Unthinkable Thoughts

CHAPTER TWO

~

AFTERNOON OF A FAUN

He woke suddenly.

What had woken him, he had no idea. But it was like a herd of hippogriffs had just trampled over his body, rousing him from an extraordinary dream. He stared around in the blackness, unable to see anything out of the ordinary, or indeed anything at all, but even so his heart was racing and he was rather out of breath. It was just before 6:30am.

Draco lay back and allowed his pulse to return to normal. Blimey, he thought, that must have been some dream, and he tried hard to remember what he had been dreaming about. It must have been a nightmare, he concluded, to have woken so suddenly. But something nagging in his head told him it hadn't been a nightmare. Nightmares he was used to: the perpetual threatening presence of his father and his father's expectations and demands reached him even in his sleep; but this had felt different. It had felt exciting. It had felt exhilarating. It had felt - what was the word? - illicit.

His fellow Slytherins were still asleep, and Draco could hear at least two of them snoring. Almost certainly Crabbe and Goyle, he thought. God, how he resented the presence of this pair of brainless thugs. It was one thing for one's father to choose his son's books and robes for him, but to choose his 'friends' too? And some friends Crabbe and Goyle were. Draco couldn't recall a single conversation with either of them that he had found enjoyable or rewarding in any way. Granted, they seemed to show him a great deal of loyalty, but Draco suspected that that was because their fathers desired the friendship too. And however long paternal pressure kept this trio together as an efficient and nasty bullying unit, Draco knew that he would never truly like them. Still, at the moment, they were all he had.

He was wide-awake now, silent, thinking in the darkness. The lessons of the day ahead presented no real problems, as usual. History of Magic (yawn), Defence Against the Dark Arts (sometimes interesting), and then Care of Magical Creatures after lunch with that giant oaf Hagrid. He owed McGonagall an essay on Transfiguration that he had spent a lot of time on (mainly in secret away from Crabbe and Goyle) and with which he was secretly quite pleased, but he doubted that it would be fully appreciated by her as she constantly seemed to favour her Gryffindor students and was always telling the Slytherins that Hermione Granger was far and away the best at Transfiguration in the year, maybe even in the school.

Bloody Granger. Would he ever beat her at anything? His father's taunts about her rushed through his head: Only second in the year, Draco? And who came top? Oh yes, Granger, a Mudblood. You ought to be thoroughly disgusted with yourself. Secretly, and he could never admit this to a single other Slytherin, Draco rather admired Hermione. Or perhaps it was envy. Her knowledge of magic was absolutely first class. And he couldn't blame McGonagall for taking a certain amount of pride in Hermione's achievements; after all, Snape's unfair favouritism of his own Slytherins was so blatant that it was beyond funny. And there was something else about Hermione that Draco envied: she had friends. Real ones. Not like Crabbe and Goyle who followed him around with sickening devotion just because they fundamentally needed someone to follow. If being a pureblood, who at his father's insistence could only be friends with other purebloods, meant that he had to have friends like Crabbe and Goyle, then he didn't know if he was interested. But he could never tell his father that.

He sighed deeply and rolled over. It was raining quite heavily; from his bed in his dungeon dormitory, he could hear the water splashing around in the gutters and drainpipes above his head. Maybe it was the rain that had woken him. Oh get real Malfoy, he told himself. It hadn't been the rain. It had been something else, some strong feeling or emotion left over from a powerful dream. But what had I been dreaming about? What had triggered the dream? Very gradually, sounds began to filter through the building down to the dormitory, and Draco could hear Slytherin House slowly stirring itself for the day. He decided he would join them, and got up suddenly. He gathered his stuff together and went off to the boys' bathroom, hoping that a long hot shower would rid his body of the strange, unsettling sweatiness of the dream.

Some time later his regular bunch of Slytherin cronies all assembled in the common room and set off for the Great Hall for breakfast. Here we go again, thought Draco. He turned on the sickly charm and set the sneer on his face as he did at this time every day. Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Millicent, Blaise and the others all simpered round him as they ascended the stairs. Slytherins rule! he thought. Purebloods forever! He snorted to himself. As they reached their table Draco was aware of a large amount of noise from the other side of the hall where the Gryffindors sat. He looked over and saw Harry, Ron and Hermione with their stupidly happy gang all laughing and arguing energetically. Draco felt a twinge of sadness as, by comparison, he suddenly resented the bitchy backstabbing that was about to begin at his own table, and as he looked over he caught Harry's eye for a fraction of a second. Harry did not appear to react but Draco felt something weird flood through him, a feeling that reminded him strongly of the dream he had not long woken from.

