Story: The Serpentines
Rating: PG-13 (Might change later on)
Disclaimer: Characters belong to JK Rowling. :'( And I make no profit off of this, yadda yadda yadda...
Warnings: AU, HPDM Slash (Eventually!), Non-magic, WiP
Summary: When Harry Potter makes the cut for the nationwide sensation, The Serpentines, he's in for the ride of his life, no thanks to his new band mate, Draco Malfoy. Unfortunately for Harry, he's not as made for being a musician as he thought he was. But he'll be damned if he lets Draco know that, especially when he thinks the other man's got a hidden agenda.
Notes and such: This chapter's really short, and I'm super sorry for that! My best friend is leaving to go back to school because his winter break is over, and so I spent pretty much the whole week hanging out with him, and I didn't have much time to write! Also, the game is actually something I play with my brothers in the middle of the night and it's REALLY fun! Of course we play in a house, and not backstage at some arena, so there's only so many hiding spots... haha! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and sorry for teasing you guys with a preview that was probably not quite what you expected it to be, in the last chapter!
Panting heavily, Harry pushed forward, a driving force forming in his stomach which was twisting almost painfully from the sheer adrenaline. His hips swayed mechanically with the speed of his movements though in the dark they were not even noticeable. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his erratic breathing. They needed to be quiet, and he couldn't just be inhaling and exhaling so obviously. A noise sounded from the side of the room but Harry paid it no mind. He was almost there, so close!
"Ahhh!" He exclaimed loudly when he felt Malfoy's hand squeeze his shoulder tightly. He stopped moving, and his body sagged as he panted openly. There was no use holding it in anymore, after all. Turning his head to glance behind him, he sent Malfoy a glare. The blond was lightly illuminated by the small neon green glow-stick around his neck, and Harry could see the satisfied smirk on the green-tinted lips.
Rolling his eyes, he snatched the stick that was hanging from Malfoy's neck and slid it over his own head to where it rested above his chest. It did little to light the room in front of him, and past his arms all Harry could see was pitch black.
"It's my turn now, Malfoy. I'm gonna come for you."
Malfoy quirked a brow, "We'll see, Potter."
Harry gave Malfoy a competitive grin before turning back around and heading for the door at the end of the hallway, outside of the room Malfoy had caught him in.
It had been a couple of weeks since Harry's first day on tour, and he had since found ways to occupy his empty time in between shows. They had arrived here at today's venue earlier around noon, and had since passed the time by exploring and playing games. Currently the game being played was called cleverly called "Hide and Glow-Seek" by Harry and Astoria.
The rules of the game were simple. One person was "It," and they had to find at least one person in the dark rooms and tag them. They would wear the glow-stick around their neck to help them see in the dark, though it wasn't really much help. However, the door that tagger waited at was the "Safe Spot" for everyone else. If they managed to make it to the Safe Spot before they were tagged, they were declared as unable to be tagged for that round.
That was where Harry had been running to when Malfoy had sneakily caught him.
It was a childish game, but Harry had soon figured out that Astoria was the kid of group, being physically and mentally younger, and she found fun in the simplest of things. Harry had helped her spice up the simple game of Hide and Seek into something that was a bit more challenging, though it was still considered a "stupid baby game" by Pansy.
Needless to say she had refused to invitation to play.
Harry really, really, really hated waiting for long periods of time, especially when you were in a small room waiting to be interviewed. It did not bode well with the lunch Harry had earlier.
Granted 'earlier' was around three hours ago.
That jumping-leg habit was starting to appear again, and he looked around warily, waiting for the interviewer to jump out from one of the couches and give him a heart attack. That would be a tragic story, 'New Bassist dies of shock from crazy couch jumper!' You'll be fine, it's not like they're going to ask you embarrassing questions.
They would probably ask something silly and obvious. No worries.
Pansy had booked the band to do a radio interview before sound check at the local radio station nearby the venue. It was to keep up appearances, she said, and to get themselves out there. They didn't want to be hermits, after all.
That didn't mean Harry had to like it.
After what seemed like hours of waiting, they were escorted into a small cramped room with lots of microphones and metal. A man and a woman were sitting at the small table in the middle of the room, both with big headphones covering their ears.
Upon the band's entrance, Blaise leading the band enthusiastically, the two stood up to greet each of them. They shook Harry's had firmly.
"Hello, guys. Oh, and girl, my bad," the man said unapologetically, looking very much like he intended for that to be funny. Astoria gave him a courtesy laugh. "I'm Scott, this is Thea," he motioned to the blonde woman sitting excitedly next to him who waved when he name was mentioned. "Welcome, we're happy to have you all here. We'd like to just briefly go over what's going to happen in a few minutes here, alright?"
Pansy quickly looked over the questions they had prepared to ask, as well as the content of the conversation, posing as both their publicist and manager. Harry stared at the door longingly in the meantime, wishing Hermione could be here.
He hadn't heard much from his bushy-haired brunette friend. She was occupied with school during the day, and at night, she was asleep or studying, leaving them rarely any time to talk. Thankfully, the seemingly endless hours on the road brought him closer to Astoria, who was quickly becoming like a sister to him. She was sort of like the nicer, more fun, and female version of Malfoy.
Malfoy had also become increasingly nicer. Not that he was tossing tulips at Harry and announcing the beauty of the world, but they snapped at each other frequently less. It was odd, because Harry had been sure that they'd eventually have some kind of confrontation where there would be an epic fight going down.
But alas, no such thing had yet to happen. Not that I'm upset by that, but it would be interesting.
His attention was brought back to the radio interview by Astoria's firm grip on his arm. He was seated in between her and Blaise, Draco sitting on the other side of Blaise, and closer to the radio hosts.
