Author's Note: I think I have gotten myself deep in a mess. This story is getting to be freaking serious. I had even to do some research on some facts and they all have miraculously lined up to form a plot like little obedient ants. But I CAN'T stop writing. I feel actually weirded out that somebody is even reading this and thank you few for that:)
Note to Author's Note: I have always liked reading A/N's in the beginnings of fanfics so while feeling a need to express myself I know i have all rights to do it:) And don't hesitate to tell what you dislike, hate, find weird, wrong or even liked in the story up so far in the reviews. I want to know!
5- The Raving Lunatic of Hogwarts
What both boys hadn't expected was that they would get drunk so swiftly. They had downed only a few swigs of the liquor when they were already giggling and tittering all over the infirmary.
"Imagine the irony of the situation, Potter," Draco sat in front of him, cross-legged, gesticulating with his hands so they seemed to become elegant Veela succumbed in a dance. They had settled in with their drinking procedure on the chilly tiled floor between their beds where they had fallen after a particularly funny joke and hadn't still mustered the will and strength to climb up again. "We are here, at Hogwarts, said to be the safest place where you can be in this tight political situation with a Headmaster that is the only person the Dark Lord is afraid of, but almost anybody with enough desire and slyness can get in and attack two innocent and unaware students in the middle of the day. And then disappear without a trace. I mean, who knows what the others thought of finding us, tangled together in an unused classroom, laying on each other."
"That's not funny, actually. What if they think I was the one who bit you, Malfoy?" Harry sobered immediately; feeling like someone had poured a bucket of freezing cold water all over him. The smile that had been on his face as a result of the lightheadedness they had both achieved through the alcohol vanished all of a sudden.
"Well, it isn't actually incorrect; you were the one who bit me, Potter," there was a mischievous glint in the blonde's eyes, it looked almost scary when Harry thought of the schemes and plots his brain could be cooking up that very moment. The half smirk, half grin on his face made him look like a puppy that had chewed up the sofa and was feeling proud of it. "But I don't think you have to worry about someone thinking that you have turned into a vampire. Your beloved Dumbly with protect you no matter what."
"Actually, I don't think that Dumbledore is in such a state of mind that somebody will take him seriously. He has become a raving lunatic over the past week from what I have seen," the mood had changed. Even Draco wasn't making jokes anymore. Suddenly somehow brought back to reality was the awareness that they had really been attacked. They had really both seen the dream with Voldemort. And it really was serious.
"Raving lunatic, huh?" Draco finally spoke, his tone flat. "So you think he might not be able to help?"
"I actually doubt that anyone on this planet can help us. You saw the dream. Voldemort really did make a determined impression. And… I think… this time he was after you…"
They sat facing each other, leaning against the sides of their beds, staring at the floor and their feet. Malfoy then reached for the bottle and started drinking almost hysterically. One long breath, countless gulps, he was sticking to the whisky bottle for his dear life. For a few seconds Harry just stared at him in shock, mouth agape. Then he realized the possible consequences of this maniacal action, collected himself and rushed for the bottle.
"Easy, Malfoy!" he tore it away from the boys lips, some liquid escaped and ran a bit down his chin while caughed because of the strong liquor burning his throat, but Harry hoped he had managed to save the other boy from alcohol poisoning and vomiting all over the place.
The Slytherin was staring at Harry with his silver eyes wide open like a little child's. Fear and confusion were swimming just under the surface, behind the dilated pupils, that gave away his drunkenness.
And, God, he looked beautiful. Maybe it was Harry's hero complex speaking, but the blonde seemed to be a delicate and fragile porcelain doll that wanted to forget this world, run away form it all. In this frozen moment Harry held the other boy's slim wrists in his hands, just to stop him from reaching for the bottle. He then realized that he was squeezing so hard that he could feel the rushing pulse against his fingers. The smaller boy's shoulders seemed frail and a bit slouched. His lips were slightly parted, as if wanting to protest or say something. Or even express his surprise that Harry had rushed for him.
"Let me drink myself to death… I am not you, I can't live like this, Harry," the first name maybe just slipped, or he tried to suck up to the Gryffindor and was naïve enough to believe that there was even the slightest possibility that Harry would allow that.
"Who is now becoming suicidal?" Harry tried to smirk, although he really didn't find anything funny in this situation. His heart was pounding like after a hike around the world; it had jumped into his throat, smothering him and the proximity of Draco was driving him crazy, but there was no way in hell he would back off now.
"Well," Malfoy squeezed a nervous laugh out of himself. He licked his lips and Harry stayed mesmerized at the delicious motion and didn't even notice how his grip slackened. "Well, I would say you're walking a fine line at that, too."
"How's that?"
