I, Uh …Like…Your Skirt
Chapter 2: Of Headmasters and Anger
Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own Harry Potter. I'm poor, so don't sue. I can only dream that anyone in the HP universe is gay. This story is totally fictional, and my idea. But it was inspired by the line, from Draco to Harry… "Well Potter its lovely to see you again, I uh...like...your skirt." It is from the story "A Walk Into Hell" by Sabrith Alastar. She granted me permission to use the line.
Warnings: This story will have slash in it. Those couples will include Harry/Draco and Siri/Undecided, either Remy or Sev or both. There will also be some Het tossed in there, because I have to go with the belief that not all the characters can be gay, as much as I may enjoy writing it.
Summary: AU. Draco caught sight of a boy, one he'd never seen at Hogwarts, in a tattered pink lace skirt. It convinced him that this year would be unlike any other. DM/HP. Semi-dark! Harry.
Final Note: Well, I'm just having a good night for writing on stories. Please leave reviews, i need some encouragement. OH! And there's another chapter on 'Running With The Monster', so read that one as well.
When Draco woke up the next morning he was shocked to find the black haired boy already gone from his bed and their dorm. He wondered where his new friend had gone off to so early in the day.
As he got ready for the day he thought back to the night before. James was thrashing about one moment and then silently crying the next. Draco had spent long minutes debating on what to do. He finally just wrapped his arms around the other boy and started whispering about his home, the Malfoy Manor, and its surrounding lands.
He could remember being relieved when the boy's breathing had evened out. He then contemplated his reaction for a few minutes before giving into the need for sleep.
Draco walked through the Slytherin common room and out the entrance, heading for the Great Hall. He assumed that James would be able to find his way there on his own, from where ever he was.
He sat down at the table taking a set between two of his classmates. The Slytherin table was almost full. He glanced around the hall with a seemingly uninterested gaze, but in actuality he was searching for the person that had been plaguing his thoughts since he woke that morning.
"Looking for your boyfriend?" Pansy sneered at him from across the table.
"Nope, he's not my boyfriend yet," Draco replied with a smirk.
Pansy looked shocked and Draco couldn't be bothered to apologize when he noticed a commotion at the three other tables. Every student had their attention turned towards the door, and were whispering excitedly with their neighbors. The Slytherins wore masks of indifference.
Draco couldn't decide if he was surprised or impressed that it was James who walked into the room. The boy had once again opted to forgo the robes and was wearing black pants with a matching, tight v-neck sweater.
The anger was radiating off of James in waves yet the only people who seemed to notice were in his own house. As he stalked towards the Slytherin table he thought about all the things that he would like to do to the Headmaster, and none of them would include a 'nice chat and tea'.
Before reaching the table he spotted Draco and started towards the blonde, knowing somehow that his presence would get rid of his anger. He didn't want to think about why that would help, but just wanted it to help before something bad happened.
A space was cleared without him having to say a word. He sat down quickly, grabbing an apple and starting to eat it. He could feel the questioning gaze of the other Houses' occupants. His shoulders tensed and he could feel his magic starting to gather.
Draco felt a change in the air around him and turned to find James tensed. He placed, what he hoped was, a calming hand, on his friends knee. He was shocked to feel a momentary flash of blind rage and then nothing.
James placed his hand over Draco's, intertwining their fingers and squeezing the pale hand. And Draco couldn't have been any more confused.
James walked through the halls quickly. He slipped behind a tapestry and down a narrow corridor. It was a secret passage that would take him to the third floor. Exiting through a different tapestry, he dusted the cobwebs off of his shirt and turned in the direction of his class.
"Mr. Black, just the young man I wanted to see."
"Headmaster," James replied, gritting his teeth, "I was just on my way to class."
"If you could accompany an old man to his office…" the statement was a command, not a suggestion or a question.
"Yes sir."
Once they reached the office the headmaster took a seat at his desk, motioning for James to sit in one of the empty chairs, "Would you like some tea, Ha-"
James cut him off, "Don't go against the terms of the agreement, Headmaster Dumbledore. I don't believe you'd like the consequences."
"You are a student here, James. You will abide by our rules. That includes listening to the professors," the elderly man stated, organizing several papers on his desk.
