The Princes of Fire & Ice

The Princes of Fire & Ice (5/?)

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 V: Hot Ice and Wondrous Strange Snow

I am the Love that dare not speak its name.

~Lord Alfred (“Bosie”) Douglas~

My only love sprung from my only hate!

Too early seen unknown, and known too late!

Prodigious birth of love it is to me,

That I must love a loathed enemy.

~Romeo and Juliet ~

Tumbling guiltily out of the door and into the classroom were the two boys, their robes billowing and wrinkled, their hair windblown and their breaths coming in short little spats.

“Sorry, Professor,” Malfoy said as breezily as possible as he sauntered down to take his seat. Harry barely mumbled something as well before Ron’s hand reached out and pulled him down into the seat on the end.

“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter – how good of you both to join us.” To Harry’s chagrin he got Snape’s sneer, not Malfoy. “We were all just eagerly awaiting a presentation on Veritaserum.”

“Ah, yes,” Draco said casually, getting up from his desk he had just lounged in. A little more reluctantly Harry felt himself stand up, the shocked eyes of his friends still upon him. They still couldn’t be sure he was really here, and now he was getting pulled away into the hell known as ‘doing-a-presentation-for-Snape-with-Malfoy’. Ron was sure Harry had winced in pain when he had tugged his friend’s arm. 

Harry gave a wild, halfway apologetic look at his friends before he headed listlessly down the aisle meeting Malfoy at the front of the classroom. Snape was looking amused at Harry’s discomfiture and Harry fought the irrational urge to run up to him and kick him in the shin. Instead, he stood next to Draco who was looking at him with unmistakable amusement. Harry was getting even more annoyed by the second! Why was Draco being so smarmy about this? Oh wait, Harry thought morosely. All snogging aside, he is still Malfoy.

“Ready, Potter?” Draco murmured in a drole voice as he regarded his partner. Harry just glared back at him and then took a deep breath. Some of his classmates were starting to give them weird looks. Luckily, Draco decided at that moment to reach into his robe and pull out a glass bottle filled with a crystal clear liquid Harry could only assume was the Veritaserum. This got several “ooooohs” from the front rows, and Harry had to admit it was beautiful in it’s simplicity. It reminded him of when Snape had threatened him with Veritaserum and then it had been used on Barty Crouch, Jr… He hoped it met with Snape’s satisfaction.

Draco gave him one last expectant look and Harry decided it was now or never. He had done the research after all, so he had to talk about the truth serum now why everyone else goggled at Draco and his perfect little potion.

Goggle? Harry felt himself shiver. Did I just say that? Was that jealousy?

He screamed internally and then began talking.

“Veritaserum is one of the most complicated potions to make, as it is a much more concentrated version of the regular truth serum. It has effects similar to the illegal Veritas curse, and therefore has the potential for misuse. However, it is harmless to the person that drinks it and is not permanent, so the Ministry has yet to pass a bill to ban it, though a few votes have come close. The difference between an average-strength truth serum and Veritaserum comes from its special properties of…”

Hermione found her mind drifting as Harry rambled through the information she had helped him look up over a week ago. She was extremely relieved that he was back, and apparently unharmed, but so far she didn’t have the faintest idea what had happened or what was going through his mind. He had seemed relieved to see all of them as well, but he was acting weird with Malfoy. And they had come in together… which meant Harry hadn’t had to flee Malfoy or anything like that. It was still very puzzling and she could barely sustain her agitation and wait for the class to be over so they could have Harry tell them all exactly what had happened and where he had been for the whole night and morning. She sighed again, but then the sound of Snape’s voice jolted her back to the front of the class where Harry had apparently finished his informative session.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Now, which one of you is going to test out this mixture?”

Harry almost choked as he suddenly looked wildly over at Draco. His eyes met with a just as startled looking Draco who was becoming rapidly paler. Their eyes locked together with the fervent questioning. Who is going to take the potion? It was a question they had never come to in their preparations, mainly because of their kidnapping and then also because they both knew they would never come to an agreement. All the horrible things they knew about each other that could be revealed by one drop of the potion flashed before their eyes. All the things, as enemies, they longed to force each other to say hung whispering in the air. And yet, Harry knew his pleading that Draco take it wouldn’t work because Draco would refuse and Snape would make Harry take it in the end.

“Um, I’ll take it, and Malfoy can… question me,” Harry said quietly. If he had looked up to the back rows he would have seen pure horror cross Ron’s already reddening face.

Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to trust Draco’s potion-making skills as well as then letting him be so vulnerable at the hands of his enemy, but surely Draco wouldn’t ask him anything too… personal or too… damning. After all, Harry might just accidentally let some interesting truths about Draco slip out as well. Like he’s a damn fine kisser! Draco seemed to realize this threat and danger as he took a deep breath and turned towards the bottle.

