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The Bizarre Incident That Must Never...	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5151 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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.

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- 1
Title: The
Bizarre Incident That Must Never Be Talked About Talked About

Disclaimer: J. K.
Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun
and not profit.

Rating: R/M.

Pairing:
Harry/Draco, with some mention of past Harry/Ginny.

Warnings: Ignores DH
entirely. Language (that would be Draco). Sex. Non-linear (it goes backwards for the first three
scenes and then returns to the present).

Summary: Everyone
has different opinions about what, exactly, happened when Harry became intimate
with Draco. If you put them all together, they might even make sense.

Author�s Notes: This
is a one-shot written for dysonrules on LJ, who
requested wallsex and hair-washing, and also gave the
prompts: green crystal, lightning, bells, and a sword. I don�t think I could
really have written a serious fic with that premise,
so here is the bizarreness that came out.

The Bizarre Incident
That Must Never Be Talked About Talked About

From Harry As I Knew
Him: The Early Life and Early Loves of the Man Who Saved the Wizarding World. By
Ginny Weasley, published by Gaping Sybil Press, May 2016.

�� It�s hard
to describe it, even now, even after all these years. I had sensed the coolness
falling between us for a long time, like snow between two blazing hearths. More
and more, he had his own life. I had mine. I had friends, of course, and now
and then I would go in for a fling with some handsome young wizard, but it wasn�t
the same.

�� And I was
convinced that Harry just didn�t know what was good for him. Oh, he�d threatened
me with a restraining order, but that was just his way of playing about, I
knew. And when he admitted to wanting to sleep with men�I thought it was silly.

�� At the time. I�ve learned better now. But he still could
have warned me. Letting the tender-hearted young witch I was in 2003 walk into
a scene like that with no warning was as good as using magic to trick a Muggle
child. She�s not going to know that it�s real,
or how to respond if she accepts that it is. And I felt the same way. The only
people I knew who slept with their own sex lived in the words of impolite novels.
Did Harry have the right to make demented fantasies come true right in front of
me? I still don�t think he did.

�� So I went
to his house one day�the house that he insisted on moving into after the last
time we broke up, even though I had told him over and over again that he was
welcome to share my flat�and knocked smartly on the door. He had a trim cottage
in Hogsmeade at the time, and, looking at it, you
just couldn�t help imagining roses
and ivy trailing around the door and children playing on the doorstep. And if
you knew who lived there, then you had to imagine that all the children were
green-eyed like their father.

�� Those were
innocent days. I can laugh, a little, at what a simple-minded fool I was. But I
still want those children with green eyes; there was a part of my heart that
not even what I saw that day could touch.

�� I knocked
again and again at the door, but no one responded. I became concerned. Harry
hadn�t been in the field for very long as an Auror, and he was partnered with
that repulsive Draco Malfoy. He could have come back from a mission still
wounded and needing care, but refusing everyone in the Ministry and St. Mungo�s
who told him to get it; such a man,
you know how they are. What if he was lying on the floor next to his kitchen
cupboards with blood spreading around the lump on his head?

�� What if he
died because I was too busy standing outside his house and pretending I didn�t
know the way around his wards? I had figured out a way around the wards as soon
as he tried to shut me out, of course. And here I was, ready to have him die just so he wouldn�t think I was
impolite or too pushy!

�� I aimed my
wand at the wards and whispered the spells that would make them relax. Because, of course, the point was not to alarm him, or wake him up,
if he was just sleeping. I wanted silent
entry to his house. It made me feel as though I was speaking to a piece of him
that understood after all, and could really give me the communion I needed; he
couldn�t object if he didn�t know he should.

�� I know how
strange that sounds now. But I don�t think anyone reading this�except one
person�has ever lived intimately with the Savior of the Wizarding World like I
have, and you don�t understand what it�s like when all his attention is fixed on
you.

�� I entered
the house, calling his name softly. He wasn�t asleep on the couch like he
sometimes was when he was too tired to get to bed, and he didn�t lie bleeding on the carpet, either. In fact, it was only after I
toured three empty rooms and listened carefully that I learned where he must
be: the loo. There was water splashing.