What on earth did that mean?

* * *

After breakfast the Gryffindors left the Great Hall in small groups of twos and threes and wandered back to the tower with time to spare before lessons began for the day. This was usually the slot that Harry and Ron used to catch up on their homework (sometimes with Hermione looking on with pursed lips and a disapproving glare, muttering about how they were never going to learn anything properly leaving everything till the last minute). But since Harry had starting waking early there had been far less urgency about work deadlines and Harry and Ron were beginning to see for the first time what Hermione got up to in this part of the day. Sure, there was the library, Hermione's favourite place in the castle, and often Hermione was to be found there checking something in preparation for a practice OWL paper or looking up some detail pertaining to Elvish rights. But what they had no idea of was that, for fifteen minutes or so, Hermione and Ginny very often sat in a corner of the common room and chatted in low voices and with a general air of secrecy. There were a lot of surreptitious looks around the room and the occasional burst of giggling, and Ron in particular was extremely intrigued with what they were talking about. But on that morning, as on several previous mornings, the girls had refused to allow him and Harry to join their conversation and this had irritated Ron more than he cared to admit.

'What are they talking about?' moaned Ron to Harry. 'Why's it all so secret?'

'I've no idea,' said Harry. 'But it all looks horribly girly. They're probably discussing bras or cosmetics or something.'

'Harry, do you really think that Hermione would spend her time talking about make-up when she could be doing extra Arithmancy? It's got to be something bigger than that. When has she ever been a girly type of girl before?'

'Well, last year at the Yule ball for a start. When I distinctly remember you, my friend, noticing how she looked, and being rather jealous that she was with Krum.'

'I was not jealous. Blimey Harry, you don't half have a selective memory. I expect you've also blanked out the facts that you were appallingly rude to Parvati and a crap dancer.'

'Me a crap dancer? Me rude to my date? Ron, you appear to be Hogwarts champion at recalling things inaccurately. You were shockingly rude to Padma, and anyway we both spent much of the evening hiding in the rose garden if I remember clearly. Which I do. And I also recall that you were achingly jealous that Herm went to the ball with Krum, and don't deny it.'

'Well, OK, a little bit maybe. She did look really good that night. But whatever, that doesn't give her the right to sit round having secret girly chats - with my sister of all people! - and cut us out of it like we don't even exist.'

'Cut you out of it Ron. Not me. I want no part of it anyway. And besides, you and I need to have a conversation of our own, oh so-called best friend of mine.' Harry smirked sideways at Ron.

'What about?' said Ron curiously. 'Is this what you mentioned this morning at about 4:45 or whenever it was that your shouting woke me up?'

'We were not shouting and it was quarter to seven' laughed Harry, 'as you well know! Anyway, yes it is about that. I've been totally embarrassed in front of the others this morning and I'm afraid I'm laying all that humiliation at your door, Ron.'

'Wha--'

'I thought you were my ally in all matters magical,' persisted Harry, still smirking.

'You know I am. What are you tal--'

'Then why have you never told me what wands are for?'

Ron was totally baffled. But there was no time for the conversation to carry on as at that moment the bell rang for the start of lessons and within about two seconds Hermione was standing next to them hurrying them along to Charms. The school day began.

Charms was interesting but fiddly, as usual. As usual Hermione was brilliant: there did not seem to be a charm that she had not heard of and practised on her own before it came up in the lesson. As usual Ron was quite good but not bothered about how well he did, and as usual Harry was also reasonably good and in awe of Hermione's ability to do just about anything asked of her in any subject. As usual, Neville was awful, and while practising a gyrating charm he managed to set much of the furniture spinning instead of his cushion. As usual Dean and Seamus found this funny and hilarity ensued. Harry laughed and found himself thinking once more, I must take fewer things for granted. These times will not last forever.

