Blackmail

Chapter 6

I’ve only gone out with two people in my entire life. Cho Chang in Fifth year, and Ginny in Sixth. Neither of them worked out, of course. After about a month into our relationship, Cho and I realized we were only with each other to comfort ourselves about what happened to Cedric. We broke up right after that. Ginny and I, however, dated the entire second half of Sixth year. When summer came, I stayed over at the Weasley’s for the most part. There we discovered that it just wasn’t working. We weren’t sure why, exactly. I guess we just realized that our relationship wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe she thought that I didn’t return her feelings strongly enough. Which, looking back on it now, I guess I didn’t.

I’ve never been with another boy before Draco (am I even with Draco?), but I think I might like it better than my relationships with both Cho and Ginny combined. Does that mean I’m gay? That might explain my failed relations with two girls.

Thoughts like those scare me a little. I mean, I’m weird enough as it is. I’m Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. The boy whom the whole world worships just because I got lucky when I was a baby. Everyone constantly stares at that ruddy scar on my forehead and mutters about me when my back is turned. Do I really need to give them something else to mutter about? Something that will make them think I am even more weird than I had first appeared to be?

And the simple fact that I am with Draco Malfoy of all people would be enough to cause an enormous scandal.

Speaking of Draco, he isn’t making this any easier. I don’t have the vaguest idea of how he feels about me. Why make me sleep with him in the first place? Is he actually attracted to me? I know he must’ve had a motive for starting this whole thing… but does he still have it? Maybe he’s forgotten it in the wake of all that’s been going on. Or maybe I’m completely wrong, and all of this is going according to a large scale plan he came up with for some reason. See? Like I said. I simply have no idea.

At least I stole Sirius’ letter back from him. But what about that second thing he is blackmailing me with? He hinted at it that day in the hallway, right before the second time we… uh… did it. But after that, he never mentioned it. I’ve racked my brain trying to come up with possible things that he could have over me, but so far I’ve come up with nothing.

I don’t like this feeling of not knowing. I hate being in the dark. But every time I confront Draco about what’s been going on, he always manages to change the subject with some angry words, resulting in a fight, or words that are completely opposite, resulting in a shag session.

I wish I knew what was going on. I wish I knew how Draco felt, at least.

No, forget how he feels. How can I even begin to think about Draco’s feelings when I don’t even know how I feel?

One would think that I would be completely disgusted with what he’s been doing lately. But… I’m not. Why? I don’t know.

Well, whatever I’m feeling, I know that I hate him. I mean, I’ve always hated him. However, right now, I think that hate might be just one of many feelings I have toward him. I am angry with him because of his actions, don’t get me wrong. He’s being such a sodding git over this matter.

But amidst that hatred, I think there’s something else. Something that scares me even more than the gay issue. It’s the only explanation for my recent behavior.

I wish I had someone to talk to about these feelings. I have thought about it. But there’s really no one I can confide in. Sirius is the first person I thought of, of course, but I decided that I shouldn’t bother him with this. After all, he’s concentrating on keeping a low profile. If I wanted to talk to him about something this huge, I’m sure he would feel he has to do something more than just write letters. I know he’d want to come talk to me face to face, but I can’t let him do that. There’s too great a risk of him getting discovered.

Then I thought of Hermione, but I don’t know how she would take the issue. I don’t want to put a strain on our friendship just over Malfoy.

Ron was definitely a no. I almost smirked at the thought of me talking to him about my relationship with Draco Malfoy, his worst enemy. His head would surely explode, at the very least.

There’s really no one else I could talk to. Dumbledore I thought of, also, but I knew that it would just be too awkward to talk about these things with the Headmaster.

So I’m on my own. I have to sort out my feelings by myself.

Let’s start with the whole blackmailing problem. How do I feel about that?

….Well obviously I’m annoyed at Draco doing this to me. I mean, before I slept with him that morning, I was a virgin, and I certainly didn’t expect something like that for my first time. No matter how this turns out, I’ll probably always remember that he was the one who took my virginity.

