The Anti-Angst Movement

Chapter 4 : The Train Ride Cliché (And the Welcoming Feast Cliché)

~*~

When Harry woke, he was moaning. Not from the usual Voldie nightmare, but from something far worse - his new line of Draco Wet Dreams.

Last night's Draco Wet Dream had featured the ever-lovely Harry handcuffed to a bed at the ever-sexy Draco's tongue's mercy.

Harry gasped and shuddered, but not from revulsion.

He was very fortunate that he had thought to ask for a silencing spell on his room. Draco had raised an eyebrow at the request but had kept from commenting. Harry didn't think he could handle it if the object of his dreams had heard his name being cried out in... something definitely unlike fear.

Harry took a few moments for his breathing to calm down. He was suddenly aware of the fierce aching between his legs, and of the knocking at the door.

Shit!

He leapt out of bed and dove for the bathroom - it wouldn't do him any good for Draco to see him in only his red shorts with a tent stretching a mile long - just as the door opened. Harry quickly slammed the bathroom door shut, breathing a sigh of relief.

Draco's voice came from the other side of the door. "Harry? Are you okay?" Harry thought he could detect mild concern, as well as a bit of breathlessness. Strange... why would he be breathless?

A few seconds ticked past, and Harry realized that he hadn't answered. Oops. "Yeah, I'm fine, Draco. Bad dream and all." Well, not bad at all, actually it was quite good - "Did you sleep well?" I did! Well, as well as one can sleep with images of Draco's tongue down one's throat - "Aren't we leaving for the train today?" Didn't my dream start with being alone in a compartment with him? Oh, crap! What if this dream comes true too, like the Voldemort dreams? Ahhhhh!

While Harry was mentally freaking out, Draco was trying not to rush the door and jump the boy on the other side.

After Harry had gone upstairs, he had had a word with Tom, who knew all about Draco having to keep an eye on Harry, and had asked him to extend the silencing charm over both of their rooms as a whole unit, so that he would be able to hear what went on in Harry's room, without Harry's privacy being violated by outsiders.

Draco didn't consider himself an outsider.

It was in the early morning when Draco had woken to muffled moans. Knowing immediately who was making them, Draco had run for Harry's room, using his extra key to get into it and save the Boy Who Lived from whatever was attacking him.

Upon rushing into the room, Draco had frozen. On the bed was a sleeping Harry, crying out passionately, with his hands wrapped around a hardness Draco had only seen in dreams, and a few times in the Quidditch showers.

Oh. My. GODS.

Quickly realizing that if he didn't leave that instant he would ravage the oblivious Gryffindor, Draco left, locked the door behind him and hightailed it back to his room. After throwing himself on his bed and staring blankly at the ceiling, Draco was hit with the realization of exactly what Harry was doing. His body reacted accordingly, and soon Draco was moaning himself, albeit more quietly than Harry.

After Draco had finished showering and dressing, he had heard the moaning stop for good. The following silence was quickly interrupted by a gasp, and then harsh breathing. Harry had woken up. Thus Draco had left the room to face his unrequited love.

When Harry hadn't answered to his knocking, he had unlocked the door and walked right in, only to see the bathroom door slam shut. Apparently, Harry was embarrassed by his release, or still needed to release. Draco licked his lips. I could help him if it was the latter... His breathing sped up slightly at the image that thought provoked.

Then Draco had to smile at Harry's attempt at conversation and flimsy excuse for why he was freaking out. Oh, Harry... "I slept fine, Harry, and yes, we are leaving in an hour. It is eight right now. When you have showered and dressed, we will eat breakfast and leave. Is that all right?"

"Yeah, um, I guess. Want to eat in here or in your room? I don't mind either way." Harry still sounded dubious and bothered.

Draco mentally snorted. Hot and bothered is more like it. Poor love. I wonder... who was he dreaming about? "Either is fine. How about my room, then? Come in when you finish getting ready."

