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Where’s My Dragon?	By : ZooArmy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 49553 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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.

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BETA: Violet_Eyes

WARNINGS: Violence, berserk magic, cliffhanger (Sorry!)

This’ll be no fun and games, but I hope you’ll
love it nevertheless. Nothing fluffy will be found.

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Where’s My Dragon? |
Part Twelve | The Great Hall – He’s my…

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They
entered the Great Hall and took their usual seats at the Gryffindor table.
Harry couldn’t stop scratching over his left arm, it was itching horribly and
he frantically tried to look over to the Slytherin table, but too many students
tried to get to their seats that he couldn’t even see Draco’s silver blond
shock of hair. Everyone at his table greeted him happily and welcomed him back
and he began to pile food on his plate slowly, under the content looks of
Hermione and Ron.

“Harry, what’s with your arm? Stop scratching
it.”

“Eurm,
nothing – nothing.”

He hadn’t
even recognised drawing his nails over his shirt and his arm was probably all
red and blotchy now.

The
students in the hall settled down and Harry tried again to look over at the
house table of Slytherin.

“Harry, mate, you’re here to eat somethin’, not to dislocate your neck for the g…, I mean
for Malfoy.”

Harry gave
Ron a look, but turned his head back without further words. Okay, there were
Blaise and Pansy and Crabbe and Goyle, but no Draco.

Harry’s
face fell. It had been the main reason why he got down to lunch with his two
best friends.

Hermione
noticed his sad expression and put a comforting hand on his arm.

“He’ll come, Harry. I’m sure.”

The last
days she had used for research, but till now she hadn’t found an answer and was
convinced that it was the best for now not to get Harry depressed again. And
now that Snape had assured her in that thought, she tried even harder. Maybe
she could talk to Snape and even work something out with him. She wouldn’t just
sit and wait until her Potions Master showed up with a solution – never.

Harry made
a bounce all of a sudden and tore her out of her thoughts. Draco went in long
elegant strides to the Slytherin table and Harry’s eyes shone, like they hadn’t
in a long time. Even before he had been drugged with the potion it was long ago
that his eyes had looked that, well… alive. She could feel the happiness
radiating from him and a true smile spread over her face.

“See! I told you, he would show up.”

Harry
forgot his food completely and tried to watch Draco inconspicuously. He wore clean clothes, had shaved and his
beautiful hair was tied back in a pony tail. Harry just wanted one look of
Draco. One look to know that everything was fine, that
he was still in love with him. But he knew they needed to be careful or
someone, who shouldn’t know, could find out.

Draco sat
between Blaise and Pansy and talked animatedly with both. He piled food on his
plate and ate, apparently, driven by hunger. Harry was pleased to see that his
love ate properly. That he himself barely ate slipped his attention or was of
no importance.

Their looks
met and Draco winked at him, before turning back to talk to his friends.

His stomach
made a somersault and filled with warmth.

--Slytherin
Table--at the same time--

“Boy, I don’t know what happened, but I like
you much better like you’re now. Where have you been last night?”

“I already told you, it’s none of
your business.”

“Okay, if you don’t want to tell your best
friend, fine. But I think, if you can find the way that
easily back to your own self, Granger should punch you more often from
now on.”

The
Slytherin Prince glared at Blaise, who laughed joyfully.

“Funny Blaise, reeeeeally
funny. Maybe
someone should punch you to change you from an arsehole to someone bearable.”

Pansy threw
her arms around his neck and chirped happily:

“Oh come on Draco, don’t be such a spoilsport.
We just want to know what had happened yesterday. It seemed all very strange
and when you vanished after dinner and didn’t come back, we were concerned.”

She rested
her head against Draco’s shoulder and sighed.

“It’s good that you’re no longer down anymore.”

--Gryffindor
Table--at the same time--

His heart
was racing, his blood boiled and he breathed hard. She wasn’t coming on to Draco,
was she? No one, except himself, was allowed to touch his dragon like that.

“Harry, god, what’s wrong?”

Hermione
and Ron looked at him with concerned huge eyes.

“She. Is. Touching. My. Man!”

His hands
cracked from fisting them so hard that his nails dug painfully deep into his
palms, but he didn’t bother. His breath got uneasy and his eyes burned with
jealousy. Hermione saw the wrath rising in Harry and tried to cool him down.
She knew the power, waiting to break free under his skin, and she feared he
could hurt himself and others seriously.

“Harry, no, she’s Draco’s best friend, nothing
more. Really, Harry! Aren’t I right, Ron? Please, calm down.”

“Yes, mate. Herm’s right. She won’t take your
Draco away. – Harry, no!”

The Golden
Boy’s eyes turned completely green, like the one of cats and his hair stuck out
as being electrostatic. He heard no one, just his mind screaming in anger.

Pansy
Parkinson’s hair turned purple and Draco and Blaise looked at her with their
mouths ajar.

“Panse,
what… your hair!”

