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The Wand Game	By : ReverieWilde Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21854 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters in it. I make no money on the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
〪o 〫O〬 o〭

October 31 1998 the wee hours of the morning (post date)

“Hermione? What are you doing up?” Harry questioned his best friend suspiciously.

“You didn’t really think I could go to bed without finding out what happened, did you?” she smirked, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half-one or so. Maybe later.”

“How did it go?” Hermione questioned.

Biting his lip, Harry attempted to suppress his grin. “It went . . . very well.”

Hermione eyed him up and down. “Disheveled hair, swollen lips, flushed skin? My God, Harry, did, did, did you and --”

“No, no,” he shook his head emphatically. “We did snog a bit, though.” He sat down on the other end of the sofa, still grinning.

Although she was trying to be supportive, Hermione wasn’t sure how she felt about the image that just popped into her mind. Logically, she realized that if they liked each other, they would kiss. And if it turned to more, they would---

“Mione?” Harry’s voice pulled Hermione out of her woolgathering. “Are you sure you’re all right with this?”

“It’s not my place, Harry. But yes. It’s a bit . . . disconcerting is all.”

“I know. It must be strange for you. Me wanting to be with someone you hate.”

“I don’t hate him,” Hermione said. “Not anymore. I don’t think I have for a while now.”

“Really?”

“He hasn’t called me mudblood in years. And, truthfully, I felt sort of sorry for him sixth year. He was always brooding and miserable looking. And then of course, he helped you in his family’s manor. It seems as though he was never much of a willing participant in all the Dark Lord’s plans.”

“Still,” Harry said.

“Harry, have you really thought of the ramifications of having a relationship with Malfoy?”

“Such as?”

“The savior of the wizarding world coming out is bound to be news. The Prophet will be all over it. Not everyone will be supportive.”

“I never said I was coming out.”

“Do you really think you can keep dating Draco a secret? People still follow what both of you do. He’s a Death Eater. I’m sure the Ministry is keeping an eye on him.”

Placing his hands on his hips, Harry sighed heavily. “He’s not a Death Eater. He was cleared.”

“I know that, Harry. But people hold grudges. I’ve heard a rumor that Malfoy still gets hate mail.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this?”

“No, I’m just trying to be realistic.” Hermione could tell he was becoming disheartened by the conversation.

“I’d rather you were supportive. A good start would be to call him Draco instead of Malfoy,” Harry whinged.

Yawning, Hermione covered her mouth. “It’s late. We should go to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

She leaned over to hug her friend. He half heartedly returned it, still a tiny bit annoyed at her playing of devil’s advocate.

“Yeah, all right. See you in the morning.”

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

October 31 1998

Around eight o’clock, Ron, Harry and Hermione met up in the common room to walk to breakfast together.

“What time did you get in last night Harry?” Ron nudged him in the side. “Hot date?”

“Uh,” Harry stood uncomfortably. “You could say that.” He shot Hermione a look.

“Shall we?” Hermione said, hoping to change the subject. “I’m starved.”

“I hope there’s bacon this morning,” Harry continued the conversation.

“Did you know?” Ron questioned Hermione, giving her a small frown. He witnessed the look exchanged between her and Harry. “You told her, and not me?”

“Ron, it’s not like that. I wasn’t planning to tell her. You know Hermione, she just figured it out,” Harry explained.

“Still,” Ron sulked. “You could have told me.”

“I didn’t want you to make a big deal about it. It was very casual,” Harry told him, which was true.

“Who was she?” Ron asked. “Will you at least tell me that?”

“It’s the same person I’ve been talking about for the last week,” Harry offered. “But I’m not saying who it is yet.”

“Why not?” Ron grumbled. “You told me about Daphne, and Pansy.”

“I wasn’t really interested in them. I only asked Daphne out because you said I should.”

“What?” Hermione asked. “Is that true?” She raised her eyebrows at Harry. “You didn’t even like her?”

