A/N I: Sorry this took so long! I've been very busy, but I promise to hurry with chapter 24, since I know exactly what I write in it… ;)
A/N II: As to my updating schedule, I try to make a new chapter ready every second weekend. But sometimes it goes faster, and sometimes I just can't get myself to write at all. So I don't have any regular updating days. But as I said, the interval usually tends to be two weeks.
A/N III: Thanks for everyone who reviewed. I love you all so much! My heart is bursting out with all the kind words I received. *sigh*
23. The Dragon Tamer
The red eyes, the swollen lids. They both had tamed a little during Harry's journey back to the Gryffindor Tower. Instead, the fury of the previous night was seeping through his system again, powerful, mind-clutching. The familiar determination of Harry James Potter was taking control.
Harry slammed the door of his dormitory room forcefully against the wall and marched straight at one four-poster next to his own.
"Ron!"
Ronald Weasley bolted up from his bed so fast that he lost his balance and smashed onto the floor.
"I think we have some unfinished business," Harry smirked.
Blue eyes widened as Ron realised who it was. "Harry…"
"Yeah. Me." Harry's expression was lacerating, and if someone had realized to connect, much like Draco's when the Slytherin was angry.
Ron stumbled on his feet, swaying a little, and leaned on the wall. He instantly began to fidget with the buttons on his pajama top.
"Harry… I am so sorry."
"I know," Harry said, expression not changing.
"I… Er… You didn't find him?"
"Oh, I found him, alright."
"…and?"
"He left me."
"Oh."
Harry smiled creepily. "See, Ronnekins, I'm not very happy with you right now. But."
"B-but?"
"But since I'm not willing to lose two beloved friends in a matter of six hours, I am willing to forgive you."
"Y-you are?" Ron stammered, uncertainly.
"Yeah, I am." Harry looked wild. "If."
"…if what?"
Harry brushed the ebony hair from his eyes and trailed his finger down along his cheek, smirking.
"You are going to do me some favours."
"Favours?"
"Stop answering me with silly one-word sentences. You heard me right."
Harry grabbed Ron's black school robes that were lying on the chair next to the redhead's bed, and threw them at Ron.
"Get dressed. We have a long Saturday ahead of us."
Ron obeyed, still wiping sleep dust from his eyes. "Harry, it is bloody seven thirty in the morning!"
"And what a fine morning it is," Harry said, finding Ron's shoes and placing them in front of his half-forgiven friend. "By the way, do you know if any other than Malfoy has an eagle owl?"
"Not that I've heard," Ron said, shrugging, and closed the belt of his trousers.
Harry scowled at himself and bit his lip. "Oh, what the hell… Perhaps it was just a wild stray."
"By the way, you got an owl last night," Ron remembered. "I put the letter on your pillow."
Harry raised a brow, turned and went to fetch it. "It's from Remus."
H.
The Dark Lords' troops are getting anxious. Obviously something is going on. Be vigilant. They might have somebody inside Hogwarts.
R.L.
"Somebody inside Hogwarts, indeed," Harry smiled.
Ron had been reading the letter over his shoulder, and sharpened his eyes. "Bet it is Malfoy."
"Of course it is Malfoy," Harry smiled even wider.
Ron looked at him as if he'd grown two heads. "What's so wonderful about it?"
"Oh…" Harry simpered, "Nothing."
Just that I don't fucking care if he betrays me right now, because he has left me. If I cannot get him, I might as well die. Stop! No. That is not right. I know he has this mission, but I also know he wouldn't… he wouldn't betray me. Would he? Even though I did that to him. Would he? Fuck, I need to get him back. That's the only thing that matters right now. Fuck everything else. Fuck Voldemort. Draco…
"Harry?"
"Huh?"
"What are you contemplating?"
Harry shook his head, dismissing the disturbing thoughts. "Ron. When I said you were going to do me some favours… Let's make the rules more clear."
"Okay," Ron shrugged.
"You will do anything I tell you, during these next twenty-four hours. You will not question, you will not wonder, you will not think of my motives. You will just act, alright? No matter how crazy my ideas might sound."
"Um…"
"And you will pretend that you do this all by your own free will."
"Er…"
"If you will comply, I will forgive you, and we'll be good friends again."
Ron looked Harry straight in the eye, and despite seeing there a mad little glint, he still trusted his friend, "Deal."
"Draco, where have you been?"
It was Pansy, looking worried. Mary-Ann and Blaise were sitting on a green Slytherin couch right behind her, glancing at his direction anxiously. There were also half of the other sixth and seventh years present, all of whom were suffering from tremendous hangovers. Etre even held a wet towel over his face and didn't see or hear anything in his half coma.
"Oh, I just went for a little fly," Draco grinned.
