A/N: Thank you LadyVader for correcting some embarrassing grammar mistakes in this chapter.
24. Humbled In Your Grace
Draco couldn't understand how the only little window in his dormitory could suck in so much light that it hurt his eyes. But then again, he had been sleeping very badly, and –heaven forbid! –even crying a little. And now, when it was eight thirty on Sunday morning, he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, doing the same thing than just three hours ago –staring at the picture Harry had sent him.
The picture was not new. He had seen it before –it was the one taken on Halloween. The one where Harry was kissing him for the first time.
In all its simplicity, it was a horrible reminder.
"The games we play…" he muttered, turning the picture over and reading Harry's message again. "Yes… I must admit I'd prefer the real thing, although this is a lovely picture… You know me too well, damn it, Potter!"
Draco smoothed the picture-Harry's cheek with his thumb, and smiled.
"I don't know what the hell is drawing me to you, but I guess it has something to do with your personality. You don't fear me, you don't respect me, you don't share my views, you have no reason to trust me and you don't fucking even like everything about me –and yet you say you love me. Damn you're off your rocker. Hmmm… But I guess that's exactly what I like about you. The insanity in you."
Draco grinned, and gave the picture-Harry a fond kiss.
He could have sworn that the picture-Draco looked murderously at him, afterwards.
**
Harry was very nervous. He'd had nightmares the whole night, such as Draco ripping his heart out, then throwing it back to his face and telling him he didn't want it anymore. The echo of 'I don't want it' was still running through his head. There were nasty blue marks under Harry's eyes, thanks to too little food and bad sleep, and his whole appearance was getting very dishevelled, since he didn't want to get up from the bed and take a good shower.
The things were not getting any better when seeing his friend Ronald Weasley sitting by the window, now for the third hour in a row. The red hair was greasy, the freckles emphasized from crying, and his clothes were the same he had been wearing the day before. Harry doubted Ron had bothered to change into pajamas at all for the night.
Guilet started building up in the large Gryffindor heart of Harry. He looked at his friend's miserable and fucked-up form, knowing he looked exactly the same himself, and wondered what had ever gone wrong during these last weeks of uproar.
"Ron," Harry said, silently. "Come and sit here, on my bed. I want to tell you something."
Ron shrugged, but didn't move from his spot. "I'm too tired to move."
"I'm really sorry for you and Hermione," Harry sighed. "I mean… Now that I know what breaking up with someone feels like, I should have been more considerate towards you yesterday. But I was a totally selfish bastard, thinking only of my own bleeding heart. I am really sorry."
Ron turned his head, and gave Harry a faint smile. "I'm sorry too. Guess the things aren't working that well for either of us, eh?"
"Guess so," Harry smiled back, resting his head deeper into the pillow.
"So… How are you feeling now? Angry? Sad?" Ron asked.
"No… I'd say I'm feeling rather… impatient."
"Impatient for what?"
"I am waiting for his next move," Harry explained. "But let's not talk about him. I want to know what went wrong with you and Mione. If that's not something you'd rather be silent about."
"No, it's okay… I think," Ron inhaled, sorrowfully. "It's just that I don't know whether to be angry or sad or both. You know, you can't actually hate your own sister, even though she was the one who stole away your girl."
"Must be very confusing, huh?" Harry shook his head. "This whole year has been very crazy."
"Tell me about it," Ron muttered.
"So… Do you think you're over Hermione enough to start dating someone else?" Harry inquired, looking a bit hesitant.
"As if there was someone else," Ron laughed, mockingly.
"There is… but he is a guy," Harry said, tentatively. "Not me, though, but someone you know nearly as well."
"A guy?" Ron gaped. "A guy interested in me? You're not being serious."
"Oh, but I am," Harry chuckled. "There's just that we don't know if you're completely straight, or rather bisexual."
"Harry, what an awful topic to talk about this early in the morning," Ron cried. "Thank your lucky stars that Dean and Seamus are already up in the common room –doing God knows what; it's not bloody six yet."
"But I'm still here," peeped Neville from behind his bed-hangings. "So could you please talk a bit more silently? I'm still trying to sleep."
"Sorry Nev," Harry smiled, "I promise we'll not disturb you anymore."
With these words, Harry cast a Silencing Charm around him and Ron. Ron crawled by Harry's bed, kneeling on the floor, and resting his elbows at Harry's mattress.
"So, who is it?"
"I'm not telling, remember," Harry scowled.
"No, I mean, who is it that is interested in me," Ron corrected.
Harry actually smirked. "If I tell you, you have to promise me to go at least on one date with him."
"What? No way!" Ron pulled a face.
"Ron, twenty-four hours isn't yet over. You still must obey my every wish, remember? And I order you –when I tell you his name, you will go on a date with him. Just a date, Ron. I'm not asking you to jump between his sheets right away."
"But I'm not even gay!"
"Sure you're not," Harry said, eyes twinkling. "But there's nothing wrong in experimenting, now is there?"
"So who is he? Tell me he isn't Crabbe or Goyle! Or either of the Creeveys!"
"It's actually Dean," Harry grinned.
"Dean?" Ron gasped. "Our Dean?"
"Why are you so surprised?" Harry raised his brows. "He told you he was gay yesterday, at breakfast."
"But I thought he also said he wanted to shag Malfoy," Ron pointed out, looking halfway disgusted.
"What's wrong in fantasizing about Malfoy?" Harry felt a stab of anger go through his chest. "You cannot possibly say he isn't gorgeous. Evil, yes –but also gorgeous."
"Um… er… Well… I guess he's a bit too blonde to my taste, but otherwise… He's the most popular bloke among the girls in this school, so how could I actually disagree."
"Good. Now let's get back to the main topic… Dean Thomas."
**
It was ten to eleven that Sunday when Draco decided to leave his dormitory room and enter the common Slytherin area. So much had been going on in his mind that he actually longed for some distracting company now.
"Morning, Draco," Blaise said softly, when seeing Draco dragging himself towards the leather couches in front of the fire. "How was your night?"
"Terrible," Draco grunted.
"You look terrible," Warrington pointed out, "That is, compared to your usual self."
"Thanks a lot," another dull grunt came from the blonde's direction.
"There's a note on the billboard from Snape. Well, there's the original note from Dumbledore, and then an additional one from Snape," Pansy said. "We're having a picnic today."