“Well, then,” he muttered as he picked up the bottle and turned back to face the class. He unscrewed the lid and revealed the eyedropper underneath. “One drop of this, ladies and gentlemen, is enough to make young Potter here spout the whole truth and nothing but the truth for the remainder of this class period.”

Harry swallowed thickly and wished Draco didn’t sound so delighted. There were sniggers from the Slytherins and hushed gasps of horror from the Gryffindors. Draco placed the dropper in the liquid, and then pulled it out again, revealing perhaps three drops worth in the vile.

Harry shot daggers at him.

“One drop, Malfoy,” He hissed as he opened his mouth and closed his eyes. Draco merely nodded and, placing the dropper above Harry’s mouth, let one diamond drop land on Harry’s tongue.

Harry drew his tongue back quickly at swallowed. The potion fizzed slightly but had a pleasant berry taste. Maybe Malfoy was actually a really clever potions student. He opened his eyes and found Draco staring back at him, eyes wide with anticipation. Harry smiled grimly and faced the class. He could feel the one-drop whizzing through his veins, heading straight for his brain. There was a moment of cloudiness and then the emptiness that made Harry feel like an open book.

Draco smiled back and then seemed to ponder the appropriate questions for a moment. Finally, he turned to Harry.

“What is your full name?”

“Harry James Potter.”

“Age?”

“Sixteen.”

“Where are your parents?”

“Dead,” Harry heard his voice answer hollowly and he cast an imperceptible look of hurt in Draco’s direction at this turn in questioning. 

“Who killed them?” Draco pressed on, trying to ignore the tension rapidly coming from Harry and the Gryffindor side of the room. Snape looked fascinated.

“Voldemort,” Harry said in a whisper. Draco nodded clinically.

“Have you ever lied to a teacher, Potter?” He asked dramatically, clearing his throat. Harry tried to bit his lip, but it was too late.

“Yes.”

“Ever done something outlawed by the Ministry of Magic?”

“Yes.” Harry squirmed again. He was going to kill Draco for this.

“What class do you like best?”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed for the next question.

“Do you ever cheat at Quidditch?”

“No!” Harry yelled.

“Really?” Draco seemed either genuinely intrigued or put-off and disappointed. It was time for a final question.

“Do you like Professor Snape’s Potions class?” Harry could have killed Draco for the smug and evil smile that was in his ‘partner’s’ eyes at this moment.

“No…” Harry said, looking at the floor. The Slytherins were laughing.

Malfoy looked expectantly up at Snape as if to say, ‘okay, we’re done here.’ Harry held his breath, dreading what Snape would ask him. But the barrage never came.

“Very well,” Snape said finally, his reaction well hidden. “You may both take your seats. Up next…”

Of course, Snape has no reason to think I wasn’t in my dorm last night, he figured logically. Or that I was kissing his precious Slytherin student on the train…

Harry didn’t hear or see what next two poor souls were heading up to the front because he was looking furiously at the ground as he passed Malfoy and made his way up back to his seat.

He slumped down next to Ron who gave him a sympathetic look, as did Hermione.

“It’s okay, Harry,” Hermione whispered.

“No, it’s not,” Harry said miserably into the desk. “And, remember, everything I say now is the truth.”

For split second Ron regretted that Harry’s moment of truthfulness was going to waste, as they couldn’t continue discussing anything during class. Then he scolded himself for thinking of taking such advantage of Harry’s personal thoughts, not to mention the assumption that Harry lied to him often. He decided to pass the rest of the class by sending deadly looks into the back of Malfoy’s head. If only looks could kill…

When the class ended and Snape slipped into his office in the back Harry stood up and looked at Ron, Hermione and Seamus.

“If you want to wait for me outside, I’ll just be a second,” he said darkly as he looked at Malfoy’s bent head gathering his books. “I just have some last minute… things to clear up.”

Ron started to protest but Hermione pinched him and shoved him towards the door with an understanding nod, but mute concern in her eyes. They walked quickly out the door and gathered against the opposite wall in the hallway.

“Well, he seems alright,” Seamus noted diplomatically.

“Yeah…” Hermione said slowly. Ron was still glaring at the door, as if he could make Malfoy combust through the centimeters of wood and space. His concentration was distracted when he heard his sister’s voice suddenly rise above the rest of the noise in the hallway.

“Ron! Any news?” she gasped breathlessly as she scurried up to them.

“Yes, Harry walked in a few minutes late to class with Malfoy. We haven’t gotten a chance to ask him anything yet, though.” Ron said, nodding towards the door and indicating they were waiting for him to emerge.

“But he’s okay?” Ginny gushed, with much relief in her voice.

“Yep. Two arms, two legs and a deepened dislike for Malfoy, it would seem.” Seamus said. Hermione jabbed him again and they all leaned back, waiting…

Harry waited for them to pass before he headed down to meet Malfoy walking up the aisle alone. He was at least relieved to feel that the truth potion was out of his system.