"I was getting to know my housemates. I do believe that it was far more important to meet the people I would be living with rather than having a chat with you and Professor Snape."
"Don't for a moment believe that you are in control here. You are a student and have yet to complete your training. I am your headmaster and you will treat me with the respect that position demands," gone was the twinkle in the old man's eyes. The light blue orbs had become navy with his anger.
James stood abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process, "No. You've got it wrong. You forced me to move here. You forced myself and my dad from a place we knew as home. You forced me into something I did not ask for nor want. I do not owe you respect. It is earned and you have yet to do something to earn it from me."
The headmaster was shocked into silence.
"I will attend classes and participate in Quidditch because I want to. This is something that I will live with because I have to, but I will not deal with you harassing me like you own me. You don't," James moved towards the door.
"Mr. Potter-"
James turned to face the headmaster once more, his hair flying. His voice was low and dangerous, "Dumbledore, I will say this only once more. Don't call me by that name. I was raised under the name James and I will be addressed as such. Harry Potter died with his parents and I was raised with my dad."
James exited the room calmly and with grace, shutting the door quietly behind him. He didn't look back once therefore missed the angry and shocked look on the headmaster's face.
Checking his watch, he knew that he had missed half of his Transfiguration class. He decided that he wouldn't bother with attending; instead he headed in the direction of the Slytherin Library.
Entering the secret room, he sighed, happy to see that it was empty. He moved to one of the tables, pulling a muggle pen and some notebook paper from his bag along with his Transfiguration book.
He opened the book to the chapter he was sure they would be covering today and read it. He had covered this already at his school in America but still felt the need to revise and take notes so that he would be able to write a paper if needed.
Soon the lunch bell sounded and he packed his supplies back into his bag and left, following the crowd of hungry, excited students.
"James! Where were you during Trans?" a voice behind him called out. He turned to see Blaise making his way through the crowd, "McGonagall almost had a fit when she got to your name on the roster and you weren't in the room."
"The headmaster wanted a chat and whom am I to keep from it?"
"It would be 'who am I'," Draco stated when he seemingly popped out of nowhere.
"Don't do stuff like that Draco! It's creepy," Blaise stated, looking anxious at Draco's sudden appearance.
"I'll do whatever I feel like," Draco replied, his mouth set in a pout.
James smiled at his friend, grasping the blonde's hand, "So how much fun did I miss in Trans?"
"Some Ravenclaw wasn't able to change her tea kettle back into a bird completely. So there was a tea kettle with feathers and a beak. It was great; the girl's face matched the Gryffindor Quidditch robes." Blaise smiled at the memory.
Draco turned his attention to the dark-haired boy, taking in the other's appearance. The boy's aura literally vibrated with power. But the colors he could see in it confused him, there was a rainbow of pastels with a brown and gray overlay. Yet the aura described James so well.
The pastels showed James's sensitivity, the brown described the boy's insecurity and the gray told of the guardedness. And looking at it closer, Draco would swear there was some gold.
Yes, James Black was definitely something different.
"Draco?" came the soft voice of the boy in question, "Do you want to go to the lake for a walk with me?"
Draco couldn't stop the smile that appeared on his face as he looked at James, "Sure."
The two boys walked along the edge of the lake. James spun around in circles at random times, and jumped from rock to rock.
Draco could see that they boy was calming down, relaxing. Some of the brown and gray seemed to melt away from the amazing aura, leaving only the pastel and gold.
"You're beautiful," he whispered to himself, but James's turned towards him as if he had heard, a smile and blush gracing the dark-haired boy's features.
James moved with grace, as he started jumping from rock to rock. He never lost his balance or seemed to slip on the moss that covered the rocks. He smiled brightly every time he remembered that Draco was watching him.
Draco could remember something his father told him when he was getting ready to travel to Hogwarts for the first time. His father had told him that when he met the person he was destined to spend his life with, he would know. And Draco knew, watching James as he moved, he knew.
"We should be going to get something to eat," Draco murmured into James's ear. The two had retreated to the shade of one of the many trees around the lake. James had climbed into Draco's lap, and awkwardly rested his head against the other boy's chest.
"I suppose you are right. And we have potions next," James replied with a sigh. He moved off of Draco's lap and offered the other boy a hand up.
