The Bodyguard
Chapter 28: Magic Word
The shapeless, black creature struck the window again. Was it a Dementor? Panting with horror, his heart hammering in his ears, Harry raised his wand to summon his Patronus, and tried to focus on a single, happy memory. But his mind was a miserable abyss, full of thoughts of Draco.
Again, the creature slammed against the window, and the glass shivered. No, Harry realised, it couldn't be a Dementor. It was too small and no cold emanated from it. When the creature finally settled on the windowsill with a scraping of claws, Harry got his first proper look.
He saw a long, black beak, glittering eyes so dark they looked black, and glossy, black feathers. The raven pecked at the window, cawed menacingly, and raising its shaggy throat hackles. Harry shuddered. He remembered Professor Trelawney's lessons. Ravens were supposed to be birds of ill-omen and death. They were residents of execution sites and avatars of damned souls...
...there was a small slip of grey paper tied to the bird's right leg.
Feeling ridiculous, Harry tried to shake off his dread. The raven is a messenger, not some evil omen, he told himself sternly. Though his instincts screamed at him, he opened the window and the raven hopped inside, irritably raising a leg so Harry could untie the letter. When the letter came loose, the raven aimed a peck at his hand, hopped back onto the windowsill, spread its ragged, black wings and flew away. Harry closed the window with rather more speed than was necessary.
The letter had been tightly folded. Harry flattened it out, still fighting with his feelings of dread, and read the spiky handwriting:
Potter,
Your insufferable arrogance has led you to believe you can use Draco Malfoy to manipulate me. But I will NOT send you my Patronus, even if you make Draco ask.
Your teaching skills leave a lot to be desired. Tell Draco the wand motions are swish, flick, when a reply to a Patronus message is required. It is your responsibility to make sure he performs his next Patronus message correctly. I will not tolerate sloppiness.
The four of you shall meet me tonight, at 7pm. I shall be sitting in my favourite chair. Draco knows where that is. Bring the Unbreakable Vow, if you have a copy, and Nagini's body.
Do not be late.
No reply to this message is required. You WILL be there tonight. It is of the utmost importance that we meet and conduct our business before midnight. The fate of the entire world depends on this meeting.
Severus Snape
Harry crumpled the letter and stuffed it into his pocket. Not only had the greasy git refused to display his Patronus - the one thing that would prove his true loyalties - but to add insult to injury, he'd tried to teach again.
Beyond a dull flash of anger, Harry couldn't rouse himself out of his current, bleak state enough to care what Snape was planning. Thoughts of Draco were playing over and over in his mind, like moving images in the Daily Prophet. He relived every moment he had spent with the Slytherin. The touches and the looks of the last few, precious, misleading days. Then back to their time at Hogwarts together. The glares, the fighting, the endless verbal digs. How could he possibly have thought Draco had fallen in love with him?
Cursing his own stupidity, Harry lay down on the bed. The pillow smelled just like Draco, and Harry wrapped his arms around it and buried his face in its soft depths. Tears squeezed out of his eyes.
So this was what it was like to have a broken heart? It was agonising. Every thought, every breath belonged to Draco, but he couldn't have him. His instinct was to find a Healer, but what Healer could fix a broken heart? He cursed his ability to love so quickly. Why hadn't Dumbledore or Sirius WARNED him love would be like this?
But then he remembered - Dumbledore and Sirius had loved easily, and unwisely too. Dumbledore had put off telling him about the prophecy for years, to spare him pain. Sirius had invited Harry to move into his house, minutes after Harry had tried to strangle him.
Harry wondered how his godfather had coped with loving so easily. But then it occurred to him that Sirius HADN'T coped. He remembered how his godfather had stunk of alcohol, that time they'd visited Grimmauld Place.
Harry was hardly about copy his godfather and start drinking now. His only source of alcohol - how he remembered the proud, happy smile on Draco's face when he Charmed Firewhiskey! - was down in the kitchen...
...or was he? Harry lifted his head from the pillow. He could hear footsteps and voices. A chattering multitude was climbing up the stairs.
"If this is what shagging results in, Fred, I'm glad we haven't."
"Couldn't agree more, George."
"This is so like Harry, Draco. He always hides himself away when there's something wrong. He hid when he thought he was possessed by You Know Who, instead of talking to me - and he knew I'd been possessed and could have helped him."
