The Thousand and One Dracos

"Glad to see you up and about again," said the man sitting in front of him.

Harry had never seen him before. At least he didn't think so. The man had some kind of shiny yellow fabric intricately twisted around his head and far more and whiter teeth than would have been possible in a human mouth.

"Where am I?" Harry said.

The room was definitely not the Great Hall at Hogwarts, even if it was just as large. But this one was decorated with flowing curtains in all imaginable colours. The floor was covered with huge pillows, in blue, gold and purple. Quite a large crowd were sitting or lying down on the pillows, most dressed in white flowing robes and strange headgear. Some were handling water pipes, others drinking from small golden cups.

"You're in the court of the Caliph of Farbakishan, and you're about to die," said a dwarf with a huge turban that seemed to be sprinkled with tiny stars. And from his ears, two enormous rubies were dangling.

"WHAT?" Harry screamed.

What devilish trap had he fallen into? Was this one of Voldemort's regular efforts to kill him? Wasn't Voldemort dead? Wasn't the war over?

"You've landed on his almighty highness' shores without permission. That means you have to die," said an old man wearing a blue Fez, and with a white dirty beard that reached down to his knees.

"The Caliph's Vizier is right. No strangers are allowed to come ashore here. If they do, we behead them," said the dwarf.

"Okay," said Harry, still confused about were he was, what he was doing here and how he had ended up in this nightmare. Then he realised what the man had actually said.

"WHAT? You can't kill me! What have I done to you? I'm sure I didn't mean to violate your laws. This is a terrible mistake!"

"You came here a fortnight ago, and tried to steal one of the Caliph's most valued treasures."

"I did not!"

"Oh, yes you did! You were halfway up the Moon Tower when you were captured."

"I was?"

"Indeed. It was a long fall, but the Caliph's excellent healers have tended to you, so now you're back in good health, all thanks to the mercy of our gracious Caliph!"

"Hear, hear," everyone in the room cheered, "long live the infinite wisdom of the Caliph!"

"Why did you heal me?" Harry said. "What was the point of that, if you're going to kill me anyway?"

"The Caliph's wisdom is boundless!" shouted someone Harry couldn't see.

"As are his supplies of herbal cures and potions!"

"All hail the Caliph!"

Harry got a little tired of the exclamations. And slightly dizzy from the thick smoke billowing from the numerous water pipes.

"You walked on sacred ground!"

"And climbed a sacred tower!"

"It's either beheading or becoming a eunuch!"

Harry fought the urge to cover his crotch with his hands.

"But we have given you a short respite. The Caliph is wise!"

"The Caliph is wonderful!" someone else shouted, "and so sexy!" That voice was quickly hushed.

"All hail the Caliph's mighty... brain!"

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"And in his infinite wisdom he has invited you to entertain him."

"Entertain... him?" Harry said. This was definitely not a good sign.

"Well, you know..."

"No, I don't! Entertain him, how?" Harry said.

"You tell him stories, and if he likes them, you'll live a little longer," said the man in the blue Fez. "That's the way it goes; don't you know anything?"

"Stories?" Harry said, "Why does he want me to tell him stories?"

"That's the usual way, stories first, beheading later," the man in the Fez said. "I am the Caliph's Vizier and I know those things."

"While the Caliph's healers treated you, you talked in your sleep and told them many things. He thought you seemed like a good story-teller."

"I did?"

"Enough talk. More action," a booming voice sounded behind Harry.

When he turned around he thought a green silk curtain suddenly dropped down behind his back.

But as the curtain moved he saw it was a giant, wearing enormous green silk trousers, with a huge scabbard attached to his waist and a little cheetah sitting on a padded patch on his shoulder. The cat was playing with numerous little bells that were attached to the giant's huge black beard. The giant grabbed Harry around the waist, walked out of the room, and left the cheering crowd behind.

He was carried into another room and carelessly thrown on the floor. Harry looked up, worried to see Voldemort standing there.

The room was nearly as large as the other one, except this was darker. In the middle of the room a little fountain played. Harry looked at the fountain and blushed. Definitely not something that would be displayed at the Ministry of Magic. The mere thought made Harry giggle. The oblong shape ended in a rounded tip where water squirted out into a small pond. After staring at it for a while Harry felt an urge to go to the bathroom.

But before Harry had a chance to contemplate that, the giant threw himself forward, forehead touching the floor, and knocked Harry along. The cheetah hissed, but held on to the giant by its claws.

"Here is the prisoner, almighty ruler," he said.