“Malfoy,” he said, grabbing the Slytherin’s arm by surprise. “What the hell was that?”

“What was what, Potter?” Malfoy said, his eyes darting to Harry’s face.

“You know exactly what I mean,” snarled Harry. “And, by the way, thanks for volunteering to take your own medicine.”

Draco was surprised with the amount of bitterness in Harry’s voice. He thought he had done pretty well, and while Harry’s injured tone hurt him in a way he had never felt before, he was damned if he was going to apologize.

“Potter, I don’t know what you are going on about. One of us had to take it – better everyone’s favorite goody-goody wizard than the spawn of a Death Eater.” He looked at Harry determinedly. “Look, would it have been better if I asked the questions everyone really wanted to know? ‘What did you do last night?’, ‘What’s it like to defeat Voldemort?’ , ‘Who are you madly in love with?’”

Harry’s eyes widened a little; he admitted he hadn’t really thought about this – how Draco could really have satisfied his classmates’ curiosity.

“Besides,” Draco continued, his agitation rising. “I didn’t make you confess anything everyone didn’t know already. Of course you’ve lied to a teacher and of course you’ve broken Ministry rules – hell –half the time Dumbledore awards points to you for it. And as for Snape, well, I think it’s rather obvious to everyone that you hate that class. All Gryffindors do. So, I just made you say it aloud. But I think, considering the alternatives, you should be bloody well thankful for what I asked you!”

Harry stared at him in a dumb silence. He was beginning to feel slightly guilty about harping on Malfoy so much; what questions would he have come up to ask Malfoy that wouldn’t have revealed too much? But then one of the first questions came back to mind…

“Fine. But… what about that stuff about my parents…” He said softly. Draco looked at him and shrugged guiltily.

“I’m really sorry about that, Potter, but… I had to throw a Slytherin question in there.” He pushed the door open and let Harry through. “After all, you have to remember I still hate you.”

Harry was going to laugh until he realized that out of nowhere a very angry-looking Ron was charging at Malfoy.

“You bloody prat – we hate you just as much-” Ron was truly foaming at the mouth and it took both the efforts of Harry, who had jumped in front of Draco instinctively, and Seamus to pull him back. Draco barely flinched, gazing up and down Ron as if he was inspecting a peasant. Harry let go of Ron as he stopped struggling and briefly wondered how he and Draco could have forgotten to notice they had left the confines of the classroom. Of course, he thought cynically, maybe Draco had noticed.

“How quaint, Potter,” Draco drawled in an unfazed manner. “Bodyguards.” He surveyed the scene and his eyes left Ron to rest on Seamus and Hermione. Seamus had let go of Ron had had moved rather close and protectively towards Hermione. Draco grinned at this development.

“Gee, Finnigan, looks like you finally got yourself a girlfriend there.”

Harry’s head whipped to look at Seamus and Hermione who were standing rather close. With a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach he looked back to Draco.

“Shove off, Malfoy,” Seamus spat. “You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” Draco scoffed. “Of what?”

“The fact that you can’t even get a girl to kiss you,” Ron said fiercely and irrationally, stepping forward. Harry felt his heart pause for a second as images of himself kissing Malfoy popped up, but he quickly dismissed those.

“Oh, honestly…” Hermione began to mutter at all of the boys. Surely Ron, Seamus and even Malfoy were not going to stoop to this immature level. How old were they, anyways?

“Oh really?” Draco said with a smug and coy smile on his face. Harry abruptly gasped, sensing what Malfoy was going to do, but it was too late. Malfoy was going to pick up the gauntlet with flourish and style, and throw in back it Ron’s face.

In one fell swoop Malfoy had pulled Ginny, who had up until this moment been merely watching the exchange between her friends and Malfoy, close in to him and kissed her full on the lips.

Ginny barely knew what was happening when suddenly cool and delicious lips were pressing on her own. Before she could think about who this was, she felt her own mouth open, giving in to the kiss and allowing Malfoy’s tongue to explore. Malfoy! The thought struck her like a bolt of lightning, but the electricity of the kiss was too enticing to make herself stop – she couldn’t resist and she found herself kissing Malfoy back with all the intensity that she could muster and-

“MALFOY! OFF – MY – SISTER – ” Ron’s shrieks pierced her skull and she felt his hands pushing Malfoy away and pulling her to ‘safety’.

Ron moved Ginny back behind him, standing in front of her protectively, but Malfoy just stood there with a smirk. Harry and Seamus moved to restrain Ron again, though Seamus seemed to be taking his time.

“Well then,” Malfoy winked at Ginny and Ron. “Weasley, you just let me know how I got rated later.” With that he walked off confidently down the hallway towards the Slytherin dungeons.

A perfect ten, Ginny thought at him unabashedly as she watched him go.

“Holy fuck, what the hell was that-” Ron was spluttering. Harry patted him numbly on the shoulder, a little disturbed at the Draco-Ginny kiss himself.