On the other side of the door, Harry sighed with relief. He nodded to Draco's words, then foolishly remembered that Draco couldn't see him. "Sure. Give me twenty minutes, okay?" Or join me in my shower... ack! No! Bad Harry! No more perverted thoughts! What would Ron say? A mental image of Ron's reaction at the prospect of Malfoy looking like anything other than an ugly git served to empty Harry's mind of all perverted thoughts of Draco.

Draco's smooth baritone answered him calmly. "All right. I'll see you then." Footsteps, and then the door shut, leaving Harry alone.

The youngest Seeker in a century slouched against the door, a long sigh escaping him. "Ron's going to kill me."

Hiding in the bedroom, the canary had to agree.

~*~

Twenty-five minutes later, Harry stood outside Draco's room. And he was fidgeting. His mind ran through the train of thoughts he had had in the shower.

Why am I having dreams about him? And THOSE dreams, at that? Do I like him? Does he like me? I haven't really liked anyone since Cho left... Hermione's stuck up on Ron, I already tried a relationship with Ginny and that didn't work, Lavender's with Dean last I checked, and none of the other girls really appeal to me. Neither do guys, for that matter. Seamus is cute, though. Too bad he's busy shagging everyone in the school. Justin was always nice to me, though, especially after we had that... really weird... detention together... Blaise Zabini is okay, but you never heard me say that. Or think that. Erm. Who am I talking to again?

Before Harry could wonder if he really was insane, the door in front of him swung open, revealing a tall blonde with gray-silver eyes. Harry's gaze was drawn to those eyes.

Cold. Stormy. Specks of blue and green. Even a hint of gold. Shimmering. Icy. Oh, Merlin, Harry thought frantically. I am obsessing over Draco Malfoy's eyes. First legs, then eyes. What next, his arse??

In front of him Draco raised an eyebrow and leaned against the doorway. "Something on your mind, Potter?"

Harry's eyes snapped guiltily away from their increasingly thorough oglation of Draco's lovely eyes. He shifted his weight to his other foot then back again, absently hoping for Voldemort to swoop in and Avada Kedavra him now. He mumbled an apology and squeezed past the Slytherin, holding back a cringe as his hip brushed Draco's leg. I am out of my mind.

~*~

Draco mentally sighed as he watched Harry nervously sit down. Poor boy was terrified. Maybe it was fear of his... dream... being discovered? Draco wasn't sure.

Swiftly he followed his guest's example. The meal was already set out, hot and steaming and ready for them to eat. Draco gestured for Harry to begin before doing so himself. They began to eat in an uncomfortable silence.

Not ten long and uncomfortable minutes had passed before Harry suddenly put his silverware down. "I can't do this anymore," the black-haired youth stated, looking as if his death warrant had been signed. Draco was taken aback.

"What do you mean? Are you all right?"

"No," Harry said miserably. "How can I be all right when I'm having wet dreams about someone I'm NOT supposed to have wet dreams about? The Boy Who Lived isn't supposed to dream about boys!" The Gryffindor pulled his legs up into his chair, curling up and burying his head in his arms.

Draco sat shocked. He had figured Harry was having a dream about the female Weasley, or even Hermione - maybe even that Ravenclaw he liked last year. Never a boy.

"A... boy?" he asked faintly, just to make sure he had heard correctly.

~*~

Harry froze. Oh, shit. "Erm."

~*~

Draco could scarcely believe it. His Harry, gay? The possibility was lesser than Voldemort sprouting daisies out of his ears...

~*~

Somewhere, the location of which we will never know, Salazar's heir lurked. Another meeting with the Death Eaters had passed, and Tom was ready to Avada Kedavra the whole lot of them. The Dark Lord stalked to a mirror, glaring at his pale face and red eyes. "I used to be so lovely," You-Know-Who sighed. "Then that damn boy nearly killed me, and I come back looking like this," the snake-like man waved a hand at his pallid reflection, "like a vampire! And it doesn't help a bit that Potter looks remarkably like I did when I was young."

He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named paused, studying his reflection some more. Absently he tapped his wand against his chin. "I need some color," he decided. With a flourish the leader of the Death Eaters raised his wand and brought it down, bellowing a spell that would give him some color.

What Voldemort got was daisies sprouting out of his ears.

