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Disclaimer/Warning: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This is slash - male x male relationships. It also contains femmeslash - female x female relationships. If this offends you or doesn't suit your fancy in any way, then do not read below this warning and the future chapters. The concept is quite simple, and a bad review on this particular topic will only make you look like an ass. Thanks!
Author's Note: Don't worry, people! Blaise and Pansy are harmless… and there will be more Draco/Harry interaction coming in a few chapters!
Chapter Five – The Shady Inspiration of an Undercover Author
Harry did not rest until he reached the Room of Requirement, even though he felt the urge to collapse when he reached the midpoint of the journey. He was delighted to see his room of choice; a master suite drenched in beautiful hues of blue and silver, his two favorite colors. He went straight for the king-sized bed, accioed his writing trunk through the strategically placed window, and flung out his stack of blank pieces of parchment, his emerald green ink, and his favorite eagle feather quill (which rumored to be from Malfoy's eagle owl).
Visions of playful silver eyes, impish smiles, toned forearms, and immaculate white gold locks flashed throughout his mind like gaudy neon lights – snitches of pure black, pale, flawless flesh, powerful legs, defined abs peaking from beneath smooth silk…
Strong jaws, slender hips, delicious ass…
With a groan, he grabbed the nearest pillow to smother himself, as if he were trying to smother the intense, almost painful, desire escalating within him. He felt like he should stick a warning on his back similar to that of a Muggle aerosol container:
WARNING: Contents under sexual pressure. Keep away from seventh year Draco Malfoy. Do not tease or touch. Exposure to said person may cause bursting.
Not only was he under the sexual pressure that came with craving the god Draco Malfoy, he wanted to know what made the other boy tick: what makes him laugh? Cry? Scream? Lose control? What was his favorite color? Favorite type of fabric to wear? Did he like the feel of silk on bare skin? Was he the type to look at the person he was shagging or did he like it doggy style?
Fuck, he was hard!
He had to relieve some of this pressure. Wanking was not an option; he only did that in the dead of the night. No, what he needed was a distraction - something completely off of the subject of sex and silk.
He grabbed the quill and dipped the tip in the ink.
Goobers
"Goobers? What are those again?"
Heath pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out another exasperated sigh. He was, once again, training David in the area of all things Muggle, and today's topic happened to be Muggle candy. Because of his love's dreadful memory, Heath was asked that very question six times, not including the questioning looks thrown his way when said candy was mentioned. He loved David to death, but honestly, if he were asked that question one more time, he would have to kill him; a swift, yet efficient Avada Kedavra.
"David…love," Heath said as if talking to a child and reassuring his love for the other man. David looked to him askance. "They're chocolate covered peanuts."
He held up the blue box and pointed to the picture to emphasis his point, mentally screaming for joy when David shook his head in recognition. Leaning forward onto his knees, Heath planted a chaste kiss on the corner of David's mouth as a reward. David returned it in earnest before grabbing the smaller young man and situated him between the 'V' of his legs. "I don't know why you bother to still eat Muggle candy," David joked. He wrapped his arms around Heath's waist while the other laid his head on his shoulder. "We both know Gasmati Gumballs are the best."
"Oh for fuck's sake!"
Disgusted with himself, Harry stood up abruptly and crumpled the piece of parchment with his right hand, then threw it across the room into the fireplace. He shouted "Incendio!" and watched with satisfaction as it burst into flames and was reduced to ash. The whole point of running out of Hogsmeade was to distract himself from any…temptation. He'd had this crush for a long while, and neither Ron nor Hermione knew of it. If he kept along this route, one day they're going to see him checking out Draco Malfoy's ass and are going to wonder what the bloody hell was going on. He loved his friends dearly, but…
No.
He wasn't going to come out to them and ask for their support.
And he sure as hell wasn't going to leave them clues so they could figure it out.
Damned if I do, damned if I don't, he thought with sardonic amusement. I am screwed…and not even of the good kind.
The fire died with an anticlimactic 'poof,' leaving Harry in a silence that dragged all of the thoughts he had been trying to lock away to the forefront of his mind. He pictured a nice fire, heavy blankets, and two swaddled figures – one slightly bigger than the other wrapping muscular arms around the other form and dropping a kiss on his love's crown. The other would sigh with contentment, huddle closer, and make sure that every inch of his body was flush against the other, a slow, kindling of arousal ignited between them.
Merlin, he hated being a writer some time.
They always came up with the most vivid of scenarios.
---
The room eventually became too stifling for Harry; the room he once called his ultimate getaway became a haven for scenarios of the wishful mind and a remainder of the loneliness within him. So he began to roam the castle – although he had scoped every inch of the castle during the war last year to make sure the Death Eaters couldn't sneak their way in – but he found the walk a calming balm to his frazzled nerves and tense form.
Without even realizing it, he made his way to the teachers' areas. He had just past Professor Sprout's bedchambers and, much to his delight, was just outside Professor Lupin's chambers.
