A Slytherin in Gryffindor Clothing

Chapter 6

Draco lavished the nob of skin with his tongue for the hundredth time as the morning light slowly filtered in through the curtains Hermione had placed on her window.

"You don't have to do that," Harry said tentatively.

Glancing up briefly at Harry's face, Draco shook his head. "That's all right. I want to do it."

A few more minutes passed with Draco licking and nibbling before Harry sighed. "There are other spots that might appreciate your attention more." He stretched and kicked the covers off, just in case Draco didn't get the point of his remark and needed visuals.

"I'm fine where I am."

Exasperated and more than a bit confused Harry shifted, moving the object of Draco's fascination out of his reach.

"Draco - it's just an elbow."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Potter. It's not just an elbow."

"Looks like an elbow to me."

Clasping Harry's arm, Draco pulled it back into reach of his mouth. "It's your elbow. Part of you. A part of you that I intend to conquer." His tongue flicked out to lap at the skin. "I want to taste it, feel it, absorb it until it's part of me."

Draco blew on the skin his mouth had just wetted, then glanced at Harry's face.

"It will be mine so completely, that you will never forget it. When you bang your elbow, when you wash it in the shower, when you lean on it at your desk, there will be the constant memory that it belongs to me.

And I won't stop at your elbow. I plan to sweep down your arm, and advance on the bones of your wrist. Each finger, your palm, the pad of your thumb, will be new territory to subdue to my will."

Draco's pale fingers skimmed over Harry, tracing the path created by his words. "Then I'll move up your arm, attacking your shoulder, your collarbone, your throat, letting nothing stop me. Next will be your face, where I'll make brief forays at your ears and eyes, while laying siege to your mouth.

Every part of you, your feet, your knees, your inner thighs, your chest, your back will all fall to my onslaught. By the time I reach my final objectives, you'll want to be vanquished. You'll beg to be possessed. You'll surrender completely to me."

Getting to his knees, Draco straddled Harry's body, leaning over him so that their faces were close, his eyes locked with Harry's.

"There'll be others who'll want you. Want you for their own. But I'll have already been there. Every whisper of breath across your body will remind you of me. Every touch will be an echo of my skin on yours. Every quiver will be but aftershocks to the shudders of you under me. You're mine, Potter, and always will be."

Harry blinked. "Wow, Malfoy. That's," Harry swallowed hard, "that's really bizarre."

Draco poked Harry in the ribs. "Shut up."

Wiggling in reaction, Harry was unable to keep the happiness from flooding through him and spilling out in a burst of laughter. "I mean it. You're such a weirdo."

Draco decided later that he probably shouldn't have explained himself to Harry, for Harry seemed determined to make him thoroughly his as well. And Harry liked to use his teeth.

* * *

Hermione rapped softly on her own door. When there was no response, she knocked harder. She was searching for something to use to bang on it when Draco opened the door a few inches and peered out.

"Granger? Is there something you wanted?"

"It's five o'clock in the afternoon, Draco. I managed to borrow clothing from Lavender, who was also kind enough to provide me with a place to sleep. But tomorrow are the NEWTs and I've exhausted your supply of notes and need my own. Not to mention that Crabbe and Goyle have been nosing around saying something about a promised chicken dinner. And how did you get all those notes from Ravenclaw, anyway?"

Draco seemed to ponder the situation, then stepped back, allowing Hermione to enter.

Clothes were scattered about the room. The blond was clothed only in a black pair of boxers, but what shocked Hermione were the bruises and bites that marred the pale skin. He saw her noticing them, and grinned proudly.

"Harry's rather possessive."

Her eyes flew to the bed, where Harry lay with his face turned away from her, the sheet wrapped around his waist, exposing the lean muscles of his chest. One long leg was flung out and an edge of the sheet crept up the thigh.

"You wanted your notes, Granger?" Draco said, amusement evident in his voice.

"Right." Sneaking one last glance at Harry, she went to her desk, removed the spell she'd set to protect all of her papers, and gathered her notes in her arms."

She allowed Draco to steer her back to the door.

"And what should I tell Crabbe and Goyle?" Hermione asked.

