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The Temporal Heart	By : KevinModay Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 2737 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Title: The Temporal Heart

Rating: R (Warning: some chapters will contain ‘hard’ R).

Author: Moday_Man

READ: Malfoy x Harry slash. No homophobians allowed here.

Summary: Lions. Serpents. An ex-team Captain. Butterbeer. Parties. Photos of a naked Harry Potter. And Malfoy in LOVE??? NO WAY! Many more oddities to baffle your mind. Just read and see if you can piece the puzzle together.

Disclaimer: Although I’m convinced that this is highly stupid and unnecessary, I will declare once more that this story is written by me with complete respect towards JK. Rowling and Warner Bros. End of discussion.

[Chapter One] Something like a Wronski Feint

The roar erupting from the loaded stands was deafening.

It was a mixture of angry hisses, horrified screams, and enthusiastic hoots.

Red, gold, green, silver. The colors flashed from every side of the field in a dizzying whirl while above all the resonance, a single voice boomed dramatically, trying to keep up with everything that was going on in the center of all the raucous.

“And Finnigan’s got the Quaffle! He passes to Creevey- who passes it back to Finnigan- he’s nearing the goal! He’s gonna attempt a shoot- OH MY BLOODY WORD-”

Noise exploded once more as a black blur whizzed past the player who was clutching the Quaffle, missing him by mere inches. The boy was thrown off course and ended up dropping the red ball in surprise.

“Foul play there from the Slytherins- leading fifty to forty! Will they continue to raise the score or will Gryffindor fight back and claim the game? Now Slytherin in possession- Nott takes the Quaffle- Weasley is close on his tail- a spectacular pass to Montague- he’s taking the chance! He’s racing down the field- COME ON GRYFFINDORS! DO SOMETHING BEFORE-”

There was a loud thwack and Montague could be heard cursing furiously as the same Bludger came pelting at him, hit by one of Gryffindor’s Beaters, Andrew Kirk.

“EXCELLENT DEFENSE BY KIRK! But Slytherin’s still in possession! Montague’s got no choice but to pass- Warrington picks it up, they’ve still got a ways to go- BUT WAIT! Here comes Gryffindor’s favorite Chaser! As tiny as a twig but incredibly fast- doesn’t look like the Slytherin Chaser has noticed him ye- UNBELIEVABLE! CREEVEY MANAGES TO STEAL THE QUAFFLE FROM UNDER WARRINGTON’S ARM!!!”

Three fourths of the spectators were jumping up and down wildly, cheering on the blur that was supposedly Dennis Creevey. He was always famous for his speedy and blink-of-an-eye robbings of the Quaffle.

“Creevey in possession! He’s faster than a hex from a wand! He’s not even bothering to pass! He’s just going to shoot- AND HE SCORES! GRYFFINDORS ARE TIED WITH THE SLYTHERINS!!! FIFTY POINTS!!!”

Dennis Creevey grinned madly before turning his broom around and flying back toward tenteenter of the field.

“The game is back in play! Slytherin in possession! Montague has the ball! This time it looks like he’s going to pass- it goes to Nott- And brilliant dodge there from a Bludger- he passes to Warrington- who passes it back to Nott! Montague’s shooting towards the goal hoops- he’s wide open for a pass! Nott attempts it- and Montague catches it effortlessly! OH NO! WHERE HAVE ALL THE GRYFFINDOR BEATERS GONE? Weasley is the only one left to defend the three goal posts! He’s looking terrified! And... DAMMIT! Slytherins score again! They’re back in the lead! Sixty to fifty!”

The smaller section of the stands that were waving green flags, were stomping their feet in excitement and furious cheering could be heard, almost drowning out the boos coming from the rest of the school. It was a sore sight to the Slytherin-loathing eye.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. The tyrant Slytherins looked as if a fire had been lit inside them and they were all smirking cruelly at their opponent players.

“Ready to lose already?” Montague, the Slytherin team captain sneered loudly as the players faced off again.

The Gryffindor team shot him angry glares; Dean tightened gripgrip on his Beater’s bat menacingly, looking as if he’d like nothing more than to ram it against Montague’s thick skull.

