Disclaimer: Harry Potter and characters belong to J.K. Rowling and co.

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Chapter 3

Professor Larson was a twenty-four year old wizard with troubles he had overcome and with a tiny problem he had never been able to forget.

He was gay.

It had actually happened overnight in his late years. He knew he was good looking, and he had flaunted his looks too. In his own school he had been around (really been around) with most of the girls, but never one of the guys. It was almost unheard of in those days and, truth be told, he had never felt sex with girls as exciting as everyone told, so he had decided sex was the same, both with men and with women, and had quenched his curiosity at an early age.

He had graduated with high grades and had gone on with no idea what to do in life when opportunity knocked on his door. A muggle-modeling agency had seen him and had contacted him, to see if he would like to work for them.

Jake Larson had been born to muggle parents, rather rich muggle parents at that, who would not put up with any business having to do with magic but with persuasion skills far beyond his years, Jake had been able to go to school. A wizard's school, that is.

He loved magic and read every book there was. With this new job, though, he knew he would have to leave most magic behind and so refused, but the agency was not going to give up that easily. They pleaded and begged and asked him for one photo-shoot in which he would be paid a hefty amount of money and so he agreed.

Jake went into the studio that day, took pictures, and never once knew what was in store for him.

By the end of the week he was getting phone calls from agencies asking if he would like to join and he (at first politely) refused but they continued calling. He sighed and shuffled around the apartment his parents had generously provided for him when he found an owl, the first he had received in a while. He had not had too many friends back in school and so had never expected an owl.

With curiosity, he got the letter and opened it. His eyes slightly widened and his head started working.

'There were wizarding modeling agencies?'

Apparently so and he eagerly sent his reply and packed his bags. He was going to London.

Of course, being away from London, he had never once heard of the boy who lived and so, at eighteen, sitting in the Leaky Cauldron and relaxing himself, he was annoyed at the reaction and stir that a half giant and a pale boy with a scar on his forehead and glasses had made. After all, a half giant was not anything out of the ordinary in the wizarding community.

That was when he first heard the tale of the boy-who-lived from a gypsy looking woman with a patch over one eye and graying curly hair falling down her back. He had hidden his amazement and, although he did not quite understand the extent of this 'You-Know-Who' person's power, he had an idea.

That was also the day he, along with millions of other witches and wizards, became infatuated with the boy who lived.

He lived for about four years doing modeling work and learning little about Harry Potter until he practically forgot. He was now a well-reputed model and had enough women to satisfy him forever, but that was not enough.

He found himself with a friend one day that went by the name of André. He was part of the modeling agency and was two years older than Jake was, though one year older in modeling experience.

André had come up to Jake, flirting, and Jake had immediately blurted out that he was not gay. André had only winked at him and told him he would see him the next day. The next day they had talked about something else and so the weeks passed by without a mention of homosexuality until Jake was invited to a party.

Andre's flamboyant self should have been warning enough.

Jake had gone, gotten drunk and done things he did not want to remember and things he wished he had not enjoyed. But he had. And that was when the change started.

That was also the day Jake saw Harry, grown up now, in an edition of the Daily Prophet.

In two months, he definitely knew he was gay, was disowned by his family, and had little to survive on since he had quit the agency.

He needed a job. He needed to clear his mind.

He worked odd jobs, selling things here, advertising things there, for around two years until he met Professor McGonagall in the streets, had a chat with her, was flattered by her knowledge of his modeling career, and was offered a job at Hogwarts after announcing his financial problems and instability of jobs.

Jake was taken aback but had immediately composed himself and asked what he would be teaching, taking the idea to mind and not minding the thought at all. After all, he enjoyed reading.

Professor McGonagall explained the job position, urged for acceptance, and Jake had agreed.

"Call me Minerva," she had said before piling papers that explained what he was to teach onto Jake and leaving him with a smile.

Jake had gone home after a quick stop at the bookstore and had dropped his pile onto the floor. He could either go earlier than expected and be there before the students or travel on the train with the students. He looked at his calendar and saw he had enough time left to decide. If he left early, it would be in three months. If he left late, it would be in four. He chose the four months and began reading, proposing himself to study and learn his material well. If he was going to be a professor, he was going to be good at it.

Plus, he was a bit rusty with his magic.

And not once did he remember about the Golden boy and what school he attended.

It was not until he was at the train stop and looking out the window at the passing students, trying to be inconspicuous, that he saw the green eyes, the mark, and the glasses.

That was also when he noticed an aristocratic blonde boy looking at Harry with a mixture of feelings Jake was sure he could interpret into something he did not like.

And now here he was, next to Harry, and putting away the books he had packed, laughing and talking and wishing he could do more. Wishing he could reach out and touch the soft skin, feel the warmth of his body against his own, feel their lips pressing together.

