- Rating:
- R
- House:
- Schnoogle
- Characters:
- Draco Malfoy Harry Potter Lord Voldemort
- Genres:
- Slash Mystery
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Spoilers:
- Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban
- Stats:
-
Published: 02/27/2002Updated: 04/20/2003Words: 75,059Chapters: 10Hits: 18,310
The Princes of Fire & Ice
Shakespearechick
- Story Summary:
- It is time for Draco to play his part in the plans of Voldemort – but they aren’t as glorious has he imagined. Not only does he hate being a pawn, he decides he can’t bring himself to harm Harry either. As mishaps, adventures and angst ensue, both Draco and Harry have to face their feelings, and their fates.
Chapter 04
- Posted:
- 04/22/2002
- Hits:
- 1,313
- Author's Note:
- & Dedications:
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
~Fire and Ice, by Robert Frost~
CHAPTER IV: Kiss & Consume
This intoxication thrills me,
I only pray it doesn’t kill me.
~ Savage Garden~
Harry felt like he had been crawling along in the darkness for ages – it must have been an eternity before he saw Draco stop up ahead and push something resembling another door open. Warily, Harry went though the opening after the blond Slytherin and found himself in another enclosed space; only he could stand up, painful as it was for his aching knees.
“Where are we now-” Harry began before he felt something light and silky brush his cheek as he stood. He jumped noticeably, stumbling slightly into Draco who must have been laughing at him in the dark. Still suspicious, Harry tentatively felt the accosting object – and felt himself blush with the realization that it was merely a shirt. We must be in Malfoy’s wardrobe.
As he considered this point, a bright light began to pierce through his eyes; Draco had opened the doors and was slowly stepping out of his portable and sophisticated closet. His eyes searched back for Harry’s and motioned Harry to quietly extricate himself from the expensive trimmings.
Slowly he stepped down on the smooth, wood flooring that covered the expanse of what must be Draco’s room. Harry couldn’t help but gape in awe.
Where he stood, with the wardrobe behind him, he could look around at the room that must have been a hundred times the size of the cupboard under the stairs. To his left was a wall made of gray stones, covered in some drapes of emerald green and silver parting only for a window that probably overlooked some portion of the estate. On his right the room opened up, revealing a vaulted ceiling and one chandelier in the center of it, unlit now in the approaching dawn. In the center of the whole room resided Draco’s massive four-poster bed, the canopy also in velvety green drapes that matched the spread on the made bed. Atop the covers the Malfoy family crest was quite visible, embroidered in silken, silver thread over the beautiful green background. There were a few other wall hangings, including a small one over what was apparently Draco’s desk, which had the Malfoy crest yet again and then the words: Oderint dum metuant. Of course, Harry noted, other than the sparse furnishings and few expensive looking draperies – there was not much else in this large room of Draco’s. Still…
“God, Malfoy, ever hear the phrase ‘embrarras de richesses?’”
Draco glanced around, appearing quite bored.
“Oh, this is nothing. You should see the other rooms,” he said, his smirk replaced by a blasé tone. “My father always told me things like ‘infra dignitatem’ and ‘magaritas ante porcos.’”
Harry gave him a blank stare.
“It means ‘beneath one’s dignity’ and ‘pearls before swine.’”
“Oh.” Harry looked back over at the words above the desk and pointed. “And what does that happy little motto mean… dare I ask.”
Draco’s statement was unreadable as he read it aloud.
“Oderint dum metuant? It means… ‘let them hate, so long as they fear.’”
Both boys were quiet for a moment, considering, and then Draco moved over towards the wardrobe again, pulling out one of the drawers at the bottom.
“Hold up your hands,” he said briskly, pulling out his wand. Harry obeyed, feeling the cold cuffs against his skin. “Diffindo!” Draco said and the cuffs split and slid off of Harry’s wrists and fell to the floor with a clatter.
“We don’t have much time,” Draco began, scooping them off the floor and shoving them under a pile of clothes in the draw. “Who knows when my father will notice our absence – probably soon. And…”
“Hogwarts!” Harry gasped, remembering suddenly. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter missing – that would not be good at all. How could he have forgotten? What time was it?
“Well, if we can get back soon we’ll just have missed breakfast, maybe one or two classes – should escape the teachers’ notice. But-”
“But,” Harry interrupted, clamping his hand over his mouth. “Ron! Hermione! They’ll notice I’m missing!”
“How inconvenient,” Draco said blandly, and Harry felt rather stupid for saying something so obvious. Draco kicked the drawer shut, obviously satisfied with the hiding of the chains.
“Then again, remind me again why that would be a bad thing?”
Draco smirked.
“You’ve lost your edge, Wonder Boy,” he said rather harshly. “Since when do you tell teachers anything? Since when do you ask for help? Need to be rescued?” He watched Harry’s face harden. “I didn’t think so. It’d be a lot better if this whole was just forgotten – unnoticed by Dumbledore, or Snape…”
“Fine.” Harry said, an edge in his voice. “So then, don’t worry about Ron and Hermione. If they are looking for me I can guarantee it is entirely secret and on their own.”
Draco scoffed but didn’t argue.
“You know though,” Harry began, voicing something that had been bugging him since they had escaped from the cell. “You’re going to have to tell Dumbledore. I mean, your father will know you went back and-”
“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” Draco said curtly, his voice low and dangerous. It startled Harry both by its sinister affect and the way that it still managed to be emotionless. He doesn’t want to think about the consequences either.
“Okay, but you have to promise me-”
Draco suddenly silenced him with a hand, and Harry started to roll his eyes, believing this to be another one of Draco’s more petulant moments in the face of harsh truth, when his counterpart whispered urgently.