"Quidditch practise?" asked Gregory Goyle, looking very sick, holding a half-full paper bag in front of his face, "At this ungodly hour?"
Bole smacked the thick-headed Gregory in the head. "No, you dumb ass, he said he went for a little fly."
Vincent poked Gregory on the arm, stirring his eyes in the dim light, his head aching. "That eagle thing, remember?"
"Oh," Gregory finally seemed to understand, but soon after returned to look at the insides of his bag.
"Yes, I tried some winged life for a while," Draco drawled, and made his way in the centre of the room. "I went to see Harry in my animagus form."
Blaise jumped up from her seat. "You went to see Harry," she repeated, swaying over to him, looking very tired.
"Yes," Draco smiled. "I think I'm going to forgive him."
"What?" Montague raised his gaze from the magazine he was reading. "You can't be serious!"
"Oh, but I am," Draco simpered. "He really loves me. I can tell."
"Of course he loves you," Pansy huffed, and swore afterwards as somebody inside her head decided to stab her brain.
Mary-Ann stretched her fingers lazily and yawned. "Oh, I think it is our Draco here who is in love."
Draco scowled at her. "Let's not get mushy, Greengrass. Harry needs to suffer a great deal before I even consider taking him back!"
Montague smiled, an evil glint lighting up in his eyes. "That's my Draco Malfoy! What do you have in mind?"
Draco's brows furrowed, deep in thought. "First I want all of you to know… There's only six days until we have to break up again. So don't get your hopes up about a wedding invitation."
Blaise, Mary-Ann, Millicent and Pansy all pouted. "But why?"
"Why?" Draco raised his brows. "I think you all know why."
"Because of the Call?" Etre muttered under his soaking cold towel. "Your initiation is next Saturday, right?"
Crabbe grunted. "Yeah, it is. My father just wrote me how much Lucius is ranting about it. He's overly joyous."
"Security leak, where to find it…?" Pansy sang silently, starting to polish her nails.
"So, I want Harry back for these six days," Draco finished. "And I do not want my father or Voldemort –or your father, for that matter, Crabbe- to find about it."
"Like that's going to remain a secret, with our wonderful Vincent and Gregory…" Pansy hummed.
"You all know I am going to refer to this as my secret mission if any information comes out."
"That's good," Pansy agreed.
"Aye, sir," Montague continued, grinning wild. "Now what shall we do about Potter? Is he a wreck?"
"I think he's quite a wreck," Draco admitted, smirking devilishly. "But he can handle what ever comes from us. Now… Any suggestions?"
"You want to make him jealous by dating someone else?" Goyle said.
"As in dating you, is that it?" Draco sneered. "Ugh, no thanks. Besides, I think that would be childish."
"This whole thing is childish," muttered Blaise.
"You're not helping me out here, Bini," Draco huffed. "Tell me what I could do, to make him miserable."
"You could always use the Messenger Spell… but instead of the words, you could send him images," suggested Blaise.
"Images, such as you shagging him senseless," Pansy grinned.
"You girls are such perverted bitches that I…" Draco began, but then fell silent. A smirk was soon in its place. "Actually, that was not a bad idea."
That morning's breakfast was one of the most silent kinds. There were only about fifty students in the Great Hall, majority of them younger than fourteen. However, Harry Potter was sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table with Ronald Weasley, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, a determined expression on his face, eating chocolate pudding with bad appetite.
"So you are gay," Dean stated, staring at his spoon, as if willing it to bend for his amusement. "Well, that makes then two of us."
"What?" both Ron and Seamus whirled around to face Dean, and Harry's jaw dropped open.
"What?" Dean pouted. "I'd say I was bisexual, but after dealing with Lavender last night, I might as well say I lost my thing for girls entirely."
Harry couldn't help bursting out laughing, but Seamus and Ron were still too shocked to stop reminding wide-eyed statues.
"She was impossible," Dean admitted. "And I think I could try something new that has been on my mind since last autumn."
"Something new like gay sex?" ventured Harry.
Ron gagged and Seamus made an indescribable sound.
"Yeah, something like that," Dean smiled weakly. "I'd like to shag Malfoy. He's a real hottie."
Ron dropped off his bench, Seamus cried in dismay, and Harry's eyes narrowed in anger.
"Don't touch him," Harry snarled silently.
Dean was confused. "Why not?"
"Because he…" Harry stopped to think what to say. "Because he is too hot. You'd only burn your fingers."
"Speaking of the devil…" Seamus interrupted, and gestured towards the Great Hall doors.
