Author's Note: This chapter includes Snogging Legilimency for Kit turned Mighty.
Soundtrack to this chapter is Growing On Me by The Darkness.
oOoOoOo
The Bodyguard
Chapter 16: Double Bed
"I KNEW YOU'D TRY SOMETHING, LADDIE!" came a familiar roar from out in the stairwell.
Harry's heart gave a leap of relief. It wasn't Fenrir Greyback out there, it was Mad-Eye Moody! But before he could say anything, there was a blue-white flash as Moody aimed a spell at Draco. It lit up the whole room like a streak of lightning and struck Draco's hastily raised shield spell with a sound like a vast, cracked bell tolling.
"Stop!" Harry shouted. He didn't remember getting off the bed but somehow he was standing there by the door. Lumos, he thought, and raised the light from his wand up high. He saw Draco's pale, grim face nearby and out in the stairwell, Moody's heavily scarred face, which was suffused with rage.
"Get out of the way, Harry," roared Moody. He was wearing a white nightshirt and his feet, the real one and the wooden one, were bare. His wand was raised and the tip glowed green.
"Don't shoot! Stop it, both of you!" yelled Harry, positioning himself between the two of them. "Draco was protecting me, Moody. We heard you coming up the stairs and we thought you were Fenrir."
Moody did not lower his wand. "Fenrir's not here. No Death Eater can get in. Apart from THAT ONE!" he snarled, pointing at Draco with a thick finger.
"Draco's my bodyguard. He was only doing his job. Sorry, Moody, we heard growling and we didn't know it was you," said Harry desperately.
"Harry's right. Sorry," said Draco in his most polite voice. He lowered his wand.
Moody snorted. "I don't growl," he growled. Then his real eye blinked, and his scarred face scrunched up a little in realisation. Very slowly, he lowered his wand.
"You did. All the way up the stairs. You should have heard yourself," said Harry, who was leaning on the doorframe with relief that Fenrir was not there, and Moody was backing down.
"I was having a little trouble with the stairs, that's all!" muttered Moody. He gave a little totter of what appeared to be exhaustion.
Harry looked at him with concern. "Come in and sit down, Moody," he said. "It must have been a terrible shock."
"I'm never shocked," boasted Moody. "Constant vigilance!" But he seemed happy enough to limp inside, past Draco, to whom he gave an intimidating glare, which Draco did not return. The old Auror sank down onto Harry's bed with a groan of relief.
Ron was sitting up in his bed, wide-awake, glancing from person to person with his mouth open. "What happened?" he gasped.
"False alarm, Ron, go back to sleep," said Harry soothingly.
Ron nodded seriously. "False alarm. Oh good!" he said, and lay down. The moment his head touched the pillow, he began to snore again.
Moody tugged at his wooden leg and removed it with a growl of relief.
"Where are you sleeping?" Harry asked Moody.
"Molly's got me sleeping in the attic room, up seven flights of stairs," Moody grumbled, rubbing his stump of a leg.
Draco's eyes brightened with suppressed excitement. "That's a lot of stairs," he said in a sympathetic tone.
Harry glanced at him. He could tell Draco was up to something and he wasn't the only one. Moody gave Draco a hard look and went back to rubbing his stump.
"It's a shame Mrs Weasley has you sleeping all the way up there when there are bedrooms closer to the ground. Like this one, for instance. Would you prefer to sleep here instead of the attic, Professor Moody? Harry and I could swap with you and save you the trouble of climbing all those stairs," said Draco sweetly.
"Well, look at you handing out other people's beds. This bed isn't yours to offer. It belongs to Harry," said Moody, his magical blue eye spinning. He was still out of breath from climbing the stairs and his impromptu wand battle.
Harry had seen Draco sucking up to adults on numerous occasions but this was the first time he'd ever wanted to back him up. "I think it's a great idea, Moody. You're welcome to swap beds with me. I can pack my trunk and be out of here in no time and you won't even have to get up."
Moody looked as though he were considering the idea. He rubbed his stump thoughtfully and then he grunted. "Very well. But keep an eye on your Death Eater. He's up to something." Despite his serious words, he winked his real eye at Harry.
Harry grinned. "He's permanently up to something, he's a Slytherin."
Draco muttered something that may have been, "Bloody Gryffindor!" and stashed his wand inside his pyjama jacket.
Harry took a step towards the door. "We'll go and fetch your trunk, Moody."
"No need!" said Moody. He flicked his wand at the ceiling. For a few seconds, nothing seemed to have happened, then Harry saw Moody's trunk come floating down the stairs. Moody glanced at Draco as if hoping to intimidate him with this powerful piece of remote magic. Draco raised his eyebrows but said nothing. He stepped away from the door to let Moody's trunk float inside.