A scream echoed through the land, causing magical creatures, spies, and faithful Death Eaters to flee for their safety.

"AAAAUUUGGHH!"

~*~

Harry wished he could throw himself into a hole. A deep, dark hole. A hole preferably filled with Death Eaters and/or dragons and/or Professor Snape. He wanted his death to be quick.

Then again, skip Professor Snape. The man lived for torture.

~*~

Horny-Devil!Draco popped up, smirking widely. "Yes!" the tiny Slytherin demon crowed, jumping up and down in ecstasy. Or soon-to-be ecstasy.

Once-Horny-But-Now-Rather-Innocent-Angel!Draco crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at his leatherified counterpart. "Pervert," he muttered, wishing they could focus more on the ROMANCE aspect of the relationship. Damn hormonal teenagers.

~*~

Angel!Harry was banging his head against the wall. Devil!Harry was right beside him, doing the same thing. The two muttered in unison,

"Shit."

~*~

Somewhere, a canary attempted to raise an eyebrow, before realizing that canaries didn't have eyebrows and therefore a canary could not succeed in raising one. No matter how many times they drew in a raised eyebrow.

(Later in the story, the canary would roll its beady little eyes at some Ministry officials before shoving its marker into the bulbless electrical fixture beside him -- the spell having put it there moments before -- which resulted in the stupid bird being electrocuted, thus ending the Reign of the Evil Canary -- at least for a few chapters.)

~*~

Draco cleared his throat, absently pushing the Harry Potter Glasses (trust me, they exist) up his nose before glancing at a notepad. "So you are upset because you are having dreams about a boy... Mr. Potter, is it?"

Stretched out on the divan was Harry Potter, looking lovely in a pair of leather pants he had procured from Sirius on his birthday and a deep blue shirt that looked a bit short. (Not that anyone minded.) His glasses were off and sitting on a table beside his divan. Harry was staring at the ceiling in a way somewhat reminiscent of the ever-popular My-Entire-World-Has-Turned-Upside-Down-Because-I-Got-Caught-With-My-Hand-In-The-Proverbial-Cookie-Jar look that nearly all children and most adults have had on at least once in the past six months -- most often, it wasn't the Proverbial Cookie Jar in which their hand was when they were caught, but rather something like Mommy's Make-Up Bag or Daddy's Tool Kit (or, for the more raunchy teens and adults, Brother's Dirty Magazine Collection).

But I digress.

For some reason that Harry and Draco couldn't possibly fathom at the moment, the room had transformed into a therapist's office, complete with divan. Draco was the therapist, and Harry was the disturbed patient with more problems than hairs on Albus Dumbledore's chin, so to speak.

Both boys had blinked at each other and down at their respective places before someone called out from outside, "Sorry, everyone! Wayward spell!"

The Leaky Cauldron's customers as a whole sighed, rolled their eyes, and watched with amusement as Ministry officials rushed to fix the Muggles' various scenarios and offer some quick (and reliable!) Memory Charms. Most of the customers turned back to their meals/showers/snogs/papers after a moment or two.

Draco had decided immediately that he was going to use this to help Harry with his... er, problem.

Harry had decided immediately that he was never going to tell Hermione about this.

"Harry's fine. And yes. I never thought that I'd like guys. Girls have plenty of interest for me. But, I suppose from looking back at the years, I very well could have been gay without realizing it. But... I like girls, still. What does that make me?"

"Bisexual."

"Oh. That's right."

"While we're talking about it, who did you dream about, Harry? How did you know it was a boy?"

"...Erm."

"Don't worry, Harry, it's just us two. If it's any comfort to you, there's a silencing spell around the room."

"Um."

"Was it that bad?"

"Squa--" A bird's yelp was suddenly cut off by an unknown source. Harry and Draco blinked as the electricity flickered for a moment. For some reason, it suddenly smelled like smoke.

Outside, a rather queasy Ministry official fainted at the sight of a canary hanging from a Muggle light fixture, two small x's replacing its beady eyes.

Back inside the therapist's room, Harry was answering Draco's question. "It, well... the dream wasn't bad. Oh Merlin no, the dream was great! But... the person..." Harry looked away, refusing to meet Draco's eyes.