"Picnic?" Draco pulled a revolted face. "Picnic! Whose sick idea is that?"
"Here, read the notes," Warrington went to rip them off the board and tossed them in Draco's lap. "That one written in red ink is from the Headmaster, and the other, with lots of swearwords I might add, is from Severus."
"…hereby invite every student of this school… blah…blah… a picnic by the eastern lakeside at three o'clock p.m. … blah… house-elves will provide the food… gathering in groups in accordance with classes…" Draco read. "This is ridiculous."
"Read what Snape says," Montague laughed.
"...the one sodding soul, who emerges at the beach wearing a sun cap or a bonnet, let alone a frilly sunshade, gets two weeks detention…" Draco laughed, "...It is bloody November, and even if it was not, the picnics should be denied by wizarding law... this bloody school is rotting in its place, a picnic, bloody hell... This freak show known as the staff of this school, excluding me of course, should have their brains inspected..."
"Snape didn't warm up to the idea," Pansy grinned sweetly.
"Guess not," Draco smiled at her. "Is this damned gathering obligatory?"
"Spect it is," Pansy shrugged, "Dumbledore's 'wishes' are often indirect commands."
"Hrmph," Draco grunted, and conjured himself a cup of tea. "Wonder what's behind this stupid idea? Is Dumbledore trying to cheer us up or something?"
"Guess he's worried about the Dark Lord's actions," Montague muttered. "My father just wrote me. There's been some growth in the ranks of the dark army. And some movement, too. I hear that some Dementors have left the Cuillin ridge yesterday night."
"They have?" Warrington raised a brow. "I thought it wasn't going to happen until Wednesday."
"Well, something made Mr. Lucius Malfoy change the plan," Montague explained. "But let's not worry about it. It's not like they'd come and suck out our souls. I think that the picnic is more worth worrying about right now."
**
Harry was reading the announcement on the Gryffindor common room billboard. It said there would be a picnic at three o'clock p.m. today. Sharpening his eyes suspiciously, he wondered out loud what could be the reason behind the event.
"Why it is that everybody hesitates to follow Dumbledore's whims nowadays?" asked Hermione behind them. "It's not like his ideas seemed that terrible, before."
"Yes, but you haven't heard what Remus wrote to Harry yesterday," Ron pointed out, looking superior. The redhead hadn't really gotten over with his break-up with Hermione, yet, and tried to act as cool as possible. "The Dark Lord's troops are getting impatient. I think this is just a plan to keep us students cheerful, although the danger is coming."
"What a bunch of bullshit," Ginny snapped. "Hermione's right –what's wrong with an innocent picnic? I get the chance to use my new yellow bonnet and the maroon autumn gown."
Ron glared at his little sister, who had stolen his girlfriend. But, he had no courage to say anything insulting back, even though his mind was whirling.
"Let's go," Dean muttered, "The girls obviously find this picnic very cool, or something. Did you hear how Lavender reacted?"
"Thank Caramon, no, I did not!" Ron sighed, smiling. Then he flushed, realizing to whom he was speaking to. Was his roommate really interested in him?
"You're absolutely right, guys," Harry said. "We might as well spend these remaining three hours doing something else than listening to some enthusiastic blabber about new winter robes and silk scarfs…"
"Hey!" Ginny slapped Harry gently in the head. "Watch your mouth, Harry, or I might make you wear one of my dresses."
"He'd like that," Dean giggled. "And I bet his boyfriend would be wordless with lust, too!"
Harry looked pale with horror. "Don't even go there. He'd kill me if I'd embarrass myself like that!"
"So who is he?" Ginny asked, about the thousandth time.
"Who was he," Ron corrected, looking slightly beaten. "Don't forget I spoiled it all."
Ginny flushed, but still gazed inquiringly at Harry.
"I'm not saying," Harry spread his hands in frustration. "Not until I get him back, okay?"
"You promise to tell us when you get him back?" Hermione looked stern. "You know, I'm a bit worried about this all. Obviously he's not doing you good. You've become rather a rascal after you met him."
"Rascal?" Harry asked, quirked his brows. "What do you mean, rascal? I've always been rather wild, how can you say that…?"
"You've become more like… well… more dark," Hermione explained. "More like an evil rascal."
"So he is someone from Slytherin!" Ron's face lightened up. "Let me see… Crabbe… Goyle…"
"Oh, Merlin, Ron!" Ginny shouted, "Shut up! As if Harry would look at any of them!"
"I think I could play a good match of chess. You up to it, Ron?" Dean suggested the Weasley boy, and began to lead him away. "Those girls are in a rather aggressive mood today, wouldn't mind keeping the distance…"
Harry smiled thankfully at Dean. Then he found himself ambushed by both Ginny and Hermione, and began to fidget the collar of his black shirt nervously. "Er, girls…?"
"So, it is someone from Slytherin, isn't it?" Hermione smirked. "I know it! It's the way how you looked when Ron started to mention those names!"
"Um…"
"But it can't be Crabbe or Goyle," Hermione continued, and Ginny nodded in agreement, looking thoughtful. "So it must be someone we don't know so well, like… Like Montague! He's quite a hottie! And I hear he's gay, too."
"But he's with Etre," Harry protested, and then slammed a hand across his mouth. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
It was namely a secret from the Original Sin, and the rules were quite clear. Nobody talked about those happenings, not later, not ever.
"Hmm, is he really?" Ginny looked devilish. She and Hermione sent sparkles at one another, and then turned to harass Harry in unison.
"Warrington? Bole? Baddock? Nott?" the girls were giggling. "SNAPE?"
"Oh, gods, NO!" Harry looked revolted. "You are going to stop this RIGHT NOW, or I'm going to vomit all over you."
Hermione and Ginny collapsed in fits of laughter in each other's arms.
"Have a good day, you too," Harry cried out, half amused, half annoyed, and stalked off towards his dormitory room.
**
Cool breeze was waving the beautiful, silvery locks of Draco Malfoy, as he proceeded with his classmates towards the beach. He smirked, noticing Ginny Weasley struggle with a wide bonnet that the wind was trying to steal. He smirked even more, noticing how uncomfortable both Hermione Granger and Parvati Patil were with their billowing autumn dresses, the hems tangling with their feet in the middle of the harsh blows. Ronald Weasley was sitting on a large patchwork quilt next to Dean Thomas, who was offering the redhead some butterbeer, trying to make him smile. Seamus and Lavender were talking together at the waterline, Lavender taking some dancing steps like mimicking some bloody fairy. Neville Longbottom was trying his best not to steal the strawberries from the top of the pie that lay dangerously close to him.
