A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Stine. Also, I want to thank you ALL for the wonderful and plentiful reviews I've gotten; I am quite amazed. I'm sorry this chapter took so long to update, but recently I haven't had the slightest interest to write anything at all. But, you know how it works... get enough emails that complain what a lazy wanker I am, and there I go again. Must write. Must... Must... sigh

.

.

11. Red Blooded Monsters

The rain continued the whole afternoon. It drummed on the rooftops and hammered the gothic windows, making everything outside look dull and grey. Harry was afraid that soon it would be also thundering and hailing, seeing as Draco was still in a very foul mood, examining his nails disinterestedly with his sad, shiny eyes.

The both boys were sitting in the library with Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Harry had really promised to see them today, and since Draco seemed to be obliging, meaning that he didn't talk anymore, the Gryffindor had steered their steps past Madam Pince at the corner table that was Hermione's favourite. And here they now were, trying to concentrate on studying.

Hermione had ushered Ron and Harry to read Potions, while she and Ginny started to talk something about Arithmancy. Nobody cared if Draco studied or not; in actual fact no-one dared to speak a word to him. Not even Harry dared to suggest that Draco should take out his quill and ink bottle and finish the Herbology essay due to the following day, although he was sure the blonde hadn't done it, yet. There was something about the Slytherin that made them all feel wary around him.

Harry's eyes snapped away from Draco's pale face when he received a note from Ron, under the table. They were sitting opposite to each other, separating the girls from Draco –just in case. That left Harry sitting between Draco and Ginny, and Ron sitting next to the bushy-haired Hermione. Harry tried to be careful with the piece of parchment Ron had slipped between his fingers; he didn't want Ginny or Draco to know what it said.

What's wrong with Malfoy? Ron wrote.

Harry sighed, and glanced again at the brooding Slytherin. Shoulders slumped, head leaning against the cold window glass –Malfoy really was depressed. He had to be; otherwise he wouldn't be so openly showing his emotions.

We had quite a rough verbal banter today. And believe it or not, I won it. That's why he's pouting.

Harry answered Ron's question and slipped the note back to the red-head. He knew that this wasn't exactly the whole truth, but he didn't have the energy to elaborate right now.

Ron swiftly read the lines and frowned. Soon, Harry felt the familiar parchment in his hand again.

He doesn't just pout, Harry, Ron's messy handwriting said. He looks like he's holding back tears. What did you say to him, to make him so damn miserable? I wish I would have been there, mate! I really wish.

Harry immediately looked up and into the eyes of the half-Veela. They really were gleaming, as if he was trying not to cry. Furrowing his black brows, Harry followed Draco's glossy gaze out of the window and found out that it really had started to thunder and hail.

I think I insulted his Veela instincts or something. Harry answered Ron. I said nobody could ever love him, Veela or not, and he didn't take it so well. He conjured up those rain clouds right after.

Harry waited a few slowly passing seconds until it was safe to slip the parchment back to Ron, without Ginny and Hermione noticing. Then he turned to look at Draco, once again. The Slytherin shifted cautiously in his seat and leaned his forehead tiredly against his hands. His gaze now nailed at the brown tabletop, he sighed and began to slowly massage his scalp. Silvery blond hair slithered like milk through his fingers, and Harry found himself staring.

Ron passed the note to him, again. How in the bloody hell can he conjure up storm clouds?

Harry smiled, despite himself. He can't. But he can command the winds, somehow. Just this one stupid Veela trick. And, um, well... I heard it was raining in London today. Guess it isn't, any more.

Harry sniggered as Ron read his explanation, the blue Weasley eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

"Boys, what are you doing?" snapped Hermione, and ripped the note from Ron's hand before he could answer it. Quickly, she scanned it through. "Really, how mature," she huffed. "Now stop this idiocy and get back to your Potions books, or else."

Draco turned his head and looked quizzically at the mortified Harry. "She's quite the little tyrant, isn't she?" he quipped.

Harry and Ron both snorted with mirth, despite themselves.

"I am not a tyrant!" Hermione gasped, very much insulted. "I'm just trying to get these two blockheads through this school year. They're so lazy and disinterested in everything that I really need to whip some energy into them."

"Ah," Draco looked thoughtful. "Whipping? I never knew you liked that kind of games, Harry."

Harry and Ron both blushed deeply, and Ginny started to giggle.

"Malfoy, I do not like that kind of games," Harry cleared his throat. "Just so you know."