“Someone’s coming!”
Harry felt his stomach flip as he, too, heard the distinct sounds of footsteps approaching down the hall. Before his brain could start to react and come up with a solution he felt Draco’s hands grab him by his recently cuffed wrists and, pulling Harry under him, slid both of them neatly under the bed.
Harry was even more surprised at this action and it took a few seconds before he could get over the shock to realize that he was now on his back, under the bed, with Draco lying on top of him.
“Geez, Malfoy, I didn’t know you felt that way-” he said wryly, just as Draco clamped his own hand over Harry’s mouth again. Even in the shadows Harry could see the reflecting iridescent light of Draco’s silver eyes as they peered through the skirt of the bed covers. Draco had his face craned to the side, listening, and it was a lucky thing because Harry wasn’t really sure he should be gazing into Malfoy’s eyes at this juncture of their relationship.
“…are you sure, Master Lucius?”
Draco’s ears perked up as he recognized Lector’s voice. The footsteps were then, logically, his father’s.
“Yes, Lector. I should be pleased Potter is here in my grasp but, I have to check with Our Master. He has other plans.”
Harry’s body tensed involuntarily as the footsteps of Lucius Malfoy halted at the threshold to his son’s room. Lector was apparently hovering around, somewhere near the desk.
Draco froze as well, only then noticing a thin layer of perspiration forming on his own smooth forehead. Perspicacity incarnate! He had not broken a sweat from hovering over the boiling potion, arguing with his father, pulling the Harry’s chains out of the wall, pulling open the cell door or crawling through the small secret tunnel. No, it was now, when he found his body wedged comfortably atop his greatest enemy that he began to sweat.
Harry was slowly realizing that there was something almost pleasurable about having the weight of Draco on top of him. His and Draco’s legs were somewhat tangled up, but their hips seemed to lock together perfectly and through his own chest, Harry could hear the pounding heartbeat of Malfoy. It was a pleasing vibration. Malfoy smelled like cologne, pine and incense – it was making him dizzy.
“There’s nothing here, Sir,” Lector’s ghostly voice announced from somewhere across the room.
“Good. Come then, we shall prepare for our guest.”
There were a few more faint footsteps and then Lector seemed to shut the door because it clicked quietly within the frame. It was only then, after a few seconds, that Draco turned his head back and found himself nose to nose with Harry. He drew in a breath, noticing that Harry smelled like spice, vanilla and fresh soap.
Harry’s warm breath tingled on his cheeks and ears, which were already flushed and Draco felt his own breath coming quicker, in time with his heart. He found himself getting lost in the openness of the emerald eyes that peered back at him, and he could almost sense his counterpart’s own confusion and longing.
This is not happening.
Looking up at Draco’s face Harry felt his heart skip a beat and he unconsciously licked his lips. Oh God. Was that out of nervousness or because I was expecting something? As he was pondering this disturbing development he noticed something else even more horrible.
Oh fuck!
Harry was now sure that every inch of his body was blushing at this moment because he had discovered that his body was reacting rather well to Malfoy – in fact, better than Harry had reacted to anything in quite sometime.
There is no way he cannot have noticed!
Draco smiled secretly as he felt something press against his pelvis, though he didn’t want to consider why.
Well, I do rather like this reaction from Harry… NO!
Finally Draco snapped himself out of the moment and rolled back out from the bed, which was quite unexpected for Harry. The sexual tension that had gone from suffocating to physical rather quickly seemed to dispel instantly, though Harry emerged a little slower after making sure everything was back the way it should be.
Draco decided against offering his hand to help Harry up, choosing to nervously pace over to his desk and take a brief look around. He cleared his throat faintly.
“Hmmm, everything as I remember it. I really don’t know what Lector could have been looking for anyway…”
Harry drew his eyes away from staring at the back of Draco and found himself looking out the window instead. The sun was rising quickly across the horizon and it made Harry’s eyes hurt at the brightness of the rays. He was curious as to whether Draco was really looking for what Lector had taken or if he was just talking to keep them both from having to think about what had just happened.
Almost happened.
Harry didn’t think Draco was one to prattle on needlessly. But then again, he hadn’t thought Draco would have been one to…
Oh stop, this Harry! He scolded himself again. This train of thought was really not productive.
It was then that Draco finished with his evaluation and returned over to the side of the room where Harry stood - though he didn’t venture to look at the Gryffindor. This was quite a test of his self-control, but taking a few deep breaths he felt more composed. He walked over to the window and slid it open gently. With his back still towards Harry he motioned for the other boy to come over next to him – which Harry did, albeit with halting and shuffled steps. Harry craned his neck slightly to look at where Draco was pointing.
“Okay, see that drainpipe there,” Draco asked. Harry did, it was just barely to the left of the window.
“Yes.”
Draco turned and glanced at Harry briefly.
“Good. That’s our way out of here. I’ve done it once or twice before. We’ll just climb out here on the ledge, and then scale down the pipe.”
Harry swallowed thickly, looking at the three-story drop to the dew-soft grass below.
“Why?” Harry cried out hastily out of nervousness.
“What, are we afraid of heights, Potter?” Draco scoffed. Harry gave him a piercing look.
“No, Malfoy. I’m just surprised you’re willing to scuff up your stupid robes.”
“Ouch, Potter! What a shallow prat you take me for.” He bit back a smirk as he stared at Harry. He was feeling more like himself by sparring with Harry again. Potter was so easy to egg on. He cast a casual glance at the descent. “You should know I’d only soil my lovely clothes for an emergency.”
Harry rolled his eyes. He still didn’t like the idea of climbing out the window and sliding down for the drop, but he figured he’d actually done much worse – and he didn’t really have a choice.