"You just heard "Honey" by The Hush Sound. Now today on the show we have some very special guests," the man smiled pleasantly at everyone. "The Serpentines are here in the studio with us, and are ready to answer some questions. Now, this is actually your first interview since being in the band Harry, isn't it?"
Harry nodded mutely, feeling a lump in his throat he couldn't quite swallow.
"Perfect, so we should feel quite honored then, eh?" The couple laughed and Harry felt he should offer a smile, however weak it looked. "So tell us how it all happened, Harry. Since it's your first interview, nobody really knows much about you."
Cleared throat? Check.
Sweaty palms? Check.
Leaning in to the microphone? Check.
Words coming out of your mouth? Not so much…
Astoria's hand squeezed his knee comfortingly, and Harry managed to get out a few words, albeit a bit shakily. "Um, well I was in my third year of University a few months ago when the auditions came by. My friend Hermione helped me out with it—"
"So you had to quit school?" The man interrupted.
"Uh, yes."
"And once you got the job, what happened?"
"A lot of things, really," Harry saw Draco turn to watch him out of his peripherals. He leaned a little closer to the microphone. "We did a lot of practicing, they had to get me all up-to-date with the music and just getting me settled. Then we began the tour not long ago." He sat back in his chair, relaxing significantly now that his story was finished.
"Ah, speaking of touring, we heard about your late start on your first show. I guess you, uh, froze and then fainted?" The man chuckled, and Harry tensed up immediately, feeling a bit angry at the man for laughing at his situation.
Malfoy spoke up next, flashing Harry a charming smile before revealing something he wish the blond never knew. "Harry's afraid of tomatoes."
His eyes narrowed at Malfoy fractionally, and he saw that spark in the gray eyes that signified a challenge being tossed in the air, just waiting for Harry to grab the bait. And he would have, he had found lots of incriminating things about Malfoy in the past few months. Unfortunately, the slightly balding man interrupted the conversation again.
"You're afraid of tomatoes?"
"I don't particularly like them, but I'm not afraid," Harry cleared up, though he heard Malfoy whisper something about being scared enough to faint. His cheeks flared up with anger and embarrassment, and he wished he were sitting next to Malfoy so he could physically hurt him. Words were clearly not his forte, and he'd only end up looking ridiculous if he got into a verbal fight.
Just when he thought Malfoy was becoming nicer, and that they were getting along, he goes and does something like this.
For the most part, the shows went the same way every night. Harry, Blaise and Astoria would all go on stage first, playing the intro to the first song, and Malfoy would show up after the crowd got riled up a bit.
It was still difficult for Harry in the beginning. His heart would beat quickly, and he'd have to continuously wipe his palms against his trousers. His hands would be shaky as he grabbed his bass from the roadie, and those first few plucks of the thick metal string would always be a little hesitant and unsure.
When Malfoy showed up, Harry's nervous panic would begin to disappear into a dull throb in his chest, and his fingers would become more purposeful.
There was no special reason behind it, like Malfoy being so beautiful that Harry wanted to serenade him with his baritone sound. It was only for the simple fact that when Malfoy appeared, all attention went to the blond, and stayed off of Harry for the most part. He could only hide behind his instrument so much, but Malfoy was like an eclipse, and Harry was ever grateful.
This show felt odd, though. It felt different, in a way Harry couldn't grasp at first.
About halfway through the show, the back of Harry's neck tingled. It was that feeling you get when you think someone's watching you, only it was much more direct. There were hundreds of people staring in Harry's direction, but he could tell it wasn't them.
Pushing his foot off of the large speaker he had rested it on, he turned his body towards the left. A shock ran through his body when he noticed the bright eyes staring intently at him.
He stared back, his eyebrow lifting slowly in confusion when Draco took an uncharacteristically hesitant step towards him.
Abandoning the uncertainty quickly, it just isn't him, Malfoy strode over to Harry. His eyes seemed so much more vivid than normal and Harry was sure it was due to the intensely bright beams of light hitting them. It was a little disconcerting having Malfoy stare at him with those eyes, in that way…
When Malfoy walked behind him, Harry gulped, but when Malfoy pressed his body up against him from behind, Harry's fingers slipped on the string and the next few notes were all jumbled and wrong.
The closest they had ever been together was when they had to sit next to one another, and that one time when Harry tripped over the cement and accidentally pushed Malfoy onto the grass. But those had been innocent, and the way Malfoy was swaying his hips behind Harry was anything but.
However the crowd loved it. The cheers and screams that came from them was almost as loud and intense as it was when Malfoy first came out on stage.
One determined hand even managed to slide itself over Harry's back and shoulder before he realized he was being shamelessly groped in front of all these people, by a man who didn't exactly like Harry. He wanted to say something, and he wanted to look back at Malfoy and ask him what the fuck he was doing, because Harry sure as hell was confused. But all he could do was stand there rigidly, concentrating deeply on where his fingers were supposed to go next. Across the stage, Astoria was looking over at them with shock clearly evident on her face, which was soon followed by amusement.
Maybe this was a joke. Perhaps Blaise dared Malfoy to do this and when the show was over they'd all have a good laugh about poor little Potter who got all scared and worked up.
He didn't really notice when Malfoy had pulled away from him to pick up singing the rest of the song. All he could think of was that Malfoy would pay for this, for Harry's humiliation. One way or another, something would happen, and Malfoy needed to think twice before deciding to humiliate him.
The next morning Harry had been up for hours before Blaise and Astoria woke up.
Malfoy didn't get up until after noon, and when he showed himself to his band mates. He was sickly white and sweaty, his hair disheveled and the faint hint of vomit coming from him.
Harry was both concerned and happy that Malfoy was sick, because finally—finally—he was getting what he deserved.
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