Turning his head towards the bed, Draco said loudly, "Potter, you want some roast chicken?"

"Oh, please don't let that be another sexual euphemism," came the muffled reply.

Letting out a laugh, Draco returned his gaze to Hermione, who was attempting to keep her face expressionless. "Tell Crabbe and Goyle that I'll meet them to go into Hogsmeade at the Great Hall in an hour. Tell Ron he's invited, as are you."

"I'm going to be busy studying. It's already been delayed outrageously."

"Yes, it was completely ill-mannered for the Progiscor to rise right before the NEWTs."

Draco started to shut the door, then stopped. "Could you possibly ask the house elf Boppy--"

"Dobby," Harry said from inside the room.

"--to send up a tray of food and drink for Potter? I believe he's weak from hunger."

"Hunger. Right," huffed Harry from inside, sounding slightly more awake.

Hermione smiled. "I will." Reaching out, she touched one of the marks on Draco's body, letting her fingertips skim along his torso until they reached a second one. "I really should've taken full advantage of you when I was your girlfriend."

Speaking a little louder, she said, "Sure you don't want to share him with me, Harry?" and was answered with a growl.

"Better tell Crabbe and Goyle I'll meet them in two hours," Draco said with a grin before shutting the door.

With a bounce in her step, Hermione headed to the common room to study, doing her best to ignore the sounds coming from behind her.

* * *

Draco had been horribly, terribly wrong.

He'd told Goyle that buying roast chicken dinners wouldn't bankrupt him. Graveyards didn't possess as many bones as were currently mounded on the table. Between Ron, Vince, and Greg, it was possible that whole flocks had been sacrificed to appease their hunger.

He managed to settle the bill with the owner and joined the others outside.

"I wonder if Honeydukes is still open," said Ron as they headed at a walk back to Hogwarts. "Could use a sweet or two to finish the meal off."

"I thought that's what the two helpings of crème brulee were for," said Draco dryly.

"Not the same thing." Ron turned to Goyle. "You know what I mean, don't you, Greg?"

"Definitely, Ron."

Ron smile triumphantly at Draco. In retaliation, Draco turned to Crabbe. "Vince, have you considered who you're taking to the Leaving Ball? It's in a few days."

"I d-don't know," replied Vince, sending a quick glance at Ron. "There's a girl I like, but she's got a boyfriend."

"And has this boyfriend of hers asked her yet? If he hasn't, then I propose that she's up for grabs."

"Really?" said Vince hopefully.

"Absolutely."

"Who are you taking, Malfoy?" Ron asked, a bit peeved that his friend was encouraging a rival for Hermione.

"Harry, naturally."

"Have you asked him?"

"No, but..."

"He's a hero, now. He might have other options."

Draco stared at Ron for a moment and a chill went through him. Harry was a hero now, just like the Harry in his world. And the Boy Who Lived, Hero of the Wizarding World, had never wanted to have anything to do with Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Harry was pulling on his pants when Draco stepped through the door.

"I think Hermione wants her room back," Harry said as way of explanation, all the while keeping his back turned to Draco. "I can't believe you let me lounge around most of the day. The NEWTs are tomorrow."

"Lounge around?" Draco lifted an eyebrow. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Flushing, Harry grabbed a sock off of the floor, then began rummaging through the bedcovers. "Listen, I've got to go. Unlike you, I have to do well on the NEWTs, not having a huge trust fund to fall back on." Eyeing his goal, Harry snatched a sock from among the blankets.

Folding his arms, Draco leaned back against the wall and watched Harry don his socks.

"Fine. Go if you must," he finally said. "I just wanted to ask you something important."

"Important? Where are my shoes?"

Pointing to a corner, Draco took a deep breath as Harry retrieved the shoes, then sat on the edge of the bed while he put them on.

"I was wondering if you would like to attend the Leaving Ball?"

"Doesn't pretty much everyone go?" Harry asked without glancing up.

"I'm asking you to be my date."

Harry's hands stilled on the laces of his shoes for a moment before he resumed tying them. "Sure. Sounds great."

