Harry And Draco Chronicles

The owl awoke and stared up at him, her alert and bright eyes following his every move. Thinking he was dreaming, Harry closed his eyes tightly, sure that when he opened them she would not be there. A flicker of annoyance flashed in the owl’s tiny eyes as she spread her wings, signally for him to rid her of the package tied around her legs.

The sight of her sitting there reminded Harry so much of the past. Oh the past, he thought. He was then taken back to several months before at Hogwarts, when the owl’s appearance on his bed was frequent. It seemed to take him forever to dash up all those flights of stairs to the Gryffindor Tower after his lessons, wishing the corridors were bigger so he could easily make his way around the other students; who always seemed to walk slower on days he expected a delivery. And every other day, true to form, the eagle owl would be on his bed; sometimes ravaging his pillows with her sharp claws to show her anger for having to wait for him.

Harry would often barricade himself in the safe enclosure of his bed curtains, as he read what Draco had written. His eyes would slowly wash over the letters, trying not to skip a single word, as the blonde went into detail about his daily activities.

From the letters, Harry learned that Draco's days were spent mostly at Malfoy Manor. A powerful wizard, a man long renowned as a premiere expert on Dark Arts, tutored the blonde in the manor’s library.

Draco's life now revolved around learning curses, and practicing quidditch on the family’s massive pitch. His father was no doubt determined to have his son be a star quidditch player when he transferred to Durmstrang in the fall.

Also occupying the blonde's time was attending the numerous "charity" functions his parents threw at their estate - the balls that Harry would read about in the Daily Prophet during breakfast. A grimace spread on Harry's face, as he thought how the money raised as these balls often went to aid Voldemort.

The green-eyed boy had cut out pictures from the Daily Prophet that featured Draco – whose image gave Harry a half smile when his parents weren’t looking. But the photographs were all gone now, as the bag they were stored in was discarded into the bin by his aunt. The argument that had ensued that day between Harry and his aunt was the cause of his dramatic weight loss that summer.

Harry approached the bed and sat down next to the owl. He reached out to smooth her ruffled feathers, but hesitated. He was quick to learn that she was not so fond of his touch, as when his fingers were greeted by her sharp beak during her first initial visit to him.

As Harry's hand hovered nervously over her head, the owl gave out an ear-piercing squawk that startled him; she clearly did not want to stay any longer. The young man's hands cautiously made their way to her legs, weary of her claws. When he cut the package from the bird's legs, she hopped to the window, gave him one last look and flew away.

*************

Draco stood by the large open windows of his bedroom, pacing back and forth and casting a watchful eye towards the night sky. He began to wring his hands as he wondered if his owl had made her journey all right. But the thing most on his mind was whether his father would be awake at that very hour and witness her return. Lucius would surely become suspicious as to why his son was sending mail in the wee hours of the morning.

Draco was about to close his windows and go back to bed, when he saw her gliding through the night air, her long wings flapping effortlessly. She flew into his room and landed on his bed. When he tried to touch her, she moved away from him; the glare was evident in her eyes.

The blonde reached into the top drawer of his nightstand and grabbed a few owl treats. Stretching out his hand to her, Draco watched as her eyes darted from his face, to the treats and back again. She finally succumbed, as her hunger forced her to approach him. When he attempted to pet her, she snapped at him, before flying away once more. He watched as she headed left to the manor’s lush orchards, where she liked to hunt for rabbits or any other small animal she could catch.

Pulling himself onto his large four-poster bed, Draco brought the satin sheets about his body. He breathed a sigh of relief as he thought of the trouble he had gone through to get the present to Harry. A smile crept onto his face, thinking how at that very moment Harry would be opening the small box that contained his gift - which was by no account measly in price. To afford the handcrafted watch, Draco had to ask his father for an increase in his already hefty allowance. Hearing that the money was to be used to buy Pansy Parkinson a necklace, Lucius was more than happy to give his son all the money he wanted and allowed the blonde access to his owl once more.

Draco held his breath when he heard footsteps approaching his room. Thinking his father was checking up on him, he silently scurried to close his windows. These late night surveillance checks had now become a regular in the boy’s life, ever since a staff member caught him sneaking out of the house to Hogsmeade.

