Chapter 5

Everything's falling to pieces, Harry thought, dismally, as he lay in his four poster. Ron hadn't spoken to him at all since the incident in the Great hall. He didn't even look up when Harry had gotten to the common room, and when he entered the dormitory later that evening, he had simply undressed and gone to be, not giving Harry so much as a nod. So, having no other choice, Harry did the same. Why did I have to open my big mouth, he asked himself, angrily, why did I have to let it all out, in front of everyone?

Well, if Ron wasn't being such an idiot, a voice from the back of his head countered, you never would have exploded like that, so it wasn't entirely your fault.

Harry knew that the latter was true but, there was still a horrible feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He sighed and brought his hands up, resting them underneath his head. The events of that evening played over and over in his mind, each time looking and sounding more severe than the last. Was he really going to lose his best friend over something like this? Finally, he sighed. I need to go somewhere to relax, he thought. Very slowly, a smile crept onto his face as his mind began to become filled with thoughts of his seventeenth birthday. If there was anywhere in the world he could go to relax, Club Venom was it. It was all a matter of getting there. Hmm, he mused, how many ways are there to sneak out of the castle and to Knockturn Alley? He chuckled to himself as he began to count the ways. Of course, it was all really a joke to him, something to keep his mind off of the state of his and Ron's friendship. There were plenty of ways for him to get out of the castle, without going through the front doors (he had Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail, and Prongs to thank for that) but no way, that came to his mind, that could also get him anywhere near Knockturn Alley. Giving up on the matter, as it was only a silly musing, he turned over and closed his eyes. It was then--while he was waiting for sleep to come--that he was hit with a sudden realization.

He sat straight up in his bed. Why hadn't he thought of it before? He didn't even need a way to get to Club Venom. He was of age, he could apparate there! And since getting out of the castle was no great feat for him, there was nothing stopping him. But then something else hit him. There was nothing stopping him. Now that he knew he could leave the castle and got to the place he'd been dreaming about for so long, would he? Did he have the courage to actually take the steps he'd been wishing to take, since his birthday?

Harry absentmindedly bit his bottom lip as his eyes wandered to his trunk, sitting at the foot of his bed. He knew perfectly well that his invisibility cloak was sitting, neatly folded, at the bottom, waiting for him. He hadn't used it at all since the term started, and, knowing it would play a great role in his plans, he suddenly felt as if it were calling to him. Well, it is Friday, he thought, smirking slightly to himself, so it isn't like I've got classes to go to in the morning.

-o-o-o-

The music was to come on any moment now, and Draco stood, poised behind the red curtain, ready to step out into the world he had come to love. Up until the moment he had stepped backstage, he felt as if he was a bomb with a lit fuse: ready to explode at any moment. His life seemed to be crumbling around him. His teachers were getting on his case about is rapidly diminishing grade average; there were starting to schedule meetings with him, after his lessons, to discuss possible reasons for it. That afternoon, he had gone to see Professor Snape, to discuss his lack of effort and dismal work. He thought it was going to be a very quick, five minute or so, conversation in which Snape would tell him that his work ethic needed to be improved and he would tell Snape that he was under a lot of pressure and would try harder to bring his work back up to par. Never once did it cross his mind that the man was going to go on for an hour about how he only chose the best for his N.E.W.T level classes and there was no room for failure to meet the requirements.

Looking back on it now, from where he was behind the red curtain, he laughed at the ordeal. Now, he found it quite amusing that the entire time Snape was speaking--Snape, whom he had regarded as a highly respected figure--the only thing he could think about was how much he wanted t tell the man to fuck off so he could hurry to his escape. It had all been so annoying, but then again, so was everything else that stood in the way of him that that stage.

When he had told the deejay what song he wanted to dance to that night, his response had been a look that screamed, "Are you sure this is what you want?" But Draco felt that The Weird Sisters' "Attack" perfectly reflected his mood. The hard core, heavy metal, music was exactly what he needed. He needed to blow off some steam. He needed to attack, and The Weird Sisters would allow him to do just that. He was "The Dragon" after all, and, in addition to being stunningly beautiful, the Indian sky Serpent was vicious.

Finally, he heard the first chord of his song being struck and the curtain lifted. Then, before he could even move, his eyes fell upon another's, enchantingly green in color and seeming to shine above anything else in the darkness of the club. For a split second his body froze. He was here, sitting no more than ten feet away. Snap out of it, Draco, he mentally chided himself, you've got a job to do. Immediately, he snapped back to reality. He threw himself forward, to the front of the stage. That night, he performed at his best. His movements, far from his usual smooth sensual motions, were rough and jerky. He jumped and twisted to the syncopated beats, throwing kicks and pelvic thrusts. Instead of stripping off his clothes, he practically tore each piece of the leather ensemble off of his body, tossing them in every direction. Every time he looked out into the crowd, he saw only one person: Harry Potter. The way he was dancing, the way he was touching himself, it was all for Harry. Nothing else in the world mattered as much as Harry did.