Draco frowned at the sight, thinking it disgustingly sweet and normal. That is, until he saw Harry Potter stroll towards the Gryffindor crowd from the direction of the lake, his jeans halfway wet with wading in the low water. The breath caught in Draco's throat.
"What is it with Harry and wet clothes," Blaise sniggered, noticing Draco's expression and Harry's condition. "He has you around his little finger, Draco. He knows exactly what to do to make you look like that –do close your mouth, baby, it doesn't become you open."
"What's he doing in the water, anyway?" Pansy asked, nudging Draco's mandible upwards, helping the blonde boy close his mouth. "Looks like he's carrying something."
The Slytherins watched as Harry made his way back to the patchwork quilt, kneeling next to Dean, and dropping some beautiful ink-black and snow-white pebbles before him.
"Nah, it's just Ronald Weasley who wants to play chess, even outside, on a day like this," Tracey huffed. "That bloody Weasel is a mess, honestly. Chess, for crying out loud!"
Pansy and Blaise laughed, and Draco pulled out a cigarette box from his robes. "Want some?"
The girls accepted, and soon the four of them were enjoying cherry-flavoured weeds. Draco blew a ringlet of silver smoke in the air, and returned his gaze on Harry. The green eyes were staring right back at him, and he smirked. Harry smirked back, a very evil glint in his eyes.
"Damn he's unbelievable," Draco muttered, lips curling into a lopsided smile.
Blaise wrapped arms around Draco's waist, careful not to burn his sleeve with the cigarette. "Draco. Don't. Do. Anything. Stupid."
"Stupid? Me?" Draco raised brows and laughed. "I don't think so."
"You need to be cold towards him," reminded Tracey, "Ignorant and cold."
"I am cold towards him."
"Ha! As if!" Pansy rolled her eyes. "The only thing cold here is the weather."
"So," Blaise smiled, and took Draco's arm, pulling him forwards. "Let's join Crabbe and Goyle and get some butterbeer from their basket, before there's nothing left of it."
Draco grinned, following his best friend. "You know, Bini, I think this picnic isn't such a bad idea after all. It's a rather enjoyable view, from our spot there."
"Yeah, right at Potter and his buddies," giggled Mary-Ann. She had just emerged from somewhere in the direction of the seventh year Slytherins, and hooked Draco's other arm with her own.
"Watch my cigarette," Draco smiled.
"Montague sends a word," Mary-Ann smirked. "You're free to advance him after this squalid outing event. We think it's been long enough."
"Thank Merlin!" Draco rolled his eyes. "I thought you might get sadistic and all that, like usually..."
"Hey!" Mary-Ann poked him in the abs, pouting playfully.
Draco and the girls seated themselves on the green, silken Slytherin quilt. It was large enough for at least twenty people, but they were just the nine of them, the sixth years. Crabbe and Goyle, admittedly, booked one third of the bedding, but it was still comfortable enough for Draco to get his personal space secured, and some butterbeer bottles opened nearby. Mary-Ann opened the cork from a little dragon blood vial she'd gotten from Montague, and slipped some red liquid in their bottles. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the grass was green, the wind was cooling and the view of Harry's arse was magnificent –in short, the life was beaming for Draco.
"So," started Blaise, fixing her eyes keenly on Draco. "Now that we're all gathered here like this, maybe we should think of a plan how you could avoid betraying Harry to Voldie."
"Hmmhh..." Draco mumbled, and extinguished his cigarette in the smooth sand. "Maybe."
"Well good, because Gregory and I have got a plan," interrupted Vincent Crabbe. "We have been thinking about that... that... what was it, Greg?"
"Um... The... The B-banishing Charm?"
"Yes, that," Vincent smiled, goofily. "The Banishing Charm. The one you explained to us in the library, Draco!"
Draco flushed, one certain blow-job vividly emblazoned in his mind's eye. Yet, he was impressed that his sidekicks were capable of any thinking at all. "What about it, then?"
"Well, we could, ah, well... You said it was powerful enough to send a person to another place," Gregory said.
"Yeah, like... like Africa," Vincent chorused. "Think how cool it would be to send the Dark Lord to Africa, away from our lives."
Pansy burst out in wild giggles, followed closely by Blaise, Theodore, Tracey, Millicent and Mary-Ann.
"Africa! Oh... Dear, dear Vincent, but what if Voldie takes a plane and comes back to England? Then what?" Pansy choked amidst her mirth.
"Voldie, taking a plane?" now it was Draco's turn to break into laughter. "That Muggle flying machine?"
"Oh, uh, my tummy hurts..." Mary-Ann howled with hilarity. "Imagine that scene, guys! Voldie taking a plane, coming all tanned back from Africa, wearing, heaven forbid, a loin cloth!"
Everybody laughed at the expense of the Dark Lord, who was still in the pathetic belief of being their leader. And, amidst his chuckles, Draco noticed a very aggravated pair of green eyes, staring jealously at his direction. Good, I'm making Potter envious only by laughing with my friends... Oh, this is priceless...
"Actually, the Banishing Charm isn't such a bad idea," Draco forced himself to not laugh. "If only we could send the Dark Lord straight to hell. From there, he couldn't catch a plane and come back."
Gradually, his words absorbed into the giggling group, and the overly joyous atmosphere turned severe. Blaise's eyes went wide, and Pansy looked serious. Goyle and Crabbe were looking smug, and Tracey needed a long swig from her spiked butterbeer bottle.
"To hell?" Millicent asked. "That's a brilliant plan, Sir Draque."
Draco shrugged. "Of course it's a brilliant plan."
Crabbe and Goyle looked even smugger, if possible. It was, after all, the first time they'd come up with something reasonable.
"And how, exactly, are we going to cast a Banishing Charm on our dear old overly-powerful Voldie?" Pansy asked hesitantly.
Everybody was silent for a while, thinking hard. Yet, nobody said anything, even after three minutes of complete silence. The plan, after all, seemed impossible.
