Disclaimer: All of these characters belong to the brilliant J. K. Rowling. I am merely borrowing them, and no money is being made.
Warning: This is an R-rated Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy SLASH fic. If you don't like H/D or male/male pairings in general, do not read it.
The Fairy Ballet
The summer had been very "educational" for Draco. His father had felt that it was due time for a Malfoy of fifteen years to learn the finer points of personal manipulation and sexual seduction. After all, being able to control people through the use of cold, calculating psychology was at the heart of the Dark Arts; and what better way to deliver severe emotional trauma and cause permanent scars to the psyche, than to toy with someone's emotions and twist their desires, leaving nothing but a distorted, crumpled shell of the person who once was.
Draco had to admit that he had been very uncomfortable being the one-on-one recipient of his father's silky mental coiling, the whole sordid experience had seemed bizarre and incestuous; but, fortunately, he didn't have to endure very much of that.
The majority of the summer's educational process ended up being the things that he learned from his salacious succubus nanny, Mephista. With her devilish talent for all things perverse and sexual, she had thoroughly driven the necessary skills into his permanent memory. She had made the dance of psychological coercion and physical pleasure followed by emotional deprivation and ultimate humiliation into a graceful waltz on Draco's ever-expanding repertoire of Dark Arts.
Lucius had even ordered Mephista to Polyjuice herself into various Hogwarts students and teachers...of both genders .... to give Draco a better feel, so to speak, of how to exercise sexual control over others "in the field"as Lucius tended to refer to it.
Draco didn't even bother to ask how his father had gotten hairs from Pansy Parkinson, Susan Bones, Blaise Zabini and Blaise's mother ZaaZaa Zabini, not to mention Professors Snape (Urgh! That one didn't go well at all!) and Madam Pince (who turned out to be a surprising turn-on).
Draco's greatest surprise and delight, however, came on the last day of summer, as he watched Mephista drop a few raven colored hairs into the Polyjuice Potion, and no sooner could he wonder just who he would be shagging today, she downed the potion, and turned into none other than a certain green-eyed Gryffindor.
The experience had been more than memorable, to say the least.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Now, sitting in yet another interminable Friday afternoon History of Magic lesson listening to Professor Binns drone on and on about Merpeople governments and the Atlantis Treaty of 5120 BC, Draco was itching to give his well-honed skills the test that he thought they deserved.
In the month that he had been back at Hog warts, he had definitely put it around. He had successfully gotten into the knickers of every Slytherin female, usually two and three at a time; all of which he now made feel like unredeemable whores. On top of that, he had even managed an occasional suck or gratuitous hand-job from several of the supposed heterosexual Slytherin males who were now fervently questioning their sexual orientation, and secretly reading books such as How to Know if You are Gay and Does Once a Sucker Always a Fudge-Packer Make?
Yes, life was a dandy!
The Malfoys positively rejected the widely popular cliché that "absolute power corrupts absolutely" in favor of the more empowering mantra of "absolute power is a planned result". Having used his newly cultured seduction skills so wantonly since returning to Hogwarts had, however, only whetted his appetite for more formidable conquests.
The question on his crafty Malfoy mind at the present moment was whom would he set his sites on next. Was there no one at Hogwarts who could present a challenge for him?
And so the question played over and over in his mind. Huffelpuff girls were far too easy, due to their friendly nature and giving spirit. The only Hufflepuff boy who was desirable enough was Michael Corner, and he was currently shagging the Weaslette.
Ravenclaw girls were fairly well educated in matters of basic human psychology and would probably be able to see through his façade. This might prove to be a titillating challenge; but unfortunately, Ravenclaw girls were also quite homely as a general rule, and Draco had always had an eye for grace and beauty. Stephen Cornfoot was the only Ravenclaw boy who was attractive enough with whom to give it a go. Draco made a mental note to look into that situation.
Gryffindor was a house that he hadn't tapped into to at all yet. The thought of that last strange, yet indescribably erotic summer day drifted back into his mind before he judiciously dismissed the thought of getting off with ANY of the Gryffindor boys. Potter was definitely on his "shaggable" list, but he was the only one in the school who seemed truly unattainable. The rest of the boys in that house were just insufferable bastards. But maybe Finnigan....
The Gryffindor girls were another story, entirely, though. Those girls were wild, and always eager to take the plunge into something new, yet they were not naïve or easily manipulated; and there were several very delectable little crumpets that Draco could just picture moaning his name in pleasure. Of course, if he did choose to partake of a Gryffindor, he would need to be discreet enough so that his father wouldn't hear about it, or he would have to make it look like he was initiating a diabolical plan of some sort.
Speaking of delectable little crumpets, who would he take advantage of first? Lavender Brown? Pavarti Patil? As fate would have it, Hermione Granger, sitting diagonally in front of Draco, happened at that moment to drop her quill, and absent mindedly stood up and bent over to retrieve it; affording Draco a generous view of her long legs and other obvious womanly endowments.
He thought it strange that before that moment, he had never stopped to consider what a shapely bum the Mudblood had. Her appearance had come a long way since first year. She was tall, slim, had a perfect complexion, tiny waist, long, lean, tan legs (as revealed by her enticingly short gray pleated wool skirt); curvy hips and rather large breasts, which were now very apparent through the thin white cotton of her well-tailored school uniform blouse.
She had taken off her outer robe, which coincidentally appeared to be very nicely made, and was of a superior and very pricey material, much like Draco's own robes. Her brandy colored hair was long and sleek now, hanging nearly to her waist, and when he leaned over closer to her, he could smell that it was scented of jasmine.
When had she become so sexy and refined? Draco mused, then after a few moments realized that his nether region seemed to be even more attracted to the Mudblood than he previously would have believed possible. This seemed to be the answer to his query.
Now how to go about this? Draco mused.
Later, when class was dismissed, he couldn't help but watch her leave the classroom. Her little pleated skirt gently swayed with each graceful step she took, and Draco noticed that her legs appeared to be quite shapely, topped by a well-proportioned bottom that was tight and sassy.
Harry just so happened to be following Hermione out of the classroom, and clearly saw the blatant look of sexual appreciation in Draco's eyes and the evil conniving smile that accompanied it.
Harry lowered his chin and cut his eyes at Draco, giving him the most threatening look that he could muster from behind his round spectacles and messy hair; before straightening and tossing his head back, putting his hand on the small of Hermoine's back to escort her from the classroom in what Draco realized was a most territorial manner.
When Draco's eyes met Harry's, it was all that Draco could do to not look like a fox cornered by hounds. Draco's brain was instantly permeated with thoughts of how the Polyjuice Harry had looked in the throws of ecstasy. Now Harry's piercing emerald gaze seemed to see right through him, laying his soul bare. In true Slytherin manner, however, Draco managed a proper smirk directed at the Boy-Who-Lived, letting the golden boy know that no Malfoy could be withered by a mere stare.
Potter.
Granger.
And even Weasley would be devastated by Draco playing the Mudblood.
This was just too rich!
Walking back toward the Slytherin dungeons, Draco had to struggle to control his glee.
Oh joy! This added a whole new dimension to the thrill of this chase-- just the kind of excitement Draco had been craving! He could bed Granger and reek havoc within the Golden Trio, demoralize Weasley and finally best Potter! Why hadn't he thought of this before?