Draco merely raised him a brow, and then turned back into his former, miserable mood. Harry didn't even try to understand what was going on in the blonde's mind, and grabbed his Potions book like Hermione had instructed.

"Um, Ron, Harry?" Hermione tentatively asked. "Er... I would like to have a word with you two. Alone. If... If you know what I mean."

"Yeah, sure," Ron said, and stood up with frenzy.

Harry's movements were much more hesitant and slower, as he didn't really know what she meant.

"Let's go there," Hermione gestured towards the other end of the library hall. "Ginny, Malfoy, we'll be right back."

Harry made a move to step away from the table, but felt something restraining him. Looking down, he noticed it was Malfoy, his pale hand grasping the hems of his robes.

"Are you going to leave me alone?" he whispered, a flash of panic crossing his eyes.

"I won't be far away," Harry promised. "I can hear you if you call my name."

Draco nodded, and let his hand fall to his side. "Okay."

Harry smiled quickly and nervously down at the other boy, and hastened after Ron and Hermione.

Hermione sat down on a vacant windowsill and began to fumble something out of her heavy backpack.

"This," she finally said, smiling. "This is the list."

Harry was dumbfounded. "What list?"

"The list of those who want to get into Malfoy's pants, of course," Ron smirked.

Harry's eyes widened ever so slightly with horror. "So... You really made a list, then, huh?"

"Yeah," Hermione beamed. "Take a look at it."

Harry grabbed the piece of parchment, which turned out to be a long list of names. A very long list of names. Hermione had numbered each and every one of them, and Harry blanched when he saw the last number and name in the row: 198. Dumbledore.

"This is... this is just plain disgusting," he gurgled out.

"Isn't it!" Ron laughed in happiness. "This is going to be so great!"

Harry scanned the list over again, and felt even more repulsed than before. All the names didn't even belong to human beings; there were also centaurs on the list, as well as the merpeople and Professor Trelawney.

"Er... What am I supposed to do with this list?" Harry asked.

"Why, you will try to arrange each and every one of them a private meeting with Malfoy," Hermione explained. "That way, we can help him to find his mate."

"I will not do anything of the sort," Harry tossed the parchment back to Hermione. "Whether you like it or not, I happen to feel a little sympathy towards the git, and I will not go through with this... this... this plan of yours. It is plain degrading to human dignity."

"But Malfoy's not human," Ron pointed out, ever so helpfully.

"Yes, he is," Harry protested. "I really think he is. Well, I didn't at first, but I've changed my mind."

"Do you like him?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Er," Harry didn't know what to say. "I... I think he's not so bad."

"Harry, listen to us," Hermione crossed her arms. "You must go through this plan, whether you like it or not. You know, you're helping both him and yourself if you do it."

Rolling his eyes, Harry snatched the list from Hermione's fingers and looked at the first name in the row. "Colin Creevey?"

"Yes," Hermione smiled. "Quite harmless, right? He's not capable of violating anyone, not even Malfoy. He'll probably just offer the brat a rose and ask him out for a dinner."

Harry took a long, shuddering breath. "Alright, I see what I can do," he promised. "But I won't be going through this with any of the teachers, or magical creatures. You can't possibly understand how traumatizing this has been to him, already."

"Sounds like you have really started to care about the scumbag," Ron frowned.

"I care about myself, thank you," Harry put the parchment into his pocket. "If something awful happens to Malfoy, then it will happen to me, too."

"Don't worry, Harry. I'm sure you'll find his mate even before you reach Professor Flitwick's number," Hermione smiled.

Harry was sure his face had turned visibly green.

"Guys, I'm sorry, but I have to go now," Hermione continued, standing up. "I have some practical work to do in the potions lab. I'll see you two later, then."

"Yeah," Harry answered, faintly. "See you."

Hermione quickly excused herself and stormed out of the library. Harry and Ron were left standing by the window, both of them staring outside at the darkening weather.

"It's beautiful," Harry commented. "The rain."

Ron didn't say anything, only leaned against the wall and nodded.

They spent the next two minutes in a complete, companionable silence, until an angry voice from behind their backs cut the tranquil air.

"Ginevra fucking Weasley, may I ask if you are after my ass or my fortune?" The voice clearly belonged to Draco. "Because I tell you, you're wasting your time. My ass already belongs to my mate, and even my fortune could not save your family from bankruptcy."

Harry sighed. Here we go again...