“Look, can we just drop it for now?” Harry pleaded. “I promise Ron, I’ll tell you all about it after I sort it out for myself.”

“She must be a real minger if you won’t tell me who it is. Are you embarrassed?” Ron laughed and nudged Harry’s side.

“No, in fact just the opposite,” Harry fumed.

“Just playin’, mate. No need to get your knickers in a bunch.”

Ron was reluctant to let it go, but as soon as they opened the door to the Great Hall, the smell of food made him forget about Harry’s date.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

“Mione?” Harry cautiously entered the area of the library in which Hermione was studying. She glanced up at him.

“Um, I’m sorry about the way I talked to you last night. I was tired. I know you were only trying to help.”

“It’s all right, Harry. Have you spoken to Ron yet?”

“Not yet. I will, though,” he assured her. “I came to ask you for help.”

With that, Hermione perked up. “What do you need?”

“Well, I need help with my outfit for tonight.”

“You’re going?” she questioned.

“Yes. Although, I need to disguise myself completely. I’m going to change my hair and wear shoes that make me taller. But I won’t be able to see without my glasses. Any ideas?”

“Your mask won’t cover them?”

“I don’t have a mask yet. I was hoping you could help me with that as well,” he answered sheepishly.

Hermione thought a moment. “Perhaps we could transfigure your glasses into a mask. Are you wearing dress robes or a costume?”

“I was thinking maybe a pirate or maybe a cowboy. Or, I could be some sort of animal.”

“Oh, muggle costumes.”

“Why, what are you and Ron wearing?” Harry asked.

“We’re dressing up in Renaissance clothing. Very traditional, but Ron doesn’t want to wear anything outlandish,” she laughed. “Instead of his dress robes, he’ll wear a muggle-type suit.”

“What is Mal--Draco wearing? Do you want to match?”

Harry smirked at Hermione’s recovery. “No. The whole point is for no one to know it’s us. Actually, the only thing I know is that his hair will be blue.”

Thoughtfully rubbing her chin, Hermione took out a piece of parchment and a quill. She began to sketch a few designs. Harry watched and made small suggestions, until they came up with a good idea of how Harry’s outfit would look.

“Is it too cliche?” Harry queried as he looked over the crude drawing Hermione made.

“Considering many of the students here never went trick-or-treating with muggles, and it’s very American, I think it will be original enough.”

They both studied the sketch--a typical American western outlaw outfit, complete with a bandana covering the lower face and hat to help conceal the hair. Harry decided he would still make his hair blond in case he took his hat off. It wasn’t entirely accurate as neither he nor Hermione were very familiar with the theme, other than old films. But Hermione figured, not many of the other students would be any more educated on the subject. He liked the idea of being comfortable in jeans and loose shirt most of all. A simple black mask transfigured from his glasses would complete the ensemble.

“Ron has a long jacket you could wear.”

“What about a gun? An outlaw has to have a gun,” Harry grinned.

“We’ll simply conjure one up, along with a hat and bandana. Just remember that they won’t last. Anything else?” Hermione wanted to know.

Blushing just a bit, Harry admitted, “I need a blue rose as well.”

Hermione simply raised an eyebrow.

“So he’ll recognize me.” He rolled his eyes.

Smiling, Hermione remarked, “It’s sweet. I don’t recall ever seeing you quite so . . . besotted.”

“Besotted?” Harry was indignant. “I’m hardly acting besotted. Perhaps a bit cautiously optimistic.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Harry. I was being sincere. I enjoy seeing you happy. Even if the object of your affections is M-Draco. Just please tell Ron soon. I don’t like keeping things from him. Especially now that we’re becoming closer than ever.”

“I will,” Harry promised. “Tomorrow, we’re going to Diagon Alley together. I’ll tell him everything then. Regardless of what happens tonight.”

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Harry waited for most of his House to leave before he began to get ready for the Halloween dance. Earlier in the evening, Hermione helped him with his clothing and glasses. It had been difficult for him to spend the past hour without them, but he didn’t want to wear his mask in front of anyone.

