud snort. "Oh my Lord, not too much, I hope."
"Head over heels."
"Um… head over heels? That's no good. She hasn't got a chance in heaven with him."
"How do you know?" Ron asked, curiously.
"Because Malfoy's shagging someone else," Harry answered.
"Oh? And how do you know that?" Ron furrowed his brow.
"Hmm? Oh… Just… Isn't he always shagging someone?"
"Good point."
"Huh?"
"What?"
"Er…"
"Hey boys!" interrupted Hermione. "Wonder what Hagrid's got for us today? We're trough with the Dragon Flies, remember?"
Harry slid his fingers along the rocky handrail of the moving staircase and restored the beaming expression over his features. Hmm, not quite trough…
Draco was positively close to fall asleep in History of Magic. Professor Binns was telling some facts about the zillionth Goblin rebellion with his reedy but monotonous ghost voice, making both the Hufflepuff and Slytherin students widely yawn or chat silently with each other.
Since Draco thought it wasn't appropriate for a Malfoy to fall completely asleep during a class, he found a new interest in writing Harry Potter a letter. Soon, his expression was very much reminding the one of those goblins that were rebelling against whatsoever, as he tried to make his letter both seductive and innocent. He didn't want Potter to suspect anything but intimate sex, even though he had something very much else in store for him. Argus Filch had kindly taken care of that.
Potter,
Meet me at eleven o'clock at the Unicorn stables.
I guarantee you won't be disappointed.
D.M.
Draco was satisfied with himself. Short, Malfoyish style; no digressing, message clear. He folded up the parchment into a little square and put it in his pocket. Then he continued yawning with the rest of the class.
He was just about to fall in coma when he distinguished two Hufflepuff girls sniggering with each other, speaking about Harry Potter. Out of curiosity, he sharpened his ears, even though he still leaned over his desk, seemingly dozing gracefully against his outstretched arms.
"…and it's true. Nobody can escape the contest, because Lavender said that we could vote anybody, even Snape if we wanted. And I am definitely going to give my vote to Harry Potter," said Hannah Abbot, smiling disgustingly mawkishly at Susan Bones.
"Yeah, he's improved a lot during the last two years. But I still think Malfoy's more sexy," answered Bones, immediately flushing and taking a careful glance at Draco. Politely, and more because he didn't want to get caught from eavesdropping, Draco closed his eyes as if he were completely unaware of their discussion, thus letting poor embarrassed Susan out of the hook. And sure enough, she continued with new eagerness now.
"Harry has started to leave his glasses away more often, lately. Wonder where he got the idea. But his eyes come more radiantly forth without them, I must say. And if it was not that I prefer blonde hair to black…"
"Tee hee hee, you're so impossible, Susan," replied Hannah, "But why Malfoy? Why not Finnegan? Or Ron Weasley?"
Here, Draco could not help a relatively loud snort. The girls jumped a bit, but calmed down when seeing Draco still sleeping.
Oh my fucking shit of Hippogriff, how can one even suggest WEASEL? Draco grimaced against his forearm.
"Oh, but why don't you consider Etre or Montague, then?" Susan poked Hannah on the shoulder, giggling. "They're black-haired and quite gorgeous."
"B-but… they're Slytherins!" Hannah made a disgusted face.
"So is Malfoy, if you don't recall," Susan replied, showing the other girl her tongue.
"Yeah, but he's… well… he's Malfoy also! Therefore he doesn't count. But those other gits…"
"What about the girls, then? I'm sure Lavender arranges this all just to emphasize her own pretty face," Susan said, quite unkindly.
"True. But I think Chang's going to be the queen," Hannah mused. "You know… We all have the possibility to vote one boy and one girl. And I'm sure none of the girls will vote Lavender."
"Damn right we won't! She's such a self-absorbed little princess that she would make anybody want to puke," Susan forcibly huffed.
"But Harry dated her for a week, just recently. What do you say to that?"
"Only this. He dated her less than a week. Now what does that tell about her?"
"You're right. There's got to be something wrong with her, no matter how beautiful and Gryffindor she might then be," stated Hannah, looking satisfied. Obviously she was thinking about her own possibilities with Harry Potter. Then she twisted her mouth to a shrewd grin and leaned closer to Susan. "By the way, have you heard that Lavender's now crazy over your dear sexy Malfoy here?"
Draco could not help another loud snort.
Honestly… This is going so insane…
Professor Binns ended the girls' conversation with his loud statement that the students would have to make a ten-inches-long essay for the next lesson. It would be about the goblin king Gilbert the Great and his doings with some ancient Dark Lord called Soth.