The heavy rain of the morning had stopped falling by break, and by lunch it was really quite warm and sunny. Professor McGonagall walked down the Gryffindor table reminding all the fifth years that she wanted their latest Transfiguration essays in her office before they went off to Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon. Harry looked up from his chicken-and-ham pie (his favourite) and looked at her as she was saying to Ron, 'I've got a free afternoon so I would like to read them all before our lesson tomorrow. You have done it haven't you, Weasley?'

'Of course, Professor! Ages ago,' protested Ron in mock innocence.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all sniggered to themselves, all aware that had it not been for Crookshanks and for Harry's early waking, then there would have been no way that McGonagall would have had a full set of essays that afternoon. McGonagall sensed there was some joke between them and smiled to herself. She couldn't actually tell them of course, but she was rather fond of all three of them.

Harry watched as she went down the Slytherin table giving the same instruction, and he noticed the half smile on her face. And then suddenly the smile was gone, and Harry saw that it was undoubtedly because she was speaking to Draco Malfoy. He seemed to be giving her some backchat that was being hugely appreciated by his Slytherin cronies. Shut up Malfoy, thought Harry, don't give her a hard time. As Harry was thinking this he looked straight at Draco, trying to drill that thought into Draco's head across the hall. At that very moment Draco looked up and his eyes met Harry's, and Harry felt the charge of dark emotion that ran through his body whenever he looked at Draco. It was becoming so familiar that Harry had now christened this feeling the Malfoy Shiver but he had kept this to himself as he was deeply troubled by his own capacity for hatred where Malfoy was concerned.

God, how I despise you, thought Harry. Draco's eyes did not break contact with Harry's. He looked puzzled, then his usual cynical sneer returned to his face as he mouthed the words fuck off, Potter for Harry's own private benefit. Harry stared at Draco for some seconds afterwards, trying to inflict great pain into him just with the intensity of his glare. But Draco had looked away and was laughing with the Slytherins, and just as Harry was thinking that he had definitely won that particular staring competition, he was brought sharply back to earth on hearing Seamus say, 'So who's going got be essay monitor then? No point all of us trooping up to McGonagall's office is there?'

'I reckon it should be whoever's made the biggest pig of themselves at lunch,' said Ron, pointing at Harry, and the others all cheered.

'Harry it is then, no competition,' declared Dean, 'seeing as it's chicken-and-ham pie today!'

Scrolls began to fly at him from around the table.

'Not fair!' wailed Harry, laughing despite himself.

Shortly afterwards Harry found himself approaching McGonagall's fourth floor office trying to carry his book bag, wand and an armful of scrolls when he suddenly stopped because he heard voices coming from inside the room. Good God, thought Harry, Malfoy is talking to McGonagall! Why? What about?

He stood silently and listened for a little while. Harry could scarcely believe his ears. Malfoy was talking to her about Transfiguration. Since when had he become a keen, hard-working student? Harry knew that Draco was clever, everyone knew it: he would be top of the year if it weren't for Hermione's outstanding ability. But Harry had never thought of Draco as actually wanting to do well before. He had thought, if he had ever thought about it at all, that Draco was one of those amazingly clever guys that got good marks despite doing no work and showing no interest whatsoever in the academic. But here was evidence to the contrary. Perhaps he was secretly working very hard and hid it from his fellow students, most especially his fellow Slytherins. That would be interesting, especially if news of this new Malfoy were somehow to leak back to Slytherin House. Oh but anyway, who cared?

'Afternoon, Professor!' chirped Harry as he entered her office. 'One complete set of top-quality Gryffindor essays for your enjoyment!' he announced as he let them roll all over her desk. Then he pretended to notice Draco for the first time and let his lip sneer slightly, as Draco himself was at that very moment doing.

'Are you always so rude and ill-mannered, Potter?' snarled Draco. 'I was talking to Professor McGonagall, in case you hadn't noticed.'

'Sorry Malfoy, no, I hadn't noticed. Funny. Usually your dungeon stench is detectable from some distance. Nothing some time in a nice light airy tower wouldn't cure of course, but there's little chance of that I suspect. Anyway, I can see you're busy acting the dedicated student, so I'll be off. Not sure my stomach could take much more of that to be honest. Afternoon, Professor!'

He turned away, enjoying that he had managed to get one over on Malfoy, and in front of a member of staff as well. In fact, he was sure he had seen McGonagall try to suppress another half smile. Ha! Some days were just worth living. I'm certainly not going to take that moment for granted, thought Harry, smiling to himself as he went off back down the corridor, replaying the incident in his head.