Remus' work in the war last year earned him his rightful spot as the DADA teacher at the request of most of the Aurors and the parents of his previous students. The fact that he was a werewolf had been all but forgotten, but Severus' new variation of Wolfsbane made him healthier and certainly not as dangerous as he once was during a full moon.
Remus was the perfect person to talk to, Harry realized with a start, considering the fact that he too had an affinity for males. Why he didn't think of it before was lost on him.
Almost leaping the rest of the way to Remus' chambers, Harry cordially nodded to the elegant man in the portrait before raising his arm to knock on the thick frame. It opened before his hand made contact with the surface, and he backed away to let the other person coming out through.
"Please don't go."
Harry certainly recognized the voice of his professor and mentor Remus Lupin, but was that pleading he heard in that command? Was that the longing and desire he often made himself have when talking to Draco in one of his erotic stories?
It couldn't be! Remus was single!
"Why shouldn't I, Remus? You all but asked me to leave the moment I set foot in the door."
Harry inched closer. That voice sounded awfully familiar - he just couldn't place where he had heard it before.
"No, I didn't. I was shocked to say the least, but hell, can you blame me? I haven't seen or heard from you for over a year! Not one owl…or…anything!" His voice turned angry. "And now, you come strutting into my bedchambers as if you never left!"
"Remus…"
"That's Lupin to you, Malfoy."
Harry clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the gasp. Malfoy? As in Lucius Malfoy? Saints preserve us!
Inching closer, Harry paused when he heard the pitter patter of expensive shoes on hardwood floors, and slunk back into the shadows when the door squeaked open another smidge. He could now see the two gentleman facing each other, Remus sitting on the couch with a scowl on his face and Lucius standing taunt in front of him and leaning a bit on the elegant cane to his left side.
"Well, Lupin, once again you are speaking before you have the chance to think over the situation at hand."
Merlin, Harry thought with a moan, I definitely know now who Draco got that sexy drawl from.
"I was scorned on the side of the Light and the Dark, a bounty was on my head, and even Dumbledore couldn't provide me a haven in which to stay and fight. What, pray tell, was I suppose to do? Find an opening between running from the Death Eaters and finding a spot for hiding to leave you a goodbye note?"
And the cutting sarcasm!
Harry saw the look of indecision on his mentor's face and mentally empathized with him. Lucius' bold statements held nothing but truth in them, and even though the taller man was right, he still saw the anger on the werewolf's countenance.
But to his surprise, Harry saw Lucius' emotionless mask soften into what he thought to be affection and a hint of amusement. The blonde then sat beside Remus and pulled him into a warm embrace, burying his face into the other man's hair and inhaling deeply. Remus returned the embrace with ferocity, so much so that it looked like it hurt to be in it. The two stayed that way for a while until Lucius broke away to stare deep into Remus' hazel eyes.
"Remus."
The werewolf looked away, a stubborn frown on his face. "Malfoy."
A soft smile. "Lupin."
A soft laugh. "Lucius."
Knowing he was forgiven, Lucius grabbed Remus' chin, swooped down, and captured his lips in a passionate kiss, instantly sweeping his tongue across Remus' lower lip for entry. He was granted that entry immediately, and after a brief struggle for dominance, Remus melted into Lucius' embrace and surrendered to his love's domination.
Harry watched on, entranced.
Lucius upped the passion by wrapping an arm around Remus' waist and settling him beneath his form, using that very arm to stroke and caress the other's form. He developed a reoccurring pattern; left nipple to abs, abs to hips, hips to ass, ass to thigh, repeat. Remus moaned into the kiss and nipped at the taller man's bottom lip when the other chuckled sensually.
Lucius broke the kiss. He stared forward for a bit before turning his steely silver gaze at the door.
Right into Harry's own shocked and slightly glazed gaze.
"Remus, we have company."
"Mm?"
The professor allowed himself to be pulled up and moved in the direction of the door. He started when he meet Harry's gaze, and scrambling off of Lucius, he straightened his robes and hair while looking to the ground. "Harry!" he said too cheerfully. "What brings you here?"
Harry was still in a daze at the scene he just witnessed, but still had the sense to step more into the light. "I-I…"
He trailed off, unable to come up with a suitable lie to cover himself. Lucius stared at him knowingly. "It would appear that Mr. Potter here," Harry shivered from the sexy baritone, "was spying on us."
Remus gasped and turned to Harry, a blush thinly covering his cheeks. "Harry?"
Oh god, I was supposed to be distracted, and now I can't help hoping that Draco and I will be in that position one day!
"I-I gotta go!"
For the second time that day, Harry sprinted.
I have to write! I have to write!
Lucius eyed his retreating form with suspicion.
