The Dragon Games

Harry's visit to Hermione was not very long, mostly because he couldn't stop thinking about Draco and the almost kiss. His short visit had let him come to the decision that he wanted answers- immediately.

He hunted him down and found him in the dormitory.

What came as the biggest surprise was that he didn't act any different; he didn't say anything odd, which would have been easier for Harry to handle. In fact, Draco acting like nothing had happened was the last thing he had expected.

The only indication he received that Draco even remembered the moment in the library was when he asked, "Want to start the next level?"

He nodded, and Draco left the room. He quickly got himself dressed into the blue robes and headed towards the Room of Magic. He found that Draco was waiting for him, sitting on the ground in his robes, face blank. He sat down across from him, their knees nearly touching. He was sure they had been sitting like this on occasion before, but never before had he been so aware of it.

The two concentrated and as they reached the room, Harry clenched his teeth tight as the Dragon screeched, and his chest wound was opened again. He closed his eyes from the pain, and then opened them again to see Draco staring at him.

Both opened their mouths at the same time to ask a question, and Harry grinned. At least he knew Draco was as keen for answers as he was.

Draco closed his mouth and raised an eyebrow, letting him speak first- a very unusual kind gesture for the former Slytherin to make, but he seized the moment anyway.

The mass of questions entered his head again, and he decided on the first question that came up.

"Were you going to kiss me earlier?" he asked.

Draco smirked and then faltered. "I'd say something really sarcastic, but this truth magic is getting to my head. So... yes."

"Oh," he muttered in surprise.

"Would you have wanted to kiss me earlier?" Draco asked.

The anticipated silence that followed was a struggle of thoughts for Harry. He didn't know the answer to that question, and told him so.

"Oh," Draco said. He didn't seem disappointed, just intrigued... or maybe pleased. Harry couldn't quite identify the reaction.

Oh indeed, he thought.

"Do you like me, like me? Oh Merlin, that's so first grade," Harry cursed himself for his choice of words.

Draco raised an eye to question 'First Grade?', but he decided to ignore it and broke into a grin. "I guess I do."

His stomach turned. Draco Malfoy really did have a crush on him.

"How do you feel about that?" Draco asked, sounding like psychologists he had seen from movies Petunia used to watch.

"I... I-I feel surprised and flattered," he said, then scrunched up his nose.

Did I really just say flattered?

"Flattered, Potter? That's not quite what I expected."

Draco smiled a rare but genuine smile that Harry was sure very few people were ever graced of from a Malfoy. His knees nearly gave out. Draco's smile was nothing like he had ever imagined it could be like. It was captivating and awe inspiring, even sexy, all at once.

"What did you expect?" he asked.

"I need to watch what I say," Draco mumbled under his breath. "Well, I guess I expected you to either one, never speak to me again and avoid me at all costs, or... well, that's all I expected, really."

Harry frowned. Why did Draco think that?

"What I had hoped for is something quite the opposite," Draco added as an after thought, leaving him speechless. "Would you stop me if I tried to kiss you?" he asked, and Harry watched as he held his breath is suspense.

Would I? he asked himself. "If you tried to right now, yes. Because I don't know how I feel about this yet."

"Not now," Draco repeated. "Right, I think I can handle that."

He nodded as a door slid open, and Draco grinned at him. "Come along then," the former Slytherin said.

Draco was oddly chipper- well, chipper in the most Malfoyish way possible. Was it because Harry had not completely put him off?

They went through the door and found themselves in a small forest. A bright white object was coming towards them, and as it got closer, Harry could make out that it was a unicorn. It stopped in front of them, staring fixedly at Draco.

"What do you think we do?" he whispered to his companion.

When Draco didn't answer him, Harry looked at him and found he was staring wide-eyed at the beautiful creature.

"It's so pretty," Draco said in a very robotic way.

"Draco... Are you okay?" he asked. Since he hadn't told him off earlier for calling him Draco, Harry felt it safe to do so, especially because he had called him Harry.