Harry groaned when seeing a totally unruffled Draco Malfoy sail inside with Blaise, Pansy and Rodriquez, in pure white, lucid shirt and light blue trousers that licked his skin. Harry received none recognition whatsoever from him, and his heart swelled with both utter misery and lust. Forbidden fruit. That was what Draco was now to him. And oh, the thought drove Harry immediately irrational.
Harry wanted to bang his head on the table surface, but the fact that it was already aching with too much booze and crying from the previous night, made him rethink his decision.
"Too damn right, Harry," Dean said, his eyes bulging out of his head. "He really is too hot."
Harry just stared, in a state of shock. Now he was finally facing this in daylight. Draco was no more his secret –he was now his lost secret. But not forgotten. Not nearly. Greenhouse effect. Yes. The time for the greenhouse effect.
"Ron, would you please pour that gigantic dandelion juice canister on me?"
"Huh?" Ron looked baffled.
"Why?" Seamus wanted to know.
"Just bloody do as I tell you, and do not ask questions," Harry scowled at Ron. "Remember, you owe me. And if I wish you to pour that bloody juice all over me, you bloody well make sure you do it, or I hex you senseless, so bloody there."
Ron grabbed the canister quickly and rose up from his seat, in order to reach better above Harry's head. Ron coughed, then shrugged, and turned the juice can over.
Harry pretended to be very affronted, spluttering the dandelion liquid and batting his wet lashes. His hair fell in wet strands down his forehead and cheeks, and he knew that he looked very sexy. Harry looked at his light green shirt which was now nearly translucent with the wetness, and attached to his skin. He ripped the buttons open and frowned at his oh-so-wonderful abs. He ventured a glance at the Slytherin table, where a certain blonde seemed to choke in his respective glass of the aforementioned dandelion drink.
"Thanks a lot, Ron," Harry said, pouting.
He rose up, ripped his shirt completely off, looked dismayed, shook his soaking black locks and left the Great Hall, making a real scene.
Ron, Seamus and Dean rushed after him, all very confused.
"Bloody fucking hell, he did that on purpose!" Draco moaned.
No, Draco actually whimpered.
"No, he didn't, it was Ron who got pissed with him," Blaise reminded. "Harry clearly admonished him quite harshly just before he did what he did."
"Do you think Ron might have a thing about Harry?" Montague dared. "That sopping wet shirt of his…"
Draco's eyes widened with revulsion, "What?"
Pansy and Blaise giggled, and Montague grinned. "Just kidding."
"No!" Draco was still shocked. "You might have a point there! How horrendous!"
"Draco, calm down," Pansy tittered. "Remember, this should be your revenge, not his."
"What if Weasel has a thing about my Harry?" Draco said in half scream and half whisper. He was ashen.
"Draco," Blaise stopped laughing and glared. "Even if he did, I am sure Harry loves only you."
"You don't know that!" Draco whined. "I don't want revenge anymore! I want him back! Right fucking now!"
"No!" Montague groaned. "You are not going to forgive him that fast! You're going to be downright shitty, evil bastard towards him, until we say you can stop acting."
"Oh, I don't take orders from anyone," Draco mocked. "Not even the Dark Lord –yet."
"Then do as a favour. Let us tell you what to do these next twelve hours," Blaise suggested. "We know what is best for you."
"Yeah," Pansy chorused. "We love you, in a Slytherin sort of way, and want the best for you. So trust us."
"But what if Weasley…? I know Thomas looked at him with dilated eyes! Is Thomas gay?"
"Draco, you're being paranoid," Blaise said.
"Am not! What? Is Dean Thomas gay? What if he decides to hit on my Harry? Then what? Dean is not that ugly, you know! If not the Weasel, then why not Dean Thomas! I'm gonna kill that sodding Gryffidor! I'm gonna kill Harry if he dumps me for him! I…"
"DRACO!" yelled all Montague, Pansy and Blaise simultaneously.
"WHAT?" Draco panted. "WHAT?"
Montague hit him in the head. "Pull yourself together man!"
Pansy sighed, deep. "I guess we could finish this breakfast and go walking outside. It's not like any of us has gotten anything down, anyway."
Blaise agreed, and together with Montague, she lifted the protesting Draco out of his seat and pulled him towards the Hogwarts main entrance.
Harry, Dean, Ron and Seamus walked rapidly towards the Gryffindor tower, the latter two running after Harry and Dean.
"What the hell was that all about?" Seamus panted. "Ron?"
"Um… I just felt like… doing something stupid."
"Oh, really?" Dean scowled, "As if you hadn't done something stupid last night, already!"
Ron went red, and remained silent.
"Harry, are you alright?" Dean asked, catching the ebony-haired boy.
"Yes, Dean, I'm quite okay," a smile lingered on Harry's lips.