"I say, Ginny!" Harry heard Draco reply, and even in his misery, his heart leapt at the sound of his ex-boyfriend's voice. He listened to the rising sound of chatter outside the door. How many people had Draco brought?
"Who's there?" Harry called out.
There was a crescendo of people shouting their names. It sounded like all of Draco's Slytherin friends, and all his new Gryffindor friends as well. Harry buried his face in the pillow, and groaned. Gryffindors might aspire to being lone heroes, but judging from the noise level outside, it appeared peer pressure groups were more a Slytherin's style. The last thing that Harry wanted was to face everybody.
There was a knock on the door. "Let us in, Harry," Hermione demanded.
"Go away!" shouted Harry. He wondered if he sounded childish. Then he decided that he didn't care.
"No!" said Draco crossly. "We need to talk, Harry."
"We don't need to talk in front of EVERYBODY!"
"Why not? There are a lot of people out here who care about you, Harry."
Another crescendo, this time of agreements.
"We don't want you beating yourself up about this Vow," Ginny shouted. "It's Umbridge's fault. She's such a bi-"
"Ginny," warned Hermione.
"Well, she is! Barnes is too! Let us in, Harry!" The door handle twisted, but the locking spell held.
"No!" cried Harry. "Draco, why'd you have to invite everyone? This is embarrassing-"
"You think YOU'RE embarrassed, Harry? Ron blabbed about my diary and Nott and Hermione made me get it out so everyone could read it. I nearly died..."
Harry frowned against the pillow. "Nobody knew about your diary?"
"They know now. Thanks a LOT, Weasley."
Ron gave a wicked laugh.
"It's for your own good, Malfoy," said Theodore.
"That's what YOU say, Nott. You just wanted to read it."
"It was interesting. Loved the pictures of Hermione."
"Shut up, Nott!"
"Harry, let us in," said Pansy. "I'm tired of standing around out here."
"No!"
"All right, I'm sick of this," said Hermione. "Alohomora!"
The door clicked open, and a familiar crowd flooded into the attic bedroom, with Hermione in the lead, clutching Draco's massive diary, and Draco in the middle, pale, red-eyed and being supported by the entire group.
"You can stop this nonsense right now, Harry," Hermione scolded. "You have to stay with Draco."
Harry sat up fast, wiping his eyes and blushing furiously. "Hermione!" he grumbled. Draco sat down gracefully down next to him, and the bed shuddered and rocked, as everyone else climbed on. Pansy ended up on the Weasley twins' laps and giggled. The floor creaked. The attic bedroom, let alone the bed, had probably never held so many people.
"Sorry for doing this to you, mate," said Ron apologetically. "But Hermione says the Vow will probably kill Draco if you break up."
Harry moaned in horror.
"And before he dies, he'll whine endlessly to us! Take pity on our eardrums, please, and go back to him!" said Blaise.
"You should have heard Draco downstairs," George smirked. "We HAD to come up to make you date him again, Harry, so we could get some peace and quiet!"
Draco rolled his eyes and snuggled possessively up to Harry, who wanted to scoot away, but Ron's words held him still, and there wasn't any room left on the bed anyway. Besides, Draco was warm and he smelled so good. As he buried his face in Harry's neck, Harry distinctly heard him murmur, "Mine!"
"Draco, don't do that to Harry in public," said Ron uncomfortably.
"There's no limit to what I'd do to Harry in public. You should know," said Draco, lifting his head from Harry's neck and smirking at Ron. The Slytherins sniggered. Ron appeared to remember the blowjob, and looked faint.
"Too much information!" he exclaimed.
"Draco, this is wrong," said Harry dully. "The Vow is a Love Potion. You're putting all this effort into getting back with someone you hate."
Draco's eyes burned. "Stubborn Gryffindor!" he growled, and sucked hard on Harry's neck. Harry yelled and fell back into the throng of people on his bed, with Draco on top.
"Draco, get OFF him," said Hermione irritably. "I want to show Harry those ... interesting parts ... of your diary."
"Oh no!" Draco gave an embarrassed groan and sat up at once. Harry sat up too, noting that though shagging and physical nakedness didn't embarrass the Slytherin at all, he seemed to find emotional nakedness, such as his diary, absolutely excruciating.
