Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Heart of the Matter	By : Jad Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7323 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Notes:

Some folks have expressed concern over the Harry/Theo phenomenon (and some of you are just insanely happy because you are mad and perverted, but hey, that's why I'm here). Keep in mind that this is Draco's POV, so 'why' (and yes, there is a reason outside of what I like to call the General Slashy Factor) may not be explained right away, or very well at all any time soon. Eventually, though, I promise. In the meantime, just enjoy the confusion.

Chapter Fifteen

'You're probably wondering,

what a place like me is doing in a girl like this!'

- The Mummy

: : :

Snape gave the semi-circle of boys before him a scathing look. 'You must be out of your minds.'

'We will be, if we've got to spend one more night locked up in here,' Potter protested soundly.

Silently, they all agreed. It was, after all, why after many hours and days of deliberation, they had all crammed upstairs outside the master bedroom to make the request. It had seemed like a good idea until Snape had actually opened the door and given them all a look that suggested they had come off the underside of his boot.

And of course, none of them were brave—or stupid—enough to actually voice said request, much less argue over it, except for Potter.

'Absolutely not,' Snape said shortly, and went to close the door.

Potter jammed his foot in the door. 'We're of age,' he pointed out. 'And this isn't school. You've got no right—'

'Of age and yet just as naïve as your unfortunate godfather, I see,' Snape replied coldly; Potter bristled. 'And even more ungrateful, if such a thing is possible.' He ignored the folded-arms-and-glaring Potter and instead looked down at the foot stuck in his door. 'Remove yourself from my doorway, Potter, or I shall be glad to remove you myself.'

Potter seemed to have some sense, Draco thought, because he removed himself quickly; Snape slammed the door closed in his face before he could breathe another word.

'Greasy git,' Potter snarled at the door.

'Bugger that,' Dean agreed. His animosity towards Potter hadn't lessened, but Gryffindors seemed unable to do anything but band together when working for a common cause. The common cause in this case being, quite simply, the need to get out of Headquarters for a few hours before they all went clinically insane.

'I say we go anyway,' Zacharias said as they trudged, defeated, back downstairs. 'He can tell us we can't all he wants, but it's not like he can actually stop us.'

'Even if we do, where would we go?' Terry asked. 'I mean, it's not like we're close to anywhere worth going...'

'We could Apparate,' Theodore pointed out.

'Not all of us have passed out tests,' Draco also pointed out. 'Besides, magic can be traced.'

'What happened to good old fashioned walking?' Zacharias suggested. 'We're wizards, not cripples. Our legs still work.'

'We could drive,' Dean suggested. 'Well, I can,' he said, when everyone looked at him. 'My brother taught me how last summer.'

'Well that's helpful considering none of us own a car,' Potter remarked, rolling his eyes.

'We could borrow one.' Now it was Theodore's turn to be the centre of attention. He narrowed his eyes at their looks. 'What?'

'We are not stealing a car,' Potter said sternly.

'It's not stealing if we bring it back.'

'Yeah, that's the bit that worries me.'

'Oh, for Christ's sake, stay here then,' Dean snapped. 'I can't believe after you and Ron stole his dad's car and flew it to school you'd have anything to say against this.'

'Not to mention wandering the halls at night,' Zacharias added, smirking.

'Or leading an illegal school club fifth year,' Draco tossed in, earning a snicker from Theodore. 'Seriously, Potter, I thought you had a pair.'

Potter frowned but stopped trying to protest.

'What about Ernie and Jake?' Terry asked.

'Ernie? Are you kidding? He won't do anything to jeopardise his getting Head Boy this year,' Zacharias said, rolling his eyes. 'And Bradley didn't bother to come with us so he can babysit your cousin for all I care.'

'Muggle cars don't have a lot of room anyway,' Dean pointed out, and then paused. 'What about the girls?'

: : :

'Are you sure we're allowed to be doing this?'

Draco had taken the backseat window and Theodore the other, leaving Zacharias sandwiched between them. He could hardly complain, though, with Susan acting as warm and soft—if not somewhat heavy—cushion in his lap. Dean was up front with Terry, Potter and Loony, the latter of whom was sitting half-on the former's lap because while the car was fairly roomy, only so many people could fit inside without magically altering it.

'Susie, relax,' Zacharias said, grinning. 'Even if we did get caught it's not like the Muggles could do anything to us.'

'Where are we going?' Luna asked, staring dreamily around.

'Out. Somewhere. Anywhere,' Dean said. 'A park or something. Does it matter?'

