All's Fair

The morning sky was blocked with rain clouds threatening to break, casting a cool shadow over the castle that somehow seemed to penetrate the stone walls. It surely didn't improve the mood of a certain green-eyed teenager, who was currently trudging down the stairs that led to the Gryffindor Common Room, grumbling under his breath.

Exhausted from the blinding pain his latest vision had caused him during the night, Harry pledged never to skip out on practicing Occlumency again, no matter how preoccupied he was. He hadn't had one this bad in a long time, having gained much control over the connection between himself and Lord Voldemort during his sixth year. It helped that the dark wizard was no longer able to manipulate the bond, after the failed possession at the Ministry of Magic headquarters a little over a year ago, but Harry's scar sometimes still linked him unwillingly to his enemy. And last night Voldemort had been very upset indeed.

He would have to fit in a trip to Dumbledore's office sometime later today.

The vision and the weather, in addition to his lack of proper sleep due to worrying over the Malfoy situation, made for a very grumpy Harry Potter. It didn't help when, upon entering the Common Room, his entire house was bubbling over loudly with excitement for the start of the new school year.

It was easy enough to spot the tall red haired prefect that was Ron Weasley, who was getting ready to help Hermione usher the first years down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry fell in step next to them, ignoring the open-mouthed stares some of the small witches and wizards were giving him and his exposed scar, and quietly told them what he had Seen in his dream.

They both predictably tried to persuade him to speak with Dumbledore right away, but gave up when he made it clear that it wasn't an emergency, and that Dumbledore probably already knew about it anyway. Right now he was tired and just wanted some hot tea and crisp bacon on toast to help him wake up.

Seated between Neville and Ron, Harry gave as bright a smile as he could muster to Hagrid, who was wildly waving happily to him from the faculty table at the front of the Hall. Since he no longer took Care of Magical Creatures, Harry hadn't seen as much of the bearded half-giant the previous year, and he silently vowed to visit more often this term.

Friendly conversation combined with good food helped him to cheer up, and he didn't even really mind when he saw that 'N.E.W.T. Double Potions' was listed as his first class of the day on his timetable. Harry wondered in the back of his mind whether Malfoy had also signed up for that course. Since N.E.W.T. level classes were much more difficult, not many opted to take those that weren't necessary for their career choice, which also meant that often the few students signed up for one would be combined into one class, despite what house they were in.

Harry himself was only taking four N.E.W.T. courses this year: Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and DADA. All seventh years were required to take at least five classes, but as Harry was also a Quidditch captain, he was exempt from that rule. Instead, Madam Hooch would give him a pass/fail grade at the end of the year, based on his leadership and strategic skills.

Harry suddenly realized he had no idea what Malfoy's plans were for after graduation, though he strongly suspected they would involve a hooded robe, white mask, and black tattoo. The blond was admittedly good at potion-making, however, so Harry thought he would probably be in Snape's class, whatever his ambitions.

After stubbornly refusing to look at the Slytherin table all morning, Harry finally broke and snuck a peek.

The first thing he noticed was that Malfoy's bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle, were back to their posts on either side of him. They looked more than a little intimidating, cracking their knuckles threateningly to anyone who dared to give Malfoy a sideways glance. Harry thought their hands must be smarting, because almost the entire Hall (Slytherins and professors aside) was constantly peering in the Head Boy's direction, whispering loudly to one another. Apparently the buzz hadn't died down yet, and Harry couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt. If anyone knew how awful it was to be the victim of Hogwarts gossip, it was him. Some of the students had angry or disgusted expressions, but then again, ever since Lucius Malfoy's short stay in Azkaban for being an accused Death Eater last year, Draco wasn't exactly popular with the other houses, and often received such dirty looks.

The second thing Harry noticed (quite grudgingly) was that Malfoy was actually rather attractive. Harry had never thought much, if at all, about the other boy's appearance before. It had taken until fourth year for him to consciously acknowledge that Malfoy had unnaturally light hair, and that was only after he overheard someone ask if Fleur Delacour was in some way related to the Slytherin because of their likeness in coloring. He had always just seen Malfoy as an extremely pale boy, with a pointy face and cold grey eyes, and nothing more. Perhaps now that Harry no longer needed to wear his glasses his vision had improved, because Malfoy's features were registering in his brain as much nicer for some odd reason.