---------------------------------------------------------
Harry had spent the summer trying to come to terms with Cedric's death, Voldemort's return, seeing his parent's during the Priori Incantatum episode, dealing with the Dursley's, and trying to sort out his malice (or whatever that feeling was) for Draco Malfoy.
Cedric was gone. There was nothing he could do about it, nor could he have done anything about it during the tournament. He sorted this out in his head fairly quickly; but somewhere, deep down inside, he made a silent promise to Cedric to avenge him for the senseless murder.
Since that first day in Diagon Alley, when Mr. Ollivander told him about "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named", Harry had always known, on some level that there would be a day of reckoning for the bloody bastard who had taken his parents from him. It was just apparent now that that day was drawing nearer. So be it. He would do everything necessary to prepare for the battle that lay ahead.
The Dursleys were their same old selves, but fortunately they gave Harry a lot more space this summer. After cleaning up the daily breakfast dishes, Harry was free to go out and do as he pleased until dinner, and then could go out again until bedtime. This had proven to be fun on most occasions. Dudley hung around with most of the boys in the neighborhood, so they all naturally hated Harry. As a pleasant alternative, however, being about to turn fifteen, and also being quite good looking, Harry had quickly been befriended by the neighborhood Muggle girls.
The weeks of the summer passed by while Harry learned to play Spin the Bottle, Shy, Truth or Dare, and Twister with five of the fifteen-year-old girls in his neighbor hood. He had been well indoctrinated on just what constituted the perfect kiss, how girls want boys to treat them, and one of the girls had even gone all the way with him, much to his surprise and delight.
Oh, and of course the dancing.... Since the Yule Ball, it seemed like every girl at Hogwarts had taken it upon themselves to teach him to dance (or was that just their excuse to get him to the Astronomy tower?), and now these muggle girls were even further determined to turn him into a veritable John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever.
However much fun his escapades with the fairer sex had been, though, Harry found himself occasionally laying in the soft grass behind Aunt Petunia's flowerbed letting his mind wander, wondering why the summer's erotic fun had not been as thrilling as his mates back at Hogwarts had made it out to be. Unfortunately, every single time he gave his mind enough space to wander to where it willed, Harry found that his thoughts landed on a certain silver-eyed Slytherin.
Since seeing Draco dance so gracefully and elegantly with Pansy Parkinson the previous December, Harry's thoughts toward The Slimy Git had taken on a new intensity of anger and loathing. So what if the spoiled little rich boy could do something as common as dancing better than he could, after all, Harry reasoned, he was The Boy Who Lived! But why did The Creep have to look so damn good while he was doing it?
Harry was haunted by Draco's voice playing over and over in his head. "Sure you can handle that broomstick, Potter?" "That dragon's going to make toast out of you, Potter." "Do be careful not to trip over your shoelaces, Potter." "Watch out for the Grindylows down there in the lake, Potter." "Enjoy your summer with that Muggle family of yours, Potter." It seemed that Malfoy was positively stalking Harry just to be there to deliver sarcastic mother-hen-like remarks at the worst possible moments!
How was one to deal with such torment!? Harry wondered. I've spent the past fourteen years without anyone mothering me, and I certainly don't need that hateful pureblood bigot trying to do so now.
Why does the hateful, pampered prick always have to be there, at every turn, to make my life miserable? Harry wondered
Is that jealousy that I'm feeling? Harry wondered to himself. If it is jealousy, then who am I jealous of? Malfoy or that pug-nosed pureblood Slytherin bitch who pissed me off so badly by dancing with him in the first place? ..............Oops, did I just think that?
Harry had noticed when Malfoy came back from Christmas Holidays that a new awareness between the two of them had developed. Whenever Harry entered a room, he automatically scanned it for Malfoy. This, he reasoned, must be what mortal enemies do -- a survival instinct of sorts. He noticed Malfoy doing the same, and as long as the two of them were in the same room, he seemed to be able to "sense" Malfoy's whereabouts at all times.
By the end of the year, when they crossed paths at King's Cross Station, Harry didn't even know how to react to the thought of not seeing Malfoy for the entire summer. He reasoned that it must have been relief, or something.
Harry had been back at the Dursley's for two weeks when the dreams began.
Wet lips... soft skin... hot breath........... Soft silvery hair brushing against his cheek... and neck. And shoulder... and chest.... Hot kisses trailing down his stomach.... Then just as he would explode in his pajamas, he would see those two gray soul-penetrating eyes.
---------------------------------------------------
Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. One who barely survived childhood without his natural parents, and one who survived childhood in spite of his natural parents. At that moment Destiny herself started yet another wheel turning in the Fate of Harry Potter.
--------------------------------------------------
Draco's father had drilled into the deepest fathoms of Draco's brain the need for careful calculation and the necessity to always avoid impulsive behavior. Due to this ingrained character trait, Draco took great pleasure in spending that evening after dinner carefully meting out his plan of attack along with counteractive sub-plans to be prepared for all the possible extenuating circumstances and effects. This was just like a great game of chess, and Draco planned on getting the entire Golden Trio into checkmate!
As best that he could figure, if he could score with Granger, both Potter and Weasley would see it as possibly the hardest blow that Draco could deal to either of them. Weasley seemed besotted by her and Harry just seemed down right territorial of her.
Were they both shagging her? Draco wondered.
First Draco surmised that he would have to find out if she was a virgin or not. This would give him a better idea if she was warming the bed of on or both of her best friends. It would also give him a better idea of how to chat her up. Virgins wanted promises and sweet nothings; more promiscuous girls seemed to respond to heat and passion and to just being down-right turned on. Draco knew that heat and passion were his forte, but Mephista had taught him how to deal with virgins as well. He decided he would secretly perform a manifesto innocentia charm to find out about the Mudblood's cherry status at his first possible convenience.
How would Potter and Weasley react? What action would they take when they found out that their precious Her-mi-o-ne, though all her determination and intelligence had not been able to resist The One And Only Draco Malfoy? Draco played over every possible reaction he thought they might give.
Each time he played it over in his mind, one thing was certain.
Even though all of the contempt that Draco harbored toward Harry made him want to carry this plan through in the worst sort of way, he knew that messing with Potter's friends was a terrible travesty; and to make Harry that extremely angry could be immensely dangerous.
Yes, I will definitely have to proceed with extreme caution, Draco deliberated to himself.
There must be some way to burn both Potty and the Weasel, yet make them less likely to take momentous retaliation against me. Draco pondered at great length.
Not to mention the fact that Granger would most likely avoid any attempts I make to even have a conversation with her. How am I going to get a chance to chat her up?
With his newly acquired dark skills, Draco knew that all he needed was to get her alone, and get her talking to him civilly. It was just getting to that point that was the major challenge.
On and on the possibilities played over in his head, and the dynamics of the endeavor kept Draco awake late into the night, until he finally decided to sleep on the matter.
The Mudblood......... dancing the Dance of the Seven Veils.......... beckoning him to come hither and partake of her womanly charms... his lips meet hers.... His eyes close for a moment...and then...upon opening them...he sees Potter's green eyes staring back at him............. He's kissing Potter...Harry...their hands are all over each other's bodies...Draco's own excitement is reaching a feverish pitch.... And then....aaaahhhhhhh.
Draco awoke from his dream still shaking, and reached to his nightstand for his wand.
"Scourgify" Draco cleaned up the mess that has occurred, and realizing that sleep would not return easily, began searching in his trunk for that bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey he saved just for occasions like this.
