A/N: Ok, i wont give anything away, so just read this chapter and i'll see you at the bottom!
B.S. Froste
-CHAPTER FIFTEEN-
Young, Innocent and Incredibly Beautiful
February 14th dawned bright and sunny, melting any further snow. It became clear at breakfast that Gilderoy Lockhart had not forgotten that it was Valentine's Day.
Harry hadn't had much sleep because of a late running Quidditch practice the night before, and he hurried down to the Great Hall slightly late. He thought for a minute he'd walked through the wrong doors.
The walls were all covered in large lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. As Harry approached the Gryffindor table he saw Ron sitting looking sickened, and Hermione had seemed to have come over all giggly.
"What the hell's up with her, aye?" he said to Ron.
"I wanna know what the fuck's up with the decorations!" Ron looked around in disgust.
"Yeah, dunno…" Harry prayed it wasn't what he thought it was.
To his utter disgust, Lockhart was standing at the teachers' table, waving his hands for silence.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. Harry noticed he was wearing robes of garish pink. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all- and it doesn't end here!"
Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs however, Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.
"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your Valentines."
"Great…" said Ron, sarcastically.
All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver Valentines, to the annoyance of the teachers. Late that afternoon as the Gryffindors were walking upstairs for Charms, one of them caught up with Harry.
"Oi, you, Harry Potter!" shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf, elbowing people out of the way to get to Harry.
Hot all over at the thought of being given a Valentine in front of Ron, Harry tried to escape.
"I've got a musical message to deliver to Harry Potter in person," said the dwarf, twanging his harp in a threatening sort of way.
"Not here!" hissed Harry.
The dwarf grabbed hold of Harry's bag, pulling him back.
"Let me go!" snarled Harry tugging.
With a loud ripping noise, his bag split in two. His books, wand, parchment and quill spilled onto the floor and his inkpot smashed over the lot. On top of the mess was a love heart shaped photo frame with a picture of him and Draco in it. He quickly bent to pick it up.
"What's going on here?" came the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. Harry started stuffing everything feverishly into his ripped bag, desperate to get away before Malfoy could hear his musical Valentine.
"Right," said the dwarf, "here is your singing Valentine."
'His hair is as dark as the night,
when I first dreamed of making love to him,
his lips are all I long for.
I wish he would notice and hold me again,
for I will love him forever more.'
-Pw2
Harry would've given his life to just evaporate on the spot. Trying valiantly to laugh along with everyone else, he looked around, Draco wasn't laughing. Harry's eyes pleaded for him to help, Draco nodded.
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" his boyfriend yelled, glaring at everyone. The crowd fell silent and looked at him. "We get the point it's funny, yeah, but I think we've managed to embarrass Potter enough for today, don't we all think?"
A few people nodded. Malfoy looked satisfied, "Well," he said, "You've had your fun, now piss off."
The crowd thinned and eventually disappeared. Malfoy looked around and caught sight of Ron trying to sneak off with everyone else.
"Great work, Weasley!" he yelled after him. "I don't think Potter liked your Valentine much!"
Ron covered his face and ran. Draco glared after him. He then turned back to Harry.
"Thankyou so much," said Harry.
Malfoy studied his face; it looked as though he was about to burst into tears. Harry's bottom lip began to tremble. Draco glanced up and down the corridor, it was deserted. He came over to Harry, putting his arms around him and holding him tight.
Harry broke down entirely; it'd all been too much. He buried his face in Draco's shirt and cried silently.
"There, there," said Malfoy, gently rubbing his back. "C'mon Harry, it's alright now."
Harry sniffed deeply and raised his head, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.
"God, what must you think of me now?" The tears began to build up again.
"Hey," said Draco, "No. No one could've handled anything as embarrassing as that better than you just did." He smiled gently and wiped another tear from Harry's cheek.
"Not even you?" asked Harry looking into his boyfriend's twinkling grey eyes.
"Well…" said Draco thoughtfully.
Harry laughed and poked him in the stomach.
"What?" asked Malfoy, eyes flashing.
"You are so up yourself, you know that?" said Harry smiling.
"What, it comes naturally to me," said Draco. "So you alright now?"
"Yeah," said Harry, his emotions stable once again. "Thanks again," he leant over and kissed Draco swiftly on the cheek.
"Anytime mate," said Malfoy. "Hey I gotta get going, you alright to get to class?"
"Course," said Harry. "That was just a one off break down. Well bye."
Draco smiled and Harry watched him until he was out of sight. God I'm lucky to have him, he thought.
