I Don't Know Why

I Don't Know Why

Chapter two: Harry's Dirty Secrets

I don't know why I decided to do it in the first place. I had been standing in front of the Gryffindor portrait for the last ten minutes, and was still no closer to getting inside it.

I had sort of forgotten to find out the password to Gryffindor Tower before putting in place my Evil Plan.

I resisted the impulse to kick the portrait, frowning instead. How was I going to get inside?

"All right there, dear?" the rather overweight lady in the portrait crooned.

"I'm just fine, thanks," I snapped irritably.

"Are you sure?" she said, her tone absolutely dripping sympathy. "You look a little...frustrated, dear."

I bit back the retort on the tip of my tongue and swore quietly when I heard the clatter of feet coming from the stairs. I had to hide! Imagine what would happen if I, Draco Malfoy, was discovered in front of Gryffindor Tower?

Then I remembered. I was Potter!

By the time I'd actually figured that out, the owner of the feet had reached the top of the staircase.

Granger. Bugger.

She grinned and spoke, and I cringed inwardly.

"Harry! Where have you been?"

"Uh..." I said. It was then that it occurred to me that I had no idea how Wonder Boy talks. The only things he'd ever said to me that I remembered were all along the lines of "sod off".

"Never mind," she said at last, probably deciding to ignore the fact I wasn't answering, or maybe just used to this kind of response from Potter. "You won't believe what I've just found out! I was in the library-"

"Really," I muttered sarcastically.

Granger blinked in surprise, and then continued. Obviously whatever she'd found out was more important than me not sounding like Harry. She grabbed my arm and began to drag me towards the portrait. I must have been out of my mind, because the next moment I found myself inside Gryffindor Tower for the first (and probably last) time in my life, with Hermione Granger, a Mudblood, clinging to my arm. What was I doing?

Revenge, Draco, I reminded myself. Focus.

Right. Revenge.

The first thing I did once inside the Gryffindor common room was wonder what kind of man Godric Gryffindor had been to choose red and gold as his house colours. The whole room was garishly decorated in them and the effect was nothing short of awful.

Granger was still prattling on about her 'amazing discovery'.

"And so, it actually seems that the secondary use of boomslang skin is..." she said in a loud whisper. I tried not to roll my eyes.

"Harry!" the Weasel interrupted with a shout. I almost thanked him but...well, didn't. After all, it was only the Weasel, and it's so uncivilized to shout. "Where have you been? Come and play Exploding Snap!"

If that was how Gryffindors spent their free time, it's no wonder Potter turned out the way he did.

I resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow and drifted in the direction of Weasley's hair. He was sitting in front of the fire, surrounded by the other Gryffindor seventh years - Thomas, that idiot Longbottom and the Irish boy, Finnman or whatever his name was. I sat down next to Thomas, reasoning that he was probably the least repulsive of them.

"So Harry," he said as we started to play. "How was detention?"

"Oh," I said. "It was okay."

"Anything... interesting happen?" Finlayson asked with a wink.

I frowned.

"What?"

He wiggled his eyebrows.

"You know," he said conspiratorially. "Seem as you were all alone down there with Malfoy."

Completely confused, I tried to think of what Potter would say.

"Um," I began. "So?"

Note to self, I thought. Next time I tried to carry out an Evil Plan, I would do some background research first. Surely Irish Boy wasn't saying what I thought he was saying...but evidently so, seem as at that point the Weasel interrupted.

"Ew, Seamus," he said, looking absolutely disgusted. "Please never say that again. I mean...Malfoy. Any guy but him. That's just... ew."

"Hey!" I exclaimed. "I am very good-looking!

I cut myself off, remembering too late that I wasn't me, and the Gryffindorks would probably find it rather odd if they thought Potter was referring to me in the first person.

Oops.

The Weasel and Irish Boy gave me decidedly odd looks.

"I...uh...that is...I mean...but I would never do anything with Malfoy."

I shuddered artfully and my inner self applauded. Nice save, Draco, I congratulated myself.

"Harry," the Weasel said. "That makes me very, very, happy. But...uh...well, most girls think Malfoy is...uh...nice-looking...right, Ginny?"

A nearby redhead - obviously a Weasley, since her robes had a large hole in one sleeve - nodded.

"Gorgeous, but still a prat," she said. I scoffed silently. Prat? I am refined and aristocratic, thank you very much.

"So...do you actually...you know...well, do you think he's good looking too?" the Weasel continued.

I blinked.

I blinked again.

Surely they couldn't be saying what I thought they were. Harry Potter? Gay?

No chance in hell! Hadn't he just been going out with that Hufflepuff girl? As far as I knew, Wonder Boy most certainly wasn't gay.

But then...why had he broken it off with her? And why would the Weasel be asking him if he thought I was attractive?

Well, besides the obvious fact that I was attractive, a fact which both men and women had surely noticed.

My brain raced to try and process this new information. Gay. Harry Potter. God, the gossip mill would go into overdrive if it ever got out...

If it ever got out...

Ever got out...