Damn it, I'm a Malfoy. Potter is not supposed to be my favorite fantasy. Draco lamented over his potent beverage for the next hour until he was drunk enough to fall into a peaceful sleep.
------------------------------------------------------------
"He was, too" barked Harry
"Why would he be interested in Hermione, he's got every Slytherin girl in the castle begging to keep his prissy perfect prefect bed warm." whined Ron, "and besides. 'Mione hates him!"
"I know, but I'm going to keep a close eye on him when he's around her just the same." added Harry "and I suggest you do the same."
"Very well." agreed Ron, and he and Harry went downstairs to meet Hermione in the common room before breakfast.
As the three of them entered the Great Hall, it appeared to be a usual Saturday morning. Many of the students were already out by the lake, or on visits to Hogsmead. As they passed the Slytherin table, Hermione was explaining how she had the day all planned out. First she would work on her Advanced Arithmancy homework, then study for her Transfiguration OWLS, then prepare an action plan for the newly formed DA and finally knit some more hats for the house elves.
Harry and Ron were actually looking forward to Angelina's rigorous Quidditch training.
As they enjoyed butter pastries and tea, Harry noticed Draco, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, gazing across the room in what Harry deemed was the general vicinity of Hermione's back as though he were deep in thought - plotting something, no doubt.
That settled it, Harry knew now that the fair-haired Slytherin was up to something from the devious look on his pasty face. He nudged Ron and directed his attention to Malfoy, confirming the earlier conversation about Draco and Hermione.
"Let's just go over there and bloody him up a bit" growled Ron "It'll be fun."
"Just think of what Umbridge would do to us if we beat up her Golden Child" retorted Harry "we would be expelled for certain."
"Then. ...What do you suggest?" asked Ron.
"What are you two babbling on about?" Hermione startled the puzzled duo.
Harry stammered that they had been discussing something about Quidditch and the subject was dismissed.
After breakfast, Harry and Ron made off for the Quidditch pitch for their usual Saturday practice, and Hermione headed to the library.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the hallway around the corner from the library, Draco quietly took out his wand and held it flat in his outstretched hand and muttered the manifesto innocentia charm. The charm would make his wand glow white if he was in the presence of a virgin, and it would glow red if the nearest person to him was not a virgin. Sometimes the wand would even grow hot or spin uncontrollably if the person it was informing about was extremely sexually active. He returned the wand to its sheath that was sewn into his robe, and made his way toward the door of the library.
Just as he went to open the door he noticed that his wand was getting very warm and began spinning in it's sheath; then at that moment Professor McGonnagal exited the library and brushed past him, billowing off down the hallway in her vibrant emerald green velvet robes.
Sometimes one really can have too much information, Draco thought, as he tried to wipe the who and why questions about Professor McGonnagle's lovers out of his mind!
Draco walked into the library and immediately noticed Hermione sitting in her usual spot at far end of the long table, which ran down the center of the main room of the library.
This was going to be easy.
He perused several books absent mindedly as he casually made his way over to her general vicinity. He waited until no one else was near to draw into closer proximity to her, then opened up his robe and took a look inside.
------------------------------------------------------
Strolling toward the Great hall for lunch, Draco began solidifying his intentions for "Project Make-Them-All-Weep."
------------------------------------------------------
Angelina dismissed the rest of the team from Quidditch practice at lunchtime so that she could spend some one-on-one training time with Ron. She knew he could be great at Quidditch when he wasn't nervous, and she just needed to figure out how to make him more comfortable and self confident before the upcoming game. The fact that Ron became clumsy and tongue-tied every time her breasts jiggled, was giving her a sneaky idea of how to handle him.
Harry, unable to shake the uneasy feeling he had about the inexcusable way Malfoy had looked at Hermione, left the Quidditch pitch and went about looking for her to make certain that the git hadn't tried anything.
What is it that I don't want to happen here? Malfoy to not touch Hermione, or Hermione to not touch Malfoy? Harry pondered. The noble Gryffindor inside him immediately responded by reminding himself that he needed to protect his best friend. Deep in his subconscious, however, the Slytherin inside him was whispering a stealthy plan in Parsseltongue. Furthermore, Harry didn't even realize how closely his inner self was listening.
Harry knew better than to put anything past Malfoy, and had heard quite a lot about Malfoy's sordid affairs over the past month. He found Hermione in the Great hall having lunch with Lavender. The two girls were lightheartedly discussing whether or not Professor Snape and Madam Trelawney were intimately involved.
"You two need more things to fill out your time," interjected Harry as he joined the two of them at the Gryffindor table. As he got seated, a large tray of Chicken Wensleydale, a Hogwarts favorite, appeared before him, to his great pleasure.
"I have had quite a lot to fill out my morning, thank you very much," retorted Hermione. "How was Quidditch practice?"
"Exhausting, actually" Harry replied, letting out a great sigh of relief that he was finished practicing for the day. "Angelina wouldn't even let Ron come in for lunch. She had sandwiches delivered to the pitch so that they wouldn't lose any more practice time than absolutely necessary. She'll probably keep him out there all afternoon."
"That's terrible, Ron really needs to work on his Transfiguration homework, Professor McGonnagle was adamant about him learning how to do plant-to-reptile transfigurations!" Hermione sounded quite concerned.
"He'll have all day tomorrow to work on it," replied Harry.
"I hope he doesn't let Quidditch ruin his grades"Hermione worried the matter a bit more. Then adding a bit more cheerily, "At least you will be able to get some quality study time in."
After five years of Hermione's drastic attentiveness to studies, Harry knew better than to voice his reluctance; so He turned to Lavender and changed the subject.
The afternoon went by fairly quickly for Harry and Hermione who ended up studying together in the library, when just before dinner Ron (looking much worse for the wear) found them.
"There you two are" said Ron rather happily. "Sorry I didn't make it to your Saturday cram session, 'Mione"Ron stuttered guiltily, glancing at Harry to see if Harry had any clue what Angelina had been doing to him. Then he quickly added , maybe a bit too formally "I didn't think it was possible for anyone to be more obsessed about winning the Quidditch Cup than Oliver Wood, but Angelina has clearly gotten him beat," fixing Harry with a meaningful look.
"You must be completely exhausted" tutted Hermione. "You will be able to work on your Transfiguration homework for a bit won't you?"
Ron went a bit pale as he stammered, looking for any excuse he could manufacture "I was looking forward to turning in early tonight. Rough day," as he rolled his eyes at Hermione "You understand."
Harry interjected "We were just heading back to the Gryffindor Dormitory, to change for dinner. Tonight is Professor Flitwick's birthday, you know, and the other professors are putting on quite a party for him. They announced it at dinner in the Great Hall last night. I hear there will be a fairy ballet and fireworks out by the lake after dinner."
"Well, I guess I'll make it a point to stay up for that. It's always great fun to watch Madam Trelawney drink until she's tipsy enough to start doing table dances" laughed Ron. "It took both Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout to get her down from the Hufflepuff table last time.... Just a few more minutes and she would have had her knickers off for sure!"
The disgusted look on Hermione's face made Ron diminish a bit, and the three exited the library along with several other students who were all headed back to their dorms before the party.
--------------------------------------------------
This was Ron's first chance to wear his new designer midnight blue dress robes that Fred and George had bought him over the summer, and Harry wore a black Wizrahi silk shirt with leather pants under his new black dress cloak which had a stunning silver oak leaf closure.