Said silver orbs widened a bit. Oh, shit, it's Weasley. "Was the person... close to you? A friend, perhaps?"

Harry shook his head in the negative firmly. "No. I barely know this person." Well, that's true. But Draco doesn't need to know that.

Not Weasley, then. Must be a different House, if Harry doesn't know them well. "A Hufflepuff, perhaps?"

Harry suddenly realized that if Draco continued, he would fast find out exactly who Harry had dreamed about. Which Harry did NOT want happening. The slim youth turned around, looking at Draco with soft eyes. "I'm really sorry, Fe--er, Mal--er. Damn. What do I call you?"

Draco had to pinch his leg rather roughly so that the look in Harry's eyes wouldn't force him to, oh, jump the boy. "Draco will do just fine."

"All right... I'm really sorry, Draco, but I don't think I can talk to you about this. It's very personal, and I don't think I can share it with anyone right now. I'm sorry."

Draco felt slightly disappointed. But he didn't mind it. He didn't really expect Harry to open up and tell his life story on only the third day. "That's all right, Harry."

Harry smiled gratefully at the taller teen. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Suddenly, the room reverted back to the way it was. Harry and Draco found themselves back in their chairs. Draco was still holding a knife and a piece of toast. Quickly he put the items down, assuming his usual cool and suave air.

"Right. Are you done eating, Harry?"

Harry glanced at his still mostly full plate. "I suppose so."

"Then it's time to go."

Harry stared at Draco for a moment before slowly nodding. "Yes, I suppose it is."

~*~

Harry pulled the door shut to the black car as he slid into his seat beside Draco. Reaching behind him he grabbed the seatbelt and pulled it on, buckling it and glancing over at Draco, who was watching him quietly. "Ready to go?" the blonde asked.

Harry smiled slightly at him, nodding. Draco smiled back before driving off.

~*~

They pulled into the station at about ten-thirty. Draco pulled the car to an easy stop, shut off the power, and leaned back with a sigh. "Good time, wouldn't you say?"

Harry made a noncommittal noise as he stared out the windows at the passing Muggles. When he spoke, his voice was hesitant. "Draco..."

The slim Slytherin glanced over at his passenger, lowering his arms from a stretch. "Hmm?"

"How are we to treat each other at school?"

Draco blinked. He hadn't expected that. Well, he had expected to tell Harry the answer, but he hadn't expected Harry thinking of the question himself. Hmm. Showed how much he knew. "Well..." he started, then paused deliberately, a crafty smile spreading over his lips.

Harry recognized the tone of voice immediately. Malfoy was up to something. Slowly he turned to look his Slytherin counterpart in the eye. "What?" he demanded, scowling.

Draco laughed at the face. "Well, Potter, as it so happens, when this whole mess started, I had a request granted by my father. Instead of torturing the Boy Who Lived in his final year at Hogwarts, 'Which he won't be surviving anyway,' to quote the great Lucius Malfoy, I shall spend my time studying and working towards mastering my N.E.W.T.s. I must be rude to you occasionally so that the others don't think I'm losing my touch, but for the most part..." he trailed off, his smirk widening.

Harry's eyes widened. For a long moment he just stared at Draco. "So... you're not going to make my life a living hell?"

Draco shook his head, the smirk unknowingly turning into a smile. "No, I won't."

Slow joy spread over the tanned face of the Boy Who Lived. Then suddenly the joy vanished, and Harry looked almost heartbroken. He turned his face away from Draco, sighing a bit. "I guess this means we won't be able to talk to each other like this either."

Draco blinked, the smile fading in his confusion and concern. "You mean... you like talking to me like this?"

Unsure, but slowly a nod.

"Well..."

Harry looked back at him, green eyes bright with hope.

Draco caved in. "I'm Head Boy this year, Harry. I get my own room. If ever you feel like you want to talk, or you're lonely, or you need a good argument, come on down. I'll tell you where it is when they tell me, all right?"