Because of the essay delivery, he arrived several minutes after the others at Care of Magical Creatures, but he could see that there was a great deal of excitement around the paddock outside Hagrid's hut. It was now rather hot, the rain of the early morning now completely forgotten; one of those early autumn days when it seems like summer is still in full force. Harry screwed up his eyes against the sun and looked round for somewhere to drape his cloak for the next hour as Hagrid bellowed in his usual enthusiastic manner.

'Fauns!' cried Hagrid, obviously excited. 'Yeh'll need to be in pairs, and yeh're gonna get the chance to speak to real-life fauns this lesson!'

Harry joined the other Gryffindors, and found that Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean were standing slightly away from the rest of the group, highly amused about something. Harry knew instinctively that Neville, Seamus and Dean were bringing Ron up to speed on the issue of Harry's not knowing how to 'use' a wand. Harry again smiled and moved over to join them, and to laugh at himself a bit with the others. But Hermione touched him on the arm.

'Don't go over there Harry,' she sort of half-begged, 'you'll only encourage them. God knows what they're talking about, but I suspect strongly it's either misbehaviour or smut, or maybe both judging by the sniggering. Anyway, I need a partner and so do you.'

Harry stopped next to Hermione; he could always catch up with Ron later. Meanwhile Hagrid was still speaking and Harry and Hermione pretended to be really interested so he wouldn't get upset.

'Course,' he continued, 'fauns in't really creatures like flobberworms an' screwts an' stuff, oh no.'

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Draco join the group, straight from his cosy academic chat with Professor McGonagall, and pair himself with Pansy. Harry looked away and back to Hagrid again.

'They're intelligent, intense beings, bit like centaurs in that respect. Only a bit, mind. Course, their interests are a bit, er, earthy, but steer clear o' racy talk an' it'll all be alright,' cried Hagrid, and he seemed genuinely quite animated.

Harry found himself wondering exactly what Hagrid meant by 'racy' conversation and looked to Hermione for guidance, but she looked blank as well, and anyway Hagrid was already talking again.

Over Hagrid's shoulder Harry noticed that Ron was grinning like an idiot and trying to catch Harry's eye. Harry knew exactly what Ron was trying to signal to him. Harry tried hard to hide his own half-embarrassed, half-amused grin, but he couldn't stop himself sniggering out loud when he saw Ron make a series of obscene but friendly gestures privately to Harry which implied that a) Ron had now heard the whole story from Neville, Dean and Seamus, b) that Ron found it hilarious, and c) that Ron and Harry would have to have 'a significant talk' later on. Harry's reaction was a sudden and intense feeling of deep comradeship with Ron. He knew Ron wouldn't dream of laughing at him over this, he knew that the amusement Ron was experiencing was with Harry rather than at his expense, and he also knew that Ron cared enough about Harry to make a potentially cripplingly embarrassing conversation seem funny and perfectly natural.

Harry smiled his agreement with all of Ron's frantic signalling, and then looked away. He thought suddenly of the phantom lover that 'visited' him each morning. Please, please, let it not be Ron, Harry hoped with all his heart. Hermione realised that Harry's mind was elsewhere, and prodded him in the ribs to nudge his attention back to Hagrid.

'Don't take no nonsense, do fauns,' he was saying. 'And highly excitable they are, so don't go speakin' in high spirits or Gawd knows what'll happen. But seeing as how a whole herd just arrived in the Hogwarts grounds this morning, I thought it would be a shame for yeh not to meet them. Now jus' get with your partner and pick a faun and go and chat to 'em. That's it, nothing to it. Be polite and complimentary and yeh'll get on like a house on fire!'

The various pairs were moving towards the group of fauns who were standing idly around preening themselves on the far side of the paddock, but Harry heard Hagrid call him and Hermione back.

'Sorry you two, can't let you go in like that,' he beamed.

'What do you mean?' asked Hermione.

'Gotta be single-sex pairs with fauns,' Hagrid chuckled conspiratorially. 'All sorts could happen otherwise. Hermione, you'd better go wi' Pansy. And Harry, you go wi' Draco.'