“I’ll go first,” Draco continued matter-of-factly. “You’ll have to close the window.”
Draco shoved the rest of the window up, and without any further ado, he delicately swung each leg over onto the ledge and balanced himself with one hand on the pipe. Harry followed suit, though a little more awkwardly. Draco was now holding on to the pipe, allowing Harry more room on the ledge. Harry couldn’t help but admire the easy way Draco was able to move – with the precision and grace of a cat. It made him feel rather gangly himself.
Harry lent his right hand to the pipe to steady himself as he pulled the windowpane down with his left hand.
Below him Draco was making quick progress down the drainpipe. Harry took a few more nervous steps and then wrapped his legs tightly around the pipe and began his own descent down, trying hard not to think of Draco sliding down below him.
Harry was still near the top when he felt a tapping sound running up the pipe. He glanced down to find Draco leaning against the wall, legs crossed, impatiently tapping the pipe with his fingers for Harry to hurry up.
“Bugger,” Harry muttered under his breath and shut his eyes tightly. With a final deep breath he slackened his hold on the pipe and let himself slide down the rest of the way. He landed at the bottom with a slight thud and half-expected a snide comment from Draco.
Instead the blond Slytherin moved over to him with lightening speed and pulled him up easily by his two hands.
“C’mon, Potter. We can’t stick around here any longer!”
Harry felt himself practically fly off the ground with the simple tug from Draco and soon he was stumbling on after him.
“Well, the hard part is over with right? Now we just have to get off the Estate and maybe grab a train to Hogsmeade?”
Draco looked back at Harry, blond hair falling in his eyes. There was a faint amusement in his eyes and something that might have been akin to apprehension.
“Oh no. This is the part where it gets interesting.”
Seamus and Hermione waited expectantly as Ron ran upstairs to the boys’ dorm. They both sat on the couch, where they had resided earlier, before Harry’s absence had become worrisome. Seamus was finding himself increasingly distracted by Hermione’s proximity to him and he became fascinated with how she was chewing her lip, like she always did when she was nervous.
“Hey,” he said gently. “I’m sure Harry’s fine. Even if he is stuck with Malfoy.” He made a face that made Hermione want to giggle as she noted how cute he was when he wrinkled his freckled nose.
“Of course.” She smiled wanly. “I think Harry knew more about what was going on with Malfoy than we do. And, I guess, they are both really good wizards.” She obviously said this grudgingly; complimenting Malfoy was still not an easy task. This time Seamus gagged.
“Okay, for Harry’s sake I hope you’re right,” he said lightly. “But I just can’t come to terms with Malfoy being anything but an insufferable prat and smug, smarmy bastard.”
“Well, he is rather sexy,” she said, completely deadpanned.
There was another gag – only this time it came from the staircase where Ron was.
“Eeeuuuuch! Hermione, you have a terrible sense of humor.”
“Who was joking?” She responded, smiling secretly as she saw both boys look even more disgusted.
“Tell me you came up with some ideas before you started rating Malfoy because Harry’s trunk, nightstand and bed are clear of anything Malfoy related.”
Hermione bit her lip at this, deciding not to inform Ron about how that comment could be taken. She felt Seamus spasm next to her and she figured his dirty mind must have thought about this too, but she needed to think clearly.
“Actually, the more I think about it I get the feeling Seamus’ Portkey theory is probably correct. The problem is trying figure out who made it, who and what it was really intended for, what Malfoy knew, what was up with Malfoy, where they were taken and why.”
“Gee, is that all?” Ron said, looking rather ill. “I bet you the answers are: You-Know-Who, Harry, to kill him, everything, Dark Magic, somewhere evil and – to hurt Harry.”
Hermione could see the pain and worry in his eyes and she instinctively rose from the couch and quickly went to his side to hug him. He responded stiffly at first and then hugged her back.
“Honestly, Ron, I don’t think it is bad as it seems.” She pulled back from her friend and looked at him in the eyes. “We know Dumbledore has quite a few wards up here; Harry’s safe. Plus, having both Harry and Malfoy just disappear without even an attempt at a diversion or an explanation would be too obvious and would be something they would never try. Especially not with Dumbledore.” She stepped back from Ron and looked at the clock nervously. “In fact, I’m not sure how long we can keep this under wraps. Surely the teachers will notice both of them missing at breakfast. And Merlin only knows what Crabbe and Goyle are doing.”
“Probably wandering around like lost, rabid Doberman puppies.” Seamus muttered.
“True,” Hermione said. “But of course, maybe we should be more concerned about the reactions of Malcolm or Blaise. They actually possess brains and surely must have noticed weird things were up with Malfoy as well – maybe they were even in on it. Though, I guess… if they don’t know where he is they are probably just as likely to point this out to the teachers as we are.”
Ron pouted for a little bit, but he wasn’t really feeling any reassured. He was feeling nauseous and powerless; it had been his greatest fear that someday he would fail his friend. He always had wanted to protect Harry – protect him from the grasping hands of fate that pulled him towards destruction, courtesy of Voldemort. Had Ron failed now? Had they let their guard down so easily, so that Harry could just be snatched out from under their noses in the Astronomy Tower with Malfoy? And Ron knew that Malfoy was responsible for Harry’s disappearance.
Hermione could see the wheels of guilt turning in Ron’s head; he was probably near the self-flagellation stage.
“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed. “This is not your fault and it isn’t that bad.”
“Yet,” Ron muttered.
“Hey!” Seamus piped up. “What if it wasn’t You-Know-Who’s plan?”
“Hm?” Hermione turned around to face him.