He shook his head to clear it, appalled with himself for studying his enemy for so long. 'It's just because of what I saw at Flourish and Blotts,' he scowled. 'That stupid incident is completely messing up my mind! Look at what almost happened last night! Gods, Ron would be sick if he knew how close I came to jerking off to Malfoy and Nott, of all people.'

Speaking of Nott, it suddenly came to Harry's attention that the boy was again absent from his table. Wondering what could have happened to the Slytherin, he turned to point it out to Ron, who shrugged and shoveled more eggs in his mouth.

"No clue, mate, maybe he took ill on the train," he responded, and added carelessly, "Or maybe he's too embarrassed to show his face now that everyone knows he's been all kissy with Ferret-boy. I mean, who wouldn't be?"

Harry cringed inwardly at the thought. He hadn't even considered the fact that he had simultaneously forced Nott out of the closet alongside Malfoy. He wondered if Hermione would make him apologize to the other boy as well.

He sincerely hoped not. He didn't know if he could stomach asking for forgiveness from TWO Slytherins, especially when he found it very likely that they would be unwilling to give it to him.

*

At precisely 9:30AM, a half an hour after breakfast was finished, the fourteen seventh years (Draco Malfoy among them) who sat in the chilly dungeon that served as the Potions classroom visibly jumped when their professor let the door slam dramatically shut behind him. Quickly making his way to the front of the room, he fixed an extra vicious glare on Harry before addressing his students.

"Silence!" Professor Snape snapped, although not a peep could be heard from anyone. "This is the highest level Potions course available at Hogwarts, and I expect you all to behave as such. I hope that you all at least had the common sense to purchase your own advanced Potions kit this summer, as you will be required to do much brewing on your own time." Harry mouthed a soundless 'Thank you!' to a smug Hermione, suddenly much more grateful for his birthday gift. "I won't tolerate anything less than perfection from any of you this year, and you should all know by now that I will not hesitate to take house points if you fail to do so." His black eyes flickered towards the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in the room.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. The two had a bet going as to how many house points the Gryffindors would lose in their first lesson. Ron had capped it at twenty-five, but a more pessimistic Harry had thought at least thirty.

As the class wore on, it became evident who would be the winner. The only Slytherins in the class other than Malfoy were Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Morag MacDougal, but the four seemed determined to give Harry hell, despite being out-numbered by the other houses. Evidently Snape had heard of the fight between both his most prized and hated student, and appeared frighteningly eager to allow them to make Harry suffer for it.

Each time Harry or his friends attempted to retaliate against the thrown bits of eel eyes that landed in Harry's hair, or the snide remarks made about his parents and muggle-upbringing, Snape would bark out an absurd number of points to be taken from Gryffindor House.

Malfoy gave the impression that he found the whole situation amusing, but at one point Harry caught the pale boy staring at him with a strangely intense and searching look that curiously made Harry blush. Malfoy smirked at the pink cheeks, and turned back to his cauldron. The incident was forgotten when a large flying piece of mandrake root caused Harry's Requiescere Draught to splash all over his work station.

"Five points for making a mess, Potter."

*

Harry was seething by the time the two hours were up, his house seventy-seven points down. Hermione, Ron, and Susan Bones followed him as he stormed out of the dungeons, making his way back to the Great Hall even though lunch wouldn't be served for half an hour yet.

Ron was just as furious as his best friend, the red of his face clashing horribly with his fiery hair. "I can't believe the greasy git let them get away with all of that!" he hollered, ignoring the questioning looks other students gave him.

"I can," Harry snarled, rudely knocking away Susan's sympathetic hand, which had been gripping his upper arm. "I'm sure it completely made his day. He's probably looking for a Pensieve right now, so he can relive each moment again and again."

Slightly out of breath from trying to keep up with Harry's rapid pace, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, really, what did you expect would happen? You must have known that Malfoy would take some sort of revenge, and honestly, I think you got off pretty easy."

"Hermione, if you're telling me I deserved that-" Harry began, but was cut off by Susan.