By nine o’clock, the party had begun and almost everyone in the school was in the Great Hall. Harry swiftly put on his costume, along with the boots he altered to make him taller. He placed the mask over his eyes and pulled the red bandana up over his nose. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Harry could barely see any of his face. Perfect. He waved his wand and whispered the incantation to change his hair. He watched it slowly morph into a light strawberry blond color, which he attempted to comb down.

Satisfied that he was truly unrecognizable, Harry walked out of Gryffindor and made his way to the Great Hall.

When Harry arrived, twenty minutes later, the party was in full swing. Students were decked out in seemingly every possible sort of costume. Some, like Ron and Hermione, wore classical period clothing. Some were dressed in typical Halloween characters, such as ghosts and movie monsters. Others, like Harry sported muggle costumes. And then there were some that Harry couldn’t figure out what the hell they were supposed to be. It looked like they simply threw on whatever they happened to have lying around. It was all in good fun, though, and Harry’s mood was high. He searched the crowd for a head of blue hair, but found none on his first pass around the room. He stopped to get a cup of pumpkin punch, then strolled around once more. He noticed that he could see over many more students’ heads than usual. The high heeled boots he wore made his footing a bit wobbly, but it was well worth the extra height. Harry secretly wished her were taller, like many of the other boys.

Hermione casually wandered to his side as he nibbled on crisps by the buffet. She addressed him without looking at him, so they wouldn’t appear to know one another. She was dressed in a beautiful pale blue ball gown with a rather low neck and bodice that pushed her breasts up high, causing them to just about spill over the top. Even Harry couldn’t help notice. Her cleavage rivaled Pansy’s.

“You look . . . positively ravishing,” Harry grinned beneath his bandana, but of course, Hermione couldn’t see. “I’m surprised Ron let you out looking like that?”

“Why, because you think other boys are leering at me?” She smirked.

“That, or he just wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you,” Harry chuckled.

“No sign of Draco yet?” Hermione lowered her voice.

Harry sighed. “No. And it’s coming up on ten o’clock. Maybe he decided not to come.”

“Maybe he’s aiming for fashionably late. He is a Malfoy, after all.”

“An hour is just plain late, not fashionable. More likely, he’s not going to show up. I’m gonna go.”

“Give him a few more minutes,” Hermione urged.

“I’ll give it ten more minutes, then I’ll call it a night. You two have fun.” Harry walked about the Hall once more, in case he simply missed Draco. Several students beckoned him to join them, as they had been doing all evening, but he waved them off.

Feeling a bit dejected, Harry made his way to the entrance. He reached for the doorknob, but caught air and was suddenly knocked down by the opening door. Sprawled out on his back, Harry looked up to see a figure dressed from head to toe in enticingly tight white leather. And blue hair. A fabulously ornate white feather mask covered the wearer’s eyes and nose.

“Shit,” Draco cursed under his breath. “Are you okay?” It was then he noticed the long stemmed blue rose clutched in the western bandit’s hand. Draco held out his hand to help Harry up.

Harry took the offered hand and stood. When Harry tried to free his hand, Draco held tight.

“I’m sorry I’m so late. I had trouble with the hair color. It kept coming out too purple.”

Harry smiled, then realized that Draco wouldn’t be able to see it. He offered him the rose instead.

Draco accepted it, snapped the stem off and placed it in the lapel of his white leather jacket. He tossed the stem over his shoulder. “May I have this dance?” he leered.

Harry nodded and followed Draco to the dance floor. He didn’t have much choice as Draco was still grasping his hand firmly.

The crowd was jumping and writhing to the quick beat of the Weird Sisters, minus Gideon Crumb and Merton Graves. Harry didn’t mind, he never cared much for bagpipes anyway. A girl with an outfit leaving very little to the imagination, sidled up to Draco tempting him to dance. Draco put an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He said something in her ear that Harry couldn’t hear. By the depth of her cleavage, Harry assumed the girl was Pansy.