Hagrid shot Harry a look of sorry, mate as he said this, but Harry was nonetheless pretty appalled at the prospect of having to spend the next hour chatting to Draco Malfoy and a faun.

Draco himself was hardly delighted with the idea either.

'That giant oaf of yours has really surpassed himself this time,' he sneered at Harry, as they reluctantly made their way over to the far side of the paddock where a single faun remained. 'Marvellous. What a complete waste of lesson time. My father will be interested to hear of this latest venture of that cretin. And as if conversation with such a ridiculous creature itself wasn't bad enough, I'm now lumbered with you too. Still, that's two ridiculous creatures, I suppose. You might get on rather well with a faun, Potter.'

Harry's blood coursed in resentment through his body, the Malfoy Shiver in full angry flow.

'Your father is hardly in a position to go to the Ministry to complain about anything these days, Malfoy, not now I've formally identified him as a Death Eater,' said Harry sharply. 'So excuse me if I don't react to your empty threats with quite as much awe-struck reverence as your detestable sycophantic Slytherins. I've no doubt Hagrid has his reasons, and perhaps it could be rather interesting to meet a faun. But I expect your mind is as closed as it always is, Malfoy.'

'Interesting to meet a faun?' choked Draco, looking genuinely highly amused that Harry might think this. 'Did I hear you right, Potter? Have you no idea what fauns do all day? And what their only topic of conversation is? It seems you really are as stupid as Professor Snape says.'

Harry had not even the first piece of knowledge about fauns, but he wasn't going to let Draco know that. He was just thinking up a suitable retort when he and Draco reached the far side of the paddock where the only faun left unengaged in conversation was leaning casually against the fence in the hot sun.

'Hello boys, good to meet you,' leered the faun. 'What're your names then?'

'Harry,' said Harry, trying to appear bright and enthusiastic.

'Draco,' said Draco, sullenly.

'Good-oh,' the faun grinned horribly. 'I'm Dixter. Now, down to business. What do you want to know? Now come on, don't be shy, there's no subject I won't consider giving advice on. As I am sure you are aware, fauns do have a certain amount of specialist expertise and we are always willing to share our experience with the Uninitiated.'

The faun's voice was slurred, and he had a general air of slovenliness about him as if he'd been in the Three Broomsticks for the best part of a week; but that was by no means the most remarkable thing about him. With the upper half of a man and the hind legs of a goat, Dixter would have been pretty odd to look at in any light. But the fact that at least 50% of him was human in form did not seem to be important enough to him to consider wearing clothes. Harry tried hard to maintain eye contact with Dixter because he was sure it would be highly inappropriate to look anywhere else. But the undeniable fact was that despite Dixter's astonishingly hairy chest and the pair of short horns poking out of his extremely untidy hair, it was impossible to miss that between Dixter's legs hung a stupendously large and monstrously furry set of faun genitalia. It was beyond indecent. Harry suddenly thought of Neville - who only that morning had practically owned up to having used an engorgement charm at least once - and Harry was filled with a weird urge to ask Dixter if he had done the same.

But as Harry sniggered at this thought, Dixter was saying, 'So, Draco, like the look of what you see, eh? I won't deny it's all rather impressive. The ladies do always seem to be most appreciative of course, but it's nice to get recognition and admiration from fellow players from time to time as well!'

Draco coloured crimson right up to the backs of his ears and Harry burst out laughing.

'Caught checking out a faun, eh, Malfoy? Good God, is there no limit to the depravity and perversity that you and your Slytherin cronies will lower yourselves to?'

Draco was absolutely incensed, so much so that he could not find any words at all.

'I, er...er, well...of course not!!!' he eventually blurted out, blushing even more furiously, but Dixter seemed to ignore him completely.

'Course, to be fair, Draco, most fauns are pretty well equipped down there, but I do seem to have done better than most, I have to say. What do you think, Draco?'

Harry was loving every second of Draco's discomfort.

'Yes, Malfoy, what do you think about it? I'm just dying to hear,' crowed Harry.

Draco seemed to choke back just enough of his fury to be able to find his voice.

'That is absolutely enough. I refuse to stand here and be insulted by a part-human whose only interests outside violent fornication are boasting about his prowess and lauding the size of his genitals...'

Dixter chuckled slightly and winked at Harry. But Draco, warming to his theme, was in full flow.