Draco sighed and dragged himself charmingly out of the classroom with Zabini, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle.
Harry Potter was on his way to lunch with Ron and Hermione when he suddenly collided with Draco Malfoy. He hastily stopped himself from smiling and drooling when seeing how extremely stunning the Slytherin looked that day. Instead, he narrowed his laughing eyes to a scowl and crossed his arms in a threatening manner.
"Malfoy, have you gone blind or something?" he snarled. And then he added wickedly, "Or were you just hasting towards the hospital wing? I hear you had a really bad tummy ache last evening."
Draco cast him such a menacing look that Harry had real difficulties to keep himself from laughing his ass off.
"I never knew you cared about my health, Potter," Draco sneered, eyeing the Gryffindor carefully.
"I never knew either," Harry shrugged. "Actually, I never knew you had a thing like health in the first place. Taken that you've always been rather off the deep end…"
"Watch your mouth, Potter," Draco sizzled, "And I mean, really watch your mouth."
Harry grinned, unable to help it. "I better have you watch it, Malfoy."
Draco fumed. Hermione and Ron exchanged confused expressions.
"Harry… Don't provoke another fight. Heaven knows you've had enough of them, lately," Hermione said.
"He's already provoked it, Granger," Draco growled and pushed Harry angrily against the wall. "He just can't help wanting to get in physical contact with me. Can you, Pot-head?"
Harry felt Draco's fingers intrude in his trouser pocket in secret, and he instantly knew he'd find a message from there later on.
"No, I really can't help it, Malfoy," Harry hissed, bringing his mouth dangerously close to Draco's. "Because you seem to give me no other choice."
Draco involuntarily licked his lips. "I hate you, you do know that, Potter?"
"Likewise, Malfoy," Harry let his breath caress Malfoy's moist lower lip. "Now would you please get your fucking hands off me?"
"With uttermost pleasure," Draco murmured and stepped away, however not forgetting to squeeze Harry's bottom unnoticeably before it.
"Come on, Harry, let's go to have some food," Ron said, finally able to breathe. He'd been very anxious about his friend, and was really relieved that Malfoy had not made the situation more heated.
"Yeah, let's go, Ron," Harry smiled, not the least disturbed by Malfoy's attack. "Hope they have mince pies and cherry fudge and nut brittle…"
Hermione laughed. "You really are changed, Harry."
Harry looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you didn't take the sizzling Malfoy anyhow at all. You just shrugged and began to talk about food."
Harry couldn't help laughing at Hermione's description of his behaviour. "Well, he wasn't serious. He was just being a git."
"How'd you know?"
Harry was saved from answering when Lavender Brown hastily pushed past them, nudging Harry with her elbow.
"Well, she's the one who's serious," Harry grimaced.
"What's she up to?" wondered Ron.
They all watched as Lavender hurried along the Great Hall middle aisle, towards the front where the sorting ceremony usually took place.
"She's about to make an announcement of some kind," Hermione sighed. "Hopefully not about…"
"EVERYBODY HEAR ME? EVERYBODY SEE ME?" Lavender's loud voice interrupted her sentence. "Excellent."
The Gryffindor trio found their seats and sat down, unable to avoid hearing what Lavender had to say.
"THE BEAUTY CONTEST BEGINS!"
Oh, aw… waah… Harry winced and leaned his forehead to his palms. I'm going to vomit right now…
From the corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy being close to feeling ill, as well.
"Every student and teacher has two votes. One for the best looking boy, and one for the best looking girl," Lavender's annoying voice continued. "We have three days time to make our choices. The voting happens with the help of this goblet."
Lavender held out a shining golden goblet for everybody to see.
"It's called the Goblet of Beauty. And it can't be fooled. Everybody has only two votes."
Ron made a face. "If Lavender's the one who's made that goblet, I bet it can bloody well be fooled. She'll be giving herself at least a hundred votes."
Hermione and Harry snorted.
For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy felt nervous about going to the Divination classes. He still hadn't forgotten about the awkward vision he'd gotten the last time he gazed at the crystal ball. He didn't know if it had been just a dream, though, but he still felt a little uneasy tingling in his chest when he sat by the round table with Crabbe and Goyle.
Draco couldn't help pursing his elegant nose when the heavy perfumes hit his nose again. He leaned back in his chair, trying to get accustomed to the piercing smell, when he saw how his sidekicks were watching him.
"What?" he asked, sourly.
