Sex Magic | By : velvetjules Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 90819 -:- 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. |
******
By the end of the next day, Harry was fully convinced that Voldemort had complete control of the Daily Prophet, and for the past six years had been using it to slowly wear down his sanity like a quill tip.
The story had finally leaked onto the headlines. Confidentiality contracts were worth bugger all against the wagging tongues of vindictive Slytherins.
"Boy Hero Exposed In Gay Tryst!"
This reporter has it on good authority that Harry Potter, who survived the Dark Lord's killing curse at the tender age of infancy, and who more recently made public his personal vendetta against You-Know-Who for the brutal murders of his beloved parents, has been involved in a scandalous love affair with another male student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Even more shocking, Potter's lover has recently disappeared. The boy, Draco Malfoy, son of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy (the latter of whom was accused of being a supporter of You-Know-Who fifteen years ago) did not return to his dormitory late yesterday (Monday) evening. As of yet, Hogwarts and Ministry officials have been close-lipped about the issue, but unidentified sources have revealed to the Prophet that Potter himself is under suspicion...
Harry thumped his head against his headboard.
The article, of course, had prompted the swift and glorious descent of Narcissa Malfoy upon Hogwarts. Harry would gladly endure the Cruciatus curse before ever again being on the receiving end of her wrath. He thought even McGonagall had appeared frazzled during their meeting earlier in the Headmaster's office. He might have relished her discomfort, if he hadn't been under attack at the time. He hadn't forgotten about her involvement in his situation with Malfoy.
Hearing halting footsteps outside of the door to the Seventh Year boys' dorm, Harry groaned. He didn't know if he could handle any more well-intentioned sympathy speeches from his roommates. Therefore, he was surprised when he heard a female voice through the door.
"Harry?" Hermione called tentatively.
Screwing up his eyes, Harry gave his head another good thump before answering. "Yeah, come in."
Hermione slipped into the room with the universal awkwardness of someone entering a messy, emotional situation somewhat against their will. Leaning against the door, she pressed her palms flat against the wood and it shut with a muted thud. Harry watched as she took a deep breath, drew her shoulders back, and pushed away from the door. She took a few steps toward where he was sitting on his bed. She was the first to speak, and he was sure she resented it.
"Do you want to talk?" she asked.
"All I've done today is talk," he responded bitterly.
Hermione nodded and looked away. Harry plucked at a loose string on his pillowcase.
"Look Harry, I don't know what happened, and if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. It's none of my business." She paused, her mouth moving silently once before she continued. "But, from what you've told me, it seemed that things were going... well. And then Neville said-"
"Yes," Harry cut in acidly, "Neville said."
Hermione had never been slow and, after a second or two, realization replaced the blank stare she'd been giving him.
"Oh," she said softly. "I see. I thought I heard the portrait close. I wondered..."
Harry sighed, the tension leaving his body and he slumped forward. "It wasn't just you."
He went on to tell her about Dumbledore, McGonagall and Mason. She gasped when she heard how deep the plot to force him together with Malfoy went. After several minutes of contemplative silence, during which Harry could see the wheels of thought turning inside of her head as easily as her teeth gnawing her lip, she finally looked up at him.
"It makes a kind of sense," she said.
Harry gaped at her. "Sense? Are you mad?"
"No. I mean it's horrible, obviously," she continued, in the same tone that scientists use to defend experimentation on bunnies. "I certainly don't agree with what they've done. But the ability to take an entire generation of Death Eaters away from Voldemort... Harry, surely even you can see the good in it?"
"Yeah, of course. What was I thinking? How selfish of me to want to win a war without the expense of my being raped!" Harry glared at her.
Hermione sighed heavily. "Oh, Harry! I know it's awful! I'm not making excuses for what's been done, I'm just trying to imagine this from Dumbledore's perspective. Choices like that; over what and who should be sacrificed for the greater good. It's got to be difficult. He made the wrong choice, this time. It was bound to happen sooner or later."
She sighed, and went on. "But it's not as if he forced the two of you together. He simply refused to allow you to drop the class once it had happened. He saw the opportunity there and took it. The Goblet put you with Malfoy, Harry. Not Dumbledore. Don't throw away what you've got going there because you're bitter over being betrayed. It's not worth it."
Harry moped silently. He didn't like Hermione sometimes - particularly when she was at her most rational. He sighed. "I hadn't thought of that."
"So what are you going to do?" she asked, coming over to sit next to him on the bed.
"I don't know. Narcissa Malfoy is breathing down my neck. She can be bloody frightening, you know. McGonagall is threatening me with expulsion if Malfoy isn't found. And the sodding Daily Prophet-"
"Expulsion? Oh, Harry..."