The girl then beamed at Harry and slapped his bum before turning to dance with the nearest masculine appearing party-goer. Still holding Harry’s right hand, Draco began to bounce up and down along with the rest of the horde.

He leaned close to Harry. “Aren’t you going to dance?”

“I don’t really dance,” Harry shouted back. Even so, it was difficult to hear one another.

“Come on. You have to dance. That’s the whole point.” Draco continued to cavort around Harry, tugging on Harry’s hand to encourage him to join in.

“I’m bad,” Harry called out. “Really bad.”

“I don’t care,” Draco began to gyrate his hips into Harry’s.

Harry backed up. “What are you doing?” Harry looked around to see if anyone was watching.

“Trying to have fun. No one knows who we are. No one cares. Just dance,” Draco ordered. He released Harry’s hand and ran his fingers through his own hair. He felt free. Free to make a fool of himself if he wanted. Free to dance publicly with the object of his affection. All with no consequences. He wanted Harry to enjoy it with him.

The girl with the cleavage was back. Harry couldn’t be positive it was Pansy. Now that Draco was no longer attached to Harry, she ground up against Draco and put her arms around his neck. Draco reciprocated, placing his arms around her waist. He was smiling.

Something in Harry snapped at seeing this. He stepped forward and pulled presumed Pansy away from Draco. She staggered back a step or two on her stilettos. Even through her mask, Harry could see a look of shock on her face.

“He’s mine,” Harry shouted. “Stay away from him.”

The feeling of possessiveness that took over Harry surprised himself as well. The thought of anyone else touching Draco in such a manor made his blood boil. He unexpectedly grabbed Draco and began jumping and dancing, doing his best to imitate the mass.

Draco smirked. Harry was right. He was bollocks at dancing. But the way he jealously protected what he considered his, turned Draco on.

The Sisters slowed down the music and the dance floor cleared by more than half. Harry and Draco found themselves feeling much more exposed than before without so many others to hide amongst. Both Harry and Draco tried to wrap their arms around the other’s waist.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Draco told Harry.

“No, I’m not a girl. You put yours around mine.”

Harry put his arms over top of Draco’s. Neither wanted to be trapped under the other and they wrestled for control.

“Wait,” Harry finally said. He took Draco’s left arm and draped it over his shoulder. Then, he put his own left arm around Draco’s shoulder, leaving their right hands on one another’s waist.

“I think I like your compromise,” Draco smiled. “But I don’t like this scarf thing.” He pulled the bandana down off Harry’s face. “That’s better.”

They began to sway with the music.

“You don’t like the bandana. What do you think of the rest of my outfit?” Harry asked.

“It’s very concealing,” Draco pouted. “What do you think of mine?”

“Very non-concealing,” Harry snickered. “How did you manage to pour yourself into those trousers?”

“Actually, I shrunk them onto myself,” Draco admitted. “Don’t ask me to bend over. I’m sure they’ll rip to shreds if I do,” he laughed.

Harry shuddered at the thought of Draco bending over for him and the image that thought conjured in his head. He let out a small involuntary moan.

Grinning widely, Draco begged the question, “You like that, do you?”

Harry merely nodded.

“You’re taller tonight,” Draco observed.

“Part of the disguise.”

“I like it. You’re just the right height.”

“For what?”

Draco leaned forward and captured Harry’s lips in a sensuous kiss. Harry’s fingers wound through Draco’s blue hair while pressing his body further into Draco’s.

The music switched back to the Weird Sister’s usual loud, raucous dance beat, sending students back to the dance floor. Harry and Draco didn’t seem to notice and continued to snog. They vacillated between dancing and snogging for the remainder of the night. Harry noted that the girl with the cleavage never came back.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

It was difficult to tell who many of the party guests were. Some students were so completely hidden by their costumes, it was hard to distinguish if the wearer was a boy or a girl. Others barely took care to disguise themselves at all.