"Why, where does this desolate atmosphere come from?" asked a sour voice above their heads. It was Professor Snape, a sneer plastered over his features, as usual. "I take it isn't possibly because of this lovely picnic we're having here?"
"Sir?" Mary-Ann asked. "We were just thinking... How do you cast a Banishing Charm on a person?"
Snape looked surprised. "I am sure Mr. Malfoy can answer that."
"Of course I know how it's done technically," Draco drawled. "But we were merely thinking of how to fool the victim so that they would fall into the trap."
"And who, if I may ask, this mysterious person might be?" Snape inquired. "Potter, I do hope? Or better yet, that Weasley boy?"
"Um, actually, we'd rather not tell you, sir," Blaise muttered, batting her lashes apologetically, which she knew Snape always bought. "But imagine if it was someone like... like... well... Dumbledore."
"Dumbledore? You plan to hex Dumbledore?" Snape let out a dry laugh.
"No," Draco looked bored. "But someone who might be as powerful as he is."
"Well," Snape pushed a hand through his greasy locks, looking bored, too. "I think the best way to cast a Banishing Spell at someone is either make the person step into the runic circle, or throw the runic portkey item at them, so that they catch it by a reflex."
"Of course," Pansy suddenly got a bright light in her eyes. "The Malfoy sword!"
"What about my sabre, Pansy?" Draco narrowed his eyes.
"We could attach the Banishing Charm on the sabre, and you could give it to... erm, him," she caught herself just in time. It wouldn't do to tell Snape whom they were going to banish. After all, they did not know that Professor Severus Snape was a member of the Order.
"I'll just leave you children to your own musings," Snape huffed. "I'd rather have a word with those bloody first years than find out what's boiling in those scheming, wicked brains of yours."
"Good day, sir," Millicent called after the billowing, black robes.
"Hmm," Draco leaned backwards, supporting himself on the elbows. "Spect the biggest problem here after all is how to find the runic address to hell."
**
Harry Potter was not happy. His day had begun with wretched anticipation, and it certainly seemed to continue the same way. No matter how cheerful he tried to be among his Gryffindor friends, he did nothing but scream inside. Draco Malfoy was laughing and having fun with his classmates, obviously having all forgotten about Harry. The anger and the despair tried to find their way to the surface again, but wisely, Harry kept them in check. He would not break down now. He would not be weak! And he certainly would not go begging Draco to take him back. Not anymore.
He drew knees closer to his chest, idly playing with the soaking wet trouser legs with his left hand. He was rather cold. He was barefoot, and some itchy sand had attached to his moist skin between his toes after he'd come back from the lake. Looking frustrated, but too lazy to scratch it off, he directed his eyes at Ron and Dean, who were playing chess with the tiny pebbles he had brought. Clearly, Ron was feeling a bit confused and uncomfortable, but was making a good effort to gather courage for a possible date later that day. Dean was just animated, not concentrating on the chess game the least, but rather on Ron's body language. Dean gave Harry a bright smile, and mouthed a silent 'thank you'. Harry forced himself to grin, and then turned away. Sighing, he settled himself down on his stomach, and rested his head on the soft blanket beneath him. He didn't want to see Draco anymore. It only hurt him, no matter how much he tried to deny it.
**
Harry didn't know how much time he had spent slumbering under the misty sun, but suddenly he felt an icy breeze that seeped straight through his bones. He opened his drowsy eyes, blinked a few times to get a focus, and found out that the sun was no longer shining. Cold, coal-black darkness surrounded him and his friends from every direction, and some distant screams of younger students intruded into his understanding.
"Dementors! Dementors!" The wind carried the words from somewhere.
"Dementors?" Harry asked out loud, nudging himself up to his feet. "Mione, Ron, where are you?" he asked, still half sleepily.
"We're right here, Harry," Hermione said, reaching out a hand to touch Harry's shoulder. Her voice was a bit uncertain.
"I bet Dumbledore didn't actually plan this as a part of our amusement," Harry muttered, fumbling for his wand. "Where's my wand?"
"You don't have your wand with you?" Ron panicked. "Harry, how could you leave it?"
Some more distant screams echoed from where the Ravenclaws had been situated, and many students were already passing them by, running back towards the castle.
"Well I didn't leave it on purpose, Ron," Harry said, dismayed. "But what's the big deal, anyway? You all know how to cast a Patronus, don't you?"
"Er..." Ron looked a bit uncertain.
"Here they come!" Seamus shouted, and shuddered. "Wands ready!"
At the same moment Harry got the Dementors in his sight, the familiar pang of hurt and nausea hit him. His head felt like exploding, and the echoes of his mother's screams filled every ounce of his brain.
Harry cursed for not having his wand. True, he was able to perform some wandless magic, but nothing as big as the Patronus. Besides, Dumbledore had given him strict orders not to use his abilities in public. Harry growled and looked pleadingly at Hermione.
"Expecto Patronum!" the girl shouted. A tiny, bouncing silvery otter erupted from her wand. It danced around the Gryffindor group, and tried to scare the advancing black hooded creatures away.
"It's not helping!" Lavender screamed. "I'm out of here!"
Harry, through his pain, vaguely noticed how more and more students were leaving the beach –Lavender, Parvati and Seamus from his own group, and nearly every other Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, excluding Zacharias Smith and Ernie McMillan, who tried to cast their respective Patronus Charms on the black creatures. Yet, no-one of the sixth or seventh year Slytherins had moved from their spots. Crabbe was even eating a sandwich, and Draco was idly lighting up a cigarette.
"So this was your revenge, Draco!" Harry breathed, and tears began to fall from his eyes. "You betrayed me after all."
"Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!" shouted Ron, trying to make his spell work, however in vain.
"Ron, don't panic," Hermione sobbed. "You can't cast the spell if you can't concentrate!"
"Aaah, here they are!" screamed Ginny, and dashed off, as fast as she could.
Harry dropped on his knees, and huddled into a tight ball. A total misery filled his soul: there was no hope left, not one positive memory, not one happy thought. The voices became distant in his ears, all except the heart-breaking one of Lily Potter's. Distantly he noticed how Ron and Hermione clustered protectively around him, but when the coldness finally seeped through every single fibre of his body, he felt their presence fading. Slowly opening his eyes, he no more saw his two best friends –if not their retreating backs.