“Or – not exactly. What if it was, like, Lucius Malfoy? Maybe acting on his own preemptively. He could have easily had his son help him…”
“That’s an interesting point…” Hermione mused. Maybe Seamus had a point; it wouldn’t have been the first time Lucius Malfoy had interfered with their lives. Just as she thought back to second year and poor Ginny and Tom Riddle’s diary, she heard the creak of footsteps on the stairs. All three of the looked up to find a groggy looking Ginny staring at them.
“What’s wrong you guys? It’s almost 5am!”
She looked around, taking in her brother, Hermione, Seamus and… a frown crossed her face as she noted Harry’s absence.
“Where’s Harry?” She asked.
“That’s um… the question, er, problem.” Seamus answered.
“What?” Ginny was aware her voice went up an octave.
“Harry never came back from his meeting with Malfoy,” Hermione said quietly. “We all went to the storage room on the fifth floor and found the potion still boiling. There was no sign of either of them.”
“What-how-why-” Ginny spluttered.
“We don’t know. Possibly a Portkey. Possibly Lucius Malfoy. Definitely has to do with that sneaky-snakey-Slytherin!” Ron said irritably.
“Malfoy?” Ginny whispered.
“Ginny, you seem a little stunned,” Seamus said calmly. “Why don’t you come sit down? I agree with Hermione, by the way,” he said turning back towards Ron. “I think this isn’t as bad as it seems. Plus, we still haven’t ruled at the possibility that they are just somewhere here on the grounds of Hogwarts.”
“True,” Hermione said. “They could, er, be, um…” Lost in the Forbidden Forest? Lying unconscious in the dungeons? Hmmm, neither of these options would make any of them feel any better.
“Okay,” Seamus said. “Let’s just think through this. It really is a matter of waiting. If they don’t appear by fourth period – the teacher’s will probably already be involved.”
“But what if Harry is in trouble now?” Ginny asked, feeling a little more stable with the couch underneath her.
“We can’t just sit around and do nothing!” Ron agreed.
“Fine.” Hermione said. “I totally agree, but we can’t do anything until we know more. Let’s just get through breakfast and then see what happens.” Hermione sat back down on the couch in between Seamus and Ginny. Ron stepped over towards them.
“Okay, until then we brainstorm.” He wiggled his way in between Ginny and Hermione and they all shifted to make room for him. “Let me begin by telling you what Harry did confide to me earlier.”
Harry felt the cool morning chill breeze against his flushed cheeks. It felt very refreshing after the stuffy cell and the heated moment in Draco’s room. The brisk jog was numbing after no sleep and a jailbreak, but it kept Harry from considering Draco’s words moments ago.
This is the part where it gets interesting.
Interesting? What did that mean? Knowing the Malfoy family history for things strange, illegal and really quite deadly he wasn’t sure he minded being in the dark.
Unfortunately his blissful ignorance would not last long. Up ahead Draco and slowed down and was spinning slowly around suspiciously. Harry caught up to him a little breathless and cast his own eyes about the grounds. There was slight fog off in the distance so Harry couldn’t see their way out. He hoped it wasn’t much farther, otherwise Lucius would capture them for sure.
“Wards… curses… beasts…” Draco spun to face Harry with a straight face. “My father has quite the imagination when it comes to going on the defense.”
“Defense? Sounds like going on the offense to me,” Harry muttered.
“My family doesn’t like intruders,” Malfoy continued.
“Yeah, I got that impression,” Harry said blandly. Draco turned back and began proceeded forward cautiously. He pulled his wand out in an effort to sense the various wards and curses.
“I learned all of them over the summer, but my father is also fond of surprises.”
“Swell.” Harry wiped some sweat off of his brow. All he wanted right now was to be back in his bed at Hogwarts. Feeling impatient and willing himself closer to the exit Harry strode forward, getting in front of Draco. They continued like this for a few minutes until something caught Harry’s eye. He stopped in mid stride and Draco barely looked up.
“What?” Draco couldn’t see anything past the trees and fog.
“I-I don’t – I think I saw movement. A dark shadow…” Harry whispered, nervousness creeping into his voice.
“I can’t see anything,” Draco said calmly, glancing around again. He began peering the opposite way when he felt Harry’s hand reach out and grab his arm.
“Holy shit.” It was Harry’s voice, sounding like cracked ice. Draco spun around and felt his own jaw drop in astonishment.
Crawling out of the fog as if from a nightmare was the largest tarantula either boy had ever seen. The bends of each of its fuzzy, spindly legs were level with the tops of the tallest trees. It’s head, complete with multiple beady eyes, towered over the whole tree line.
And yet, Harry thought sardonically, it seems to make perfect sense on these damned grounds. He risked a glance at Draco, whose statement had gone from shock and horror to confusion.
“What the hell is that thing?” Harry hissed.
“Roger?” Draco ventured.
“Are you asking me or telling me?” Harry spat back.
“Bugger, Roger – that is you!” Draco continued, ignoring Harry. Suddenly Draco felt Harry’s touch on his arm turn into a painful pinch. “Ouch!” He glared at Harry.
“Malfoy… that thing is coming towards us, and I don’t think it is the greeting committee.”
Draco rubbed his arm like an injured child.
“I think that’s Roger.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that part.”
“Though, my Roger was not that big,” Draco said, his nose wrinkling. The tarantula was lumbering slowly towards them, each giant leg stretching towards them ominously.
“Your Roger?” Harry squeaked incredulously.
“Yes, when I was younger I had a pet tarantula.”
“You had a pet tarantula, Malfoy? Oh, that’s just typical!”