Padma and Parvati walked in together, neither having secured dates. In truth, most of the students had gone dateless. Ginny and Dean had gone together, as well as Luna and Neville. And of course, Ron and Hermione, and Harry and Draco. And a few others. However, there was a certain amount of excitement, dancing and interacting with a mystery person, that the students enjoyed.

Dancing partners were exchanged often, though some lingered. Part of the fun was trying to figure out exactly who was under the mask. For the most part, older Slytherin students guessed that Draco was the tall, thin figure in the white leather. Even though his hair was disguised, his lean physique was distinguishable. However, it occurred to no one, with the exception of Hermione, that Harry was his dancing partner for the evening.

Someone dressed as a vampire approached Parvati and held out his hand. She was fairly certain it was a he, anyway. The vampire bowed to her, and stood waiting for a reply to his unasked question. Tentatively, Parvati took the offered hand, and the boy swept her onto the dance floor.

They were dancing, more or less ball room style, but quickly, to keep up with the beat of the music. Parvati was spun and twirled and dipped. Her partner seemed to be making it all up on the spot. And perhaps he wasn’t the finest dancer, but she was having fun. Padma and Romilda watched the pair as they drank pumpkin punch.

“Who is that?” Romilda asked.

Padma shrugged. “Don’t know. But I wish someone like that would ask me to dance.”

“Why wait for someone to ask you? Go out there.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“Why not? You’re wearing a mask.”

“Everyone knows my hair. Even up in this bun, I’m sure everyone can tell it’s me.”

Romilda sighed. “So what. It’s a party. Ask somebody.”

“You ask somebody,” Padma challenged.

“All right, I will.” Romlida scanned the room for a lone party goer to approach. She spotted two definitely male figures standing on the far side of the room. She grabbed Padma’s arm.

“Come on. We’re dancing.”

Though she tried to pry Romilda’s hand from her arm, Padma couldn’t escape and had no choice but to follow her sister’s friend toward the boys.

“Do you want the one dressed in robes or the cat-thing?” Romilda asked Padma.

“Um, I guess the dress robes.”

As the girls drew nearer, Romilda put on her best smile. “My friend and I are in need of dancing partners. Would you be interested?”

The boys looked at each other. They looked back at Romilda and nodded eagerly. She recognized one of them as Jack Sloper, who was in her year. She decided not to tell Padma that both boys were more than likely two years younger than her.

“What are you supposed to be?” Romilda questioned Jack.

“A werewolf, of course,” he frowned. He knew his costume was poorly put together, but he thought it was at least recognizable.

The other boy took Padma’s arm and led her to the dance floor.

When the music slowed, Padma caught sight of her sister, still dancing with the same vampire. She was pleased to see her having a good time and forgetting all about that stupid Michael Corner.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Anthony watched, with Ernie and Justin, just on the fringes of the dance party. The three of them planned their costumes together and stood looking rather silly as three Merlins. They had decided to be famous wizards, but all of them wanted to be the most famous wizard. And since none would give in to the others, they all showed up as the same thing.

“We can’t stand together like this. We look ridiculous. No girls are going to want to dance with us,” Ernie said.

Suddenly, Anthony spotted who he thought was Tracey. “I agree. I’m gone.” And he disappeared into the crowd.

Ernie was next to leave. “Yeah, I’m just gonna go for it.”

Justin was left standing awkwardly on his own. He made his way to the refreshment table, thinking it would give him something to do with his fidgety hands.

A girl dressed as a sorceress was standing right in front of the cups for the pumpkin punch. If Justin was to get one, he’d have to ask her to move. He cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, but could I have a cup?”

“Sorry?” the girl cocked her head. “I can’t hear you over the band,” she shouted.

He leaned a bit closer. “I asked if you could hand me a cup,” he said, louder.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was blocking the way.” The girl smiled. She wore an odd sort of mask that showed her mouth, but came down on the sides and covered her cheeks.

“No problem,” he smiled back as she handed him a cup. He dipped it into the punch and took a sip.