"Hey, um, Malfoy?"

Draco raised his head and sneered at Ginny. Harry had just left the table with Weasley and the Mudblood, and he was left alone with the Weasel's little sister. The girl had somehow managed to slither in the opposite chair to his, and was now annoyingly gawking at him over the tabletop.

"What?" he asked, irritated. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Busy doing what?" she asked, and flashed a charming smile. "I can't see you're studying anything."

Draco felt repulsed. "Look. I know I'm as handsome as Narcissus himself, but I'd really appreciate if you kept your admiration on a more subdued level. Staring is impolite."

To Draco's dismay, Ginevra Weasley only tossed her hair airily back and giggled. "You're so hot when you're angry, did you know that?"

Draco stared. "Have you gone mad, woman?"

"I've been watching you, for quite a long time already," Ginny continued, her voice now low and secretive. "I've been following your interactions with Harry... Especially the fights. They... turn me on, quite heavily, really. You have quite the body there, Malfoy."

Despite himself, Draco felt his cheeks heat up. Luckily, Malfoy's did not visibly blush. He looked elsewhere, and hoped that he was just having a twisted nightmare. But, of course, he wasn't.

"You know," the girl continued, reaching out and trailing a soft finger along Draco's forearm. "We could make it work... We're both pure-blooded and beautiful..."

Draco leaped up from his chair and dusted his robes, looking horrified and pained. "Excuse me, Miss Weasley, but I'm leaving now."

"Oh, don't be like that," Ginny playfully pouted. "You know you want some."

"Listen. I am not joking. I wish you wouldn't try anything with me, because I don't want to hurt you. No matter how many times I have battled with your ugly big brother, I refuse hit a woman."

"Refuse to hit a woman, eh?" the red-head smirked, catching Draco's words. "Oh, so you're gay, is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"You twist my words," Draco's eye twitched.

"That won't make them any less true," Ginny smirked.

"I said I wouldn't hurt you, but I do know a couple of good hexes I'm ready to use if necessary."

"Aw, they won't be necessary," Ginny cooed. "I'd be really good for you. I promise. Come with me, and I'll show you."

"Er, no thanks," Draco sneered, and inched his way towards the library section where Harry and the others had just disappeared. "You're not my type."

"How can you say that?" Ginny launched herself after him, and attached herself to his forearm. "I think we should become better acquainted, so that you can get to know me."

"I don't want to know you; you're not my mate."

"How do you know that I'm not your mate?"

"Because I just know, alright," Draco fumed, and rapidly walked forwards.

"Listen to me, Draco," Ginny followed him, still not letting go of the Veela's arm. "I know you don't like me because I'm Ron's little sister. But I'm not all that bad, really, just look at me. I'm rather pretty, if I may say so myself. And we would make such a good couple. Can't you see it? You're so handsome and rich..."

"Ginevra fucking Weasley, may I ask if you are after my ass or my fortune?" Draco was annoyed. "Because I tell you, you're wasting your time. My ass already belongs to my mate, and even my fortune could not save your family from bankruptcy."

"That was quite a harsh thing to say, Malfoy," Harry's amused voice echoed from the other side of the bookshelf that was separating them.

"Thank goodness I found you," Draco all but hastened to the Gryffindor. Then he pointed his finger at Ginny, who was still hanging from his arm. "This woman is insufferable."

"Ginny!" Ron gaped. "Let go of him!"

"I will not!" Ginny only tightened her grip of Malfoy. "I love him! I will seduce him before this day is out, and I don't want to hear anything about it from you. Or maybe you're jealous?"

"Yes! NO! Ginny, let go of him now!" Ron took a couple of steps closer. "Or I'll make you!"

"I'd like to see you try."

Draco and Harry stood still, watching the strange exchange with fascination and disgust. Draco had the sinking feeling that the day would turn even worse than what it already was. Wasn't it enough for one day, to find out that his mate didn't think he was lovable? Obviously not, since he was now molested by two freckle-faced Weasels who were nearly ripping each other's heads off just for fighting over him. Draco briefly considered if he should slit his wrists here and now and end it all before he would have to suffer from any kind of physical damage the Weasley department might be capable of inflicting.

"Ginny, I swear, I'll tell mum if you don't let him go right now!" Ron continued his heated argument with Ginny. "You're too young to have relationships."

"I'm already sixteen!" Ginny protested. "And besides, parental advice coming from you is a bit disturbing, seeing as you need constant tending from Hermione and Harry yourself, in order to survive even through this bloody school!"