"I think I've lost myself in its beauty..."

"What?" he asked, concerned and puzzled, staring at Draco. Had he lost his mind?

Draco turned to him with a huge grin and started laughing.

Harry frowned, confused. What kind of joke is... and then he recalled the book. The book that was published by the Lockhart followers.

Realization hit the raven-haired boy and he started laughing as well.

"Oh I had to, I'm sorry!" Draco said, trying to catch his breath. "The look on your face! Merlin, Potter, I thought you were going to have a heart attack."

"Shut it," he said jokingly, but raised an eyebrow at him.

"I mean Harry" Draco corrected. "Old habits."

"Desist," the unicorn spoke. Harry and Draco jumped and stared at it. It had a soft yet commanding voice.

"I trust you did not dally in your diligent pursuits of Collins the Fifth, so I will now demand that that you deliver your dignified answers as I dictate to you your deciding questions. To your right direction, there is a dilapidated, diminutive pool of dingy blood. My disowned blood. Decide among your duo how to divide yourselves and do not dawdle. One must decline my devilishly chosen questions and will digress from our conversation and sit dutifully by as the other disburses deadly knowledge of Hector. If discontent I feel from a disarrayed answer, the disowned will drink the blood and be doomed forever. My blood is designed to destroy free will, and if you did get any wrong, you'll no doubt be devoured by the demons of the deep. But do not feel despaired, for if you did your job well, you will be lead directly from here. Only your destined to desolation friend will lead to the doorway."

The two boys stared at the unicorn for a moment.

"I don't think I've heard so many D words used in one sentence before," Draco muttered.

"Did you get that?" Harry asked, frowning.

"I believe so. I think one of us has to answer questions as the other is forced to sit by the pool of blood, and if they give the wrong answers, then the other has to drink the blood. It's unicorn blood, and if one of us drinks it, then they will lead the other to death, and probably go to their own death. The one who drinks will be cursed by the blood, leading their partner to some sort of doom."

"Well then, how do you-"

"I can't believe I didn't even look at that goddamn book!" Draco moaned. I can't believe we let ourselves get so caught up in our personal lives that we forget what we really needed to know.

Then again, he could believe it. It was really stupid of them.

"Do you think you know everything?" Draco asked him.

"I..." He paused. It would be Draco's life on the line, and he knew what he didn't want to hear 'I hope so.' "I know it pretty well."

Draco cursed. "Don't screw up, okay?" He paused. "Actually, if you think you get any of those questions wrong, don't follow me. Got it? I know you said you wouldn't leave me behind, but you wouldn't want me to lead you to your death, would you?"

"No," Harry muttered.

"So answer them right so I don't have to worry, okay?"

He just nodded in reassurance. Draco sighed, identified his right, and walked off.

"Alright," he said to the unicorn. "We're ready."

"Delightful. I have a dozen questions for you."

A dozen? Could he even remember that many facts?

"Firstly," the unicorn started once Harry nodded, "who were Hector's devoted parents?"

He grinned; he knew this one. "Hector the Fourth and Janice."

"Second, when did Collins desire to become a militant dictator?"

He paused, trying to remember. "He was twenty-one."

The unicorn didn't say anything for a moment, and Harry looked over to see if he could see Draco in the distance. He couldn't.

"Thirdly, who was Hector's dutiful partner in the first Dragon Game?"

"His wife, Desiree Collins."

The questions went on, and he felt he was doing fairly well. Finally, he had only one question left.

"The twelfth. Would Hector Collins the Fifth have wanted you to play this game if he were alive today?"

He paused. An opinion question- or maybe there was a real answer. Either way, he didn't really know what to say.

Shit! he thought wildly. If he guessed and was wrong, then Draco would be in great danger. Maybe he was already in danger; he had no idea whether he had answered all the questions right or not.

"Yes, because he created it for trust," he said unsurely.

"You have great depth in your decisive answers. Now you must descend to the blood and depend on your decisions that you did this right."