Harry made it through the rest of the day without another breakdown. However, when he got back to the dormitory he noticed that the only thing in his bag that was not covered in ink was the diary, all his other books were drenched. He sat down on his four-poster and flicked through the blank pages. Not one had a trace of ink on it.
He got out his quill and inkpot and dropped a blot of ink onto the first page of the diary. It shone on the paper for a second and then vanished as though being sucked into the page.
Excited, Harry reloaded his quill and wrote, "My name is Harry Potter."
The ink once again vanished.
Oozing back out of the page, in his own ink came words Harry had never written, "Hello Harry, my name is Tom Riddle, up for some fun tonight?"
Harry quickly wrote back, "I'm sorry but I've never heard of you…"Once again the ink returned displaying the words, "I was at Hogwarts fifty years ago, I have preserved my memory in this diary…I am awfully lonely in here, Harry."
Harry replied, "Oh, sorry to hear that. What do you do in there all day?"Riddle replied, "Oh, I draw quite a lot." A picture appeared. It was of two stick figures, one bending over, and the other standing behind it. Even through Harry's inexperienced eye, he knew this was a disturbingly detailed picture of gay sex.
"Wow, that's really cool." Harry wrote.
"See that one standing up, Harry? That's me…""Oh yeah, cool."
"Guess who the other one is…"Harry had no idea what Riddle was implying, but that didn't stop him from writing, "Yeh, I get where you're coming from."
"So are you up for it?" Riddle asked.
"Yeah sure," said Harry.
"I guess I'll be seeing you soon then, Harry…""Uh…yeah, but I was just wondering, seeing as you've been around for fifty years…"
"Don't get turned off by that, I'm still sixteen, don't worry…""No, it's not that, I was wondering if you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"
"Why, yes, I do…" Riddle replied.
"Can you tell me?" Harry asked apprehensively.
"No…but I can show you…" Harry paused for a few seconds and then wrote two letters, "O.K."The pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, stopping halfway through the month of June. Mouth hanging open, Harry watched as the center of the page began to glow and ripple. His hands trembling slightly, he raised the book to his eye squinting at the moving page, and before he knew what was happening, he was tilting forwards, a gaping tunnel opening in the diary's page, he felt his body leave his bed and he was pitched head first into the opening in the page, into a whirl of colour and shadow. He felt his feet hit solid ground and he stood, shaking as the blurred shapes around him came suddenly into view.
He knew immediately he was in the school's entrance hall, yet everything was eerily quiet, quite different from the atmosphere in the entrance hall he knew.
Standing at the half way landing of the stairs in front of him, stood a boy that couldn't have been older than sixteen. He was much taller than Harry, but he, too, had jet-black hair. His skin appeared smooth and well tanned. He had well-defined cheekbones; perfect lips, and Harry thought his striking greenish, dark grey eyes looked mysterious and inviting. Harry stared in awe. The boy would've had to be the hottest male of his age Harry had ever seen. Not to mention his bulging package.
"Ah, hi there," said Harry tentatively.
The boy didn't move, he continued to watch something out of Harry's view.
Harry walked towards him, "Ah…" he cleared his throat. "Excuse me?"
The boy still showed no recognition of Harry being there. What was happening suddenly dawned on him- he can't hear me, but can he see me?
Harry waved his hand in front of the boy's face; he was even hotter up close. The boy still didn't seem to notice him. It seemed, that he, Harry, was little more that a phantom, completely invisible to people of the fifty year old memory.
Harry walked around the boy, guiltily eyeing every inch of his body…
He stopped and looked up in the direction of his companion's attention. There, at the top of the stairs, huddled a group of concerned looking teachers. Harry's mouth opened in horror as a stretcher was brought past them and carried down the stairs, past him and the boy. A white sheet lay over the outline of a body. As the stretcher-bearers rounded the turn in the landing, an arm slipped from under the sheet and dangled limply at the stretcher's side. Harry's eyes widened; the arm's skin was pale and bluish, it looked almost frozen. Whoever was under there must've been…
Harry swallowed.
"Riddle!" A voice rang out from above, drawing Harry and the boy's attention back to the teachers.
The voice belonged to a tall wizard with long, sweeping grey hair and a beard. Harry gaped at him- he was none other than a fifty-year-younger Dumbledore.
"Come," Dumbledore motioned towards the boy at Harry's side, whom Harry now knew was the Tom Riddle he had just been talking to.
Tom reached the top of the stairs and raised an eyebrow, "Professor Dumbledore?"
"It is not wise to be wandering round this late hour, Tom."
"Yes, Professor," said Tom looking over at the huddle of teachers then back to Dumbledore. "I suppose I… -I had to see for myself- if the rumours were true…"
"I'm afraid they are- Tom- they are true- the rumours, that is- Tom- yes- the rumours- Tom- are, I'm afraid- true."