“Breathe, Ron. Don’t worry about it right now.”

Ron turned to Harry at the sound of his voice and actually did breathe. For a moment he was able to forget Malfoy’s latest insult because he was again relieved that Harry was here all right. Harry was standing right here with him, as loyal to Ron as Ron was to Harry.

“Wow,” Seamus said, giving it an interesting roll due to his accent.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Hermione said faintly. She looked over at Ginny. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… I’m… fine,” Ginny smiled weakly. Was she okay? Well, in what way? Hurt? No, Malfoy had simply kissed her.  Actually okay? Not exactly, because now there was a funny feeling in her stomach when she thought about the kiss, but more alarmingly - when she thought about Malfoy. She broke out of her reverie to notice Harry staring at her curiously. She gulped gain.

“Okay, well, I think we should… leave this for now and perhaps move into the Common Room so Harry can tell us what exactly happened last night and this morning.” Hermione said, trying to smooth things over and curiosity overwhelming her. Ron’s own questions about what had happened to Harry seemed to overtake his dwelling on the continuing and consuming feud with Malfoy, so he nodded in agreement.

Harry looked at all their faces and smiled to himself. He was grateful for their concern and grateful that they were his friends. He would do anything for them at all including staying off his sleep to recap his disappearance for. And yet, he had a nagging feeling than beyond editing his internal monologue and a few moments during the last few hours with Malfoy, the consequences might even eventually be too much for them to grasp. Draco Malfoy was in limbo with his father and Lord Voldemort, dangling between “evil minion craving forgiveness” and “turncoat yelling ‘sod-off’ to evildoers”. Harry was still in danger from Voldemort, and now he wasn’t sure where the threat would come from next. Harry felt all this weight on his shoulders, but, the truth was that there was something much more weighty in his heart – the dawning realization that he might actually be falling for Draco Malfoy. 

***

“Just, start from the beginning,” Hermione said eagerly leaning in towards Harry. The rest of Gryffindors were at lunch so the Common Room was empty except for Harry, Ron, Hermione, Seamus and Ginny. Ginny and Hermione had bandaged the small cuts on his shoulder and were now more than curious as to how he had been injured.

“The beginning, eh?” Harry said thoughtfully. “Well, as you all know I went to meet Malfoy in the storage room to finish out potions project. I also wanted to ask him about the game, because, frankly he had played badly. While normally I would rejoice in this, the fact that he had been excelling in everything else up until that point made me suspicious. As I’m sure Ron related to you, I had a run in with Malfoy a few weeks ago and, the part I never got to was I discovered he had some charm that I just knew was tainted with dark magic.”

“So that’s what you were going to say!” Ron murmured as the rest of them nodded for Harry to continue.

“Yes, though I wasn’t sure how it was affecting him or anything.” Harry closed his eyes for a minute to recall how the meeting had begun. “I tried to broach the subject of the game immediately, but he kept ignoring me and going over the potion recipe as he put in different ingredients. Finally, I got his attention… and basically told him that he had done too good against Ravenclaw but had now sucked against us. And… that I thought it was somehow connected to the necklace. After all, he had been doing so good in all of his classes as well, so I figured it was helping him out in some way – which is why I couldn’t figure out why he had played so badly against me.”

“I knew he was cheating!” Ron interrupted.

“Shhh!” Ginny whispered next to him. Harry looked at Ron, hiding a guilty smile. Of course Ron would have easily believed Malfoy would cheat, that he would sell Harry to the highest bidder and that he was a lowly scumbag. In a way, it was sweet that Ron cared so much for defending Harry, but… Harry swallowed thickly as he imagined what Ron would have said, done or thought if he had seen Malfoy and Harry on the train…

“I told him my theory was… that this last time he had been resisting it or something. I’ve seen the toll of resisting dark magic…”

“But, but… he’s a Malfoy!” Seamus exclaimed skeptically. “Why would he fight something dark and evil that would give him power?”

Harry jumped at his words – exactly the defense Draco had thrown at him.

“Actually, he said the very same thing.” Harry looked at the floor for a minute, gathering his thoughts. “And so, I told him why he would: that he wasn’t as evil as he would like to think, that he was too proud to simply be a lapdog for Voldemort… and I pointed out the signs of resistance. He always looked like he had a headache and he had circles under his eyes from lack of sleep…” Harry trailed off, wondering if they would be curious about the fact that he seemed to have been watching Draco a lot if he noticed all of those behavioral changes.

“I see…” Hermione said thoughtfully. She was one of the few who could respect his almost clinical notations of Malfoy’s ‘symptoms’.

“And then, to my surprise, he actually confessed,” Harry said, looking back up at all of them. “He said it was the necklace, that it was a dark arts charm that was channeling spells to enhance all his skills from studying to Quidditch. And that, he had been fighting it recently because he was insulted at his father making him a pawn, and then… he clammed up and said he wouldn’t tell me anymore. He went back to making the potion.”