“Hey – at least I had-” but Draco cut himself off, not feeling the desire to wound Harry with the mention of whose childhood was better. Something flashed through Harry’s eyes, but he raised his chin definitely, ignoring what had been on Draco’s lips.
“And you named it Roger? That’s… so… bland.”
“Well,” Draco flashed a rare smile. “With names like Narcissa, Lucius and Draco – Roger was exotic for me.” He stared back at the spider, which was still blocking their path. A dark shadow passed over his face, though a teasing glint remained in his eyes. “Of course, my father told me Roger had died and had been flushed down the toilet.” His eyes narrowed as he regarded the giant resurrected Roger. “Lying bastard.”
At this point Harry wasn’t sure whether to laugh hysterically or run screaming and crying the opposite direction. He took a deep breath.
“Okay, well, um… that’s a touching, sentimental story and all, but – Malfoy, I think we’re going to have to fight it.”
“You’re going to have to kill it, Potter,” Draco said looking at Harry with eyes wide.
“Me? Don’t you mean us?” Harry, his voice sounding panicky. Draco looked shocked.
“Potter,” he said in an amazed voice. “I can’t be expected to kill Roger. Roger was my pet. Roger was my friend-”
“Malfoy!” Harry choked out, wanting to strangle Draco and his mocking tone. How could he do that in a situation like this? “I think your dear ‘friend’ and ‘pet’ is not so loyal to you anymore… look.” He pointed at the spider, which was now too close for comfort. It stared the boys down; gnashing it’s enhanced fangs and twitching its front legs menacingly.
“Ah, well,” Draco began nonchalantly. “With friends like that who needs enemies?”
He was very aware of Harry staring at him like he had lost it, and the twitch in Harry’s face let him know the other boy was also dying to smack some sense into him. Draco bit back a smile and outstretched his wand towards the manor. He prayed no one was around the fencing and armory rooms.
“Accio: swords!”
Harry watched, still stunned by Draco’s reaction to Roger, as two silver swords zoomed out of a distant window, speeding towards them deadly as arrows. Instinctively, Harry ducked – only to watch in amazement as Draco deftly slipped his wand back into his pocket to allow himself to catch both swords effortlessly.
He turned towards a shaken Harry and smiled broadly.
“Go ahead, Potter, you have to admit: that was a damn fine catch.”
“Oh, shut up,” Harry grumbled at Draco’s boastful tone, even as the deadly arachnid began hissing at them. Draco grinned again and tossed one of the swords toward Harry, which he caught.
“Maybe I should warn you,” Draco said quietly as they both took tentative steps towards Roger. “I think this could get messy.”
It was Harry’s turn to wrinkle his nose as he considered getting splattered spider gook all over himself – it would be different from the feel of the blood that soaked his clothes after he killed the basilisk. He glanced nervously back up at the monstrosity before him, risking only a smile at the thought of Ron’s reaction to this obstacle. Roger was much larger and less ‘friendly’ than Aragog.
Roger must have invaded Draco’s personal space first, because he lunged forward with determined grace as he skillfully stabbed one of the eight flailing extremities. It gave a horrible shrieking screech and Harry was positive one of the eyes was glaring at his former owner.
“I don’t think he liked that,” Harry noted as he thrust forward with his own sword, deflecting a swipe from Roger.
“Well, I didn’t like how easily he forgot all our good times,” Draco continued sarcastically as he backed up from two legs, which were trying to squeeze him. “Maybe this time he’ll remember me with a little more respect.”
Harry stabbed forward again, and he felt the sickening squish as his blade plunged deep into the protective covering of its legs. This time Roger reacted quicker, using a free limb to knock Harry down. He skidded across the grass painfully and felt blood seeping out of a few minor cuts on his shoulder. Without thinking his instincts took over and he clambered back up and charged back at the arachnid. His sword moved faster than he could follow and he felt it cut and slice at Roger, and he felt himself slowly pushed backward as Roger fought him ferociously and furiously. The shrieking became almost deafening.
Through all the flailing and thrashing Harry caught sight of his blond counter-part, not as bloodied as Harry was, continuing his own deadly assault on Roger.
Draco’s shoulder was beginning to ache as he continued parrying with Roger. He had a fencing stamina and was naturally athletic, but fighting a giant tarantula had forced him to modify his strategy. He had to thrust upward more to make any contact and puncturing the hard shell of the spider required even more strength.
This could go on forever, Draco thought miserably. He was suddenly very put-off by images of him and Harry, hours later, still hacking at Roger inch by inch. This would not do at all.
He could see Harry fighting off Roger haltingly and occasionally getting in a good blow and he began to wonder if his father was aware that this was going on in his front yard. They definitely didn’t have any more time to hang around here.
“Divert him!” Draco called over to Harry. Harry looked up skeptically, but launched into a frantic assault on the beast, slashing at Roger from all directions so that all eight of the spider’s eyes were hardened on Harry. Taking this opportunity, Draco took a deep breath and moved in between two of the hairy legs. Draco abruptly ducked under the legs and, situating himself under Roger’s abdomen, he thrust the blade upward with all the force and strength he had left. He felt the gruesome crunch and splitting as he pierced the vitals of the spider. Draco quickly regained his composure and rolled out from under the crushing weight of Roger as the spider began to collapse from his fatal wound.
Harry pulled back as Roger jerked and spasmed after Draco’s blow, but he gave one last plunge into the cursed monster with his own blade before dropping it, bloodied and goopy on the grass. He staggered over to Draco who was still breathing heavily, crouched on the ground. Draco looked up at Harry and smiled faintly. He twirled his sword slowly in his fingers before stabbing it into the moist ground and pulled himself up with it. Casually he brushed back wisps of hair with his dirtied hand and glanced over Harry’s wounded shoulder. His fingers gingerly pulled the shirt apart and Harry flinched slightly.