Dean smiled at him widely. "You know, I'm so happy that I could finally come out with my bisexuality. Nobody can tease me now, when the Boy-Who-Lived is also gay."
"Don't call me that," Harry warned, "And besides, me being gay is not known very widely yet."
"But it can't remain a secret, you know," Dean pointed out, "You're too popular."
"I know," Harry said, "But I don't care."
"I'm sorry for what Ron did to you. Can't you tell me who your boyfriend was?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Why would I tell you, if I can't even tell Ron and Hermione?"
"Because I'm not them," Dean suggested. "And since I am a fellow gay companion, I could help you to get him back."
Harry bit his lip, as if thinking about what Dean had just said. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw Ron and Seamus a few steps behind, chatting amicably together about something.
"Dean, if I tell you who it is, I want you to keep it to yourself," Harry finally said. "When the time is right, I want my other friends to hear it from myself, you know."
"Trust me," Dean laughed, "We've been both through Lavender and her wide mouth, so I think we've both sick of gossip."
"And you promise to help me?" Harry continued.
"I'll do whatever I can, mate," Dean said, and then chuckled, "Although that might break my heart. You're quite gorgeous, Harry, and I'd love to keep you myself!"
Harry choked. "Dean!"
"What? Don't tell me you haven't checked me out! I've seen you!"
Harry blushed. "Alright, let's drop the topic. You want to know who my boyfriend was?"
"I'm all ears!"
Harry leaned in to whisper, "The one who is too hot."
Dean's eyes went wide as Halloween pumpkins, and he mouthed the name, without any sound coming out. "Draco Malfoy!"
Harry nodded, smiling coyly.
"Oh my fucking shit!" Dean exclaimed, now in a whisper, very awed.
Harry glanced at Ron and Seamus, and was happy to find them far away. "Dean, keep it down, then."
"O-of course," Dean stammered. "But Harry… You and… and… Holy Raistlin!"
"Can you imagine how he reacted when he found out I had given a kiss to the Weasel?" Harry laughed, sadly. "I think I love him, Dean, and I want him back."
"But isn't he kind of… dangerous?" Dean hushed. "A Death Eater brat?"
"Yes," Harry said, "So?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "So I always knew you were a bit weird. But that's okay. I'll help you."
"Thanks mate," Harry patted Dean's back.
"And the first thing you do, is to get rid of those wet clothes," Dean continued, putting a finger over his lips, as if thinking hard. "I think I have some garments in my wardrobe that would fit you very well."
"As long as it isn't your pink thongs and the waitress suit," Harry giggled.
Dean blushed. "Um, no. I was thinking about that new army shirt, remember? The one which I bought a couple of weeks ago."
"Oh, that," Harry simpered. "I remember that alright!"
"Accio Sabre!"
Draco, Blaise, Montague and Pansy were sitting under a fat, serried oak nearby the lakeside, in the shadows of the long branches.
"Are you sure you want that sword right now, Draykie?" Pansy asked, massaging her temples with the hangover headache.
"It's a sabre, not a sword," Draco answered dryly. "And I need to practise some fencing. You never know when Boot or Weasley jump in my way, and I feel the need to split some hairs from their heads."
"Accio sword!" Montague raised his left hand. Pansy glared at him.
"What?" Blaise asked her. "Oh, come on girl, they won't kill each other."
"No, but I'm still afraid that they do. Especially Draco can get easily carried away."
"Ha bloody ha," Draco huffed.
The beautiful sabre of Malfoy family emerged in Draco's hand, and a couple of moments later, Montague was holding his respective weapon.
"Let's begin, Draco. You really need to let out some steam."
"Damn right."
The boys went bit further away from the girls, and artfully readied themselves for the match. It was a rather beautiful scene –the mist of the morning not yet wholly subdued, and the sunbeams stealing their way from behind the clouds to make everything bathe in a golden fog. The weapons gathered some moist in their surfaces, Draco's subtle hair curled a bit from the ends, and Montague's locks went ruffled. The air was very humid to breathe.
"It's going to be a very hot day," Pansy declared from her place, opening some buttons of her shirt.
Draco smirked, swung the sword a couple of times, and faced Rodriquez. As the silver, fortified with magic, clanged together with the steel, all the worries of the world seemed to fade away. The adrenaline rushed into the sword-fighters' ears, and the surrounding world disappeared.
Draco made a slow level Occlumency spell with his friend's brain, and answered Montague's strikes with closed eyes. He wanted to relax completely, fall in the rhythm of their movements, and think about everything that had happened during the rapid two weeks between him and Harry. Besides, now that he could anticipate Montague's moves, he would not be in danger to hurt his friend, like last time.
I wonder what could have happened last night if I would have forgiven Harry. He probably would have stayed, we could have had wild make-up sex, and he would be my completely submissive bitch today.