Riddle's eyes showed disappointment, "About the school as well? I don't have a home to go to- they wouldn't really close Hogwarts, would they, Professor?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily, "I understand, Tom, but I'm afraid Headmaster Dippet may have no choice."
"Sir," Riddle glanced around warily, "if it all stopped, if the person responsible was caught…"
Dumbledore frowned, giving Tom exactly the kind of penetrating stare Harry knew well. "Is there something," he raised an eyebrow, "you wish to tell me?"
"No, sir," replied Riddle, his face emotionless and unreadable, "nothing."
Dumbledore nodded, "Very well then, off you go."
"Goodnight, sir." Riddle walked quickly past Dumbledore, heading straight down the stone steps to the dungeons, with Harry in hot pursuit.
Riddle led him down a passageway off to one side of the dungeons' main path. At the end of the corridor stood an ancient-looking wooden door. Tom walked swiftly up to the door and twisted the handle. The door swung open to reveal the dark outline of a huge boy who was crouching in front of a very large box.
The large boy turned round and yelped at the sight of Riddle.
Riddle had a malicious look about him, "Evening Hagrid," he said, glancing around the shabby room and then back to the boy.
Harry let out a small gasp- Hagrid!
"I'm going to have to turn you in, Hagrid," Riddle continued. "I don't think you meant it to hurt anyone, but-"
"But you can't!" Hagrid interrupted in alarm. "You don't understand."
Tom rolled his eyes and sighed, glaring at Hagrid, "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow, the best thing Hogwarts can do is to make sure the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered…"
"It wasn't him!" roared the young Hagrid, "Aragog never killed no one- NEVER!"
"Monsters don't make good pets, Hagrid," Riddle said softly. His voice grew firm and he drew out his wand, "now stand aside-"
"NO!" yelled Hagrid, confidently planting himself between Riddle and the box.
"STAND ASIDE!" yelled Riddle. His spell lit the room with a sudden flaming light. The box's lid was blasted off. Harry screamed and hid behind Tom.
A vast, low slung, hairy body and a tangle of black legs; a gleam of many eyes and a pair of razor-sharp pincers climbed from the box. Riddle raised his wand but was too late. The thing scrambled past him, bowling him over, tearing up the corridor and out of sight. Tom scrambled to his feet, looking after it; he raised his wand, but Hagrid leapt on him, seized his wand and threw him back down, yelling, "NOOOOOOO!"
Riddle gasped for breath under the weight of the large boy. "I- I can't let you go," he panted, "They'll have your wand for this Hagrid. You'll be expelled."
The scene whirled, the darkness became complete, Harry felt himself falling and with a crash, he landed spread-eagled on his four-poster in the Gryffindor dormitory, Riddle's diary lying open on his stomach.
Before he had time to regain his breath, the dormitory door opened and Ron came in.
"There you are," he said.
Harry sat up. He was sweating and shaking.
"What's up?" said Ron, looking at him with concern.
Should I tell Ron what I just saw? Harry decided against it for the time being, it would only worry Ron and make him think that he was crazy- talking to old books.
Harry shook his head, "nothing."
"Then why are you all sweaty?" asked Ron, frowning. His eyes widened, "Actually- ew- no, I don't wanna know."
Harry blushed and looked at Ron, "No Ron, it's not that, I wasn't-""Yeah, whatever Harry. What you do in your spare time I don't want to know about, ok? By the way, this just arrived for you." Ron held out a small lavender envelope.
Harry climbed from the bed and took it from Ron, their hands touching momentarily. Ron grimaced at the contact. Harry sighed dramatically, "Look Ron, I haven't been doing anything like that," He said in a desperate voice, wringing his hands.
Ron just looked at him; back at Harry's messed up bed and then backed towards the door looking revolted.
"You're sick for thinking it!" Harry yelled after him.
He lay back down on his bed, the envelope still in hand. I guess it's another valentine, he thought.
He looked over at the several others he'd received throughout the day. One from Hermione thanking him for their friendship, one from Fred and George crapping on about corn and life, an odd one from Dumbledore wishing him luck with his love life and one from Draco with a naughty message inside. And, of course, there had been the musical one from Ron. Harry had decided Ron had either been drunk or delirious at the time of thinking it up. He looked at them all sitting on his bedside table and smiled to himself. He held up the latest one and ripped it open; the card was plain with a heart on the front. Inside it read: 10.30pm outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. Don't be late. Harry frowned, it wasn't in Draco's handwriting but whom else could it have been from. He dismissed it as Draco trying to keep their relationship even more of a secret by writing in a different print.