"That's not fucking true!" Ron growled, and stepped right next to Draco and Ginny. "I've been taking care of you ever since you were born, Ginny! I think I know a little bit more about this world than what you could ever imagine! Remember my adventures with Harry! I know a lot of good shit. Malfoy?"

Draco was very surprised to being addressed by Ron so unexpectedly. "Huh?"

"Leave my little sister alone."

"Fine by me!" Draco tried to disentangle himself from the girl. "I don't fucking want her!"

"No, I understand you are more interested in the male population," Ron smirked. "So... How about it?"

"Er, um, what?" Draco paled, when Ron slithered his arm around his waist. "Weasley, get your hands off me."

"Ginny may be a good little cocksucker, but I can outshine her any time," Ron wriggled his brows.

Both Draco and Harry's eyes widened at this horrible, lust-dripping comment.

"This is my worst nightmare coming true," Draco squeaked, and tried to lunge behind Harry. However, his left arm was still in Ginny's firm clutch, and Ron held him from the right one. He was trapped. "Harry!"

The Boy-Who-Lived finally seemed to wake up from his shock. "Ron, Ginny, this is enough!" he hissed. "Let go of him!"

"No," both the Weasleys chorused.

"He's not your type, anyways!" Harry went to pry Ginny's fingers apart. "You'll so regret this later, when you're out of the reach of his influence."

"That's not true," Ginny seethed, and slapped Harry angrily across the face. "I've had eyes on him for two years, already!"

"WHAT?" Ron shouted. "You little slut!"

Harry massaged his stinging cheek, and glared at them both. "I swear to you, if you don't stop this mass stupidity right now, I will hex you. No matter if you are my family or not."

"Oh yeah?" Ron charged. "Well if you make even one move towards your wand, you'll find out what my fist tastes like!"

No-one of the Gryffindors saw the flare of rage flash in Draco's silver eyes. Threatening a Veela's mate wasn't the wisest thing one could do, actually.

"Ginny, it would be better, if you weren't here for this," Harry said. "Things might get quite nasty."

"I'm not going anywhere," she raised her chin defiantly.

"I don't want to see you get hurt," Harry pleaded. "And I promise, I'll give you another chance with Malfoy later."

Ginny looked into Harry's eyes, and something inside her cracked. "Fine!" she spat, and marched out of the library.

"What did you do to her!" Ron raged, balling his fists. "Did you use Imperio on her, or what?"

"No, I didn't!" Harry yelled. "Maybe she was just clever enough to leave on her own! After all, she knows that when you're out of the picture, she has one competitor less!"

"What makes you so sure that you'll win this?" Ron laughed, a maniacal grin spreading across his face. "I'm twice as tall as you. Just give up, mate."

"You may be taller," Harry snarled. "But I'm twice as clever as you."

Ron's arm swung, and Harry got a vile strike on his lower abdomen. Harry doubled over, and coughed. "Fuck you, Ron!"

Ron was laughing so hard that he did not see Harry plunge towards him. Harry's head collided with Ron's stomach, and the red-head flew on his back on the floor. Unfortunately, Harry fell right along with him.

A strangling-and-kicking -flavoured fist-fight ensued, during which both boys rolled on the floor and tried to hurt each other with any possible means. Draco stood silently on the side, watching his mate defending him from the freckle-faced monster. He smiled a sad smile, thinking about Harry and how self-sacrificing the other boy really was. Harry didn't love him, hell, he didn't even like him, and yet here he was, fighting his best friend because he, Draco Malfoy, was in danger.

Ron's newest blow hit Harry in the jaw, and a crashing sound indicated that something had been broken. The fine hair on Draco's neck stood up, and his Veela instincts surfaced like a furious tidal wave. No-one, absolutely no-one would hurt his mate. To hell with Dumbledore's advice to keep his powers in check; he would not watch how Ronald Weasley manhandled his life companion. The canvas of his robes started ripping from the back, where two black wings sprouted out of his shoulder blades.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" he shouted, with a voice that echoed through the whole library, bouncing from the walls back to him ten-folded. "Ronald Bilius Fucking Weasley, I suggest you get your hands off Harry and get the hell out of here!"