“I love this band,” the girl shouted.

“Yeah,” Justin agreed. “I miss the bagpipes, though.”

The girl nodded. “Are you Merlin?” she asked.

“Yes. Although, there are several of us,” he laughed.

“Your costume is nice. I’m Morgana,” she offered.

“It’s a shame you’re my sworn enemy,” he joked. “I’d ask you to dance.” Hiding behind a mask gave him new found confidence.

“Oh, did I say Morgana? I meant to say Laverne de Montmorency,” she responded coyly.

“Ah, the love potion inventor. Now I must ask you to dance.” He couldn’t believe he actually had the nerve to flirt with this girl. And she even seemed to be flirting back. He put his cup down and extended a crooked elbow toward her. She placed her own cup on the table and linked her arm through his.

Justin and his newly acquired dancing partner made their way through the crowd. On the way, he saw Anthony and Tracey. Justin gave him a thumbs up as he passed.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Anthony approached a girl in a tight spotted outfit with a tail and ears. She wore a mask that only covered her eyes.

“Tracey?”

“Who are you?” she furrowed her brow.

He pulled his beard down and lifted his mask.

“Oh,” she said self consciously. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, just as self consciously. “It’s sort of loud here. Can we talk somewhere?”

“Um, I’m here with Daphne. I can’t just leave her.”

Anthony’s shoulders dropped. “Seriously? You don’t think she can handle herself alone?”

She glanced at Daphne, who was sandwiched between two boys as they all danced.

“Have you been avoiding me?” he questioned.

“Um.” She wasn’t sure how to answer. She had been, but not for the reason he probably thought. Seamus had chosen her wand at the third party. She refused to do everything he requested of her, and so she broke out in boils for the following week. Feeling embarrassed and ugly, Tracey didn’t want anyone to see her, but especially Anthony.

“Oh. I see.” He lowered his mask and pulled his beard back up over his mouth. “Sorry to have bothered you.” He frowned and turned to leave.

Tracey gave another quick look to Daphne, who was now dancing with three boys.

“You’re on your own,” she muttered to Daphne, knowing she couldn’t possibly be heard. “Wait!” she shouted to Anthony and caught the sleeve of his robe. As he turned to face her, Anthony saw Justin walk by grinning, giving him a thumbs up. Anthony returned the gesture, then went back to frowning.

“I’ll go with you. I want to explain.”

Anthony put a gentle hand on her lower back and led her through the swarm of dancers. The pair left the party and walked through the castle until they came upon a secluded spot.

They sat on a large windowsill facing one another. The pair removed their facial disguises and regarded one another.

Tracey began speaking first. “I was avoiding you last week.”

“You brought me all the way here to tell me that?” His mouth became a thin straight line as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“I was avoiding you because I didn’t want you to see me. I had to pay the consequences of the game and I got boils.” It was embarrassing to tell him she had them, even if he didn’t actually see them.

“Seamus picked your wand, right?”

“Yes.” She lowered her gaze.

“And you didn’t do what he wanted?” She shook her head. “Why not?”

“I actually went to the party hoping to get your wand again.” She bit her lip and waited for his response.

He smirked. “Really? I didn’t think you Slytherins liked to co-mingle with the rest of us.”

“You do have a lot of misconceptions about us, don’t you?”

“You’re educating me. What about last night? You don’t seem to have any boils today.”

“Oh. Yes, because I was the chooser. Well, technically, I was both, because Padma was odd girl out and we all had to put our wands back for her to choose. She ended up picking mine.”

“So what happened?”

“Not much, to Theo’s disappointment,” she laughed. “We all played exploding snap. Although, Theo tried his best to turn it into strip exploding snap,” she laughed again. Anthony joined her. “What about you?”

“Uh, Romilda picked me.” He didn’t want to elaborate. There was nothing official between him and Tracey, but he still felt uncomfortable telling her things that went on between him and Romilda.

Tracey nodded.