“It looks worse than it is,” Harry said smoothly. “It’s just a scratch.”
“Ah,” Draco nodded. “There’s a lot of blood, but it’s already scabbing over.”
Harry nodded slightly, feeling a shiver at Draco’s touch. The blond’s hand fell gently back to his sides and he surveyed the carcass wearily.
“If we were so lucky to have escaped undetected up until this point, I can guarantee the death of Roger will break that.” He walked over to where Harry’s sword lay and picked it up along with his own.
“I agree,” Harry said. “I say we haul ass to the train station.”
“I second the motion,” Draco said as he began to jog again, a slight limp due to the exertion of the battle.
“Hey, Malfoy?” Harry called out suddenly.
“What?” Draco turned around briefly.
“Well,” Harry began, catching up to Draco and continuing the brisk pace towards the exit. “I’ve chalked up a lot of our luck to your father underestimating Muggle tactics and then being overconfident about his power over you and me but…”
“But?” Draco persisted, barely pausing to speak as he closed in on freedom. As they passed the entrance to the forest he gave a wild toss to each sword and watched as they disappeared into the foliage.
“Um, aside from Roger, don’t you think that was rather easy?”
“Hell yes,” Draco said without skipping a beat as they exited the grounds.
Harry tapped his foot mindlessly as he leaned up against the wall at the train station. Draco was getting their tickets, and while he waited Harry’s gaze lingered on the clock attached to the wall. He motioned to it airily as Draco walked up, shoving a ticket in Harry’s palm.
“Almost six am,” Harry said languidly. He was feeling the effects of having had no sleep for over twenty-four hours, the kidnapping and escape – and then that battle…
Draco nodded lazily as the train doors slid open.
“By the time we get there we will have missed breakfast. It will be a narrow run to Potions…”
“Swell,” Harry stepped up into the deserted car and collapsed into one of the bench seats. He regretted his clumsiness immediately when his shoulder banged the back and caused him to wince.
“Just a scratch?” Draco asked, one eyebrow raised, as he took the seat across from Harry.
“I’ve had worse,” Harry muttered as the pain subsided and pure exhaustion took over. Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance at this but didn’t say anything else. Harry found himself gazing at Draco intently, and the memories from the bedroom scene came flooding back. He swallowed thickly and looked out the window, but his eyes were drooping involuntarily from the need to rest and to not look at Draco.
Draco watched Harry as he placed his head sleepily against the window.
“Don’t let me stop you, Potter – nap away.”
Harry’s head snapped back up at attention. He laughed softly.
“Yeah, okay.” He regarded Draco for a moment. Surely the Slytherin was just as tired as him if not more so; Draco probably hadn’t had a good night sleep since he had been wearing that amulet. And with that thought Harry remembered now the danger that Draco was in, more so than himself. Draco had rebelled against his heritage and had defied his father as well as Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy would not let his son live in ease and comfort at Hogwarts much longer. “Don’t pretend you’re not ready to lie down and sleep for years as well.”
A laugh escaped Draco’s lips before he sobered up.
“Maybe. But honestly, I don’t really feel like falling asleep unguarded on the train right now.”
Harry gaped at him, but luckily stopped the answer that he could watch out for Draco. After all, the truce had been temporary and… maybe Draco was afraid what would happen if he fell asleep with Harry there and … Harry felt his cheeks flush as Draco continued to stare at him. He couldn’t think straight. He decided to change the subject.
“You’re going to tell Dumbledore when we get back, right? Because if you don’t I will.”
Draco’s gaze turned cold as steel as he regarded the Gryffindor across from him.
“You have to, Malfoy. He’s the only one who can keep you safe from Voldemort. And I’m sure your father will not abandon you after we’ve escaped…. After you freed me as well.” Harry looked with concern upon Draco who now had moved his head down into the palms of his hands. He was massaging his temples slowly and seemed content to stare at the floor.
“Potter, I don’t want to talk about this now,” he mumbled, his voice strained.
“Okay,” Harry said softly, leaning forward. “But I won’t let you pretend this isn’t serious and that is hasn’t affected you.” Draco’s head snapped up at that last remark and Harry jumped slightly as his eyes became locked with Draco’s silver ones. Draco swallowed the challenge in his throat and instead grew angry out of the intense dislike for anything sounding like consoling or handling by anyone. He had picked that up from his father, and so it was as if Harry had insulted him by insinuating that he was weak.
“Don’t presume anything about me, Potter, including the fact that I won’t simply turn around and hand you right back over to Voldemort and my father.” He spat this at Harry out of rage and hurt and other feelings he didn’t want to fathom. It would make my life simpler, he thought dully. To his surprise Harry didn’t recoil or back down, instead he leaned in closer, closing the gap in between them. Draco could feel the heat radiating from Harry’s body and it thrilled him. Harry reached out and placed his hand tentatively on Draco’s arm, and Draco didn’t pull back, though his statement did not soften.
“I’d be surprised if Dumbledore hasn’t suspected something already,” Harry said quietly, but Draco was no longer paying attention to what was coming out of Harry’s mouth; he could only focus on Harry’s lips. He felt his heartbeat accelerate rapidly as he remained focused on everything Harry around him – the touch of Harry’s hand still on his shoulder, the emotion running vividly through his eyes, his parted lips, his flushed skin…
Harry felt his own hormones taking over as he realized how very, very close he was to Draco. Without thinking his face moved up to Draco’s, his nose brushing the Slytherin’s pale and smooth cheek ever so gently. Draco began to lift his head, in faint surprise, and Harry found Draco’s lips. They met easily, Harry leaning desperately forward into the kiss and felt Draco’s own lips unfreeze and kiss back.