"Good," said Harry. "Give me just a second to get packed up." He waved his wand at his clothes on the floor and they and quite a few of the sweet wrappers that were lying on the floor with them jumped into his trunk. He closed the lid and thought, Wingardium Leviosa! and his trunk floated up to waist height. "'Night," he said casually, trying to hide how triumphant he was, and headed up the stairs, followed by Draco, who closed the door behind him.
oOoOoOo
The attic bedroom was large and irregularly shaped, with slanted walls that followed the line of the roof. Once it had been the warehouse office and it still bore evidence of its previous use. The walls were covered with faded paper signs bearing words like 'Invoices' and old Muggle movie posters. Harry could see the cloudy, night sky through a round window, like a ship's portal, on one of the walls. A plain queen-sized bed, covered with an old and worn, but clean patchwork quilt, nearly filled the room. There was a battered bedside table on one side of the bed and the foot of the bed faced an ornate, old-fashioned cast-iron fireplace. On the far wall, Harry could see a half-open door leading to a room covered in white tiles. Compared to Harry's previous room, it was a paradise.
"Excellent!" Draco was grinning from ear to ear. He flicked his wand at the fireplace and a fire blazed up, and filled the room with light and warmth. Then he threw himself on one side of the bed, putting his hands behind his head in an attitude of proud achievement. "Don't I get you the best stuff, Harry?"
Harry laughed and set down his trunk. "Yeah, good going, Draco," he said.
"This calls for a celebration. Fancy a drink?"
"I think Mrs Weasley has some Butterbeers downstairs."
"Butterbeers?" said Draco with a trace of a sneer. "I can do better than that!" He pointed his wand at the bedside table and two glasses appeared, full of smoking, fiery liquid.
"Is that Firewhiskey?" said Harry in fascination. He threw himself down on the bed, next to Draco.
"Naturally," said Draco smugly.
"I never could make Firewhiskey," Harry confessed. "I never knew anyone in Gryffindor who could. Though I don't think Hermione's ever tried."
"I can do any drink spell," Draco boasted. He jabbed his wand at the glasses. "Mulled mead." The liquid went golden and stopped smoking. "Gillywater." The liquid went pink. "Redcurrent rum." The liquid darkened to crimson. "Pansy even made me learn those awful girly drinks that have fruit and cream and those little umbrellas at the top." Draco made a face and didn't bother to wave his wand. "But my favourite is Firewhiskey." He flicked his wand at the glasses and the liquid started churning and smoking again.
Harry burst out laughing in amazement. "That's incredible!"
Draco beamed at Harry's compliment and his cheeks went pink. Harry was strongly reminded of the embarrassed but extremely pleased way Hermione responded to compliments. But Draco seemed to be making an effort to keep his voice casual, despite his rosy cheeks. "ALL the best parties are in Slytherin."
Harry laughed again and picked up the glasses. They were burning hot. He quickly handed one to Draco and he moved his hand further up his own glass to stop it burning his fingers.
Draco leaned over and clinked their glasses. "Cheers Harry! To being friends at last!" he said. His cheeks were still pink.
Harry raised his glass to take a sip and stopped. He remembered Moody's warning. Was Draco really up to something, and if so, what? Was it safe to drink around him? A voice very like Hermione's whispered in his ear, 'You shouldn't be drinking Firewhiskey around a Death Eater you've been enemies with for seven years and friends with for only one day.' But a voice very like Ron's whispered in his other ear, 'Drink up, Harry! Free Firewhiskey and no one to catch you drinking it! Draco is the coolest friend ever!' The Firewhiskey boiled in Harry's glass. He could feel the heat coming off it and the smoke tickled his nose. He sneezed and nearly spilled it.
Draco paused with his glass halfway to his lips. "You're supposed to drink it, not sniff it. What's the matter, Harry? Haven't you ever had Firewhiskey before?"
Harry never had, but he would have danced naked wearing Dobby's tea-cosy before he admitted it to Draco. "Umm," he said, his eyes flicking to the left.
Draco saw and his grey eyes flashed challengingly. "Maybe I should give you a drink you can handle. A Gillywater, perhaps?" He raised his wand.
At the mention of the wizarding world's girly drink, Harry scowled. "I can handle Firewhiskey," he said. He took a large swig and tried to look cool, but it was all he could do not to spit it out. It burned like a mouthful of Skele-Grow. He barely managed to swallow, and gasped for breath, trying to cool his tongue. He could feel the Firewhiskey burning its way down into his stomach and he gagged. "Delicious," he lied, with streaming eyes.
"It is." Draco took a large swig. He did not gasp but there was a stoic expression his face as he swallowed.
Harry's stomach churned. He could feel the Firewhiskey burning away down there and wondered where he could get his stomach pumped at short notice before it burned a hole right through him. But after a few moments, the heat in his stomach became comforting and exciting. Tendrils of warmth and relaxation spread down through his limbs. He could see Draco watching him.
"Good, isn't it?" Draco said. He flicked his wand and their glasses filled themselves back up to the brim.
"You can do the Refilling Charm too. Amazing! I've managed that once, and that was with luck potion," Harry heard himself say. Draco beamed. "Let me guess, you think it's easy," said Harry, and Draco grinned even more and looked like Harry had just made his night.
"Father and Mother made me practice drinks spells endlessly. They wanted me to be the perfect host and make a splash in magical society," Draco said, and winked at Harry.
Normally, Harry would have frowned at the mention of Draco's father, but the Firewhiskey in his stomach had other ideas and he smiled instead. He took another swig. The second mouthful of Firewhiskey burned, but not as much as the first and the warmth and relaxation spread throughout Harry's body. "Lovely," he said and slid his way up the bed until he was leaning against the backboard, his legs stretched out in front of him. Draco lay beside him. They both watched the flickering, red light of the fire at the foot of the bed and drank.