He checked his watch: it was 10.25pm.
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Outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts room Harry waited. A hand tugged on the back of his cloak. Harry turned smiling, his smile faltered when he saw whom it was. It wasn't Draco but his worst nightmare."Fuck," whispered Harry.
"That's the plan," Lockhart said erotically.
He grabbed Harry and dragged him into the classroom, pushing him against the wall. He flicked out his wand, and muttered a spell. Harry felt his body suction backwards against the wall; he tried to pull away from it and failed. His eyes widened in fear.
"Nothing to worry about Harry. Just a simple suction charm."
Lockhart eyed his prize. He came right up to Harry, pushing his body up against him. With a quick movement, he licked Harry's lips, and then looked into his eyes smirking. Harry spat, hitting Lockhart in the right eye. Lockhart didn't let this deter him, he wiped the spit from his eye and began licking down Harry's chin and neck leaving goose bumps on Harry's skin. Lockhart grabbed the top of Harry's shirt and ripped it open, he began to lick at Harry's chest excitedly.
"Oh god!" he muttered. "Let's move on," he knelt down.
His hands were shaking as he slowly pulled down Harry's pants and then his boxers. He whimpered at the sight. Harry couldn't help but get aroused.
"Oh thank you god," said Lockhart, licking his lips. He opened his mouth and closed it around Harry's erect penis. He sucked, holding onto Harry's ass from behind and pushing his body in a thrusting motion, in and out of his mouth.
Harry began to pant, his body coming over all hot; it was even better than when Dobby did it. All of a sudden he felt like he was going to explode, he let out a loud moan. All his muscles seized and with one wonderful release of tension his body relaxed. Lockhart choked.
"Spit or swallow, Harry? You decide."
"Ah…spit?"
"You're the boss." Lockhart got to his feet and spat a white substance onto the floor beside them.
"Well, that was fun," said Lockhart, his face suddenly turned grave. "Why?" he demanded, "Why did you do it?"
"Do what?" said Harry glaring at the man in front of him.
"Why'd you smash my camera?"
"Why'd you think? You were taking photos of me naked. Remember?"
Lockhart glared back at him. "I though you loved me Harry?" He rubbed Harry's leg.
"Fuck Off!" yelled Harry, "Don't ever touch me! What the hell do you think you're doing?" He spat at Lockhart again, hitting his left eye this time.
Lockhart looked infuriated. He took a deep breath in and wiped the spit away. He raised his wand and gave it a flick. Harry fell from the wall, released. He got quickly to his feet pulling up his pants, buttoning his shirt and backing towards the door.
"Don't do this to me Harry," said Lockhart seriously.
"What! You just practically raped me!" screamed Harry, his hands bunching into fists.
"What!" yelled Lockhart back. "You wanted it, that's why you came!"
"Wha...no, oh, fuck! You're sick! I only came because I didn't think I'd be meeting you here!"
"What's wrong? Don't like the idea of being a toy boy to an older man?" Lockhart came up to him and ran his fingers through Harry's hair.
"Piss off," said Harry bitterly.
"Fine," said Lockhart moodily. "But you remember, if you tell anyone, your secret's out. Even your new one with the blonde. You know personally, I'm glad you've swapped to him. Blonde over ranga for me any day. Now go! Unless you want to stay for some more…" his eyes flashed.
Shaking his head, Harry left the classroom and wandered back towards Gryffindor Tower.
The blonde, he thought, his fist bunching again. Lockhart had some nerve calling Draco that.
All of a sudden, as he turned the next corner, everything that had just happened rushed at him, flooding his mind. His throat went dry and his eyes began to prickle. He looked down at his clothes, trembling, he had to change- he no longer felt clean.
He could hear footsteps coming from the direction he'd just come- Lockhart. Harry started to run; he didn't know where his was going, just that he had to get away. Get away and get clean. He had never felt dirtier in his life.
He ran down endless flights of stairs and deserted corridors. Until he stopped, falling to his knees, out of breath. The stone floor underneath him was cool and calming on his flushed skin. He took a moment to regain his breath, looking uncertainly around. He was in the entrance hall.
The huge oak doors leading out into the grounds were open wide and a light breeze was flowing gently through them, around the room and over Harry's body. Harry got numbly to his feet and ambled slowly through them.
