Blackmail

Chapter 3

A week passed. Malfoy hadn’t made any kind of a move, and it was making Harry nervous. So he had taken to watching the Slytherin very closely. Before he knew it, he was unconsciously seeking out that silvery head of hair at mealtimes, on weekends, and in the crowded halls between classes. It was only after Hermione brought it to his attention one day, that he realized what he was doing.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

Harry, who had just been scanning the throng of people in the hall, snapped his head around to look at her. "What do you mean? I’m not doing anything."

"You’ve been constantly watching crowds of people for a few days now. Whenever I’m talking to you, you always look like you’re a million miles away."

Harry’s eyes widened. "I do?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes, you do, Harry, and it’s getting kind of annoying. Are you searching for someone?"

He gulped and mentally kicked himself. "No, I’m not. Sorry, Hermione, I don’t know what’s come over me. I’ll try not to do that anymore."

She nodded, but looked skeptically at him.

You’re being stupid, Harry, he scolded himself later, when he was walking up towards the Divination room with Ron. You can’t spend all of your time worrying about-

He stopped mid-thought. Draco Malfoy had just stepped out of the shadows, eyes glinting in the semi-darkness of the corridor

Ron stopped dead in his tracks. "Malfoy," he said coolly.

"Hello, Weasel," he said, taking another step forward.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked warily.

A slow smile spread across Malfoy’s face. "You sure you want me to answer that in front of the Weasel?"

Harry flushed.

Ron gazed quizzically between the two of them, and decided to take matters into his own hands. "Malfoy, we have a class to get to, so if you would just get your sorry arse out of the way…"

Malfoy chuckled quietly. "I don’t think so. Besides, Weasley, this matter does not concern you. I want to talk to Potter. Alone."

Ron’s brow drew together and he frowned angrily. "Malfoy-"

"It’s okay, Ron," Harry interrupted. He looked straight at Malfoy. "He and I have to talk."

Ron looked confused. "But… Harry…" he lowered his voice. "Are you sure you want to be left alone with Malfoy?"

Harry gave a small, but bitter laugh. "I’ve faced worse, Ron. Just go on ahead. I’ll be up in a minute," he said, putting emphasis on that last word. "One minute." He looked at his rival. "You understand that, Malfoy?"

Malfoy acknowledged Harry with a small nod of his head.

Ron, still looking troubled, walked away and ascended the stairs into the Divination classroom.

"Seems rather protective of you," Malfoy commented when Ron was out of earshot. "Are you two fucking each other?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "What the hell is wrong with you, anyway? No, wait, don’t answer that. I don’t think all the aspects of that answer can be covered in only one minute."

Malfoy scowled. "Funny. Very funny."

"I’m not here to be funny. What did you want to talk about? I have a class I’m about to be late for, you know."

"As do I, in case you’re forgetting. So I’ll make this quick."

Malfoy stepped closer, and Harry’s breath quickened. "M-make what quick?" he asked nervously. Malfoy’s face was now barely an inch away from Harry’s.

"My message, of course," he said. Malfoy moved closer to Harry… and Harry’s feet were oddly rooted to the spot, unable to move as Malfoy brought his lips nearer to his own.

Harry could smell his minty breath, and his eyes started to flicker shut as Malfoy’s mouth loomed ever closer, and closer, till it finally… narrowly avoided his lips to brush tantalizingly over one cheek. Harry’s eyes flew open in surprise at the light touch. He heard Malfoy’s voice whisper softly in his ear: "Meet me in the deserted third floor corridor tonight. At eleven."

"Why? Why should I? You’ve got nothing over me now that I have Sirius’ letter."

Draco gave a small laugh. "Are you sure about that?"

Then with a brush of his cloak, he was gone, and Harry was left feeling strangely cold.

* * *

Should I go? It was the question Harry kept asking himself through Divination class, lunch, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts and dinner, until finally he was in the Gryffindor common room, hunched over a desk with homework that he hadn’t even touched.

"Something the matter, mate?" Ron asked as he took a seat next to his friend.

"What?" he asked confusedly, looking at Ron.

"You look distracted."

"Oh. I guess it’s just this homework. It’s really puzzling me," he lied.

"Too bad. D’you want to take a break and play Exploding Snap with me?"

"No, no, that’s okay. I should get this done."

"Okay…" Ron said slowly, still looking uneasy. "Are you sure nothing’s bothering you? Was it something Malfoy said to you today before Divination?"

Harry started at the mention of Malfoy’s name. "Malfoy?" he kind of squeaked. "No, this doesn’t have anything to do with Malfoy."

"Harry-"

"I’m tired," he said suddenly. "I think I’m going to take a nap for a bit." Harry closed his books and headed for the staircase.

"Alright, Harry. Take care," Ron called after him.

Once in the Boy’s Dormitories, Harry sat heavily down on his bed and pulled the scarlet hangings around himself. Alright. Concentrate. He just needed to concentrate.

Should I go, or shouldn’t I? He asked himself for the thousandth time since that morning. Well, if he didn’t go, Malfoy might just get the hint and leave him alone… as unlikely as that may be. He would probably just get furious with Harry, and think up something worse to torture him with.

So not going at all isn’t a good idea. But if I do go… Harry sighed and laid back on the bed, one arm thrown across his face. "Why Malfoy?" he murmured to himself. It just doesn’t add up. How could one of his worst enemies be attracted to him?

But what was up with that thing Malfoy had said? Are you sure about that? Did Malfoy come up with another way to blackmail him?

Harry rested in silence for a long while, listening to the tick-tock of his watch. He wasn’t sure how long he was really laying there, but soon he heard the door open and his roommates come in, all talking happily to each other as they started to change into their pajamas. Then, with a couple good night’s shouted across the room, the lamp flickered off and all was quiet again. Harry was silent throughout the whole thing, not wanting to be bothered with questions from Ron and anybody else who might’ve witnessed him run up to the room earlier that evening.

Then he heard the clock in the common room chime. Harry sat up. It was eleven o’clock. He needed to make his decision, and fast.

He pushed the hangings aside, stood up, and quietly paced around the room. If Malfoy did have a new way of blackmailing him, he didn’t want to take any chances, that was for sure. Lord knows he had too many secrets. The last thing he wanted was for them to get out.

Harry heaved a deep breath as he reached the door. Either he went, and could possibly get some answers to all of this, or he didn’t go and would be left in the dark while Malfoy told everyone a secret of his that he had somehow found out. It wasn’t much of a choice, really. So it was decided. He would meet Malfoy tonight.

But only to ask him what this is all about, he resolved. Only because I want to know why he’s doing this.

He reached out with one hand, twisted the doorknob, and slowly eased the door open with a soft creak. Harry stepped out into the hall and shut the door quietly, careful not to wake any of his roommates. It was all he needed for them to be asking where he was going at eleven o’clock at night.

After a few minutes of cautiously walking through the castle, he finally reached the now deserted third floor corridor. Harry stopped stared at the trapdoor for a long moment. Was there some significance in Draco choosing this location to meet? Does he even know what this room housed, seven long years ago?

Harry stiffened as he felt a pair of arms encircle his waist from behind, and someone’s hot breath against his ear. Malfoy.

"I knew you would come," his soft voice whispered throatily. Then Harry completely forgot is resolution to keep this meeting strictly verbal. Because at that moment, Malfoy’s lips descended upon his own, and all rational thought flew from his mind.