Paint it Black

Paint It Black
Chapter One: Boyfriend

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"Have you heard?" Hermione asked as she forced her way into a seat between Harry and Ron. It was early on a Tuesday morning only two month after they had all arrived back at Hogwarts from their Christmas break. It was now their sixth year and Harry had spent his break with Ron and his family. He really hadn't though much about Voldemort while they were all off; he had been far too busy practicing Quidditch with Ron, Fred, and George to think of anything particularly unsettling.

"Heard what?" Harry asked turning away from the article in the Daily Prophet he was reading and looking up at her.

"You know Malfoy has been dating Pansy since the Yule Ball in fourth year, right?" she asked in response, closing her hands into fists with anticipation for an answer.

"What of it?" Ron asked in an unpleased tone. "Is it important enough to interrupt my breakfast and mention Malfoy?"

"Yes!" Hermione squeaked, her fists clenching tighter yet.

"Well," Harry urged her, "get on with it then."

"He just broke up with her last night!" she said with a heavy sigh as if a huge boulder has been lifted off her chest. Harry and Ron just stared at her blankly as if they expected more to the story. "What?" she asked, her eccentric mood suddenly dropping.

"Is that all?" Ron asked, "You interrupted my meal to tell me that? I thought it was good news - that he was permanently turned into a ferret or something. But, gossip, Hermione? Really!"

"He has a point, you know," Harry added, "You're not really one to gossip. Plus, I doubt Ron cares about Malfoy's love life anymore than I do."

Never-the-less, Harry glanced over toward the Slytherin table where a slew of boys and girls were crowded around Pansy and Draco was sitting only with Crabbe and Goyle, naturally. He didn't look too happy. His head was hung over his empty plate, and his silverware looked untouched. Neither Crabbe nor Goyle looked like they wanted to be there, as they were both fidgeting restlessly with their forks and knives. It was strange to see Draco not surrounded by a harem of girls. He didn't feel bad for him, though, not at all. But it wasn't entertaining to see, either.

"It's pathetic," Harry thought to himself, looking back to the article he had been reading. "Who'd ever think," he said after a while, "that after all of Percy's work and research, they would have problems with faulty cauldrons again..."

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"I still don't understand!"

"Fuck, how can you not understand? You slept with my father! I can't look at you the same way again, I never will be able to see you as anything more than a whore!"

"Why would you say that, Draco?"

"Oh, I don't know... maybe because it's true!"

Pansy collapsed into one of the black high back chairs and crossed her arms, forcing a pout across her face. She batted her eyes and stuck her lower lip out as far as she could. Draco thought she looked like some sort of monkey.

"A bird could perch on that lip," he said flatly.

"Why are you so cold?" she asked loudly.

"Why are you such a cheating slut?" Draco countered with a threatening glare that caused Pansy to sink back into her chair. "Never mind," he said, "I just must be losing my mind." He paused and chuckled to himself. "What was I thinking - you sleeping with my father? What a crazy idea. Except, wait... I saw you in bed with him, in the bed he's supposed to share with my mother." Draco's voice was calm, but firm as she spoke, while Pansy only sat as far back in her chair as possible. He shook his head and walked across the common room toward the exit.

"Why don't you just leave me alone?" he said quietly as disappeared though the door.

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"Stupid little whore..." Draco mumbled to himself as he walked aimlessly though the never ending corridors of the dungeons. A musty scent was in the air, and Draco didn't like the feeling he was having, as though some danger was waiting around each corner.

"You're just worried about Filtch and his damned cat..." he thought to himself, thought deep down he felt it was worse than running into simple trouble. It was more of a lingering mild fear, slowly building.

As he turned a corner, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure walk into Professor Snape's classroom. He tipped his head to the side and narrowed his eyes.

"Now who the hell..."

Slowly, he made his way down the long corridor, taking care not to breathe too heavily, or make any noise incase whomever he had seen was not alone, or had look-outs. Draco figured that the person who had gone in was probably after some potion ingredients and wouldn't it be nice to catch them in the act? He leant gently against the door and found it was not locked, so, slowly, he pushed it open just a crack.

"Just as I thought..." he said to himself. The figure on the other side of the room was wearing a plain black cloak over his robes and had the hood turned up, so Draco could not tell who it was. Full of childlike curiosity, Draco pushed the door open a bit farther, but leant into it too hard and tumbled into the classroom. He only saw the figure turn to face him and then disappear.

"Who's there?" Draco asked from the half-kneeling position he had fallen into. No answer came, but it was obvious that someone was in the room. He had seen someone, after all. Every sound made him jump and he knew whoever was in there with him, must have been getting some sick pleasure out of seeing him with cat-wide eyes turning to face each sound.

He was so fixated on the sounds in front of him, that he hadn't noticed the door had been pulled shut and hadn't heart the faint rustle of fabrics from behind until a cold hand suddenly lightly clamped over his mouth. Instinctively, he grabbed the hand and pulled it away from his mouth, turning on his knees to face who or whatever was behind him. His eyes met two green ones hidden behind glasses and long messy bangs.

"Potter!" Draco exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

Harry brought one index finger up to his lips. "Shhh..." he said, pointing at the door, "it's Filtch."

Draco stayed quiet and carefully listened to the quiet footsteps in the hall. It was difficult to tell if they were coming closer or retreating away, but the oncoming rattle of keys hitting keys told that, indeed, they were becoming nearer. A quiet voice could be heard saying, "Which room did you hear it in, love?" and other such things. Finally, the footsteps stopped and dead silence filled the air.