Harry made several poses in front of his mirror admiring the outfit that he had bought at Madam Maulkin's, and he couldn't help but realize that this was an ensemble that even Malfoy couldn't belittle.
The Git had been in the forefront of his thoughts way too much. Harry was becoming irritated with himself for the increasingly personal nature of his feelings about Malfoy
Harry changed the train of thought in his mind by remembering that he knew he was going to have to do something to stop Malfoy from messing with Hermione in any way. Somehow Harry just knew what Malfoy's intentions were. Harry had with growing revulsion, observed the way Draco was seducing and screwing with the minds of so many of the students at Hogwarts. He could see that Draco had set his sites on Hermione from The Git's inadequately guarded facial expression after Transfiguration yesterday and than again this morning at breakfast, and he guessed that the Slimy Slytherin probably regarded her as a great challenge.
Harry decided that he knew what to do.
Due to a promise made among the trio in third year along with a fidelius potion that they had made and drunk, Harry knew that they could never interfere with each other's lovers of choice. If Harry made Draco his lover, then it would be impossible for Hermione to ever allow Draco to touch her due to the fidelius bound oath.
Yes, there was only one thing for Harry to do. Harry realized.
Bed Malfoy.
Harry's body tingled with excitement at the thought, even though his brain told him that this was by far the stupidest thing he had ever set out to do.
I'll just do what I have to do, Harry decided, then told himself that it would be best to make his move at the first possible moment.
The trio had agreed to meet in the common room to go to dinner and then out to the lake for the festivities together. When the two boys descended the staircase from the fifth year dorms, both Harry and Ron's attention perked noticeably when they saw Hermione.
She was wearing a form fitting simple silk gown with coordinating velvet robe in soft shades of pumpkin that were most becoming on her. Her hair glistened loose and long down her back almost to her waist, and it appeared that she had put a straitening charm on it. Harry thought Ron would trip over his own tongue.
When she saw the looks on their faces, she smiled; and both Harry and Ron realized that she looked more beautiful than either of them had ever remembered seeing her.
After they had passed through the portrait of the fat lady, she took Harry's right arm and Ron's left and the three of them set out for a fun filled night.
------------------------------------------------------
Draco had spent the afternoon plotting out his course for the evening, during the manicure, pedicure and facial that he had received at the hands of the house elves. He dressed for dinner in his usual all black attire - tonight would be leather and silk, (one of his favorite combinations) with a Wizrahi cloak. He wondered why Isaac Wizrahi had chosen a silver oak leaf as this fall's signature robe closure.
He absentmindedly mused about things he had heard in his classes about oak leaves symbolizing strength, wisdom and endurance, as he made his way to meet Crabbe and Goyle before heading to the lake. An enticing spicy scent of the cologne he had applied wafted behind him. He had chosen a Muggle fragrance in hope that it might be a topic of conversation with the Mudblood.
Having taken a late tea in his quarters during his mini-spa afternoon, Draco had not attended dinner with his protégées. He met up with Crabbe and Goyle in the Slytherin common room, and tried to stifle his response to Crabbe's neon green, and Goyle's violently purple dress robes. The two goons had apparently just returned from dinner and were carrying what looked like pillowcases full of......... fettuccini Alfredo? Draco didn't ask.
"I wonder if Potter will embarrass himself on the dance floor again tonight like he did at the Yule ball?" Draco muttered to himself with a sly grin as the three of them made their way up the staircases from the dungeons and out onto the castle grounds.
It was a beautiful cool, autumn evening, and Draco noticed that the full Harvest moon was more brilliant than ever. Professor Flitwick was turning 100 years old, and the grounds around the lake were decorated to birthday party perfection, with beautiful tables of party goodies, large colored glass globes containing candles floating in the air every few yards at varying altitudes and casting an interesting glow on everyone below.
There were dozens of large, elegant dinner tables decorated with fragrant white roses and candles circling around half of the lake, which afforded everyone attending a comfortable, front row view of the upcoming Fairy Ballet. All the students had dressed for the occasion; the excitement in the air smelled of vanilla spice candles and candied apples, and the general mood of the student body was unusually upbeat.
Professor Snape actually looked as though he had washed his hair, and was chatting with Madame Pince. Draco thought he heard the potions professor compliment her on her rare but impressive display of cleavage.
Professor Trelawney was wearing a red sequined evening gown with a long slit up the front of her left thigh and was carrying a goblet of sherry, sloshing it about, and spilling it onto her purple feather boa as she talked animatedly to a very unimpressed Professor McGonnagal.
Professor Dumbledore was wearing midnight blue robes decorated with authentic miniature moving constellations, and a raccoon hat. Umbridge was nowhere to be found, and Draco had a sneaky feeling that Dumbledore had put a confundus charm on her and locked her in a closet.
Draco scanned the crowd for his intended target, and found her near the spiked-newt-juice-punch-table, flanked by Weasley and...Potter! Who, for the love of the gods apparently had the audacity to wear the exact same outfit that Draco himself was wearing! An outrage!
Things like this simply didn't happen to Malfoys! Draco had spent a king's ransom on this designer ensemble so that no one else in this school would have one, and everyone would envy him! His indignation drove all thoughts out of his mind, replacing all his carefully laid plans with blinding anger towards the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Dress-Like-Draco-Malfoy-and-Ruin-His-Night!
Harry Potter had just gone too far this time! First of all, the green-eyed git was entirely too attractive with his new sexy bangs hairstyle! Secondly, the pious goody-two-shoes-Gryffindor had permeated Draco's dreams as well as his every waking thought for far too long for Draco to take any more frustration from him! Thirdly, well, Draco didn't need a thirdly; he just marched over to the newt juice punch table mad enough to spit daggers!
Draco didn't even take the time to notice that Crabbe and Goyle had abandoned him to make their way to the dance floor, oblivious to Draco's plight; but instead heatedly stormed directly over to that brazen little copy-cat, who went by the name of Harry James Potter!
----------------------------------------------------
Harry, Ron and Hermione were having a wonderful time. Fred and George had spiked the newt juice punch with a combination of alcohol and some of their newly invented loosen-up potion, and everyone was enjoying the way it seemed to instantly melt their stress and inhibitions away as it slid satisfyingly down their throats.
Already on his second cup, Harry was feeling no pain. He was laughing at Madame Trelawney who was now chasing Professor Flitwick around in hope of finding out if all three-foot-tall wizards truly did have twelve-inch tongues.
Angelina had passed by to say hello to the tree of them, and Harry had noticed that she, being tipsy herself and failing to use the proper amount of discretion, had grabbed a handful of Ron's bum and squeezed tightly. Ron, in surprise and embarrassment, had jumped, and Harry thought Hermione might start a cat-fight right then and there.
Harry noticed that Hermione's fingers were twitching as though she was going for her wand, when Angelina prudently said, "Look, cake!" and dismissed herself hastily.
And then it happened. The opportunity that Harry had been waiting for arrived.
Draco Malfoy had barged through the crowd, knocking down first-years and knocking Hannah Abbott into a heavily-laden table of hors D'oeuvres. He now stood toe-to-toe with Harry and appeared to be in a rant.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Potter!" Spat Draco furiously, (all devious agendas be damned.)
Ron and Hermione, who were used to Malfoy frequently getting his knickers in a wad with Harry just watched the conversation quietly, looking disgusted.
