Taught to Wed

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Taught to Wed

Chapter 8 - Diaries and Desires

Or

Mmmm, Harry

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Severus smiled as he leaned into the kiss, How long before he breaks? he wondered to himself. That the person opposite him was attempting to imitate Hermione Granger bought a flurry of conflicting emotions to the fore. Watching Draco, for who else could it be, topple gracelessly backwards from the chair and running like Sirius about to be presented with a Dementor's kiss was just compensation.

Severus had realized it was Polyjuice the moment he'd seen *Hermione* walk towards him; Draco apparently hadn't yet gotten used to the different center of gravity, thus the walk was entirely wrong. His conclusion was further confirmed from the slight lingering taste of Polyjuice on the boy's lips.

Altogether, not an experience he'd like to revisit, Severus still felt good about it. He knew that Draco would have learned a lesson and would not likely repeat the experience. It was just like Lucius to send the boy on a mission without giving the full details. And it appeared that not only had Lucius left out vital details, such as what the mission was, but had also failed to inform the boy of who he was to impersonate.

There's a reason Polyjuice is not used for cross gender situations, thought Severus, and it's not just due to anatomical discrepancies. As it was using Polyjuice confused the body when used to change into someone of your own sex. However, using Polyjuice to change to a member of the opposite sex was much worse, and thus the side effects from frequent use, even over a short period of time could be quite damaging to the user.

Severus only hoped that Draco's foray into transgender Polyjuice use was bad enough to turn him away from repeating the experience. If not, he was quite worried for the boy.

*****

6 September 1997

Will have to demand copious amounts of compensation from Father when I actually complete my mission. Will also have to determine why I got Granger hair and not Weasel hair. Cannot fathom idea that father would do this on purpose. He cannot be that sadistic of a bastard. Well, maybe he can.

Have just spent the better part of an hour scrubbing Snape off my lips. I don't care that he kissed me for all of five seconds. It was still disgusting. However confirms that I am on the right path with the Granger/Snape conundrum. Sick bastard.

Am glad to be out of Weasel's clothing and Granger's body. However will have to repeat latter part tomorrow and actually complete the mission. Fortunately works to my advantage. Won't have to try and sound dumb like the Weasel. Also it seems that Potter would divulge more to Granger as far as dealings with the Dark Lord goes. Weasel doesn't seem competent enough to discuss anything of importance.

Sent the Weasel's clothes back with a house elf. Also managed to obtain a pair of Granger's trousers and one of her jumpers. It's bad enough that I have to be a female, do not need to further humiliation by wearing a skirt. Took half of remaining potion and practiced walking for an hour. Do not comprehend how girls are able to walk, but now can walk reasonably similar to girl. Hope it does not translate into everyday walk. Do not want to look like ponce by prancing around like Granger.

Speaking of looking like a ponce, Potter continued staring throughout the week. Will have to get to bottom of that tomorrow. Quite sure he will tell Granger whom he likes. Not that I care.

*****

"Ugh, Ron, that's disgusting," Harry said, quickly diverting his eyes from the scene before him.

"Sorry," Ron said, blushing. "Wasn't expecting anyone to come barging in here."

"It's a bloody dormitory, Ron. Of course someone is going to walk in. You could have at least put up some wards or closed the drapes round your bed. Ugh!" Harry grimaced, now looking at the wall opposite Ron. "Well, don't just sit there. Get dressed."

Ron obliged and dressed in record speed before gingerly sitting back down on his bed. "Sorry," he said again.

"It's ok, Ron. Just don't let there be a next time," Harry said flopping down on his own bed. "How was the walk with Cho?" Remembering the scene he just witnessed, "On second thought, don't tell me. I can bloody well see that it went well."

Ron smiled weakly, "It was bloody brilliant. I was able to talk about Quidditch with her. And did you know she wants to be an Auror, too? We walked around the lake and she held my hand, Harry."

"Don't tell me it was that one," Harry said pointing to Ron's left hand, the same one that had been - Harry couldn't even think about what it had been doing. Ron blushed. "Ugh, Ron. You're really sick, you know that?"

"Am not," Ron said indignantly. "You can't tell me you've never-"

"I have, but not here where anyone can just walk in," Harry interrupted. "Well is that all? Or did anything else of value happen with Cho that you care to tell me about?"