He nodded, remembering what Draco had told him. He had no idea if his answers were right. Could he trust Draco to lead him out of here?

"Draco?" he asked timidly, finding him beside a small pool of metallic blood.

Draco turned to him. "Come along."

Harry couldn't tell if he had drank any of the blood, but he wasn't about to leave him behind, especially since he had no idea which direction the right way might be. His only choice was to trust he had done this right.

He followed Draco. Every turn they made, he expected something to jump out, and every tree they ducked under, he expected something to pull him up. Every step he made felt like he was walking to his death, and Draco wouldn't answer any of his questions. He'd just say "Come along."

"We're approaching," Draco told him as they were going under a thickly branched tree.

Harry surveyed the land as they went forward, and to his relief, he saw the golden doorway.

---

Harry and Draco had landed back in the Room of Magic.

"Harry, we really need to start thinking before we leap," Draco said as he stood up.

"What an idea," he said sarcastically, brushing dust off himself.

"No, I'm serious, that was really close. I could hear your voice and the questions and everything, but I had no idea what the answers were. And as happy as I am that you didn't leave me," Draco said, giving him a bit of a glare, "you still should have! You didn't know if I was going to bloody kill you! One of us, at least, needs to get to the end. I'd prefer both of us, but if that's not possible, then we'll just have to deal."

"Draco, you know damn well I won't leave you!" he shot at him. "To die..." he added, almost not quickly enough.

Draco eyed him. "I appreciate that, Harry, but that's not how we're going to win this thing."

Harry shrugged.

"You know, I better go check on Ron," he said suddenly. He didn't actually want to leave, but he felt he had had enough excitement for one day.

"Alright," Draco said. "Shall we do this again next week?"

"I guess we shall," he mocked.

Draco grinned. "Don't think that just because I find you- moderately attractive, that you can get away with mocking me." The boy chose his words carefully, but still had the perfect smooth Slytherin smirk.

Harry paused. Draco using the word "attractive" to describe him quite blew him away.

"You going to leave now?" Draco asked.

Harry realized he was standing there, staring at him.

"Right. Bye," he said, and left the room.

He couldn't believe that Draco was embracing his feelings for him like that. Draco had always had a thing for the ladies. Maybe it was just in Draco's nature. Maybe once he had decided on something, he went at it with no restraints. Harry wished he had the ability to let go of his emotions like that.

When he got into the empty entrance hall, he was quite sure that he would be able to make it up to his room and fall asleep before nine that night. But that's not what happened, because as he passed by a small empty classroom, he saw a small figure staring at him from inside. The creature was smiling up at him as he entered, and he found it to be Dobby the house-elf.

"Dobby?" he asked, quite astounded to see him.

"Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby squeaked in excitement.

"What are you doing here?"

"Kreacher and I have much to tell you, sir!"

Harry then spotted Kreacher behind Dobby, glaring at him in a hateful way.

"Sir will be very pleased," Kreacher muttered. "Which is a shame."

"We did as you said to, Harry Potter!" Dobby said, nearly bouncing with excitement.

He frowned; he didn't remember telling them anything. "What did I say to do?"

"You said- you said that Kreacher and Dobby should tail Mr. Malfoy, sir. You said to keep tabs on his whereabouts. And we did! But we are greatly ashamed," Dobby said, bowing his head.

"Yes, Kreacher is very shamed," Kreacher grumbled, not meaning it.

"Why?" he asked. He had completely forgotten about sending Kreacher and Dobby after Draco.

"Because Dobby and Kreacher, sir, have not reported to you regularly as you asked, sir!" Dobby sobbed.

"It's okay, Dobby!" Harry assured.

"Dobby is so very sorry, sir, we meant to find you. Dobby was sure we would find you at Godric's Hollow, sir, that's where Mr. Lupin said you'd be. But that's before you changed your mind; Dobby didn't know you had come back to Hogwarts until two days ago," Dobby went on.

"Yeah, I changed my mind," he said.