Draco and Harry exchanged glances of fear, as both had been, at one time or another, caught by Filtch while out at night. Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak, took hold of Draco's arm, pulling him closer, and threw the cloak over them both with one fluid movement. They knelt in silence as Filtch opened the door and nosed around the room with his cat at his heels.

It seemed like it had been an hour before Filtch finally left, and only then, did Draco notice that Harry was still holding onto Draco's forearm. And, just then, Draco remembered something that smacked the back of his head like a frozen snowball.

"Draco, can I talk to you."

"Yes..."

"You think ill of me don't you?"

"......"

"Answer when I ask you a question!"

"Yes!"

"And why?"

"Because you're disgusting."

"Am I really?"

"Yes."

"And Pansy?"

"Just as bad."

"Is it such a big deal?"

"You slept with my girlfriend!"

"She wanted it."

"You made her want it."

"You, son, had not delivered."

"I wasn't ready to."

"I was."

"I hate you."

"It's not as if you're a popular as some people think so are, Draco."

"I am too!"

"And you've only had two girlfriends?"

"So? I am picky."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, and I could bring home any student from school if I wanted to."

"Even a boy?"

"Of course - I said any, didn't I?"

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, young man!"

"...Sorry..."

"Yes you are. A sorry excuse for a Malfoy."

"And you're not?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Fine."

"Bring home a boy - a Hufflepuff boy."

"Oh honestly! That's degrading to me!"

"Hmm... degrading to you, yes, but I don't care."

"It's degrading to the family, then."

"Yes... that is a good point. You're not to stupid after all. A Gryffindor then."

"A what? You must not be serious!"

"You heard me. That is all."

"I need your help," Draco said quietly with his eyes cast down at the floor as he pulled his arm away from Harry.

"What?" Harry asked, the idea of Draco Malfoy asking for him not registering in his mind.

"I said," Draco began, biting his lower lip, "I need you to help me with something."

"What do you need me for?" Harry asked in a demanding tone as he narrowed his eyebrows into wrinkles at the top of his nose.

"I need you to come back to my house over the summer," he said quietly, "and pretend to be my..."

"Your what?" Harry asked, his brows furrowing together more

"My boyfriend," Draco whispered under his breath, as though he didn't want Harry to hear, but with the small distance between them, it wasn't possible to not understand whispers.

"Your what!?" Harry exclaimed as he jumped up and threw the invisibility cloak off of them. "No way, Malfoy! There is no way I'm going to go back to your house, let alone pretend to be involved romantically with you!"

"Will you just listen to me?" Draco asked, "I promise it all makes sense!"

"No!" Harry shouted, "Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," Draco sighed as he sat back on his feet, "and that's why I am asking you."

Harry leant up against the wall near the door and pulled the lock bar all the way into it's socket ending with a quiet clank. "You have my attention, Malfoy. This better be good."

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"No way, Harry! You can't spend the summer with Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed half-jumping out of her armchair and nearly knocking over the Potions project she was working on. "I simply won't allow it."

"She's right, you know. It's not safe," Ron piped in.

"Yes it is. There could be no safer place for me to be," Harry said, repeating what Draco had explained to him. "You see, there is no way Voldemort would come after me there. Malfoy said his father is obsessed with family pride, and if I turned up dead at Malfoy Manor, the ministry would throw Lucius into Azkaban, and then they would be terribly close to catching Voldemort, and if not him, many of his henchmen," he paused and looked at the expressions on his friends faces. Hermione looked like was in deep thought and Ron looked like he was spaced out. "Understand?" Harry asked in a hopeful tone.

"Well," Hermione began with a toss of her hair, "it does seem to make some sense... I think."

"I still say no way, Harry!" Ron said. "It's just not a good idea."

"Trust me," Harry said, "I won't end up dead."

"You better not," Ron near shouted, "or I'll kill your ghost!"

"That's not possible," Hermione pointed out, "since ghosts are already dead an all."

"Want to bet?" Ron asked and he sunk deep into his chair.

"Well, I don't like the idea," Hermione said to Harry after giving Ron a 'just be quiet' look, "but it is your choice after all. We can't choose for you."

"You better owl us every day...," Ron sulked from his chair.

"I will," Harry assured him, "as long as Hedwig gets back soon enough to send out another letter."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Harry?" Hermione asked, folding her hands on her lap.

"Well," Harry began, "I can't just leave him hanging. I guess I feel a bit bad for him." Harry shrugged and stood up before walking over to tend the fire. "It's late, maybe we should all get to bed now."

"I need to finish this project," Hermione said, "but feel free to go if you want to." She pulled her hair back over her shoulders and ties it with a piece of twine to keep it out of her eyes. Her eyes began to scan over the Potions notes before here once again.

"Well, come on Harry," Ron said sleepily as he stood up and started up the stairs to the dormitory.

"Wait Harry, " Hermione said just as Harry was about to begin ascending, "You and Draco are going to need couple lessons of sorts. If Lucius is as sharp as Draco said, then you two will need to look quite convincing. And I hardly think that you can act that way without some instruction."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, "Are you going to teach Draco and I how to be together."

"Well, we only have three months before you'd have to leave, and that's not much time to teach you, someone who, hasn't been kissed, to look involved with someone. And no, not just I, Ron will help to - for your sake anyway"

Harry swallowed hard, " I suppose you're right, Hermione. You almost always are, after all."

"I know," Hermione said with a small smile, "Now why don't you get some sleep. We'll have to start teaching you tomorrow after class. Goodnight Harry, sleep well."

"You too. Goodnight Hermione."