Like a House on Fire

"Have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"Dreadfully underinformed, aren't you?"

"Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Malfoy made Harry bark like a dog!"

"What?"

"Yep, and from what I hear, he also got a sordid photo. I wish I knew what it was of!"

*******

"First of all, Mr. Potter, take those absurd dog ears off," commanded Professor McGonagall.

Harry gratefully obliged. Draco was lounging in a chair beside him, seemingly completely uncaring of what the consequences of all this could be.

"Now, explain."

Harry was torn. On one hand it would be an easy way out of this mess. On the other, if he did that to Draco, he would never convince Draco to give him that camera, and without that camera, Draco could just pick up the game when all the fuss had died down. He sighed.

"Oh, it's nothing Professor. Malfoy and I were excited about a discovery we had made in the Library and we were just running to tell the... people about it."

The Professor looked unconvinced. "No doubt you also have an explanation for your attire."

"Professor, we were trying to come up with a suggestion for the Hogwarts school play and we thought we'd brainstorm better in costume. When you found us, I had just changed and Potter was just about to go up to the Gryffindor dorms and change," Draco interjected, sincerity oozing out of every pore.

"Hogwarts doesn't do a school play, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall snapped flatly.

"That's because no-one has ever come up with a good idea for one, Professor." Draco smiled at her and glanced at Harry.

Harry got the feeling that, having tangled them both up in his little fib, Draco was now going to let him deal with untangling them.

"Well then Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy. Permit me to escort you up to Professor Dumbledore to explain your idea to him. Although I suspect Mr. Filch will be in charge of the school play this year," she said, raising an eyebrow.

The trip to Dumbledore's office seemed shorter than ever. McGonagall tapped on the door and whispered the password. The entrance swung open and McGonagall gestured for Draco and Harry to enter. She showed no inclination of following them and the portal swung closed again. Turning, Harry made his way up towards Dumbledore's office. He could hear Draco following him.

"Ah, Harry. What a delightful surprise. And young Mr. Malfoy too, I see. Please, sit down. Now, would you care to explain to me why you're here?"

Harry repeated Draco's previous explanation, figuring that even such a weak lie could be strengthened by consistency.

"Ah, very interesting, Harry. What was your great idea?"

"I beg your pardon?" Harry was slow to catch on.

"Why, for the play! I think it's a simply marvelous idea."

Harry coughed.

Draco quickly interrupted. "It's a tragedy."

"Very interesting," said Dumbledore. "It will have its comic relief, I hope?"

"Of course," Harry said quickly. "There will be a bumbling villain."

"With a painful secret hidden deep in his heart," Draco added.

"The villain's name is Snaco," Harry exclaimed, inspired.

Draco glared at him. "There's a hero in denial who can't do the simplest magic. His name is Hairy."

Harry glared back. "Hairy and Snaco were mortal enemies in their Hogwarts days and their hatred is still strong."

"There will be a reign of terror taking over England. The hero and villain both return to Hogwarts to fight the evil, Snaco is pretending to be good so he can stab Hairy in the back at the last moment," Draco improvised.

They were alternating regularly now. Dumbledore sat with his fingers steepled, gazing at them.

"But Snaco has secretly sold himself out to the dark side."

"There is a spectacular battle!"

"In which the hero triumphs."

"By falling over a bucket and tripping Snaco over."

"They are both badly injured." Harry rolled his eyes at Draco.

"When Snaco awakes from his healing sleep there is a beautiful woman caring for him."

"Only Hairy has realised that Snaco is working for the dark side."

"He falls instantly in love with her because her heart is as black as his is and they join forces and take over the world and make lots of evil little children. The End."

Harry was not prepared to let their impromptu play end like that.

"Snaco only thinks it is the end. In reality, Hairy has been hiding out and waiting until he is strong enough to defeat Snaco. He sneaks into Snaco's fortress and stabs him fifteen times in his vile heart."

"Unfortunately, for Hairy, he had stabbed one of Snaco's body doubles. Overcome by guilt at having killed in cold blood, Hairy throws himself off the nearest cliff."

"He lands in the sea and is washed up unconscious on a beautiful island."

"Meanwhile, Snaco has fortified his fortress so that Hairy could never get in again."

"One day, while walking on his battlements, Dra -- I mean, Snaco -- slips on a patch of slime and falls to his doom, impaled by his own defenses."

Draco seemed perfectly enraged. "Meanwhile, unaware of his enemy's demise, Hairy sets off by boat to find and kill Snaco. He gets eaten by a sea monster. The End."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment. Finally he said, "Well it certainly is tragic... and I can see potential for humour... I'll get on to the relevant powers soon, boys. Could you two please refine the concepts a bit more so we can give it to some scriptwriters?"

"Professor," Draco said, looking shocked.

Harry was impressed. He hadn't though anyone could cause Draco to feel an emotion other than amusement or anger. Unless you counted evil as an emotion.

Harry looked hopefully over at Dumbledore. No, he wasn't joking.

Draco had recovered his poise. Leaning indolently back in his chair he fixed the Headmaster with a stare over his proverbial glasses.

"Actually, Professor Dumbledore, Potter and I were just having a little fun. You see, I bought him at the Slave Auction, so he has to do what I say for twenty-four hours."

"Oh," said Dumbledore, looking vaguely disappointed.

Harry stared in Draco in amazement. "Why couldn't you just say that to Professor McGonagall?" he asked.

Draco shrugged. "Didn't want to."

After the incident in Dumbledore's office, Draco had let Harry go to class, demanding that Harry be back at their usual room straight aftrwards. Harry, of course had been compelled to do so. He had found Draco sitting in the chair, but the other boy had stood up and gone to stare out the window.

