Chasing Harry

Chapter 17: An Accidental Meeting

***

Tom had not been surprised to find Draco gone from the house when he woke up. Last night's fiasco had effectively ended their short-lived truce. He glanced at the empty wine bottles on the floor and shook his head. Draco just needed some time to air out his anger, and Tom had the good sense to give him that for a while. Rejected sex never failed to trouble any relationship.

Now, how to get back to Hogwarts? He supposed he could go to The Leaky Cauldron first and send word to the school, but that would take longer as he didn't have a wand to call the Knight Bus. Still, there might be a quicker way to give Dumbledore a message. Pity he had been too smashed to do it last night when the owls were awake.

He looked around the rooms just recently vacated by the Death Eaters and found what he was searching for in one of them, something forgotten in their hurried packing: a small travel pot of floo powder. The presence of floo powder meant that the fireplace in the room was at least temporarily connected to the floo network. He held the pot in his hands with glee. He didn't need to go out of his way after all.

***

Harry stretched on the bed and looked out the window. It was mid-morning already and he had missed breakfast again. He groaned into his pillow. He didn't normally sleep in this late--even during Sundays--but his rest had been fitful. The disturbingly erotic dreams he had had last night might have had something to do with it. Usually, he'd be happy to have dirty dreams any night, but Tom didn't figure in his dream at all. For some reason, he had dreamt about fighting off the advances of a naked Draco!

He grimaced as he put on his glasses. Getting raped by the ferret even in his dreams could certainly qualify as a nightmare, even if said ferret looked alarmingly attractive without his clothes on.

"Good morning," a voice whispered seductively on his left.

Harry gasped, expecting to see his nightmare alive by his side. But his dread quickly turned to joy when he saw that it wasn't Draco at all. It was Tom--safe and sound and sitting on Ron's bed looking as good as when he had last seen him.

"You're back!" Harry exclaimed, launching himself off the bed and landing squarely above the Slytherin.

"And you finally woke up," the other said.

He pushed Tom away. "Where have you been? Everyone's been looking for you!"

"Not far. It's a long story."

"But are you sure you're okay?" Harry asked with concern.

"I am now." Tom grinned.

"How long have you been waiting here?" Harry asked, grinning as he adjusted his glasses, which had been skewed during their hug.

"Not long," Tom replied. His features softened. "I missed you." He embraced him.

The warm reality of Harry, the sheer sensation of being here, holding him--his hand against Harry's back--flooded him with a feeling that was more than relief, more than joy. He smelled of sleep, of cotton sheets and the unique naked scent of him that Tom had never been able to forget.

And even before Harry could react, Tom started kissing him passionately, rolling over so that Harry lay beneath him on Ron's bed.

Surprised but pleased, Harry responded enthusiastically. They could talk later, much later.

***

In a different part of Gryffindor Tower, another couple was engaged in their own form of amusement.

"You know, we really need to wake him up," Hermione gasped in between kisses.

"Let him sleep," Ron argued, not letting go, his lips traveling to her chest.

"Oh... but..." She was very tempted to give in; after all, they didn't often find themselves alone in the common room like this. And it felt so good to be held like this, to be kissed like this... until Ron hiked up her skirt. "Ron!" she shrieked.

"What?" he asked, alarmed.

"Not here in the common room," she whispered fiercely, blushing as she arranged her shirt as she found that she had been more exposed than she cared to be. "This is a public area. What would the others say if they see their Head Boy engaged in lewd acts?"

"They'd say the Head Girl is about to get extremely lucky," he joked, wiggling his eyebrows. Then he ran his hand through his short tousled hair. "It's just so hard to find a place where we could be alone. At this rate, we'd be virgins until we get married."

She poked his chest lightly. "Then maybe that's what we'll be," she said seriously.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, horrified. "You can't possibly be serious! I'd be the oldest virgin the world." He tried to dispel dire visions of his friends laughing at his wedding.

"No, I will be. Remember, I'm six months older." Then she laughed, tossing her head with mirth. "Relax, I was just kidding. We can try again some other time."

"I'm not pressuring you." The last thing he wanted was to be an inconsiderate boyfriend. "You decide when you're ready. I can wait," he said, smiling innocently while praying to the gods that he won't have to wait too long.