Harry squirmed in the ground, holding his head and shedding silent tears. So this is how it all was going to end? How pathetic. The Wonder Boy of the Wizarding World would turn into a soulless zombie in the grounds of Hogwarts School, because of one little kiss from a Dementor.
Kiss from a Dementor... Dementor's Kiss... Draco... Draco... Please, don't let me die, Draco...
**
Draco watched the horrible scenario in awe and disgust, blowing some white ringlets of smoke in the darkened air. He looked at Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, both clumped under a tree, stiff and white as chalk statues. It really surprised the Slytherin how neither of the two tried to defend their best friend until the very end –especially when the whole future of the wizarding world lay within this boy. Some Gryffindors!
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" he muttered, and stood up. Batting some non-existent dust away from his robes, he then steered his steps towards Harry and the Dementors.
"Be careful, baby!" Blaise yelled after him.
Draco ignored her. Anger and worry were blurring his brain, and the only thing he could see was Harry lying on the ground, all alone, abandoned by all his friends. If his respect towards Harry's house had been lingering between weak and non-existent before, it was now below zero.
Speeding up his steps, Draco strode straight in front of the Dementors and punched the closest one in the face. The surprised Dementor withdrew, hissing cruelly, and the other five came closer. Draco raised them a brow, as if asking if they were seriously trying to get past him.
"What? Come on! What are you waiting for?" he mocked. He was glad that the Dementors did not affect him the way they affected Harry. But, then again, he was under Voldemort's protection.
Draco challenged the creatures with his ice-grey eyes. There was some loud sizzling under the black hoods.
"Come on! Show me your ugly faces so that I can see what kind of mongrels I am trying to beat the shit out of."
"Draco..."
Draco felt Harry's hand clutching his calf.
"Draco, please... Patronus... Use the Patronus Ch-charm..."
"Aw, but I was just going to practise my Dux Ryu Ninjitsu skills," Draco smirked, and faced the black-hooded creatures again.
Harry tightened his grip of Draco's leg. "It's hurting... too much... Please!"
"Hmph," Draco frowned. "Be careful what you wish for."
"Please, Draco..."
"Hmph. Fine. But don't blame me for the consequences then."
Gracefully taking his wand from the loop of his belt, Draco cast the incantation in the air.
"Expecto Patronus Infusco Praevalens!"
Immediately, a very powerful magic started to stir in the air. Something huge and diamond-white began to emerge from the tip of Draco's wand, and a little earthquake-like stutter ravished the whole beach. The brilliant frost that now encircled both Draco and Harry, began to form into a gigantic, three-headed wraithlike snake.
Draco Malfoy's Patronus was an enormous Runespoor. It grew until it was at least nine feet long. It was very angry-looking, like its master, and it swayed like a cobra in front of the Dementors. The left head hissed something poisonous to the right head, and the right head revealed long, venomous fangs.
"Hello, Devilita," Draco sighed, affectionately. "Do your job, honey."
The middle head of Devilita sizzled silently, closing her eyes, as if concentrating. And indeed, not many seconds later, all of the three reptile heads turned like a group of well-trained soldiers towards the attackers. The Runespoor sank all her six ghostly fangs through the Dementors' forms several times, and the result was as expected: the Dementors escaped. Their black robes so far as billowed as they went, which in itself was previously unseen.
Draco smirked, and then turned to look at Harry, who was writhing on the ground, fingers clutching the canvas of his trousers. "You okay?"
Harry cried silently, tears flooding down his ashen cheeks. Draco frowned, feeling uncomfortable, and knelt beside him.
"Harry?"
Harry sobbed, and sniffled, and then ventured a shy glance at Draco. The silvery Runespoor Patronus burst into little white stars behind the Slytherin's back, lightening up the dark sky, and dissipated.
"Thank you," Harry whispered, so quietly that Draco nearly missed it.
"You're welcome," Draco replied, looking a little uncertain.
Harry broke into a teary smile, and threw himself against the blond with all the force that was left in him. He wrapped his arms around Draco's neck like a medusa would wrap the tentacles around its prey, and batted his wet lashes against Draco's neck.
"Um, Potter?"
But before Draco could continue his question, Ron and Hermione turned up. Ron strode straight at Draco, and knocked him harshly away.
"What the hell do you think you're doing Malfoy?" he spat.
Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously and refused to move from Harry's side. "Weasley, I think I am just doing what you should be doing."
Ron looked acidic, and went red. "What the fuck are you talking about, Ferret?"
"Do you usually leave your friends in trouble, Weasel? Huh?"
"Bugger off, Malfoy, and leave us alone," Ron managed to choke. He glared at Draco as if wanting nothing more than to punch him.
Draco returned the glare and looked with disgust and hurt at how Ron cradled Harry in his arms, so that the two Gryffindors were huddled together. Harry didn't seem to protest very much, and Draco felt his heart tear to shreds in his chest. The taste of blood filled his mouth. So, it really was Ron that Harry wanted.
Emotionally drained, Draco took support from the ground and began to stand up. "Fine."
"NO!" Harry suddenly cried, voice broken, and knocked Ron away. "No, don't go, Draco!"
Harry crawled at Draco's feet and hugged tightly the Slytherin's both thighs. Shuddering, he closed his teary eyes. "Don't go, Draco... I... I can't be without you. I love you."
Draco's heart jumped with something brutally wonderful that made his breath glitch. Feeling Harry's hands crawling up his leg, the fingers finally twining around his belt and tugging him downwards, wanting him to kneel down again, Draco thought nothing in the world had felt so beautiful before. Harry Potter had just confessed in front of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger that he loved Draco Malfoy.
Ron was too shocked to speak, so he just looked stupid and blinked his eyes. Hermione felt the need to sit down on the sandy ground, to prevent herself from fainting. Draco gave them both an insolent sneer and bent to gather Harry up from his armpits.
"Come now, Harry, get up," she said gently, so that everybody could hear him. "We must get you a chocolate bar from Crabbe's basket."
Harry cuddled against Draco, his knees still weak, and sobbed. Ron and Hermione were eyeing each other, speechless.
"S-so it's you," Ron finally coughed. "Now I see it. All the secrecy... I should have guessed!"