When he finished, he was naked--except for his mask--and exhausted. His body was coated with a thick layer of raw heat. As he left the stage, for his dressing room, he took a quick glance back at the audience. Harry's eyes were glued to him as he sat, motionless in his chair, mouth hanging slightly open, as if he was in shock. Draco smiled at him. Another job, well done.

-o-o-o-

Harry twiddled his thumbs nervously as he sat in a high-backed red armchair. He looked around at the furniture, which was all red. In addition to the armchair, there was a couch, and a wooden table that stood on a red oval shaped rug, and in the center of the room, was a pole that ran from the ceiling to the floor. I guess "The Red Room" was no metaphor, he thought.

How he had gotten there was a complete blur to him. The last thing he remembered, clearly, was a slip of red parchment that had appeared on the table he was sitting at. He remembered that while he was watching the Dragon dance, he began to think about what would happen if he were ever to meet him alone somewhere. Then, the parchment appeared. "To," the parchment read, leaving an empty space after the word. "You have been summoned to the Red Room by one who would like to be known as…" and another space. Without even thinking, he took the parchment and filled out the appropriate forms, using the alias "Green Eyes" instead of his real name. Then, everything else was a blur of hallways and doors.

But one thing he could never forget, though, was the dance he had just witnessed, minutes ago. The way The Dragon had moved made him have to fight to keep himself from jumping onto the stage and tearing the dancer apart. Then, there was his body, the body that Harry had been dreaming about for so many months. Every inch of his fair skin radiated beauty, from the slender shape of his body, to the toned muscles of his abdomen, to the slight curve of his hips…

Harry began to feel a familiar stirring in his pants as he thought more about The Dragon's body. He knew it probably wasn't the best thing to be doing, now, when he was just about to meet with him, but he couldn't tear his mind away form the pictures streaming through his head. He closed his eyes and let himself enveloped in them, letting his tongue glide over his bottom lip and imagining it to be The Dragon's.

"Thinking about me?" a voice said from in front of him. Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat up in the chair, only to find the one he had been thinking about standing right there, in front of him, leaning against the pole. He was wearing a pair of silk pants that hung low enough on his hips to reveal that he wasn't wearing anything under them. His usual black mask sat on his face, hiding everything above his cheeks, except for his silver eyes, and his feet and chest were bare. Harry sat frozen in his seat as he stared up at the image of beauty before him. He wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out of his mouth, when he opened it, was a feeble squeak. He watched a smile creep across The Dragon's face. "I'll take that as a yes," he said. He took a couple of steps forward and knelt in front of Harry, resting his elbows on Harry's thighs and his chin in his palms. "So," he said, "Green Eyes, is it?"

Harry nodded. God, he was sitting so close to him, closer than he'd ever thought he could be. "Y-Yeah," he stuttered.

The Dragon chuckled. "You don't have to be nervous, you now," he whispered, "I'm not going to bite…not yet, anyway," he added with a smirk.

Harry let out a tense breath. "I'm sorry," he said softly, "I just--"

"Shh," the Dragon said, cutting his words short, "let me help you…get comfortable." He put a hand on Harry's knee and hoisted himself up. Then, he swung a leg over Harry's and sat on his lap, straddling his thighs. Harry swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure, but the Dragon was so close, he could smell the sweet scents coming off of him. He saw The Dragon's hand come up and stop at the very top button of his navy blue shirt. His head tilted to the side and he leaned in to Harry's neck. Harry's eyes fluttered shut when he felt the dancers warm, moist tongue slide up to his jaw, where The Dragon placed a soft kiss. The kisses continued to Harry's ear and a shiver ran through his body, making him moan out loud. Hot breath blew into his ear as The Dragon chuckled lightly. "are you stating to feel more…relaxed?" he asked, softly.

His voice was so smooth, so seductive, that Harry was having a very hard time containing himself. "Mm-hmm," harry replied, unable to get anything else out of his mouth.

"Good," The Dragon whispered.

"Harry felt a tug at the collar of his shirt. He opened his eyes to find The Dragon's slender fingers working at the button. When it came free, he moved on tot he next.

"So," The Dragon continued, "do you have a name, Green Eyes?"

"Mm-hmm," Harry said, again. "H-Harry."