Draco placed his hand in James's and wasn't surprised when their fingers were interlaced. They walked back to the looming castle slowly and Draco watched as the dirty colors made their way into James's aura once more.
The two made a quick stop at the kitchens before hurrying to the Potions classroom. Snape didn't acknowledge them as they walked in tardy.
James seemed to complement Draco's technique when making potions. The two worked flawlessly together. James could feel the professor's eyes on them, he knew the man was watching but didn't feel anxious.
Draco was surprised as he watched James work on the potion. The boy moved quickly with precise cuts and measurements. He could tell the other boy was confident in his ability to make the potion.
Soon the class was winding down and the professor walked to each table, criticizing or handing out praise as he deemed necessary. When he reached their table, Draco felt himself tense. He always hated this part, even though he knew he had the best potion in the entire class.
"Wonderful potion Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Black. Keep up the good work."
Once class was dismissed, the two left the room, leading towards the dorms, ready for the free hour they had. Draco allowed himself to plop down on the couch and wasn't the least bit surprised when James lay down, resting his head on the blonde's pant-clad thigh.
He moved his hand to run his fingers through the dark-silky locks, twisting strands around his long fingers. James sighed contently, and it was all the encouragement that Draco needed to continue his ministrations.
The common room started filling as their dorm-mates caught up with them. Draco watched as some of his friends gave him a shocked look before covering it up quickly. He knew that he'd had to write his father soon about what was going on.
Draco moved his fingers to James's face, letting his fingers ghost over the other boy's skin. He watched as the boy turned so he was facing upward. Draco had an unobstructed view of expressive eyes. He stared into those eyes for long moments, gathering the courage to say what he had to.
Draco felt rather than saw James lift his arm and wrap a hand around his neck, pulling him down into a hesitant kiss.
Pulling away from the kiss, Draco moved his fingers to trace James's features. He let his pale fingers trail over the elegant eyebrows and nose, ghosting over fluttering eyelids and pressing softly against warm lips.
"My dad always said that I'd know when I met my one. He suspected that they'd be at Hogwarts' but they weren't here. I hadn't been able to find them," Draco sighed happily when James intertwined their fingers, "But when I saw you on the platform, I knew you were it. You were my one."
Draco watched as James turned onto his side and buried his face into his stomach. The laying boy tried to curl himself around Draco, wanting the ache in his chest to subside.
James took a deep breath, smelling the scent that was completely Draco. He could feel the ache in his chest again. It was because he hadn't told Draco how he felt yet.
The comforting hand on his back reminded him that the blonde would wait forever. James knew in his heart the same fact. Taking another deep breath he turned to face the waiting blonde once more.
"I was afraid that you wouldn't believe me when I told you that you were my one," James whispered, "I was afraid that you're family would have been one of those that stopped believing in it."
Draco felt his heart soar. He leaned down and kissed James softly on the lips, before pulling away and moving to stand up, "I've got to write father and mother. They'll be happy for me."
"Okay. I'm going to go for a walk," James replied. Draco nodded, kissing him one last time before walking towards the dorm. James headed in the opposite direction, towards an empty classroom on the third floor.
After locking and sealing the doors to the empty classroom, James got to work. He moved all the desks against the wall, stacking them to leave the greatest amount of room. He pulled a trunk out of his pocket and unshrunk it.
Opening one of the compartments he wasn't surprised when a figure climbed out. The man dusted off his robes, scowling at James.
"Took you long enough to let me out! Were you ever going to make time to train?"
"It's only been one day. And I found my one today. So I don't know how that's going to affect my training," James replied.
"We're going to go at the same pace as we always have. You are going to be ready to defeat Tom by the next meeting. Even if I have to beat it into you."
"As opposed to the love that you've used to train me all these years? Dad knows, you know. He knows that you've got me doing the Unforgiveables with someone else's wand. He's not stupid."
"If you can control them with someone else's wand, you can easily control them with your own. Besides you are the one that wanted to learn them. I said that we should wait until your seventeenth birthday. But no, you had to have it your way."
"I will decide what I need to know and when I want to learn it. You are forgetting who was able to help you breathe again. You are forgetting who has control over the spell that keeps your throat from collapsing."
"I am sorry," the man said, bowing slightly.
"I know you are. We need to train now. I want to know the best way to torture someone," James stated, "Without magic."