But Hermione's whisper was getting louder in Harry's mind and he voiced his concern aloud. "I shouldn't drink too much."
"I know some charms to stop hangovers," said Draco. "Let go, Harry. Let your hair down for once in your life. You deserve it, you nearly died last night." He clinked glasses with Harry. "To life!" he toasted, and they both took another swig.
"I'm only still here, thanks to you," said Harry. He was surprised to hear his voice slurring slightly. "You saved my life, Draco!"
"Was a pleasure to save you," replied Draco, a little thickly.
Harry burped and was overcome with laughter when a jet of flame shot out of his mouth, like a dragon.
Draco laughed too. "Better out than in," he snickered, and he refilled their glasses with a flick of his wand.
oOoOoOo
Harry had never been drunk before. He wasn't sure how much he'd had to drink because he'd lost track of the number of times Draco had refilled his glass. Hermione's warning whisper had faded to nothing and all Harry knew was how happy he was to be lying on the bed with Draco in the red firelight. He was relaxed and languid, every single thing seemed hysterically funny and he was convinced that Draco was the best friend he'd ever had.
"Don't want you to think I really HATED you all these years, Draco. You made my life pretty interesting," said Harry thickly and chuckled. He tried to clink glasses with Draco, missed Draco's glass entirely, steered his glass shakily to his lips and took another delicious, warming swig. He decided he loved Firewhiskey.
"I didn't hate you either," Draco smirked. "Well, MOST of the time I didn't hate you. It's funny to think I'm sort of your slave or servant now, because of the Vow."
"You're my FRIEND, Draco," said Harry thickly. "I ORDER you to be my friend! We don't need ... silly Vow."
Draco smiled. He refilled Harry's glass and Harry stared curiously.
"What's your wand made of?" he asked.
"Hawthorn and unicorn tail hair." Draco didn't seem very drunk at all, but somehow Harry couldn't make himself care. He remembered his Herbology lessons.
"Hawthorn? But that's the tree of love!"
Draco looked defensive. "Yes, hawthorn is the tree of love, marriage and beauty," he said. "Also of protection and dispelling negative energy. I'll have you know it's one of the most powerful wand wood trees. But it's also considered very unlucky because of the thorns."
"So your wand means you're loving, prickly, beautiful, protective, and a destroyer of evil things? And you thought you could be a Death Eater, with a wand like that?"
"That must be where the unlucky part comes in," said Draco. "So I'm beautiful, am I?"
Harry felt himself go crimson. "Uh, that's just your wand."
But Draco didn't look convinced. "One sniff of the barmaid's apron and the truth comes out," he smirked.
"I'm not drunk, Draco!" Harry insisted, slurring his words. He burped flame again and giggled uncontrollably.
Draco refilled Harry's glass. "Of course, you're not drunk. You're just happy. So what's YOUR wand made out of, Harry?"
Harry looked at his wand and waggled it until sparks flew out. "It's holly and phoenix feather," he said. But the Firewhiskey urged him to say more. "This is a really special wand, Draco. The phoenix that gave the feather is called Fawkes and used to belong to Albus Dumbledore. Fawkes also gave the feather that is at the core of Voldemort's wand. Our wands are brothers and they can't fight each other. When we try, my wand forces his wand to regurgitate all the spells it has performed in reverse." A sober part of Harry's head screamed at the other parts in alarm and he glanced in horror at Draco. "I shouldn't have said that!"
Draco was looking very serious and grown up indeed and Harry was more convinced than ever that he was still mostly sober. "You're right you shouldn't have told me that, Harry. Don't tell me anything unless I really need to know. It's not safe."
Harry looked at Draco and felt a drunken flood of affection. He draped an arm around his shoulder. "You're always taking care of me!" he said thickly and gave Draco a squeeze, but he released him quickly when he saw those intense grey eyes up close.
"You need someone to take care of you, Harry," said Draco. He handed his glass to Harry, who put it on the bedside table, and he slid down the bed to Harry's feet. He crossed his long, bare legs, picked up Harry's right foot and started to massage it.
Harry watched in fascination. Draco's hands were warm and knew exactly how to touch him. The Slytherin's head was bowed, and his white-blond hair hung down over his face. His long, pale hands worked away at Harry's toes and then slid down to his instep. It felt so good.
"I've never had a massage from a boy before. Though you're really pretty for a boy," Harry heard himself saying, then froze when he realised what he had said. He expected Draco to pounce on this statement and taunt him half to death, but Draco only glanced up through his long curtains of hair and smiled, before looking down again. His hands were working their way up the back of Harry's calf muscle and he lifted Harry's pyjama pants leg up.
Harry gave a start and tried to stop him, but the Firewhiskey had slowed his reflexes. Harry's shameful, knobbly knee was revealed in all its glory and Draco stopped, stared and laughed. "What do you call this then, Harry?" he asked, looking up with a cheeky grin.
"My knee," said Harry sourly, wondering at Draco's unerring ability to find a person's vulnerabilities and prod at them.