The shrill whistle blew again and Ginny, who was starting off with the Quaffle, shot up into the air while Dennis and Seamus split in opposite directions. It was time for their emergency tactic.

The Gryffindor Beaters were flying along side two of the Chasers. It was their job to block any Bludgers coming their way so that the Chasers could have an open shot at scoring.

Andrew, who was flying beside Ginny, gave her an encouraging smile before noticing a second too late that Goyle was on the other side of Ginny, raising his bat to strike at the Bludger before him.

“WATCH OUT!” he yelled and he dipped beneath Ginny’s broom in one swift movement to try and protect her. He managed to get in the way but instead of the Bludger hitting his own bat, it slammed into his stomach and with a gasp, he was thrown off his broom.

Ginny’s face paled and she halted in midair, her eyes widening as they followed the fast fall of Andrew’s limp body.

“ANDREW!!!” she screamed in horror.

And it was all a nightmare for the Gryffindors from there.

Ginny had dropped the Quaffle in shock, which was skillfully picked up by Warrington, who passed it to Montague, who passed it to Nott- and another goal was in favor of the Slytherins.

The score was now fifty to seventy.

“Pathetic.” a voice drawled from above the rest of the game. “Can’t even keep possession of the damn ball for twenty seconds.”

“Shut the hell up Malfoy.” Harry snarled furiously. He wasn’t in a good mood at all, and he definitely wasn’t in the mood to put up with any of the piss-head today. “Shut the hell up.”

Draco Malfoy sneered and let out a cruel laugh.

“You’re just annoyed because you know Gryffindor’s going to lose.”

“In your dreams.” Harry shot back. “You lot are just a bunch of sorry, cheating, dirt-fouled scumbags that don’t know how to play by the rules.”

“Oooh, watch your language Pothead.” Malfoy mocked, shifting his gaze back to the game. “Or I’ll just have to clean out your nasty mudblood sucking mouth.”

Harry fumed. If he wasn’t preoccupied with searching for the Golden Snitch, he would have gladly given Malfoy a bloody nose then and there. But instead, he took a long, deep breath and glanced at the large clock on the scoreboard.

Forty-five minutes had already passed since the first whistle and he knew that if he didn’t catch the Snitch sometime soon, their chances of winning would become very slim. Slytherin was already twenty points in the lead, and the longer they played, the more exhausted their team would become, and even if Harry did managed to get the Snitch before Malfoy, if their opponents scored enough goals to out-lead them by more and one hundred and fifty points...

Don’t panic. Harry told himself firmly. You’ll just have to find the Snitch before that happens. And you have plenty of time.

He needed to distract Malfoy long enough so that he could search without the bastard breathing down his neck, shadowing his every move.

What would be a good distraction? He thought desperately, trying to keep his eye on the game while watching Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. Should I try the Wronski Feint? It worked before... Well, it’s worth a try.

Fixing what he hoped was a convincing look of determination on his face, he turned his broom around and shot in the other direction.

As he expected, Malfoy came streaking after him, and Harry had to suppress a pleased grin.

But his grin faded when his hawk-like vision saw something tiny and golden fluttering idly to his right, about a hundred yards away.

If he changed course now and went after the Snitch, Malfoy might see it and get to it sooner. He was closer, if only by an inch. Yet, if he continued with his feint as if the Snitch had never caught his eye, then he might lose the chance to find it again for a while.

He could not waste his time weighing the two decisions. The choice to be made was an obvious one.

He jerked his broom handle violently and nearly collided with a surprised Malfoy before both whirled around in the direction of the gold blur crisscrossing through the air like a wrathful bee.

“You fucking asshole!” Malfoy shouted, realizing that he’d just been feinted on for the second time in his life. He tried to kick Harry but missed and a look of utter horror washed over his pale face as Harry shot out towards the Snitch, this time for real.

Harry’s ears were ringing with excitement. He knew that he was going to get to the golden ball before Malfoy. They were going to win.

In less then two seconds, he’d closed the distance between him and the ch bch by more than half. He extended his arm out, fingers tingling madly.