"Yes," said Hermione. She set the diary down on in the middle of the bed, in front of Harry, and opened the battered, leather cover, forcing people to squeeze back.
Harry glanced at the first page. He hadn't seen it before, but then, he hadn't paid attention to any of the earlier pages. In big, green handwriting that looked childish, but still very tidy, like his adult handwriting, Draco had written:
School Diary of Draco Malfoy, aged 11. One of my 11th birthday presents from Mother and Father.
"Harry, Ron tells me you didn't read the first part of Draco's diary," said Hermione.
"I didn't."
"You should. It might make you understand Draco better," said Hermione.
"Harry, you want to save Draco from your touch because you think he used to hate you?" asked Theodore. Harry nodded miserably.
"Then at least look at his diary and find out WHY he hated you. You might be surprised."
"I assumed he hated me because he had to; we were on opposite sides," said Harry, glancing at Draco, who was fidgeting.
"No, that's not why I started hating you," Draco said. With a resigned shrug, he added, "Just read what Hermione shows you. I don't have any secrets. Not from anyone, any more." He pouted at the grinning crowd on the bed. Fred and George laughed evilly. Pansy made a show of slapping their faces, and they fended her off, grinning.
"Did you know Draco planned to be your best friend, before First Year started?" Hermione asked.
"No," said Harry slowly, while Draco squirmed in his arms. "He apologized and said we should have been friends, outside the Wizengamot." Knowledge of Slytherin wiles compelled Harry to add: "But he was desperate for my help at the time."
Draco frowned.
"And he asked me to be his friend, in First Year, on the Hogwart's Express," Harry went on. "But I thought he'd asked me on the spur of the moment."
"Ah, Harry, you have no idea," Hermione sighed, and turned the page. "Read this," she said bossily.
Harry was getting sick of being ordered around, but he looked at the words written above the swatch of pasted-in black fabric and read:
31st July 1991
Father, Mother and I went to Diagon Alley to buy school things today. I met a boy there. I was getting my school robes pinned up in Madam Malkin's, and I looked over and he was there, being pinned up as well.
I thought I was the only kid who was nervous about going to school, but he looked nervous too, so I talked to him, though I didn't know who his family were.
But the boy left, before he told me his name. I don't know why, but I really wanted to know who he was. I followed him out of the shop and saw him walking off, eating ice-cream, with that barbarian savage Father told me about. I wanted to ask the boy his name, but Hagrid is so big it's scary. People shouldn't be ALLOWED to be that big. Then I lost my chance to speak to the boy, because Madam Malkin came out and dragged me back inside. I'd walked off wearing that stupid school uniform and the fool thought I was stealing it. As if anyone in MY family would have to steal something because they couldn't afford it! Mother turned up, and heard Madam Malkin accusing me of being a thief. I told her I was just following that boy, not stealing, and Mother and Madam Malkin started yelling at each other.
While they were yelling, I picked up this bit of fabric that got cut off the boy's school uniform while he was getting fitted. He was kind of scrawny, so they had to cut off a lot. When we left the shop, Mother was in a bad mood and asked me what I was doing collecting off-cuts like that. She said that strange boy had caused enough trouble already, and for all I knew, he might have been a Weasley or a Mudblood.
But I said the boy had black hair and no freckles, and his parents were a witch and a wizard, and both dead. They must have been our kind of people to be dead, because only people like Nott, Crabbe and Goyle have dead parents.
I would hate to lose Mother, even when she's in a bad mood. Losing Father as well would be the worst thing ever.
When Father met up with us, I wanted to stay at Diagon Alley and look around for the boy. I wouldn't have minded meeting Hagrid if both Mother and Father were there. But all my school shopping was done, and Mother was still cross and wanted to go home. I would have said something, but Father gave me my new wand to play with. I can send out green sparks! Mother says I'll learn how to use it properly at Hogwarts. Then I'll be able to teach Muggles and Madam Malkin a thing or two! A thief? Ha!
I keep thinking about that boy. I wonder who he was? Father says I'm sure to see him at Hogwarts. I can't wait! It would be good to have a friend who's smarter than Crabbe and Goyle.