Did he know I was a virgin? I don’t know; maybe that doesn’t even matter.

Why am I not feeling more angry about this? Maybe… no. I don’t know. I guess… there must be something about it that I like, otherwise I would have tried harder to stop him from the very beginning.

Okay… deep breath… so there’s something I actually like about being with Draco? That thought is… not very comforting.

Let’s skip ahead to the Quidditch match. There must be some logical explanation for me acting the way I did. I saved Draco’s life. That means I must… care about him in some way. Or at least his well being.

Alright. So I kind of like being with him, and I don’t want to see him hurt. Maybe I-

Oh no.

I think I’ve just realized something.

No, no, no, NO!

This can’t be right! I’m just reading my feelings wrong, that’s all.

I mean, after all, there’s no way that I could…

…could I?

…I like being with Draco. I like all the touches and soft caresses, and the feel of his lips on my own. I like the feeling of sneaking away from the rest of the students into our own secluded area, be it an empty classroom or even a cramped broom closet.

And to top this all off I even cared enough about him to save his life!

If you add it all up, there’s only one thing it could mean.

It means that…

No!

It’s not possible. It’s not possible!

It’s just not possible that I…

That I…

Is it?

Is it possible that I am falling in love with Draco Malfoy?

I’m back at the Manor for Easter break. It’s going to be over a week until I see Potter again. And I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. When I started this whole thing, I never expected it to go this far. Never. But let me begin at the beginning.

Since last summer, Father has been attending secretive meetings at all hours of the night. He claimed that they were meetings for his job at the Ministry of Magic, but I suspected differently. He’d come back home in the mornings, glassy-eyed, and walk silently past the breakfast table where Mother and I were eating without giving either of us a second glance. Sometimes he was also limping, or holding onto one arm as if he was in pain. That confused me. Why would he be injured just from going to a meeting for work?

Every afternoon he locked himself in his office, only emerging to eat a small dinner. But even at the dinner table, he would act like this. He usually asked Mother and I what we had done that day, like any normal father. However, as we were answering, I could tell he wasn’t listening. He had a far-off expression in his eyes while he chewed slowly on a piece of bread. When I asked him what he had done that day, he jerked out of his stupor, averted his eyes, and nervously said, "Oh, you know, the usual."

I could tell Mother was worried. When she thought I wasn’t looking, she sneaked concerned looks in his direction, or occasionally talked to him in low, reassuring tones. She didn’t think I saw any of it, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew perfectly well what was going on.

One afternoon in August, Father was supposed to take me to Diagon Alley to shop for new school supplies. But he did not come home the night before. Mother assured me that he just had to stay late at another meeting, and told me we would have to go the next day. So I decided to go outside around three to take a short walk around the grounds. That was when I discovered my father on the path leading up to the entrance of the Manor. He was laying in a heap, bruised and bloody. That confirmed my suspicions that these so-called meetings were actually Death Eater gatherings.

It’s no secret that my father is a Death Eater. Even the Dream Team know, because of that little incident at the Quidditch World Cup back in fourth year. In fact, I suspect that he’s not only a Death Eater, but also Voldemort’s right-hand man.

The wizarding world hasn’t heard from Voldemort for the past two years. Most people thought he was gone for good. But I knew otherwise. My father had told me he had risen. So obviously, he and his Death Eaters were plotting something. Or rather, trying to plot something, because from the expressions on Father’s face, and from my discovery of him that afternoon, I could tell that they weren’t having much success. When you fail Lord Voldemort, he makes sure you pay for it.

The moment I figured this out, I knew instantly that they were trying to come up with a way to get rid of Harry bloody Potter. Harry Potter was the only thing preventing Voldemort from coming back full force. As long as the bloody sod still lives, he is a threat to the Dark Lord.