Crabbe and Goyle both turned their heads away quickly.
"You've been watching me that oddly all day. What the fuck is wrong with you? Because, I know there can never be anything wrong with me!"
Here Crabbe got the courage to shift his eyes back at the gorgeous blonde boy next to him. "Um… We're just worried. You know… After last afternoon… When you got the horrible stomach ache attack…"
"Yeah," accompanied Goyle, "Since then you've got this constant evil smirk on your face, whatever you are then doing. It's kind of scary, you know."
Draco instantly made the smirk even viler, addressing it at his friends. They shifted in their chairs a little anxiously. "Well, am I not a Slytherin? It's just normal that I'm thinking about wicked things, is it not?"
Goyle swallowed. "I guess so. But… You must have something exceptionally malicious in your mind this time."
Draco flashed his white teeth. "Mmm, you might say that, dear Gregory… You might say that…"
"Alright, students, we are now going to continue with the crystal balls," the far-flung voice of Trelawney started. "It is very useful to rehearse the skills you've learned during the earlier years at this school, and I can say there were many improvements last Thursday. Now, if you please… I will try a new method. There is going to be some music that should help you to concentrate."
Fucking great! The sole purpose of my life has always been to find out what kind of music Professor Trelawney likes. Draco closed his eyes in despair. Hope it's not the Weird Sisters… God, let it not be the Weird Sisters…
Lucky for Draco, the music that started was rather beautiful, with violin and piano. Satisfied with Trelawney's choice, he obediently grabbed his crystal ball and lightly began to throw it from hand to another, as if it would have been a small Quaffle. He honestly had no desire to get hypnotized by the music and the perfumes, and he definitely didn't want to glare into the frigging ball. But the crystal orb didn't quite give him an option. It started to glow anyway.
Draco halted his movements mesmerized. His fingers were smoothing the surface of the item, feeling the coldness that radiated from it. And then he began to see again.
And this time, it wasn't just a hasty mass of random figures and actions.
Ah… This is my room. There's my luxurious four-poster and there is my enormous wardrobe. And yes, under my feet is the carpet that is so thick that I nearly have to wade across all the oriental softness. Oh, and somebody's knocking on the door. I am standing in the middle of the floor. But why do I look so insecure?
The incomer is my Father. He's looking like he was proud of me. Oh, he's always been so proud of me, in his own way.
But why am I so insecure?
Father takes steps closer. And I just stand there as if I had no idea what to do or say, how to react. Hmm… weird…
My father reaches out his hand, landing it on my shoulder. And I visibly flinch.
Why the hell do I flinch?
He looks at me oddly. Hell, even I look at me oddly. But Father still smiles at me. But for some reason, I'm not happy to see him smile. My eyes are so dark…
He slides his hand down my arm, grabbing my wrist. And he pulls up the sleeve, smoothing my alabaster skin with his long icy fingers. I know they are icy fingers. They always are. And I flinch again.
"It's the time, my son."
I draw my hand away and hiss at him. Father frowns at me. He's displeased.
What, did I just hiss at my Father? What the HELL is wrong with me?
It must be this sodding ball again…
Father raises his brows. His brows that are so much like mine. And I see that my mother has also entered the room.
My eyes wander at her direction. She looks beautiful. She smiles at me. But she's nervous.
Why is my mother nervous? She never is.
Then I say something to my Father. I cannot hear what it is… Damn. But obviously… Obviously he doesn't like what I say. Oh, fuck…
His face goes completely stony. Only his eyes betray that there's an emotion in his heart. And hell, I know that emotion so well.
Oh, fuck…
He yells something at me, his fury interrupting his sentence. And he hits me in the face.
And he hits me another time…
And another…
And I cry. I fucking CRY!
I am huddled in a heap on the floor. I'm covered with my own blood. But… But… Oh, Merlin, this is getting difficult.
I look at my mother, pleadingly. She cries, as well.
Father has taken out his wand. I reckon he's about to cast a killing curse on me. Or at least Cruciatus.
I bend my head in defeat.
WHAT? Now this is going ABSOLUTELY too thick!
"Cruciatus!"
Father says the incantation, pointing his wand at me. But my mother flings herself between us, and gets hit by the horrible magic, herself. She succeeds to snap the wand from Father's hand… it rolls far away. And my mother collapses against my father, in pain.
"You bitch!"
Father's voice echoes in my ears, making my head hurt. He takes a knife from his pocket and… Oh, Lord… He stabs her between the shoulder blades.