'A park?' Luna replied, looking surprised. 'In the middle of the night? That seems a bit silly.'

'Hey, what about that?' Zacharias said suddenly, pointing out the left side.

'Where?' said Dean distractedly.

'There,' Potter confirmed, pointing as well.

Draco tilted his head back so he could see around Susan. Dean pulled over to the side of a small, lamp-lit street packed with young Muggles.

'It's a pub,' Dean said after a moment of peering around. 'Bit busy, though.'

'Busy is good,' Potter said. 'They're less likely to notice us.'

They more or less piled out of the car and onto the pavement outside of The King's Head, Dean leading the way and Luna drifting idly behind. Susan took a quick look around and glanced nervously back at Draco; he offered her a smile and put a hand on the small of her back. 'C'mon, Susie.' She stuck her tongue out at him and then—at the sudden flash of mischief in his eyes—quickly pulled it back inside her mouth.

'Shit,' Dean hissed. 'There's a cover—I don't have enough for all of us—'

Theodore snatched the Muggle money from his hand, pointed his wand at it, and muttered, 'Effingous.'

The couple of notes turned into a very large handful which Dean divided among the lot of them after paying their way inside. It was a small tavern and overcrowded, with low rock music playing in the background and barely audible above the murmur of many voices and occasional laughs echoing through the place. It was strange to be around so many Muggles, but the atmosphere was cosy enough.

Next to him, Susan shrugged off her jacket. 'It's kind of like a small version of the ThreeBroomsticks,' she observed.

If he imagined the Three Broomsticks about half its size and devoid of everything that hinted at wizards, then he could see her point. A small, rectangular bench surrounded the bar and was overcrowded with patrons, some standing, some sitting on tall, rickety stools and teething fags between their lips. They followed Dean to the back where he'd managed to find an empty corner booth and filed in, one after another, around the oval table.

'Oh, this is so much better,' Dean said, expelling a sharp breath. 'One more night counting nicks in the ceiling and I would've gone mad.'

Several people nodded empathetically. Zacharias, however, slipped back onto his feet. 'Well, while we're here, I'm going to have a drink.'

'What do Muggles drink?' Luna asked.

'Alcohol, like everybody else?'

'You know what she meant,' Susan said, shaking her head. 'It's not exactly like they serve Firewhisky.'

'No, but regular whiskey is almost as good,' Dean assured her. 'But I need to drive us back, so beer'll have do—Smith, grab us a pint.'

'Grab one yourself!'

'Grab me one, too,' Theodore added.

Before Zacharias could explode in indignation at becoming a waiter in a matter of seconds, both Terry and Luna slipped out of their seats and offered to help. Looking begrudged but grateful, Zacharias stalked off with them and Dean in tow, the latter deciding it would probably be for the best he sorted the money issue as the rest were all wizard-raised and likely couldn't tell a note from a napkin—leaving Draco, Susan, Theodore and Potter sitting around the table.

'I hate that pillock,' Potter muttered as they left, glaring at Zacharias' back.

'Well, he's not exactly fond of you,' Draco pointed out cheerfully. 'Seems to be a popular sentiment.'

'Zach's not so bad,' Susan said defensively. 'Honestly, none of you are, at least on your own. It's when you're all together that you turn into nasty, incorrigible wankers.'

The three of them stared at her. Theodore was laughing and shaking his head.

'I think that's the most accurate term I've ever heard applied to you two,' he mused, smirking.

'Piss off,' Potter snapped, but without much conviction.

It was only then that Draco realised that Potter and Theodore were sitting shoulder to shoulder, much like he and Susan. But before he could say anything about it, Dean and the others returned, carrying two large pitchers of something golden and frothy, forcing them all to budge inwards to make room. This was unfortunate because it crammed Draco and Potter next to one another, but Draco chose to focus his attention on Susan, who was a much more pleasant presence on his other side.

It also kept his mind off the fact that sitting next to Potter allowed him to see whose fingers were just under his t-shirt, drawing idle patterns on the small of his back.

'This stuff tastes terrible,' Terry remarked, grimacing over a cup.

'I dunno, I kinda like it,' Susan said, shrugging. 'It's like Butterbeer without the scotch.' Draco raised his eyebrows at her; she blushed. 'My da's Irish,' she admitted. 'Ran a pub over in Bray when I was little.'