"She kissed me," Ron said before enquiring, "what's with the mood, Harry? Did some fanged creature decide to make your arse its home?"

"No, just trying to wipe the images of you in the throes of self-pleasure. Trust me, those were facial expressions I never ever wanted to see you make."

Ron chuckled, "Sorry, Harry. Can we just forget about that? How'd things go with Bill?"

"Eh, they went well. He answered a few questions. He says I should kiss Mal-, that I should kiss a male." Harry said, quickly covering up the divulgence he had almost made.

"Oh?" Ron asked.

"Yeah says that it will help me sort things out."

"Any male?"

"No. Ew, you're not offering are you?" Harry asked sounding scandalized.

"No. Much as I like you Harry, I don't want to kiss you," Ron said chuckling.

"Oh. He says I should kiss someone I am attracted to."

"So what are you going to do about that?" Ron asked intently. Are you going to kiss Malfoy? I know you want him.

"I don't know. Can we talk about this some other time? I'd rather like to take a nap," Harry laid back, resting his head on his pillow, his eyes closing, not even waiting for Ron's response.

"Yeah, whatever," Ron said glumly, before leaving the room.

*****

Draco eyed off Granger's trousers with distaste, how in Merlin's name does she fit into those? he wondered, anything to put off taking the potion again, praying that the saying 'third times the charm' would have no relevance in the present situation. Studying the trousers he realized that they were a little small for him in his normal form, in point of fact he was certain they were too small for Granger as well; tight fitting best described them. He'd have to 'change' first, and he didn't like the idea that they added an additional risk to the whole masquerade process, if the Polyjuice wore off before he had a chance to change out of them, he'd most likely end up splinched in half and unable to father children. Father has no idea of the risks I have to take, he groused to himself as he finally downed the potion.

The rippling of his body was no less painful than it had been the previous times and that put him into a fine mood, further aggravated by the hobbling and shuffling around the room like a bloody lunatic to get the trousers on. Thank Merlin, he thought as he finally got the trousers up over his hips, until he realized he still had the buttons to do up. Potter's trousers have to be easier to get into than these, he thought despite the fact that Polyjuicing himself as Potter was just not an option, especially considering he was out of Polyjuice potion.

Humph, these aren't half bad, thought Draco, making his way up to Gryffindor Tower. It's almost as if they were designed to make me walk this way. I could almost get used to this. I wonder if I can sit in these, he wondered, upon spotting a bench. He was almost seated when the most painful, mind-numbing sensation ripped through his groin. Nope, cannot sit down. He slowly stood back up and continued his mission.

Spotting Granger and Weasley leaving the Tower, he ducked into a dark entranceway and waited for them to pass. When the coast was clear, Draco started once more to the Gryffindor Tower entrance. Just as he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, it swung open hitting him square in the nose. "Ow!" he screamed out. "Watch where you're bloody going."

"Hermione?" Harry asked as the portrait swung shut behind him. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, Po- Harry, I'm fine. Just watch it next time, ok?" Draco said, giving his best Hermione grin.

"Where'd Ron go off too? Didn't you just leave with him?" Harry questioned.

"He ran into Cho, wanted to spend 'alone time' with her," Draco said chuckling. This is too easy.

"Oh. Figures. As long as I don't catch him- Oh sorry, you probably don't want to know about that," Harry said blushing.

"Thanks P- Harry. That's just something I'd rather not think about, ever," said Draco, thoroughly disgusted about what Potter almost said.

"So, umm... sorry for being such a prat. I really shouldn't have mentioned it," Harry said, gently grasping Hermione's wrist in what he believed to be a soothing manner.

Draco nearly pulled away shocked at the innocent touch that was sending the most peculiar feeling through him. Isn't potter gay? Then why is he flirting with me? Did I change back... no am still in one piece.

Harry looked at Hermione, wondering why she was shivering, and he asked, "Are you OK, Hermione?" Draco, for his part, swallowed and could not respond, just looked a little wild-eyed at Harry. Draco gave a slight nod, not really confirming whether or not he was truly ok. Harry's thumb brushed across the back of Draco's hand.