Draco opened his eyes halfway, seeing Montague smiling at him. Draco smiled back.
"So… Time to cast the first image, eh?"
Montague dodged Draco's strike. "Yeah. And make it very intense."
Draco concentrated, still fencing. The steady clashes of the swords made his mind work better, and he soon recollected some refreshing images from the past.
On the castle roof… Draco pinned Harry down against the stiles and flung the Gryffindor's legs over his shoulders. Harry was wriggling, but soon those whines were moans of elation… Heat of the movements… Draco was making Harry completely his own… Right that moment… Harry's nails scratching his back…
"Oh, FUCK!"
Harry was trembling, very pale in the face, sitting on his bed in the Gryffindor tower.
"What is it?" asked Dean, who was just rummaging through his wardrobe.
"I… I…" Harry stammered. There were pearls of cold sweat on his forehead, and tears were in danger to fill his eyes. "I just… remembered something wonderful."
Seamus and Ron took careful glances at him. "Something wonderful shouldn't make you cry."
"It was… It was him," Harry sighed. "I really miss him."
Silver-grey eyes penetrating in his soul… His body receiving another one, completely, irrevocably…
"Oh, Merlin… I can't… Oh…" Harry began to sob uncontrollably, and covered his eyes with his hands. His whole chest was aching with misery and longing.
Ron looked difficult, Dean angry, and Seamus went to hug Harry.
"Come on… You'll get over it soon."
"I don't w-want to get over h-him," Harry wept. "I love him!"
"Why can't you tell us who he is," Seamus asked, gently. "I'm sure it wouldn't hurt anyone."
"I… I just can't, okay. Not yet."
"Okay, boys!" Dean interrupted, sounding both determined and amused. "Time for you to change style, Harry! Get up and drag your pretty ass here!"
Seamus and Ron helped the still-crying Harry up, and shoved him in front of Seamus.
"Now get in there," the Irish boy gestured towards a little corner he had covered with curtains. "And try these on."
It feels good, doesn't it, Harry… Having me inside you… Feel it… Remember it… Ta…
Harry's hair stood up with fright, and he hastily grabbed the pile of garments that Dean had chosen for him.
"Thanks, Dean, I'll be ready in no time. And Ron, go and see if you can find Colin Creevey, after we're done here."
Harry disappeared behind the curtains, leaving three baffled friends staring at each other in confusion. Ron shook his head, wondering why on earth would Harry voluntarily want to see Colin Creevey. But these thoughts were interrupted, when after a few minutes an annoyed outcry was heard from the corner.
"Dean, this is absolutely too sexy!"
It was Harry, moaning with discomfiture. He was wearing Dean's army tank top, taut copper-brown army trousers and Hawaiian-style cord sandals.
"No it's not," Dean protested. "You look just good."
"He looks like a bloody philanderer," Ron commented.
Harry scowled. "I think I should have a jacket over this top…"
"No," Dean was stern, "Remember who you are going to impress."
Seamus and Ron both snapped into attention. "You know who his boyfriend is? Er, was?" Ron asked, disbelievingly.
"Sure," Dean smirked. "Don't you?"
"No!" Seamus jumped up and went to Dean, "Who the hell is he?"
"Can't tell you. Sorry."
Harry went by the window, chuckling at himself. The situation was very comic, and he wondered silently how it had ever gotten there. How it was possible that all the Slytherins and many of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs knew the name of his lover, and yet nobody had leaked the truth out to all and sundry. Here he was, surrounded by Gryffindors, and only Dean Thomas of all Gryffindor people knew what was going on.
"It's going to be a hot day," Seamus said, after finishing the playful pummelling of the impious Dean Thomas. "We could go for a swim."
"Yeah, that would be nice," Ron agreed. "I'll just go and tell Hermione, and ask if she wants to join."
"Alright," Harry smiled, "She's in the fifth floor broom shed with Ginny, according to the Marauders."
Ron paled and dashed off, Harry, Seamus and Dean's laughter escorting his way.
"And don't forget to find Colin for me!" Harry shouted after him.
"Come on, let's go without Ron," Dean giggled. "Grab your swimming trunks, boys… We're going to challenge the Squid itself!"
"But I just got these fancy clothes on," Harry complained. "Am I going to strip them down immediately?"
"Seeing as we have a very interesting audience at the beach…" Dean whispered, "… I wouldn't say it was for the worst."
Harry glanced out of the window and sharpened his gaze towards the lake. A frost-white hair glimmered in the sunshine far below him.
"Let's hurry!"