"Oh, I want to, believe me. It's just hard to find to find a secure place, and we're always hardly alone." She kissed him on the forehead to placate him.

"Then maybe we should kick Harry off the room right now so we can get some privacy," Ron said grumpily, holding out a hand to Hermione and pulling her up with him.

"Is he alone there? I thought I heard someone else enter."

"I'm pretty sure he's alone. The others never go to the room at this hour. Come, let's wake him up."

Hermione hopped up the stairs lightly, leaving Ron behind her at the bottom. She faced the boys' room, turned the knob, stepped in, and was about to yell for Harry when she realized exactly what was going on before her. Her jaw fell as looked at Harry. All her experience and all the books in the world could not have prepared her for the sight that met her eyes. Sure, her friend's eyes were closed. But he wasn't sleeping, and neither was the all-too-familiar boy on top of him.

The sound of Ron's footsteps on the stairs brought her back to her senses. Thinking quickly, she closed the door and blocked it with her body. And she had done it not a moment too soon for as she turned her back to the door, she came face to face with Ron.

He looked at her, perplexed. "Is there something wrong? You're all red."

She opened her mouth and found herself unable to speak. She swallowed and tried to bring the image of Harry's blissful face from her mind. "I'm fine," she choked out.

"You looked really odd for a moment there," Ron commented. He reached for the knob behind her.

"NO!" Hermione pounced on him and pushed him from the door. A line of nervous sweat trickled from her forehead as she stared at Ron, wide-eyed. "You can't go in there!"

"Hermione, what is the matter with you?"

"Um... I-it's Harry," she stammered. "He's dressing."

"That's all right. It won't bother him." Ron stepped around her and headed for the door.

Horrified, Hermione flung herself in front of him and gripped his arms. She couldn't possibly let him see Harry and Tom with all their appendages wrapped around each other--and on Ron's bed of all places! Her boyfriend could die of shock before her eyes.

"I know another place!" The words came out in a rush. "Somewhere more private."

"Where?" His hand was on the knob.

Oh, please don't turn it. "It's an unused room, at the far end of the South Hall way past the Ravenclaw dorms. No one ever goes there."

"How come you never told me about this before?" He looked suspicious, still holding onto the doorknob.

"I forgot," she said simply. She smiled, trying to reassure him. "Come on, it's not far. And it has a bed!"

"Really?" He seemed unconvinced. "It must be dusty if no one ever goes there. Don't you like my room?"

She swore silently at Ron for his stubbornness. "It's not. It's a guest room for those who visit the school and it's always kept clean. Trust me, I've been there." And she added, feeling risky, "If you agree, I'll let you do anything you want."

Ron's ears perked up at the word. "Anything?"

"Anything," Hermione pressed, smiling archly. She put her arms around his waist and kissed the tip of his nose. "You. Me. Alone. We'll have the whole day," she purred.

"Oh." He paused, letting it sink in. He pulled her toward the stairs eagerly. "Well, come on."

She laughed. "You go on ahead. I just need to, um, adjust my bra. I'll meet you by The Fat Lady."

And as soon as Ron was out of sight, Hermione pointed her wand on the door and cast a locking spell. It would be temporarily locked from anyone outside until it was opened from inside. She felt rather daring, and found herself excited at the prospect of spending the whole day with Ron on the guest room. She couldn't let Harry have all the fun.

What she had seen had surprised her immensely. But she also felt an uncharacteristic flash of... envy. And lust. Yes. She, Hermione Granger--the Ice Queen--was feeling incredibly horny for the first time in all her seventeen years.

"You owe me one, Harry," she said aloud. Then she ran down and out the common room. She hoped Ron was feeling energetic enough.

***

Ginny slid onto the wooden stool before the bar. The Hog's Head was almost empty. But then, who in their right mind would be drinking in a pub at Sunday noon?

Besides, this wasn't exactly a swinging place to begin with. It was a place where one could go to forget a few things--which was exactly what she wanted. She was furious with Harry, but more than that, she was angry with herself. How could she have let herself fall this far? Haven't she learned her lesson years ago?

"Oh look! It's Weasel's little sister," Draco Malfoy drawled from the right end of the bar, just two seats away from her. He was dressed oddly, in a brown monk-like robe with a hood that was pulled over his head. Rather drab compared to his usual attire.