Leave it to Hermione to think that being expelled was the worst of the three options. Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headboard. He honestly didn't know what to do. He hadn't the slightest clue where he'd sent Malfoy, as he'd repeatedly told everyone who asked.
"You're sure you didn't specify a place, Potter? Even unconsciously? The Room of Requirement can pick up on even the slightest unspoken desire..."
"No! I've told you, I just wanted him to go away."
"Stupid child," Narcissa hissed, looming over him like a vengeful Veela. Harry half expected her to sprout wings and a beak.
Shaking himself out of his reverie, Harry realized that Hermione had been speaking.
"Uh, what?" he asked.
Hermione's mouth pinched with disapproval. "I was saying, why don't you just go to the Room of Requirement and wish Malfoy back?"
Harry blinked. It was the sort of suggestion Ron would make. Hermione's contributions normally included complex spells, potions, riddles or bafflingly boring bits of history.
"Hermione," he began slowly. "I don't know. I mean, I have no idea where I even sent him."
"But the room knows," she argued reasonably. "Besides, it couldn't hurt to try."
"Why do I feel like those words will come back to haunt me?" Harry asked as he slid off of the bed and began lacing up his trainers.
***
"I wish for Draco Malfoy."
Silence answered Harry's feeble request.
"I want Draco Malfoy, right here, right now."
The silence seemed to snicker back at him.
"Please?"
Nothing. Harry huffed and fell back against plush pillows. He spared a glance at the familiar sheets, and shook his head. Typical. He'd walked by the Room of Requirement three times, concentrating on a simple aim. 'A place where I can find Malfoy...'
The room had supplied him with the Sex Magic classroom instead.
Squeezing his eyes tightly closed, Harry tried to concentrate. He sensed that in order to get Malfoy back, he'd have to want him here as badly as he'd wanted him to go in the first place. He tried to bring back the feelings that he experienced during classes with Malfoy, here in this room, in this bed...
His only results were burning cheeks and a semi-interested twitch in his pants. Sighing loudly, Harry crossed his arms behind his head and settled in for a long night of waiting. He was tired, irritated, and he had a headache from being talked at all day. He just wished Malfoy would hurry up and get his arse back from wherever he'd disappeared to so that he could go to sleep.
Several things happened at once.
Something heavy landed on the bed beside him, accompanied by a startled yelp that Harry was fairly certain hadn't come from him. Before he could turn his head to look at the other person, he heard a sickening crunch that originated from the general area of his nose and pain exploded behind his eyes.
Cupping his damaged face in his hands, Harry threw himself off of the side of the bed and landed hard on the floor. Hearing the bed springs creaking above him, he rolled under the bed just in time to see a pair of booted feet swing over the side. Scooting out from the other side, Harry rushed to his feet and pointed his wand at Draco's back.
"Expelliarmus!"
Malfoy's wand smacked into his outstretched hand, and the outraged Slytherin whirled around to face him.
"You bastard!" he rasped.
Before Harry had time to recover, Draco had vaulted across the mattress and flung himself headlong into Harry's gut. The heavy thud of impact vibrated through him and Harry instinctively turned on his heel, sending Malfoy sprawling onto the ground. With a growl, the blond was back on his feet and driving his shoulder into Harry's throat. They toppled onto the bed, Harry on his back and clutching at his bruised Adam's apple.
"I'll kill you!"
Malfoy was cursing hoarsely above him, and Harry flung his hands up to ward off the steady blows falling on his face and shoulders.
"Stop it!" he shouted.
Malfoy responded with attempts to punch harder. Harry managed to catch one of his flailing wrists and twisted it painfully. Draco grunted and pulled back, allowing Harry to use his own momentum against him to reverse their positions. Quickly capturing Draco's other hand before it could resume hitting him, Harry hauled both of Malfoy's arms over his head and stared down at him.
"Christ, Malfoy! What the hell is wrong with you?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Harry realized the stupidity behind them.
"What's wrong with me, Potter? I've just spent days floating about in some great, black abyss of a hell that you wished me into!"
Harry winced, and then realized what Draco had said. "It wasn't days," he told him. "Not even twenty-four hours, yet."
Draco opened his mouth to retort, snapped it closed and glared.
"Well, it felt like days. I think time passed differently there. And there were things in the dark!"
Harry stared dumbly at him for several moments before clamping down hard on the laughter that bubbled up in his chest. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, trying to shut out the petulant look on Malfoy's face, but it was too late. His breath left him in a huge whoosh, and he laughed.