"Yes, but brains were not something you were blessed with when you were born, Weasley," Draco looked evil. "What surprises me more is that even Granger didn't figure it out."
Ron made a move towards Draco, but Hermione hurried to grab his sleeve.
"We had our own distracting problems, Malfoy," she explained, her usually warm, brown eyes now frosty.
"Yes, so I have heard," Draco smirked.
"The Halloween... A dragon tamer, for fuck's sake... now I get the whole picture," Ron continued his silent wondering, his face in a disgusted grimace.
"Glad you do, Weasley." Draco slid his arm around Harry's hips.
Ron looked purely murderous. "What have you done to him, Malfoy? Did you cast an Imperius Curse on him? What?"
"I did no such thing," Draco clarified.
"The hell you didn't!" Ron shouted. "Nobody could date you!"
"And why is that, exactly?" Draco raised a brow. "I am rich, handsome and clever, a really good lover, plus I never bore anybody requesting silly chess games twenty-four-seven."
Ron leapt closer to punch Draco, but when the other Slytherin students gathered behind the insolent Ice Prince and Harry, he no longer dared to do that.
"So sick," was all he said, looking like he'd eaten a rotten lemon. "Harry, how could you?"
Harry turned his teary green eyes at his best friend but said nothing.
"And obviously every single one of these Slytherin brats knew!" Ron fumed, gesturing at Draco's friends. "They all knew. They all have known heaven knows how long a time, but your best friends didn't!"
"Calm down, Ron," Hermione said, her voice faint. "Let's go back to the castle."
Hermione gave Harry a freezing look, stood up and turned her back at the Slytherin group. Ron followed her, saying nothing more.
Harry collapsed yet again in frantic sobs against Draco's chest. "They h-hate me! They all hate me..."
Draco silenced Harry with his soft lips.
"Let's take him into the dungeons," Millicent said, sternly. "Blaise, you go and order some hot chocolate from Pomfrey."
"Wait, wait!" came a yell from their side. "Not so fast, I must ask you!"
It was Minerva McGonagall, quickly followed by Dumbledore and Professor Snape.
"What in the name of Alberic Grunnion was that?" McGonagall asked, eyeing Harry and Draco suspiciously. "And why are you two kissing?"
Draco slowly let Harry's lips free and arrogantly turned his head towards the teachers. "Those were Dementors, Professor McGonagall, in case you failed to recognize them. And I am kissing Potter here because I want to."
Dumbledore smiled amusedly. "Indeed."
Snape looked sour, but somehow also contented, snorting disapprovingly only because it was his habit to do so in this kind of situations.
"And what was all that magic?" McGonagall didn't seem to be affected by Draco's rudeness. "It shook the glass jars in Professor Snape's office! Which are, if I may remind you, as deep down as in the dungeons!"
"Well obviously, it was my Patronus, Professor," Draco drawled.
"Nobody's Patronus is that strong," McGonagall exhaled in distress. "There was definitely some dark magic combined with it!"
Draco looked like as if he'd want to roll his eyes, "Well, duh, of course there was some dark magic combined! Who do you think I am, for Merlin's sake? Mandy Brocklehurst?"
Snape snorted, and hid a grin behind his palm, faking a cough.
"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall shrieked. "This is unheard of! You were enhancing your spell with dark magic, in the school grounds no less, in front of everybody! I say you should be expelled!"
"No," Harry cut in, looking furious. "No he shouldn't!"
"Pardon?" McGonagall looked surprised.
"Draco saved my soul, for Merlin's sake," Harry seethed. "He will not be expelled."
"You are right, Potter," Snape accompanied. "He will not."
Minerva McGonagall gave a reproachful look at everybody, including Dumbledore, who hadn't yet even said anything.
"This is sheer madness," she hissed. "That Malfoy boy is a son of a Death Eater! He will kill Mr. Potter if we don't do anything about it!"
"I'd hardly kill anyone who can give as good head as Potter here can," Draco grunted.
"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall gasped, and blushed, her eyes angry. "How indecent!"
"Personally," Harry started. "I don't give a jumping cunt if you have some personal problems with gay men, but this is where we stand. So take it and swallow it, or jump in the lake and shag the squid. I'm sure you'll get lucky with it, if nobody else."
"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore gave Harry a warning glare. "I think this is enough."
"Fifty points from Gryffindor!" cried McGonagall. "And two days detention with Mr. Filch, Potter!"
Snape chuckled.
"I think Harry doesn't look too well," Blaise Zabini interrupted. "Those Dementors did their trick to him again, and he's just lost his two best friends. So might I suggest you continue this needless argument tomorrow, or something? Clearly Harry isn't in his right mind, right now."
Draco smiled thankfully at his friend. "I agree."
"Hey!" Harry pouted.
"There's no reason to postpone this," Dumbledore said, raising his hand. "I have made my decision. Nobody gets punished or expelled, except that you, Harry, will serve one night's detention with Filch due to your harsh words towards the Deputy Headmistress. And also, Harry, it would delight me if you would come to see me tomorrow. I'd like a word with you."
Both Harry and Draco nodded, and the Slytherins began to retreat towards the castle.
"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry mumbled at Professor McGonagall.
"Hmph," the Head of Gryffindor house harrumphed. "Very well, Mr. Potter. We shall not talk about this anymore."
**
In the Slytherin dungeons, Draco laid Harry gently on his bed in the sixth year boys' dormitory. Vincent, Gregory, Theodore, Blaise, Pansy and Millicent were all gathered in the room, watching the weak Gryffindor worriedly. With a smooth 'pop', the house-elf Winky emerged in the middle of the floor, carrying a mug of hot chocolate, sent by Madam Pomfrey from the hospital wing. Blaise took it and brought it down to Harry's lips.
"Here, baby," she cooed. This almost made Draco laugh –Blaise never cooed. "Drink this. It'll make you feel stronger."
Harry accepted the warm drink, smiling weakly. "Thanks, Zabini."
"Why on earth didn't you have your wand with you?" Pansy asked. "Rather inconsiderate, to say the least."
"It was an accident," Harry muttered, looking adorably shy, with flushed cheeks and chocolate foam covering his lips.
Draco took the mug from his hand, and placed it on the nightstand. Then he tugged Harry under the fluffy quilt.
"Get some sleep, crazy-ass," he sighed, looking slightly concerned.