"Of course that's not what she means," she soothed, hesitantly taking his arm, only to be shrugged off again. "But everybody knows that Snape favors Malfoy. The man's probably livid about what happened on the train, especially since it was you who did it. You're lucky you walked out still alive."

Ron grunted, unhappily. "But he didn't have to penalize our entire house! Plus Harry's already been punished, having detentions with Malfoy all month!"

Finally reaching his destination, Harry headed directly towards the Gryffindor table without waiting to see if his friends followed. As angry as he was at having been taunted for two hours straight, he privately agreed that Hermione had a point. If tossed Potions ingredients and petty insults were the worst that Malfoy and his gang were going to offer for the humiliation he had given the boy yesterday, it was a light sentence indeed. Unfortunately, the sinking feeling in his stomach reminded him that Malfoy had never in the past offered him any slack, and that this was only just the beginning of the Slytherin's plans for him.

*

After an uneventful first lesson in N.E.W.T. Double Charms with Professor Flitwick and the rest of the Gryffindors in his year, Harry decided it would be a good time to have that meeting with Dumbledore. He only hoped that the headmaster would be there, as he hadn't bothered to make an appointment.

Cursing himself for not getting the password from Hermione (who, as Head Girl, had access to every room in the castle), he rambled off a list of sweets until the stone gargoyle finally moved at the correct one ("Ton-Tongue Toffees!"). He knocked twice on the heavy door, and was relieved when he heard the old wizard invite him in.

Slipping through the door and approaching the center of the ornately decorated office, Harry wasn't surprised to see that Dumbledore seemed to be expecting him. The wise man was seated behind his desk, his hands folded calmly on top of it. He smiled kindly at Harry, and indicated a chair that appeared out of nowhere.

"Mr. Potter," he said brightly, peering over his half-moon spectacles. "I see that you took the Order's advice as to fixing your vision." Harry held back a snort. It had been more of a demand than a request. "You have so much of your father in you that I seem to have, until now, overlooked just how much you resemble your mother. I know you prefer your eyeglasses, Harry, but I am confident you will grow to appreciate seeing without them." Harry ducked his head with a small smile at the reference to his mother.

"However," the Headmaster continued, "I am sure that you haven't come up here to discuss that, hm?" He raised his eyebrows and nodded encouragingly for Harry to speak.

Harry took a breath and began. "Well, last night I had a vision of Voldemort, sir. I... er.... sort of forgot to practice my Occlumency before I went to bed." He paused, blushing for the second time that day, afraid that he would be scolded.

Dumbledore stroked his beard with one hand and waved Harry's worries away with the other. "I see," he said, a very bright twinkle in his eye. "And what happened in your vision?"

"Well, Voldemort was extremely angry. I couldn't really be clear on what, exactly, but he was punishing a Death Eater for failing to do a job. He said something about losing a great ally. He was about to say more, but I woke up."

Dumbledore gave a wide smile and offered Harry a piece of candy before he responded. "Indeed, I would imagine that Voldemort is feeling rather frustrated at the moment. The Light had an incredible victory last night, Harry." He leaned back in his chair and adjusted his glasses. "As you undoubtedly learned from Hagrid last winter, Grawp was sent to further our attempts to convince the giants to join us in our fight against Lord Voldemort and his army." Harry nodded, feeling his heart fill with hope and expectation. "He has succeeded. Yesterday afternoon, I received an owl from Madam Maxime, who in turn had gotten word from Grawp himself, saying that the giants intend to sever all ties with the Dark forces. They asked only that we allow a small number of representatives to live in the Dark Forest, to ensure that they can keep an eye on our progress."

Harry thought he would explode with excitement and joy. "That's wonderful news, professor!" he grinned. "Is there really enough room for more than one giant to stay in the Forest?"

The older wizard confirmed that there was plenty of space. "If you would inform Miss. Granger and Mr. Weasley of what I have just told you, I think that you will have plenty of time to celebrate with Hagrid before dinnertime. He was most anxious to see the three of you last night, and was probably hoping you'd stop by later today so that he could tell you all about it."