I, personally, am not a Death Eater, but like I said earlier, Father is. I knew he was suffering. And despite all the horrible things that he has done, he’s still my father and he has always been good to his family. But because of Perfect Potter, his life was being made a living hell. He didn’t deserve that. So when I went back to school, I decided that if an opportunity presented itself, I would trap Harry Potter. I would turn him over to my father, who would then hand him to Voldemort. Father’s suffering would stop, and Voldemort would reward him beyond his wildest dreams.

So I was patient. I started to watch Potter very closely, just waiting for that opening I could take advantage of. Finally, after almost half a year, that opening came. It was at breakfast one fateful morning when I spotted a lone owl flying into the Great Hall, heading toward Potter. Naturally, I was very suspicious of it. Who would be writing to Potter? He had no living wizarding relatives, and everyone knew that those Muggles he lived with never wrote to him. And if it was someone who attended Hogwarts, why wouldn’t they just come right up and talk to him?

I decided that I needed to find out what was in that letter, so I discreetly took out my wand and muttered a quick Summoning Charm, and the owl came right to me. I quickly opened the envelope and scanned what was inside. I was stunned, to say the least. It turns out that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Could Do No Wrong, was in correspondence with Sirius Black, the convicted murderer and the one who betrayed his parents. Moreover, the letter revealed that Sirius Black is actually Potter’s godfather. Now if that isn’t one screwed up family, I don’t know what is.

I didn’t stop to question the logic of all this (I’ll probably never find out the whole story, unfortunately) because I knew I had to act fast. I had to somehow use this new information against Potter. I spent the remainder of breakfast that morning coming up with and rejecting various plans. One of the better ones, and the most obvious, is that I could just tell my father what I knew about Black and where he was hiding. My father could catch him and either kill him on the spot or turn him over to Voldemort, both of which would cause Potter tremendous pain. However, it wouldn’t fix the problem at hand. Potter needed to be handed over to Voldemort, not some friend of his. And although watching Potter tear himself up over Black’s capture would be entertaining, it wouldn’t solve anything. So that plan was out.

I rested my head against my right fist, staring over at the Gryffindor table. Think, Draco, think, I told myself. As I stared at the table, I saw Lisa Turpin, a much sought after Hufflepuff, wander over to talk to Potter, while Weasley just looked on, agape. I watched amusedly as they had a very brief conversation before Turpin walked away in a huff. I smirked. Turpin was probably asking Potter out, but Potter, being the stupid idiot that he is, most likely refused. Practically every boy in the school was dying to get in her bed, (and as I’ve been there many times myself, I can see why) and Potter just completely ignored her attempts. I turned back to my own meal and scooped up a forkful of eggs, shaking my head. Saint Potter was hopeless. Seventeen years old and probably still a virgin.

The hand lifting the fork up to my mouth stopped abruptly in midair. That was it! So perfect… so simple… why hadn’t I thought of it before? What was it that my father told me once? Break their pride and you’ll have them in the palm of your hand. If I broke Potter, I could get him to do whatever I want, including succumbing to Voldemort. Sex was a very useful tool, if used correctly, especially against virgins. If Potter was coerced into losing his virginity to one of his worst enemies in such a forceful manner… he would be mine, to do with whatever I please.

However… how would I…? The thought trailed off as I set my fork down, still with the uneaten eggs on it, ignoring the strange looks Goyle was giving me. My eyes flickered around the table until they finally settled on that letter from Black. I felt the corners of my mouth curve into a slow smile as the plan completed itself. I would threaten Potter with the information contained in that letter. Either he would have sex with me, or I would turn his precious godfather into Voldemort.

I gave myself a mental pat on the back and finally ate a satisfied forkful of eggs. Ah, the wonders of blackmail…

The sooner I started this, the better. So I decided to put my idea into effect right after breakfast. I shoved him into an empty classroom and proceeded with the plan. It went smoothly, except for two things. The more startling one was that I didn’t expect to actually enjoy the whole experience.