They were all rapt with attention now, because surely what came next was the cause of the disappearance of Hogwarts two most prominent students.

“I let him insult my potion making skills a bit and then I brought up the near collision on the pitch and well… he didn’t like that at all, and was still trying to ignore me and keep his temper as I pressed the issue. Then… I… I heard him say the potion would be done when it came to a boil and suddenly it was boiling and I had this thought to use the potion on him and – well – his reflexes are good so we both reached for the bottle at the same time and…”

“And?” Hermione squeaked in anticipation.

“And, just our cursed luck, it was a bloody Portkey!” Harry finished dramatically.

“I knew it!!” Seamus said proudly.

“Did Malfoy know about it?” Ron asked eagerly.

“No,” Harry said simply. “That bottle had been there since he brought it the week before. It had been switched after the game.” Ron seemed to frown at this, not wanting to let go of the notion that Malfoy had planned it all as a set-up from the start. And the idea of Malfoy actually confessing to Potter… all of this was not fitting his own image of what Malfoy was really like.

“Where did it take you?” Seamus prodded.

“You see, that is actually where things got really… er… interesting…” Harry began as he took another deep breath to stifle a yawn. He looked at the four pairs of eyes staring aghast at him (that disturbingly made him think about Roger’s four pairs of eyes) and shook his head slightly as he began to tell the edited version of what had taken place at the Malfoy Estate.

***

The following week was pure torture for Harry. All of his friends could barely believe the tale they had heard, let alone come to terms with the fact that Malfoy had actually released and saved Harry from his father’s triumphant grasp. Ron seemed almost insulted that Malfoy had not turned out to be as evil to the core as he had needed him to be for his hatred to make sense. Seamus had just felt a renewed sense of optimism that he might pass Divination after all. He had, in the end, predicted correctly both about the Portkey and Lucius Malfoy’s involvement.

Nevertheless, they all warned that Malfoy was not to be trusted (which Harry agreed with), that Dumbledore needed to be told (which Harry agreed with), and that he, Harry, needed to stay as far away from Malfoy as possible – something he wasn’t sure he agreed with and was having trouble complying with in practice.

Not that it was all entirely his fault, or that it was all directly related to his hormones either. On the contrary, Harry knew that, to stay sane and let his feelings for Malfoy fade back into nightmare land, he would have to ignore and avoid the sexy blond Slytherin. Keeping his distance from Malfoy had never been unappealing in the past, as it was now becoming, but Harry had been doing his best. However, the torture came in his conscience and a conflict of interest. How could he stay away from Draco and then at the same time to check up to see if Malfoy had told Dumbledore, or if he had heard from his father or… if he was still… okay? Exactly. Those things just didn’t mix with avoiding Draco.

On the other hand, Malfoy seemed to be doing a good job of ignoring Harry and his inquiring glances. The only real change Harry had been able to discern was that instead of being seen with Crabbe and Goyle most of the time, Malfoy could be seen talking to Malcolm, Blaise and occasionally Graham. Despite this change in company, (including the raised IQs), Harry seriously doubted Draco had told his fellow Slytherins anything – even if they had been curious or worried. In fact, Harry was sure he probably had told him he had been out on business for his father or some other ambiguous answer. They would never question Draco, especially if he had to do with the business of Lucius Malfoy himself. Then again, both he and Draco were sixth year prefects so maybe Draco had used that excuse.

Harry would try to get his attention in various classes, through eye contact clearly asking if he had told Dumbledore yet or if everything was all right. Draco would generally roll his eyes in return and look away. Of course, Harry was positive Draco hadn’t told the headmaster – because if he had, Harry would have been called to give his side and be questioned. Harry was beginning to feel like he should go and tell Dumbledore if Malfoy didn’t, just as he had threatened to do so, but something held him back. He didn’t know if Draco had been contacted in anyway from his father. Surely Lucius would not – could not – let such defiance slide. Would he pull Draco from school? Would he do something really horrible and unimaginable? To Harry’s vexation he seemed more worried about this than Draco. Then again, he thought, Malfoy was notoriously good at hiding his feelings with outward appearances. His veiled looks never gave anything away.

The one time he had caught Draco in the hallway and asked him point blank about his father and Dumbledore, Draco had simply hissed back, “Leave it alone, Potter” and had walked on.

Harry was positive that any minute the shit was going to hit the fan, but he didn’t know how, he didn’t know when, and he wasn’t absolutely sure it wouldn’t be at the hands of Draco himself.

***

“I think his time is over, Harry,” Hermione whispered to him across the breakfast table. “He had his chance and now… you’ll just have to go to Dumbledore yourself.”

“I agree,” Ron said in a low voice. “After all, this involves your safety and life too.”

