Touchstone

Touchstone

Under the greenwood tree Draco Malfoy hummed to himself, carefully creasing the parchment to construct a beak. Satisfied with the resulting crane, he was about to fledge it when he heard bushes rustling across the clearing.

Draco leapt into a defensive crouch, wand pointed towards the tree line. "Who's there? Show yourselves!" After a tense second, he twisted his wand. "Ducdame!"

A heavily-laden boy stumbled into the center of the clearing as if pulled, then tripped over his satchel and sprawled on the ground. He was younger: short and somewhat chubby, a few leaves and twigs stuck in his sandy-brown hair and wearing an astonished expression on his pockmarked face. "Malfoy?"

Draco walked over, refusing to give any ground. "What are you doing here?" he barked.

The boy sat up, his breathing labored. "Dumbledore sent me. There's a safe house?"

"How can I know this isn't a trap?"

"I've got a message in my front pocket." Kid was smart enough not to reach for it.

"Get up," Draco gestured with his wand. Once the boy had struggled to his feet, Draco found the note with a small bottle in the over-large robes.

After reading it twice, Draco carefully torched the paper with his wand. "Well, I guess you're legit." He held the flask up to the light. "What's this?"

"Snape made it... for my protection." The boy held out a shaky hand. He did seem somewhat pale. "Please?"

Draco handed it back. The boy promptly uncorked it and, grimacing, took a swig. His color returned almost immediately as he breathed a deep sigh.

"Want a butterbeer to wash that down?"

The boy's eyes brightened. "Sure, thanks!"

Draco headed back to his resting spot and popped open two bottles. "So what's your name, anyway?"

"Call me Ganymede."

They sat together in the shade.

Ganymede broke the silence. "So who else is staying here?"

"Just me."

"Must get lonely. How do you keep in touch?"

"Dumbledore usually checks in by floo every couple of days. And until end of term, I had homework to keep me busy."

Ganymede frowned, setting down his soda. "So who have you been leaving notes for?"

"What? Nobody!"

"Explain this!" Ganymede flourished an origami crane, fluttering weakly. "I found it caught in a thicket."

Draco snatched it away. "Give me that! It's mine!"

"Then what's this one say?" Ganymede grabbed the unfinished one from under the tree and darted off across the clearing.

"Leave it! That's personal!" Draco gave chase, but Ganymede had already unfolded it and began to read:

"'My girlfriend's eyes are nothing like the sun...'

"Love letters?" Flushing, Draco nodded.

"Malfoy, you've got a girlfriend!?"

"You don't have to sound quite so surprised."

Ganymede scanned the poem again. "You haven't compromised security for some quickie, have you?"

"I couldn't if I wanted to. Fidelius, remember?" Draco stalked back to the tree and picked up his butterbeer, Ganymede trailing like an unwanted shadow. "And no, I don't."

"Don't what?"

He sighed. "Don't have a girlfriend. Not that it's any of your business."

Ganymede looked confused. "Then what are all these?"

"Call it wishful thinking."

"So," Ganymede smirked. "Who is she?"

"Still none of your business."

"Come on, tell me. Maybe I can help. 'If hairs be wires,'" Ganymede recited, "'brown wires grow on her head.' I'll guess it eventually."

Finally, Draco muttered in a voice so quiet the words barely registered. "Granger."

"What?" Ganymede's voice cracked.

This time it was Draco's turn to smirk. "You know her, I take it?"

"Better than you." Ganymede looked more closely at the poem. "Particularly if you think this is the way to win her heart. I mean, come on! Her breath reeks?"

"Oh, and what would you know about it, pipsqueak? You're barely shaving! Have you ever even had a girlfriend?"

"Not as such... But I do know Hermione."

"So you've said."

"And you really want to date her?"

"Yes."

Ganymede seemed to be thinking aloud. "This isn't some elaborate trick to humiliate her?"

"Hey, I don't need your approval. Just... pretend I didn't say anything. You wouldn't understand."

"But I want to," Ganymede replied earnestly. "Explain it to me."

"Why should I bother?" Draco grumped.

"If you can't convince me of your feelings, you won't stand a chance with Hermione."

Draco raised an eyebrow at Ganymede's presumption. "And what's in it for me?" He smiled slyly, "You know Granger so well; you can help me get her."

"Only if your intentions are honorable."

"Obviously." Draco held out his hand. "Deal?"

"Deal," agreed Ganymede as they shook on it.

Draco shook his head in disbelief. "This has got to be the least likely casting of Cyrano I have ever seen."

"Then let's try something else."

"Such as...?"

"What if we pretend I'm Hermione?"

Draco just stared. "You're loony, is what you are."

"No. It's perfect! Treat me like I'm Hermione, and I can tell you what works. Like a trial run." Draco still looked dubious. "And it would give you a reminder of what she's really like. Who knows, if this is just some stupid infatuation brought on by isolation, maybe we can cure you of it without embarrassing yourself in front of her."

"This whole idea is embarrassing," Draco grumbled.

"Better than polluting the forest with doggerel," Ganymede pointed out. "Besides, it doesn't have to go any further than us."

Draco thought it over until Ganymede started to fidget under the scrutiny. "This is all very... selfless of you," Draco said at last. "What do you get out of it?"

"Right now... My life..." Ganymede seemed at a loss for words. After another moment's struggle, he sighed. "It's hard to explain. Let's just say that the way things have been going, I'd rather be somebody else for a while."

Draco nodded, "I can see the appeal."

Draco gathered his possessions. "Well, then... Granger," he said with exaggerated care, "May I show you to your lodgings?"