"Oh, good. Get up and get out." The giant scrambled to his feet and left, bowing deeply.

Harry looked up. The Caliph was dressed in black flowing robes. He was a tall, dark man, towering over Harry, who sat on the floor.

The Caliph just walked past him, over to one of the large windows, and looked out. He didn't say anything and Harry felt really uncomfortable as the minutes passed.

"So you're the trespasser," the Caliph finally said and pushed a ringlet of black hair from his face. "They say you will tell me stories of foreign lands and treasures."

"I don't know about that..." Harry said.

"I don't really want to hear them," the Caliph said, "all I want to know is what you know about the white pearl."

"I don't know anything about any pearls." Harry had an unpleasant flashback from his childhood. But he really didn't think that aunt Petunia's necklace was what the Caliph was talking about.

"Sure you do. My men heard you talk in your sleep about the white pearl of my Seraglio, the utmost and spectacularly imfamous exquisite treasure among my belongings."

Harry shook his head.

"Can't say I have."

"Don't lie, you scoundrel! They heard you say the name Draco several times."

"Draco?"

The Caliph glared at him.

"Yes. Draco. You were going to steal him away from me, weren't you? "

"Draco? Is he here?"

"Don't play stupid, boy. Why would you try to climb the Tower of the Moon, where I keep my treasure, if not to steal him?"

"Huh?"

"I have no patience with fools tonight! I'm throwing you into the dungeons! Maybe you will be more talkative after a night down there!" The Caliph clapped his hands twice, the double doors flew up and a troupe of gold-clad men marched in, all wearing hats with tall spikes and long curved swords.

"What..." Harry said, "what do you want to know?"

The Caliph turned around and faced him.

"Nothing," he said, "you will probably lie. Take him down into the dungeons."

The men surrounded Harry, grabbed him by the arms and led him down several stairs.

Finally they arrived at a dark and vast chamber where Harry was chained to the wall.

When they left, Harry tried to move his arms, and to his great surprise the handcuffs fell off him. They seemed to have forgotten to lock them.

Harry rubbed his wrists and looked around. He turned when a small bang sounded behind him. A familiar shape stepped out from a tiny puff of smoke, coughing heavily.

"Dobby?" Harry said.

"I am a Djinn," the figure said when it stopped coughing, "not a Dobby."

"You sure look like him." And he did, except Harry had never seen Dobby wearing balloon-shaped trousers and a turban.

"I might not be as impressive in stature as the other Djinns, but there's no reason to mock me, especially not as I am the one who will rescue you."

"Here are the keys to the Moon Tower. I want you to take away the one dwelling there and go back to where you came from." He handed Harry a large keychain.

"Why are you doing this?"

"The Caliph is not happy. The one dwelling in the tower will never make him happy. However the Caliph tries to please him, he does nothing but sulk and pout, all day long. No amount of love spells, potions and aphrodisiacs has any effect on him. It's believed that he's bound to someone else," the small figure looked at Harry, "and I think it's you."

Harry could feel a warm surge through his body.

"See?" the figure said, "I was right, wasn't I?"

"You might be," Harry said and blushed.

"You're living with him, aren't you?"

"Wait, how did you know that?" Harry said.

The figure just giggled, snapped its fingers and disappeared in another puff of smoke.

Harry walked up the stairs, and tried to remember where he had been. Fortunately he found a large hall with a mosaic that seemed to depict the Palace grounds. The Moon Tower was easy to find, and after a short while he looked at the entrance, where two big guards were snoring, on either side of a huge door. Harry walked up to them as silently as he could, and unlocked the door.

Inside was a long hallway with what seemed like hundreds of doors on each side. He carefully locked the entrance door from the inside. It wouldn't do to have the guards rushing in while he was searching for Draco.

But he was lucky. Draco was in the first room he unlocked. But he didn't seem as happy to see him as Harry had thought he would be. Harry's heart sank.

"Oh my brave rescuer, my hero," Draco drawled, looking quite bored. "What took you so long?"

Draco was wearing blue robes with small buttons from the neck down, golden shoes with very pointy toes that curled upwards, and what looked like a band of pearls weaved into his hair. And he had thick black lines painted around his eyes. Harry couldn't remember his lips being that red either.

"I was delayed," Harry said.

"Let's go," Draco said and walked out into the hallway.

"What's the matter with you?" Harry said, "Draco? Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Oh yes I am. But not quite the way you're thinking. Give me the keys," Draco said.

Harry gave him a wounded look and handed them over. Draco smiled, blew him a kiss and started to open the doors.