This can't… This can't be happening to me again… I want out of here… I want out! OUT!
"OUT!" Draco yelled, from the bottom of his lungs. He grated his teeth together and with rage, he threw the crystal ball out of the Divination tower window. "It's NOT BLOODY HAPPENING!"
"Mr. Malfoy!" It was the shocked Professor Trelawney.
Draco turned his flaming grey eyes at her, breathing heavily.
"Mr. Malfoy, this is outrageous! Go and get the crystal ball immediately back!"
"I'm not bloody going near that ruddy orb of gimcrack, Professor. No fucking way!"
Every student, along with the Slytherins, gazed at Draco with wide eyes. It wasn't that he had sworn; he always did so. But it was another thing to bluster in front of a Professor. And a rampant nuts professor, at that.
"You go out of this classroom immediately, Mr. Malfoy, and bring that ball back!" Trelawney shouted, with a shrill voice. "This instant!"
Draco only glared. "No."
"Twenty points from Slytherin!" Trelawney shrieked. "And if you still continue to disobey me…"
"Alright, alright!" Draco grunted, lifting his hands in front of him as if Trelawney would have been in danger to jump him. He thought it was probably the first time in hundred years that a house had lost points in Divination. Neatly, Draco then targeted his wand out of the window. "Accio crystal ball!"
In a few seconds, the orb emerged back inside, amazingly still in one piece.
"You are very lucky that it is not broken, Mr. Malfoy," Trelawney alleged, her voice shaking with anger and shock.
"You're mistaken, Professor," Draco stated, letting the ball roll over the other side of the table. "It is broken."
"Lumos!"
Harry Potter was treading softly along the long aisles of Hogwarts, quarter to eleven in the evening. The moonlight had made his way white all the way downstairs, but now, as he had reached the bottom floor, there were suddenly no windows left to allow the silvery beams sneak inside. The only illumination was the gentle golden shimmer on the top of his wand, as he proceeded towards the little backdoor that would lead him to the moon-washed garden before the stables.
Meet me at eleven o'clock at the Unicorn stables. I guarantee you won't be disappointed. Harry remembered Draco's invitation. But of course I won't be disappointed. Not with you, Malfoy. Never with you…
Just as he was pushing the narrow wooden door open, he heard a muffled voice coming from a close distance. Immediately he sharpened his ears, gathering a vigilant poise and leaning tightly against the wall.
"Nox!" he whispered, turning down the light from his wand and eagerly straining his eyes to see some movement around. However, he saw nothing.
Relaxing a bit, Harry turned towards the garden gate again. And then he heard the voice again. Actually, two female voices, silently speaking with each other in the direction of an abandoned classroom at Harry's left.
Now what is this? I thought everybody was in bed, already. Harry couldn't help his curiosity and tiptoed closer to the classroom's door that was slightly ajar. I hope neither of the Prefects will find them. This would be a place to take at least twenty points from their houses. Harry completely forgot that he himself was as much in danger to lose points as those two girls in the classroom.
Making sure his breathing was soundless, and the hems of his robes were making no ruffling sound, Harry moved to look inside the classroom from the little chink.
He was faced with a view that almost knocked him out.
"Tell me, Ginny, does it feel good when I do it like this," said a hushed but eager voice of Hermione, who was sitting on the floor, dangerously close to Ron's little sister, now sliding her hand rather demandingly behind her crane. "Just say what you think."
Harry watched with dilated eyes as Hermione gently opened Ginny's lips with her tongue, sliding it along the younger girl's teeth and finally sinking it into her mouth completely. Ginny's soft moans nearly made Harry's jaw hit the stony floor with amazement. What in the name of the Voldemort's mother's cat is this?
"Mmm… It wasn't that bad, Hermione," Ginny smiled at the elder Gryffindor. "But what if you do it just a little differently, like this?"
Ginny leaned against Hermione, softly biting her lips before giving her a profound French kiss, lingering her tongue at the brunette's lips before parting.
Harry was now nearly hypnotized. He felt a burn in his trousers, watching the two dearest girls in his acquaintance making it out right in front of his eyes. They were, however, still completely dressed, and were in no hurry of reducing their clothing. More! More! Harry's mind screamed, whereas his mouth was twisted in a frenzied grin. He imagined he looked so crazy that somebody would immediately throw him at St. Mungo's, if he was caught. Go for it, girls!