Standing, Harry headed for the door. "I really have to be going."

After Harry rushed out, Draco stood alone in the room, feeling bereft and confused, wondering what he'd done wrong.

* * *

The NEWTs had been gruelling, but Draco knew he'd done well and was quite pleased. He was not pleased, however, by the fact that since asking Potter to the Leaving Ball, he'd managed to spend less than a handful of minutes alone with him.

Finally, he'd decided to discover what was causing Potter to avoid him lately. Which was why Harry was currently sprawled on the floor of the closet outside of the Great Hall after Draco had tackled him and dragged him inside. Draco had always firmly believed in taking the direct approach.

"What gives, Potter? You've been avoiding me."

"I haven't, either." Harry rose to his feet and started brushing the dust from the floor off of his robes. "You know, you don't need to kidnap someone if you want to talk to them. Oh, right, with your personality you do."

"I do if they've been dodging me, which you have. Wherever I am, you make it a point of not being there." Even in the dim light, Draco could tell that Harry was looking everywhere but at him.

"That's ridiculous."

"Fine. Prove it. Give me your map. The one that shows where everyone is all the time."

"No."

"See! You do want to avoid me."

"Just because...." Harry trailed off, then leaned against the wall of the closet in silence.

Draco moved closer, his voice low. "Why, Potter? Is it because you're no longer interested, having had your wicked way with me?"

"No." Harry denied, "Of course not." Then more hotly, "And it was you having your wicked way with me. I didn't even know you could...and when you...and that thing you did with your tongue was just...." Harry shook his head. "That's not it at all."

Draco leaned in closer and ran a finger down Harry's cheek. "You liked what I did with my tongue?"

Eyes brimming with memory, breath hitching, Harry nodded.

Placing a leg between Harry's, Draco murmured. "And would you like for me to do it again?"

Unable to stop himself, Harry thrust his groin against Draco's thigh, and nodded a second time.

Draco ran his hands leisurely down Harry's chest, past his waist, until he reached where their bodies met and began to stroke Harry.

"Then you know what you need to do, Potter?"

Arching his hips against Draco's hand, Harry was incapable of answering. His eyes closed as Draco stroked him a few more times then squeezed, before taking a step back.

"You need to stop avoiding me."

Harry's eyes flashed open. "You...you...you tease."

"Tell me, Harry. Why are you doing it?"

"Because of this! Exactly because of this," Harry snapped. He ran his hand through the mess of hair on his head in exasperation.

"I don't understand."

"Us. This. It's not going to last, is it? After the Leaving Ball, we're out of Hogwarts. Probably never to see each other again except for once in a while when we'll run into each other, nod politely, then be on our way. And it'll tear me apart. I'll still want you and you're going to step away, just like you did right now. Completely unaffected."

Draco grabbed Harry's hand and yanked it to his crotch where his erection was still hard and yearning. "Does this feel unaffected to you?" He ground against Harry's palm for a moment before releasing it. "I'm not leaving you, Harry. I'm not letting you leave me, either."

"You're not?" Harry's face was wary, but with a small bit of hope shining through.

"No," Draco repeated. "I'm not."

"It just feels sometimes as if everyone leaves me." Harry looked down at the floor for a moment, before raising his eyes to Draco's. "I guess that means that I've been acting pretty stupid lately, then."

"Which is understandable, seeing how that's your natural state." Draco smiled seductively. "You were also wrong about one other thing."

"What?"

"Malfoys threaten. We bribe. We entice. We insult. We promise retribution and we vow revenge."

Moving forward, Draco dropped to his knees at Harry's feet.

"Malfoys never tease."

When Draco licked his lips in anticipation, Harry moaned.

* * *

He didn't have time for this, Draco thought as he sat in Dumbledore's office the next day. Tonight was the Leaving Ball. He had to bathe, deep condition his hair, and somehow chose an appropriate robe from the vast array of nauseatingly red and gold formal attire the other Draco had owned.

He studied Dumbledore across the desk and was surprised at how old he looked. Draco had seen him at the head table for so many years and known for even longer that he was one of the greatest living Wizards, so it was a bit shocking to notice how elderly and almost feeble he seemed.