"Firstly, that is your nature to act as if you have nothing to loose," Draco looked in the other boy's frighteningly bright green eyes, his own usually silver irises now being close to completely black, intense and making the hairs at the back of Harry's neck stand up. "Secondly, by being this close to me-"
Draco swiftly managed to free his hands from the other's grasp and grabbing Harry's face to pull him in a fierce kiss.
From the shock of it, Harry lost balance and fell to the floor with Draco on top, straddling him. He answered the possessive kiss, fighting the urge to bite the sweet whisky-tasting lips that were on his own.
The way both boys had fought in the past with each other, the power of the animosity between them and urge to make each other shatter had now narrowed and concentrated on the feel of their lips, teeth and tongues, the pins and needles feeling when they touched each other, shock of arousal running through their bodies leaving the boys flushed and trembling.
Draco's slim fingers had tangled in Harry's thick black locks, pulling and tugging with raw force as the smaller boy dragged the other back in a sitting position by his hair and tilted the head to the side or back so he could bite and nip on Harry's throat or neck.
Harry had nimbly managed to unbutton Draco's pajama top, pulling it from the boy's shoulders, eager to feel more of the soft, silky skin under his palms. Every time Draco had reached a more sensitive spot and done something to it that felt particularly good, his nails would unwarily dig into the flesh or scratch it.
Either struggled for power and domination over each other, with their brutal and forceful kissing and groping that would leave marks for at least a few days to come.
Both of them were panting when they paused, leaning their foreheads together, their bodies longing for a rest, but still craving for more until there could be no possible continuation.
Harry opened his eyes to see a flushed Draco before him, his long silver lashes trembling, and lips bruised red. He was surprised to find that the other boy was not skinny or scrawny as it used to appear while he was clothed. He had a fantastic, lean and slender, but still a strong and firmly muscled body. His skin was milky all over, and where it stretched over Draco's shapely shoulders or the accented line of his spine, its pronounced cartilages, it glistened in the light the same way silk does.
Harry leaned down to kiss the collarbone; he licked his throat, nibbling the Adam's apple so that Draco's breathing hitched for a moment. The boy's head dropped back, as if giving better access or just because of the satisfaction.
The rhythm had now changed; it was no longer fast and needy. Their touches now lingered for a moment longer than previously, they were more tempting, in their confidence and the explicitness of their wants.
In an instant, Harry had gathered Draco in his arms, the task being easy, given that he was slightly bigger than the other boy and pulled them up from the cold flagstones and put the Slytherin in one of the beds lying down on top of him, pressing their bodies together. He gasped after a slight movement as their erections pressed together through the thin fabric of the infirmary pajamas. Draco tore Harry's shirt off and devoured his lips, tongue lusting after more of everything. Harry pressed once again into the boy underneath him, thus managing to pull a long and sensual moan from Draco who wrapped his legs around him tightly; as if he wanted to never let go. But then he slyly pulled Harry's trousers off with his feet while toying with the other's nipples.
Harry sucked in a sharp breath as the cool air of the infirmary came into contact with his erection, but moments later it was surrounded by the warm feel of Draco's hands.
He tugged his own hands under the constricting waistband of the blonde's pajama bottoms and took up caressing the cock with light hand movements. Draco hissed and pressed himself more firmly in Harry's hand: "You're a bloody tease…"
Harry smirked against Draco's lips: "Otherwise it's not fun." He pulled off the trousers finally and massaged the tip of Draco's cock with his thumb.
"Harry…" the other boy moaned and hid his head in the curve between Harry's shoulder and neck.
"You feel good…" the Gryffindor just reveled in the smell of Draco's hair and skin, took delight in touching him and feeling the delicious tremors that ran through the other's body as he pressed closer.
"Not as good as you," Draco once again claimed Harry's lips by his own and with a collective groan they came, holding to each other through the aftermath, taking pleasure in the feel of each other.
--
Draco had had this small seed of anticipation that it could never end so good as it had. All through the night he had been afraid, even expected Harry to break it all off. Every sharp notion had sent a shiver through him because it felt as if the other boy was just sleepwalking, not really registering what they were doing and he feared to wake him up. He had been afraid to say something, as if that could remind Harry whom exactly he was snogging.
All through the uneasy waking up in the middle of the night, then the realization that if Voldemort tries just a little bit harder, they will both be dead, even through the drunken dizziness and the fever of touches and kisses Draco had repeated to himself like a mantra that he will and he wants to take this as far as it goes and that he will not regret anything. As far as it goes, till there are no more possibilities.
It seemed that by the time they fell asleep all the alcohol was out of their systems. The whisky had only given them courage, so to say, to do something, but looking back, the motives were their own, not the liquor speaking.
And now, as he woke up in what seemed almost a cold bed, with no Harry in it, a sudden pain gripped his gut.
"Shit…" he mumbled sleepily, cursing the bloody righteous Gryffindor.