The girl
let go of Draco’s neck and opened her pony tail to look at her hair. The scream
she screamed turned the attention of the entire Great Hall towards her.

Her face
began to turn purple and the whole hall gasped.

“What? What? WHAT?” she screeched.

Draco
conjured a mirror for her and she screamed shrilly, seeing her face being
completely dyed in lilac.

“Harry, stop it. You’ll hurt her. It’s enough.”

The dark
haired boy didn’t hear Hermione and gritted his teeth. She would pay. This
bitch would pay for what she had done.

Pansy jumped up from her seat and spasmed with
every move. Her
eyes were ripped wide open and looked at Draco and Blaise with pure essential
fear.

And she
stood still!

Her hands
wandered up to her neck and her eyes filled with tears, got red from blood and
bulged. Both Slytherin boys jumped up and Draco grabbed her arms and shook her
slightly.

“Panse! Panse!
Shit, what’s wrong! Fuck, Pansy!”

Her legs
wilted under her weight and she slumped down on her knees. With pleading eyes
she looked up at Draco and cawed with last of her strength:

“Drac- … help… breathe.”

Blaise came
to her side and caught her unconscious body. The blonde let go of her and spun
around, glaring at the staff table deathly.

“Why the fucking bloody damn hell is no one of
you stupid bastards helping her?”

Snape was
already up and on the way to Pansy and the others stood up and followed him
quickly.

Draco
looked around and glared at the entire hall. His eyes landed on Harry and his
odd look. Granger and Wealsey were tearing at his
arms and… and it dawned him.

The
Slytherin pushed everyone who was in his way aside and ran as fast as he could
over to the Gryffindors. Without a second thought, he
tackled Harry and dragged him down to the ground. He shook the boy relentless,
smacked his head to the ground and screamed at him high pitch.

“Stop it! Stop it! Harry, stop it! You will
kill her! Stop this shit.”

It sounded
almost pleading, but he didn’t care – one of his best friends was suffocating
on the other side of the hall. His fists flew down on the Gryffindor’s
chest, who lay beneath him like a doll – completely
paralyzed and his mind far away from this world. Draco broke down and rested
his head on Harry’s chest. His tears streamed freely down his face and he knew
just one more way to stop the boy from killing Pansy.

“Baby, please! Stop it!”

The whole
hall was deathly silent after Draco had stopped screaming. Just Blaise’s murmur echoed through the rows.

“Panse, come on! Pan-syyy!” and suddenly the desperate, panic voice changed into
a euphoric one. “Pansy! Pansy! – Draco, she’s
breathing, Pansy’s breathing!”

A sigh of
relief went through the whole hall. Hermione kneeled next to Draco and Harry
and touched the blonde’s arm softly.

“Mal- Draco, are you okay?”

The
Slytherin crawled down from Harry and looked down at him; his eyes changed
slowly back to his usual one.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.”

Harry’s
senses crept back into him and he slowly sat up, looking at Draco.

“Draco, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

The
blonde’s fist collided with Harry’s face and sent him flat down to the ground
again. Anger was burning in Draco. In his eyes. In his voice. If he wasn’t mistaken he even felt it in his
hair.

“What is wrong? YOU ALMOST KILLED HER! Why? Why
did you do that? I thought you love me! You know what? That’s it. I’ve nothing
to do with you anymore. I HATE YOU!”

Blaise
carried Pansy’s still unconscious body out of the hall, followed from Madame Pomfrey. Draco stood up slowly, glared one last time at
Harry and followed them to the infirmary.

Harry
looked up at Herm and Ron with shaken, faint eyes. His nose was bleeding,
swollen and turned instantly black and blue. The strange angle, Draco had it
beaten in, looked pretty painful. Ron gave him a helping hand and pulled him up
to his feet. They had the attention of the entire hall, when Harry felt at his
definitely broken nose and turned to Hermione. He didn’t need to say one thing,
his eyes spoke clearly enough.

Herm shook
her head and heaved a sigh. She couldn’t look at him.

“Harry,” she sighed again and stared down at
the ground.

“No!” the Golden Boy whispered and covered his
mouth with his hands. Without another word he bolted out of the hall and
downstairs. Just through the way Herm had said his name, he knew that something
had gone terribly wrong.

He ran down
the stairs. He needed to get down to the Slytherin rooms, to talk to Draco. And
if it was necessary to throw himself at his feet and beg and plea, he would do.
His blood was racing in his veins and felt dizzy. He was exhausted, but couldn’t
stop now, not before he hadn’t seen Draco. Deep black shadows crept into his
field of vision and he steadied himself at the dungeon wall. His pace got
slower with every step he took and he came to a complete halt. His field of
vision got smaller and smaller and black dots danced in front of him. The
hallway was spinning and he closed his eyes. His legs got weak and he went down
on his knees. His stomach was repulsing and he threw up.

‘Maybe Mme Pomfrey
was right and I should rest a…’

“little:”

He fell to the
side and his already unconscious body hit the ground.

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Where’s My Dragon?