�� I imagined
him taking a shower and shivered.

�� But when I
came closer, I could hear voices. I admit, I got
jealous when I heard them. Harry hadn�t had a girlfriend since he broke up with
me, but we�d only broken up permanently last month. If he�d found someone that
fast whom he felt comfortable enough to bring into the shower with him, then I
was angry.

�� I didn�t
bother knocking. There would have been no point. I just wanted to break in and
embarrass him the way that he was embarrassing me at the moment, with flames
burning me from the inside.

�� I opened
the door�

�� And stopped, because while there was one person kneeling in the tub
with head bowed and another standing above him, they weren�t taking a shower
together. They were naked,
though. I reckon they couldn�t help it, since they were both surrounded by so
much water, but it still hurt.

�� And one
person was Harry, and one was Draco Malfoy.

�� Malfoy was
his partner at the time. And no more than
that, I would have sworn. After all, Harry had never talked about wanting
to date him.

�� But there
was Malfoy, with his muscles twitching uncontrollably�something had obviously
happened to him�and his arms limp at his sides, but still hissing his unpleasantries while Harry�s hands worked shampoo into his
hair.

�� I could do
this for myself, Potter. No reason
that you have to be concerned. If you had just taken me back to the Manor when
I asked��

�� Yes,�
Harry said crossly, his fingers moving with strong, regular motions that I
remembered from the days when he used to do it for me, �and you scold your house-elves so strongly that they won�t approach
you if you tell them not to, even if you need
the help. Prat.� But his voice had a terrible weight
of tenderness underneath the surface, and he pushed his fingers sideways in a
motion that made Malfoy gasp and arch his back.

�� I still
didn�t ask you, fucker,� he muttered when he recovered.

�� Ah, good,�
Harry said, and scooped up a handful of water which he promptly poured over the
top of Malfoy�s head, as if he�d done this all the time. �I hadn�t heard that one in some time. Will you call me
a sodding prat next? Or a bloody wanker who should
have been drowned at birth? I think I�m fondest of that one.�

�� Where did
you�did you learn�� Malfoy gasped again, tilting his
head back. His eyes were blank and worshipful, and it was wrong for them to look that way whilst Harry was touching him. And
then he seemed to become conscious of my presence�I reckon the colder air from
the open door was too sharp for his sensitive, pampered skin�and turned his
head to stare at me.

�� Harry
twisted around a moment later. But instead of flushing when he saw me, in
embarrassment or guilt, he just blinked. �Ginny?� he asked, as if he doubted I
were real because the sight of me was so unexpected. �What are you doing here?�

�� I shook my
head. There were no words. Maybe I should have listened to him when he said
that he wanted to sleep with men, but there had never been any signs of it�

�� Malfoy
smirked at me and managed to lift a shaky arm, curving it around the back of Harry�s
knees and tugging him nearer. Harry�s cock was just a few inches from his
mouth, and Malfoy licked his lips ostentatiously. �I think Weasley here has
some unfulfilled fantasies, Harry,� he murmured huskily. �Should we indulge
her? Since you seem to think that I can�t be left alone for a minute, and you are interested?�

�� And Harry
was hardening, now. And he couldn�t even look embarrassed about that. He looked
enchanted. �Draco��

�� He groaned the name. Does it surprise you
that I fled with tears running down my face and choking my throat?

�� That was
when I gave up all hopes of getting back together with him. And, of course,
everyone knows the results. He and that prig Malfoy are still together, and living quite happily, by all accounts, because
Harry spoils him shamelessly.

�� But maybe
it didn�t have to be that way. Maybe I could have won Harry back for all my
fellow witches if I�d just got there half-an-hour earlier on that particular
day, when he was in the mood to bathe someone.

�� I suppose
we�ll never know, now.

*

�� HARRY POTTER AND THE SECRET FETISH?