“I would have preferred you,” he offered quietly. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

She knew what he meant. “Fine. Really. I was feeling perfectly fine a couple of days after.” She looked away shyly.

“Do you regret it?”

“Not at all,” she answered quickly. “In fact,” her heart started to beat faster as she contemplated what she was about to say. “I was hoping the second time would be even better.”

His eyes widened. “Seriously? With me?”

Tracey giggled. “No, with Slughorn,” she said sarcastically. “Of course, with you.” She leaned forward, intending to kiss him.

“Wait.” He stopped her.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes. I should at least take you out first or something. I don’t want to take advantage.”

She smiled. “You wouldn’t be. I want to. It was my idea.” She reached out her hand for his. “I like you. Do you like me?”

“Very much.”

“Then come with me. And prove it.”

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

“Disgusting, innit?” Ron said in Hermione’s ear as he jerked his head in Harry and Draco’s direction.

“Why? Because it appears to be two boys?”

“No, because they’re having more fun than us,” Ron grinned and drew Hermione closer. “And I didn’t think of it first.” He tilted his chin and smoothly glided his lips over Hermione’s. She responded by parting her mouth and allowing him to take whatever liberties he pleased.

After a while, Ron suggested they leave the party.

“But I’m having fun,” Hermione protested.

“It’s over at midnight anyway,” Ron reminded her. The large enchanted clock read eleven forty-three. “Let’s go make our own magic before our roommates get back.” He wriggled his eyebrows at her. She couldn’t see the gesture behind his mask, but she didn’t need to. She knew what he meant. “Although,” Ron continued. “I am curious as to who those two are. If I had to guess, I’d say the taller, skinny one is Malfoy. Except he’s smiling way too much to be him. I don’t have any idea about the other one.”

Hermione shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know,” she answered, hoping to dissuade him from his curiosity.

“We would if we stayed ‘til midnight. Everyone is supposed to be revealed,” he told her.

“What? I didn’t know that.”

“Oh yeah, you and Harry were in the library. McGonagall sent an owl to each House about it. The magic in the Great Hall will be cancelled, ending the dance. I guess she didn’t want anyone ending up starkers when their spells reversed at midnight,” Ron laughed.

“You mean, all the magic disappears? Not just the decorations?”

“Yeah, well, magic conjured for the party. Sort of like that fairy tale.”

“Cinderella? So, clothing goes back to normal and things transfigured go back to their original form?” Hermione thought about Harry’s glasses and hair.

“What’s the big deal? I don’t think there’s any doubt as to who we are. Not really any other ginger boys. And who else would I be with?” He nuzzled her neck, then lowered his mouth to her décolletage. “Come on, let’s go.”

Hermione pushed his face up out of her bosom and giggled. “Why don’t you go make sure we’ll have your room to ourselves. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long, luv,” Ron called as he made his way to leave the party.

Making a beeline for Harry, Hermione weaved her way through the crowd. She came upon the pair, kissing again. For a moment, she watched Malfoy gently caressing Harry’s cheek while peppering him with short, tender kisses. He pulled back and smiled at Harry in a way she’d never seen him smile. Actually, she thought him incapable of anything other than a sneering smirk before catching his grin in Potions the previous day.

With no time to waste, Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him to face her.

“You have to leave,” she said.

“Why?” Harry grinned. “We’re having fun. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

“Because,” Hermione glanced up at the clock. “In,” she paused to look at the clock. “twelve minutes, your charms will disappear. Everything will go back to normal. Your hair, your glasses, Draco’s hair.” She was proud that she remembered to call him by his given name for a change. “Everyone who is here will be revealed.”

He leaned to Draco’s ear and relayed Hermione’s message, suggesting they leave straight away.

“Thanks Hermione,” Harry kissed her cheek.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she chuckled. “You won’t be able to get into your room for a while.” Hermione kicked off her pointy, uncomfortable shoes, scooped them up, grabbed the front of her skirt and dashed out of the Great Hall.

“Yeah, thanks, Hermione,” Harry muttered to himself.