Harry nodded, having already been planning to visit the gamekeeper's hut. 'So THAT'S why he was so cheery this morning at breakfast,' he realized, bidding Dumbledore a good day and hurrying down the spiral staircase away from the office. He could picture his friends' thrilled faces when he told them the news. 'Hagrid must be overcome with pride for his half-brother's success.' No amount of storm clouds, flung eels eyes, or stolen house points could take away the delight he felt at the thought that the Light might actually win this war afterall.

*

The three Gryffindors and Hagrid celebrated straight through dinner, instead opting to munch on an assortment of sweets and some butterbeer (along with ale for Hagrid) that the half-giant had stashed away in a cupboard for just such an occasion. It was a quarter after eight when a slightly tipsy Hagrid asked Harry when he had to leave for his detention.

Swearing loudly, Harry took off running towards the castle, trying desperately to wrench his teeth apart from the piece of homemade treacle fudge he had been chewing. Breathing heavily from his sprint, he reached the doors of the Great Hall to see an extremely irritated Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

"You're late," he growled, immediately grabbing Harry's arm roughly and directing him up a few stairs and further into the castle. "For that you can add another week's worth of detention. I am never to be kept waiting, understand, Potter?"

Harry, unable to open his mouth to speak because of the fudge, could only glare at the blonde, but he nodded angrily to show that he had heard him. Instead of loosening at his acquiescence, Malfoy's grip tightened. "You're to answer when I ask you a question," he snapped, as he pulled Harry through a passage that lead towards the library.

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes slightly, but finally managed to swallow the candy. "Yes, Your Majesty, I understand," he replied sarcastically.

Malfoy stopped moving abruptly and turned around, causing Harry to trip into him. The grey-eyed boy shoved Harry's back against the wall. "I grow weary of your impertinence, Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor. Apparently even five weeks of detention isn't enough to teach you some manners," he said heatedly. "Or perhaps," he stepped closer so that the front of his robes lightly touched Harry's chest, and leaned his right hand on the wall next to his rival's head. "Perhaps you enjoy the idea of spending so much time with me. At night. Alone."

Trembling at the proximity of the other boy and the severe reminder of his fantasy from the night before, Harry resisted the sudden and unexpected urge to pull the boy nearer. Instead he shook his head violently, and tried to make his voice as hateful as possible. "Why the hell would I ever want to be around you?" He inwardly grimaced when it came out slightly shaky.

Malfoy caught hold of some of the midnight locks that had caressed his pale hand during the Gryffindor's ferocious movements, twisting them around a slender finger. He leaned forward until his face was only an inch away from Harry's, looking directly into the emerald pools. "Oh, I could think of a few reasons, couldn't you?" he murmered softly, and for one eternal and confusing second Harry thought the Slytherin was going to kiss him. His eyelids dropped a bit in anticipation, his breath hitched, as he studied the pink lips in front of him.

He was slowly brought back to reality when that same mouth curled into a sneer, the silver eyes hardening to ice. "But it seems you've forgotten what I've already told you once before, Harry. I'd never fuck someone so beneath my status." He clucked his tongue mockingly. "Poor Potter. Whatever will you do about this?" He pressed a thigh against the hardness in Harry's trousers.

Shocked at his own reaction, Harry aggressively threw Malfoy off of him. Malfoy smiled in pleasure at Harry's obvious fury and humiliation. "Now that we've settled who's in charge here," Malfoy said casually, examining his nails, as though he were speaking about the weather, "it's time for me to explain what exactly your punishment entails. That is, if you've gotten enough control over your desire for me that your erection won't distract you from listening?"

Flushing a beet red, Harry stared down at his shoes, still unable to comprehend what had just happened. Malfoy took a step closer.

"I told you to answer me when I speak to you," he ordered sharply.

Desperate in his wish for Malfoy to not come any nearer, he muttered a quiet, "Yes, I'm fine," this time with genuine loathing. Some unknown power kept him from lashing out at the blonde with his fists.

Satisfied, Malfoy began to walk down the hall again. "Then follow me. We're going to the library, where you will stay until midnight, ensuring that every single book is in its proper place."

Harry gaped at Malfoy's back, trailing behind him, astonishment overcoming embarrassment. "But that's impossible! I'll never finish that in less than four hours!"