Harry was musing about their abortive play. "What would Snaco's first line be, I wonder? How about 'I am a selfish git who wears tight underwear and has a girly voice'?"

Draco whirled. "Are you suggesting something?"

Harry shrugged. "Why? Does he remind you of someone?"

Draco stalked. "No, not really."

Harry was suddenly incredibly proud of himself. He had flustered Draco Malfoy. Draco 'Ice-Man' Malfoy. Draco 'I-don't-have-one-emotion-in-this-pretty-little-head' Malfoy.

Wait. Pretty? Harry hoped he hadn't just thought what he thought he had thought.

Then Draco turned again to face Harry, who had sat down in one of the chairs.

"Maybe," the Slytherin began, "Snaco and Hairy were lovers. Then Hairy met a girl and fell in love with her. Snaco was hurt by Hairy's cold rejection and the hurt became anger and the anger became hate and soon all that was left of their love was burning enmity."

By the time he had said this Draco was standing so close to Harry that his stomach was just about brushing Harry's nose. Harry swallowed hard and leant away.

"That is how it happened, you know." Draco said quietly bending over so that his hair was brushing Harry's forehead. "Oh, there was no love, no girl. But never forget, Harry that you rejected my friendship on the train, not the other way around."

Harry was shocked. He was about to protest his but Draco was staring at his lips. Nervously, he licked them. Draco's small, pink tongue mimicked the action. Before he knew what was happening, Draco was kissing him again. He seemed almost angry, the way his lips ground into Harry's. Suddenly frightened for some reason, Harry struggled. He didn't expect Draco to care but to his surprise the Slytherin boy broke the kiss immediately.

With a look of slight disgust Draco stalked over to the other of the armchairs and threw himself into it. Harry's heart was galloping as he tried to catch a breath.

There was silence.

At that moment, the door flew open and a very agitated Ron stood in the doorway.

"Harry, there you are!" Ron practically yelled. "You've got Quidditch Practice now!"

Harry swore a vile oath and glanced at Draco, who was looking ominously thoughtful.

"Can I go?" Harry asked him cautiously.

Draco started. "What? Oh, yes Potter. Run along." He smirked.

Harry, not willing to risk Draco's mercurial moods, hared out of the room. After a quick stopover to escape the dreadful outfit he was still wearing, he grabbed his broom and ran down to the Quidditch Pitch.

The whole team was waiting for him, looking put-out. He grinned and scuffed his toe.

Lavender Brown, now playing Chaser on the Gryffindor Team, pounced. "I see you're back in school clothes, Harry," she said by way of beginning.

Colin Creevey, a Beater, joined in. "Yeah, what's the story with your outfits today?"

Harry sighed, then, without compunction, used his authority as Quidditch Captain to make them all be quiet.

After Quidditch, Harry figured he had a little while before his stalker came hunting him, and there was something he needed to do. He found Hermione where he expected her to be, curled up in her favourite chair in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was a blessing on Gryffindor house that Harry had finally grown up enough to acknowledge when he was in the wrong, and apologise, which was what he came to do now.

Hermione glanced up as he approachd her cautiously. He could see by her frosty expression that she was still cross with him. During Quidditch Practice, he had come to the sheepish realisation that she had every right to be angry, first for his manner, and then that unfortunate kiss.

"Hey, Hermione," he began awkwardly, "I'd just like to say I'm sorry. For earlier."

She glared at him and said nothing.

"My behaviour was wrong and I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you. It was unfair of me."

Hermione kept him hanging for a while, then she smiled. "Well then."

Harry was glad Hermione had forgiven him, but he could feel Draco searching for him, like the tugging of a string attached to his breastbone. Resigned, he left the Common Room.

He found Draco still sitting in that same room. Around him were strewn the accouterments of his fun. In the corner lay the green tights and tent-like shirt, with the sign propped up beside them. In the centre of the room, his school robes were lying in a crumpled heap. He eyed it longingly, but since he was now in Quidditch robes, the urgency to be clothed in his school robes was rather less than it had been.

As he closed the door, Draco looked up, his eyes unfocussed. Draco waved his arm casually at Harry's clothes.

"There, change." He said shortly, before leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes.

Harry was quite put off by this change in Draco's demeanor.

On the other hand, he reflected, he didn't feel quite as threatened by this new Draco, and he had resolved to seduce his way into the Slytherin dorms.

After he was once again dressed in his robes, he wandered over to where Draco still sat in the same position. For some reason his heart was pounding madly.

"Draco," he whispered, "I can't get the collar off, will you remove it?"

Draco looked up in surprise as Harry straddled his thighs, resting his own knees on the edge of the chair.

"Sure," Draco said, sounding tired.

He reached up and put his arms around Harry's neck to find the buckle. Harry leant forward, ostensibly to make it easier for Draco. Eventually his head was resting on Draco's shoulder. Draco's hands faltered for a moment then continued fiddling until the collar was undone.

When Harry didn't move, Draco lowered his arms and let them rest on Harry's back.

Suddenly they were kissing frantically. Harry's teeth were mashing against Draco's lips, then Draco's lips opened. Draco's hands were sliding under Harry's shirt, leaving tingles were they moved frantically. Harry gave himself up to it. After all, he needed to get that camera.

By now, Draco was shirtless. His hands were reaching into Draco's pants.

"Draco," Harry whispered when he judged the time was right. "Can we--could we do this in a bed?"

Draco blinked at him, eyes slightly glazed.

"Yours is closer," Harry continued, which was true. The Gryffindor Tower was on the other side of the castle, whereas the Slytherin Dungeon was directly below them.

Finally, Draco nodded.