Harry was scooting his eggs around miserably as he listened to this. He nodded slowly. He knew they were right. He had known it would come to this, which was why he had brought it up with Malfoy on the train – because Draco was even less likely to report to the teachers than Harry was. Plus, Draco seemed totally unconcerned and flippant about the situation, which irritated Harry. How could he just ignore the danger? Doesn’t he dread his father’s wrath?

There was another cause for Harry’s growing irritation at Draco, but he was trying to ignore it. Now was not the time to act bitter over Draco simply ignoring him. Not ignoring what he had to say, but him, personally. Because, hadn’t Draco kissed Harry back? Shouldn’t he be giving clandestine looks of lust in Harry’s direction? Alas, no. And yet, even as Harry tried to say this didn’t matter he also consoled himself by saying Draco did do these things and did feel this way. He was just a consummate actor and good at hiding it.

And then he kicked himself for even wasting his own brain cells on the matter.

“Okay,” Harry said in a resigned tone. “I’ll go speak to Dumbledore after Care of Magical Creatures.”

“Good,” Hermione said with finality.

“Want one of us to go with you?” Ron asked.

“No, that’s okay,” Harry said, looking up and managing a weak smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been there before…”

Ron smiled back but felt only more concern for his best friend. Why did everything fall to Harry?

***

Harry was very distracted during Hagrid’s class, and for once, it seemed Draco was noticing. He recognized the look; it was once he had seen before. Harry was sorting out his thoughts, mustering his courage… somehow Draco knew it had to do with him, and he probably wouldn’t like it.

Blast! Draco chewed on his lip in vexation, trying to hide his stares and agitation from his fellow Slytherins. He vaguely wondered if anyone was paying attention to Hagrid. If he had been back to his normal self he would have precipitated this move by Harry to go spill the beans to Dumbledore and would have headed him off with some cunning plan. But he wasn’t his normal self, and though he couldn’t admit it except deep in his subconscious he knew it was because of Harry. More so than the current state of his relationship with his father, it was Harry that was affecting him the most. He couldn’t answer Harry or tell him things to calm him down and stall his need to go informing everyone and involving everyone because, well, Draco wasn’t sure if he could trust himself around Harry.

However, as class came to an end, Draco came to a decision. He would have to go against his better judgment because foresight in the action of his father gave him a dark feeling that he would be hearing from him shortly – and the message would be better met if Dumbledore were still in the dark. Draco didn’t know what his father would say to him, he half-expected to be pulled from Hogwarts and be chained in the Malfoy dungeons for the rest of his life. But there was another feeling he had that perhaps Voldemort hadn’t given up on using him yet, that there were other plans to deal with Harry Potter. Though Draco could barely begin to figure out his own feelings in this regard he knew his only hopes of surviving any of this, and protecting Harry too, meant that no one else could know. Not even Albus Dumbledore.

***

Harry had left Ron and Hermione back by the portrait hole and now headed down the long and twisting hallway towards the office of the Headmaster. His lone footsteps clicked on the floor as he tried to figure out what he would actually tell Dumbledore. He wasn’t afraid of his headmaster’s reaction, on the contrary, Dumbledore must be used to this sort of thing but… surely Dumbledore would want to hear Draco’s side and Harry knew Draco would not want to comply.

As he was about to turn the corner he thought he felt a warm breath on his neck, but before he could turn around and look a hand grabbed him and shoved him back into the wall roughly. He sucked in a gasp of air in surprise, and opened his eyes to find piercing grey ones looking back at him.

“Malfoy! What are you – why – ” Harry stammered and drew in a breath. “I didn’t hear you,” he finished faintly.

“Yes, well, I pride myself on that stealth stalking,” Draco muttered dryly as he released his grip on Harry ever so slightly. Harry cleared his throat nervously.

“Fine. But why are you stalking me?”

“Don’t be too flattered, Potter,” Draco drawled. “I only came to stop you from making a terrible mistake.”

“And what would that be?”

“Telling Dumbledore about what happened. There’s no need right now. You must learn patience,” Draco said haughtily.

“Malfoy,” Harry said, his voice hushed, “This isn’t over. Your father will surely act swiftly, and who knows what Voldemort’s ultimate plan is-”

“Exactly,” Draco cut in. “And if you tip off Dumbledore I’ll never know.”

His last words were whispered near Harry’s ear, which made him shiver with excitement. He was trying to concentrate on what Draco was saying but it was difficult with his body pressing so near his own. Draco was still cool as ice.

“Still…” Harry protested weakly, “He should know…”

“If you still think that,” Draco said, his voice lower now, but still without heat, “Then I’m afraid I’ll have to stop you.”

Harry was about to ask him just how he was going to do that when Malfoy silenced his lips with a cool kiss. Malfoy’s lips pressed onto Harry’s with reserve but then moved traced delicately a path over his cheek, tasting Harry’s flushed skin with his tongue. Draco pushed Harry back against the wall and held him there as his lips continued to press into Harry’s skin, blowing air in his ear and moving his kisses down Harry’s neck – an action that made Harry so weak in the knees he was almost glad for Draco holding him up against the wall. He felt himself spinning and his blood was pulsing through every vein with renewed intensity.