Hermione tried to kiss Ginny back the way Ginny had just kissed her, making it however more slowly, taking support from Ginny's jowl as she sucked the girl's lower lip. Harry's eyes reminded the ones of an owl on a hunting trip as he leaned forwards, absorbing every single detail of their intimate touch. Yes… Say you like it, Ginny…
"Oh… That was very wonderful, Hermione," Ginny flushed, leaning her forehead to Hermione's shoulder. "I'm absolutely sure Ron will love it."
Ron? What's Ron got to do with this?
"I hope you're right," Hermione answered, with a sigh. "It's just that… Well… I can't understand why he hasn't kissed me after Halloween. You know, all those little tender pecks on the forehead or cheek do not feel anywhere."
"But I am sure that it has nothing to do with your kissing skills, Herm," Ginny smiled, smoothing the brunette's chocolate hair. "You're amazing."
Hermione smiled, too. "So are you, Ginny. But you must promise me once again that this stays between us two."
"Of course!" Ginny laughed, taking Hermione's hands in her own and looking in her brown eyes. "Do you think I want the whole school to know that we practise kissing with each other, so that our current or future boyfriends would be surprised with our skills? I don't think so."
Hermione gave a hearty laugh as well. "Yes, we are good kissers by nature!"
The girls began to rise up, and Harry hastily backed away from the door, hiding himself in the shadows as the two small hooded Gryffindors swished past him, back towards the Gryffindor tower.
Good Lord… Malfoy has better have something very alleviating waiting for me…
Draco Malfoy was leaning to an old, half-rotten gate of the stables, looking immeasurably acidic. His pale and furious face was even whiter than milk in the nightly shimmer, which made him look like a hungry male Veela, waiting for his victim.
"You are late, Potter!" he snarled, as the Gryffindor finally deigned to arrive. "I don't like to be kept waiting."
Harry considered Malfoy's expression rather cute, when the Slytherin tugged his lower lip out, trying to look even more rebellious and displeased.
"Sorry, dearest," he teasingly said with his low voice that had just a year before turned very masculine. "I just bumped into something that imperatively delayed my way down here."
Harry could almost hear Malfoy growl like a mad tiger. "What could possibly be more imperative than my request?"
Gently, Harry smoothed Draco's chin with a thumb. "What would you say about a show with two pretty girls kissing each other?"
For a second, Draco's eyes showed interest, but then he turned sombre again. "Been there, done that, seen it all."
"I believe you have," Harry said, now caressing Draco from under the jowl.
"So… Who were they? Millicent and Pansy?" Draco callously inquired, jostling Potter's hand down.
"No, they were two Gryffindors," Harry smiled. "As you would put it: Granger and the youngest Weasley."
At this, Draco indeed raised his famous eyebrows. "Well, well, well… I'd never thought."
"Yes, it really was a rather interesting act…"
Harry wasn't allowed to finish when Draco hauled him around and tied a dark Slytherin scarf over his eyes, so that he could not see a thing.
"Hey! You put it too tight, Malfoy," Harry complained.
"Shut up, Potter," Draco commanded, dragging the Gryffindor inside the roomy stall. "You don't even have your frigging eyeglasses that would go broken, thank God for that. So don't complain. You won't have to wear it too long."
Harry complied with Malfoy's request, instead concentrating to feel and scent his surroundings. The smell was earthy but not at all as bad as in normal horse stables, Harry thought. Unicorns were always so pure. Even though Harry could not see it, he sensed that there were at least ten huge animals in the same space with them, perhaps looking also somewhat put out because of the disturbance. Harry remembered the first time he had made a trip over the ice-covered lake in the sledge that one of those luminously-white horses had towed, and Ron had nearly frozen to hypothermia.
He was reminded of Malfoy again, as the Slytherin pushed him roughly against a wooden post, locking his wrists with cold manacles and then lifting his arms in the air, combining the chain of the handcuffs to another chain hanging from the roof.
"Now, there," Draco said impishly. "You might just want to hear what I have in store for you tonight."
Draco took the scarf away from Harry's eyes with trembling fingers. However, he was trembling with suffocated hilarity, not passion or fear or insecurity. He had planned such a horrible joke for his too-tricky lover for that night.
"Tada!" Draco elegantly gestured around, allowing Harry a good view over a voluminous series of different torture devices. "We have a really kinky night ahead, darling. You didn't think I would forget about last afternoon, would you?"
Draco watched as Harry's expression went from surprised to shocked, and there to horror-struck. "Either you're really screwed up, Malfoy, or you're really screwed up. What is this, whips and ropes and leather?"
"Oh, so you already know what this is all about, then?" Draco nonchalantly said, biting down a wide grin. "You've done this before, Potter?"