But he could not. Plus, the prestigious Harry Potter was not gay. And he was the teacher. He had to quench the lust.

And he was succeeding until he heard Harry admit he was gay. Then his reserve fell loose.

Professor Larson could not believe the conversation Harry was having and the insinuation that Draco was making. Jake was not going to try anything though, no. He was just going to slowly befriend Harry first. He listened to the voices going on in the room beside him and, when he heard them stop talking, he stepped outside quietly.

He saw Draco standing beside his box, looking slightly uncomfortable and ruffled and with his eyes on Harry's back. Larson scowled slightly, knowing full well that his intuition about the boy's feelings was right and hating him for that. He cleared his throat and waited for both boys to turn to him before telling Harry he was being promoted to the bookshelves while leaving Draco with the boxes, and although he was sure he heard pages ruffling in the other room, he did not really pay any mind to it. Instead, he talked with Harry and tried to get Harry to loosen up. He patted Harry on the back after checking the time and even went as far as placing an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"He'll probably take it as a sign of friendship or something of the sort," Professor Larson thought, loving the flush that was already spreading on Harry's cheeks but keeping himself under control from doing anything more. He inwardly grinned as he saw a small, dark look pass over Draco's face before it was replaced by a smirk even before he announced they could go, and he felt something in his mind warn him that something was wrong and so he watched Draco as he left, but nothing gave him away.

Draco walked behind Harry, far away enough not to get noticed but close enough not to loose track of him. He knew where Harry was going, but it was all calculated, down to the timing (which had to be perfect) and so he, with a mild look in his eye and hair falling over his face, walked up right behind Harry, object in hand, invisibility cloak he had borrowed from a close friend now over him. He waited as Harry knocked and the door slowly opened to reveal a smiling Larson extending his arm to usher Harry inside.

That was when Draco sprung forward and cuffed Harry's wrist. Harry turned and looked at him, reaching out to draw away the cloak he had figured someone was using while Draco stood frozen still, unsure as to why exactly he had stopped.

He had gone over the plan in his mind. He was going, with the handcuffs he had found, tie Harry and Professor Larson together. How to get the cuffs off was almost impossible and, although one handcuffed pair had gotten out, they had not showed how. The key was also lost somewhere and had not been found for various centuries. And so he had calculated everything, how he was going to cuff both, how he was going to laugh at their humiliation, and how much fun it was going to be watching them struggle.

But now that he stood there, he could not. Something was stopping him. Something in him did not want to unite Harry and Professor Larson together. Something in him wanted them as far away from each other as humanly possible.

And so, in that fraction of a second that Draco hesitated, Harry snatched out impulsively, got the other open cuff, and expertly snapped it shut over Draco's wrist, without thinking about what he was doing and, even less, getting into.

Professor Larson only watched as the events unraveled and his eyes went wide once he recognized the handcuffs and the properties they held. He stretched out his arm to stop Harry but he was too late and he inwardly groaned, fearing the worst, as he heard the snap as they closed.

"Do you know what you've done, Potter?" Draco yelled, once he regained his composure after realizing it was he who was stuck on to Harry and not Professor Larson.

"No, but whatever it was you were doing to me, you're now stuck in," Harry retorted, looking at the chain that linked them together. "What exactly were you planning on doing, Malfoy?"

"What does it look like, Potter? I had thought you would have figured it out by now. I was handcuffing you."

"And why exactly would you do that?" Harry asked, confused and beginning to worry about what kind of handcuffs they were.

Draco, though, stayed silent and bit his lip. He was stuck to Potter. He was not going to be able to get rid of him unless a solution was found, and this was the last thing he needed.

"If I'm correct, those are Gurd's Handcuffs. He was a talented blacksmith in the medieval ages and a powerful wizard who loved mischief. These are his own creation and… I do not think you two know the extent of what you have gotten yourself into. Come on, we have to head over to the Headmaster's office," Professor Larson aid, glaring at the handcuffs warily. He stepped out into the hallway and began walking when he heard someone stumbling behind him.

"Don't touch me, Potter!"

"I wouldn't have to if you wouldn't have put these bloody things on me in the first place!"

Draco only glared at him, still unsure of what he was feeling and in a foul mood altogether.

Professor Larson stared at both boys and the handcuffs that were placed on their wrist. He grimaced slightly as he noticed that both had their right wrists handcuffed.

"Stop moving so much," Draco said, tugging on the handcuffs and pulling on Harry.

Harry pulled back, a scowl on his face. "How about you stop moving?"

Draco glared at him when Professor Larson pulled up to them and looked at them gravely. "Harry, Draco, please behave. We are almost there. Harry, walk on this side. Draco, if you can, please walk right behind Harry."