His age must have been causing some feeble-mindedness, as well, for they'd spent the entire time during their meeting discussing the various sweets at Honeydukes and how the house elves might improve the dessert menu. Draco's suggestion that if they ever fouled up the baklava as spectacularly as they had on the previous night, then they should be spread with the mixture and staked out in the sun was only met with a distracted nod.

Despite the thick walls, Draco could hear the sounds of the storm growing outside. As Dumbledore had prattled on about various candies, he'd amused himself with imagining all the damage the wind and rain was creating as they sat and talked. Finally, Draco decided that enough time had been wasted.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I appreciate you taking your valuable time to discuss matters of no importance with me, but I really must be on my way." Draco moved to stand up.

"You are attending the Leaving Ball tonight?" Dumbledore asked.

Draco stopped where he was and nodded.

Dumbledore studied him for a moment. "With Harry Potter, no doubt?"

"Yes."

"Would you say that you and Mister Potter have become friends?"

"You saw us next to the basilisk. I'm sure you can draw your own conclusions," Draco replied stiffly.

"Yes, the basilisk. Quite an interesting business. I'm afraid your and Mister Potter's exploits in destroying the Progiscor are all over the newspapers. You are both being touted as heroes in the Wizarding community."

"Well, it has been against the law for Wizards to kill reporters since 1797, so I don't suppose it can be helped. Stupid law."

"Owls have flown in almost continuously since, showering both you and Mister Potter with praise and gratitude."

"Quite a nuisance, aren't they?"

"I understand that Mister Potter has even received news that his father was planning on visiting soon."

Draco frowned. He remembered Potter recognising the handwriting on the letter he'd received that morning and his eyes going wide behind his glasses while tearing open the envelope with shaky fingers. Afterwards, he'd tried to feign that it wasn't important, but he'd been filled with energy. The subsequent sex had been quite memorable, but it concerned Draco that Potter could be so easily influenced by his father's approval.

Dismissing the thought, Draco shrugged. "I'm sure the story will soon get out that you had the situation well in hand and the furore will die down."

"Whether it does or doesn't is of no matter. Harry Potter is now quite a celebrity. I believe he is even being considered for Auror training."

Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Which is what you wanted to happen," he said slowly, the truth becoming apparent.

"When I performed the Spell of Necessity with Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall, I had no such clear objective in mind."

"The Spell of Necessity? That's impossible. It's only a myth."

"All myths have their roots in the truth."

Pushing his chair back with such force that it clattered to the floor, Draco stood, trembling with rage. "You did this, didn't you? It's your fault I'm here."

"The trouble with the Spell of Necessity is that one never knows how it will be accomplished," Dumbledore replied calmly. "We had no idea that it had even worked, nor that you would be the instrument that would solve our dilemma."

"But it wasn't the Progiscor that you were worried about, was it?"

Draco's mind flashed back to Snape's interest in his relationship. He'd said something about how Harry's mother was dead, how his father abandoned him, and Muggles had raised him, just like someone else.

"It was Harry you and Professor Snape were concerned about." The conversation he and Harry had eavesdropped on in the staff room suddenly began to make sense. "Years ago, Snape said, you didn't do anything and it was a catastrophe."

Draco took a deep breath, his mind coming to a conclusion that stunned him.

"You were afraid. Afraid that Harry would become another Voldemort," Draco accused.

Dumbledore simply nodded his head in reply.

"That's crazy. Harry would never do that."

"Harry has ambition."

"Harry has a disgusting inner core of goodness. I should know because I'm completely lacking one." Draco leaned over Dumbledore's desk and did nothing to disguise the anger he was feeling, his voice becoming a low growl. "Which you'll discover if you ever, ever consider meddling in Potter's life again."

"Please, Mister Malfoy, calm down. I didn't ask you here for a confrontation."

"Then why did you?"

"I merely wished to say good-bye to you before you left."

"Well when I walk out the door of Hogwarts for the final time, I can't say I'm going miss you, your cronies, or this pile of rocks." Draco spun away and headed for the exit.