Draco and Montague were both excellent fencers. Their match was beautiful to look at –they were like two dancing drows from the world of the foulest but fairest dark elves, but so innocent and free of violence that it would have certainly made Voldemort vomit. Even Pansy succeeded to calm herself down, when seeing that her friends were not actually trying to hurt each other. And what that sight was doing to Harry –there was no question in his pants.
"Don't look that way," Dean poked him in the ribs. "Don't be so obvious."
Seamus had already run to the beach, now paddling in the shallow water. "Come on, guys! The last in the water is Filch's cat!"
Harry and Dean continued their way, Harry shuddering inwardly every time he heard the sabre and the sword clash together. He had great difficulties not to watch the scene. Only the one short moment he had seen Draco's swirling movements had left him hot and bothered. And also very pissed, because he couldn't' get a relief later on.
"Strip," Dean commanded. "He has his face towards us now."
Seamus was splashing water all over them. "Hurry up!"
Harry grinned, and slowly began to draw the tank top over his head. And indeed, when he had it almost off, he heard a cry of pain from the other side of the beach.
"Bloody hell, Draco, you nearly cut my arm off!"
Obviously it was Montague, who had been the victim of Draco's distracted attention. Harry grinned, hoping Rodriquez was fine, and began to open his trousers, making it painfully slowly.
Dean grinned at him. "It is working. He stares at you like there was no other in the world. Want to make him a bit jealous?"
Harry chuckled lightly, letting the army canvas slide down his legs, revealing his swimming trunks. "As in, we could pretend having very fun together?"
"Suspiciously fun," Dean laughed, and wriggled his brows.
"But then he thinks I'm a slut," Harry protested, "And won't have me back."
"Damn, Harry, I didn't mean we make out or anything!" Dean hushed, so that Seamus couldn't hear. "It's this way. You act like you're miserable and want to die, and I try to catch your attention. That should make Draco angry with me and compassionate with you."
"Come on already, guys!" Seamus was shouting from the lake.
"We're coming," Dean answered, and narrowed his eyes at Harry, smiling. "Now. Act."
Immediately, Harry turned to look at the fencers, who were no longer fencing. Harry caught Draco's eye for a split second, then hung his head remorsefully and slumped his shoulders. Dean came immediately to him and began to drag him in the water. The scene was perfect to make anybody laugh.
"He's casting daggers at me right now," Dean informed Harry as he pulled the raven-haired boy from the elbow. "And clearly Montague is trying to make him sensible."
Harry smiled at Dean. "You're mean, did you know that?"
"Oh, I'm just me," Dean laughed. "And now, can I ask you to do me a favour?"
"And what is that?"
"Help me to get together with Ron."
"WHAT?"
Dean scowled, and dived. Harry followed his example, and soon they were many meters from the beach, a cooling water surrounding their bodies.
"I want Ron," Dean repeated. Now also Seamus heard the topic.
"WHAT?" the Irish boy spluttered, "This is plain absurdity."
"What's wrong with that arrangement? If Hermione is with Ginny, then Ron should be free soon enough and…"
"You are mad," Seamus huffed. "Ron isn't even gay!"
"He kissed Harry," Dean protested, "He might be bisexual."
Harry had long ago started laughing his ass off. He just couldn't imagine his life going any crazier than what it was right now.
"He's laughing with them," Draco whined. "He's laughing, probably at me, and with that Thomas guy. I hate Thomas!"
"Draco, for Morgan's sake…!" Montague shook the blonde from the shoulders.
"Look at my Harry! He's probably the most gorgeous thing I've seen! Look at the muscles on his back! And did you see his ass? I could kill for that ass."
"You almost did," Montague frowned, pointing out his bleeding arm.
"Oh, um… I apologize. Did I hurt you much?" Draco asked, embarrassed.
"No, it's just a shallow cut, and that was really Potter's fault, not yours. Nobody ever asked him to strip in public places," Montague consoled.
"Except that Thomas boy," Draco seethed. "Look at him now! He's talking with Harry!"
"Of course he is talking with Harry, they are friends!" Montague sighed.
"He is flirting with Harry!" Draco screamed, silently.
Blaise emerged by Draco's side. "Again, this should be your revenge day, not Harry's."
"Cast him another thought," Pansy grabbed Draco's arm and led him to sit under the oak. "Cast him a very loving thought."
"A loving thought?" Draco mumbled. "A loving thought?"
"Yeah, you know, like… something nice, but not including sex," Montague advised.
Draco furrowed his brows and began to fidget with his hands. "Okay…"
A loving thought… Starry night, empty corridors… The first time I told you that I found you attractive… The scared look in your eyes… You were so beautiful. You are still so very beautiful… Can you see yourself, Harry? Can you see yourself with my eyes, Harry?