Draco himself was shocked to find Harry suddenly all the way across the aisle with his spare hand now on Draco’s thigh; Harry’s lips were as warm as Draco’s were cool, but together they smoldered. Harry’s tongue flickered around Draco’s mouth curiously, searching for furious completion at the long-anticipated desire of tasting Draco’s sweetness for himself. Draco pushed harder back on Harry’s lips, hoping to quench his own long-suffering desire for his enemy. The contact was almost therapeutic. The sweet kiss fulfilled a need Harry hadn’t known he had had – the desperate longing to feel the passion of another person so intensely. For Draco it filled the void that was left by his cold world with control, lies and zero passion.
The kiss was becoming needy as Draco sucked harder on Harry’s lips and Harry moved his hand up Draco’s thigh and over his back, caressing the perfect arch of Malfoy’s spine. Each one moved frantically, heeding only desire and hormones. It was when the first clear thought managed to penetrate into Draco’s mind that he suddenly realized what was happening and he pulled back suddenly. Harry tumbled back slightly at the abrupt way Draco pulled away and he looked a little dazed and confused.
Nervously, Draco pushed his hair back again and forced himself to sit as far back as possible in the seat. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Harry as he tried to catch his breath and forget the feeling of warmth, energy and excitement that had tinged every inch of his body as it surged through his veins.
Harry watched Draco in confusion, licking his own lips subconsciously and remembering the feel of Draco’s lips on his. Awkwardly he sat back in his own seat and felt a pang of hurt and rejection that Draco was now intent on looking out the window and not at him.
What the fuck was that? Harry wondered, his brain buzzing incessantly. I started it. Holy shit, I kissed Malfoy.
His eyes flickered up to Draco and then back to the floor.
And Malfoy kissed me back.
Harry shifted uncomfortably in the seat feeling totally lost. It was bad enough trying to keep up with what was happening in the world outside, let alone inside his own heart and brain.
The tense and awkward moment continued, both boys lingering in the silence of their own thoughts and guilt. Harry decided the silence had now lasted too long to even remark on what had happened in any sort of apologetic way. Still…
“Malfoy?” Harry questioned, the hesitation heavy in his voice.
“Yes?” Malfoy answered tonelessly.
Harry’s brain found this moment appropriate to lose all speech capabilities. Harry couldn’t think of any words to say, and he flushed as Draco stealthily moved his stare over to Harry.
Ahhh! Say something! Harry yelled inwardly. They couldn’t just leave it at this awkwardness. Life was complicated enough as it was.
“Look, Potter, let’s just move on, okay?” Draco said suddenly.
“Uh… okay…” Harry said nervously, feeling like a guilty child waiting for his scolding.
Draco observed Harry’s emotions carefully – at least he wasn’t alone. After all, if Harry hadn’t kissed him first he would not have been able to guarantee that he would not have kissed Harry.
“It’s fine, Potter,” he drawled again. “Besides, I understand. I am damn sexy – it’s hard to resist.”
Before Draco averted his face Harry caught the half-smile that cracked through on Draco’s lips.
Hmmm, Harry considered. A sarcastic joke – boastful, no less. I guess things are on their way back to being normal.
But what was normal? Was normal Harry and Draco hating each other as bitter archrivals? Or was it helping each other escape and battling the dark side together? Or was it the semi-admiring sarcastic banter? Or was it snogging on a train?
“You kissed back,” Harry muttered irritably in response and he thought he saw Draco choke on that thought for a minute.
Then, blissfully, they were saved when the train pulled up into the station at Hogsmeade and they disembarked, still limping from all their exertions. Harry glanced up at the clock and sighed.
“Breakfast is ending…” he said.
“Yes,” Draco said as he walked on faster. Harry wasn’t sure where Draco kept his energy reserve, but he could definitely do with his own boost just to keep up. “When we get to Hogwarts, go to your room and grab and clean robe and your potions books. I’ll do the same and probably see you in the hallway by the door. At least if we enter late together, someone might believe we either spent breakfast fighting or doing last minute work on our project.”
“The potion!” Harry gasped, suddenly recalling their project still boiling on the fifth floor.
“Don’t worry about it,” Draco said casually. “I’ve got some I made earlier.”
“What?” Harry hissed.
“You know,” Draco looked at him and winked, “I have lots of interesting things down in my personal cell in the Slytherin dungeon.”
Harry grimaced, not wanting to think what Dark Arts potions and other objects Draco had in his possession. Then another thought struck him.
“You have your own room?”
“Yep,” Draco smirked. “Courtesy of an arrangement between my father and Snape. I guess father thought it would be easier for me to… work for them… if I had no prying roommates.”
“Swell,” Harry muttered as they trekked up the hill, Hogwarts visible at the top.
Somewhere, up stairs, a door banged open and shut and Ron bolted upright from the floor. He looked around groggily trying to remember why he had fallen asleep on the rug on the floor of the Common Room. Next to him, on his right, his sister Ginny was curled up asleep. His gaze drifted up to the couch where Seamus was sprawled, head at one end, and Hermione slept, head on the opposite end.
“We fell asleep…” he whispered. He could tell from the ongoing noise upstairs that everyone was getting around for breakfast. He nudged Ginny gently.
“Ginny…Ginny… get up.”
She rolled over and looked at him bleary-eyed.
“Ugh, I think I’m just going to sleep for another couple of years.”
Ron ignored her as he drew himself up into a standing position. He stepped closer to the couch and shook Seamus’ shoulders. Seamus opened his eyes in confusion and then seemed to remember why he was feeling so achy on the couch. He sat up, moving his stiff legs from off the couch and placing them on the floor.