Harry finished reading, but before he turned the page, he reached out and felt the familiar texture of his first Hogwarts robe. He'd grown out of that robe years ago, and thrown it away. Aunt Petunia hadn't even dared to use it as dusters, saying that the freakish, magic material would probably turn her precious antiques into alligators.
The handwriting on the next page was shaky:
1st August 1991 3am
This diary is supposed to be about school, but I had to write what just happened. Arthur Weasley and his Ministry cronies raided our mansion AGAIN tonight. That's twice in one week I've been woken up at one or two in the morning by the front doors being blasted open, and Ministry thugs coming up the stairs.
I HATE Arthur Weasley. Doesn't he ever work during the day? He always raids our mansion after midnight. Sometimes 3am, sometimes 4am. We never know when he's coming.
He made Mother, Father and I line up in the hall, while they searched our bedrooms. I shrunk this diary and kept it in my pyjamas, so they couldn't read it. The FIRST spell I'm going to learn from my new textbooks is how to keep my diary safe. I HATE not having any privacy. I HATE going back to my bedroom, when Weasley and his cronies have gone, and finding all my draws open and my bed pulled apart. It makes me want to cry and I'm not supposed to cry. I'm eleven years old now and grown up.
Father was very polite to Weasley, as usual, but I know he wants to kill him. I want to kill him too. I remember when I was four, and I woke up and saw Arthur Weasley standing over my bed, and I screamed and wet myself. I was so scared and ashamed. For years, I was too scared to sleep in my own bed, because of the raids. I had to sleep in Mother and Father's bed. It's all Weasley's fault.
Father says I'm sure to see some of Weasley's children at Hogwarts. They all wear hand-me-down robes. He says the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford. I swear, when I see them, I am going to make their lives at Hogwarts a misery, like their father has made my life a misery.
Harry looked at Ron, who was reading the same page. Draco had his arms folded and his face was a grim mask.
"You want me to apologize for my Dad's raids, don't you?" Ron asked Draco.
Draco glared at him and tightened his folded arms. "No apology would ever be enough."
"My Dad raided your mansion because your family were Dark wizards concealing Dark Magic. And he was RIGHT, you WERE," said Ron stoutly.
"And if we hadn't have been Dark, we would have become Dark, just to spite you," snarled Draco. "Those endless raids were torture!"
"Sorry," said Ron, at length. "I had nothing to do with it."
Draco looked at him for a moment, and then started fiddling with his robes. "I know."
Harry looked back down at the diary. The page next to the one describing the raid was covered in childish drawings of Arthur Weasley being alternately garrotted, stunned and hit with the Killing Curse. Draco had been a skilled artist, even at that age. Harry turned quickly to the next page, which was stiff. There were a lot of things stuck on the other side.
1st August 1991 10am
I was tired because of the raid and I slept in. But I woke up really fast when Mother showed me this morning's Daily Prophet. Now I know that boy's name! Harry Potter!
I KNEW there was something special about him!
Underneath, Draco had pasted in a Daily Prophet article, written by Rita Skeeter, announcing the return to the wizarding world of Harry James Potter, The Boy Who Lived. There was a blurred photo of an eleven-year-old Harry, oblivious to the photographer, shopping at Hagrid's side, and interviews with the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron, who had shaken his hand.
"He was very gracious!" Rita Skeeter had recorded Doris Crockford as saying. "He shook my hand five times!"
Rita Skeeter also noted that the latest Chocolate Frog card had come out, this one bearing Harry Potter's portrait, with fireworks dancing behind. Draco had stuck one in with Spellotape next to the article. Harry shuddered with the embarrassment that that card always caused him. They hadn't asked HIM if he wanted to be on a Chocolate Frog card. He hadn't even sat for a portrait. He wasn't familiar with the magic involved and he had no idea how they had gotten his picture.
Draco's writing resumed immediately after the card:
I can't believe I was talking to the most powerful, famous, richest kid in the wizarding world yesterday! It would be SO COOL for everyone to see me with Potter! When I see him again, I'm going to go right up to him, shake his hand, and ask him to be my best friend!
1pm
I sent a letter to Potter, asking him to tea, but my letter just came back undelivered. I'm furious with Loki and really puzzled. My new eagle owl has never failed to deliver a letter before. He's so big and tough that he smashed through Goyle's window, when Goyle didn't open it fast enough.
I'll go and ask Father for help.