“You will not tell Dumbledore anything,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear, pausing from his caressing. Harry was having trouble focusing on everything that was happening as Draco’s finger traced more of his chin and neck and his lips moved back to Harry’s own. Harry felt his own arms struggle against Draco’s pinned down hold – wanting only to be free to touch Draco and feel every inch of his body. It was useless to try to pretend he didn’t want it, and that he wouldn’t give in. But Draco held him firm, having only his own way with the famous Harry Potter.

The dichotomy of the whole situation was even more tantalizing for Harry. Draco was not kissing him with the desperate and unrestrained passion that he had in the train car – this was more cool and reserved, matched with words of marginal threats if Harry told Dumbledore anything. Harry knew Draco was doing this to distract him and throw him completely off guard; it was calculated and manipulative. But that didn’t make it any less and enjoyable. And despite his detached manner in which Draco teased him, Harry had a feeling that Draco was enjoying this interlude as well. 

Not that he showed it.

He was still very much in control and his expression was unreadable as his right index finger moved from Harry’s neck all the way down his side, and lifted Harry’s sweater, which he wore under the robe. The finger moved back up and traced the skin exposed just above Harry’s waistband.

Harry did not have the control Draco did and almost collapsed from pleasure as the pale finger tickled his skin and he was sure something truly embarrassing was going to happen in a moment – such as a scream of pleasure – when, abruptly, Draco’s fingers and lips pulled away and he stepped back.

Draco looked at Harry with bemused satisfaction; he had definitely accomplished what he had wished. He fought down the urge to show his emotions and grab Harry again, finishing what he had started, but his Malfoy-bred instincts held him back and, with one last clandestine smile at the pleasure-weakened Harry, he turned on his heel and walked back to his dorm.

The minute Draco turned the corner and disappeared Harry sank weakly against the wall and slid down to the floor. He was breathing heavily and was finding it difficult to stop his heaving chest. He was incredibly thankful that this hallway was always deserted. As his eyes gazed in the direction of Dumbledore’s gargoyle-guarded office, a voice in the back of his brain was crying at him to continue on and tell the headmaster, but it was soon crowded out. Harry thought maybe Draco had a point, and maybe he should trust him. Either way, the distraction and delay tactic worked. Harry was in no state to see anyone really.

Feeling for the wall with his fingers, he pulled himself up gingerly. The adrenaline was still pumping through his racing heart.

“God,” he sighed as he started down the hallway. “Now I need a cold shower.”

***

The minute Draco turned out of Harry’s view, Draco leaned one arm against the wall and tried to steady himself. He took a few quick breaths and then began to stroll on again.

He tried to scold himself for going with the more seductive tactic in keeping Harry out of Dumbledore’s office – but it didn’t really work. He had done well; he hadn’t given into his own feelings, though his lips burned with the need to embrace Harry’s with more tenderness than he had actually given. They craved the taste of Harry, the intoxicating sweetness and the erotic affect that had on all of his senses. But that was the point – this hadn’t been about seducing or flirting. It had been about teasing, controlling and… distracting.

Okay, maybe it was meant for a little bit of pleasure. Draco might have bypassed the actually step of admitting his feelings about Harry to himself, but he was now used to suppressing them and knew very well that they existed. It had been almost killing Draco to not look at Harry, to not match his stares, and to not think about him… let alone get near him. So, he had finally done that today, and could delude himself that it had been necessary, and that Harry had been more affected than he had. Outwardly, that was true. Who could guess what Harry was making of it – Harry who couldn’t hide the emotions on his open and honest face if his life depended on it.

All these thoughts were swirling about in Draco’s mind as he stepped into the Slytherin dungeons after muttering the password. He breezed past the rambunctious Common Room, barely nodded to his housemates, and descended down the stairs to his own dorm.

As he stepped into his own room a chill stopped him dead in his tracks. The heated and sensual thoughts of Harry were immediately banished as he regarded the open window and saw Midas, the Malfoy family owl, perched on his bedpost with a letter in his beak.

***

“’Lo, Harry, how did it go?” Hermione asked, but her chipper greeting stopped perplexed as she took in his damp hair. “Is it raining inside or did you take a shower?”

This caused Ron to come over from off the couch where he had idly been looking over some homework. Ginny and Seamus seemed to be elsewhere.

“Harry? Did everything go okay?” He looked at his friend with confusion and concern.

“Um… well, actually I did take a shower…” Harry mumbled, running his fingers nervously through his wet locks. He had spent so much time trying to not think about Draco and the hallway scene that he had completely forgotten to come up with a good excuse for his friends.

“Did you go to Dumbledore?” Hermione asked.