Well, well, well, Harry thought. Now is as good a time as any.
Harry once again recalled the fidelius oath from third year. He knew for certain what had to be done to protect Hermione's virtue from the very-sexy-when-he's-angry (at least in Harry's opinion) Slytherin.
Yes, now is the time, Harry told himself to reinforce his courage. He who hesitates is lost.
This was going to be monumentally difficult and infinitely embarrassing, Harry knew, but he mustered his trademark Gryffindor courage and steeled himself for the task at hand. He didn't even pause to take notice of how exciting the prospect of actually doing Malfoy seemed.
Harry focused carefully on the situation, and quickly noticed that the blonde pureblood prince was wearing an outfit identical to his own. Ahh, this must be what's got him in such a tizzy. Harry reasoned.
Then fixing Draco with a smoldering, penetrating gaze, Harry tread forth into battle. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
He decided to begin by playing it cool
"Uh...drinking punch, Malfoy;" Harry replied stating the obvious, "And if I might say so, you look like you could use a cup of it yourself" Harry continued sarcastically yet in a friendlier manner than usual. "It's quite strong." Harry raised an evocative eyebrow to Malfoy and stared straight into his sparkling silver eyes.
"I mean...Potter.... Why are you dressed in an outfit identical to my own!!!" Draco continued to rage.
Trusting in the rumors that he had heard about Malfoy's fondness of the masculine sex as well as the fairer, Harry, less inhibited than usual due to the magically-spiked punch, decided to turn on the ol' Potter charm. Had he been sober, of course, he might have been sensible enough to realize that he had never used the "Ol' Potter Charm" before, and was not, in fact, certain that such a thing existed.
"Hmm, I wonder how that happened, Malfoy." Harry asked innocently, and then smiling in a rather feminine sort of manner he added "You haven't been spying on me while I dress have you?" And in his current state of mild yet growing inebriation, Harry found it way too easy to look Draco up and down in an unmistakable sexually suggestive manner.
Ron and Hermione, taking notice of Harry's tone of voice and The Look that he had given Draco, both raised an eyebrow at Harry, in shock and disbelief. The Angelina bum-grabbing conversation would have to wait until later.
Harry wished that he at least had time to explain this charade to Ron before creating a colossal scandal with Malfoy, but he would just have to wait for an opportune moment.
Draco's brain could not process the implication that Harry had just made; so he blurted/stuttered out "I-I have n-not!" then added haughtily. "Y-You have to go change into s-something else!"
The urgency of the situation was apparently surpassing Harry, who nonchalantly glanced over at Cho who was walking by wearing a tight electric blue mini dress, and trying hard to catch his eye. Harry didn't take her bait; he had a much bigger fish currently on the line.
"You just want to get rid of me because you are going to try to take advantage of Hermione." Harry pouted dramatically. "But I want you to spend some time with me." Harry took a step closer to Draco and ran his finger from Malfoy's oak leaf clasp to the waist of his leather pants, where he hooked his finger in, and gently tugged Draco closer by his belt.
Is Potter pouting? Why is Harry pouting? What was that about Granger? Could he already realize what I was planning? 'Spend time with him'? What does he mean, 'spend time with him'? The realization was coming very slowly to Draco who after a moment realized that Potter was coming on to him, and a swarm of butterflies the size of Stonehenge spontaneously appeared in his stomach.
He blanched.
No amount of polyjuiced succubus sex in the world could have prepared him for this. Even though that last day of summer had been the best day of Draco's life...up until now, that is, Draco had no expertise that could help him deal with this. Potter had been his favorite fantasy for way too long.
Both Ron and Hermione's bottom jaws fell open and they stared at Harry wondering where he was going with this proclamation. Harry wanted to spend time with Malfoy?
Draco, feeling that all his well-laid plans were crumbling, decided to take the offensive, but not deny his original intentions. "Are you jealous of Granger, Potter?" trying to ignore the excitement that was bubbling up inside him.
But Harry, still a step ahead of Draco asked "Jealous of her, or jealous of you, Malfoy?"with an undeniably sexy raise of his eyebrow, and then he tilted his head and let a bit of his tousled hair fall teasingly across his face.
One point for the ol' Potter charm.
A cup of spiked punch sounded really good to Draco at that moment, and not willing to take the time to pour his own, he grabbed Harry's almost full cup and downed it, shoving the empty cup back into Harry's hand before he spoke. The liquid worked absolute miracles on Draco's frazzled nerves.
"Potter, you're drunk."
"Very observant, Malfoy. Here, have another cup of punch and you can join me in blissful intoxication."
"But you still have to go change clothes." Draco stated, though much more weakly than before.
Harry poured a full cup and handed it to Draco, letting his fingertips linger around Draco's for a meaningful moment. "Are you going to go with me to my room and help me change?" Harry looked at Draco expectantly and asked in a sultry voice.
Draco was at a total loss for words, and he somehow resembled a carp, in the way that his mouth was opening and closing, though no words were coming out of it.
"No?" Harry pouted again "Oh well, you might as well drink with me if we are going to look like the Olsen Twins" Harry lightened up a bit.
"The who?" Draco wrinkled his forehead in confusion.
"Never mind" Harry dismissed his Muggle faux pas and then he looped his arm inside Draco's elbow and whisked him away determined to get him as far away from Hermione as possible.
Draco was in such shock that he was still trying to figure out what had just happened. All he knew is that Potter had linked arms with him and was leading him toward the dance floor.
He downed his entire cup of punch in two giant gulps.
Ron and Hermione looked at each other puzzled, each not even knowing how to ask the other what had just happened, then silently made their way to follow the unlikely duo, out of deep concern and also a bit of what felt like sheer morbid curiosity.
The band was a conglomeration of magical creatures playing odd instruments, but the music was good. It had a good beat and it was great to dance to. Harry threw his robe to the house elves and took Draco's off of him and did likewise with it. The dance floor was crowded, so Harry took Draco's surprisingly soft hand and led him to the center of the floor.
The punch had gone to Draco's head quite quickly, and he couldn't really grasp the nature of the situation at hand. It all seemed very surreal with all the colored twinkling lights, the rhythmic music, and his mortal enemy right there, gyrating and rubbing up against him in what was most certainly the sexiest manner he had ever witnessed anyone move. Ever.
"When did you learn to dance, Potter?" Draco asked, still not convinced about this whole situation enough to start dancing, though genuinely surprised at the level of Harry's newfound skill.
"After my humiliating experience at the Yule Ball last year, all the girls in Gryffindor insisted that they each give me dancing lessons. Actually, all the girls in Huffelpuff and Ravenclaw did, too...oh, and the girls from over the summer." Harry mused, "I've had to dance with someone practically every day since then. This seems to be the way the girls wanted me to dance" Harry smiled, moving his body in a seductive manner that never failed to get the girls all hot and bothered.
Draco, not knowing if the strange pang of jealousy he felt was of Potter having all those girls or of all those girls having Potter, questioned "And I'm sure all you did was dance with them, right?"
Harry raised an eyebrow and demurely replied "Surely you don't expect me to kiss and tell, do you Malfoy? Be a love and dance with me. I know you are a good dancer, I remember how exquisite you looked at the Yule Ball dancing with Pansy, so come on and show me," Harry said as he looked meaningfully into Malfoy's eyes.
Draco still didn't understand just why he was standing here humoring Potter's insanity, but he began to move in time with the music, nonetheless.