Draco scowled but moved behind Harry, not glancing at either of them. Professor Larson placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and gently squeezed it, sending him a reassuring smile before continuing on their trek.

Professor Larson muttered the headmaster's password and led them up, knocking slightly before entering, both boys behind him. The head master looked up, his eyes twinkling, and he looked not at all surprised as the events were unraveled.

"And why were you planning on handcuffing Professor Larson and Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked once they were done. Draco looked at him and shifted uncomfortably, trying to piece words together and, unable to, merely shrugged in response. Dumbledore let it slip and looked at both of them.

'You two do know you'll have to continue classes, even in your present condition. The only thing I can do is offer you your own private quarters until this situation is… settled. Have you two thought about the necessary arrangements that will have to be made?"

Both Harry and Draco started at him, the situation finally settling in, and they looked at each other, a look that held fear and hate mingled together.

"Aren't you going to take these off, Professor?" Harry asked, his voice coming out in tremulous shakes.

"I'm afraid it's not known how to take those handcuffs off. The key will be looked for and, in the meanwhile, both of you will use your weekends and extra time to try and figure out the other remedy, but that is all we can do right now," Professor Dumbledore replied.

"So, how long am I going to be stuck to Potter, Professor?" Draco asked in the same voice Harry had used.

"That we're not sure, Draco. It may be a day, it may be a week, it could even be years, but let's hope not, until they come off," Professor Dumbledore said, stopping to allow the words to sink in before continuing.

"Now, Professor Larson, I am putting you in charge of those two boys. If wanted, you can stay in the quarters that will be arranged for them and I assume you will be willing to look for the key or the solution," Dumbledore said and, receiving a nod, continued.

"Both of the head of your houses will be told of the situation, and since you will be attending class, I assume the school body is soon to notice the position you both have been placed in. Do not worry, though. Due to circumstances, this will not leave Hogwarts and, Draco, I am going to ask you one thing," Dumbledore said.

"Don't worry, sir, I won't tell them," he replied, knowing what Dumbledore meant even before it was asked of him. "It's humiliating enough at school, I don't want my parents finding out," he huffed.

"Very well then. Professor Larson, they are to take the room in the tower, the one I showed you before, if you remember. Take them there. Their things should have arrived by then. The only piece of advice I can give you two now is to work things out and also, work out a schedule. You two are in for troublesome days," Professor Dumbledore said, looking at both of them critically.

"Oh, and one more thing," Dumbledore said as they began to leave, "Stay in tomorrow and Sunday to work things out and learn how to get around. It will be hard learning to do things with someone else watching your every move. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Granger will be told, but you cannot see them until Monday, and same goes to your friends, Draco. Expect visits from your head houses. Professor Larson, you may take them now."

Harry and Draco shuffled out, Harry trying to walk as far behind Draco as he could as Professor Larson led them down a series of hallways and before a suit of armor.

"Scabbard Rust," Professor Larson said, and the armor stepped aside silently, revealing a door behind it.

He ushered them both in and they both went in, moving cautiously and looking around the room.

"It's spacious," said Harry.

"Are you going to stay with us?" asked Draco.

"I don't really see any need to, though I will for the first few days just to make sure you two get… adjusted," Professor Larson said, looking at both of them and smiling a small smile.

'I'll be over there and that will be your room," he said, pointing to two doors beside each other.

"Now Draco, whatever possessed you to use Gurd's handcuffs!"

Draco, once again, shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know," Draco finally said. "It just seemed like a good idea at the time."

"An idea for what? Fun?" Professor Larson began, his voice slightly rising. "Do you know how long two people can remain stuck like this? Forever! But there have been cases where one kills themselves, or the other first. Is this what you wanted Draco? Bloody hell, you have put yourself in a delicate situation here, and not only that, you have placed Harry in the situation as well! Where was your logic, Draco? Where?"

Draco looked at Professor Larson with a cold look and turned away. "I knew what I was doing and what I would be getting the wearer of the handcuffs into. Technically, it is not my fault the handcuffs are on me. Harry's the one who snapped one on my arm," Draco said, looking over at Harry who strangely had not said a word.

"True," Harry said quietly and in a voice that chilled the other two. "It was my fault. I was impulsive and snapped it on Draco when I could have simply taken it away."

A silence fell and neither of the other two knew what to say.

"Well," Professor Larson finally said, breaking the engulfing silence and stepping out towards the door, "I have to go gather my things. I'll be back in a few minutes, although I'd feel much better with someone in here."

"Sir, we can take care of ourselves and don't worry. My wand was left back in my room if you were worried I was suddenly going to kill your precious Potter," Draco said, sitting down on a couch and pulling Harry with him, who only stood standing beside him at an awkward position.