"Call this a knee? It looks like a cauliflower," Draco smirked. Harry tried to pull his leg back, but Draco spread his warm hands over Harry's knee and massaged gently.
It felt so good, Harry lost the urge to pull away. He lay back against the pillow, drank some more Firewhiskey and hoped that he wasn't pouting.
"So have many people have seen your knobbly knees before, or am I in exalted company, Chosen One?" Draco teased gently, his grey eyes twinkling through his curtains of white-blond hair.
Even drunk, Harry could tell Draco wasn't just talking about knees. He blushed. "That's private, Draco, and don't call me Chosen One. It makes me sound like the hero in some silly Muggle kung fu movie," Harry said, remembering one movie in particular that Dudley played over and over.
"I didn't do Muggle Studies, and I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," said Draco. He pulled down Harry's pyjama pants leg, refilled Harry's glass with a flick of his wand, and started massaging Harry's other foot.
"It's not important," murmured Harry thickly. He lay back down again with his hot glass resting on his chest and closed his eyes, luxuriating in the touch of Draco's hands. Harry was looking at the darkness behind his eyelids when he heard Draco chuckle.
"I'm still waiting for an answer, Harry. How many people have seen your knobbly knees?" Draco chuckled wickedly and added: "And the rest of your body?"
Harry didn't bother to open his eyes in case Draco read the truth there. "Lots!" he lied valiantly.
"Tell me about them."
"I'd rather hear about your sex life first!"
If Harry had wanted to embarrass Draco, he was disappointed. The Slytherin's grin was obvious from the tone of his voice.
"You want to hear about MY sex life, Harry? How long have you got?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Draco. You've had, like, ONE date in your whole life," Harry pointed out, opening his eyes.
Draco simply burst out laughing. "Where did you get that idea?"
"You were at the Yule Ball with Pansy Parkinson. That's the only time I've ever seen you out with someone," said Harry defensively. He took a sip of Firewhiskey.
"Well, look who's been stalking me," Draco laughed. "I bet you think I flaunt all my partners in front of you. I don't. I've done plenty that you haven't heard of."
"Rubbish!" Harry bellowed with a smile. Draco's fingers were stroking tenderly along his instep.
"That's right, I'm talking to the boy who spent his whole life in detention or in the library with Hermione Granger," Draco said and Harry frowned. "Me? I had my nights free to par-TAY!" The Slytherin punched a fist skywards and whooped.
"All right then, who have you slept with?" asked Harry, unable to control his curiosity, though he also wondered how much longer he'd be able to resist wiping that smug look off Draco's face.
Draco stared at Harry for moment. "Typically direct and rude of you, Harry. But I'll tell you on one condition."
"What condition?"
Draco sat up straighter, with a wicked grin. "On the condition you tell me about YOUR sex life next. If there's anything to tell," he added mockingly.
"I have so had a sex life," said Harry, thinking of all the snogging he had done with Cho and Ginny. "All right, I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours!"
"It's a deal," Draco drawled. He gave Harry a challenging look. "But snoggings don't count. It's got to be shaggings." Harry had never seen Draco looking so pleased with himself. "So, how many have I shagged?" Draco started counting on his fingers in a way that made Harry want to hit him, "First of all - Pansy Parkinson," he said.
"That Slytherin girl that looks like a pug?" Harry sneered.
Draco sat up furiously and glared. "And you call ME a bastard, Harry. You should hear yourself sometimes."
"I bet you did it doggy style."
"You're going to get a pillow in your face in a minute, POTTER!"
"Don't, you might spill my drink," said Harry thickly.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Pansy's not a pug, say it Potter," he sighed.
"Okay, okay," said Harry, feeling Draco massaging up his calf muscle and almost purring.
"Pansy's a nice girl. Too nice for me. Bwahahaha!" Draco gave a long, theatrical, evil laugh.
"Knock it off, Draco. All right then - Pansy Parkinson. Anyone else?"
"Millicent Bulstrode."
"Millicent Bulstrode?" cried Harry in horror, instinctively crossing his legs. He mimed vomiting with suitable gagging noises.
Draco laughed, but didn't come to Millicent's defence. "Well, yes ... she must have slipped me a love potion. I only spent one night with her and when I woke up in the morning I ran for it. I wouldn't want to go through that again. Her cat scratched me on ... on a sensitive place-" He trailed off as Harry howled with laughter and managed to spill part of his Firewhiskey over his chest. Yelping, Harry sat up and wiped his chest with his hands, licking his fingers so that he didn't waste any.
Draco refilled Harry's glass and waited until he was lying down again. "Roll over on your stomach, Harry. I'll do your back," he said. Harry put his glass on the bedside table and obeyed. He felt Draco's warm hands descend upon his naked shoulders.
"Mmmm! So who else, then?" Harry asked. Draco's hands were working their way down his back.
"Oh, loads," Harry heard Draco saying in a lazy, superior manner. "Maisy Prewett. Tina Nott, Druella Rosier, and Luna Lestrange-"
"I haven't heard of those girls," said Harry suspiciously, his voice somewhat muffled by his pillow.
"They've all left school."
"How convenient. So how did you meet them if they actually exist and they're no longer at school?"