4pm
Father wanted to know what I was doing, sending invitations to the boy who killed the Dark Lord. I said Harry Potter was only one year old, when he killed the Dark Lord, so maybe he didn't mean it. I said it would be really cool to have him as a friend, and Father looked angrier than I'd seen him, and I got scared, then suddenly he agreed. He said having Harry Potter around would prove to the Ministry that we weren't Dark wizards, and Arthur Weasley wouldn't be able to drum up enough support to raid our mansion.
So Father sent out my invitation to Potter again, this time with Zeus, his old eagle owl. But Zeus couldn't deliver the invitation either.
Father says Potter must be under some sort of powerful magical protection, which means owls from strangers can't find him. That would explain why no one's been able to track Potter's home down, since he destroyed the Dark Lord.
What a life Potter must lead! He's so powerful, I bet he hates the idea of Mudbloods going to Hogwarts too. I bet he knows more about magic than any of us. HE'S SO COOL!
Father says I'll have to wait until school starts, before I see Potter again, because we have no way of contacting him. BUT IT'S NOT FAIR! I CAN'T WAIT!
The undelivered invitation was pasted in underneath and Draco had drawn a sad face next to it.
Harry flipped through the next pages. They contained more pasted-in articles about him. Draco was working himself up into a frenzy of expectation about meeting Harry properly for the first time and Harry recalled the overly familiar way Draco had asked, "So it's you, is it?" on the Hogwart's Express. If the diary was any indication, Draco had been thinking about Harry night and day since they'd met in Madam Malkin's.
Then came the entry for 1st September 1991. In savage, spiky writing, Draco had written:
I HATE Harry Potter. I went up him in the Hogwart's Express and he was so rude to me! He didn't want to be my friend! He wouldn't shake my hand! He hated me on sight!
The worst part is, guess who he's chosen to be his best friend instead of me? RON WEASLEY! Potter is spending all his time with the son of the man who raids my home! Oh, I'll get even with Potter for this if it's the last thing I do! I'll make him wish he'd never come to Hogwarts. I'll get him and the Weasel expelled...
Harry couldn't bring himself to read any further. "What's this?" he asked Draco, pointing to an empty Chocolate Frog wrapper Spellotaped to the page. Somehow, Harry already knew...
"That second time I met you. On the train, when you refused to be my friend," said Draco frowning. "I grabbed that wrapper when Ron's rat bit Goyle and no one was looking. Then I ran for it, in case you had another attack rat stashed somewhere."
"What did you want with a wrapper?" asked Harry.
"I thought maybe I could put a hex on you with it, or do something with it to make you stop hating me," said Draco frowning. "But in the end I didn't have the power or the spells so I just stuck it in my diary."
"You were obsessed, Draco," said Ron. "Even I don't spend this much time worrying about Harry's press clippings and Chocolate Frog cards. Even Harry doesn't."
"I pretend they don't happen," muttered Harry.
Hermione looked at Harry and Draco and rubbed her mouth, her eyes bright. "It's strange to think how different things could have been," she said. "If Draco had been less alarmed by Hagrid, he would have invited you to tea while you were still at Madam Malkins, Harry. Then you would have known a Slytherin family, and you probably wouldn't have minded so much, being Sorted into Slytherin. If you'd been in Slytherin, you probably would have been Draco's best friend, and Ron would have been your best enemy instead."
Harry and Ron looked at her incredulously.
"Because we know what happened after you and Draco fought on the train, Harry," Hermione continued. "You became best enemies, instead of best friends." She flicked through the pasted in articles, and stopped, grinning. "Look at these photographs. Draco got Colin Creevy to take them." She pointed at the page and Harry could see, not only candid, moving, magic photos of himself at work and play, but, scribbled in next to them, what Draco had paid Colin. As he gave Draco an exasperated look, Harry realised why Colin had always been so keen to take photos of him, especially in the most compromising and painful situations, such as lying on the Quidditch pitch with a broken arm. The worse time Harry was having in the photo, the more Draco was paying!
"You hypocrite! After all that teasing Harry about signed photos in Second Year. I bet YOU wouldn't have said no to a signed photo," said Hermione, and she winked at Draco, whose face was an interesting shade of crimson.
"I can imagine what Harry would have written on a photo he was sending to ME back then," said Draco, and everyone laughed.