"You're making this up."
"I am not!" Malfoy retorted hotly, but his cheeks were flushed and his eyes darted from side to side. Draco was a terrible liar.
"You're such a drama queen," Harry told him, chuckling.
Draco responded by bucking up into him in renewed struggle. Harry continued to laugh as the boy squirmed beneath him, his wrists and hands moving beneath his fingers in a play of tendons and bone like bird wings.
"Come on, quit it," he told the furiously twisting snake underneath him. "I'm sorry, okay?"
Draco stilled momentarily, only to glare hotly back at him. "You think that matters?"
"Well, yes," Harry told him. "Look, I didn't mean for anything to happen. It's not like I knew that the Room was capable of something like that. And anyway, I brought you back, didn't I?"
Draco looked away and huffed out a breath through his nose. Harry shifted and relaxed his grip on Draco's hands, settling himself more comfortably. The other boy rolled his shoulders, turning to face Harry with a perplexed look on his face.
"Why are you still on top of me?" he asked.
"Er, just making sure you don't start hitting me again," Harry responded intelligently.
"Well, I'm not going to, so would you get off, already?" Draco demanded haughtily, giving Harry another little shove with his hips.
Which gave Harry other ideas.
But, considering the foul treatment he'd given Draco over the past twenty-four hours, he thought it best not to push his luck, and rolled over onto his back next to the other boy. Draco stayed put, but brought his arms down to rest comfortably on his stomach. He sighed heavily and stared at the ceiling silently for awhile before speaking.
"So, what did happen last night? You weren't making any sense." He was trying for bored curiosity in his tone, but couldn't quite accomplish it.
Harry grunted and brought a hand up to scrub at his aching nose before answering. It came back crusted with blood, and he pointed his wand between his eyes with a muttered, "Episkey!" After the pressure and dry, scabby feeling in his sinuses eased, he turned his head to stare at Malfoy's profile.
"I was angry. I'd gotten some bad news, and I took it out on you. I've apologized once already, but I am sorry."
Draco nodded and made a soft noise of agreement, looking down at his hands resting on his stomach to study his nails.
"Who knows about it?" he asked.
"Everyone," Harry winced. "When you didn't come back to the dorms that night, your friends fed the story to The Prophet. We made the front page-"
Draco groaned.
"Your mum came. She's rather frightening, isn't she?"
Draco overcame his pained embarrassment for a moment in order to laugh. "Yeah, she can be. Once when I was five, I dressed all of the house elves in her best dress robes and spelled her makeup all over their faces. Well, you can imagine that my aim wasn't very good back then. As much of it got on the robes as where it was supposed to. Apparently a few of the shades had been discontinued, too. She was so furious, she turned white."
Harry came very close to giggling. "I thought that was a natural complexion for you Malfoys."
"Shut it," said Draco, elbowing him in the ribs. "I'm hungry."
"Yeah, and I should probably go tell McGonagall that you're back."
"Yeah."
The two of them lay in silence for a few moments more before slowly getting to their feet.
"So, uh, I'll see you in class tomorrow?" Harry asked.
"Sure," Draco nodded.
An awkward moment passed, with much averted glances and shuffling of feet. Harry felt as if there should be more to this, that he was missing somehow. He'd already apologized, though.
"Well, uh... bye, then," he said, and fled the booth.
Draco remained behind, waving feebly at Harry's retreating back. Once he heard the door to the room clack shut, he sat back down on the bed and rubbed his hands across his face. It was greasy. So was his hair. He desperately needed a meal, a shower, and a bed. In that order.
He was disappointed in himself for not staying angry with Potter longer. Instead, he'd ended up sharing a laugh with him over a childhood anecdote. Even worse, the strange urge to roll over and stretch out closer to the Gryffindor had been present throughout their exchange.
With a muffled curse, Draco pushed himself to his feet again and stalked to the flap of the booth. He was pathetic. Nearly a whole day spent in purgatory, and all he could think about was why Harry Potter hadn't given him a goodnight kiss.
Harry might have dismissed the things he'd said last night as angry nothings shouted in the heat of the moment, but Draco had not. Two specifically came to mind as he contemplated their Sex Magic lesson tomorrow.
"I'll think it was me the whole time! I'll think it's real when it's not!"
"It was him! But you made me want it!"
'Oh, Potter,' Draco mused. 'A million conspiracy theories floating around in that lion's mane of yours, but you can't even see what's right in front of your face.'
Draco was tired of playing the reluctant victim. He'd gone searching for Potter last night for that very reason. Tomorrow's lesson would be very interesting.
******
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