All's Fair

Chapter Six

"Ron, if I wanted to curse you in public with the most humiliating thing I could find, what would I do?"

A blank look. "Harry, mate, I hate to tell you this, but you've completely lost it."

"What do you mean?"

"If I told you how to humiliate me in public, you would humiliate me in public."

Harry paused. "Well I suppose I would, but up until now I hadn't actually been planning on it."

"So why the hell did you ask me how you would go about doing it?"

"I was going to humiliate someone else in public."

"You could have told me that before, you know."

"So are you going to help?"

"Maybe. Who are you planning on cursing?"

"I'm not going to tell you."

A pause. Shocked stare. "Why not?"

"Because trying to work out who it is will annoy you."

Orange eyebrows entered places on the hairline where they had never before ventured as Ron gaped at his friend in disbelief. "What is wrong with you at the moment?"

"Destructive tendencies. It will pass, especially if you tell me how to humiliate someone that is not you in public."

Ron was silent for a moment, turning the concept over in his mind.

"Is it Hermione?"

"If it was Hermione, do you seriously think that I would be asking you for help? You'd just go and tell her."

"No I wouldn't!"

Harry leant towards the redhead with a secretive smile.

"I'm planning to humiliate Hermione, Ron," he whispered.

"Hey, I'm going to tell Hermione you said that!"

Ron immediately made for the stairs that led from the Gryffindor common room where he and Harry were reclining, to the girls' dormitories.

Harry waited for the general commotion caused by the staircase subsequently turning into a slide and screeching loudly to end.

Hermione eventually made her way to the sofas where Harry was waiting and Ron was sulking, and sat down next to her boyfriend.

"So, Harry, you have decided that you're talking to us again."

"Yes."

"But he still wants to be annoying," piped up Ron, evidently hoping to embarrass someone other than himself. Harry, however, nodded and smiled, as if to say that it was really not a problem. "And he wants to put a humiliating curse on you when he works out what to do. He told me," added the redhead proudly.

"Don't worry, Hermione, I wasn't really," said Harry.

"But you said you were!" whined Ron.

"Actually, I just wanted you to fetch Hermione and make a fool of yourself, and you appear to have done both jobs rather nicely."

Ron frowned and sank back into the sofa to sulk some more. Hermione looked down at him adoringly, patted him on the head in the manner that one would a depressed puppy, then turned back to Harry.

"So, what is this whole humiliation thing?"

"Oh, I want to humiliate someone -that is not either of you- in public."

"Right. Who is it?"

"I'm not going to tell you."

Hermione sighed annoyingly.

"But how will we know what will embarrass them if you won't tell us who they are?"

Harry had not thought of that.

Well, he thought to himself, I suppose there is no harm in telling them who it is. I mean, I don't need to add that it's all really for some sort of (well, hopefully some sort of) weird sex game that I'm playing with them.

"It's Dr- Malfoy."

"And why do you want to humiliate him?"

"Hello, he's Malfoy! We don't need a reason," piped up Ron, coming out of his sulk with bright eyes at the prospect of causing his nemesis suffering.

"Is that the real reason, Harry?"

"Er, yep! I feel like taking out my anger on Malfoy, and I want you to help."

"But is that really fair?" Hermione had gotten into the whole 'being fair to people so that we can all live happily together and have pink fluffy bunnies as pets' concept, and it occasionally got in the way of life's greater joys, such as torturing others.

"Oh don't worry, it's just a game. We're both going to try and do that type of thing to each other."

"A game?"

"Yep."

"Malfoy is playing a game?"

Well it's not a game game per se...

"He is indeed. Just a nice, innocent, and not at all sex related game."

Ron choked on his own tongue.

"Please, please tell me you are not playing a sex game with Malfoy."

"I'm not playing a sex game with Malfoy," said Harry dutifully. Ron relaxed back into the sofa with a sigh of relief.

"Harry..." started Hermione warningly.

"It's fine, I was just joking. Scaring you guys is even more fun than annoying you, I think."

"Any more scaring, Harry," started Hermione, sounding very much like an enraged Molly Weasley, "and we will not be helping you!"

"Okay, okay, I'll be a good little boy. Hey, I'll even pick you some flowers... if any grow around here..."

Harry looked around the common room, did not spot any flowers, and turned back to the matter at hand.

"So, do you have any ideas as to how I can embarrass D- Malfoy?"

Hermione smiled the slow, rather evil smile of someone that has been struck by an idea that will cause great suffering to others while they themselves laugh maniacally (she occasionally forgot about the whole happiness and bunnies thing).

"I do indeed..."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall, and casually sidled down the length of the Slytherin table.

"Potter," drawled Draco after a moment, once the trio had taken their positions behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking some time out to enjoy the scenery," answered Hermione instead of the raven haired boy, who was muttering to himself.

Draco stood, hoping that his height would make him more imposing.