"Their parents got in touch with mine and arranged for us to ... meet," said Draco with an audible smirk. "They were all pure-blood girls looking for marriage." Harry heard Draco make vomiting sounds and laughed. "My parents wanted me to get to know them. So I did! Not quite the way my Mother had in mind!"
"I don't believe you, Draco," said Harry.
"If you don't, then look into my eyes," said Draco.
Harry turned his head. "What? Do you mean Legilimency? Are you sure you trust me after what happened last time?"
There was a long pause. "I don't have a choice about trusting you, Harry. You may as well earn my trust back by doing something that isn't very important. Like Snogging Legilimency," Draco said slowly. He lifted his hands off Harry's back and Harry sat up.
"Snogging Legilimency?" Harry was incredulous.
Draco looked both apprehensive and amused. "I just made it up," he said. "Go on, Harry. Do it."
Taking a deep breath, Harry held his wand, looked Draco in the eye and said, "Legilimens!" The room disappeared.
Pansy Parkinson's school shirt was unbuttoned and she was a passionate clinch with Draco at the top of the Astronomy Tower ... Millicent Bulstrode's cat, a black, slinking, malevolent streak of evil, swiped at Draco's left nipple with razor sharp claws...
"Ow!" yelled Harry in sympathy.
Behind the Millicent Bulstrode memory came four memories in quick succession. Harry did not recognise any of the girls but Draco was definitely snogging them. Then, much deeper inside Draco's mind, Harry saw something else - something very strange. A tapestried bedroom, containing a vast four-poster bed, with its green drapes drawn. Bizarrely, the whole scene was swathed in a heavy mist and there was such a feeling of wild desire and desperate longing associated with the memory that Harry burned with curiosity and wanted to see more. But his resolve was stronger than last time. He pushed the memory away and left Draco's mind.
"That cat was EVIL," Harry said. He did not mention the misty bedroom.
Draco nodded and looked relieved it was over.
But Draco's trial was not over. Thinking back over the memories he had just seen, Harry noticed there was a common thread. "You gave all those girls you snogged Firewhiskey and a back massage, just like you've been giving to me," said Harry, looking at Draco with suspicion.
Draco muttered something inarticulate and his cheeks turned pink.
Then Harry laughed. "But I'm a boy! What do I have to be worried about?" he said, and wondered why Draco clapped a hand to his mouth. "So that's six girls you've shagged. Who else?"
Draco lowered his hand, and gazed slyly at Harry, watching for his reaction. "Blaise Zabini," he said at last.
"BLAISE ZABINI?" Harry was flabbergasted. "You mean that Slytherin in our year?"
"Who else?"
"But he's ... he's a BOY!" Harry was shocked. He grabbed his Firewhiskey and scooted to the opposite end of the bed, away from Draco.
"Oh, well spotted," said Draco dryly, sounding very like Hermione.
"You have sex with boys?" said Harry incredulously.
"No, we find a private room and practise Quidditch," Draco sneered. "Of COURSE, I have sex with boys!"
"But that's-" Harry spluttered.
Draco rolled his eyes impatiently. "I forgot, you hang around with Ron Weasley. Apart from Hermione, he's had about as much experience as a twelve year old. I bet he still thinks that sex is disgusting."
"Don't say that about Ron," said Harry warningly, though secretly he remembered Ron's own sister saying exactly the same thing.
"Ron's your best friend. I bet YOU still think sex is disgusting, Harry. Especially between men," Draco said sharply.
"Well, I think that-" Harry began with a look of disgust.
"DON'T SAY IT!" shouted Draco and his voice was suddenly as cold and as biting as ice. Harry fell silent as Draco's grey eyes bored into his like iron daggers. Harry felt the challenge and met it with his own glare.
"Don't tell me that the Golden Boy, the Chosen One, Mr. Perfect Harry Potter, the boy who told me this morning how I should think and how I should behave, is really a filthy bloody homophobe," said Draco in a soft, silky, dangerous voice.
Harry wrung his hands in the blankets and pretended that they were Draco's neck. "I'm NOT a homophobe, Draco. It's just that ... I was raised in the Muggle world. It's different there."
Draco's gaze did not drop. "How is it different?"
Feeling his cheeks burn, Harry said, "Being called gay is ... an insult. I can't imagine any boy in the Muggle school I went to coming out and admitting they slept with boys like you just did. Not unless they didn't mind getting beaten up." Harry frowned as he remembered, "When I was back at home living with my Muggle family, I used to have nightmares about Cedric Diggory's murder, and talk about him in my sleep. My cousin heard me talking and asked me if Cedric was my boyfriend. That was the worst thing he could have said." Harry's fists clenched involuntarily in fury.
Draco didn't reply right away; he watched Harry, with calculating eyes. "So what you're saying is that you ARE homophobic," he said delicately.
Harry stared into Draco's eyes, expecting a challenge and ready to fight back. But to his surprise, Draco's gaze was gentle, almost sympathetic and Harry caught his breath - he had always tried to be the best person he could be and a painful truth struck him. "Yes, Draco, I suppose I am," he admitted. He wondered at how the tables had turned since that morning. He had never imagined Draco Malfoy, of all people, would lecture him about morality! Let alone have something over Harry that he could actually lecture him about!
