Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 10

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.--Elie Wiesel

It wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Dumbledore didn't seem at all surprised when the boys showed up in his office. In fact when they entered, he merely offered them tea as if their being there had been prearranged. They politely refused the tea, and merely sat in their chairs, looking down at their own feet waiting for McGonagall's arrival. They dared not look at each other, not wanting to make matters worse for themselves. McGonagall arrived and explained the situation, purposefully not going into too much detail, and Dumbledore shocked the two boys by saying that they were both of age, and therefore free to pursue any kind of relationship they desired, though he did concur with McGonagall that the halls of an educational institution were not the most appropriate place to pursue it.

McGonagall looked ready to interject, and Draco surmised by her surreptitious glance in his direction as she collected her breath that her issue was not so much with Harry grinding into another boy in an abandoned hall in a school nearly devoid of other students, but that it was he, Draco, who Harry had been grinding against. He let himself begin to bristle with indignation, ready to defend himself. He wanted to remind her that he was Draco, not Lucius. He really wanted to see the look on her face when he showed her the changed mark.

Dumbledore seemed to catch on to what was happening as well. Obviously sensing a need to diffuse the situation, and to appease McGonagall, Dumbledore agreed that the boys would serve detention with him the next day, saying that the books in his office needed some organizing. He then greatly surprised Harry, Draco and McGonagall by reminding them all that as it was a holiday, that there were a number of lovely things to do and see in Hogsmeade, handing the boys their basket back, and sending them on their way.

Not one to refuse an easy out, Draco graciously accepted the offered basket. Politely excused himself and Harry, grabbed Harry's hand, and made a hasty retreat. As he closed the door behind them, the two boys heard Dumbledore begin to say to McGonagall, "I believe there is something you should know..."

They spent the rest of the day in Hogsmeade, visiting various shops, and ending up in the Three Broomsticks, where they shared a few Butterbeers. Harry found it easy to talk to Draco, and was surprised that they got along so well. They speculated about what Dumbledore had told McGonagall, they talked about quidditch, they talked about their lives, growing up with resentful muggles and bigoted supremacist fathers. As they talked about their thoughts on every subject under the sun, Harry found himself enthralled by Draco's melodic way of speaking, dazzled by his sense of humor, and impressed by his level of thoughtfulness. He wasn't completely selfish, as Harry had originally assumed he would be. He was confident, and admittedly a bit conceited, but he also had an obvious sense of right and wrong, and a delightfully surprising sense of personal responsibility. Harry found his attraction to Draco growing with every word he uttered.

They were careful to keep things chaste, given their incredibly strong reactions toward each other earlier. Still, they could feel the hot tension when they accidently brushed, or in some cases, purposefully. Their searing eye contact seemed to fill the very air with static; their magnetic pull toward each other was nearly palpable, and drew a few raised eyebrows from other nearby patrons in the pub.

They came back to the castle for dinner, as their picnic supply had been exhausted. They sat on opposite sides of the great hall, making eyes at each other as they slowly made way through their plates of shepherd's pie. Whenever sneaking a glance at the head table, Draco would often notice McGonagall giving Harry or him speculative looks, as if trying to figure something out. At one point, when he grinned across the hall at Harry, causing Harry to grin like a maniac in return, McGonagall actually smiled at him, and he could swear that he saw an almost imperceptible nod before she returned to her own shepherd's pie.

Harry, on the other hand, didn't notice a thing in the room except Draco. He watched as Draco ate, thinking how perfect his hands were and how perfect his mouth. He watched as Draco smiled at him, filling him with warmth. He watched as Draco smirked at him, causing a totally different kind of warmth, and a tingle.

He watched as Draco's chest rose and fell with his calm, steady breathing, remembering how it did so quicker, but more deeply, as Harry had pressed him into that wall. He remembered the hard muscles he could feel through Draco's clothes, and the hardness he could feel through layers of fabric when Draco rocked into him.

He realized that he had better not stand up any time soon, lest he mentally scar the second year who sat only a few meters away from him at the Gryffindor table. He mused to himself that he should start to wear more denim, and less soft cotton trousers that, unfortunately, accentuated, rather than mask, predicaments like he currently found himself in. It would draw too many stairs if he wore his school robes during break.