She winced. Couldn't she just drink herself to a stupor in peace? Why, of all places, was Draco Malfoy here? "Leave me alone, Malfoy," she snapped. The two other patrons ignored them completely. Of course, they weren't even conscious.

She nervously pulled her cap down, hoping that the brim offered enough shadow to hide her face. At least her distinctive hair was hidden. It wouldn't do to have some unscrupulous wizard tattle to her father. She ordered a shot of gin. The bartender, who was at the other end of the bar, hardly looked from his copy of Naughty Witches as he waved his wand toward the shelves of drinks behind him. A bottle of firewhiskey and a shot glass flew and landed right in front of her.

Okay... wrong drink. Well, she thought ironically, at least this one's more potent.

"What brings the Gryffindor's golden girl to this wonderful place?" Draco mumbled from her right. To her dismay, he had claimed the seat right beside her.

"Shut up, Malfoy," she said angrily before downing a shot of firewhiskey. Maybe if she ignored him long enough, he'd leave her alone.

He laughed deprecatingly, as he watched her force down another burning drink down her throat. He leaned closer. "Here, they don't ask for ID. In fact, no one gives a shit about you." His breath fanned her cheek. It smelled like hot alcohol and a not unpleasant scent of something else she couldn't identify. He was clearly very, very drunk.

Ginny turned to face him, their noses inches from each other. His skin was splotchy and there were dark rings around his bloodshot eyes. She suspected that he might have been here the whole night. "And what do you care if I'm here?"

He rested his elbow on the damp bar and looked at her intently. "You didn't get what you wanted last night, did you?" he asked lasciviously.

She turned away. "Fuck off."

"And how, pray tell, do I do that alone?"

"What?!" Why was he still here? She was evidently feeling the effects of the drink. Even Draco Malfoy was starting to look good. God forbid.

He blinked his innocent grey eyes. "You know, fuck off. Will you help?"

And, for some unknown reason, this made her laugh.

***

A bottle of firewhiskey later--shared between the two of them--Ginny was sure that she must be drunk, or was very close to being one. She slammed the shot glass on the bar after she drank the last drops of liquid from the bottle. "I can't believe it! I lost again!" she giggled.

"We must have played every single drinking game I know," Draco guffawed. He signaled drunkenly and the bartender delivered a fresh bottle in front of them without looking up. He was used to kids like these. "I think we just missed lunch. Care to continue?"

She tossed her head theatrically. "I can take a lot more," she declared bravely.

"I like daring in a woman," he said flirtatiously.

"I thought you went the other way?" She raised a brow.

"I'm a true connoisseur. I go both ways." He spread his arms magnanimously. "There are too many ways to have fabulous sex in this world to devote oneself to a single type."

She snorted. "At last! I found someone who likes me along with everyone else," she said sarcastically. "And it turned out to be you."

"Why? You got dumped?" he asked baldly.

"I wish. It didn't even go that far." She refilled her glass. "I thought it would. You know, I thought we really had this connection."

"Who is it this time? The last guy I saw you with was Thomas."

"Who else? Everyone's favorite hero," she spat out. "Mr. Oh-Ginny-I-Love-You-Like-A-Sister."

He choked on his drink. "Potter? You wanted Potter?" he spluttered. Then, to her amazement, he started laughing. He laughed so hard that he nearly knocked their firewhiskey off the bar.

"Did I say something funny?" she asked, insulted. "Or am I not good enough for him?"

Draco banged his fist on the bar, still laughing. "Of course he wouldn't want you! He's too busy shagging Tom behind everyone's back!"

"Who?" She didn't catch the name.

"Tom. Tom Riddle. The former enemy turned new best friend."

Her hand froze on the way to the glass. "Are you sure this isn't just another wild rumor at school?"

"Do you doubt me? Tom was moaning his name like crazy last night. Why, he even had the nerve to push me aw--" And just as he prepared to launch into his own sob story, he noticed that Ginny was no longer on the stool.

"Ginny?" He looked around. But she was gone. The pub's door was still swaying from her exit.

He shrugged. Too bad. He could have used a listening board to rant to, even if it was Ginny Weasley. He reached for the firewhiskey. At least she left the drink.

(tbc)