How deliciously evil that would be, I thought wistfully, imagining a world where the Boy Who Lived was effectively off the market - surely making me the Number One Eligible Bachelor.

What better plan could there be?

"Harry?" the Weasel prompted. "Do you?"

Unless...

Imagine, I thought, if the Weasel thought Potter liked me!

Perhaps, I thought, that would be even more evil!

"Harry?" By now, my silence was starting to worry him

Choose, Draco.

"...Yeah, kind of, I guess..." I said quietly, affecting bashfulness while my mind raced to predict the possible outcomes of what I was doing.

Weasel blinked.

"Oh."

Irish Boy blinked.

"WOOOOOOO!" he yelled suddenly. "HARRY LIKES-"

Granger clapped her hand over his mouth before he could say "Malfoy".

"Seamus!" she hissed. "Shut up!"

Angel and Devil Draco, in perfect agreement once again, did another victory dance. Another note to self, I thought. Add to Evil Checklist 'Embarrass enemy by spreading false information.'

I quickly checked my watch and realized that I had exactly four minutes before I would turn back into myself.

Time to leave, then.

I stood up quickly.

"I've just remembered, I...uh...forgot my...uh, pen! I'll just go get it..."

And with that slightly dodgy excuse, I made a hasty exit from Gryffindor Tower. As I left, I heard Weasel's voice floating after me.

"He'll just have to forfeit his turn at Exploding Snap, then. Neville, want a game?"

~*~

I ran all the way to the dungeons, stopping for a rest before entering the room so I wouldn't appear too out of breath. I pulled out my wand and pushed open the door.

Potter had evidently gotten himself out of the storeroom, since he was standing in the middle of the room with his wand pointed at my heart.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted. My wand flew out of my hand and straight through the storeroom's open door.

Oh, crap, I thought.

"Now, Malfoy," he said, quiet but obviously a bit...unhappy with me. "Could you possibly explain why I just woke up in the locked storeroom with a splitting headache, my t-shirt missing and this-"

He held up my Slytherin shirt and tossed it at my feet.

-"On the floor with you nowhere in sight?"

I opened my mouth and closed it again.

"No?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. Obviously he wasn't as suave as me and couldn't raise one eyebrow by itself.

"Well....um..."

I gave up on that, figuring it was highly unlikely I was going to be able to talk my way of this one.

Unless...

"Can you, Potter," I said calmly, "explain why your little Gryffindor friends think you're...how shall I put this...gay?"

He gaped.

"What?"

"Well," I continued, examining my fingernails. "I was just speaking to them. Seems to me they're rather certain you...uh, fly that side of the Quidditch pitch."

"Huh?"

So far, so good.

"Unfortunately, they now also believe you fancy...me."

Potter dropped his wand.

In a series of very fast movements, which I was quite proud of upon later reflection, I dived forward, grabbed it, leapt up and pointed it at him.

"And the tables are turned," I said dryly and added an Evil Laugh as an afterthought.

Potter spluttered.

"Why?" he managed.

"Why what, Potter?" I said innocently.

He shook his head as if to clear it.

"I mean...how...what?"

"Well, you see, I took a leaf out of...um...someone else's book and got detention on purpose, knocked you out with a chair, polyjuiced myself into you, stole your shirt, went to Gryffindor tower, found out all your Dirty Secrets and spread false information about you. Quite good, I thought."

I paused for effect.

"Oh, and before I forget, obliviate!"

Pun intended.

I stalked gracefully from the room.

~*~

It's a few minutes before I can coerce my feet into moving. They seem to have temporarily glued themselves to the dungeon floor. I'm quite certain I just saw Draco Malfoy stalk gracefully from the room. I'm sure he had a very good reason to do that, since I've never known him to make a Grand Exit without a Dramatic Prelude.

Of course, this reasoning doesn't help to fill the gaping hole in my memory.

I wonder briefly where my wand is and see the end of it poking out from behind the storeroom door. My feet finally unstick themselves enough for me to walk over and pick it up, only then realizing that it's not my wand.

He must have taken mine by mistake, I thought. I'll have to go find him and get mine back. Oh joy, oh happiness. An evening trip to the Slytherin dungeons.

I make my way out of the dungeon and turn to head in the direction of the Slytherin rooms. I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I don't see Hermione coming, which means I get an awful shock when she grabs me by the arm.

"Did you find your pen?"

I feel my face screw up into a confused frown.

"What?"

"Your pen," she says patiently. "You said you forgot it?"

"When did I say that?"

"Just then! Everyone was talking in the common room, then you got up and said you'd forgotten your pen, and you left!"

"I did?"

"Yes! Don't you remember? Honestly, Harry!"

"No..." I'm slowly becoming more and more confused. "I don't remember at all...the only things I remember are...well, going to detention and then leaving detention. I don't remember anything in between."

"What do you mean?" she says sharply.

"I mean...I've just got this...blank spot in my memory. Up until Malfoy left."

"Really?" She's frowning now.

"Yeah...oh well, never mind. Listen, I think Malfoy mixed our wands up. I'm going to go get mine back, alright?"

"I'll go with you," she says firmly.

"I'm sure I'll be fine," I reply.