'God knows why Professor Dumbledore allowed you lot in here. I know what fauns are like! We had one get in amongst the livestock at Malfoy Manor last year. And it seems you lot don't bother with niceties like discriminating between animals and humans either, oh no. Cows, sheep, house elves, domestic staff - even my father's elderly black wolfhound - none was safe from that sodding randy goat! Have you no bloody shame, or even a shred of decency?'

Far from being affronted by this, Dixter seemed remarkably animated.

'Ah! Now you're talking, Draco! House elves, you say? Good Lord, I'd like to have seen that. Wonder who it was? Down at Malfoy Manor? Sounds exactly like the kind of stunt my cousin Ramrod would pull, but I know he was ravaging in Ireland for most of last year. Says it's by far the best place to go these days: lots of fragrant young maidens sitting around bemoaning their virginity. You should get over there, Draco, sounds like your type of place!'

Draco was practically spluttering. 'Well!...of all the...!' was about all he could manage.

Harry was laughing so much he could hardly stand, but then Dixter diverted his attention away from Draco.

'What about you then, Harry?' he inquired jovially. 'Got a girlfriend? Good goer, is she? Gives you what you want and so forth? No point carrying on with them if not. Just ditch them and find another one. No shortage you know--'

'Oh yes, Potter!' squealed Draco, now with all his vocal powers miraculously restored. 'Do tell us about your girlfriend. And who is it this week? Which hapless young ingénue has been ensnared by the famous scar, only to find there's a pathetic weakling behind it?'

Harry shot Draco a look of pure venom but unfortunately Draco was not able to see it, because, at that moment, obviously having decided to remain in conversation with Dixter for as long as Harry was being made uncomfortable, he was pulling his school jumper off to try and get a little cooler in the hot sunlight. Harry watched as the jumper rose up over Draco's head, taking the Slytherin t-shirt he was wearing underneath with it, in the process exposing a foot or so of Draco's lean, hard, flawless, creamy-white torso. At this image, the Malfoy Shiver made one of its most violent appearances yet and surged through Harry's body, but this time Harry found himself even more uncomfortable with it than usual. What was happening? Draco showing a little flesh had produced a whole-body shock in him? What on earth did that mean? Could he really hate someone that much?

Troubled and tense, and feeling himself flush, he did the first thing that occurred to him, which was to follow Draco's lead and remove his own jumper. At least his burning face would be hidden from Dixter and Draco for a few seconds. As Harry pulled his own jumper off, he felt his own Gryffindor t-shirt rise up in exactly the same way Draco's had done, and, astonishingly, he could feel Draco's eyes on his body as sharply as if Draco was poking him in the chest with a wand. Jumpers removed, the two boys glowered at each other.

'Well,' said Dixter. 'There's a turn-up for the books.'

'What are you talking about, you stupid goat-fuck?' enquired Draco.

'I mean, I've heard of it between humans as an interesting alternative, as a way of ringing the changes kind of thing, but actually as a first choice, as a preference? Odd. Yet, intriguingly, decidedly full of possibilities...'

'What do you mean?' asked Harry, trying to be more polite than Draco had been.

'But if that's the way it is, then, OK.'

Both boys looked at him as if he were barking mad.

'Anyway, down to business. It's obviously time for me to do my faun thing. I don't always enjoy it actually, but it's what fauns do of course - certainly it's what's expected of us; and it is something I do rather well, I have to admit. But I will say this: I certainly didn't sense that it would be necessary when we first started this cosy lads' chat. Must be losing my touch! Nevertheless, nice talking to you boys, but duty calls, and good luck with, well, you know...'

And at that he started to hop around most distressingly.

Harry and Draco looked at each other wondering what on earth Dixter was doing. Over the following thirty seconds his jumping got progressively more energetic, and then he started braying in a desperate, deafening manner. More disturbing was that Dixter's already madly overlarge tackle was stiffening into a ferocious looking erection. More alarming still was that a few seconds later when he was without doubt fully erect, thrusting his body around like he was actually rutting an invisible faunette and braying at the top of his voice, he actually made a lunge at Harry.

'Watch out!' yelled Draco, and immediately wondered why he'd shouted a warning. Helping Harry was an unusual experience, and he would have pondered this for longer had circumstances allowed.