Now, before I go on, I want to make it clear that I don’t know if I’m gay, and I don’t know if I’m straight. Before this incident, I have been with a number of both guys and girls, and I’ve enjoyed all the experiences equally. Truth be told, I never really gave this issue a thought. I was just a normal teenager having some fun.

However.

With Potter, it was entirely different. I felt something that I’ve never felt before with neither a guy or a girl… I can’t explain it. All I know is that when he touched me, a strong current of emotions that I can’t even begin to describe hit me. When he kissed me, I felt like I was complete, that I was in heaven. I can’t explain it anymore than that… I wish I could. It barely makes any sense, even to me.

The second thing I didn’t expect to occur was for Potter to give in so quickly. That doesn’t make any sense either. What does it mean? Does it mean that he discovered he likes it too?

But I’m deviating away from the story.

As soon as we finished, he fell asleep (and I couldn’t stop from curling my lip up at that; trust Potter to fall right asleep) and I left. I had intended to leave him from the beginning, so that he would wake up cold and alone, but I also left partly because I didn’t want to see him. I needed some time to think.

I didn’t attend any of my classes that day. I retired to my room to think things through. Why was I feeling this way? This was Potter after all. My worst enemy. The person I hated. I reminded myself that the only reason I’m doing this is so that my family can get back to normal. I tried to push the feelings away, I tried telling myself that I was being stupid. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

Morning came around and I was no better off. When I came up from the Slytherin dungeons, I saw Potter huddled on the bottom step of the Grand Staircase. I was delighted. Despite all the unexpected things that have happened, the plan was working after all. I strode up and taunted him about the previous night, just to rub it in. But then, the stupid git actually stood up to me! He stole Black’s letter! I no longer had any hold over him. Now what was I going to do?

I spent the next week trying to devise a new plan, but I came up with nothing. Most likely because every time I thought about Potter, my mind kept wandering back to that one morning spent with him. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his sweaty body felt against mine… how his hand left tingling skin in its wake as it trailed down my chest… how his tongue felt in my mouth….

And here’s the scary part… I wanted more of it. I wanted it badly.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I was driving myself insane!

I wanted more. To get more, I needed to come up with another way to blackmail Potter. So I did. The next morning I stopped him in the hallway before his Divination class. I told him to meet me late that night, and hinted that I had something else to blackmail him with. And that night he came to me, just like I knew he would.

The time spent together was just as good as the last, possibly even better. Afterwards, I felt the same way as I did before. And I was now certain that whatever I was feeling wasn’t going to go away.

I woke up before Potter the next morning, but I just couldn’t bring myself to leave him again. I stayed there, watching him, until he woke up. I think he was a little confused as to why I was still there (which was a plus, as confusion would add to the breaking process) but we both stayed silent. I laid next to him for a moment longer, staring into his eyes.

Have you ever stared into pure green eyes? I’m not talking about those common, ordinary bluish green eyes, but the rare, crystal clear emerald ones. That morning, I did. Potter’s eyes are like no other. They are so intense that they seem to bore right into your very soul. But they are not only that, they are… beautiful. Alright, I’ve said it. I think Potter’s eyes are beautiful.

I wonder if he ever notices my eyes. Probably not. No one ever has, but I can hardly blame them. My eyes are just a bland grey color. Not impressive at all.

At that moment, I knew I couldn’t go on like this. Every time I’m with him, I just want more. It’s unhealthy, and moreover, I can’t risk anyone finding out about it. I knew this would be the last time I would see him like this. I jerked my gaze away from his eyes as mine travelled down the length of his body, trying to memorize every curve and contour. Then I did something that surprised even me. Right before I left, I kissed him softly on the lips. It was the kind of kiss that you give someone when you say good-bye. I wondered if Potter would realize that, though.