�� By: Rita
Skeeter, writing for Gossip�s Gladrag

�� And in the spirit of writing about the rich and
powerful in terms of their less admirable traits, let�s have a story about the
Savior of the Wizarding World, yes? Only this time, he�s not rescuing kittens
or making girls sigh with a display of his dazzling heroics. He was last seen,
in fact, staggering up a street in Muggle London, at two in the afternoon, with his arm around a young man in a jester costume.

�� Yes, that�s
right, Dear Readers. It seems that it might not be safe to say, �Pull the other
one, it�s got bells on,� to Harry Potter.

�� Because
said jester costume was absolutely covered
in bells, you see, and they rang with sad merriment as Mr. Potter hurried his
unfortunate date along. When this reporter attempted to stop him and ask about
a few things�including the one I�m sure we�d all like to know�Mr. Potter
attempted to explain away his conquest as his partner, Auror Draco Malfoy, who
had been struck with lightning and needed to be got to treatment and then to a
bath as soon as possible. A bath I could certainly believe, given the smell.

�� None of
that, I pointed out with extreme delicacy, explained the jester costume.

�� Mr. Potter
then tried to spin me a bizarre tale of the jester costume being the only
clothing available after Mr. Malfoy�s clothes were incinerated by the blast of
lightning. And when I asked why the jester costume was present at all, Mr.
Malfoy�if it was he, and not some other young man incredibly well made up to
answer another of Mr. Potter�s, ahem, more personal
preferences�lifted his head and said, �It�s too long a story to tell right now,
Harry, and you know that Kingsley will be unhappy if you tell it to this woman anyway.�

�� He gave me
quite the evil eye, as if he were so much more
respectable than I was that it hurt him to be in my presence.

�� So much for the young man in the jester costume. But I will
listen for forthcoming details about this fascinating story, as I am sure the
rest of you will. If we listen hard, perhaps we may even be able to hear bells
ringing forlornly in the distance�

*

�� To: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head, Auror Office

�� From: Harry Potter, Auror

�� Draco Malfoy, Auror (partner, incapacitated)

�� Subject: Formal Report on the Death of
the Kent Killer

�� Sir,

�� Auror
Malfoy and I cornered the Kent Killer on the streets of Muggle London this past
weekend. I am sure you will want an explanation as to why we were looking for
him there instead of in the backroads of Kent. I can
only say, sir, that it was an intuition, and when you have survived for as long
as I have on the results of intuition, then you learn
not to argue with what your gut tells you.

�� Auror
Malfoy and I arrived when the Killer was still gearing up for his bizarre
necromantic ritual, and had not yet killed his victim, a Muggle boy who looked
about sixteen. Auror Malfoy severed the ropes binding him with a Cutting Curse,
and the boy ran away without looking back. I am certain that, though he
reported his adventures in faithful detail, no Muggles will have believed him,
with the drugs the Killer gave him circulating in his blood. Muggles have never
yet learned that someone can be on drugs and see the truth.

�� The Killer
turned to face us, smiling. As expected, he had clad himself in a jester costume,
complete with silver and golden bells, and carried a round ball of green
crystal in his right hand. In the other was a sword. That detail had never
appeared in any of his other crimes�he must have been about to escalate his
attempts to force his deceased brother back to the living world with fresh
blood, so that he could kill him again (see
attachment, �The Kent Killer Announces His Intentions to Britain�)�and it made
me hesitate. I�m afraid that that was responsible for what happened next,
making me, in turn, ultimately responsible for my partner�s injury.

�� The Killer
aimed his sword at us. It was a sturdy blade, with the blue patterns characteristic
of folded Damascus steel, and silver inlay on the hilt. I hope this is
sufficient to identify it as a magical object, since it was unfortunately
destroyed in the ensuing confrontation.

�� Because I
was distracted, the Killer struck at my partner first. (I am sure that Auror
Malfoy will tell you all about this in his own report, when he feels well
enough to write it). The sword unleashed a bolt of lightning. I have never seen
anything like that and hope never to see it again. It knocked me off my feet
and singed my eyebrows and filled my lungs with the scent of electricity. When
I fought my way back to my feet, though, I saw it had done far worse to Auror
Malfoy. He was lying on the ground with a hole burned in his robes, twitching
spasmodically as the energy played through his body. I didn�t think he was
alive, at first.