As students and staff finished their meals and departed, Harry and Draco waited. They had planned on meeting up that evening before going back to their respective dorms. McGonagall walked by, telling Harry that he was to report to Dumbledore's office at seven o'clock sharp the next morning. He smiled at her answering, "Yes, professor," which earned him a smile and a pat on the back before she hurried off.

Draco caught his eye, and he and Harry rose at the same time, making their way to the doors into the entrance hall. As they both reached the doors, Snape caught up with them.

"Mr. Malfoy, a word please," he said, stopping Draco in his tracks. Harry stopped too, but Snape would have none of this. "Potter, kindly return to Gryffindor tower. This does not concern you."

Harry and Draco shared a look, and Draco reluctantly nodded. Harry thought about waiting in the entrance hall, but decided against this, considering the reaction he would likely get from Snape if he did so. Resolved to his fate of not again feeling Draco's lips on his that evening, Harry made his way up to Gryffindor tower, thinking of Draco the whole way.

Arriving in his dormitory, Harry mused on how glad he was to have the space to himself for once in his life. His room at the Dursley's was far from private, given that they felt the right to enter it at will, never knocking; and he loved the companionship of his fellow Gryffindor seventh years, but enjoyed the fact that he had this time alone, especially given his activities of late...

He had never really thought of himself as a sexual person. He honestly didn't think about it much, and he was pretty sure his 'self exploration' occurred less often than that of his dorm mates, especially Seamus, who often had to be reminded to cast a silencing charm, much to the chagrin of the other Seventh years.

That was never a problem for harry, that is, until his revelation of a few months ago. Since he realized that he was totally, utterly, and hopelessly attracted to men, he had been making up for lost time. All that past semester, he had found himself having to cast a silencing charm and give himself a quick wank at least once a day. He would think about various attractive people, Oliver Wood and Bill Weasley making common occurrences, but always by the end, his fantasies would be dominated by the faceless grey eyed man from his dreams. Harry undressed as he felt a swell of appreciation for his break from dorm mates for a time. He could dispense with his usual silencing charm.

As he reached for his pyjamas, a thought occurred to him. He had never been allowed a full range of movement when wanking, because his rushed wanks had always had to involve slipping a hand down into his pants. Casting a quick locking spell at the door, Harry instead removed his white cotton undershirt, so old it appeared more grey than white. He thought about how Draco's undergarments were probably pristine white, no-black, he smiled at himself, sliding his hand down his chest, and slipping his fingers into the waist band of his equally grey white cotton boxers. Pulling them slowly down his hips, his growing erection bobbed into sight. Letting them fall around his ankles, he stepped out of his pants, and quickly jumped under the covers, amused at his own embarrassment despite the empty room.

He lay now, probably for the first time in his life, naked in a bed. Letting his tinge of embarrassment fade, he pushed the covers down his body, kicking them to the end of the bed with his feet. He thought about the way Draco kissed him that day, brushing one finger slightly over his bottom lip, and marvelling at the sensitivity of a body part he had never even considered before. He thought again about the feel of Draco's lips, tongue and teeth against his throat, moving his hand down to the area, again amazed at the sensitivity, enjoying the soft, warm, tickling, tingle as he brushed his fingers along his jaw, and down the path of his jugular vein, and onto his shoulder. Wondering how many other parts of his body contained the capacity for sexual pleasure, he let his hands explore, finding the palms of his hands, his inner arms, and his chest all especially responsive to the right kind of touch. He experimented with soft fluttering touches, like the brush of butterfly wings, he tried firmer caresses. He sometimes dragged his nails across his flesh, trying out different amounts of pressure, from a soft scrape that was barely there, to a firm, slow dig of nails across his chest, all the while, imagining that they were Draco's hands, not his own, that made him feel this way.

The Draco in his mind often followed the firm strong touch of hand with the fluttering caress of lips or tongue. Moving down Harry's body, he touched, kissed, licked and bit his way down to the happy trail of soft, dark, hair on Harry's lower abdomen. Harry was hard and aching with need, but held off as Draco showed him his body's capacity for pleasure at a myriad of touches around his groin and thighs. Finally, Harry felt like a dam was about to burst, and he grabbed hold of himself. Draco's firm voice in his mind whispered for him to take it easy. He brushed ever so softly up one side and down the other of Harry's throbbing cock, first with finger, then with tongue, following suit up the underside and down the top. Harry's skin prickled with goose pimples, his overflowing need causing his arm and back muscles to actually shake. Finally, his fantasy Draco moved up his body, kissing him deeply as he began pumping slowly and firmly, making Harry pant, moan, grunt and finally call out Draco's name as a burst of ecstasy rocked his body so hard, he could swear he lost contact with the bed. His muscles twitching out the last of their pleasure, his fantasy Draco locked eyes with him, wrapping him in a warm comfortable embrace. On the edge of sleep, he looked into the eyes of the man from his dreams. Sleepily saying, "I'm glad it's you, Draco." He nuzzled deeper into the embrace, fully asleep.

