Ode et Amo
Disclaimer: all the usual – (for detailed and more festive disclaimers: see chapter one)
Warning: This chapter will contain something close to M-rated fun. So if you're not old enough, don't read. Rated M for violent behaviour, language and adult contents.
Chapter two: I'm stronger than that!
Harry got up, not realizing that everyone at the table was watching him closely. He wasn't entirely sure weather the fluttering feeling in is stomach was the potion taking effect or if it was him being sick at the thought of what might happen.
Malfoy seemed to be untouched by the potion, as he was merely concerned with his clothing, but even so the blond Slytherin seemed somewhat too worried.
Harry gave Hermione a quick glance and saw the anxious look in her eyes. She too kept looking at Malfoy, clearly expecting the potion to take effect. Harry was also sure that however little of the love potion Malfoy had ingested, it would take some form of effect – soon. And he was just as sure that he did not want to be around Malfoy when it did. So he left the Great Hall, leaving behind a couple of dozen surprised and curious heads, with eyes that followed him as he disappeared.
One who did not raise his head to watch Harry leave, was Malfoy. He was determinedly occupied with cleaning his tie of cherry-stinking and he hardly noticed Harry leaving, but he did notice the fluttering sensation in his belly, without knowing what it actually meant.
"Bollocks!" Harry said out loud as he reached the top of the marble staircase. He was panting slightly from running up the stairs, and he backed up against the wall, hands on his knees, dropping to the floor. "Bollocks!" he repeated, now covering his face with his hands.
The only thing he could hope for was that Malfoy had ingested so little of the love potion, so that it would have no or at least very little effect on him.
He had no chance of being off the hook himself. He could feel a weird, faltering desire for the Slytherin, which in no way resembled the pure, undaunted love that the potion was meant to give you. Also he desperately wanted to write to Seamus for advice.
He heard footsteps running up the stairs and saw first Ron's red hair and right after Hermione's bushy brown hair appear, as they came up the steps. They stopped, however, when they caught sight of Harry sitting hunched against the wall. Ron just stood there looking sheepish, but Hermione stepped closer, slowly, as if she was approaching a bomb. "I'm sorry Harry. No one was supposed to drink the other cup."
"But it's alright, right?" Ron said hesitantly. "I mean Hermione can just make an antidote, right?"
"No I can't." she said. Her voice was apologetic, but firm.
"Sure you can." Ron said. "You're excellent at Potions."
"I mean I won't, Ron." She said, not looking at either one of the two boys. "I'm really sorry Harry, but what you did… Ron might be all forgiving, but I'm just so furious with you. How could you and Ginny do that?"
"But it's Malfoy!" Ron protested, but Hermione just shook her head.
"Hermione?" Harry's voice trembled slightly. "Please undo this. Please!"
"Oh, Harry. You're just so stupid. I love you, but you are just so stupid! This won't kill you, but maybe you'll get smarter" She turned around and hurried off towards the Common Room.
Harry looked at Ron, afraid that he too would blow up. But Ron just shrugged. "I donno, Harry. I guess she's right. What were you thinking? If you were sick of hearing us argue you should have told us."
Neither of the two boys could think of anything to say, so they just looked at each other shortly. "I'm sorry mate." Harry finally said, truly feeling it. Ron just smiled. "No thoughts. I kinda feel sorry for you though. You might adore Malfoy!"
"Of course I won't. His own parents couldn't adore him!" Harry said smiling, now feeling a great deal better, knowing that he and Ron were still friends. "I'm stronger than that. Where's Ginny?"
"She stayed behind to assure people that nothing's wrong. Dumbledore will see right through her though." Just then Ginny came running up the stairs.
"What happened?" Ron asked.
"Most of them hadn't even realized that anything had happened before you left, Harry, but I think they believed that you had just had too much to eat, and felt sick. Dumbledore didn't however, but I think he just might ignore it." Even though she had just been running up the stairs Ginny wasn't remotely out of breath. "How much did you drink?" she asked.
"Not much. But enough to feel… oh, damned! I do feel sick." Harry said feeling his own forehead with a trembling hand.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much. Malfoy hardly had any, and Hermione will be able to fix it all in a heart beat anyway."
"She won't." Ron said, sulking.
"She… what? She won't? But – well I understand that she's angry with you. But it's Draco."
"Yeah. But she just …won't." Ron repeated. "Suppose she's angry at you too, Ginny."
"I suppose. I do feel like a special kind of stupid, though."
Downstairs chairs were scraping against the floor, and soon happy Gryffindor voices could be heard coming towards the three.
"Let's get back to the Common Room. There is no more mayhem to be caused to night." Ron said, leading the way.
Harry didn't want to come down for any of the meals the next day, so he stayed in bed, hoping that he wouldn't ever have to come out of the dormitory. When he fell a sleep he dreamt of Malfoy, but it wasn't Malfoy, it was a faceless, nameless acing desire in a shadowy body. If he hadn't guessed that it had to be Malfoy, he would have thought it to be Lavender or Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw.
Ron spent the most of the days in the dormitory as well, except when he went down for meals. They didn't talk about the Potion, but Ron would sometimes start humming "Harry and Malfoy, sitting in a tree…", and Harry would throw a pillow in his face.