"Mmm, Harry?" The Dragon asked as he undid the very last button. "As in Harry Potter."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Yes," he answered, nervously, "but please don't--"

"Don't worry," The Dragon said, anticipating Harry's words. "Your secret is safe with me." Harry let out a sigh of relief. "So, Harry, is this your first time at Club Venom?"

Harry shook his head. "I-I was here once before," he answered. "On…" He felt The Dragon place a finger on his collar bone and drag it, slowly, down and across his chest, making random patterns across his skin. His grip on the chair tightened and he moaned again. "on my birthday, a couple months ago," he finished.

"But you've never been in the Red Room, before, have you?" Harry shook his head, again. "Well, there are some things you need to know before we can have so real fun." His hand traced down his chest and stomach, landing on the top of his belt buckle. He didn't hesitate to unfasten it and move on to Harry's pants. "Okay?"

"Mm-hmm," Harry moaned. He felt The Dragon's hand slide, slowly, into the into his pants and past the elastic waistband of his boxers. Knowing what was about to come next, his grip on the arms of the chair tightened so much that he felt his fingers would soon break.

"There are only two rules in the Red Room," The Dragon continued, his hand moving tantalizingly slowly down to the point of Harry's arousal. "but they're two very important rules. Do you follow?" Harry nodded, trying hard to focus more on what The Dragon was saying than what his hands were doing. "The first rule is the 'no touching' rule." It was that moment that he chose to let his hand fall upon Harry's member. Not expecting the sudden contact, Harry gasped and his body jerked. The Dragon chuckled lightly. "Did I surprise you, Harry?" Harry nodded slowly. The Dragon gently pulled it out of his pants and began to move his hand back and forth across it, very slowly. At the same time, he continued to speak. "The 'no touching' rule is very simple," he said.

It was torture. The slow pace at which The Dragon was stroking him gave Harry the impression that he was doing it almost absentmindedly but, at the same time, told him he was doing it that way deliberately. It was as if he, The Dragon, knew that with each unhurried movement, more and more tension built up inside of Harry, tension that was begging to be released. And on top of that, he still needed to focus on what The Dragon was telling him.

"I can touch you," The Dragon said, "as much as I want, in any way I want."

Of course, Harry thought.

The Dragon's Grip on Harry's member became more firm, but his speed remained the same. "But you can only touch me when I give you permission." Harry let his head fall back and lifted his hips a little. He had heard what The Dragon had said, but only just barely, for in his mind, he was begging for the dancer's tormenting hand to move faster. "Do you understand, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry moaned, in response.

"Good." Finally, The Dragon's hand began to pick up speed, but only just slightly. Unfortunately, this proved to be even more of a torture than before. He was so close to where he wanted to bee. If only The Dragon would move just a little faster. "Now the second rule is the most important of the two. Harry moaned. It was getting harder to keep his attention off of what was going on in his pants. "We can touch," The Dragon said, "we can kiss, we can…lick…suck…rub…" Harry's eyes fluttered shut as each murmured word brought an enticing image to his mind. He pressed his shoulders to the back of the chair and arched his back, willing The Dragon to go further, uttering a moan of pleasure. "but under no circumstances can it ever go further than that. Got that, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry moaned, thinking the Dragon was going to go further. But, all at once, The Dragon's hand left Harry's erection. Harry opened his eyes and saw him smirking smugly at him.

"Good," he said, "because our time is up."

"What?" Harry asked, in disbelief. "But…"

"I know," The Dragon said, still smirking. "Are you not completely…satisfied?" Harry hesitated a bit, before shaking his head. The Dragon's smile broadened. "Good. That's all the more reason for you to come back." Harry finally understood. The Dragon was not only extremely good looking, but quite intelligent, too. He brought his lips to Harry's ear. "You are coming back, right?"

Harry thought for a moment. It had never occurred to him to return to Club Venom. Could he manage to sneak away, unnoticed, again? What if this time had been a fluke? Suddenly, he felt something warm and wet dip into his ear.

"I promise I won't…leave you hanging, next time," The Dragon whispered.

That was motivation enough for him. "When do you want me to come back?"

The Dragon chuckled. "Next week," he replied. "I'll be waiting."

Feech Notes: Alright well, now that that's over and done with...happy dance! I am so happy I fianlly get to update again! Now the bad news...I'm about halfway done with chapter six but (DUN DUN DUH!) I've got finals coming up so, expect a few delays. Not as bad as before but still. If I can, I'm gonna try to get it done before my finals start next thursday, so be sure to bug me and bother me until I do, kay! Peaches, sweeties!