-- -- -- -- --

Draco woke up at 5:00. Since he didn't need to be down to his detention until 7:00, he decided to take the time to relax before preparing for his day. He lay in bed, staring up at the green velvet canopy, thinking about Harry.

He had been really looking forward to some alone time with Harry the evening before. After Snape sent Harry away, he told Draco to report to Dumbledore's office at seven the next morning, and then broached the subject of Harry. "I do not think it...wise, for you to flaunt your..." he fumbled over a word for it before he begrudgingly spat out, "relationship, with Potter. It is no doubt that many will think you unworthy of their 'hero.'" He said it like it was a dirty word. "It will not make you popular among your house mates, either."

"I beg to differ, professor. What better match for a Malfoy than such a well known wizard? Any Slytherin would have to admit, we dislike the mundane, and Harry Potter is anything but. As for everyone else, well, I think being with Harry peeves all the right people. Is that all, Professor?"

Snape looked ready to say something back, but thought better of it. He gave a curt nod and turned away, robes billowing behind him as he made his way swiftly to the dungeons.

Had Draco known his meeting with Snape would be so short, he would have tried to signal for Harry to wait up for him. As it was, he made his way down to the dungeons alone. He lay awake for a while, not able to shut his mind down enough for sleep. He finally dozed near midnight.

He was right when he told Snape that Harry was anything but mundane. Neither of Draco's past boyfriends had excited Draco the way Harry did, and not just physically. Draco felt superior to his other boyfriends, which is no surprise, because he felt superior to just about everyone. They were below him, in talent, and in intelligence. He had to admit that at first he enjoyed surrounding himself with those lower than he, it made him feel that much bigger. For a few years Crabbe and Goyle were his best friends, merely because he found them easy to dominate, he chose his lovers in the same way. But after a while he would bore of them, and find himself wanting a challenge.

He couldn't think of a bigger challenge than Harry Potter. Not only was he probably the most powerful wizard alive right now, he was intelligent, witty, had a killer body, and a stubborn streak longer than the Nile. With his brilliant green eyes standing out against his creamy skin, a sexy mess of jet black on top (green and black had always been Draco's favourite colours), Harry was gorgeous. Of all the wizards Draco was ever likely to meet, he knew he could never find one worthier than Harry, and he found himself further awestruck by the fact that such a powerful wizard, with so many admirable qualities, could be so down to earth and self-abasing. Harry had a charming selflessness that Draco had to admit he found aggravating and irresistible at the same time, though he would never admit out loud to enjoying such an obvious Gryffindor quality.

Draco looked down at his arm properly for the first time since finding out the mark had changed. There, a snake and phoenix wove in and out of each other in a beautifully intricate web of Celtic knots. If he were to pick a tattoo, he would have picked one like this. He liked the snake as a proud symbol of his house at Hogwarts, but more than that, it intrigued him how snakes shed their skin when they get too big for their old one, a sign of growth and accomplishment. Similarly, he had always been drawn to phoenixes, reborn from the ashes of a harsh past. The way they entwined in a Celtic knot that had no discernable beginning or end, symbolized eternity. He traced the mark with his fingers, thinking of Harry. Had Harry changed the mark to look like this on purpose? Had Draco? Either way, he thought it was beautiful.

He got out of bed to look at himself in the mirror, admiring the way the new mark looked against his pale skin. He thought it gave him a sort of bad-ass appeal, wondering if Harry liked the bad-boy type. Finally he decided to get ready for the day, hoping that if he left early, he might get some time with Harry before their detention started. He chose, for the first time in months, a short sleeved button up shirt in black. He no longer felt the need to hide his arms, and in fact was eager to show off his new mark, but mostly, he liked how looking down at his arm reminded him of Harry.