The footsteps stopped by his door, paused and then scampered away. Draco knew it was not his father; it must have been their young love struck house-elf, who liked to sneak into his room late at night. He had often been startled when he awoke at night to find her standing by his bed, her large eyes staring at him.

As he lay back on his bed, his heavy eyelids began to drop. A contented smile crept onto his lips as he drifted off to sleep. His plan was working out perfectly; he was finally able to communicate with Harry and soon they would be meeting each other for the first time in months.

**********

Harry did not sleep at all that night; the events of a few hours ago had excited him too much. Although his face showed the tell tale signs of fatigue, he was feeling unusually refreshed. He got up from the bed and began to flit around the room, collecting his things.

As he hummed a tone to himself, he was startled to feel a hand running down the length of his back. He turned around and stared into Ginny’s brown eyes. She greeted him with her usual smile and embraced him. Being in such a delightful mood himself, he responded wholeheartedly to her touch.

She looked up him, a tinge of surprise on her face. “You seem to be in good spirits this morning.”

“I had a good night,” he responded in a chirpy voice.

The smile on her face got wider. “So did I.” Her hands moved to his back and trickled down to the back pockets of his jeans. “You were great last night,” she whispered, her eyes still glistening with pleasure from their late night tryst.

Harry pulled away from her when he realized that their car would be coming to take them to King’s Cross station in a few minutes. “I have to take a shower before we leave,” he said. After taking his toiletries out of his trunk, he began to undress.

As he pulled the jeans down his hips, he turned around to find Ginny leaning against the wall, her eyes glued to his body. Although they’ve had sex on several occasions, she had never seen the full extent of his naked body; the darkness and the bed sheets had always hindered her view.

“Why don’t you go down stairs and have your breakfast,” he suggested, hoping she would take the hint and give him some privacy.

“I’ve already had it.”

His hands stayed frozen on his jeans, as her eyes paralyzed him. “I kinda feel uncomfortable with you staring at me like that,” he finally said, realizing that she did not respond well to subtlety.

“Why are you so shy? You weren’t shy last night.” She moved from her perch and walked up to him, placing a light kiss on his cheek. Ever so slowly, she made her way out of the room, looking back every now and then to get a glimpse of his flesh.

********

The train ride to Hogwarts was a rather subdued affair, devout of the chattering and commotion over lost toads that had been prevalent in the previous years.

Ron entered their compartment, carrying an armful of chocolates and other sweets. He dropped the candy onto the seat. "It looks like less students are returning to school this year," he said as he tore into a chocolate frog package. "I guess Dumbledore's letters about taking extra security measures against You-Know-Who weren't convincing enough."

He took his seat next to Hermione. "Our compartment is the only full one on the whole train. The other ones are either empty or have one or two people in them."

"How many people are actually here?" asked Hermione, as she picked at the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, trying not to get any vomit flavored ones like last time.

"Most of the Gryffindors have made it back, like I had predicted. There are some Puffs and Ravenclaws around, but there's hardly any Slytherins. I've only spotted a handful of them." He snorted loudly. "They've probably all transferred to Durmstrang to train to be good little Death Eaters."

He grabbed a handful of Hermione's beans and popped them into his mouth. "But I don't know why everyone's so afraid to come to school. You-Know-Who is always sending out empty threats. "

"Ron," whispered Hermione from the corner of her mouth, "I don't think we should be talking about this."

The redhead apparently didn't hear her and continued with his banter. "It's not like he's going to make the school explode--"

Hermione elbowed him sharply in the ribs. She leaned close to his ear and uttered in a hushed voice, "Don't talk about stuff like that in front of Harry."

Harry continued looking out the window, watching as the green landscape whizzed by. He had been only half listening to Ron and Hermione’s conversation. Normally such talk of Voldemort would have put him in a dour mood - his thoughts echoing with images of himself being bludgeoned to death, as Voldemort had promised - but today was different. He reached into his pocket and fingered the cool metal object that lay there, feeling the rhythmic ticking as it thumped against his fingertips.

Ginny pressed her body against his and placed her hand on his thigh. He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes as her fingers flickered along his leg. But he soon flinched when her fingers got uncomfortable close to his crotch.

He looked down at the beaming smile she bestowed on him. He forced his lips into a grin and then quickly turned his head.