Harry looked at him quietly. "Are you still mad at me?"
"Hmm, a little," Draco gave him a small smile. "Now get some sleep."
Harry picked up Draco's hand and nuzzled his cheek against the warm palm, closing his eyes. "Good night, then, love."
Draco's expression revealed that he was really shocked by Harry's gentleness, which evoked smooth chuckles from their audience.
"Suppose he wants you to stay with him," Pansy giggled.
**
Hours passed by, and the night tiptoed over the grounds of Hogwarts. Draco was sitting cross-legged at the end of his bed, doing his DADA homework. Every now and then, he ventured an uncertain glance at Harry, who snoozed peacefully right next to him, drooling on his pillow. Crabbe and Goyle had come back from the kitchens a couple of hours ago, and they were now playing with cards on the floor. The atmosphere was tranquil, to say the least.
There was a silent knock on the door. Goyle went to open it, and let Blaise, Montague and Warrington enter the room.
"How is he?" Montague asked, walking over to Draco's bed.
Draco looked surprised. "You actually care how he is?"
"Well, we do," was Blaise's reply. "He's important to you, you're important to us and therefore he's important to us as well."
"He's fine, I guess," Draco shrugged. "Hasn't woken up, yet, though."
"He's gorgeous," smiled Warrington, admiring the shiny black hair and thick black lashes of the sleeping Gryffindor.
"He's more like beautiful," echoed Montague, sighing.
"And he's mine," Draco growled, possessively.
Blaise giggled a bit too loudly, and Harry stirred.
"Oops," Montague grinned. "I think we're going now. Crabbe, Goyle, if you would care to sleep in the seventh years' dormitory tonight...?"
"Uh... sure," Vincent mumbled.
"Of course," Gregory accompanied, and grabbed his pajamas. "See you tomorrow then, Draco."
"See you," Draco smiled, and waited for the wooden door to slam shut behind the visitors. The clanking noise finally made Harry snap his hazy eyes open. Immediately, Draco pushed his homework aside and leaned closer.
"Hey there," he smiled lovingly down at the Gryffindor.
"Hey," Harry answered, softly. He looked confused, probably because he'd never seen a truly gentle expression on Draco before.
"Feeling better?"
Harry nuzzled deeper under the thick, soft quilt, and peered cautiously from under the brim, only his green eyes showing. "Um-hmm."
Draco broke into a genuine smile. "You're such a wanker, aren't you, baby?"
Harry disappeared completely under the cover. Draco laughed.
"You should get up, you know, it's almost ten in the evening."
"Ten?" was the muffled reply, and the black canvas stirred.
"Yes, ten," Draco was mirthful. "You've been sleeping for five hours, at least."
The bundle of sheets was silent for a moment, until Draco heard Harry yawn. "Do I need to return to my own dormitory now?"
"I don't know," Draco shrugged. "Do you want to?"
"No," Harry sighed. "Your bed is more comfortable than mine."
"Of course it is."
"So, I can sleep here tonight?" Harry crawled halfway out from his shelter.
"Hmph. Just make sure you don't steal the quilt from me at any point. That really pisses me off," Draco mock-pouted.
"I'll be good, Draco," Harry sighed, and nuzzled closer to the Slytherin. "You know I love you."
Draco went rigid. "Don't say that."
"Why not?" Harry asked, and slithered his arm under Draco's silken pajama top. "I do."
"You're mental, Harry. You know I'm about to become a Death Eater next Saturday?"
"Yes."
"And you know that I'm supposed to betray you to the Dark Lord?"
"Yes, Lupin let me understand as much."
"Then what the fuck are you still doing in my bed?"
"Hmm... let me see," Harry looked sly. "How about this?"
Harry tugged Draco closer, pressed him down and leaped into the Slytherin's lap. Then he captured Draco's lips hungrily, and ripped forcefully the shirt off, so that the buttons flew in every which direction. Draco's darkened, grey irises were huge with surprise, and Harry thought he looked really delicious.
"Harry!" Draco gasped, when he was freed from the kiss. "I don't think I've yet forgiven you entirely. That means I'm not gonna let you have sex with me."
Harry sulked, looking miserable. "Aww, come on! I know you want to –you wanted me even when we were fighting last Friday."
"That's not the point here, you dipstick!" Draco snarled. "You have been a really bad boy, and I should punish you."
"So punish me," Harry's eyes glinted wickedly.
"You are one crazy-ass bitch, did you know that?" Draco pulled an exasperated face.
Harry smirked and began to kiss Draco's milky chest teasingly, licking his nipples on the way. "Pretty please, love?"
Draco groaned and shoved Harry off his lap. Harry's eyes flickered sadness and disappointment. However, Draco then made a sudden move and grabbed Harry from the neck and hauled him over, pressing the Gryffindor against the mattress and sitting on his stomach.
"Ha! Almost got you there!"
Harry looked ecstatic, grinning like a fool, his eyes brightening. "You're such a tease."
Draco slid a little lower, straddling Harry's waist, and positioned his fingers at the waistband of Harry's trousers. "Want me to open the zip?" he simpered, caressing the dark hair that led downwards from Harry's navel. "I can feel you need some, ah, freedom."
"Oh, yes... Please, Draco," Harry sighed.
The Slytherin's fingers began to work with his trouser button. "Oh, yes, what?" Draco asked, looking innocent, and tugging the zipper open. "Tell me, Harry, do you want me?"
"More than anything," Harry's mouth was dry. "I want you, only you."
"Good." Draco made a neat swirl with his wand, and a bottle of champagne emerged on the side table, in a wooden basket full of ice.
"Celebrating?" Harry asked, stretching out his hands to reach Draco's buttocks and squeezing them.
Draco smiled wickedly down at him. "You could say so."
Harry watched with a contented expression as Draco reached for the large, green bottle and brought it in front of his face.
"Wish me to open it, Harry?" Draco simpered.
"Mmm... Yeah," Harry grinned.
"Oh, but I haven't got a bottle opener," Draco smirked. "Can I try a new way to open it?"
"Magic?" Harry asked. "Sure."
"Magic indeed," Draco's expression was devilish. Before Harry could do anything, Draco had swirled his wand once more, and the helpless Gryffindor found his hands bound with magical chains on the bedposts.
"No touching my ass yet, luv," Draco chuckled.
