Hey sorry it took so long-A levels and all.
Promise to thank everyone personally in the next chapter.
Harry didn't see Malfoy again for a couple of days. Not that he noticed of course, it was just strange not to spar with him at least once a day, but as know one else seemed to notice his absence Harry kept it to himself.
The other thing Harry kept firmly to himself was his increasingly wondering eyes when it came to males. For some reason showering had suddenly become a turn on for him, especially if it was with other boys say, after Quidditch practice.
But hey it was natural wasn't it? He was a horny male and if you squinted boys weren't all that different to girls. Were they?
There was blood – lots of blood. On the pretty floral tablecloth, spattered up the pristine cream coloured walls and seeping into the once honey coloured floorboards.
There were the terrified and pained screams of a women coming from the next room and a man lay lifeless across a splintered coffee table.
"We have learned nothing! Incompetent fools can you not extract the relevant piece of information from a few muggles? QUIET!"
The screaming was silenced in an instant and he inhaled deeply savouring the scent of blood.
"Finnish up here and report back to me" He turned and his eyes fell upon a small helpless little girl in the corner, aged about five or so her eyes were wide and her hands shaking as they clutched at her tiny knees but she made not a sound.
"Kill the child." He said before the world faded into black.
Harry awoke with a start, a terrible headache radiating outwards from his scar to cover his skull.
Shaking his head carefully to clear it from his vision, Harry lifted the cover off of his damp and shaking body.
Grabbing his invisibility cloak he quietly crossed the room to tiptoe down the stairs, through the common room and out of the portrait.
The halls of Hogwarts were deadly silent giving Harry no distraction from the constant screaming in his head. Pulling his cloak tighter around him he made his way to Dumbledor's office as quickly as he could.
Malfoy sat in his alcove, staring quietly out of the window. His father was disappointed in him and he hated that. He loved his father dearly and wished he wasn't such a disappointment to him. Although his father discouraged all contact with Potter because he was a target, he did not see the harm in a little competition. Especially as it would still prove his loyalty to the dark lord even though he had no plans to join his ranks.
His father had impressed this upon him from the start. Even if he did want to become a death eater (which he didn't) the decision was out of his hands.
His father had joined Voldemort before Harry Potter's time and had fallen in love with the man. Malfoy didn't blame him, after all Tom Riddle had been especially beautiful. The love affair was passionate and torrid, but like all good things it had to come to an end.
Voldemort grew power mad and obsessed with the idea of immortality. Eventually of course his run in with the helpless child that was Harry Potter had put him out of the picture, only for him to return fourteen years later, ugly and twisted, his sanity deteriorated beyond all reason.
His father was still in love, Malfoy knew this, but he was in love with a memory and the being of today was not someone his father wanted Malfoy anywhere near.
But still Malfoy was brought up correctly, i.e. Purebloods good, Mudbloods,
mixed bloods and muggles bad.
Which meant he should be able to beat Potter hands down. After all Potter's mother was a mudblood, he hung out with mudbloods and muggle lovers so why couldn't Malfoy beat him?
His thoughts were interrupted as he heard a noise behind him. Pretending he had heard nothing he carried on staring out the window as if nothing was wrong. Ah there it was again, a rustle of cloth and the pad bare feet, very quiet yet Malfoy heard it.
Looking at the reflection of the hall in the window Malfoy discerned that there appeared to be know one about, but this didn't fool him. His godfather was a spy for fuck's sake and Malfoy spent a lot of time with his godfather/potions master/head of house.
"I know your there." He said cautiously turning around seeing as his back was covered as he was sitting by a window.
"Show yourself" He said his wand aimed where he thought the person was.
"Show yourself! Finite incantum!" Nothing happened. "Wingardiam Leviosa!"
Despite the fact he'd prepared himself for the possibility of the intruder being under an invisibility cloak, it still shocked him to see Harry Potter revealed from the feet up as the invisibility cloak flew off him into Malfoy's hand.
"You!" He snarled, "Haven't you got better things to do then stalk me Potter? Is that why you keep showing up whenever I'm around? Fancy me do you?"
For a moment Harry looked startled and the then snarled back.
"God no! Get over yourself Malfoy, had you not thought that perhaps I was minding my own business and in fact just going to slip past you?"
For some inexplicable reason Malfoy felt hurt that Harry hadn't even hesitated in denying any attachment to the blond.
"And you? Prey what are you doing so far from Slytherin territory Malfoy?"
Malfoy sneered, "Unlike you Potter I don't need to waste an ingenious and rare magical artefact trying to avoid a caretaker. There are other methods."
Harry was curious despite himself, he was beginning to forget all about his vision and focus instead on the adrenaline beginning to course through him from the fight with the captivating boy in front of him.
"Giving sexual favours to Filch now are we?" Harry asked brow raised, ignoring the part of him that shied away from the thought that beauty such as the boy in front of him could be tainted and marred by such ugliness as Filch.
"Why you…how dare you insinuate that I…" Malfoy spluttered in outright anger as Harry laughed at him.
"Speechless Malfoy? Why what would dear death eater daddy do upon finding out that his arse licking son was silenced by the boy who lived?"
That did it, Malfoy was on him before Harry had a chance to blink, they collapsed to the ground and Malfoy began hitting Harry repeatedly in the face before he had a chance to recover from colliding with the ground so forcefully.
He managed to get about three hits in before Harry rolled them over so he was on top, effectively straddling the other boy and hitting him back whilst at the same time trying to will his body not to react to the close contact with images of Dumbledore in a bath of whipped cream as at the same time he denied he was even in danger of getting turned on.
Soon all thoughts of arousal were forgotten as pain took over. They were punching, biting, kicking and screaming at each other. Blood was lightly staining quite a lot of available skin and bruises were staring to appear in quite a few places on both boys.
Malfoy managed to get the upper hand on Harry once again and pin his arms over his head.
Looking down he gazed into questioning green eyes, taking in the messy hair, wonky glasses and mussed night robes.
Something stirred in his memory, a dress shop, Madame Malkins Dress robe shop, a younger Harry Potter, hair and robes mussed from fittings and measurements. Glasses slightly wonky – all encompassing wave of awe and admiration and…
His eyes widened as he again took in his enemy.
Jesus Christ, Holy Mary and Merlin…I loved this boy!
Hehehehehe