Her hand rose to his cheek as she directed his gaze towards her once more. His attention fully on her, she mouthed, "I love you."

He pulled away from her, as he grew uncomfortable by her show of sentiment. He looked away before her longing eyes could plead with him to repeat those same endearments to her.

As the onslaught of her stare became unrelenting, Harry got up from his seat. "Excuse me, I have to go to the restroom." But he didn't go to the restroom; he decided to take a stroll around the train. As he passed countless compartments, he saw many familiar Gryffindor faces and even spotted a rare Slytherin, who greeted him with a glare.

As he walked by, he overheard a group of first years as they excitedly talked amongst themselves. A pained expression crossed his face as he observed them; those days of feeling carefree were long gone for him.

Making sure that no one else was around, Harry pulled out his new pocket watch and admired it. Made of silver and trimmed with gold, it was able to tell him the time in any given country at that moment. Although the silver trinket was an exquisite piece of craftsmanship, it was made much more precious to him because of its sender.

As he walked back to join his friends, Ginny grabbed him by the hips and pushed him against the wall. "I knew you weren't going to the restroom,” she said. “You just said that to fool Ron and Hermione, didn't you?"

He shook his head absentmindedly, thinking how he had actually tried to escape her and her enormous need for constant physical contact. He forced a smile on his face as he looked down at her.

The warmth of her body soon swamped him as her hands encircled his waist. She rested her head against his chest and fingered the buttons on his shirt. “You make me so happy,” she murmured, in a contented voice. “I think it was fate that brought us together; you were fretting over finals and I just happened to be there to console you.”

Harry’s thoughts took him back to that fateful night in the common room where she had found him in front of the fireplace. However, the cause of his grief was not his finals; his blotched meeting with Draco was what consumed him, causing him to brood in his favorite chair.

Harry looked down at the auburn haired girl with some fondness as he remembered how she had gone to great lengths to alleviate his distress that night, even giving him a massage.

Ginny’s hand rose to Harry’s neck as she began to play with his necklace. “Did you show Ron and Hermione your new gift?” she asked, lifting the chain a few inches from his neck to admire it.

“Not yet.” He had suddenly gotten a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of how Ron would react to the sight of the thick gold chain – he hadn’t tucked the necklace inside his shirt for nothing.

Ginny released the chain from her grasp and looked up at him, happiness twinkling in the depths of her eyes. “It was really romantic when we made love under the stars, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Harry uttered slowly. The massage she had given him that night brought about his immediate arousal, which later caused them to venture to the astronomy tower.

The auburn haired girl bit down on her lip. “You don’t think I’m a slag for sleeping with you so quickly, do you?”

He lowered his head and brought his lips down on her forehead. “No,” he muttered against her skin, “I don’t think that.” Although he did not judge her actions nor think disrespectfully of her, he cursed himself for not having more control over his desires that night. That one single act of lust had permanently sealed him in Ginny’s eyes as her boyfriend. From that night on, she became persistent in pursuing a relationship with him.

Harry was brought back to the present when he felt Ginny kissing him. From the corner of his eyes, he could see several giggling Hufflepuffs poking their head out their compartment to stare at them. Never one for public displays of affection, Harry quickly pulled away.

“I think we should be getting back,” he said. He put his arm around her shoulders and led her back to their compartment.

***********

Harry looked at himself in the mirror, inspecting the way the green silk shirt draped his body. Draco had been right; the garment did bring out his eyes. He buckled the belt around the trousers that Draco had sent him, although he thought they were a bit snug. He knelt down, trying to stretch them out, but they seemed to grow tighter on him, going into every crevice. These clothes had never seen the light of day, as they were kept confined in the same package Draco had sent them in.

He began to run his fingers though his hair, which was more manageable due to the spell he had used earlier that night. Satisfied with his appearance, he walked downstairs, all the while tugging and pulling at the trousers.

In the common room, he settled into his favorite chair in front of the fireplace. He shot a nervous glance towards the staircase when he heard a creaking noise, wondering who else could be awake at one in the morning. He leaned forward in his chair to get a better look at the stairs, but only saw darkness. Convinced he was alone, he turned his attention once more to his locks, but not because it was messy; he simply needed something to do with his jittery hands as he awaited the arrival of the other boy.