Ganymede didn't move. Pursing his lips, he gestured to his bag. "Aren't you going to help me with my luggage?"

"Of course. How silly of me to forget." Trying to rebalance everything else he was carrying, Draco started to wonder what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

Draco and Ganymede lived like this for several days, without seeing another human soul. It was hardly the most harmonious household, but outside of their arguments, things were relatively quiet.

So they were quite startled when Dumbledore's head appeared in the fireplace one rainy afternoon as they were reading. "I do hope I'm not intruding on anything," he said with a kind smile.

Draco rolled to his feet. "What's up? Any news?"

"I'm afraid, dear boy, the story's still the same as far as you're concerned. The death threats show no signs of abating."

Draco stiffened slightly, but said nothing as Dumbledore's eyes turned towards Ganymede. "Ah. Draco, would you please give us a few moments. I have some personal matters to discuss with your housemate."

Draco nodded, picked up his book and shut the door behind him.

He'd barely read two paragraphs before Ganymede came barreling out the door and embraced him. "Great news! My family is safe! I can rejoin them tomorrow."

Draco smiled a rictus-like grin. "How... wonderful for you."

Ganymede's face fell, as he realized the implications. "Why don't you come with me? We could probably summon Dumbledore back and ask."

"Nah," Draco said, "You heard him. It's not safe to show my face in public."

"But..."

Draco waved off further protests and headed towards the basement. "I shouldn't be bringing you down. It's your lucky day. We should celebrate."

Celebration meant that Draco showed Ganymede the wine cellar, selected several bottles suitable for dinner and beyond, and then they both drank themselves into a stupor as the evening progressed.

When the hour had gotten quite late, the Weird Sisters began to play their latest hit on the wireless.

"I love this tune," Ganymede slurred.

"Wanna dance?" Draco asked.

"On'y if you lead."

By the time they staggered to their feet, the next song, a slower one, had begun. They clung to one another, leaning back and forth as much to stay upright as out of any innate rhythm. Ganymede rested his head against Draco's shoulder. "This's nice," he mumbled.

Draco agreed, pulling Ganymede closer and wrapping him in his arms. And so they stood, vaguely swaying as the music washed over them.

Before long, that comfort turned into arousal, and as the clock struck eleven Draco began to rub his pelvis against the younger boy's.

Startled, Ganymede pulled away, toppling them both onto the couch. With trembling hands, he gulped down his regular dose of elixir. "'f I'm not careful, I'll forget myself."

Draco touched Ganymede's chin, tilting his head so they were eye to eye. "So?" Then he smashed his lips against Ganymede's in a sloppy but ardent kiss.

Ganymede gasped in shock, allowing entry to Draco's tongue.

Draco had never kissed another guy, and quickly discovered that Ganymede's mouth tasted like something had crawled in to die.

Draco broke the kiss and grabbed for the bottle of port. He belted some back then pushed it at Ganymede. "That is the nastiest potion I have ever tasted!"

Ganymede gaped at Draco. "Your ears are turning pink."

Draco grinned, eyes twinkling. "That just means it was a good kiss."

Ganymede looked away, setting the bottles on the table. "We shouldn't be doing this. You don't want me."

Once the breakables were safe, Draco pulled Ganymede onto his lap, letting him feel Draco's erection. "Don't tell me what I want," he growled.

"But I'm..." Draco stopped any further protest with his mouth. The port was an effective chaser, and he could no longer sense even a hint of Snape's vile brew.

After a moment's hesitation, Ganymede threw his arms around Draco's neck and kissed back.

Loneliness was a potent aphrodisiac, and Draco devoured Ganymede's mouth like a starving man. Ganymede proved no less ardent. Their thrusting tongues warred for dominance, savouring each other as thoroughly as possible before the coming famine.

"Hold on," Ganymede whispered, swinging one leg around to straddle Draco before resuming their kiss.

Draco grabbed Ganymede and, groaning, pulled him closer still. Ganymede gasped, nearly biting Draco's tongue in his surprise, and his hands flew to brace against Draco's chest, though he didn't push away.

Draco chuckled and started to grind, still clutching Ganymede's ass. Ganymede wound his arms around Draco's back, and slid back and forth, riding him.

After months of deprivation, Draco couldn't long withstand such delicious torment. Ganymede wasn't much better.

Ganymede groaned and broke their kiss, pressing his lips onto Draco's neck. Mouth suddenly free, Draco clamped onto the closest ear, suckling and chewing for all he was worth. Ganymede clawed at Draco's back as Draco rocked them faster and faster.

Without warning, Ganymede dug his nails into Draco's back and came, biting Draco's shoulder to stifle a scream. That was all Draco needed to push himself over the edge, and within moments he too was finished.

Time lost all meaning as they panted and gasped for breath. Bonelessly, they slid off the couch, still kissing and nuzzling one another with what little energy they had remaining.

When the clock tolled midnight, Draco barely registered it until he felt Ganymede struggling to rise.

"Don' go..." he mumbled, snuggling in tighter against Ganymede's robes.

"My potion!"

"In a moment," Draco slurred, refusing to let go.

Ganymede shoved and squirmed, but couldn't find enough leverage. "I need to take it now," he pleaded.

"Oh, c'mon. A few minutes won't matter much either way."

Draco had him well pinned and held fast until the last bell faded into silence.

Grinning, he planted a playful kiss on Ganymede's nose. "See, Cinderella? No pumpkins."

Unfortunately for them both, that was the moment Ganymede's Polyjuice finally wore out.

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• Ducdame: "a Greek invocation to call fools into a circle" (AYLI Act II, Scene 5)
• Draco's poem is Sonnet 130, slightly modified