---
True to the thought he had when sprinting out of Hogsmeade to the Gryffindor Tower and out of Professor Lupin's chambers, Harry wrote. Thanks to Lucius and Remus' touching, sexy scene, he was able to proudly yell to the rooftops - although he wouldn't dream of doing it – that he wrote, front and back, 20 Muggle-sized sheets of parchment for the second arc of his Heath/David series, and two side short stories about his two original characters. And now, with his head cleared and panic dispelled, he was able to post them.
Thanks to the mischievous twins, Fred and George, and their Muggle-loving father, Arthur Weasley, the wizarding world gained the Wizarnet – the wizard's version of the Internet. The twins used the immense profits gathered from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes to make a library of sorts for research and study. Installing ten fireplaces with a floo network that connected to Fred and George's office, any wizard could create a "page," send it to the stationed receptionist, and have it accessible by a set keyword. If a wizard wanted to save the page or printed out for further use, one would only have to say "Reservare" or "Exprimo" and the page would be there for further access or copied onto a separate piece of parchment.
They called it an Arthurian; appropriately named after the man who researched the Muggle Internet so extensively.
It took hideously complicated magic to set everything up without flaws, but with the help of Dumbledore, the teachers of Hogwarts & Durmstrang, and the Ministry of Magic, the Wizarnet was able to grow to its maximum potential across all of the wizarding world. An Arthurian was added to every school, and set in every major wizarding area for public access.
Harry was part of the Klaudio, an "on-floo" society that posted their original stories for critiquing. Xavier Klaudio was the first wizard who was a fictional writer, and he created the society in the later part of his years. Usually meeting in Diagon Alley for book talks, the Klaudio leaped at the idea of posting when the Weasley Twins made debut of the Wizarnet. To be completely anonymous and have some privacy, Harry created the alias Ricense; in the Giant's language, the term meant "lover of the dragon."
He hadn't posted his novel yet; he wanted to finish it before he did. But he had hundreds of short stories featured in the society, all of which dealt with his original characters Heath and David, and the feedback so far had been addictive. He got the reviews every morning during school by an iamon owl – the bird could deliver messages based on a preset magical signature as opposed to a name.
It is safe to compare it to Muggle email.
So that was where he was heading now: to the Diagon Alley Arthurian. His initial shock and unbearable desire sprouted from Draco's amicability and that damn gorgeous smile he had when Harry tried to make small talk wore off completely. His shock and desire produced from seeing Lucius and Remus together had worn off completely. Now, it was replaced with barely suppressed glee – a subtle (well, as subtle as any Gryffindor can be) haze of bliss at the realization that Draco, King of Slytherin and most gorgeous bloke on the face of the Earth, had smiled at him. And shared his gumballs with him.
To any onlookers, it would appear that he was even skipping Diagon Alley.
Not that he was.
Malfoy couldn't possibly be the cause of such whimsical behavior on his part.
And if he told himself that enough times, he might actually believe it.
"Harry!"
Harry stopped and turned at the call from his buddy Ron, who was running toward him with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan on his heels. Ignoring the lustful looks thrown at him from Seamus, Harry smiled brightly and replied, "Yes?"
Ron stopped mid-run, a look of utter bewilderment on his face, and caught himself from falling when Dean ran right into him. He briefly glared at the other boy before walking the rest of the way to Harry and staring at his mate with an incredulous frown. "What's the matter with ya mate?"
Seeing Harry cock his head to the side in questioning, Ron ventured on. "One moment, you run out of Hogsmeade like a bloody madman, and the next you're grinning like a loon and acting as if nothing happened!"
"Oh that," Harry chuckled as he shook his hand in a wave of dismissal, "I temporarily lost my mind…"
"I'll say!"
"…but I'm alright now. Everything's dandy."
Ron stared. "Everything is not alright if you're using the word dandy to describe how you're feeling!"
Harry let out a laugh deep from the belly, and because of his contagious laugh, Ron, Dean and Seamus found themselves laughing just as loudly. After a few minutes, Harry ended the laugh with a hearty inhale and a chuckle, slapping his best mate on the back and starting to head along his intended route. "Touché! But really, Ron, I'm fine."
"Ok, but I'm gonna check on you later!" Ron stated jokingly. "First you're talking to yourself, then you're showing signs of Muggle skits-so-frenia!"
Harry ignored the complete shredding of the word schizophrenia as well as the urge to laugh. He shifted the satchel swung over his shoulders—
—and felt the color literally drain from his face.
All of his short stories, including the ones exclusively starring himself and Draco, were lining the bottom of the bag, not to mention the first few chapters of his novel, Sweet Surrendering Seduction. He could picture it now: Ron asking him about the bag, him shrugging it off, Ron stealing the bag to view what was inside…
Ron dieing on the spot from heart failure while Seamus exclaimed how 'bloody brilliant' the stories were with drool gathering on the corner of his mouth.
BOLLOCKS!
For the third time that day, Harry sprinted.
"Harry!"
---
To Be Continued…Review, review, review!
-MercuryGoddess-