�� The next
few minutes are something of a blur, sir. I do remember casting a spell that
melted the sword in the Killer�s hand away to less than slag, and I remember
smashing that green crystal he claimed he could use to call the dead. And then
I was fighting him close, and he was trying to get my wand away from me, and
the only thing I could think about was that I�d been careless on a watch where
partners were always supposed to protect each other and it had got my partner killed.

�� I screamed
into his face. I remember that part. I kneed him in
the groin, and that was what finally took the confidence, and the blood, away
from his face. I stepped away from him and lifted my wand.

�� From what
Auror Malfoy and I could determine when we returned to the body, I had cast a
combination of the Cutting Curse and Salazar�s Replication Jinx. There were so
many cuts in the Killer�s skin that he must have been entirely drained of blood
in two minutes. I am ready to answer questions about my heinous killing of an�at that time�unarmed suspect and accept suspension with
pay or whatever punishment you deem necessary, sir.

�� At the
time, however, I was more occupied with gathering up Auror Malfoy. As his
clothes had been incinerated in the lightning blast, I clothed him in the only
rags then available, the jester costume. I don�t remember taking it off the
Killer or cleaning it of blood. I can only assume that I must have done that.
Auror Malfoy refused my robes, he said, on the account of finding them in �very
bad [word omitted] taste.�

�� We did meet
one person before we could get into an isolated area that would allow
Apparition, with results that I�m sure you already know of, sir, if you read
any newspaper in Britain.

�� The Healers
were able to determine that Auror Malfoy had a number of superficial burns and
some minor problems with his muscles. Both were taken care of before they
offered to bathe him, but he insisted on being taken out of hospital and back
to my house, where he has recuperated before. I leave it up to his report to
give any details that he feels have been left out. I also swear that every word
in this report is true, sir, and that I am willing to testify to that truth
under Veritaserum.

*

�� I don�t
think�Kingsley believed�half of what was in�your report,� Draco gasped.

�� Doesn�t
matter if he did or not,� Harry said, and thrust a little too enthusiastically;
Draco, who had his back against the wall and his legs clasped around Harry�s
waist, lost his grip on the door behind him and started to slip. Harry hastily
adjusted his position, and Draco gave a long, low moan of satisfaction as that
resulted in some pleasurable consequence for him. Or maybe it was more of a
purr. Harry had never known people could purr and moan at the same time, but
then, he had never known that people would rather wear a sufficiently sliced
jester�s costume just barely cleansed of bloodstains than his own robes,
either.

�� You
survived,� Harry whispered, as he paused a moment to rest, which caused Draco
to open his eyes and regard him grumpily. �I survived. That�s the only thing that matters.� He pushed again, and Draco�s
eyes opened so wide that Harry had to stifle triumphant laughter.

�� And what about Weasley?� Draco asked,
when he had a moment to breathe. �Do you think you�ll still get along with her
family after this?�

�� They�ll
come�around,� Harry said.

�� Interesting choice of words.�

�� Isn�t it?�
Harry�s hand found its way around Draco�s cock just then, and Draco rolled his
head back against the wall in absolute luxury as he orgasmed,
shooting a stream of come all over Harry�s stomach. That, even more than the
clenching of his muscles, brought Harry off a moment later, trying, unsuccessfully,
to keep his groan behind his teeth.

�� In the
pause, he did sink to the floor, and let Draco lie on top of him. He expected a
sarcastic comment on his endurance, but Draco was still getting his breath
back.

�� You know,�
Draco said at last, �Skeeter was right about one thing.�

�� What�s
that?� Harry eyed the top of his head cautiously.

�� A jester�s
costume can be quite arousing, when treated in the right way.�

�� And that
was when Harry made the rule that they would not talk about the bizarre incident,
ever.

Or at least for
years.

Or at least until the next time
Draco needed a good laugh and looked at Harry with those soft
gray eyes wide and pleading the way he did.
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