Draco grabbed Ron from the neck, prying him apart from Harry's whimpering form. Harry was holding his jaw and coughing up blood, which made the half-Veela growl angrily in his throat, and shake the horrified Ron in his grasp viciously. Ron's eyes were almost impossibly wide when felt the choking feeling in his throat, and looked up at the menacing creature in front of him. His voice was quivering with fright as he struggled against the Veela's tight grip.

"Don't hurt me!" he pleaded, his face twisting into a disgusted, scared frown. "Put me down!"

Draco flapped his magnificent wings a couple of times, and tilted his head. His radiant white hair seemed to be even more outstanding now, when the lightning bolts outside made it flash with ethereal sparkles, made it glow like the brightest of the Patronus spells. And in the furious eyes, the lake of quicksilver seemed to be swirling angrily along with the thunder. Draco smiled, and the eerie smirk revealed a row of sharp, tiny teeth that made Ron nearly wet his trousers with fear.

"Put you down?" the silky voice sent chills down Ron's spine. "I don't think so."

"Please, no!" the Gryffindor red-head wailed. "I'll do anything, just don't kill me!"

"Don't be silly, Weasley, I'm not allowed to kill," Draco's voice was icy. "At least, not while we're still at school. But, I have a good memory."

Draco emphasized his words by hauling Ron roughly against one of the library's shelves. Despite his tinier structure, he was surprisingly strong and capable of causing harm when being in his Veela form. Ron's head collided with a thud against the old books, and particles of grey dust spilled out from between their covers, dancing merrily around his reddened face, blending in with the prominent freckles.

"Y-you wouldn't dare try to kill me, Malfoy, you'd be locked up in Azkaban in no time, just like your father was!"

Draco pressed his nails maliciously against the tender flesh of Ron's throat. "In case you haven't heard, there is a wizarding law that says a Veela can escape a murder in one special occasion. Would you like me to try it out and see what happens?"

"N-n-no," gurgled Ron.

"Very well. Then I suggest you learn how to behave. And by the way... never touch Harry again. Do you understand? Do not touch him, under any circumstances, not even with a fingertip! Because if you do... Well. Let's just say that you don't want to find out."

The Gryffindor nodded vigorously. "Y-yeah. Okay. J-just let me go, please!"

Draco let his grip fall, and Ron stumbled down on the library floor, accidentally kicking Harry's leg in the process. He sprung to his feet, hoping that Malfoy hadn't noticed, and staggered hastily away from the black-winged monster, never glancing behind. Only when he reached the library doors, he turned to look over his shoulder one last time.

What he saw made his heart pound more rapidly. The creature that once used to be Malfoy was now kneeling down beside his best friend and spreading his enormous, night-black wings wide open. Ron watched in fascinated silence how the half-Veela brought his left extension gently down and covered Harry's shivering body from view.

Ron decided to flee.

Harry moaned, and carefully cracked his bleary eyes open. He was feeling horrible, his stomach and ribs aching, but most of all his jaw. Ron had punched him quite hard, and he could still taste the iron of blood on his tongue. Were his lips and nose still bleeding? Harry didn't know, but he sure as hell was choking in his own blood. He only wished that he hadn't lost any teeth; that would have been nasty.

He rolled on his aching side and concentrated on the angry voices that echoed in the library, their sources arguing just a couple of meters before him. Without his glasses, he couldn't see all that well, but he recognized the two young men as Draco and Ron, mainly from one's red hair and the other's dark, flapping wings. A cold feeling hit his stomach and he began to search for his glasses frantically from the floor; he needed to get up and help Draco out of Ron's grip.

He couldn't find them, and he silently cursed in his mind.

The next moment, he heard a loud thump and someone's foot collided accidentally with his knee. Harry gasped with pain and fright. Had that been Draco? Somehow he couldn't stand the idea that the blond boy would get himself hurt. Not anymore, not now that he had gotten a glimpse of Draco's true personality. He knew Draco hadn't always been the most pleasant of companions, but at least he now knew that Draco wasn't that bad of a person, either. He had become to notice that Draco Malfoy was not evil. No... He was actually a sensitive and insecure young man with a wild streak of cowardice and fanaticism that often forced him to defend himself with coldness and arrogance. In other words, Harry thought that Draco was quite messed up in the brain, but still carried something good in his heart, something that was only waiting to be discovered.

Salty tears were trying to force their way out of Harry's tear-ducts, and he hysterically wished that Draco was alright. He wished that he could see that Draco was alright. Where the hell were his glasses?