"The spell is ending and all must go back to as it should be."

Draco's face was ashen when he turned to stare at Dumbledore. "It's ending? So I'll be leaving? Leaving this world?" he stammered.

Dumbledore's slow nod shook Draco's soul.

"Damn you," Draco hissed, full of pain. "Damn you to hell."

* * *

"Harry!"

Draco was panting, out of breath. A trickle of cold sweat was rolling down his cheek. After leaving Dumbledore's office, he'd run straight for Harry, scared that he might disappear before seeing him again. A Slytherin student had just been stepping out of the dormitory when he arrived, so he raced in and quickly made his way to Harry's room where he was greeted with a grin.

"I thought you're weren't supposed to be here for another two hours."

"I need to talk to you, now."

"Sure." Harry looked at Zabini and Nott, who were staring at them curiously. "Why don't we go outside?"

As they left Slytherin, Harry let out a snort of laughter. "I guess you know the new password, right?"

"Password?" Draco was having a difficult time focusing, his mind still trying to get a grip on the situation and what he could possibly tell Harry.

"You don't know?" Harry's grin became even wider as they climbed the stairs leading out of the dungeons. "I changed it. Actually, I just added to it. The password is now Malfoy sucks...magnificently."

At Draco's blank look, Harry shook his head, smiling ruefully. "I know, I know. It's crude, insulting, and an incredible understatement."

Not even paying attention to where they were going, Draco found himself at the door they'd used to lead the basilisk outside and opened it. It was still raining hard. There was an occasional flash of lightning with the accompanying rumble of thunder, but the doorway had overhanging eaves, which would protect them from the downpour.

Harry's brows knit together in concern at Draco's unusual behaviour. "What's the matter?"

"I have to tell you something."

"Something bad?"

Draco nodded. "Very bad."

"What did you do?" Harry asked.

"It's not my fault! If it were up to me, I'd stay here forever."

"You're leaving?" All traces of a smile on Harry's face melted away in an instant. Distraught, Harry began to back away, not noticing that he'd moved out from under the shelter and the rain was now soaking his hair and robes.

"Yes. No." Oh, god, Draco thought. It was going to be even worse for Harry. When the other Draco came back, Harry would be ignored. Harry would think that Draco was doing it on purpose, cutting him out of his life."

"Listen to me, Harry. Stick with Hermione and Ron. They'll be good friends to you. I guarantee it."

"But you won't be around, will you?" Harry stepped further into the rain.

"I will." Draco narrowed the distance between them so that the rain was now trickling down his hair, his face, seeping into his robes. He grabbed Harry by the arms, yanking him close. "I just won't be with you. Not anymore. I can't be. I'll be some prat who doesn't even know that I love you."

Draco kissed Harry hard, trying to convey his feelings one last time with his lips when words were useless.

Harry pushed him away and used his sleeve to wipe the taste of him from his mouth.

"You want to go, Draco, then go. Get out of here! I'm not stopping you."

"You don't understand."

"I understand just fine."

Water had blurred Harry's glasses and his eyes were hidden from view, but Draco suspected from the tremble in his voice that not all of the dampness on his cheeks was due to the rain.

"Harry, please let me explain."

"No! I trusted you. Believed in you. Even lov.... " Harry stumbled further back. "Now you..." Unseeingly, he turned away from Draco and headed into the storm.

"Go to hell, Malfoy."

He couldn't let it end like this. Not with Harry in pain while his own heart felt torn apart.

Draco raced after Harry. The rain was coming down so hard and thick that he couldn't see Harry anywhere.

"Harry!"

He scanned his surroundings and thought he saw some movement to his left so he ran towards it. "Harry!"

A bolt of lightning struck a tree not far from him, startling Draco. He wheeled back, losing his footing to land in the mud on his back, his head hitting a rock hard. Blackness threatened to overwhelm him, engulf him. He couldn't let that happen. Blinking hard, he willed it away.

Draco spread his arms wide to brace himself when he touched something next to him. Something that wasn't grass or mud. He turned over and saw what it was and the wail he let out split the sky.

It was the body of his father.