"You were not in Kreacher's home when we went there either, sir. There was a man, a disgusting fowl Mudblood in my mistress' house! He was defiling the Black name!" Under his breath, Kreacher added, "Not that it has much good left in it."

"Kreacher was awful to him, sir!" Dobby said. "He scared the man half to death talking about death and You-Know-Who, sir."

"He was alone in your house, sir, in my mistress' house, sir. Kreacher couldn't believe that you would invite him to stay, so he must have been an intruder," Kreacher explained.

"He was a guest! You didn't scare him out, did you?" he asked, frightfully recalling a recent Daily Prophet about a man who had died at Lupin's alleged safe house.

"Dobby didn't, Harry Potter! Dobby tried to keep him calm, but Kreacher had frightened him, and he left the house before we did!"

"He scampered off like the coward he was, sir," Kreacher said proudly.

"Oh no," Harry muttered. Another death because he had screwed up.

"May Kreacher report to you our findings, sir?" Kreacher was grinning now.

Harry eyed him and then turned to Dobby, who was frowning.

"Dobby can tell me," he said, and Kreacher began to grumble.

"Oh thank you, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby said eagerly. "But it's not a very happy tale to tell."

"Just go on, Dobby," he encouraged.

"We followed Mr. Malfoy like you asked, sir. It took us a while to find him because he had taken off," Dobby admitted. "But we found Mr. Malfoy with Him, sir, and Severus Snape." He shuddered.

Harry thought back to the last of Draco's memories that he had seen. That must have been what Dobby and Kreacher witnessed.

"They killed Mr. Dumbledore sir; they told him how they did it!" Dobby began to cry. "Then Young Mr. Malfoy... Young Mr. Malfoy said he'd come back here, come back here and deal with you!"

"Young Mr. Malfoy has come back to kill you, sir," Kreacher said brightly.

He felt a sharp lump in his throat. It couldn't be true. Draco had specifically said he wasn't out to kill him. No, wait. He had said he didn't want to kill him in the game.

Oh Gods. He felt sick.

"Are you sure?" he asked Dobby.

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir, he told He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that he had a plan that would take care of things for good," Dobby cried. "He's an awful boy! The way he laughed, sir, when he spoke of Mr. Albus Dumbledore, he was awful, sir."

He couldn't move, he couldn't speak.

Here he was, throwing himself freely into a game that was surely going to get him killed, and he hadn't even once stopped to really think about what he was doing.

Did Draco really want him killed? Had that been the plan all along, or was Malfoy up to something even Voldemort didn't know about?

"Severus Snape said that Draco would have connections in Hogwarts, sir," Dobby continued. "That they would have a source to keep tabs on Draco."

Connections? He felt like someone had slapped him across the face. Well, maybe that's how you're supposed to feel when the truth comes crashing down all at once.

Could the source possibly be Snape's wife? Or even the new Headmistress? Rosaria Snape had acted as if she had known Draco that first day in class. Was that why?

I'm so stupid! he yelled at himself. He had let his guard down, and now he deserved the consequences.

"Harry Potter, sir, I think you're in much danger!" Dobby said fearfully.

What was Draco not telling him? What more was he missing from this big picture? He needed to know, and he needed to know now.

"I have to go, Dobby," he said through gritted teeth.

"Of course, sir," Dobby bowed.

"Thanks," Harry said, and quickly ran from the room.

He flew up the stairs and into the common room, but Draco wasn't in there. He rushed to the dormitory, and Draco wasn't there, either. However, there was a letter on Harry's bed with his name on the envelope. A letter from the Angel of Reason.

"Screw you," Harry said aloud to the letter. At this moment, he hated everything in association with Draco and the game.

He was being used. Used and betrayed. He was just a pawn in Draco's game, and even if he found him attractive, Draco would leave him to die.

He stormed down to the Room of Magic, slamming the door open, and saw Draco's head jerk up. The blonde was sitting at a desk and had been writing a letter.

"Get in the game. Now."