Hermione and Ginny dropped in on him and Ron right after lunch, which Harry found to be quite well-timed as he was running out of pillows to throw after Ron.
"How are you doing?" Hermione asked. Harry rubbed his brows. "I feel like I need to go see him."
Hermione frowned. "Well, perhaps you should then. He might not understand. I mean nobody ever told him that anything was in that Milkshake, and if he's feeling something too, he might be really worried and maybe frightened."
"Well he weren't at breakfast or lunch, so he might not be at dinner either. You could go and see him there." Ginny suggested. "All of the other Slytherins will be in the Great Hall."
Harry wasn't sure going down to Malfoy would be a very good idea. So far the desire felt like a dull pounding in his chest, but he was sure that the longer he ignored it, the worse it would burn.
Draco spent most of the day in bed. He had no idea that anything had been in the milkshake, but he knew that he felt weird. A burning desire had taken over his thoughts when he was awake and it brought dreams of some unknown shadowy lust when he dozed off.
Blaise Zabini came to collect his Aritmancy books and a half-done paper on triangles and the powers that they possessed right before dinner. "What's the matter? Are you sick?" he came over and rested his head against the post of Draco's bed.
"No. I just feel… stupid and tired and my stomach feels a bit odd." Malfoy said through the covers.
"Sounds like you've had your first period. Congrats!" Blaise joked.
"That's not amusing at all you wanker. I feel really weird."
"You just need to get out of bed and get some food and some fresh air. See Pansy and find a Hufflepuff to mess with."
"Well, I don't want to!" Malfoy hissed.
"You know what? Maybe you really are sick." He laughed. "Potter's sick too."
Malfoy snorted. "Potter's always sick."
"No. I mean he's in bed. Weasley told Theo."
"Don't talk to me about that git Weasley! He cost me forty minutes in the bathroom yesterday."
"Don't kid your self Malfoy. You would have spent forty minutes in the bathroom no matter what."
"I might have." Draco just said, not wanting to start another fight. He followed Blaise down to dinner and tried to concentrate on his food. But he couldn't help but notice that Potter wasn't there, but he assumed that the Gryffindor was still ill.
Harry had waited outside the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room until a first year had opened it from the inside. He had to guess which of the emerald doors was the right one, but he found the boy's hall in the first try. He stopped outside the door with the number 6 on it and waited while he gathered up the courage to knock on the door. When he finally did there was no reply. He pushed open the door only to find the dormitory deserted, the fire still burning in the hot stove in the middle of the room.
Harry breathed out. He hadn't been aware that he had been holding his breath in, he had been so nervous. What if Malfoy had actually been here? What would he have said? What could he have said? Hey Malfoy. Sorry if you suddenly want me?
He looked around trying to guess which bed was Malfoy's. It had to be the one with the emerald bedcovers and the fluffy green and silver slippers under the bed. A silver, silk robe hang on a hook on the right bedpost and the bed was neatly made. Harry tried to sit on the bed and he found it softer than his own – too soft for his taste, but maybe the beds fitted the persons. He lay back and closed his eyes, now realising that the bed smelled of cinnamon. Did Malfoy smell like cinnamon? Harry didn't know; He had never smelled Malfoy.
But he wanted to smell Malfoy. He wanted to breathe Malfoy in and burry his nose in the blonde's neck.
He let the hand on his stomach wander down to the bare skin where the shirt couldn't quite reach the pants. He felt the little hairs there rise as he had chills, and he let his fingers glide through them until he reached his own hardened erection. He started stroking it while he undid the zipper with the other hand to get more room. Slowly he let his hand glide up and down the length, feeling jolts of pleasure run through his entire body. He closed his eyes and saw Malfoy's face as a shadow, hearing him moaning his name – Harry.
He felt Malfoy's ghost fingers on his body and then he came into his own hand, panting while the desire still ran through his veins.
When Malfoy returned form dinner he tumbled in to his bed without noticing the ripples and wrinkles in the covers. He curled up and heard Blaise telling Theodore that if Potter didn't get better before school started again, they would have a decent chance of winning against Gryffindor in Quiddich.
Malfoy took a deep breath and noticed a strange smell. It smelled sweet, indecisive, but right. As if that sent was supposed to be mixed with his own.
He breathed in again letting the smell fill him until he knew it, until it was almost gone, then he got undressed and wormed under his covers. When he fell asleep, he dreamt of a nameless, faceless desire, which smelled sweet and right.
Eamon: What do you think? Slowly progressing… I promise they'll get together soon, but I also promise that it won't be gooey and off-character, because I hate when Harry and Malfoy fall desperately in love and forget all past quarrels. It doesn't work like that in real life. So slowly I'll increase the attraction, until they'll be too weak to stop themselves.
I'd adore you forever if you reviewed and told me whet you thought because I still don't have a beta who can tell me if it's junk. I know the spelling and grammar can be off, but I do try.
Eam
Copyright© Eamon Maydon
Odi et amo by Catullus:
Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, fortasse requiris.
nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior
Meaning:
I hate and I love. You ask me why it is so, but I do not know.
But I feel it and I am pained by it.