"But none of this means Draco loved me, or even fancied me, Hermione. Draco HATED me," said Harry.
"It shows Draco had strong feelings for you, that started out positive," said Hermione wisely.
"Draco called me names and HIT me!" Harry didn't want to sound childish but he was certain that he did.
"Well Harry, little boys hit those they like," said Hermione matter-of-factly.
"I wasn't a little boy and I HATED Harry after he didn't want me as a friend," Draco pointed out. But Hermione merely gave him a knowing look.
"Rubbish!" she said. "I hate V-Voldemort. But I don't keep bits of his old school uniform under my pillow." Everyone but Harry, Draco and Hermione winced at the name.
"Draco hated YOU, Hermione, have you seen this?" Harry asked, flicking to the page where an embarrassed image of Hermione was trying to duck out of reach of the devil's horns, moustache, long fangs, and beard Draco had drawn.
Unexpectedly, Hermione burst out laughing. "Jealousy's a curse, Draco!"
Thought it hardly seemed possible to Harry, Draco went even redder.
"I NEVER dated Harry, let alone cheated on him with Krum," she said, pointing to the Rita Skeeter article next to the photograph. "You were a fool to believe Rita Skeeter, Draco. You, of all people, should have known her articles were a lot of hot air, after all, you helped her write some of them!"
"Hermione, you and Harry were always together," Pansy pointed out, from the shelter of the twins' laps. "You LOOKED like you were dating."
"Harry's GAY!" bellowed Hermione, breathless with mirth. "He's never been the least bit interested in me! And I've never been interested in him, what with his permanently messy hair, Quidditch obsession, endless competitiveness and foul temper. You and Harry are a perfect match, Draco!"
"You're not one to talk about messy hair, Hermione," said Harry indignantly. He shivered with pleasure, when Draco ran a Grooming Charm through his unruly locks.
Ron was bewildered. "What are you two fighting about? You don't fancy each other. You've never fancied each other. Have you?" he asked nervously, as if he didn't fancy the thought of Harry's competition.
"No, we've never fancied each other, Ron, but Draco was still jealous," said Hermione. She laughed. "I was the Mudblood Harry dared to be friends with, when he wouldn't be friends with Draco! Draco was always calling attention to my lack of magical breeding, because it was the worst thing that HE, being a pure-blood, could think of. It didn't even occur to him, Harry, that you didn't care!"
Draco squirmed.
"Calling you a Mudblood only made me hate him more. It didn't make me hate you," said Harry.
"Precisely. What a stupid, messy, painful relationship you two have had! But it's all due to the fact Draco liked you very, very much at first, Harry, and you disappointed him. People do stupid things when strong emotions are involved," said Hermione.
"Like the time you set a flock of canaries on me, because I was dating Lavender Brown?" said Ron, rather cruelly.
Now it was Hermione's turn to blush. The Slytherins burst out laughing. "Precisely," said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster, after the laughter had died down. She looked at Draco. "Didn't you realise, while you were sulking and brooding over the fact Harry wanted nothing to do with you, a single magic word could have brought him over? A word that could have ended all the fighting between the Houses?"
Everyone stared at her. "A single magic word could have stopped the fighting? WHAT magic word?" Draco asked, leaning forward as if hoping to learn a spell of indescribable power.
"SORRY!" said Hermione, laughing, and Draco sat back with a disappointed expression on his face.
"Just sorry?" he asked.
"Yes! It would have changed everything. SORRY, Harry, I called your friend Hermione a Mudblood. SORRY, I called Ron a blood traitor. SORRY I've been making your life a misery for so long. I just wanted your attention. Can we please be friends?"
"It wouldn't have worked," said Draco. "Harry and Ron would have just mocked me."
Hermione frowned at her friends. "Maybe," she said. "It takes a big event to make these two forget to be enemies with someone. It took a troll, for me. And it took V-Voldemort for you." She ignored the winces all around her.
"If Malfoy had apologised to Harry Potter during school, the Dark Lord would have seen it in his head and killed him," said Theodore bluntly.
"I know," said Hermione. "Maybe it's for the best that we're all friends now, and not then? The Sorting Hat did keep singing about how all the Houses needed to be friends and it must know what it's talking about. It's over a thousand years old."