"No! I fucking haven't!" Harry winced, trying to shake the cold manacles off, although knowing it futile.
He tensed considerably as Draco stepped closer, pointing his wand at his chest.
"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Harry's voice was a mere whisper, so insecure he now was.
"I am going to divest your clothes, of course," the blonde boy sneered, making an incantation with his wand. "Reducio Induviae!"
Harry's shirt and trousers ripped apart, shattering over the floor in rags and tatters, leaving a shivering Boy-Who-Lived almost naked in his chains.
"You're so sick, Malfoy! You're so damn sick!" Harry shrieked, not knowing how to best help himself. He was defenceless and embarrassed.
"You must now be thinking that I am some whacked pervert who would like to spank your nice little ass with a whip, don't you?" Draco drawled, slithering a finger across Harry's chest.
Harry scowled. "It doesn't need very much effort to think something like that about you, Malfoy."
Draco turned away, shaking with inaudible laughter. When he had recovered, he addressed Potter again. "You didn't mean that, did you, my dearest? Because I'd hate to think that you don't trust me."
"Trust you? Trust you! That would be just the same than sending Voldemort an invitation to my graduation party!" Harry growled. "What are you going to do with all this stuff, Malfoy? And where did you get it?"
"Impatient, are we?"
"Malfoy…"
"Oh, don't worry, my love. Filch will be here any minute."
"FILCH!" Harry nearly shouted his lungs out. "What the hell is FILCH coming here for?"
Draco turned away again, desperately trying not to howl with laughter. "Um… Since he was so generous as to lend me all this stuff, I told him he'd be privileged to use it on you, if he would allow me to watch."
"WHAT? You sick BASTARD!" Harry cried with ultimate horror. He was feeling a bit cold with only his boxers on and definitely even colder when thinking about Argus Filch emerging any minute to witness his exposed state, in order to use those various instruments on him. "I will fucking kill you for this, Malfoy!"
"Oh, in that case," Draco said and turned to walk out of the door. "I will not stay over and watch."
"Malfoy, don't you go anywhere!" Harry whimpered, now pleadingly. "Don't… Don't do this to me!"
"And why not?" Draco asked. "What you did yesterday to me wasn't exactly that nice, either. Besides, I'm a very revengeful nature. You keep that in mind."
Harry shivered as the cold night air streamed in from the open door. "Don't you fucking leave me like this, Malfoy, you sick sodding bastard!"
There was a smirk on Draco's lips. "You're right, Scar-head. I won't leave you like that."
He returned to Harry, picking up the Slytherin scarf from the ground and tying it over Harry's eyes again.
"Happy evening with Filch, sugar."
And Draco Malfoy was gone.
Draco walked into the garden, sitting on the edge of a nice, little fountain. He looked at the sky, which was unnaturally lucid. It promised rain for the morning.
Chuckling, Draco helped himself a vanilla cigarette, lighting it up with an incantation. He could hear Potter's yells many minutes afterwards, and they became more and more agitated and horrified as the time went by.
Draco let his right hand fingers trace the surface of the water, eyeing the little stony statue of a boy pouring the water from a little stony vase. So ordinary. Not at all beautiful.
There was a stifled sound Harry trying to get away from the chains. Draco smiled horribly.
Learns to humiliate me in public, that one.
Draco took a long draft of his cigarette.
Harry Potter was feeling appalled. He really did not trust Draco Malfoy, and could well believe he was serious about Filch. After all, it was generally known that Filch favoured old-fashioned methods what it came to punish the students from their vandalism, and if he was told some horrible lies about Harry… Let alone some true stories…
Sighing, Harry tried to get the chains once more off his wrists, writhing around, feeling defenceless and a bit cold. He tried to shake the scarf away from his eyes, but didn't succeed in that, either. For some time, he had tried to yell after Malfoy, but the boy hadn't returned. And now Harry had lost all the will to make any kind of noise. For who would hear him?
Absolutely no-one.
So was Harry Potter forced to experience a completely new kind of terror in his living days. He could not see, and there was nothing to hear either, except for the silent breaths of the Unicorns. Every time when one of the animals took a step, Harry tensed, thinking that it was finally Filch who'd come to torture him.
Oh Dear Lord… Malfoy can't be serious… But then again… For all I know, he could be.
Harry felt his half-naked body tremble with disgust. He didn't even try to imagine the scene that would follow when the caretaker would step in.