Professor Larson glared slightly at Draco before stepping out of the room. "I'll be right back," he muttered before continuing on his way.

"So," Draco said after the door closed. He turned to face Harry, who was doing his best of avoiding Draco altogether and was staring hard at the floor. "I'm not enjoying this either, Potter, you don't have to sulk."

"You don't get it, do you?" asked Harry, suddenly turning on him with blazing green eyes. "You don't understand what the fuck we're in. We are probably going to end up killing each other, Malfoy, and you're just sitting there like everything's' fine. You're fucking attached to me. Oh god," Harry said, muttering everything with hard gestures that pulled Draco up to his feet.

"Why don't you just cut off your arm then?" Draco asked, glaring at him furiously and crossing his arms, pulling Harry closer.

"Why don't you cut yours off?" Harry asked, tagging back forcefully and with an aggravated look on his face.

Draco glared at him angrily, hands now at his side and inches away from Harry. "I'm not desperate enough," Draco said, "Plus, you can do it."

"Right," Harry said. "How about I just cut yours off?" He muttered threateningly.

Draco glared at him. "Well, since no one's willing to give up a limb, we're going to have to find another solution," he said calmly and composed.

Harry looked at him disgustedly and suddenly sat down, drawing an unbalanced Draco on top of him.

"Get off me," Harry exclaimed, pushing Draco off.

Draco hastily pushed himself off of Harry and turned away, feeling suddenly very hot and flustered at the contact he had just come into.

Harry now had his eyes closed, though, and so had missed the looks that had passed over Draco. Draco sighed and started staring around until Professor Larson came back.

"But Dumbledore, how can you act so calmly?" asked Jake, looking at the old man before him incredulously.

"What else was I supposed to do, Jake? If I had showed even the slightest hint of bewilderment, the slightest hint that there was something incredibly wrong, that there was the possibility of failure, that there was no hope at all, what do you think they would have done?" Dumbledore said, sighing as he sat once more down.

Both McGonagall and Snape had left, both infuriated and with requests to see the two boys. They were both ready to yell at them, felt their anger boiling over and felt themselves wondering exactly how stupid the students could be. Now only Jake remained up in the tower, trying to get things sorted out with Dumbledore.

"Like I said before then, we will do all we can to figure out how to solve this… situation," Dumbledore stated. "We will meet tomorrow, here, in the afternoon, without the boys to discuss what can be done. We don't want to leave them in the dark, but we don't want to frighten them either."

Jake nodded, understanding.

"I want you to make sure they get adjusted, Jake. They should trust you, I know Harry already does. Explain to them and try to find ways that will facilitate the things that have to be done."

Jake once again, only nodded before receiving a leave from Dumbledore and heading back to the tower, not noticing the aging and tired look on the old face behind him, the twinkling now gone from his eyes and a heavy sigh erupting from his mouth.

"Well, I'm glad to see you two were able to spend some time together without being at each other's throats," Jake said as he entered the silent room, a pile of books hovering behind him.

Draco gave him a quick, cool glance before turning away and staring at the table he had been staring at for the past few minutes and Harry didn't open his eyes in response.

Jake sighed and walked towards his room, dropped off his books, and came back out. "It's pretty late," he said, emphasizing the statement by looking at his watch. Upon receiving no response, he continued. "You two need your sleep, so come on," he said, walking towards the room.

He turned back and saw Draco still rooted to his place in the couch with Harry beside him. "Are you two going to come or not?" he asked, beginning to get irritated.

"He's asleep," Draco stated, pointing to Harry. Professor Larson looked at him startled before nodding.

"Ok then," he said and lifting up the body with his wand, led it into the bedroom, the blonde following close behind.

They entered a rather bland room, with walls that were painted white and black and two beds, both with two different comforters, one white and one black. The whole room seemed to be centered on white and black.

Professor Larson placed Harry's body on the nearest bed before turning to Draco. He studied the beds and then moved the other bed right next to Harry's.

"What are you doing?" asked Draco as he saw both beds being put together.

"Well, I don't think either of you will want to sleep with an arm hanging down," he said, before stepping out. "Goodnight and all your things should be in place by morning."

Draco heard the door click and, too tired to do anything and too afraid to think, he fell down on the bed, as far away from Potter as he could, and fell into a very light sleep.

A/N: Sorry it took so long -- I blame school and its work and sigh But spring break is here and I plan on trying to at least finish half of it. Hoorah! Hope I don't rush it though…. Again, sorry I updated so late. The plot is something I saw once on the 'Smurfs'. So I'm working based on their handcuff idea but with a twist. Hope it turns out good. Well, enjoy! (Reviews are welcome!)