Oh shit, Draco thought as he slid back against the wall, visibly panting. He spied Granger and Weasley headed their way. Panicking he roughly pulled Harry by his shirt into a slight alcove, concealing them from prying eyes. Harry landed in his arms, lips gently brushing each other. What started as a kiss to hide his identity turned into one of the best kisses he'd ever had. Draco's mouth eagerly explored Harry's, finding the soft spots that caused the other boy to moan. Draco was so caught up on the sensations of Harry's tongue stroking his own that he failed to realize that Granger and the Weasel had entered the Gryffindor common room; that and the fact that he, Draco Malfoy, was kissing Harry Potter, and enjoying it immensely.

Draco snaked his arm around Harry's back, entangling his fingers in Harry's permanently disheveled hair, holding them in the moment, holding them to each other's mouths. It wasn't until Harry's hips tried to meet his that Draco and Harry pulled away from each other, nearly gasping for air. Both were thinking strangely similar thoughts at that moment; surely there was something wrong with him, not enough oxygen to the brain; there was not any other explanation for why they were enjoying this.

As abruptly as they'd broken the kiss, Draco pushed past Harry and took off running. Harry meanwhile stood motionless, trying to process what had just happened. After a brief moment of pondering Hermione's actions, and his own reactions, he turned in the other direction and walked into Gryffindor Tower, only to come face to face with Hermione, wearing an entirely different outfit than she had on just moments before. "Hermione?" his voice broke on the question before he turned with Quidditch reflexes to look back the way he'd come.

*****

Draco slammed his door shut, leaning against the closed door; he slumped down to the floor. Resting his elbows on his knees, he placed his head in his hands. A thousand thoughts were running through his mind. He could make sense of none of them. He kissed Harry Potter. He wanted to kiss him again. And oh- what was that?

Draco felt his erection straining against his trousers. Except they weren't his trousers, they were Granger's and they still fit. Bloody hell! He should have known. He knew something had felt familiar the entire time. But whose sick idea was it to brew a potion to change your form to another human and not change all of you?

Draco was completely mortified. Surely Harry had noticed his arousal. No wonder he had broken the kiss. Wait, why did he care? He didn't like Ha- Potter. Potter. Remember Potter, not Harry. Tears of confusion began streaming down the blonde's cheeks. Wiping them away, Draco got up and grabbed the silver hand mirror his father had given him first year.

"Father," he said, pushing down his emotions and putting forth an air of cold indifference. Lucius Malfoy's visage appeared in the mirror.

"Yes, Draco?" his father asked.

"I've completed the mission to the fullest degree I am willing. I will not, under any circumstances use the Polyjuice to spy on Potter and his friends," Draco said, a sneer warping his face.

"What did you learn? And then we shall see if you will be allowed to drop this charade," Lucius said as coldly as his son had spoken to him.

"First off, I learned that Professor Snape and the Mudblood have some illicit affair going on. Secondly, I learned that talking to Potter is pointless as he says nothing of any value."

"Very well, Draco. I will report your findings to Voldemort."

"Are you not even going to ask me how I know about the Mudblood? Are you not at all interested in how utterly messed up and sadistic you are to do this to me? Are you -"

"Enough, Draco," Lucius interrupted, watching Granger's face express the emotions that his son was feeling. Blaming the tears that were welling up in the corner of Draco's eyes on the female hormones coursing through his son's body. "I am not concerned about this at the moment. We can discuss this issue at another time. One when your emotions are not influenced by the side effects of this potion."

"Why did you give me, Granger's hair?" Draco asked nearly sobbing. "Of all the sadistic things to do to your own child. You make me prance about as the Mudblood. You're disgusting, Father." With that last sentiment Draco threw the mirror across the room, causing it to shatter.

*****

6 September 1997

Am so bloody peeved at Father. How could he do this to me? His own son? I hate him. I absolutely hate him. I never want to talk to him again. There is nothing he can do to make this up to me, and I will not give him the chance to try.

I don't understand it one bit. I kissed Harry Potter today. I don't even know what to call him anymore. I was just trying to prevent Granger and Ron from seeing me. They would have kept me there until I changed back. Thus causing me to be cut in half by those bloody trousers. Why I had to kiss him, I don't know. I could have just pulled him into the alcove. But then he would have been curious as to why. Our cover, my cover would have been blown.