The thought made Harry laugh. "Okay, Draco, I concede the moral high ground to you on this occasion. You've been good to Hermione and Ron today, so it's only fair that I stop being homophobic."
Draco reached out his right hand. "Agreed, Harry. Shake on it?"
They shook hands. Draco sat down beside Harry who stared curiously at him.
"Are you gay?" asked Harry softly.
Draco gave a casual shrug. "Who knows? I'm young. Father says I should experiment and find out for myself."
With a chuckle of amazement, Harry said, "I can't see most Muggle fathers saying something like that."
"The evil, Muggle-hating, pure-blood magic world does have some advantages then," Draco said, then winked.
Harry shook his head in amazement and tried to get back to their previous conversation. "So, Blaise Zabini. Who else?" he asked.
"I had one of the Durmstrang students too. I forget his name. It had lots of Os and Es with curly things above them." Draco grinned wickedly and lay on his side, facing Harry. "He was older. Showed me a thing or two."
"I bet he did! Is that everyone?"
Draco made a show of thinking it over and counting on his fingers. Harry rolled his eyes but he was more entertained now than infuriated.
"That's everyone," said Draco.
Harry lay back on his bed, an arm's length from Draco. "Wow, I'm impressed," he said, and he was serious. He stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. He could sense Draco smiling at him.
The mood was quieter now. They lay side by side, in a companionable silence. Harry took another sip of Firewhiskey. He was thinking about life - and Draco. He felt a strange, tingling sensation all over that had been growing inside him all day - or had it always been there? - and he was trying to analyse it. How did he feel about his newest friend? He could feel grey eyes watching him and they made him feel flustered.
"Harry. I'm waiting," said Draco, in a soft, silky voice that made Harry's stomach turn over. He rolled closer to Harry.
Harry's body tingled. "W-whatever for, Draco?" he heard himself stutter.
"It's your turn, Harry," said Draco, his voice a purr.
"My t-turn for what?" Harry's first thought was that Draco meant it was his turn to shag him. He couldn't help but tense up all over.
Draco gave a long-suffering sigh and sat up gracefully. "Your turn to tell me about your sex life, Harry," he drawled lazily, but his eyes were bright and mischievous. "What did you think I was asking?"
Harry flushed. "Oh, that," he said. He wasn't sure if he was disappointed.
"So let's hear about it then - the sizzling sex life of the famous Harry Potter," said Draco, both enthusiastic and snide. He crossed his legs and rested his chin on his hands and his elbows on his knees, staring at Harry with the attitude of an eager listener. "I saw all those girls chasing you around Hogwarts in Sixth Year you lucky bastard! I bet you shagged every single one of them!"
Harry was taken aback. "No, I didn't," the Firewhiskey in him said, and he instantly wished that he'd kept his mouth shut. He also wished he hadn't drunk so much and decided not to have any more that night. He put his glass down on the bedside table and lay down again.
Draco's eyes opened wide. "You're having me on! They were begging for it," he said incredulously.
Harry's pride was vaguely relieved that Draco's response wasn't scorn but outright amazement. "They were silly, giggly girls and I didn't like any of them," he said.
Draco still looked stunned, "You don't have to like someone to shag them."
"I do," said Harry firmly.
Draco shook his head in astonishment and frustration, "Fame is completely wasted on you, Harry. Any other boy would shagging away like-"
Harry sat up quickly. "A big shaggy thing, I know. Look, Draco, I hated the way those girls kept following me around. Everywhere I went, there were girls giggling or trying to force themselves on me," said Harry.
"Poor Potter," said Draco, without a shred of sympathy in his voice.
Harry frowned. Why didn't he realise how annoying, how persistent, how UNATTRACTIVE those girls chasing him had been? "They kept trying to slip me love potions hidden in food," said Harry angrily. "Ron took one by mistake. I had to take him to Slughorn." A bad memory sprang to mind and Harry frowned, "That was the time when Ron drank that poisoned mead you'd put aside for Dumbledore." He glared furiously at Draco.
Draco looked alarmed, "Um, yeah, sorry about that." He changed the subject immediately. "But you still didn't get laid, even with all those girls and their love potions." A strange, hopeful look came over his face, "What's the matter, Harry? Don't you LIKE girls?"
Harry's face turned brick red with fury, "I do so like girls, Draco. Don't you dare suggest otherwise or I'll-"
"Homophobe," said Draco, his eyes suddenly cold and angry, and Harry fell silent.
After a pause, Harry said, "Sorry, I didn't mean that."
Draco nodded and did not say anything more about it. "So," he went on. "You didn't sleep with any of your groupies. But you have had girlfriends, Harry. So what sort of things did you get up to?" A greedy leer came over his face.
"Snogging," said Harry thickly, not liking this conversation at all.
"Sure," said Draco. "And-" he let his voice trail off.
Harry folded his arms and said nothing.
Draco's expression changed from confusion, to amazement, to triumph. "You're a VIRGIN?" he gasped.
Harry wished fervently that they'd never started this conversation. He frowned, and Draco let out a whoop that made Harry want to smash his face in. "You ARE a virgin!" shouted Draco, laughing fit to burst. "What went wrong? Didn't you fancy Ginny Weasley?"