She frowns again.

"Alright," she finally says, albeit a little reluctantly.

"See you later, Hermione."

I continue on towards the Slytherin rooms.

"But Harry..." her voice floats after me and I turn around.

"Be careful!"

~*~

I reach the wall where I know the door to the Slytherin common room is located. I'm not sure where exactly it is, so I settle for a spot somewhere near the middle and bang on it.

"Hello?" I yell.

Nothing happens.

"I want to talk to Malfoy!"

After a minute, a portion of the wall slides open, revealing a more than slightly annoyed Pansy Parkinson.

She screws up her face, making her look even more like a pug than she usually does.

"Sod off, Potter," she says and the wall starts to slide shut again.

"Wait!" I shout.

The 'door' slides back open again and Pansy looks even more annoyed.

"What?"

"I need to speak to Malfoy."

"Well, he doesn't need to speak with you, Potter, so you can just fuck off."

"Creative, aren't you?" I mutter.

"What did you say?" she says sharply.

"I'll tell you if you let me speak to Malfoy?" I know it probably won't work, but I try anyway.

"Fuck off, Potter."

There's that creativity again. Time to beg.

"Please," I say through gritted teeth. "It's very important."

"Bad luck. You can't see Draco."

"Who can't see me?" a drawling voice comes from inside the room. Of course, I'm in no doubt as to whom it belongs to

Malfoy appears in the doorway, cool and unruffled as always.

"Oh, it's you," he says, his face wrinkling unpleasantly.

"Geez, don't bowl me over with enthusiasm, Malfoy," I say sarcastically.

"What do you want?" he sneers.

"To talk to you."

"So, talk. I haven't got all day."

"Without her, Malfoy," I say, pointing at Pansy. I can feel myself getting angrier.

He raises his eyebrows. "Fine," he says dispassionately. "Pansy, piss off."

She huffs, insulted, and disappears inside the common room. Malfoy steps out of the doorway and into the corridor, the door sliding shut behind him.

"What?" he says, crossing his arms and not sounding the least bit interested. I decide to be blunt since I've often been told that I have no talent for beating around the bush.

"Where's my wand?"

"What?"

"My wand," I say patiently, holding up his. "This isn't mine, so I'm assuming it's yours. I think you have mine."

"Oh," he says, sounding bored. "Is that all? Well, here it is."

He pulls it out of his pocket. I move forward to grab it and he jerks it out of my reach.

"Give me mine, Potter, and I'll give you yours."

"Fine," I say through gritted teeth, holding out his wand. He takes it and tosses mine down the corridor.

"Run along, now, Potter," he says sweetly and turns to head back through the door. I begin to walk away, but a thought suddenly flashes across my mind.

Up until Malfoy left...

"Malfoy," I begin cautiously.

"What?" he says. I can tell he's getting annoyed.

I hesitate.

"Nothing, don't worry about it."

He snorts exasperatedly and crosses his arms.

"What, Potter?"

"Nothing!"

I walk away from him, but then stop. Is it worth asking just in case?

Might as well.

"Did you do obliviate on me?"

"Sorry?" he says, uncrossing his arms.

"You heard me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, plastering innocence all over his face and layering it onto his voice.

And there's the proof. It's so obvious I'm almost sure he wants me to think he did do it.

"Why?"

He sneers.

"You really want to know?" he asks, loading on the sarcasm. "I got detention on purpose, knocked you out with a chair, polyjuiced myself into you, stole your shirt, went to Gryffindor tower, found out all your Dirty Secrets and spread false information about you. Happy?"

My mouth moves uselessly for a moment.

"I don't believe you," I manage. He steps towards the now-hidden door to the Slytherin rooms.

"Your loss," he says. "You asked; I told you. It's your fault if you don't believe me."

With that, he touches a hand to the wall. The door slides open and he disappears inside without a second glance.

After a moment, I begin to head back towards Gryffindor Tower. I try not to think about his oh-so-sarcastic statement, which in fact seems to make enough sense that it might even be true.

~*~

Well, that was interesting, I thought. Obviously my Evil Plan was more than slightly flawed. I suppose I could have performed a better obliviate spell, thus preventing Potter from suspecting anything. Or at least, that would have been the best-case scenario.

On the other hand, knowing my luck, Potter probably would have suspected something anyway.

I flung myself into my favourite chair - a dark green armchair that perfectly matches my Slytherin t-shirt - and rack my brain for the next logical step.

What did I have to work with? I drew up a list in my mind.

1. Apparently, Potter likes boys.

2. Potter's friends think he likes me.

3. Potter's friends will tease him about me.

Hmm, I thought. Difficult.

But after a minute, I was struck with a brilliant idea.

Why not give them something to tease him about?

I was, after all, outrageously sexy, and if Potter was gay he should find me irresistible. I grinned to myself. I would lead him a wonderful dance, and then crush him like an... easily crushable thing.

My new Evil Plan? Why, to seduce Harry Potter. Secretly, of course. I didn't want my impeccable reputation sullied.

And if some people thought it's already sullied... well, they were just wrong, weren't they?

~*~