And then it was over. The struggling ball of wings was clamped tightly within his fist, and the stands detonated with an earsplitting sensation of color and noise. He soared through the air, circling the whole perimeter of the stadium and pumping his fist over his head, before flying back down to the grass field below him. The second his feet touched the ground, his teammates all jumped on him, crying out in joy and suffocating him with hugs and enthusiastic thumps on the back. He could feel numerous hands ruffling his already messy hair and laughed as Ginny smothered his cheek with happy kisses.

“GRYFFINDORS! GRYFFINDORS! GRYFFINDORS!” the spectators were chan end endlessly from all around and lion-shaped confetti began raining down on them.

A blinding flash went off and Harry turned his head to see Colin Creevey holding up his black camera, hopping around to get different angles of Harry’s ecstatic and flushed face.

“Harry! Harry! Look this way! Harry!” he squealed. “Harry!”

Harry shot him a winning smile and then went back to returning hugs to his teammates.

“RON! HARRY!” a different voice was screaming his name from a distance. Harry recognized it immediately and pulled himself out of the heap of sweaty Gryffindor bodies and found one of his best friends, Hermione sprinting down the sidelines, waving her arms like an insane maniac wher her voluminous hair flying out behind her and tears streaming down her cheeks like waterfalls.

“Oh my god Harry!” wailed Hermione, throwing her arms around his neck. “That was the most amazing catch I’ve ever seen you do!”

“That was seriously bloody brilliant mate!” whooped Ron, coming over and throwing his arms around Harry too. Harry blushed and hugged his friends back.

“It was nothing-” he said, feeling the absolute happiest he’d ever felt in his life.

“Of course it was something!” Hermione screeched incredulously. “That catch will be remembered throughout the history of Quidditch here at Hogwarts!”

“At first, I thought you were gonna do the Wronski Feint- but then when you changed direction and went after the Snitch, you really shocked us!” Ron beamed, untangling himself from Harry. “You never did that at practice!”

Harry smiled sheepishly. Of course he’d never done it at practices, since it hadn’t been intentional. But he decided he didn’t want to bother telling his friends that.

“Yeah, well...” he shrugged. “It was nothing, honestly.”

“Did you see the look on Malfoy’s face?” Ron said gleefully. “He looked like a bloody constipated Banshee!”

The whole Gryffindor team burst out laughing.

“You care to say that to my face, you fucking Weasel?”

Ron’s face paled and whirled around.

Malfoy was storming over to where they stood, his whole team strutting behind him like vicious bodyguards. They all had identical looks of rage on their faces, as if their intention was to kill.

“Sure Malfoy!” Ron replied indignantly, trying to hide his slight feeling of fear. “We were just saying that you looked like a constipated Banshee when Harry caught the Snitch! Should’ve seen your own face-”

But he never got to finish that sentence because he was knocked to the ground by a hissing Malfoy who continued to pound his fist into Ron’s stomach.

“You gormless slag!” Malfoy screamed. “You know fucking well that Potter cheated! That was no catch! He fucking cheated!”

“I did not cheat!” Harry bellowed throwing himself toward Malfoy before he murdered his best friend. “Gryffindors don’t cheat, unlike you Slytherins!”

“Damn right we don’t!” Seamus’ voice came from behind them. “That was won fair and square! Even ask Hooch!”

Harry managed to kick Malfoy off of Ron and Ron, who was now sporting a bleeding nose and black eye, scrambled to his feet hastily before Malfoy could attack him again.

“Get your fucking hands off of me Potter!” Malfoy screamed, throwing a fresh punch at Harry this time. Harry ducked it instinctively and rammed his own fist into Malfoy’s side.

“No Harry!” Hermione shrilled loudly. “You’ll get detention-”

But it was in vain.

Both Harry and Malfoy were rolling around on the damp grass, attempting to dash the living daylights out of each other.

“You fucking goody-two-shoes!” Harry doubled over as Malfoy kneed him with incredible force.

Harry elbowed Malfoy in the face in return. “You’re just a sore looser!”

There were now steeled cheers erupting from the quickly multiplying crowd encircling them.

“You get ‘em Harry!”

“Show him who’s the winner!”

Malfoy grunted in pain as Harry managed to sit with a thump on Malfoy’s stomach and proceeded to pound his face into the soil.

“Draco!” cried out Pansy. “Somebody get Potter of of him!”
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The Temporal Heart