The green eyes lit up. Harry smiled, feeling something in his chest relax and disappear from the tight knot it had been in. He then flushed, glancing at his lap, but still blushing. "It's probably strange for me to want to spend time with you..."

Draco shook his head, absently smiling. "Perhaps. However, I get the feeling that a friendship between us would probably serve to help in the war against Lord Voldemort. Besides," here he lowered his voice, glancing downwards, "I rather like our conversations. Even if they are somewhat inane."

"Hey!"

Draco laughed. "Come on, Potter. Let's get out of here."

~*~

"Harry!"

Harry grinned and turned around, waving with a hand at the redhead and brunette who were running toward him. "Ron! Hermione! Hey!" he called, laughing as his two best friends struggled to beat each other in their race to meet him. Expectantly Harry opened his arms. Finally, he was seized by two people at the same time: Ron around his waist, Hermione around his neck. Smiling he hugged the two back, closing his eyes as the familiar voices flowed through his ears.

"Harry! You should have seen that Firebolt, it was bloomin' gorgeous! Fred had to drag me by my hair to get me away from it, but I couldn't help it - it was so... so... you know! And too bad we missed you at breakfast, mate. Honestly, it was hell leaving even with only Ginny and the twins! You know Dad and Mum didn't come this time, they were absolutely swamped with work, what with getting the new house ready for Charlie and his wife. Mum only let the twins come with us because they wanted to check up on their shop."

Ron was slightly pushed away by Hermione, who immediately took over after his last word. "Oh, Harry! I wish we could have eaten breakfast together, but Ron forgot your room number and as it would be rather rude to go knocking on every door asking for Harry Potter, we didn't come to look for you. You don't mind too terribly, do you? And don't worry, we can talk all we want on the train, instead of being rudely interrupted by a certain Ronald Weasley who was so impatient to see the newest Firebolt that he'd abandon his own very handsome best friend."

"Hermione!"

Hermione smiled - rather evilly for her - and leaned up slightly to kiss Harry on the cheek. Harry was used to this by now, and was close enough to Hermione that he'd let her do this comfortably. On his other side, Ron started to sputter, then stopped, a smile blooming on his face as well.

"Hermione Granger! What is this? Are you cheating on me, young lady?" Ron joined in the joke, smirking now. The fervor of the moment got to him, and he leaned down, kissing Harry's other cheek. Harry felt a blush spread across his nose when some second-years looked at them strangely.

Hermione was obviously fighting laughter. "Oh? And you accuse me of such a thing when you yourself do that to poor Harry? Ronald Weasley, I'm ashamed of you!"

Harry took this moment to become a temporary pacifist. "Now, now, you two! No need to fight! There's plenty of me to go around!" he exclaimed, grinning widely.

All three burst into laughter, causing smiles to bloom on the faces of the students and families around them. The three were well-known for their close bond, and for some reason that knowledge gave hope in the dark times of the present.

Harry gave his best friends another hug before ducking out of their arms. "Come on, I've got a compartment saved. I have so much to tell you guys!"

Ron and Hermione smiled and, gathering their belongings, followed Harry onto the train for their last year at Hogwarts.

~*~

"You're joking."

"I can't say I am."

"You are bloody joking."

"Ron..."

Ron exploded. "It's bloody Malfoy! You cannot sit there and tell me that bloody fucking Malfoy is on our side and was protecting you the whole time we were at Diagon Alley!"

"Well, not the whole time, while I was shopping and with you guys there were Aurors watching me instead -"

"But... but... Malfoy! His father's a Death Eater, Harry!"

"That doesn't mean Draco is."

"Oh, and now you're calling him Draco?! Harry, I think we need to straighten out your priorities."

Hermione chose that moment to put her two pence in. "Ron! Harry's priorities are just fine! Be nice!" The two had a staring contest, which Hermione won, and Ron backed down. Hermione then turned to Harry. "Now, while I am hesitant to trust Malfoy of all people, I do trust you, Harry, and I trust your judgment. Do you really think he's on our side? What if he's faking the whole thing?"

Harry sighed, but he could understand where she was coming from. "I'm sure of it, 'Mione. He still has a lot of mysteries, and I'm not ready to fully trust him, but... I think he's sincere. Besides, he doesn't have the Dark Mark, and that's saying something, isn't it?"