"Of course I did! But we had no privacy and I always was on detention and we didn't get as far as-" Harry's voice trailed off and he scowled as he saw Draco's amusement.
"You were dating Cho Chang too. What happened there?" said Draco, adding with a wicked grin, "Or what DIDN'T happen?"
"None of your business, Draco," said Harry snapped. "I don't like talking about this. It's not respectful to the girls."
"Harry Potter: the virgin gentleman!"
"Shut UP, Draco!" Harry clenched his hands into fists on the blanket and he imagined they were clenched around Draco's throat.
Draco rolled around on the bed, hugging his pillow and laughing like a hyena.
"My sex life is none of your business, MALFOY," Harry snarled, finally losing his temper.
If Draco noted the use of his last name, he didn't give any indication. He thrashed on the bed hysterical with laughter. "What do you mean, 'None of MY business?' You're not DOING any business, Potter!"
"Malfoy, shut up!"
"Harry Potter's never been laid!" Draco shouted in a sing-song voice.
"Malfoy, I'm warning you!" Harry's drunken happiness had changed to drunken fury.
But Draco wasn't the least bit intimidated. With irrepressible cheek, he stood up on the bed and started a sing-song chant, complete with a matching dance. "The Chosen One's a VIRGIN! The Chosen One's a VIRGIN! The Chosen One's a VIRGIN!"
"Right, Malfoy, that does it!" roared Harry. He wrestled Draco down onto the bed, pinning down him by his shoulders. Draco laughed hysterically and wrestled back, managing to roll both of them over, so that Harry was pinned to the bed instead, but Harry, with a burst of fury, rolled them back. Before long, both were panting wildly, with mussed hair and clothes and Harry was enjoying himself more than he wanted to admit, especially when he pushed Draco down on his back, lay his whole body down on top of him and Draco stopped fighting back.
Draco lay there, looking up into Harry's eyes, and his hot breath, scented with Firewhiskey, tickled Harry's face. It was ... pleasant. Their mouths were almost touching, and Harry could feel Draco's arousal against his thigh. He wants to snog me, Harry thought. But Draco did not make a move and after a long moment, Harry recollected that Draco was a boy. He didn't want to be snogged by a boy. Did he? Harry rolled off Draco, moved to his own side of the bed and hugged his legs protectively to his chest, trying to ignore the creature in his chest, which was growling in disappointment.
If Draco were disappointed, he gave no indication. He moved gracefully to his side of the bed. His arousal, if anything, was more obvious than ever.
Harry couldn't take his eyes off it and it scared him. "You like me, Draco," he found himself saying stupidly.
"I hate you, Potter. I've hated you since the first day of school when you didn't want to be my friend," said Draco, but he was smiling, and his voice was amused and somewhat husky. Harry shivered at the sound of it.
"I mean, you really like me. I felt your ... just then." Harry babbled, pointing at Draco's crotch, and then he snatched his hand back and found himself blushing.
Draco looked down at his crotch and did an amusing faked double take of surprise at his own tented boxer shorts. "Well, you got me there, Potter. I DO like you after all," he chortled. Then he became serious. Mesmerising grey eyes met Harry's. In a lazy, sensual drawl that made Harry tremble, Draco said, "I think you'll find that the word isn't 'like', Potter. It's desire. As in, 'I desire you.'"
Harry hugged his legs tighter to his chest.
Seeing this, Draco stopped and looked frustrated. "Harry, it's not that big a deal. Boys fool around with their mates all the time."
"I don't want to ... I'm not like that!" said Harry, trying to cover himself. He stupidly found himself hating Draco for being nearly sober and being capable of putting articulate sentences together but he hated himself worse for having drunk so much.
"It'll be fun, I promise," said Draco softly. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. "Not like that, you say? I'd say that's denial talking. Why don't you straighten those legs out, Harry? I get the impression you're trying to hide something."
"No!" Harry growled, blushing furiously and hugging even tighter. The alcohol was making his brain fuzzy.
Mesmerising grey eyes became cold. "You promised you stop being homophobic."
Harry stared at Draco, swallowed and slowly straightened his legs, until he was lying flat on the bed with his head on a pillow. He glared, as if daring him to make a sneering remark about the friskiness of a certain portion of his anatomy.
But Draco didn't seem capable of a sneering remark at that moment. He seemed lost for words. Silently, he drank Harry in with eyes, which to Harry's shock, were wet. Finally he mastered himself enough to speak.
"Harry Potter, you are GORGEOUS," Draco breathed.
Harry gave him a tiny smile, and it was enough to make the Slytherin reach out a hand and close the final distance. Harry felt his hand stroke, ever so lightly, over his cheek, down the side of his neck and over his chest.
Though Harry had gone through the motions of snogging before, it had always felt a bit mechanical. He'd heard it was meant to feel good, but had always scoffed at the notion of uncontrollable desire. Snogging was wet. That was about all you could say about it. Snogging Ginny was nice; she was a good friend and he'd felt a spark, he had to admit, though they'd spent so little time alone together. But this was different. Draco's touch was as light as a feather yet it had Harry burning and tingling all over. Goose bumps rose all over his body and he gasped. Draco held himself back, watching Harry's reaction hungrily. His hand trailed down Harry's chest, down to his stomach, then teasingly back up again, lighter and lighter. Harry arched his body and pressed into Draco's touch.