By this point Hermione had already begun stirring and when Seamus stood up her eyes flew open, completely awake.
“Ah! What time is it?”
“It’s almost breakfast time,” Ron smiled.
“It’s okay, we didn’t miss it,” Seamus chuckled through a yawn.
“Seamus,” she said sharply, throwing him a look. “You know that is not what I was concerned about.”
“Well, we didn’t miss Harry waltzing back either, with or without Malfoy,” he continued blandly. Ron had to admire how Seamus never flinched at Hermione’s vexed looks and irritated comments. Ron decided managing his temper was something he just couldn’t grasp so, when Hermione was bossy or sharp he felt the need to retort. That’s how they always got into their arguments.
However, Ron smothered the smile because the mention of Harry’s name made him remember all the worry and the feeling of helplessness.
“Ug!” Hermione got up and slapped Seamus on the shoulder, but he just grinned sweetly back at her.
“Okay, everyone. Upstairs, grab some new robes, and then off we go to breakfast. We have some things to figure out.” Ron shooed them all a head of him.
Ginny paused at the bottom of the stairs and turned around to face Ron. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder and looked at him in the eye. Ron looked up at her, surprised.
“Something wrong?” He asked with brotherly concern in his voice. Ginny smiled warmly at him and shook her head softly. Then a faint frown crossed her face.
“You tell me – are you okay?”
“What? Oh, yeah… yeah,” Ron laughed nervously and ran his fingers through his unkempt hair.
Ginny peered at him suspiciously.
“Are you sure? Because I know you feel responsible for whatever danger Harry might be in now. It’s not your fault, we are doing all we can and I’m sure he’s perfectly fine.” Ron scoffed a little at this, though he was grateful for his sister’s concern. “We all know Harry is really good at getting himself out of sticky situations.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m sure he won’t let Malfoy get the better of him,” Ron smiled wanly and then gave a stern look to Ginny. “Now, up you go – go get ready!” Ginny laughed a little and began to hop up the stairs. “And don’t take long!”
Ron, Hermione, Seamus and Ginny all sat around barely able to eat anything – not because worry was eating at their appetite, but because they kept talking about what they should do.
“We have to wait until after potions – we can’t all be missing. Snape will definitely flip his lid,” Seamus whispered, keeping his voice low so a distracted Dean Thomas wouldn’t overhear. So far the excuse that Harry had said he needed to finish some homework in the library had worked for the rest of the Gryffindors.
“I agree,” Hermione murmured. “Plus, we aren’t sure yet where Harry and Malfoy are. I think we should make casual contact with the Slytherins – even if we just have to insult them about something. Maybe they’ll let slip something about Malfoy if we point out his absence.” Ron wrinkled his nose at this but considered it the best option.
“Yeah,” he nodded gravely. “Otherwise we have no leads.”
“I wonder what Harry really suspected about Malfoy,” Ginny mused.
“Did you just say something about Malfoy?” Neville asked, looking up from his breakfast.
“Uh…” Ginny said.
“We were just talking about those potion presentations,” Hermione covered glibly.
“Yep,” Seamus joined in heartily. He winked at Hermione. “I know the love potion Hermione and I concocted is perfect.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him but smiled slightly.
“Ah,” Neville said, taking another bite and turning back to whatever Dean was explaining to Lavender Brown.
Ginny gave a faint sigh of relief and Seamus smiled at her encouragingly. Ron glanced up at the clock impatiently.
“Humph, it’s time for potions,” he swept his books of the table and stood up with the rest of the Gryffindors. “Let’s get this over with.”
“He’s going to notice the absence of his two favorites,” Seamus hissed down the row at Hermione. “His favorite student and his favorite student to pick on.” Their plan to wait out potions was failing already as they all began to wonder how they could get Snape to not ask where Harry was. The doubt was now coming in rampant waves.
Hermione was watching door nervously, awaiting Snape’s entrance. Seamus was probably right, Harry and Malfoy’s absence at breakfast could be overlooked, but in class on the day of their presentation? Snape would ask them where Harry was. And she’d have to lie and pretend to go get him. And then… run away so she didn’t have to face Snape ever again?
Ron wasn’t any calmer, tapping the oaken desk with his fingers. It was irritating Hermione but she was still wrapped up in what story to tell Snape. Maybe he would ask Malcolm or Blaise where Malfoy was first…
Just then the door flew open and Snape made his usual brisk entrance. He reached his desk and, throwing down the stack of papers he had, surveyed the class with his cool stare.
Hermione saw a shadow cross his face as he saw Malfoy’s empty seat and his eyes roamed up to Harry’s – but he said nothing of it.
“Today,” he drawled, “We have a few presentations to listen to. The rest will go tomorrow.” Snape glanced down at a list written on the parchment in his hand. Hermione was staring at his greasy hair and sharp face and she was willing that somebody – anybody – else was going first. Would he really be so evil as make Malfoy and Harry go first?
Snape looked up. “Looks like we will first be dealing with one of the more interesting potions that has some very useful purposes.” He smiled grimly and it made Hermione shiver. She knew what he was going to say before he even opened up his mouth again. “Veritaserum.”
Ron jumped guiltily beside her, but before Hermione had time to lose her cool reserve the door swung open again. She looked up and gazed in surprise and disbelieving awe at the sight before her: standing in the threshold were Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.
2: I have to thank my friend Kyla for getting the ball rolling when it came to “Roger”. I asked for a beast and she delivered, not only with the HP-staple of giant spiders but also with the whole background story!! I love it, I love it, I love it!!!