Entering the library's double-doors, the Head Boy smirked and lowered his voice so as not to draw Madam Pince's attention. "Well, then, I suppose it's lucky for you that you have five weeks to complete it. And I advise you to not slack off when you think nobody's looking, because if you haven't finished organizing the entire library's collection by the end of your assigned detentions, I'll be more than happy to extend your punishment so that you can do so." He pointed in the direction of some shelves. "You can start over there, in the Transfiguration section. I'll be doing work at one of the tables if you have any questions, but I trust that even your simple brain can understand this assignment." With that, the Slytherin left Harry standing alone.

Slowly, he made his way over to the shelves Malfoy had indicated, dragging his feet. What the hell had just happened?? Was his reaction to Malfoy just his hormones going crazy after not being physically close to anyone since last year with Susan? He couldn't believe that he thought Malfoy would actually kiss him, right there in the middle of a public hall, much less at all. 'Not only that, but you WANTED him to do it,' an inner voice hissed nastily. 'Admit it. It was taking all your strength not to grab him and kiss him anyway, even after he made it clear how much you disgust him.'

For some reason, this thought caused a small tightness in his chest, but he quickly brushed it aside. This was ridiculous. He refused to even be mildly attracted to Draco-I-Hate-Mudbloods-Malfoy. Harry hated him almost as much as he hated Voldemort. He was an insufferable, spoiled, bigoted prat who couldn't catch a snitch to save his sorry arse, and, most importantly, he was male. Harry was most certainly not interested in men.

Reassured that he found the bastard as distasteful as ever, he turned his focus onto the task he had been given. He groaned at the thought of spending so much time locked up in the library, but he had been expecting something much worse for punishment, like cleaning out Moaning Myrtle's bathroom with his own toothbrush. Hermione would probably die of jealousy that he got to handle every single one of the thousands of books in the library every night.

He resolutely began to alphabetize the Transfiguration section according to the author's last name. Midnight was a long way off, but he wanted to get as much finished as possible. 'I'll be damned before I let Malfoy find a reason to stretch this punishment out longer than he already has,' he thought determinedly.

*

By the time twelve o'clock rolled around, Harry never wanted to see another book for as long as he lived. This had to be the most tedious thing he had ever done in his life, including when he used to count the cracks in the wall of his cupboard, after being locked in it by his uncle for a prolonged period of time. His eyes were tired and his calves hurt from squatting to reach the lower shelves, and he felt extremely cranky.

He hesitantly went over to the desk Malfoy was seated at, annoyed to see that the Slytherin was somehow still wide-awake and engrossed in a Potions text. Seeing Harry approach, he snapped the book shut and put it in his bag.

"It's midnight," Harry ground out. "Can I go now?" He remembered his promise to Hermione that he would apologize, and almost laughed at the thought. He had been mortified enough for one night, and wasn't feeling particularly guilty for outing the other boy anymore.

Malfoy looked pleased with Harry's submission to his authority, however forced. "You may go, Potter," he said generously, waving a hand to the door. "You'll meet me here tomorrow, at eight." He looked at Harry harshly. "Don't be late. If that happens again, I'll happily take fifty points from Gryffindor. Now get out."

Grinding his teeth to stop any sort of retort, Harry stomped towards the exit. Malfoy's voice behind him brought him to a pause, his hand on the door.

"Oh, and Potter?" he called coolly. "You know the not-so-secret hard on you had earlier? Rest assured that it won't remain a secret by morning. I wonder what everyone in the school will think when they hear that their little celebrity is as queer as the evil Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott."

Harry spun around, unable to contain his rage. He opened his mouth to viciously tell Malfoy what he thought of him, and to inform the horrible git that despite his earlier reaction he was straight, thank you very much, but the Slytherin quickly brushed past him and out the door.

Harry violently pushed the door open to follow, but Malfoy was no where to be seen in the dim hall. Dreading the next day, Harry fumed while he walked back to Gryffindor Tower. Thanks to Malfoy, his thoughts were again so preoccupied that practicing Occlumency was pretty much a joke. It looked like it would be another difficult, sleep-deprived night.

Yes, he really, really did hate the asshole.

~*~