It was as if Draco had been waiting for that signal. He lay gracefully down next to Harry but didn't kiss him. Harry found himself wishing desperately that he would.
"You like that," Draco stated. His hand was trailing over Harry's cheek and neck.
"Y-yes," Harry's voice shook.
"You want me," Draco eyes burned and Harry trembled.
"I-" quavered Harry. The creature in his chest was roaring so loud he could barely speak.
"Scared, Potter?" said Draco, in a silky, challenging voice, looking into Harry's eyes and cupping Harry's cheek with his hand. His face was close and his breath was warm.
Harry remembered their duel, so many years ago and smiled. If Draco didn't dare to kiss him, it was time for Harry to take matters into his own hands. "You WISH," he said. Harry pulled Draco down and kissed him passionately on the mouth.
oOoOoOo
Author's Notes: I LOVE reviews. Please, please review!
I've thought of a slogan for Firewhiskey. Firewhiskey - helping the oblivious get laid... I had so much fun writing Oblivious Harry but it only took an hour alone with Draco and Oblivious Harry has disappeared forever. (Sob!) Next chapter will be little more than shagging. (Yay!) I'm so glad I've finally gotten to the shagging - it only took about 44,000 words. (Facepalm!) Next time I'd better write porn without plot. Draco and Harry meet and shag with no explanation in 1000 words...it would certainly be quicker to write. ;-)
The video Dudley played over and over was Kung Pow. See it and you will never view the words 'Chosen One', in the same light again. :-)
Replies to Reviews:
Bishou: Thanks! Sexual tension was what I was aiming for. I hope it was stronger in this chapter. mimifoxlove: Thanks! Poor Harry, it's his family that made him hate himself so much. Lisa: Thanks! Actually, having someone at their door like that turned out well, after a bit of manipulation from Draco. There will definitely be a Virginity Trap, if Ron's got any say in the matter! GreenEyedCatDragon: Thanks! Glad I got you so worked up about it! ;-) Culf: I find Legilimency to be absolutely terrifying and it certainly adds to the scariness of characters who have it, such as Snape. Have you noticed that whenever Harry thinks horrible things about Snape, in the books during Potions class, Snape does bad things to Harry as if he's read his mind and is taking revenge? In GoF, Harry stares at Snape and pictures performing the Cruciatus curse on him, and the next thing he knows, Snape is announcing he'll be testing poison on Harry. I wonder how Snape would have handled it if he'd seen Harry having a sexual fantasy about him? ;-) The Jason Isaacs interview is at the-leaky-cauldron dot org and it's called "Jason Isaacs Talks Order of the Phoenix on ITV..." On the same site, I also recommend the slash-friendly and hysterically funny "Michael Gambon "Top Gear" Interview..." where the Dumbledore actor jokes that he used to be gay but it made his eyes water... ;-) Black Padfoot: Thanks! Just writing the next chapter now. emeraud.silver: Heh, you don't like my Harry but you still want to read another chapter? I'm confused now. (Harry will improve after he's had a good, hard-!) miME-chan: THanks! Oh, you've GOT TO read the books. They're amazing. ;-) Spikeddraco666: Thanks! Writing more now. Kit turned Mighty: Thank you for your lovely review! Harry/Draco-ness will only increase from now on. Judi: Thank you very much! More on the way. ;-) T.Felton: Thank you! I'd better write quicker! MNP: Thanks! Sexy is good. ;-) Queen Vampiress: Thanks! Draco was definitely laying it on thick. Faking injury is one of his skills! Much more playing around in bed to follow. Ron is going to get a surprise... Potter's Wifey: Thanks! I hope all your questions were answered in this chapter. NinjaoftheDarkness: Thanks! More fluffiness to follow... The Earth Mystic: Wow! That's quite an image of Fenrir! Heh, Draco doesn't have to worry about waking Ron now. They can be as noisy as they like. ;-) niccoyne12: Thanks! I think your question is answered as well. Yellowwolf: Thanks! Would you waste time if you were Draco? ;-) Shame Ness2: I'll be good and update. Thanks for your review. ProperT: Heh, good, hard...I-bet-you-can-guess! ;-) Good guess about who's at the door. MayuBlack: Poor oblivious Harry! Doesn't even know about tops and bottoms. Draco will have to educate him! Can you guess what Draco saw in Hermione's head that made him so happy? wizli: Good call about Dobby. I've always wondered what Draco did to Dobby that made him call Draco a bad, Dark wizard. Dobby always gets cut off in the books when he tries to say why. I adore Dobby and he'll be showing up later. You're the only one who noticed Draco wrote to someone. Lots of good guesses in your review. ;-) Crowley Black: Poor Harry got a MAJOR clue! A: Where does it say it's illegal to reply to reviewers? There's nothing in the guidelines. fragonknight01: Greyback's foul, I agree. SuperSquash: Didn't leave it there this time! ;-) HecateDeMort: Thanks again.