Blackmail

Chapter 4

Harry woke up in practically the same circumstances as before. Laying naked on the cold stone floor with a stream of light peeking in through the window… Only there was one major difference: Draco was still there. He was laying beside him, in fact, propped up on one elbow, simply staring at him.

Harry turned his head and stared at Draco, who looked back at him unemotionally. Emerald eyes bore into silver eyes in a silent clash of wills. Surprisingly, the silver eyes were the first to blink and break the contact. They roamed down Harry, looking like they were taking in every curve of his body. Harry shivered and turned away from the scrutiny of Draco’s gaze, not even bothering to try to cover himself.

He closed his eyes as he heard the shuffling of Draco getting up and putting on his robes. A door creaked open, but then there was a long pause.

He opened his eyes in confusion, and saw Draco kneeling beside him. He lifted his head and opened his mouth to say something, but Draco hushed him by putting a finger over Harry’s mouth. Draco then leaned down and gently replaced his finger with his lips, giving Harry the first soft kiss he’d ever had from him.

Draco abruptly broke away and stood up. They stared at each other for a second more before Draco, with a brush of his cloak, turned and walked out of the door.

Harry leaned back and released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

* * *

That afternoon was Herbology. There, the Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh years were busy repotting tookulous plants that had grown far too large for their small pots. Purely by coincidence, Harry and Draco were both assigned at the same station, along with a few other students.

The two boys worked side by side in silence for a few moments, while the students around them chatted happily about the Easter break coming up soon. Harry looked at Draco out of the corner of his eye. The Slytherin was hunched over his potting area, intently shoving a wiggling plant into one of the large pots. As Harry watched, a small strand of blond hair broke free from the hair gel and fell across his eyes. Harry thought that look was vaguely endearing.

Endearing? Where the hell did THAT come from? Angry with himself, Harry narrowed his brow started to furiously repot the plants. But he soon found himself sneaking quick peeks at the other boy.

After a half an hour, Draco still hadn’t looked up from his work, and Harry was getting irritated. "God… you won’t even look at me," he murmured angrily under his breath, not really expecting an answer from Draco.

"And why, pray tell, would I be looking at you, Potter?" Draco said, surprising him with a reply. His voice emotionless and so low that Harry had to strain to hear it.

"Because of what’s been happening with us, of course," Harry snapped quietly.

Draco’s expression darkened. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Potter."

Harry jerked his head up and looked at Draco quizzically. Draco drew his head up and stared coldly at him. "There’s nothing going on between us," he finished.

"Of course there is, Mal-"

"Absolutely nothing," he repeated firmly, glaring at the Gryffindor. "Understood?"

Harry scowled and Draco took his silence as a ‘yes.’

"Good. Now get back to work. People are staring," he said, ending the conversation.

Harry raised his eyes and saw that the students around them were indeed gazing curiously at their heated conversation, most of them probably waiting for a fight to break out. Harry frowned.

Well what else would they expect besides a fight between Malfoy and I?

He asked himself. That’s all we’ve been doing for seven long years. Fighting. But now… now we’re doing the exact opposite. Harry gulped. And I really don’t know which one I like better.

* * *

Harry discreetly stared at Draco the next night during dinner. I’m not gazing at his good looks, he told himself. Like his silvery light blond hair… or the way his eyes crinkle up at the corners when he laughs… or the way his slightly disheveled robes somehow adds to his character… or… Harry mentally slapped himself. I’m not staring at his good looks, he repeated silently. I’m just wondering if he’ll look over here at dinner. Like he used to do. It was true. Even though the look that he usually gave Harry was pure animosity, Draco had always looked over at the Gryffindors at least once during all mealtimes. If Harry was asked why he thought Draco did that seven years ago, two years ago, or even last month, Harry would have answered that he was simply keeping watch on the enemy. After all, Harry often had to do that himself.

But as of late, after that first incident, Harry noticed that Draco had been glancing over more and more. And if Harry was asked that question a week ago, he would have had to respond with an answer that was entirely different.

But over the past two days… Draco seemed to have came down with a case of Harry-phobia. He had not looked at him once after that last kiss they had shared the previous morning, unless he was forced to.

Harry frowned in thought. That last soft kiss… it had seemed like almost a goodbye kiss. I don’t understand, he thought irritably. And Draco wasn’t making it any easier. It was nearing the end of dinner and Draco had not once looked in his direction.

That’s it

, Harry resolved. I’m getting some answers, I don’t care what the price is. I’m getting answers.

After dinner, Harry followed Draco out of the Great Hall and into the cold dungeons.

"Malfoy!" he called.

Draco turned around and scowled when he saw who it was. "What is it, Potter?"

"You know exactly what it is," he told Draco as he drew closer. "In fact, you’re the one who started it."

"Oh yeah? Well I’m the one who is going to finish it, too. Just leave me the hell alone," Draco snarled and started to walk away.

But Harry was quicker. He grabbed the collar of Draco’s robes and slammed him up against the wall. He glowered at Draco, who stared at him with wide eyes.