When he looked back at the fireplace, he nearly jumped out of his seat; he was no longer alone. Draco’s face was now staring back at him from the fire. Although Harry’s heart was pounding against his chest, he sat still as the other boy’s eyes washed over him. The stare that he received from the blonde was intense, burning into him and making him feel uneasy.

Harry scratched his head and looked away for a moment, casting nervous glances up at the other boy. He was able to see that Draco had changed so much in the past couple of months. The blonde’s face was a lot fuller than the last time they had seen one another. The pale and sickly appearance that was present on their last night together was now replaced with a healthy glow. The red and yellow flames flickering around Draco’s head cast a jewel-toned hue to his creamy complexion. Harry also noticed that the other boy’s hair had grown longer, now coming to his shoulders and obscuring the right side of Draco’s face.

Harry straightened his shirt collar and ran his hands down the legs of his trousers in a vain attempt to get Draco to comment on his appearance. He glanced up to see if the blonde was watching; he was, but he did not utter a word.

The uncomfortable silence loomed between them for what seem like an eternity. Harry racked his brain for something to say, but all words had escaped him at that time.

“You’re in a lot of danger,” Draco finally said, his voice deep and husky. His face was rigid and serious as he looked at the green-eyed boy. “Voldemort has been meeting with the Death Eaters and they’ve come up with a plan to kill you.”

What else is new, thought Harry. He’d been inundated with threats that summer; a day hadn’t gone by when a raven didn’t show at his aunt and uncle’s doorstep, bearing a death threat.

Draco drew his brows together as he eyed the placid expression on Harry’s face. Draco gave Harry a few minutes to respond, thinking that the green-eyed boy needed some time to digest the information. When the calm on the other boy’s face persisted, Draco grew frustrated. “Harry, did you hear what I said?”

“Yes, I heard you,” Harry responded, in a voice that was almost unconcerned. He lowered his head as his finger began to trace the patterns on the armchair.

“Then why are you so calm?” Draco nearly shouted. Realizing that he might awake some of the other students, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “This is a very serious threat here. They have been gathering at the Manor and have laid out their plans to ambush you. They’re planning their attack for around Christmas.” Draco dropped his head, his hair blocking his face from Harry’s view. “You should really be careful,” he murmured in a muffled voice. “If something happened to you…”

“Don’t worry,” Harry reassured him, “I’ll be fine.” A tinge of concern was now evident on Harry’s face – not from the fear of being killed by Voldemort, but for the distress that he heard in Draco’s voice. “I’ll give Dumbledore the information immediately. And thanks for—“ Harry suddenly stopped talking. “How do you know about this plan? Aren’t you at Durmstrang?”

“Yes. But my father keeps me updated on all the latest happenings.”

“Oh, I see.” As both boys grew quiet once more, a question loomed in the back of Harry’s mind; he had been thinking about it for several months now. He had been too shy at the beginning of their conversation to say anything about it, but he now opened his mouth and asked, “How come you didn’t meet me at Hogsmeade?” Before Draco could answer, he added quickly, “And I just want to let you know that I’m not angry at you for not showing up.”

If truth were told, Harry was more disappointed than anything else. He had spent an exorbitant amount of time picking the hotel and making sure the room was decorated with the right accoutrements that would be conducive to romance and a night of love making.

“I did attempt to meet you,” Draco replied, “but I got caught. When my father found out about me sneaking out, he took away my owl. I just got her back the night I sent you the birthday—“ The blonde abruptly stopped talking and looked over his shoulder. He then began to talk to someone that Harry could not see.

Harry leaned forward in his chair so he could hear what Draco was saying, but the blonde was talking in a low voice. Draco then faced him once more. “Harry, I have to get going. I can’t talk anymore.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but hesitated. “It was nice seeing you again,” the blonde finally said in a weak voice.

Harry wanted to say something back to the other boy, but he found himself unable to talk and wound up staring blankly at him. He looked down as he tried to get the courage to say what he was feeling in his heart. When he gazed up at the fire, Draco was gone.

Harry remained seated in his chair a long time afterwards, hoping that the other boy would return. But Draco never did. His hands curled into a fist and he brought it down on the arm of his chair, as he regretted not having spoken in time. He lowered his head and brought his hand to his face, thinking of how he would just have to wait for another meeting to express his feelings to the other boy.