As he brushed his teeth he surprised himself by thinking of Harry in terms of forever, something he never thought he would be interested in. He rinsed and spat, looking up at himself in the mirror in a bemused sort of way. "I can't believe you've fallen for Harry-bloody-Potter." The face in the mirror just grinned back at him.

Not knowing where the entrance to Gryffindor tower lay, Draco didn't know which way to go to increase his chances of running into Harry before their detention actually began. He opted to head straight to the corridor to the head's office, hoping that Harry would decide to come early too. The time ticked by on his watch, and Draco finally went up to the head's office, not wanting to be late.

The man greeted him warmly, which seemed odd for a detention, and offered him a seat while they waited for Harry. Dumbledore made small talk, asking about Draco's studies, and asking about Harry. For once, Draco didn't know what to say, here merely smiled down at his hands in an almost embarrassed way.

It was ten after seven before Harry showed up. He slammed through the door, slightly flushed and out of breath. "Sorry, Professor, I...er," he looked over toward Draco, blushing in an embarrassed way as he finished, "overslept."

"Oh, that's quite fine, Harry. Well, shall we begin?"

He had them take books off of the shelf that had been read and then put back haphazardly, and put them back in an organized way, based on subject and who wrote them. It surprised Harry and Draco that he allowed them to use magic, and that he even helped them. Draco found this odd, seeing as how Dumbledore could have done it twice as fast by himself, because half the time was filled with Harry or Draco asking things like whether Transfigurational Potions would go under Transfiguration or Potions, or whether Memoirs of a Werewolf in Love would go under Magical Creatures or Biographies.

They finished after only an hour, and Dumbledore asked if they would like to join him for a spot of tea. Thinking it rude to deny after having been given such and easy sentence, the boys agreed. They sat with Dumbledore as he conjured tea and scones, which both boys dove into, as they had both skipped breakfast. He asked about school and how they were enjoying their break, and they answered as they sipped their tea. All the while, Draco waited for the other shoe to drop. Where this was going, Draco had no idea.

Finally, Dumbledore got around to what he seemed to be working his way toward this whole time. "I've been thinking about the changing of your mark, Draco. It is really quite remarkable that you two were able to break such a dark spell, one that has been known, up until now, to be unbreakable."

"How do you know WE broke it, sir?"

"Of that, Harry, I have no doubt. Only powerful magic could have broken through such powerful dark magic, and you two were the only ones present, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir, we were. But neither of us did magic."

"I was hardly coherent at the time..."

"And I didn't even have my wand on me. I just..."Harry cut himself short, fighting down a blush.

"What did happen out there?" Draco focused his gaze at Harry, needing to know.

"Well, er...what do you remember?"

"You saw the Mark and ran, I tried to stop you, then it was just pain, and then...nothing."

"Well, I heard you scream, and came back."

"You came back?!??!? You willingly approached someone you knew to have the Dark Mark unarmed? It could have been a trap!!" Draco's urgent tone confused Harry.

"Yes, but it wasn't, so what's the problem?"

"Are all Gryffindors so bloody trusting? Sorry, professor." He gave Dumbledore a sheepish grin, merely getting a smile and nod in return. "You can't go out altruistically rushing to save everybody who needs help, Potter, you have to look after your own skin sometimes!"

Draco referring to him by his surname got his attention more that anything else he had said. "I...I wouldn't n-normally do that, not alone and unarmed, at least. But I knew you wouldn't hurt me." He surprised himself with that admission, not even knowing it was true until he heard himself say it.

"How could you know that?"

"I...I don...I don't know, but it's true."

Dumbledore seemed to find this bit interesting, if his brief raise of eyebrows was any indication.

"Okay, so after you came back..."

Harry's blush returned full force this time, "Er, well...I...I touched the Mark. That's when you really lost it. After you passed out I...I...I justheldyouinmyarms."

"What?" Draco asked, fighting down a blush of his own now.

"I said-"

"No, I heard you...but why?"

"I don't know..."

"But neither of you did magic?"

"No, I mean, if I had thought it possible..."

"I wanted it gone in the worst way..."

The boys looked at each other. Harry offered, "Perhaps it was a delayed effect, of all your attempts."

"I do not believe this possible. A spell that could break through magic as thick and dark as the Mark requires focus. Neither of you used a wand?"

"No..."

"I didn't have mine on me either, didn't want to snap it in a rough game of quidditch."

For the first time in Harry's memory, Dumbledore looked at a loss for words.

End Chapter Ten