Hermione blinked. "He doesn't have the Dark Mark? How do you know?"

Now Harry blushed. "Erm... well..."

"Oh, spit it out, Harry. We don't have all day."

"Ron!" two voices cried at the same time.

"Sorry."

While Hermione hmphed and glared at the redhead, Harry sighed in exasperation. "He was wearing Muggle clothes when he first came to the Dursleys' house. His shirt was short-sleeved. I even asked an Auror to remove any Concealing Charms. There were none. He's not Marked."

Both Gryffindors stopped glaring at each other and turned to stare at him. "You asked an Auror to remove any Concealing Charms?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, for crying out loud! Hermione, must you repeat everything I say?" The girl only smiled at him. "Argh! Fine. He was in the same store as me at one time, and one of the Aurors approached me and verified who he was. He knew about Draco's assignment, but he wasn't sure about the whole Mark issue, so I suggested to him to see if Draco had on any Concealing Charms."

"But, Harry..."

Sigh. "What, Hermione?"

"To ask and to suggest are two different things entirely."

"Hermione!"

~*~

For the next few hours, the trio discussed many things: Draco Malfoy, Quidditch, best estimate as to how long the new DADA teacher would last, who Seamus would try to shag first, you know, the usual...

Friends dropped in on them all throughout the ride. Seamus, Dean and Neville stopped by after the trolley had passed, and after Ginny had joined them, the seven played a rousing game of Exploding Snap. Dean even challenged Ron to a chess game when that ended, leaving Harry and Hermione to put up with a hyper Seamus while Ginny and Neville giggled to each other in the corner. All in all, it was a pleasant ride.

Of course, the pleasantry had to end. For most, anyways.

Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini stopped in on them a couple hours before they reached Hogwarts. When the door slid open and the infamous Malfoy and Zabini stepped into the compartment, all pairs of eyes widened, several hackles raised, and one heart leapt in an unfamiliar emotion.

Mild words were exchanged, threats were issued, and a fight nearly ensued, had Harry not grabbed Ron at the last moment, shooting a look to Draco. Draco took the look for what it was and left, Blaise following him out.

Harry caught the looks Ron and Hermione were giving him. He sighed. Once he was left alone with the two, they'd dissect him over and over again until he told them the whole truth.

Harry was doomed.

~*~

Finally, the train pulled into the station, the first years were sent across the lake, the other students were shoved into carriages and trolled off to the castle, the student body sat down in the Great Hall, the first years were sorted, Dumbledore made announcements, and food appeared on the plates.

In the middle of the Welcoming Feast, Harry looked away from his friends' chatter and let his eyes pass over the Hall. There was a slightly solemn air over all the tables, but all of the students seemed glad to be back, even the Slytherins. Harry searched the Slytherin table for the familiar blonde head he knew so well from years past.

Something moved, and suddenly Harry was gazing into silver eyes from across the Great Hall. The two held their gaze for as long as they could. When a student stood and walked between the two, Harry was startled from the daze he had sunk into when staring into Draco's eyes. Harry looked down at his lap quickly, feeling his face heat up.

He didn't look up for the rest of the feast, but he knew that those eyes were still on him. Somehow he knew.

~*~

In that same somewhere, the location of which we still won't know, Voldemort glared at his top Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy.

"What do you mean, you can't get rid of the spell?" he hissed dangerously, glaring death at his subordinate.

Lucius swallowed, hoping Voldemort wouldn't Crucio him. "For some reason, no one can break the power of the spell you placed on yourself. I suppose it was because you're so much more powerful than us..."

Voldemort's eye twitched. "So you're saying I need a wizard of equal power to me who will take the spell off."

"Erm, yes, my Lord."

There was a long pause. "I see. You are dismissed."

Voldemort could think of only two wizards powerful enough to help him. He sighed, automatically ruling out the first. However, the second...

~*~

That night, Albus Dumbledore got the laugh of his life when he found the floating head of Voldemort with daisies sprouting out of its ears in his fireplace.