“I, er, well… I got stopped – I mean, distracted.” Harry knew it probably would better to just shut up, but his brain kept sending unfiltered words to his mouth. “Er, Dumbledore wasn’t there…” Hmm, this was no good.

“Well… which was it?” Hermione said, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Um…” Harry felt truly exposed at this moment, and nothing pained him more than lying to his friends.

“Did Malfoy stop you?” Ron exclaimed suddenly.

“Stop me?” Harry echoed. Well, actually he just started snogging me in the hallway and that sort of stopped me… hmmm, no, this wouldn’t do at all.

They took his continued silence as an admission. He suddenly wondered if there was any evidence on his neck of Draco’s teasing kisses and bites, he sincerely hoped not.

“He did, didn’t he?” Hermione looked at him sternly. “Harry! What did he say to you? Did he hurt you? I mean…” She looked him over. “He didn’t seem to hurt you. So, did you just give up and… go take a shower?” Her eyebrows were raised in disbelief over this.

Harry couldn’t bear to look at her or at Ron, but then another thought hit him. What did they know about any of this? No more than him, and actually less! Yes, they were his friends, but he didn’t need them to make him feel so stupid and useless. Especially when the more he thought about the more he was beginning to see the logic in Draco’s idea – maybe Lucius would contact him with knowledge of Voldemort’s next action.

“Look,” he said finally, his voice a little strained. “I appreciate that you guys are my friends and only trying to help me, but, frankly I don’t really feel like talking about this right now.” He brushed past Hermione and didn’t look at Ron. “It’s not the end of the world, and I think Malfoy might have a point anyway.” With that he ran up the steps to the dorm he shared and shut the door.

Hermione and Ron gaped after him and then stared at each other.

“What was that about?” Hermione wondered aloud as she heard the door slam shut.

“What does he mean Malfoy might have a point?” Ron said even more dismayed.

***

Midas hooted expectantly at Draco, who was making a deliberate circle around the owl as he headed for the window. He pulled the glass doors closed and fixed the drapes so that they were securely fastened. Then, he paced back towards Midas, who was still watching him intently. Finally, as Draco stood frozen to the floor, Midas spit the letter out and began hooting angrily.

“Fine, fine,” Draco muttered, pulling out some owl treats from one of his drawers and giving them to Midas. Once he was satisfied, Midas settled down as if to wait for a reply, though Draco had a feeling this letter wouldn’t call for one. He had a feeling Midas was meant to make sure Draco actually read the letter. 

With a feeling of immense dread Draco bent down and picked up the letter. It was addressed simply to “Draco” in his father’s familiar script, and was sealed with the Malfoy family crest imprinted in the cool silver wax. Draco broke it gently and unfolded the piece of parchment, reading:

Draco,

            I must admit that your escape was rather amusing to watch, though it is a shame you forced yourself to work with Potter. Of course, security was lax so I would have been greatly disappointed if you had been caught and had failed again. As for your killing of Roger, I was pleased; he was getting quite wild.

            Now, I am disappointed that your premature departure kept us from discussing that which I brought you there for. It is interesting that you chose to escape the dungeon instead of waiting for instructions, but I’ll put that to Malfoy indigence at being held with scum like Potter. Then again, if it was up to me you would be punished, but Our Master has other plans for you, my boy, and was rather pleased overall. He has other plans for you, as well as Potter, and these are progressing along nicely. I am told these recent events are a means to an end, one in which you will play quite a part. You shall be informed as needed, but remember your destiny and remember your loyalties.

                                                                                    Sincerely,

                                                                                    Your Father

Stunned, confused and even a bit numb, Draco re-read the letter and then watched in mute acceptance as it burst into flames. He wiped the ashes off of his hands and then sat down on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor.

Despite the tangible letter being gone, the words were burned into the back of his tired eyelids as he closed them. He couldn’t believe this.

He wasn’t going to be punished horribly? His father had known all along about the escape? And Voldemort was pleased?

But only because Voldemort had other plans. Plans involving Draco, probably worse than the order to cause Harry’s death on the Quidditch pitch.

Draco might have been pleased that he had fooled both his father and the Dark Lord that his escape from the Malfoy Mansion had not been motivated by the desire to flee from his destiny and all the evil plans. Instead, they seemed to think it was only upper class pride that had urged him to escape. And Voldemort didn’t mind that he had taken Harry back with him because… because he had different plans for Harry. What was it his father had told Lector? That he should have been pleased that Potter was there, but that he couldn’t do anything because it was not what Voldemort wanted? So, if that was true then Voldemort had not really wanted Harry’s death at the game either…

This was too much, and Draco shuddered before focusing on his room again. Feeling almost apathetic, he opened them again and he rose slowly and walked over to the window, opening it again so that Midas could fly back to Lucius Malfoy. He had guessed right, the owl did not seem interested in a reply and Draco was actually relieved. If his father had asked for one, Draco wasn’t sure what he would have said.

TO BE CONTINUED…