Draco looked at Harry, who was swimming with Dean and Seamus. The moment his thoughts entered Harry's head, the Gryffindor turned around to look at him in the eye, crying.
Draco looked away, satisfied, but also wanting to cry. Blaise wrapped her arms tightly around him, speaking calming words to him, and protected him against the unwanted reactions of weakness. Montague purposefully glared at Harry, and the Gryffindor dived underwater.
"Look, Draco, you've got mail," Pansy noticed. "It's Malum."
Draco sniffled down his tears before they made his eyes red. "Malum?"
The black, shining and enormous eagle found its usual place on Draco's bent knees.
"It's my father," Draco explained, and detached the letter. "Malum, you'll find some goodies in the open pouch on my bed in the dungeons."
The eagle left, slapping its black soft wings against Draco's face before rising in the air.
The letter from Lucius Malfoy was short, as always.
Draco,
How is everything going? I hope to hear from you tonight.
Your mother sends her love, as does your sister.
Lucius
Narcissa
H Ai l i e
Draco smiled at the uncertain scribbles of his sister. Clearly Hailie, although being just two years old, had received lessons in writing already. Just like he had, at that age.
Reading the letter again, Draco felt a tight knot in his stomach. His father was asking him if Harry was already distracted. And he really didn't know what to say. Of course Harry was distracted, but in what way, that was yet a question that haunted Draco. Was he even more aggressive and powerful than normally, or was he a weak wreck? Certainly he was hotter than ever. Turning over the piece of parchment, Draco wrote the answer to his family.
Father, Mother, Hailie,
Everything is going according to the plan.
Draco
That Saturday was the longest in Harry's memory. And it was also the most depressed one. As if he wouldn't think of Draco twenty-four-seven in the first place, there was the additional and mystical feeling of presence every half an hour, wrapping him into memories of their past. Telling him to remember, to feel, to know… Telling him how it all could be, if not his stupid mistake. Like with magic, Harry was drawn into scenes of utmost pleasure, wild sex, sweet secretive smiles and dreamy touches.
It was now eight in the evening, and Harry had not eaten anything. He had not seen Draco after the swimming tour in the morning, and it made him very, very frustrated. Thus, he was angry, hungry and very flammable, and his mind was working overtime to come up with some seductive prank to Draco.
Feel the kiss… My tongue entwining with yours… See us together… A flash of Draco kissing him went across his vision.
"That's it!" he yelled. "I've had enough!"
Hermione and Ginny, who had been sitting with him in the common room, jumped slightly from their seats.
"Mione, where's Ron?"
"Eh…" Hermione blushed. "I really don't know. He… He and I… We're not together anymore."
"Oh, I know," Harry nonchalantly waved his hand, "But I still can ask, now can't I?"
"Well, he went to look for Colin Creevey," Ginny answered, smoothing Hermione's hand. "He said you asked him to."
"Yes, I did," Harry admitted. "And I'm glad he remembered."
Right then, both Colin and Ron came through the Fat Lady's portrait, and Harry excused himself. For the first time in his life, he was eager to see Colin.
"Gosh, Harry!" Colin exclaimed, enthusiastically, when Harry approached. "I am so flattered!"
Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry guffawed. "Yeah, whatever."
"Ron said you need me to do you a favour," Colin continued, "And I assure you, I'm most willing to help! Wait until Dennis hears about this, he won't believe his ears…"
"Colin, where do you develop your photographs? The moving ones?" Harry asked, impatiently.
"In the dungeons, there's this one room where Snape never goes, McGonagall gave the key to me, she thinks I'm a good photographer, you know, and I think she's real nice. I…"
"Can you copy a picture that has already been taken? A moving picture?"
"Sure I can! I'm an expert for a reason, you know! It's actually quite easy. You just need to…"
"Ron, excuse us, please," Harry said, rather bluntly.
Ron's expression went first angry and then confusedly sad, and he went away, hanging his head.
"He's taking his break-up with Hermione rather harshly," Colin told.
"Yeah," Harry said, but not interested enough to care about that right now. "Let's go to that dungeon room, shall we? I have this one picture I need to copy for someone…"
Dungeons. Slytherins. Fading hangovers. A pile of teenage magazines and trash magazines such as Witch Weekly and The Quibbler, and several cans of hot chocolate. Draco frowned, and tossed aside the glossy magazine 'Transguration Today' that Pansy had made him read.
"This pretending is very tiresome. I'd rather have a good fuck right now."
"No! You're not going to forgive him so easily," Blaise's features melted into a frown. "He hurt you, and he must pay."
"I'm touched of your worry for me, Bini, but don't you think this is a bit childish?" Draco smiled. "I mean, I already have forgiven him. So why can't I let him know?"
"Because," said Pansy.