The beat moved on, and so did Harry and Draco, their bodies moving with each other. At first their legs would occasionally collide, giving them each a bolt of pleasure. By the time they had danced a couple of songs, they were dancing close enough that their crotches were coming precariously close to one another, and Harry even reached out and out his hand to touch Draco's waist a few times to hold himself steady. Draco realized that he definitely had a buzz, and that he had never felt a state of wanton abandonment quite like this.
Draco watched Harry's body as he moved in time with the music. The tight leather pants accentuated his form perfectly. Draco could feel himself getting more and more aroused. The look lustful in Harry's eyes, and the intoxicating smell that was so uniquely Harry, were opening up some part of Draco's mind and soul that had never before been affected.
As Draco loosened up and really got into the dancing, Harry realized that Draco was one damn sexy son of a bitch. He was tall and lean and absolutely beautiful. Harry had never danced with a boy or come onto one before, but he had definitely thought about it. Being here like this dancing with Draco seemed very natural to him, even though they had always been such bitter rivals. Yes, this was turning out much more fun than he had thought it would.
Hermione and Ron stood beside the dance floor, watching in disbelief as the nature of the dance between Harry and Malfoy became more and more...um...sexual, was the only way to put it. Above all, to their great surprise, it seemed to be Harry who was coming on to Malfoy.
"Harry must have a plan to ...do something bad to Malfoy." was all that Ron could think to say.
"Uh...yes, that must be it," replied Hermione weakly.
This was probably the only reason why they had not stormed onto the dance floor and broken up this madness. They, too, remembered the promise they had made to each other during third year; but when they had made it they had never expected anything like this to ever happen.
When Crabbe and Goyle, who were dancing with each other, and feeding each other cauldron cakes right there on the dance floor, saw Draco dancing with Harry Potter, their hearts swelled with delight. They assumed that Draco was carrying out another one of his ingeniously sinister plots. They were always so proud of Draco on the occasions when he successfully fouled up people's lives. Especially Harry Potter's life!
Draco and Harry, however, both appeared to be enjoying this novel approach to interacting with the enemy. The music had taken over both of them, and they were dancing in a wanton state of abandon, enjoying each gratuitous collision of their bodies.
After a few fast songs, the musicians settled down into a slow-dance ballad. The dance floor flooded with couples wanting to join in and take advantage of the opportunity to snog, and Harry and Draco, who were in the middle of the dance floor, were suddenly shoved together. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and held him close. Draco couldn't help but think that nothing had ever felt as sexy as Harry's embrace, and his arms instinctively rested on Harry's shoulders, as he clasped his hands behind Harry's neck. This afforded free range for Harry's hands to explore Draco's gorgeous silk-clad body, to which he took full advantage.
As the dance proceeded, the couples dancing near the unlikely twosome began to snog. Sexual energy was in the air all around them, and Draco became acutely aware of the pleasant sensation of Harry's breath on his ear as Harry spoke gently to him.
"This is more fun that I had dreamed it would be." Harry's voice was deep following the exertion of the dancing, and Draco noticed that the sound of it touched something deep inside him.
"You dreamed about this?" Draco was genuinely shocked at Harry's confession.
Harry didn't want to confess everything just now, but he couldn't help but realize that he was enjoying this party immensely! He also realized that holding Draco in his arms seemed very right.
"We've been enemies far too long, M-Mal...(deep breath)...Draco." Harry looked deeply into Draco's eyes and saw more honest emotion there than he had ever before seen or even imagined possible from the usually aloof and abrasive Slytherin.
The look on Draco's face betrayed the fact that he was deeply shocked and pleased and had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted this. Was this what he wanted?...dear gods, it was!
Yes....H-H-Harry, I agree. This is much more pleasant." Draco gazed at Harry's lips longingly for a moment, and then he realized that Harry was about to kiss him, and the realization made him feel as if he might faint. His head spun and all he could focus on was the warm smell of Harry's cologne, Harry's soft, fair skin, Harry's brilliant green eyes, Harry's lightning bolt scar...... and Harry's mouth drawing closer to his.
Harry knew that this was it. He was about to kiss Malfoy. Things would be different between them from this moment forward. There could be no going back to the way things had been before. And after this everyone at school would label him as bisexual or gay. He tried to tell himself that he was being noble and that this was for Hermione, but he couldn't deny the fact that his body was fully aroused.
They stopped dancing and stood still, focused on the magnet pull towards each other's lips for a moment. They were so close that they could feel each other's breath, and Harry brushed the tips of his fingers against Draco's soft cheek. Draco's heart skipped a beat, and then when their lips met at last, Draco marveled at how soft yet how strong and passionate Harry's lips felt.
For several minutes they just stood there, discovering the feel of each other's lips. Their hands gently caressed each other through their matching black designer silk shirts. Eventually the kiss deepened and their hands began caressing lower and lower until they were fully involved in the essence of their gently caressing tongues and they were holding and squeezing each other's buttocks, grinding their aching arousals together, when the song ended.
---------------------------------------------
"Ahh, Poppy" Dumbledore said as they danced, I have reason to believe that most interesting things are going to happen this night. Too bad that I will have to Confundus all of the students in the castle at dawn to prevent word of the abduction and incarceration of Deloris Umbridge from leaking back to Fudge.
----------------------------------------------
The musicians left their stage, as it was time for the fairy ballet to begin, and the other snogging couples left the dance floor.
Fluffy and the Basalisk and the Dementors and even Lord Voldemort himself had not prepared Hermione and Ron for the sight that was before them as the students cleared away to give them a view of their best friend and his long-hated enemy. There, on the abandoned dance floor, was their Harry, snogging with Draco Malfoy.
Hermione asked Ron "Do you think this could be for real?"
"It looks pretty 'for real' to me" Ron answered, agitated, his face pale, as though he had seen his own grave.
"What should we do?" Hermione realized that all the books she had read could not help her in this particular situation, so she looked up to Ron with pale amazement on her face.
"I guess the only thing for us to do is to let them be." Ron puzzled. "Maybe all the bitterness and strife between the two of them over the years was really just unresolved sexual tension." Ron added, though the words felt bitter and unnatural coming from his mouth.
"Unresolved sexual tension" Hermione repeated blandly. All she could do was stare at them there on the empty dance floor, totally absorbed in one another. How could Harry be doing this? It seemed almost a betrayal of their friendship, in light of all the terrible things Draco had done and said to both Hermione and Ron over the years.
"Let's go get seats for the ballet; I can't watch this" Ron breathed dejectedly, and the two of them made their way toward the lake.
----------------------------------------------------------
Apparently they were drawing quite a bit of attention, because students were whispering and pointing at Harry and Draco, and quite a little crowd was gathering to watch in disbelief as the two boys continued kissing, oblivious to the commotion they were causing. Finally, Harry pulled away, glancing around at all the onlookers and whispered to Draco "Let's get out of here."
Draco nodded and Harry took him by the hand, led him from the dance floor past the punch table where he quickly transfigured two punch cups into a couple of liter-sized tankards and filled them with the potent beverage.
"You are the prefect. Shall we go to your room?" Harry asked, the ache in his lions was preventing him from being more romantic and charming.
Draco took one of the brimming-full giant tankards from Harry and simply nodded, he, too, was in need of physical release, and so dispensed with the usual formalities.