As he sat up and halfway swung his legs over the edge of the bed his feet collapsed with something warm and firm. He peered over and on the tiled floor, tangled in the bed sheets, naked and god-like was sleeping one Harry Potter.
He started to move and twitch while unconsciously struggling to remain asleep a bit longer; apparently Draco had hit him with his feet too hard and woken the other boy up.
"Mmmmorning," he yawned and cracked his eyes open and when he began stretching, he noticed that firstly, he was naked; secondly he was on the floor. "I was going to ask you, why the hell you're staring at me like that, but now I just want to ask you, what am I doing on the floor?"
Draco snorted: "How should I know? I was sleeping. These beds are not made for two people, after all."
"Well, maybe you kicked me out," Harry sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "God, my back hurts… And it's cold!"
Draco gazed as Harry tried to struggle free of the sheet that was twined around him like a snake. He had an amazing view from where he was sitting on the bed.
His looking was a little more than just blatant, but Draco realized that only when Harry looked back at him, now all wrapped in the poor abused sheet, and glared: "Peeping, Malfoy?"
"No, would never imagine to something so shameless!" Draco grinned wickedly at Harry and tried pull his own sheet around him closer because the Gryffindor was trying to steal a few glances at him as pay-back.
At that moment the door of the infirmary opened and Madame Pomfrey came in. She looked at them both happily: "Oh, you're awake!"
Both boys looked at her with innocent expressions on their faces, only slightly blushing. She came closer and raised a suspicious eyebrow at the state of both beds, their lack of clothes and the half full bottle of whisky.
"He fell out of the bed, isn't that funny?" the Slytherin smiled sweetly at the nurse.
"Yeah, and it was SO HOT during the night, you should do something about the heeting, Madame," Harry tried to remain serious and rose to get into his bed.
The nurse looked at them both again and then at the clothes that were scattered all over place like some troll army had attacked them both during the night. She just took the bottle and inspected it.
"We found that under a bed," Draco suggested helpfully, nodding his head as if to suffice his point.
"Well, alright, get dressed and I will be back for an inspection. And the Headmaster wanted me to tell you that he will be expecting the both of you in his office after lunch," with that she turned around and exited the infirmary.
Draco and Harry smiled conspiratorially at each other. Then the Slytherin looked around and mustered: "She stole my whisky!"
--
He didn't understand how Harry could seem to feel so comfortable in the Headmaster's office. When they had entered the room, Dumbledore was sleeping in his chair and as the phoenix had screeched at Draco whom he saw for the first time, the old man woke up. He looked horribly tired.
"Oh, Harry, mister Malfoy, please sit down," he didn't even stand up, seeming too tired and week to do that.
As Harry proceeded to explain what had happened, excluding the kissing and the last night in the infirmary, Draco felt as if he was sucked, without his consent, in the world of Harry Potter where the other boy often sat in this very office, retelling the occurrence of events, relying on his own reasoning faculty, trying to tell all the necessary details and what seemed of importance to him. Draco shivered at the thought that someday there wouldn't be any Harry to tell others what had happened and they would just have to guess, judging by the obvious facts they had access to.
After a long pause of silence, in which Dumbledore just leaned on his hands thinking: "It does seem unusual that a ghost attacked you in this castle, and you are really lucky your fellow students found you both so soon. It would seem more logical if, as you say it was just like a vampire's attack, there had been a real vampire."
"With all due respect, Professor, a real vampire would have never had the possibility to cross the wards surrounding this place. A ghost, on the other hand, doesn't get even noticed. Maybe Voldemort just wanted to put Harry in a compromising situation. If I were dead and couldn't testify in Harry's defense, he would be considered a murderer. Maybe not sent to Azkaban but it would wreck the trust put upon him by all means," Draco was irritated by the way Dumbledore seemed not to believe Harry. Maybe he really was a raving lunatic.
"I understand that you have this point of view, but how can you be sure that Voldemort was planning this?" Dumbledore leaned slightly on the table in Draco's direction. "It could have been any restless ghost that believed to be a vampire and could have obliviated you both."
"I saw a Voldemort dream again, Professor. It was about the ghost, her name is Miranda, returning to Voldemort. There were almost all the Death Eaters. And I know to say that the attack was really planned. Although it seems that the target wasn't me, but instead Draco. They were talking about him turning into a vampire. Miranda had failed, but it was pretty obvious anyway. It was Voldemort. And we need to make sure that the ghost or any other creatures don't get on Hogwarts grounds. They might try it again," Harry seemed almost angry with the Headmaster.
But the old man seemed to be ignorant of the truth: "Harry, it is impossible that any of Voldemort's spies could have gotten into Hogwarts. Not even mentioning that they could have gotten close to both of you. And I am most definite that your both memories have been charmed so that you would think that someone was in danger. I can assure you that Hogwarts is as safe as it has always been. There is no need to worry. Maybe it was some student's prank."