Taking Draco by the hand, Harry zigzagged his way through the mass to the entrance of the Hall. Once through, they were able to speak in a more normal volume. Although Harry’s ears were ringing just a bit.

“Where to?” he asked Draco. “Unless you’re ready to call it a night.”

“There’s only one place to go.”

“Astronomy Tower?” Harry didn’t really have to ask.

The two quietly crept through the castle, keeping a sharp eye out for Filch, who loved to catch students where they weren’t supposed to be. Fortunately, Mrs. Norris often gave him away. And Harry hadn’t been caught by Filch in a long time.

Once they reached the tallest tower in Hogwarts, Draco insisted they return to their usual appearances.

“You don’t like me as a strawberry blond?” Harry asked coyly.

“With those eyebrows? Definitely not,” Draco said as he waved his wand at his own hair, returning it to its platinum glory. He removed his mask and was all set to transfigure his clothing back, when Harry stopped him.

“Can’t you leave those trousers on for a little while longer?” Harry blushed as he very obviously glanced at Draco crotch.

“We’ll see how long they continue to accommodate me,” Draco smirked.

Harry removed his mask and transfigured it back into his glasses.

“Don’t bother putting those back on,” Draco told him. He took them out of Harry’s hand and tossed them on the jacket Harry had already taken off. Harry changed his hair back and stood, almost eye to eye with Draco.

“The boots,” Draco motioned to them. “As convenient as it may be for you to be taller, I enjoy looming over you.”

Taking off the boots, Harry shrunk down a good three inches. “That’s all. The rest is just me.”

“Perfect,” Draco breathed and lunged at Harry, pinning him to the wall.

He’d been kissing Harry off and on all evening, but they’d been restrained, in public. Draco pressed his mouth over Harry’s, remembering not crush his lips as he had the night before. While their tongues danced together, Draco’s hands wandered up under Harry’s shirt. Draco rubbed lightly over Harry’s nicely developed chest and abs before inching their way further down.

Draco felt Harry tense up when he released the button on Harry’s jeans. In an instant, the zipper was down and Draco’s right hand was working its way into Harry’s pants.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s hand on his wrist stopped Draco from going past the waistband.

Panting softly, Draco asked him, “Aren’t you tired of wanking alone in the bathroom after our little meetings? I am.”

Chuckling lightly, Harry told him, “I didn’t have a chance to last night. Hermione waited up for me.”

“Let me help you then,” Draco breathed. “I can make you feel so good.” He pulled back further to look at Harry. “Are you still not sure of this?” he questioned.

“You don’t understand,” Harry averted his eyes. “I want this, but . . . I, uh.”

“I don’t understand? It’s not exactly easy for me either. My father would disown me if he knew. He expects me to marry one of the Greengrass girls when I leave here. Or some other pureblood bitch.” Draco sighed and removed his hand from Harry’s pants. The moment seemed to be gone. “If you’re still unsure, maybe we ought to cool things for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry hung his head. “Are you angry?”

“I’m frustrated,” The Slytherin mumbled. “I thought . . . at the party you were so . . . I thought you wanted me as much as I want you.” Draco had always kept the upper hand. He never conveyed desperation to anyone. But he was desperate to have Harry. He closed his eyes, unable to bear facing his confessor.

Harry’s brain shouted, I do. His mouth, however, wouldn’t work. He knew the longer he went without saying anything, the more it would appear to Draco that Harry didn’t want him after all.

Finally, Draco opened his eyes and stepped back from Harry. He silently transfigured his white leather trousers back into jeans, picked up his mask and Vanished it.

“Maybe you’re not quite so bent as you thought, Potter. Or maybe it’s just me.”

Harry watched him head down the spiral staircase, still struggling to find words. They’d snogged enough to know there was great chemistry. How was he to explain that it wasn’t Draco, it was himself? Harry punched the wall behind him with the side of his fist. He’d already given that speech to Ginny. What the hell was wrong with him?

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The Wand Game