"Because what?" Draco asked.
"Just because," Pansy turned a page of her magazine.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly, girls…"
"Just allow him to fix his relationships with the Mud-blood and the Weasel before you make your next move," advised Montague. "I heard they have split."
"I don't care if he hates his friends, as long as he loves me," Draco pouted.
"But he won't be happy without the support of his friends, Draco," Montague continued.
"His friends would never support us, Rod. Not when it's me in question."
Rodriquez Montague bit his lip in contemplation. "Yes… You might be right."
"Besides, I don't want to waste any energy to those dimwits. I have much more to worry about at home. Like my father, and the Dark Lord. How the fuck am I going to handle them? Do you think I should betray Harry to them?"
"Of course not," Blaise huffed, "That madman's not worthy of either of you."
Draco quirked his brow, "What do you mean?"
Blaise poked Pansy in the ribs, and the blonde girl put her magazine away. Then she gestured Millicent, Mary-Ann and Tracey come closer, as well.
"We girls have been thinking," Blaise smirked, "That maybe you should not become a Death Eater after all, Draco."
Draco stared his friends in shock. "What the fuck?"
"The Dark Lord is just a joke," Tracey said, "Everybody knows that Potter's going to beat him one day. Nobody actually believes in Voldemort's victory, not even in the Slytherin house."
"Your father does," Draco pointed out.
"But my father's an old senile idiot," Tracey grinned. "He's blind. He can't see how useless it is to support a seventy-five years old, cracked imbecile."
"Yes," Mary-Ann put in, "Besides, we youngsters have been able to see Potter's development year after year, whereas our parents don't even believe in his skills to cast a Patronus. We know he's powerful, even though our parents do not."
"Actually, my mom told me Bellatrix thinks Potter survived from the Ministry incident with a mere luck and the fact that Dumbledore interfered. Bella just won't accept that Harry is actually clever."
Draco didn't know what to say.
"You're so cute when you're baffled, Draco," Millicent laughed.
Draco snapped out of his daze. "I am not cute!"
"Are too! You're the cutest and sexiest guy in the world!" Blaise giggled.
"Well," Draco smiled slyly, "Why can't I just go then, and use my charms on my boyfriend?"
"Because!" Pansy yelled. "And we haven't finished yet."
"We haven't?" Draco looked pleadingly at the ceiling.
Montague kicked his armchair. "You don't fool us, Draco. We know you're interested in what we have to say."
"You too, Rodriquez?" Draco faked despair. "Seriously, what has gotten into you all?"
"Let's just say this. When we saw the chemistry between you and Harry, we decided to help your relationship the best we can. Obviously, you and Harry are both very promising young wizards, with your personal and magical influences. You are both going to be something great one day. Not like our parents, who follow someone's lead like obedient puppets –but you and Harry are going to be the very leaders, and others will follow you. And that will be not out of fear –that will be out of respect and love."
Draco blinked. "Wow, Montague. That was something. I never knew you were a poet."
"I'm not a poet –I'm just voicing what we all think is true."
Blaise nestled in Draco's lap, however careful not to crumple his trousers and shirt. "So what do you think? Want a plan to destroy the Dark Lord and take his place with Harry, baby?"
Draco couldn't but laugh. "Yeah, why not… But I tell you, my father's gonna be really angry."
Pansy giggled. "But he doesn't have to know, now does he?"
"Not yet anyway," grinned Draco. Oh, what the hell. This might be fun. "But, I must tease Potter a bit more, first."
Everybody grinned, except Montague glared. "I know," he said, "I guess it's inevitable. He needs to suffer a bit. Damn we're in Slytherin, would be so much easier to forgive if we were Hufflepuffs."
"Don't even go there!" Draco gasped. "Hufflepuffs?"
Suddenly, there was a loud crash that came from the direction of the sixth year boys' dormitory.
"Hey, what was that?" Goyle gulped.
"It was just Nocens," Draco drawled. "He probably brought a message back from my father already."
Draco lazily made his way to his bedroom. But when he opened the door and looked over at his bed, there was no grey eagle sitting there. Instead, there was the most beautiful snowy owl Draco had ever seen.
"Hedwig, you sufferable, jealous bitch."
The owl hooted in a snorting way, and proudly raised its leg, where a large envelope was attached.
"What is this?" Draco asked, and smoothed Hedwig's feathers, despite the glares of the bird. "Is it from Harry?"
Carefully, Draco opened the cover and pulled out a photograph. A moving photograph.
"Oh, shit…"
A message was written behind it.
This is what you get when you play with me.
Either this little piece of paper –or the real thing, depending on how you play.
Harry
A/N: I will yield to your requests. The next chapter shall contain something like make-up sex. *mad grin*