Both of them were excited, yet nervous about what was about to happen, as they made their way into the castle and down long corridors and descending staircases. The punch was quickly gulped down, and they made frequent stops to push each other up against a wall or banister to engage in passionate kisses and fevered fondlings of each others bodies. Each time they stopped Harry's hands worked to get further into Draco's clothes. By the time they arrived outside the Slytherin dungeon, Draco's shirt had been torn open, and the fly of Harry's leather trousers was unbuttoned.
"Nochte descendium" Draco muttered the password and the door to the Slytherin common room creaked open. Harry had to fight back a wave of nervousness as he followed Draco into the cold, yet opulently furnished dungeon.
Draco led him to yet another descending staircase. "My quarters are down here." He looked hungrily at Harry's kiss-swollen lips and piercing green eyes. "We won't be interrupted." his voice rich with innuendo and urgent desire.
Harry was grateful for that. He didn't want to find himself being tortured by Harry-Potter-hating Slytherins, in their territory with no way to escape.
"Will I be able to get out safely...um...er.....afterwards?" Harry searched Draco's eyes to find any clue of doubt or possible betrayal.
"Yes, of course, love. Everyone in Slytherin will do what I say. No one will harm you. I won't let them." Draco assured Harry fervently before grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him close for a long, deep kiss.
Draco's quarters were more luxurious than Harry had imagined. The floors and walls were of black marble. The ceiling was enchanted to look like a calm, clear pool of water that reflected the candlelit contents of the room below in its liquid depths. Malfoy family tapestries of serpents and gothic battles adorned the walls. Thick polar bear rugs covered the floor. The bed was huge, round and covered with a white ermine comforter and loads of black satin pillows. The bed curtains were of black velvet with tiny enchanted stars, which cast a beautiful light on Draco's alabaster skin.
Without thought of words that might be said, the two boys seemingly floated to the magnificent bed, kissing all the while.
As Draco laid down on his back, welcoming Harry enticingly with open arms and a flushed look of intense arousal on his face; Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it straight at Malfoy's chest. He paused for a moment, basking in the irony of the situation, and trying to decide how best to devoid Draco of his clothing.
"W-What are you doing? "Draco asked nervously as he held his breath and stared at Harry's wand.
"I'm just deciding what curse to use on you," Harry replied with a sardonic raise of his eyebrow; then with a smirk to rival Draco's own, Harry's urgent desire led him to mutter "ennudioso"
A very relieved Draco, realizing what Harry had initiated, relaxed and laid back, a willing, and unabashedly exhilarated, victim of the "stripping charm".
Harry marveled at just how perfect the other boy's body was as the spell slowly and tantalizingly removed the cloak, torn shirt, leather pants and silk boxers from him.
Then Harry stood before Draco and removed his own remaining clothing, very much pleased with the fact that the sight of his naked body made Draco's already straining erection pulse and jump like a racehorse eager to bolt out of the starting gate.
Their lovemaking, however, turned out to be slow and passionate. Each gentle touch, each cry of passion seemed to be a much-needed release that had been building since the first time Draco and Harry had met at Madam Maulkin's before first year.
Draco treasured the taste of Harry's skin and the feel of Harry's adept touch on his throbbing staff.
Harry was awestruck at the hot, velvety feeling of being inside Draco and at the unexpected tenderness of Draco's caress.
Harry traced Draco's lips with his fingertips, marveling at the intensity of the passion that he found in them. He marveled further at the intense emotion that he saw in Draco's smoldering gray eyes as they gazed into his own while their bodies moved together.
He noticed how Draco clenched the bed sheets tightly as he, Harry, thrusted them both towards earth shaking orgasms.
They reached climax several times before dawn, each time crying out the other's name.
Then, as the sun broke the horizon, they lay cuddled together, gently tracing fingertips over each other, and watching the dawn through Draco's bedroom window.
Life would never be the same; and both of them felt as though they had somehow left childhood behind during this night.
Harry fell into a peaceful sleep, and Draco lay awake, cherishing this opportunity to just look at Harry. From the top of his raven-haired head to the bottom of his surprisingly well-pedicured toes, Harry was the most precious thing to ever enter Draco's life.
Draco noticed the wound on the back of Harry's hand. 'I will not tell lies' it said. Draco had watched through Umbridge's window while Harry served some of those detentions, and been secretly amazed at how stoically the Gryffindor had completed the brutal task. Now looking at the angry wound that was still scabbed and red two weeks following the last detention, Draco remembered one of the first spells he had ever watched his mother perform. He gently lowered his lips to the back of Harry's hand, mustered up all the love in his heart, and kissed the wound.
-------------------------------------------------------
Somewhere on the other side of the castle in a large and ornate suite, Professor Albus Dumbledore awoke, cradled in between two very warm and very soft naked bodies.
"Zeus' Zebras!" he exclaimed too loudly for his pounding head, "It's Sunday morning and I have failed to Confundus the student body!" Minerva scoffed at what she, in her still inebriated state, still considered to be a minor detail.
Poppy, on the other hand said, "Albus, Dear, surely it can wait until later. Aren't there better things you could be doing?"
"Such as using your thighs for earmuffs?" the surprisingly virile old wizard replied.
And alas, the confundus charm would have to be left for later...
---------------------------------------------------------------
Draco awoke before lunchtime, hung over and dehydrated. He sat up in bed watching Harry sleep, and admiring the beautiful way that his sooty eyelashes lay in stark contrast to his perfect pale skin. Who would have known that Potter could be such a magnificent lover?
Draco couldn't help feeling that he was less than worthy of Harry's affection. After all, Harry was still "Saint Potter", and seemed completely perfect to Draco's wounded soul. Draco had lived a life of constant fear and degradation at the heavy hand of Lucius Malfoy; a fact which had left him constantly overcompensating for his lack of true self-esteem. It seemed to him that Harry had the whole world at his fingertips--everyone loved The Boy Who Lived. Draco wondered if he could ever be worthy of such a hero.
"Mmmmm....morning love." Harry muttered with a sheepish grin as he opened one eye to peer up through his mass of tumbled hair at his observer.
"Afternoon is more like it. You are an incorrigible lay about, Harry Potter." Draco teased.
"As long as I get to lay about with you, I'll accept the title willingly." Harry said nobly then bent his head and kissed Draco gingerly on the knee.
Draco had to close his eyes, as a wave of unfamiliar emotion washed over him. This was something that he never knew he had always wanted. This was love, something that had been an exceedingly scarce commodity in Draco's fifteen emotionally desolate years.
The intensity of the situation didn't surpass Harry's attention, either, and thinking it best to keep things light he asked "How about a shower?"
Draco pointed Harry to the private water closet adjoining his room, but let Harry have his shower in privacy.
Harry washed his body, wondering what Draco was thinking. Last night had been something else. Far more intense than Harry had planned. What would Lucius Malfoy do if he found out that his only heir had shagged Harry Potter....and liked it? Ha, take that one, Lucius.
As much as he had enjoyed last night and wanted to do it again and again, Harry hoped that Draco would never try to take him home to "meet the parents."
When he finally emerged, freshly washed and smelling of Draco's spicy soap, brunch was set up in the sitting area of Draco's room. The house elves had brought it with consideration to what both Draco's and Harry's favorite dishes were. For Draco there was black coffee and muffins with lemon curd topping, and for Harry there was sausages and fresh pineapple.
Harry, wrapped in only a towel, joined Draco, who was now looking more regal and aloof in his green satin Slytherin dressing robe.