Gone was the cheery 'open-minded' creature they had just been talking to. Instead Dixter looked like he was crazed with lust. Harry rolled out of the way and then Dixter made a swiping pass at Draco. Suddenly Harry was aware that they were both in extreme danger. If Dixter actually got hold of one of them, who knew what might happen. It didn't bear thinking about. Draco had fallen to the floor after Dixter's initial lunge, and Harry saw him step back as if about to jump onto Draco himself. Harry grabbed Draco's arm and hauled him out of Dixter's path in the nick of time. At that single touch, the immediate jolt of the Malfoy Shiver nearly floored him with its strength. Harry looked at Draco, somehow aware that he had sensed this shock too. But at that moment Harry became aware of lots of activity from all over the paddock, and the Shiver was temporarily forgotten.

'Get away from him!' Hagrid was yelling at them as he chased over towards them. 'Get away! Quick! They're dangerous when they get like this!'

Neither Harry nor Draco needed telling twice. Grabbing their jumpers they ran away from Dixter, passing Hagrid who was charging in the opposite direction. 'All of you get outside the paddock!' came Hagrid's hollered instruction as he raced over to Dixter.

The class stood and watched the bizarre scene. Most of the other fauns were beginning to show the same behaviour as Dixter.

'Oh my God!' yelled Seamus. 'It's going to be carnage! We need to get Hagrid out of there!'

But it was not carnage that ensued. It was instead, bluntly, an orgy. After a couple of minutes the whole herd of fauns were in what could only be described as a wild, cavorting, thrusting, rutting heap. Once Hagrid had shepherded them all together into a single group he casually strolled past the swirl of faun limbs, batting off a playful advance from an adventurous female faun, and approached the fence from where the Gryffindors and Slytherins were watching, amazed.

'Well, that's fauns for yeh!' he chuckled to the class. 'Only ever one thing on their minds. But ah've no idea what triggered it. Usually they're happy just to talk for hours, unless o' course...'

'Unless what?' asked Dean.

'Well,' Hagrid got rather embarrassed and shuffled his feet a little, 'unless one of 'em gets a better idea of course!'

The students all laughed, even the Slytherins, and that definitely appeared to be the end of another eventful Care of Magical Creatures class. As they were picking up their cloaks off the fence, Harry's hand brushed against Draco's. The electricity of the contact jolted both of them again, and was a blunt reminder of what had just happened. They looked at each other furiously, neither of them speaking.

Then, for half a second, the words thanks Malfoy seemed appropriate to Harry. Draco had, after all, shouted a vital warning. But the words never got spoken, because just as it looked like Draco might himself actually thank Harry for pulling him out of Dixter's way - Harry swore he could actually feel the words forming in Draco's head - Draco sneered nastily and said, 'Remind me next time Potter that having you as a partner is to be avoided at all costs. Frankly I would rather drink my own urine.'

He turned and walked away without looking back. Harry looked at Malfoy as he rejoined the Slytherins on their way back to the castle, unable to decipher his own complex feelings. Hermione watched thoughtfully.

The other Gryffindors assembled and were sorting through cloaks and jumpers. Reunited with Ron and the other boys, Harry was immediately high-spirited again.

'Harry, you cretin!' Ron spluttered as he came bounding over to Harry and Hermione. 'I just don't believe it! Is it really true? Except of course, I know you so well, I just know that of course it's true! It's just so you to be so, so...so cretinously cute, so stupidly, innocently under-informed, so, so Harry!'

Both Harry and Ron were laughing a great deal, even though Harry knew he was blushing. Ron's warmth was so wonderfully welcome after the chill of Draco's words.

'Ron, what on earth are you talking about?' asked Hermione, perplexed.

'Oh nothing, Herm,' he said, enjoying his chance to get back at her for not telling him what she and Ginny had been talking about, 'just boys' stuff. In fact, no offence Herm, but could you give Harry and I a few minutes? There's a couple of things we need to talk about.'

'None taken. Of course you can have your smutty little chat,' said Hermione graciously, with no trace of the slightest curiosity, which Ron found rather irritating. 'It's quite handy actually,' she continued, 'because there's something I want to check in the library.'

And with that she quickened her pace and was out of earshot within a few seconds.

'Now,' said Ron, clapping Harry on the back, 'it's time for a chat with your uncle Ron!'