As it happened, his height simply allowed the hall a better view of the spectacle to come.

"What is it, Potter? Can't talk yourself? Need your cronies to do it for you? Hey, wait, your cronies are back! They've been ignoring you for the last few weeks, haven't they?"

Harry looked up at Draco, frowning. He knew that he could retaliate with insults, but he also knew that he could do something much better.

"Hey Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"Efloresco capitis!"

Draco stood for a moment, trying to work out what exactly had happened to him.

And then he felt it- something moving on the top of his head.

With a girlish shriek, he grabbed for whatever it was, and felt a truly enormous structure appearing there in place of his hair.

"What have you done to my poor, helpless hair, Potter?"

"It's a flower, Malfoy. Quite a rare one at that. Called the Amorphophallus titanium. Er, I think it's the biggest flower in the world. Well, that certainly looks about right. And it's the worst smelling. Yep, that seems right, too."

Nobody in the Great Hall could disagree.

There was no way of accurately describing the smell that was filling the hall at this point- some said rotting eggs, those that had experienced poor lavatory facilities in high temperatures swore that the plant gave off a similar smell. And so on and so forth.

"Potter, are you seriously telling me that my beautiful hair, the envy of everyone in this school, has been turned into the world's largest, smelliest flower?"

"Yep! Great, isn't it?"

"I am going to kill you! And stop sniggling at me!"

At this, Draco pulled out his wand, and pointed it at the offending boy. Harry responded by turning tail and scampering, still sniggling, out of the Great Hall.

Draco immediately attempted to follow. Taking a step forward, he faltered for a moment as the unfamiliar weight on his head nearly caused him to overbalance.

He then made for the door. Unfortunately for Draco, a quick thinking Ravenclaw that had entered into the spirit of things cast an engorgement charm on the orange bloom on the boy's head.

As a result, the irate Slytherin got stuck in the doorway, cursing and struggling madly as he tried but failed to follow the escaping Gryffindor. Nobody, not even his friends among the Slytherins, could help him. Most of the occupants in the Great Hall (including the teachers) had fallen off their chairs and onto the floor in hysterics.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry strolled up to Draco shortly after their lunch break.

"So, Draco, how's the hair?"

"I would prefer it if you didn't call me by my first name, Potter."

"Why not, Draco? You didn't have a problem with it before."

"You didn't do anything like that to my hair before. I've never been so embarrassed!"

Harry smiled, and sighed happily. Then he wrinkled his nose.

"You do know that your hair still smells, don't you?"

Draco scowled.

"I washed it four times after Pomfrey changed it back from that flower, Potter! Four! Have you any idea how expensive my shampoo is? And I won't even get started on my conditioner... I should bill you for it!"

"You could try a hair cleaning spell on it."

Draco froze. He took out his wand, pointed it his head, then muttered a quick spell. The smell vanished.

Harry smiled triumphantly, then leant closer to Draco.

"I suppose I should warn you, Draco, that you should cancel all the arrangements you had for this week," he said conversationally.

"What do you mean, Potter?" replied Draco, frowning.

"My name is Harry. You should use it. After all, you belong to me this week."

By this point, the raven haired boy was so close to Draco that he could feel his breath on his cheeks.

Draco was torn.

On one hand, he told himself, it is pretty clear that Harry has entered into... well, the correct spirit of the game. And I couldn't complain about that.

And I don't have a problem with being his slave, not really.

Well, not at all.

The problem, Draco concluded, was that no matter how pleasant the tickle of Harry's breath on his neck was, Draco was a Slytherin. And Slytherins have pride.

"I..." Draco's voice trailed off as Harry began to plant soft kisses up his neck and along his jaw. What had he been planning on saying? "Merlin, Harry."

Harry looked up from what he was doing with a wicked smile.

"Hey, why did you stop? Do it again!"

"Are you ordering me about?"

"I- yes! Please do it again, Harry!"

"When I feel like it."

"But- but-"

"Remember who is in charge here, Draco."

Ah, thought Draco. Now I remember what I was going to say.

"Who said that you could order me about, Harry?"

"Well I won the game, didn't I?"

"I never said that you had won. Not at any point."

"It certainly sounded like-"

"Not at any point!"

"Draco..."

"The game is still on! I do not concede victory!"

"So you don't want any more of this?" whispered Harry, as he lifted a hand to Draco's chest, then let it trail slowly downwards, resting a tantalisingly short distance above his navel.

"Yes! No! No!"

"You're sure?"

"Completely." No, Harry, not in the slightest.

"Right," said Harry, sounding rather put out.

"Right," echoed Draco, sounding worse.

Harry stood looking confused for a moment, then stepped back from Draco and walked quickly away, his footsteps echoing loudly in the corridor.

Draco shivered, feeling suddenly cold and empty without Harry near to him.

After a moment, he shook himself and stormed up to the Slytherin common room, stopping every so often to smack himself on the head.