"Why?" Draco asked simply.
Harry knew to what Draco was referring, but didn't want to go there just yet.
"Why not? We've both wanted to for a long time now." Harry replied. "Last night was the single best night of my life, Draco. You are magnificent. If you ever put as much passion into Quidditch as you did into your lovemaking last night, I won't be able to keep up with you."
"So you weren't just drunk?" Draco couldn't help but seem a bit petulant but he had to know.
"No, Love, I was not just drunk." Harry grew very serious. "Come on and admit it. You know that last night was a long time in the making. I know I've been thinking about it for ages, now."
Harry suddenly realized just how true his words really were.
Draco seemed eager to know more. "How long?"
It took Harry a minute to analyze the long-standing rivalry between he and Malfoy, which now seemed like nothing more than fuzzy memories of a past life.
"Remember in third year when I got my Firebolt?" Harry smiled "You asked me if I thought I could manage to fly it. I knew from the look in your eyes right then that you and I would eventually.....Well, you know." Then Harry blushed quite becomingly.
"You did seem to be fairly flirtatious that day, as I remember. Draco said, trying to suppress a smile, but failed to do so.
"Admit it, you wanted me then." Harry demanded playfully.
"Then how is it that we have been such vehement enemies for so long?" Draco avoided yet again.
"Unresolved sexual tension is my best guess." Harry said matter-of-factly. "Now tell me how long you have wanted me. I must know."
Draco's voice was weak and quiet, and he seemed embarrassed to admit "Since the first time I ever saw you in Madame Maulkin's before first year."
Harry just looked into Draco's eyes and saw that it was true. They looked into each other's souls for a moment, and then, fearing that he was about to get teary-eyed, Draco dismissed himself to go take a shower.
I love him! Harry thought, amazed, as he watched Draco retreat.
After a few minutes of letting the hot water run down over his body, Draco felt Harry's hands on his waist, followed by the feel of Harry's body coming into contact with his own. It seemed to fill the emptiness in his confused and frightened heart, knowing that Potter was right there, wanting him.
Can Harry possibly understand how soothing and fulfilling this is? Draco pondered as his arousal became greater and greater, wiping all rational thought from his mind.
The shower turned into an hour of torrid sex, after which they decided to go for a walk around the lake to get some fresh air and face the whispers of the student body together.
It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and much of the student body was hung over. Angelina and Alicia were racing broomsticks back and forth over the lake, trying to avoid the outreached tentacles of the playful giant squid.
Crabbe and Goyle were still dressed in their formal robes from the night before, and were laying about underneath a shady tree finally eating their pillowcases full of fettuccini alfredo with their bare hands, occasionally throwing some of the long gooey strands of it to the little squidlets that were swimming near the edge of the lake.
Ron and Hermione were in a canoe, and Hermione was reading Thalleus' principles of plant-to-reptile transfiguration to Ron, who, no matter how fast he rowed could not escape her, due to the fact that she was, after all, in the same boat with him.
Draco, his heart feeling warm and fuzzy, noticed that Harry looked happier and more content than Draco could ever remember seeing him.
Harry was comforted by Draco's presence, and couldn't help but think that the flowers adorning the grounds were much more beautiful than he had ever before seen them.
Draco broke the silence by saying "I thought you were in love with Granger."
"No, Ron is the king of her heart" Harry replied with an odd intensity.
"Well that will be the only thing he'll ever be king from that family" Draco added under his breath.
Harry chafed at the disrespect Draco was showing toward his best friend, and then he looked over at Crabbe and Goyle who were comparing the length of their armpit hair, and realized that he and Draco really were from different worlds and had built vastly incongruent lives. But I've never been happier than I am right now being with him, Harry thought, beginning to feel a bit nervous about throwing caution to the wind.
He had started this with the rationalization that he was doing it for Hermione. Somehow, that thought had been quickly lost once he had started dancing with Draco. What with Draco's extreme good looks, his smooth sensuality, and his incredible lovemaking skills, Harry could understand why so many people over the past several weeks had fallen victim to Malfoy's charm.
Then it hit him. Could he be falling victim to Malfoy's charm? He did feel completely besotted by Draco's magnificent beauty and passion. This was the first time in his life that he felt completely fulfilled and able to handle any challenge that might come his way. Was this all too good to be true?
Draco noticed that Harry looked troubled about something.
"What's the matter, Love?" Draco asked.
"N-n-nothing, look, M-Draco, I have some things I need to do." Harry stammered." I'll catch up with you later." and then Harry ran toward the castle.
Draco flushed with painful confusion, not knowing what to say or do as he watched Harry run away.
"Hey, Harry, where are you running to?" Ron called out as Harry passed the canoe racks where Ron was putting away his canoe. Hermione had already gone back inside the castle to get ready for dinner.
"Er, nowhere" Harried replied truthfully. "I suppose you deserve an explanation."
Ron looked relieved and troubled at the same time. 'Only if you want to give one, Mate."
Not wanting to go into the personal dynamics developing between Malfoy and himself, Harry chose to stick to his original story.
"Look, D-Malfoy had his sites set on Hermione, I had told you that yesterday; and I just did it so that she would respect him as my lover and would be protected by that fidelius oath we made." Harry explained adamantly, hoping that Ron would take this whole situation well.
But Ron never got the chance to reply.
Noticing an all too familiar menacing glare in Ron's eyes, Harry traced his line of vision, and turned around.
There was Draco, looking stricken and as though he was about to pass out. He had heard what Harry had just said.
Harry's heart sank. This is not how he had wanted this to turn out. He was falling in love with Draco; he certainly didn't want to hurt him!
At that moment, as luck would have it, the three boys' heads became surrounded in swirling tiny bubbles, and all conscious thought was wiped from their minds for several seconds. When the bubbles cleared away, the three looked at each other, not quite knowing why they were standing around the canoe racks.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Albus, Poppy and Minerva had regained their sobriety (and their clothes) before casting the widespread charm together. Then they reluctantly opened the door to Deloris Umbridge's closet, freeing her from what she was later told (and believed) had been an abduction by Peeves. She immediately ran to the owlery to notify Fudge of the unpleasant ordeal.
All of the students at Hogwarts had forgotten everything that had happened since dinner on Friday evening just before the announcement of Professor Flitwick's party was made. Their memories were replaced with thoughts of studying and carrying on normal mundane activities.
"The party was a smashing success, and the ballet was exceptional, Albus" Minerva commented. "It is too bad that the students won't be able to remember it."
"Ah, Minerva" the old professor replied "in a few years they will look back and be able to remember it perfectly. The confundus charm is temporary, and will just prevent any trouble from the Ministry until Fudge comes to his senses."
----------------------------------------------------------------
Draco, confused and oddly emotional, made his way back to the dungeon and the safety of his room. As he walked into the room and looked at the strange dissarray, he deduced that he had definitely had "company" the previous night, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember who it was.
Even stranger was the fact that there were now two identical Wizrahi cloaks with oak leaf clasps crumpled on his floor.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Harry was uncommonly distracted as he and Ron made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. He had the strange feeling that he had lost something that he had never known that he had always wanted.
An overwhelming melancholy seemed to settle around him, and for the next few weeks he was unexplainably moody and depressed.
Quite often during those weeks, he wondered how the terrible wound on the back of his hand had healed apparently overnight to a thin pale scar that barely depicted the words that had been carved into his flesh.