"But-" Harry and Draco both tried to argue but Dumbledore just fixed a steady and hard stare at them.
"You both are excused. Have a good day."
--
"FUCK!!!" Harry yelled at all his might once they got out of the castle. He looked ready to punch and kick to the ground everyone that just didn't look at him the right way.
"You were right. A raving lunatic indeed," Draco quietly murmured.
Harry looked at him: "He's off his rocker, just bloody lost his mind. If someone had told me that, I would have never believed Dumbledore could ever be so whacked."
"Whacked? That's putting it nicely. The man's acting as if he'd been up all night, gotten dressed in a tie-dried robe with nothing underneath, smoked a Chernobyl cannabis bush and after dancing around a bit with a hula-hoop bent over and let his hippy friends stick daisies up his ass!" Draco leaned against the tree under which Harry had sat down and settled into staring blankly into the lake. "I just can't still convince myself that I witnessed it. The guy behaved as there was nothing wrong with this world; as if there was no Voldemort running around zapping with Unforgivable Curses everyone who just isn't his type. He simply refused didn't believe you. You! The Golden Fighter of truth and safety of every person who was dropped on the floor at birth! I mean, they're at your feet all the time. You could play king of the world if you felt inclined to."
Harry looked up at Draco from where he sat, gazing at the other boy with a worried look as he tried to get rid of every white molecule from his black turtleneck sweater: "Um, Draco?"
"Yeah, what?" the blonde looked at him and Harry felt his breath taken away seeing his eyes that in the light of day looked a color of quicksilver. His hair as it was now at an untamable point of length fell into his eyes and from time to time was swaying in the slight breeze.
"Do you appear to be concerned by all of this because you really are concerned or just because it applies to your safety, too?"
"Because I was there! Because I know what happened and how it is. Because I know the truth and Dumbledore is playing an ignorant prick. Because I know that it concerns not only my safety but your also." He squatted next to Harry and with a sincere but harshly serious look in his eyes continued. "I have seen, experienced and grown up seeing and learning the technique and patterns of Voldemort's schemes and plots. He wants to get to us both with one shot. Look at the strategy of yesterday's attack, Harry, if he just wanted me turned in a vampire or dead the ghost would have used some stupid second-year to get to me, not you. He knew you are powerful and would fight the bitch."
--
When Harry entered the Gryffindor Tower he felt tired. The flashbacks of his conversation with Dumbledore, the night with the blond Slytherin and the previous day's attack on them both were restlessly haunting his mind. He slouched next to Hermione on the common room couch where she was quietly sitting reading a book that looked like it weighed a ton.
"Harry, how did it go with Dumbledore?" she turned her attention to the black haired boy.
Harry thanked the gods that during lunch he had been able to satisfy the interest of his housemates regarding his short stay in the infirmary not letting anything slip that shouldn't be public knowledge. And now when he was feeling dead tired he wouldn't have to go over all that again.
"Like digging around a bag full of shit to find out that it is just a bag of shit."
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at him; she had never liked using profanities to express one's state of mind. "And in English?"
"Useless and nervebreaking. Dumbledore didn't believe me. He said that we have been memory charmed and that there was no way that Voldemort could have gotten some ghost into the castle to attack Dr-Malfoy… And Malfoy thinks that it was meant to get to us both. He thinks Voldemort is trying to hit two birds with one stone, so to say."
Hermione shook her head: "But that's just too weird, why would You-Know-Who send someone to attack Lucius Malfoy's, one of his strongest Death Eaters, son?"
Harry looked at her with simple honesty in his eyes: "He ran away after returning from school this summer because he didn't want to become a Voldemort's butt licker. From what he says, his father has as well as disowned him. Lucius wouldn't have a problem with allowing a house elf disembowel him with a tea spoon. That's why when we went drinking that night he gave you his scout's parole- he lived in the Muggle world during all summer, Herm."
She just stared with eyes wide open: "Wow, I would have thought he had it in him. But I still can't understand why Dumbledore didn't believe you… Something must be wrong with him… Or maybe he just didn't want to admit that Hogwarts is not as safe as it used to be."
"Well, that's why I have decided to try and solve this problem on my own. I would like you to research a bit on vampire ghosts," she nodded her consent and closed the book ready to get into it already. Harry was rumbling through the pockets of his robe looking worried, but then he pulled out a small scrap of parchment. "And this one also, please. I don't know what it means, but I heard it in my dream, I'm not even sure that's how you write it, but try to find some things about it, please."
Hermione took the scrap and looked at the word there: "Wyvern?"
"Yeah, I think it would help a lot on the fact why Malfoy didn't change into a vampire. But now I just want to sleep like a dead dog, bye," Harry stood up, finally feeling a bit better having confided in somebody even if it was only partially.
"Okey Harry, I'll get down to the library right now, good night."