In case you think I went soft, let me reassure you that I didn’t. I didn’t care about Potter’s feelings at all, only mine, got that? I was only concerned about myself. The situation I got myself into was not a good one, and I knew I had to get out. And I decided that from that moment on, I would have to avoid him if I was to retain a shred of sanity.

However, Potter then started acting incredibly stupid.

During Herbology, the prat actually tried to talk to me. Then, if that wasn’t enough, the next day after dinner, when I was on my way back to the Slytherin common room, he actually confronted me about what I’ve been doing. I tried to get away from him, but he kept blocking my attempts.

I don’t know how he suddenly grew this spine, but it was making me furious. How dare he think that he is the one in control of the situation? I have been, I was, and I always will be in control.

But through that confrontation, I couldn’t help but notice how… well, hot he looked. His chest was heaving with his heavy angry breaths, and his bangs were falling over his forehead, almost completely covering his scrunched up eyebrows. I felt my own breath hitch as I realized that his anger was turning me on.

I finally gave into my emotions and kissed him fiercely right there in the middle of the hallway. I regretted it afterwards, of course. So much for my resolution to stop this nonsense.

But we did seem to have come to an understanding after the kiss: that we are two rivals. We hate each other, and we always will.

From that point on, the animosity between us reached a new level. We didn’t meet in the evenings at all, and we were constantly fighting.

I thought that because of this, we could maybe get back to normal. You know, Malfoy versus Potter, Slytherin versus Gryffindor.

I was wrong.

The day before Easter break started, there was a match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. After all, it was just another way for me to kick Potter’s arse. But no, Saint Potter had to do something that will be sure to keep people muttering about it for weeks to come. Saint Potter had to go and save my life!

How thick could one person get? A year ago, Potter would have let that Bludger hit me. That slip up probably caused several people to question the rivalry between us. They might begin to suspect something.

So I, of course, had to rectify the situation.

Hours later, I spotted the Snitch just past his head. Everyone knows that Slytherins do anything to achieve their goals. So I distracted him with a few well-placed words, and it worked. I caught the Snitch. I beat Harry Potter. And hopefully that would prevent people from asking why Potter saved me.

After dinner, we fought yet again. And I was still turned on by his anger. So I figured, what the hell, this will be the last time we see each other for a week, so I… well, suggested that we make use of what time we have left, and went into a small storage room. He followed me, and we slept together again that night.

And here I am.

So that’s the story. It’s bloody confusing if you ask me.

Harry Potter is making my life miserable, yet I am still attracted to him. Every time I see him, I notice something new about his features that I haven’t seen before. For example, I noticed one day a while ago at breakfast that he has a lopsided smile. The left half of his mouth curls up just a little farther than the right half. It’s very subtle, and you wouldn’t notice it unless you were paying extremely close attention.

Which I guess I was doing, unfortunately.

It’s been about a month. And things are not getting any better. Sometimes I wish that I hadn’t been so devoted to my family, that I hadn’t tried to come up with a plan to capture Potter.

Taking this time to look back on my behavior made me discover something. I realized that there’s only one explanation for my odd behavior, for all the pain and confusion, and longing that I’ve been feeling.

Of course, if I were questioned about this, I will deny it. Especially to him.

The truth is… God, I can’t believe I’m about to say this. It just doesn’t make any sense. I mean, Potter’s supposed to be my mortal enemy! He’s not someone I should be having these… feelings about!

Okay, Draco… you can do it. Just say it. Once. To make sure that what you’re feeling is real.

God, this is something out of a horror story…

Damn it, just admit it, you bloody wuss!

Okay, okay!

The truth is…

The truth is… I think I am falling in love with Harry Potter.

I know, we still don’t find out what the second thing is that Draco is blackmailing Harry with, I’m sorry. But I’ve got to keep some suspense going on! It’s been a while since I talked about it, so if can’t remember anything about it for the life of them, see chapter 3. Also, I believe that in canon, Lucius in an emotionally abusive father. But for the purpose of this story, he works better as someone who loves his family.