"Nothing ground-breaking here," Harry showed Draco his tongue, giggling. "Bondage games are out of date. I thought you were more original type of a lover."
"How about this for something more original?" Draco grinned, and brought the frosty, cold bottle against Harry's bare stomach.
"Aaaaaaaaagh! Eeeeek! STOP IT! SHIT! It's FREEZING!" Harry gasped eyes wide.
Draco laughed, very amused, bringing the bottle downwards along Harry's abdomen. "Oh, really?"
"DRACO! STOP IT! Aaaaaahhhh!!!"
"You've been a really naughty boy," Draco drawled, licking his lips. "I need to cool you down a bit."
Some sub-zero droplets of water slithered down the champagne bottle, dropping on Harry's front.
"Oh, MERLIN! Draco, I'm really gonna kill you... Eeeek! Aaah! DRACO!"
"Shut up, you sod!" Draco sneered and turned the bottle neck-way down, pushing it slowly inside Harry's pants.
Harry was beyond shocked, gasping for air and comprehension, and Draco sniggered self-satisfied. "Let's take your trousers off, shall we, love?" The blonde drew the cold bottle out of Harry's pants and put it on the floor.
"Just do anything you fucking want, Draco." Harry breathed heavily.
"Naturally," Draco said, rising up and, with swift movements, undressing Harry. He didn't mind ripping some of the Gryffindor's clothes apart in his haste; they were about the same size after all, and Harry could have any of his own robes in replacement later.
Harry arched his neck when Draco's fingers returned to fondle the soft skin right under his belly. Those magical fingers then slithered downwards, and chills ran down his spine.
"You like this?" Draco drawled, and ghosted his fingers over Harry's erection.
"Mmmm, yesss..." Harry panted. "More."
"Beg your pardon?" Draco raised his elegant brow, lifting his hand away. "If I remember correctly, this is exactly how you once teased me, that night on the castle roof."
"Gods, I was a sadist, forgive me! Just... Do something already...!"
"Oh, yeah?"
"Fuck, yeah!"
Draco's white teeth flashed in the dungeon candlelight. "How about... this?"
Draco reached for the empty champagne bottle basket and picked up a cube of ice. Then he put it in his mouth, between his teeth, and leaned in to kiss Harry.
Harry moaned as Draco slipped the ice cube in his mouth, simultaneously entwining him into an ardent French kiss. The ice felt dead cold, and it sent shivers through his whole body, especially the lower parts of it. Draco retreated, leaving the ice to melt on Harry's tongue, and took another cube from the cask.
"Now, don't bite the cube, baby... It will melt too rapidly then," Draco smirked and placed the other cube in his own mouth. He, instead, chewed it in little frosty pieces.
"Damn, this really is arctic!" he breathed, before rapidly going down on Harry and swallowing his cock in his cold mouth.
"Mmmpfh!" Harry jerked up from the pillows, his wrists clashing against the magical bounds with the abrupt movement. His eyes went large as Draco sucked him with all his might, playing with the tiny pieces of ice around his erection at the same time.
"D-d-dwaco!" Harry couldn't help but moaning, the ice cube in his mouth preventing all coherent talking on his part. "Ohhh... Mowe! Pwease!"
Draco brought his other hand on Harry's abdomen and began to fondle his nicely-developed, now slightly wet muscles. Then he concentrated, relaxed his throat and took Harry's length completely in his mouth, pressing his lips tightly together. Then he pulled back, teasing Harry's cock all the way up with his cold tongue.
Harry threw his head aside, his wild black hair spraying all over the green pillow, and his breath hitched with pleasure. The ice was melting in his mouth rapidly.
"I think the champagne bottle is still closed," Draco grinned, retreating. Harry's disappointed, unintelligible and whimpering form almost made him laugh. "Care to hold it while I do the opening?"
Harry's eyes were gleaming brightly with lust. With a nice flick of his wand, Draco released Harry's wrists and picked up the bottle from the floor. Then he bent the Gryffindor's legs over his shoulders, leaned down, and pushed the champagne bottle in Harry's hand.
"Now, I'm gonna ride you hard, and you're gonna scream my name," Draco informed.
Harry gasped as Draco pushed inside, with one, long, smooth movement. Instinctively, he threw his arms around Draco's neck, grimacing with initial pain, the champagne bottle still clutched in his left hand. Draco sizzled when the cold glass of the bottle hit his shoulder blades, and thrust even more forcefully in Harry.
Harry mewled, feeling how Draco hit that one, pleasurable spot somewhere inside him.
"Do you want some more?" Draco hissed.
"Yes!" Harry screamed, as Draco did yet another attack with full force. "Yes, oh gods, YES!"
"Am I hurting you?" Draco said, grounding deep inside.
Tears filled Harry's eyes, and he squeezed the bottle with one hand, while the other cramped around Draco's lengthy white hair. "You know you are, you bitch!" he sniffled, and pulled Draco's locks, as if to make his point.
"Mmmmrrrrh," Draco groaned and lowered his lips almost on Harry's. "I bet Ron would've been nicer... gentle and sweet... all those things you Gryffindors appreciate."
Harry gasped with fury, and captured Draco's lower lip between his teeth. "That was so disgusting of you! Fuck you! I like it the Slytherin way, you son of a bitch, you know I do."
Draco smiled scarily, looking like a hungry vampire. "I know."
Draco attacked Harry's neck, biting it madly as he made wild love to the Gryffindor. Harry squeezed the champagne bottle with both hands now, and clamped also his legs around Draco's waist, in pure ecstasy. Yelling and screaming Draco's name, he thrust upwards to meet Draco's every push.
"Break me, baby..." Harry panted in Draco's ear. "Break me..."
Draco's shouted out loud as the orgasm hit him. Harry shouted with him, shuddering in his own pleasure.
The champagne bottle burst open, and a shower of golden bubbles rained over them.
**
"Harry?"
"Mmmmh?"
"Are you still awake?"
"Mmmmh."
Draco cracked one eye open and looked hazily at the black-haired boy, who lay next to him, breathing evenly against his chest.
"You know that I can't say it, but I do kinda love you, too."
"Mmmmh…" Harry yawned. "You just said it, you fuckwit."
"Hmm," Draco frowned. "So I did."
"Now shut up and get some sleep."
…TBC…