If I get out of this mess unscratched, I promise I will… Harry's thoughts came immediately to a dead end. I promise what? There is nothing I could promise. I still would never let Ron ride my Firebolt. I still won't tell anybody about last Halloween. I still won't comb my hair any better. I still have no willingness to shop new clothes, although heaven knows how many times Hermione has nagged at me about that… And I still would never go back together with Lavender Brown.
He thought some happy things for a while, trying to get his mind off his current state. But the happy things soon faded away, when another memory flooded in his brains. A memory from his fourth year. A deadly memory.
It had been after the Triwizard Tournament's last task. After Cedric Diggory and he had grabbed the portkey that had led them at Voldemort's feet. Also then he had been tied up like this, and exposed to a danger. But it had been much more a mortal danger than Argus Filch.
Harry shivered as he recalled how he'd been recklessly lulling against the tombstone, hit by the pain on his forehead. His current position didn't help him forget about those horrible memories; on the contrary. And before he noticed it, he started to cry.
He had not cried in many, many days. Not after he'd accepted his abnormality as normality. Therefore, his tears were plenty and salty, making him sniffle as a memory after another raced trough his mind. Cedric hit by the killing curse… Voldemort's resurrection… Wormtail's whines as his hand was taken away… The fight with Voldemort… and the ghosts of his parents.
His parents…
Oh, dear God…
Harry had never told anybody exactly what had happened that evening. That is, what had happened to his own self. Not even Ron and Hermione knew how traumatic that evening had been. And Harry had never even wanted to tell them. He'd always pushed the feeling aside. He'd blocked those memories firmly from his mind.
But now, when he was reminded about them again, Harry finally couldn't help the burning sorrow invade his heart.
Harry sobbed like a little child, unable to resist the painful recollections. And really, the fact that he was hanging in chains, helplessly defenceless, waiting for lord-knows-what from the most repulsive man of his acquaintance didn't make Harry feel any better.
Outside, Draco Malfoy was rolling a second vanilla cigarette between his fingers. The ashes flickered to the ground like miniature snowflakes, landing on a pretty forget-me-not. Draco had been sitting outside by the fountain all the time, watching his breaths vaporize in the moistening nightly air and waiting for a convenient moment to return to Harry Potter.
When he heard no more writhing and protesting, he thought he might as well finish his distasteful joke.
Silently as Mrs. Norris, he walked back to the door that led inside the stables. The familiar shimmer of orange lanterns welcomed him inside, giving him a velvety view at the Boy Who Lived. The corner of Draco's mouth curled up a bit as he deliberately made some noise stepping inside. Immediately, the fine muscled body before his eyes tensed, in readiness to fight back whatever evil would try to come over it.
Draco continued walking towards the boy, half-heartedly kicking a rack of some odd metallic devices he honestly didn't know what they were meant for. He watched as Potter's breathes came more rapid, his head turning so that he could hear precisely where the incomer was moving. And then Draco stopped in his trails, like nailed to the floor.
Harry Potter was crying.
Draco felt a very freezing liquid make its way down his throat, wrapping around his heart and dropping into his stomach. His eyes went wide with shock, his exhale coming out as a weak current of air. He looked at Harry's face, covered still with the scarf. The scarf was dark with tears, some of them also making strains down the paled cheeks of the beautiful Gryffindor boy. For once in his life, Draco Malfoy felt guilty for what he had done.
As quickly as he had been nailed on the spot, he was again released. Heatedly, he flung himself at Harry, ignoring the kick Harry succeeded to give to his thigh. He ripped the scarf off the boy's eyes, holding his face between his hands. He saw how Harry's eyes immediately darted across the room, nervously and frightfully.
"Potter? Potter! Calm down, it's me. It's just me..."
Harry focused his eyes to the blonde in front of him, revealing Draco two large pools of emerald water. A new cold feeling shook the Slytherin's body as he looked straight in those fearful, sad irises.
"F-filch?" uttered Harry, his voice so silent that Draco almost couldn't hear it.
Despite himself, Draco felt a nasty twinge behind his eyelids as he began to stroke the carbon hair away from the Gryffindor's forehead as gently as he could.
"There's no Filch, Potter. There never was."
Harry swallowed, only to hold back another sob. "N-no Filch?"
Draco swore how close he was to crying, himself. But Malfoy's never cried. Never.
"Of course not, you silly brat," he said softly in Harry's ear, lifting his wand for an alohomora. "I would never share you with anyone. I would never let anyone touch you but me."