"I’m getting sick of this, Malfoy."

"You’re not the only one, Potter," Draco snapped, averting his eyes and struggling furiously to free himself of Harry’s strong grip.

"Then why won’t you give me some answers?!"

"Because I have no idea what’s going on!" Draco finally exploded. "Don’t you understand that I have no answers to give you? Why can’t you just let things be?"

They gazed at each other silently for a long moment. At last, Harry said lowered his arms and said quietly, "I don’t understand why you started this in the first place. That’s all I want to know right now. Can’t you at least tell me that?"

Draco hesitated and straightened the collar of his robes, before finally saying, "No."

Why the hell not?

Harry thought angrily, but restrained himself before he yelled at him again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "I think that I, of all people, deserve to know."

Draco stayed silent, his eyes darting from Harry, to the passageway to the Slytherin common room, and back.

Harry sighed. "Well what about the second time the night before last? You still haven’t told me what you were blackmailing me with."

Draco sneered. "And I’m not going to."

Harry frowned, trying to think of a way to somehow convince Draco to tell him what he needed to know. But as Draco glanced toward the entrance to Slytherin House for the tenth time in about a minute, Harry realized something.

My presence is making him uncomfortable.

That was a new one. Usually, Draco was the one who made Harry feel uncomfortable. But this time it was the other way around. And it gave Harry an idea. He could very well use this situation to his advantage.

Harry took a small step closer to Draco, closing the small distance between them. He smirked as Draco unconsciously tried to take step backward, but bumped into the wall. Harry raised a hand and rested a finger underneath the other boy’s chin, lifting his face up slightly, noticing that Draco’s breath hitched as he felt Harry’s gentle touch. Draco finally met his gaze for the first time in several days and Harry drew in a sharp breath as he stared into the silvery eyes, surprised at the emotion he saw in them.

Harry swallowed hard, and whispered, "I would like very much for you to explain a few things to me."

Draco gulped, still gazing into Harry’s emerald eyes. "I can’t," he croaked out finally.

"Why not?"

"Potter, why can’t you just shut up and let me kiss you already?" he finally burst out.

Harry, taken aback at what he just heard, widened his eyes and stared at the Slytherin. Draco seemed surprised at himself for what he just said, but soon he composed himself and his gaze darkened. "Yeah, just shut up. You think you’re in charge here, don’t you? Well let me tell you something, Potter, I am the one in control, and don’t you forget that," he snapped angrily at Harry.

Harry glared at Draco. "I don’t think so, Malfoy. I-"

"I tried to get away as soon as this bloody conversation started, but you wouldn’t let me," Draco cut in angrily, advancing on Harry and jabbing a finger into his chest. Harry found himself mechanically moving backward as Draco drew closer. "You just had to whine and complain about how you need answers. Well here’s an answer for you, Potter. I will do whatever I damn well please. I can ignore you if I want, and I can kiss you if I want," he continued as Harry finally backed into the wall on the other side of the hallway.

Draco took a deep breath and continued quietly. "I’ve tried to fight it over the last two days. But I’m tired of trying to convince myself otherwise. And I’ve decided right now, Potter, that I want to kiss you."

And before Harry could stop him, Draco pressed his cold lips against Harry’s. The Gryffindor didn’t move for a short minute, but then started to respond with equal intensity, his mouth devouring Draco’s.

Harry felt himself being lost in Draco’s warm embrace and fierce kisses. As Draco’s tongue started forcing it’s way inside his mouth, Harry opened his lips to welcome an even more passionate kiss. The two boys clutched tightly at each other as their tongues duelled.

Draco’s hands wandered up his arms, over his shoulders, until they came to rest tangled in his hair. Harry sighed and he felt Draco’s lithe fingers run through his hair, making it even messier than before.

But as Draco gave a great yank on his hair, Harry gave a shout and pulled away. "It IS attached, you know."

"Shut up," Draco murmured, dragging Harry down to him and capturing his lips once more. Harry melted against the other boy and moaned quietly as he felt their arousals rub together. Before Harry knew what he was doing, he was unbuttoning Draco’s robes and forcing his hands inside them, running his hands along his bare chest.

Draco abruptly pulled away, earning a cry of protest from Harry. Harry opened his eyes wide, and stared at the Slytherin with his mouth half-open and swollen from the intense kissing, and his breathing was ragged.

Draco swallowed hard and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Did you like that, Potter?" his voice came out as a menacing whisper that echoed eerily in the silent dungeon halls.

Harry stayed silent, trying to catch his breath.

"I know you did," he continued. "Don’t try to deny it."

"So what if I did, Malfoy?" Harry finally responded irritably. "What would it matter if I did say that I liked kissing you? It wouldn’t change anything between us."

To Harry’s surprise, Draco nodded. "You’re right, it wouldn’t."

"Because we still hate each other, and we probably always will."

"Exactly, Potter," Draco leaned closer and their lips brushed together once, gently. "And don’t you forget it."