"It's still just a hat, though," said Harry. "Hermione, you still haven't given me any proof that Draco loved me, or wanted to shag me, before the Vow. Yes, he had an unhealthy obsession-"
Draco cut him off with a sneer. "Speaking of unhealthy, what's the matter with your hair, Harry? It's fighting off my Grooming Charm."
Harry put his hand up and felt his hair was, as usual, sticking up messily.
"Is that the only part of your body that sticks up when you don't want it to?" teased Draco, in a suggestive voice that made Harry blush and everyone else chuckle.
"I'm sorry, Harry," said Hermione. "But however Draco felt about you, the Vow is partially your fault-"
"So I have to date a boy, forever, who doesn't love me or fancy me," said Harry.
"That's right," said Theodore brutally.
"He cared for you at first, Harry, so it's not too unlikely that he can truly be your friend," said Hermione. When Harry looked doubtful, she added, "I'm sorry, Harry, but there's no alternative. You have to be with Draco."
Ginny kicked furiously at the mattress and Ron leaned his chin on his hand and looked glum.
Nobody spoke for a while. Then Draco, who had been staring into space, looked up. He hesitated before he spoke. "Harry. I do have proof that I fancied you before the Vow-"
"Well, let's hear it then," said Theodore. Even Crabbe and Goyle managed to look interested.
"Is it sexy?" asked Blaise, with a sleazy grin.
Draco bit his lip. "Uh..."
"Spit it out, Malfoy!" said Blaise. "I can't believe you haven't told us already. You've always been into full disclosure!"
"You won't want to hear about THIS memory."
"Rubbish! We're all ears, Malfoy."
With a determined set of his pointed chin, Draco said, "It's the memory Voldemort put into my head, when he made me a Death Eater." There was silence. "Still want to know, Zabini?"
Abruptly, Blaise got to his feet, shaking the overloaded bed. "It's just occurred to me that I'm already in the Dark Lord's bad books as it is. I don't want to make him angrier. Sexy or not, I think I'll give your memory a miss, Malfoy." He walked towards the stairs, and the bed rocked, as everyone but Draco and Harry followed him, muttering goodbyes.
Hermione was the last to leave. She gave Harry a grim nod, through the open door, and followed everyone else downstairs.
Draco pointed his wand at the door, and it shut and locked.
"Can I use Legilimency?" asked Harry. The feeling of dread had returned.
Draco nodded, but as Harry raised his wand, Draco wrapped his hand around it.
"Wait, Harry. I'm not sure this is a good idea." Draco took a deep breath. "Do you still love me? Despite the diary?"
"Yes," said Harry, puzzled.
Expelling the breath, Draco said. "Then I REALLY don't want to show you. Once you've see how Voldemort tempted me, Harry ... you're going to HATE me..."
oOoOoOo
Author's Notes: What secret desires did Voldemort tease out of Draco's head? It's all in ... the next chapter. Bwahahahaha! ;-)
Review time! Please review and I'll think up extra kinky desires for Draco... ;-)
The Harry Potter wizard card is out of an old Harry Potter video game. It was card number 100, I seem to recall, but I can't recall the name of the game.
Replies to reviews:
Thank you to the following people for reviewing: lonley.hopelessly-romantic, Muchacha, FloofWolfe, WarriorsSword6, Fmh, 6tigercubs, Norwegian MoonShadow, Emu Alive and Kicking, Weissgal35, Moyima, BonneNuit, Fred kissed George, Your Mom Is My Heart., dracoizumi, bellajen94, Eagle-Eyes, Anissina June, Silvermane1, LunaSky, ThePotionsMiss, jinxgirl71, sasunaru lover, Riku-Rocks, Bad fairy, MaisaG, keske, Night Air, Silver-Tiger-Fira,
NinjaoftheDarkness, Potter's Wifey, Yellowwolf, hearts. CatWriter, Moonsign, Crowley Black, and thrnbrooke.
Hodemi: Thanks for your review. I think Draco's friends might have preferred Azkaban to the Vow. The thing about Azkaban is that at some point, you can get out. But an Unbreakable Vow? It remains to be seen if Draco can escape. ;-)
ProperT: LOL! Thanks for reviewing. I stuck some flirtation between Fred and George, and Pansy, into this chapter because you suggested it! ;-)