Harry's chains fell on the floor, as did his manacles. Instantly, he collapsed in Draco's arms, now giving fully in to his traumatic memories. He cried from the bottom of his heart. A ragged, soul-splitting cry he had never let out before. Not in two years. Actually, not in sixteen years.
And Draco Malfoy was horrified.
Harry Potter clung to Draco's neck so tightly that it was hard for the Slytherin to keep them both standing. Draco had never in his life felt such a physical contact before. Neither had he ever felt the need to comfort anybody before. And as to that, he had never even felt this guilty about anything before.
"Sshhh, Potter, everything's alright," he tried to mumble, feeling the twinge even more urgent behind his eyes.
Harry didn't reply, only nuzzled his head deeper under Draco's chin, wetting his skin with warm tears.
"I'm so sorry, Potter…" Draco's voice was a mere whisper as he embraced the shuddering boy. He realized that he had never even apologized in his life before. It just wasn't his style. And now Potter was making him do everything he had never wanted to do, by his mere presence.
"I'm so sorry…" Draco once again exhaled, and found himself giving gentle kisses on Harry's head. "Harry… Please don't cry… I'm so sorry…"
Draco felt Harry's fingers scratch the shirt canvas on his back, trying to get a better hold of him. Then he remembered that the Gryffindor was only in his underwear, probably freezing to death.
"Here, let me help you…"
Draco gently detached Harry from him and swiftly divested his black school cloak. As being so good at Transfiguration, he neatly changed it into a warm blanket, wrapping it around Harry's shoulders. Then he pulled the Gryffindor back in his embrace, moving hands across his body to make him feel a bit warmer and kissing tentatively the jagged scar on his forehead. Harry seemed to like what he was doing, because he soon stopped shivering, and really calmed down.
"I… I'm not crying b-because of you, Malfoy," Harry whispered.
Draco instantly tightened his embrace. "What did you say?"
Harry turned so that he could see Draco's eyes. "I don't cry because of what you did. I can take a joke, that's alright. It was just…"
"Harry, what I did was really horrible. I shouldn't have done that. But I don't always think…"
"I know you've learned a lot more horrible things at home. I'm just glad you settled with this," Harry smiled.
"Glad? How the hell can you be glad? You should now be hexing me senseless!"
Harry brought his hand over Draco's cheek and smoothed it. "I'd appreciate if you'd just shut the fuck up and listen to me."
"Um… Whatever, Potter."
"I didn't cry because of your joke, even though it was really nasty. I cried because… Because I remembered something I've tried to forget. This situation just somehow… brought it all to my mind, again."
"See, you did cry because of me."
"I didn't know you cared if I cried or not, Malfoy."
Draco furrowed his brows and tugged his lower lip out, like earlier that evening. Harry laughed.
They stood several minutes in silence, leaning against each other. Draco could feel Harry's heartbeats against his chest, and he felt oddly nervous. He felt that he actually could start to like Potter.
"Malfoy?"
"Hmm?"
"Did you truly mean it?"
Draco slowly inhaled the pleasant apple scent of Harry's black hair, even though he still was scowling. "Did I truly mean what?"
"That you'd never share me with anyone?"
Draco flushed. "Um… I'm a selfish nature, Potter. You of all people should know that. I never share anything with anyone."
Draco could feel Harry smiling against his neck.
"What?" he asked, a bit annoyed.
Harry just widened his smile. "Oh, nothing…"
Draco sulked. "Potter…"
"You called me Harry earlier."
Draco sulked more. "Don't get accustomed to that, Potter."
Harry giggled and teasingly bit Draco's neck. "Of course not, Malfoy."
Draco groaned in frustration and let Harry go. "You really are a nuisance, Potter, honestly."
"I know I am," Harry beamed.
Draco was very confused. He couldn't understand how Harry could be so cheerful after what had just happened. But then again, this was the hero of Gryffindor. Probably capable of everything related to goodness, joyfulness and braveness, not forgetting cunningness.
"You owe me an apology, Malfoy," Harry murmured, bringing his lips close to Draco's. "A huge apology."
"Apologize my…"
Harry closed the distance and drew Draco in an intense kiss. Then he began to divest the blonde's shirt, placing gentle kisses down his chest when it was revealed.
"Ahh… Potter… You're incredible…"
"Mmm… Tell me exactly how incredible…"
"Very incredible… Yes… Oh… Oh, yes… Oh, Harry…"
…TBC…
A/N: Oh, how cute…! *Wide grin* Sorry, my dear readers, but there's still going to be a lot of angst ahead. Just wanted some tenderness in between...