He had my wrist in his hand and it felt so nice. I was feeling all these things I've never felt before. Must have been girly thoughts. And I am not a bloody girl. Bloody Father. I want to kiss him again. I want to - bloody hell, I'm still hard. And oh god must get these trousers off now. I can -

*****

Draco jumped off the bed, tearing off the trousers as quickly as humanly possible. He could feel them constricting against his waist. He let out a deep sigh when the trousers had found themselves on the floor. Falling over, Draco landed softly on his bed. His breathing was ragged. And he was as confused as ever.

His erection was not going away and he could not think of anything but Potter. About how Potter's mouth felt against his. How he wanted to kiss him again. Before he knew it his hand was grasping his cock. He let out a soft moan as he began slowly moving his hand up and down his erection. He slowly brushed his forefinger across the head of his penis and let out a hiss. Dear Merlin, this feels great. His hand began moving faster. He started thrusting into his hand, his hips rising off the bed to meet his hand.

Using his other hand Draco started playing with his testicles. Rolling them between his fingers. The sensations so great, he could almost imagine Potter there with him. A few more rapid strokes and he could feel his testicles rise up, could feel his orgasm beginning to take over his writhing form. "Mmmm, Harry," he moaned loudly as he came, his semen spilling over his still moving hand. Being rubbed into his own skin. Draco let out a deep breath as his movements stilled. He stared up at the ceiling, completely flummoxed.

*****

Harry paced in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. "I just don't understand. Who? Why?"

"Harry, we'll figure it out soon enough. How about you go relax. We can come back to this later. You look like you're about to blow a gasket. And honestly I don't want to be around you when you do," Hermione said, trying to keep calm.

"You don't understand, Hermione. Whoever it was kissed me. And it was great. I've never felt so good after a kiss in my life. Ever. And now I have no bloody clue who it was. I have no clue if it was someone embarrassed about liking me, or someone out there just trying to yank my leg. Pull me for a loop. Why me? Ron? Hermione? Why me? Why does my life have to be like this?" Harry was fuming. He was confused and he just wanted it to all make sense.

"Harry," Ron said, "just go upstairs and lay down for a bit. There's no use yelling at us about this. It's not as though the more frustrated you are about it the easier it will be to figure it out."

Harry visibly relaxed, "You're right. I'm just tense and upset and confused. I'll be upstairs reflecting if you need me."

As Harry walked away, Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried glance.

*****

Harry plopped down on his bed, closing the drapes around him to block out the afternoon sun and rested his head in his hands and looked up at the drapes that crossed the top of his bed. His gaze focused on the red fabric while his mind wandered back to the hallway. He focused on the mannerisms of the Hermione he kissed. They definitely did not match up with his best friend's. He wondered who it could be. He really didn't care so much as to whom it could be so much as whom he wanted it to be. He wanted it to be Malfoy. But he knew that was as bloody likely as Hufflepuff winning the Quidditch cup.

Soon Harry was replaying the kiss over and over again in his mind. Replacing the fake Hermione with Malfoy. Imagining Malfoy's thin but perfect lips pressed against his. Malfoy's callused hand playing with his hair. Malfoys perfect blonde hair brushing against his forehead. Malfoy's steel blue eyes boring into his own emerald eyes.

Harry's hand moved out from underneath his head and unfastened his trousers. He pulled out his now throbbing erection and began stroking himself. Imagining that it was Malfoy stroking him. His strokes became faster as his desire built up. Merlin, how he wanted Malfoy!

Harry's fingers grazed languidly across the head of his penis. He could feel his testicles begin to draw back. He could feel his orgasm coursing through his body. One of his fingers lightly brushed against his arsehole, "Mmmm, Malfoy," Harry moaned as he came into his hand.

"And you're the one calling me sick," Ron said, having just entered the room in time to hear Harry's proclamation.

Harry poked his head out between the opening in his drapes, "What are you going on about, Ron?"

"Well you could have at least used a bloody silencing charm. Saved my ears from your fantasies about Malfoy," Ron said, smirking, leaning against his own bed.

"Oh, sorry, Ron," Harry said blushing.