He recoiled when a sudden darkness enveloped him, making everything around him disappear. He blinked a couple of times in surprise, trying yet again to see. A swish of gentle wind brushed past him, making his hair wave so that the scar on his forehead was revealed from beneath his black tresses. What was happening?

Harry raised his hand carefully and reached out, tentatively touching the blackness. His fingers came in contact with something smooth and soft, something surprisingly warm and comforting. Sighing with relief and understanding, he turned his head to his left, and saw Draco looking down at him.

The Veela muttered a silent incantation, and Harry's eyes rapidly began to distinguish more and more details around him, allowing him to see the anxiety that was shining from Draco's large, grey eyes that were looking straight in his own.

"Harry, are you alright?" the half-Veela asked, his voice a mere whisper.

Harry gulped, tasting accidentally the blood, as Draco brought his face abnormally close to his, trailing a warm nose along Harry's cheek. What was the Slytherin doing? Inhaling his scent? But at least Draco seemed not to be hurt. Clearly, Draco had survived Ron's attempts of molesting him, and that was what really mattered at the moment.

"Harry, say something," Draco urged, his breath lingering on Harry's lips. Faintly, Harry realised that he smelled of summer; of mint and fresh leaves of birch tree.

"Harry?" the voice began to turn really alarmed now.

Harry was confused, mesmerized and... and in terrible pain.

"Mhh cnnt tlk," he grimaced, touching his jaw lightly.

"Then don't talk," the half-Veela above him whispered, with an apparent relief. "I will heal you. Just... just close your eyes and lay still. I will try to make the pain go away."

"Mkay."

"Close your eyes," Draco repeated, and after a little hesitation, Harry obeyed. "Now, this is going to feel a bit... strange."

"Mff. Mm dnnt grr," Harry opened his eyes again and glared.

Draco sighed, and leaned down. Tentatively, he brushed his lips against Harry's neck and chin. Nervously, he then examined Harry's eyes that had gone as wide as saucers. He was relieved that the Gryffindor didn't seem to protest much otherwise, and that there was no clear hatred visible in those emerald depths. Encouraged by this, he finally flickered out his tongue, and began to lick long, wet trails along Harry's jaw and neck, ending each and every one of them with a gentle kiss.

Harry closed his eyes and shuddered. Malfoy's touches felt wonderful, although the intimate way the Veela was administering them made him also feel a little nervous. A tickling sensation followed each and every stroke of his tongue, leaving completely unblemished and healed skin tissue behind. The sharp Veela teeth nibbled at his lower lip, however not breaking it but healing it; and Harry was again lost in the moment. And when Draco kissed his nose, licking away the blood and healing the bleeding with his talented lips, Harry found himself suddenly so aroused that he needed to cover his state with his hands, removing their original grip of the warm, dragon-like wings.

"Do you feel any better?" Draco asked, his voice a little husky.

"Yeah," Harry grinned, and blushed. "Thanks."

Draco smiled hesitantly back at him, and then transformed back to his human form with an anguished groan. The wings retreated back to his shoulder blades, and his teeth became normal again. When it was all over, he realised that he was still laying half on top of the Gryffindor, and briefly wondered if he should move away. After all, Harry had made it quite clear earlier that day that he wasn't interested in him. Why to keep up wasted hopes? Draco looked away from the green, soul-piercing eyes of his secret mate and made a move to stand up, his heart heavy and sad.

Harry, however, didn't want him to go. Not so quickly. "Wait," he whispered, grabbing Draco's hand with his own. "Wait."

Harry felt Draco's hand tremble in his own, and he squeezed it harder.

"Draco..."

"What in the name of Merlin is going on in here?"

Both boys jumped up with fright and turned to face the surly library keeper, usually known as Madam Pince, or in Harry and Draco's mind, the Filthy Voyeur.

"None of your damn business," Draco snapped, irritated.

"Ah, young Mr. Malfoy, so happy to see you again," Pince cooed. "May I help you with something?"

"Yes, well, you would make me very pleased if you just, say, disappeared?" he said, flashing his most charming smile. "Please?"

"Oh, but of course!" Pince giggled like a little girl, and waddled away. "Just call me if you need anything."

Draco watched the old lady go with disgust.

"That is so sick," Harry muttered, leaning his head absent-mindedly against Draco's shoulder, feeling suddenly very tired. "When is this mess going to clear up, I wonder?"

"I don't know," Draco sighed, his voice low and miserable. "I really don't know."

...TBC...