"What are you doing?"

"Distraction technique," Draco said, "don't you know how this is done?"

Apparently Harry didn't. People started to emerge from the rooms. And Draco disappeared with the keys in the crowd.

"Draco? What is this? Where are you?" Harry shouted.

People were milling around him. Everyone looked like Draco. Harry's head started to spin.

"The Caliph liked my appearance so much that he changed everyone in the seraglio into looking like me," one of them said.

"Oh God," Harry said.

"He didn't succeed that well," another Draco coming up behind him said, "I am one of a kind."

"Well, stop shouting or you'll wake up the whole palace," another of the Dracos said.

Sounds of steps and shouting could be heard outside the doors.

"Now you've done it," a Draco to his left said.

"Clumsy oaf," a Draco to his right said.

"Can someone stop that damned noise, how are we supposed to sleep in here," a third said, yawning.

"Don't worry handsome, you'll get to nap in a little while," the second one said.

"He's quite cute, can we keep him?" a fourth said, and winked at Harry.

"No you can't, he's mine."

The Draco who said he was unique grabbed Harry and kissed him. The other Dracos hooted and cheered.

"Do you doubt who's the real me now?" Draco, the one who was kissing him, said when he finally released a quite breathless and cross-eyed Harry.

Then the doors opened and the Caliph's guards ran in. There was a lot of shouting and screaming as all of the Dracos started to shout abuse and obscenities at the guards.

"Quite an inventive lot, don't you think?" Draco said. "The guards are quite used to it, of course. I've been here for a while."

"Shouldn't we help them?" Harry said.

"Always ready to play the hero, aren't you?" the real Draco said. "But that's not how it goes. Not this time."

"How what goes?" Harry said. But Draco didn't seem to hear.

"Come here," Draco whispered and grabbed him by the hand.

They ran through a narrow opening and up several flights of stairs to a room, filled with caskets. Draco opened one of them and took out an oblong object. He rolled it out. A carpet.

"Sit on it!" Draco ordered.

Harry did, and Draco sat down behind him. The carpet jerked and lifted from the floor, up towards the ceiling, where Draco opened a small window that led out to a narrow balcony.

"It's time to leave the Moon Tower," he said.

The shouts and sounds of fighting could now be heard in the room below them.

"If you knew how to escape, why didn't you do it before?" Harry said as they left the tower.

"I was waiting for you," Draco said, "you had to come and rescue me."

"I don't know why that doesn't sound right. Nothing about this adds up."

"Don't you worry about it. We're together now, that's all that matters, isn't it? "

"I'm not complaining," Harry said, "but as far as I know you're quite resourceful on your own."

Draco started to say something.

"No, don't tell, that's the way it goes, isn't it?" Harry said.

"Right on target, for once," Draco said and smiled.

The carpet took them far up into the night sky. Draco held his arms around him and Harry started to get drowsy. Suddenly the carpet jerked violently.

"Ooops, turbulence," Draco said.

Harry tried to grab him as the carpet turned around. As he fell, he got hold of his lapels. Wait now. Draco's blue robe had no lapels, just a million little buttons that Harry had thought about slowly unbuttoning since the moment he laid eyes on it.

Harry stared up into Draco's grey eyes. He was holding on to the lapels of a dinner jacket. And sitting in a theatre, with people clapping all around him.

"Potter," Draco said, "I knew you wouldn't appreciate the opera, but you fell asleep! You were snoring!"

"I'm sorry."

"I admit that The Abduction from the Seraglio really isn't one of Mozart's best. It's quite boring, in fact. But I didn't know you were that bored."

"Sorry I fell asleep," Harry said.

"Next month they will do the Rheingold by Wagner, maybe that will me more up your alley. I'm told they'll have a real giant on stage and mermaids too. I think it will be beautiful."

"You're very beautiful. Will you forgive me?"

"I'll forgive you this time. But you owe me Potter. And I expect you to pay up tonight."

"Okay," Harry said, "I'll probably regret this, but what do you want?"

"Oh, nothing excruciating," Draco shrugged and put his arm around Harry's shoulders. "I just expect you to eat a lot tonight. We're celebrating a French Christmas."

"And what exactly is that?"

"Champagne and oysters."

"That doesn't sound too painful," Harry grinned, "I think I can live with that."

"Oh Potter," Draco's grin was positively feral, "you'll beg for someone to rescue you before the night is over."

Harry felt a tingle of apprehension.

"If I beg, will you come?"

"I'll always come for you Harry, don't you know that?"

"I'm counting on it."