Outside the cool air whipped through the damp hair on his brow. The leaves in a nearby oak rustled, and an owl let out a faint hoot. Harry rubbed his eyes and squinted around. The moon was full and shimmering a bright pearly white, illuminating the sky and the grounds around him. Harry stumbled down the bank to the lake and sank to his knees at the water's edge. He cupped his hands and splashed the icy water onto his face. He felt his body relax with the water's chill touch. Silent tears slipped down his cheeks as he stared at his reflection in the rippling radiant water. His eyes looked weary but fully alert at the same time, his skin was blotchy and the moonlight was making it look paler than ever; or perhaps it really was. He began to tremble and sat back on the grass, curling his legs up to his body; it made him feel more secure.
Harry had no idea what to do. All he knew was that he wasn't going back into the castle anytime soon, he couldn't bare the thought of having to answer questions, their intentions would be good, but it would be too much. There was also the possibility of running into Lockhart. All he wanted now was to shut himself off from the world entirely.
Through tear brimmed eyes, he looked out over the lake, the sight of the rippling water calming his nerves. The sound of something hitting the water sounded and Harry was suddenly alert, his attention drawn to the far side of the lake. There, standing on the bank opposite to him, was the silhouette of a figure skipping stones across the lake's surface.
Harry's heart began to race; this was the last thing he needed. He watched warily, hoping to god that the figure hadn't seen him. It seemed that right now at least, luck was on his side. He watched as the figure stooped down and picked up another stone from the bank. With a flick of their wrist the stone skimmed across the lake's surface, skipping three times. The figure bent to collect another stone, this time as they did so, the moonlight caught their hair; Harry's heart stopped as he saw it flash white-blonde.
Draco eyed the stone in his hand, it looked good enough, he drew his arm back and swung the stone out across the lake's face. The stone hit the water with a plonk, not skipping once. Malfoy cursed under his breath, he was tired of this game. It was getting late, he had better get back to bed, perhaps now he'd be able to sleep. With his hands in his pockets, he began to stroll around the lake's perimeter heading back towards the castle.
Harry began to panic; Draco was heading straight towards him without realizing it. Luckily Malfoy wasn't looking in his direction, but as Harry thought this, his boyfriend looked up at the bank in front of him, straight at Harry. He stopped mid-step and look of concern came into his moonlit eyes.
"Harry?" he said frowning, "What are you doing out here? What's wrong?" Harry's tear streaked face was easily visible thanks to the moon. Draco jogged up the bank and knelt down in front of him. Taking Harry's hands in his own, his grey eyes, full of concern, searching Harry's green ones.
"Oh my," he whispered gently. Harry did not need to explain what had happened, Draco could feel Harry's pain and already knew. He could tell without being told. They knew each other too well.
"You poor soul," Draco breathed. He felt himself growing mad; the anger was towards himself for not being there to prevent something like this from happening. It was also towards the man who had done it. Harry, in Draco's eyes, was young, innocent and incredibly beautiful (even for a boy), a clear target for something like this. He was angrier than he had ever been in his life; he had failed to protect his lover.
Looking back into Draco's stunning eyes, Harry noticed the anger.
"Don't blame yourself," he rasped reaching out and brushing his fingertips over Malfoy's cheek. Draco took hold of his hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. "How can I not, Harry? How could I have let this happen?" He clenched his teeth. "I'm hopeless, you don't deser-"
He was cut off by Harry's finger on his lips.
"Shh," Harry whispered. "I should be able to look after myself, I'm the one to blame. I'm not listening to another word against you."
Draco sighed, and knew it would be cruel to argue against Harry at a time like this, but secretly he still blamed himself.
Draco got to his feet.
"Ah," said Harry timidly, "could we just stay here a little longer?"
"Sure, Harry, anything," Draco cursed inside his head; I'm such an idiot. Wasn't it clear he hadn't wanted leave? Yet here I am, he thought bitterly, stupidly getting to my feet and expecting him to follow. He looked at Harry who was staring at him, looking distressed.
"Draco, you're doing it again," he said sternly, "Stop blaming yourself."
"How can you tell?" Malfoy asked sitting down on the soft grass beside him.
"The look in your eye," said Harry quietly.
Malfoy smiled and put his arm around his boyfriend. He was startled to find his body was freezing to the touch. He quickly pulled off his jacket and draped it around Harry's shoulders, then put his arm around him again, pulling him close.
They sat out the night watching the rippling waves swell around the moonlit surface of the water.
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A/N: BLOODY OATH!Ok guys, yes, lockhart is back! i know, i know, very scary/weird. but really, to give up reading now would be stupid wouldnt it? after 14 chpaters? we've got more quality stuff to come, so if you thought this chpater was just a little too sick, keep with us for just one more chapter and you'll see that it will unfold quite well. On the other hand, if you loved it, GOOD STUFF! and u all know what we need now! REVIEWS REVIWS REVIEWS!
Have a bonzer week mates and we'll talk to you soon!
Blaze-Splinder