Two pitchers later, nobody was fully inebriated, but most of them were feeling considerably more light-headed and uncharacteristically giggly. Except for Potter who, it appeared, was more of a quiet drunk—his eyes were heavily dilated and he was grinning far too much, but had hardly said a word. Luna was perhaps the most interesting near-drunk he'd ever seen. Her eyes bulging wider than ever, she kept hiccupping and trying to braid Zacharias' hair, much to the Hufflepuff's distress. Draco and Terry had eventually consented to hold him down so she could, which had resulted in an upturned pitcher and a very large amount of vocal protesting.

Bored of tormenting the Hufflepuff, everyone had taken to trying to arm-wrestle Theodore—which of course was completely unfair, but Slytherins didn't rat each other out, so Draco watched, amused, as one by one everyone got their arms flattened to the table. Dean even tried using two arms and a considerable amount of leverage; Theodore smirked lazily and sipped his drink, holding his arm up straight for about two minutes of Dean's labouring before smacking his arm down with a half-hearted flex of his elbow.

'Cheater,' Dean grumbled, eyeing Theodore suspiciously.

Theodore smirked but didn't correct him. There was really no point in denying it.

Luna began squirming. Draco at first thought that perhaps a trip to the loo was in order, but eventually she gave Terry a strong prod in the ribs and, complaining about internal bleeding, he pushed his way out of the booth. Luna followed and the two of them wandered off into the crowd, disappearing in the chaotic assembly of swaying, giggling Muggles. Dean decided they needed a refill and went off to fetch it, forcing Zacharias to come along as it had been his resistance that had emptied their third pitcher onto the floor.

Presented with a clear route out of the booth, Susan tugged away from the arm he'd slung around her waist. 'I need to use the loo,' she complained, prying his fingers off her hip. 'Draco, honestly—'

Draco tightened his grip and put on a pout. 'How do I know you'll come back?'

'I promise?' she tried.

Draco gave her a look. 'What good is the promise of a Hufflepuff?'

'Hufflepuffs are honest!'

'I just spent two weeks sharing a room with Smith,' he pointed out. 'The bloke has perfected the art of lying through his teeth.'

She huffed. 'Well, what would assure you, Mr Malfoy?'

He thought about it. 'Well...' He smirked and lowered his voice. 'How about a kiss?'

'Eugh,' said Potter, across from them. Draco kicked his leg hard under the table.

Susan coloured, pursing her lips while she thought about it. Draco did not ease the hold he had on her waist, trusting her bladder to win out over her propriety.

'Incorrigible,' she muttered, which he took as a victory. She didn't pull away immediately when he kissed her, which only encouraged him, and when he pushed his tongue into her mouth she shrieked and pulled away, giggling and blushing in a way that was, as far as his teenage manhood was concerned, extremely appealing.

Potter at least had the decency to wait until she was out of earshot before sneering, 'I thought you had a girlfriend, Malfoy.'

Draco looked round at him; Theodore's arm was slung casually over Potter's shoulder, eyes closed and—now that the majority of the table had scampered off—had his nose buried none-to-casually in the hair behind Potter's ear. 'Pot calling the cauldron black, aren't you?'

What he could see of Theodore's mouth snaked into a sneaky grin, and he whispered something to Potter, who turned so they were nose-to-nose and grinned in return, effectively ignoring Draco.

It was infuriating, really, because Draco couldn't take the mickey out of Potter without stepping on Theodore's toes—something he had learned not to do as early as his second year unless he wanted a bloody nose. Still, it didn't make any sense. Theodore had never expressed interest in anyone at school, so the possibility that he flew on the other side of the pitch was not something Draco found all that hard to believe. But Potter? Aside from Chang and Weasley, he'd never shown interest in anyone else, so not only was his orientation obvious but he certainly didn't come off as the promiscuous type.

Then again, the scrawny tyke in specs he'd met in first year didn't seem like the type able to battle a dragon, score the nearest to perfect record of Snitch-captures in the history of Hogwarts, much less survive multiple confrontations with the deadliest wizard ever to walk the planet, but there it was. Maybe with the past year's events Potter finally began to realise how likely his upcoming doom was and decided to experiment; or maybe Weasley wasn't giving it up; or maybe she was willing but Potter was afraid her six brothers would chop him up into bite-sized bits and feed him to a Hungarian Horntail if he took advantage of it.

Or maybe Theodore had put him under a spell. It wasn't as if that was something he could completely rule out.

Perhaps it was also infuriating because, even if he had been molesting any one of the other blokes crammed in Headquarters with them, that Potter didn't seem to give a damn if Draco knew about it or not. Draco liked to think he'd used enough information on Potter—and even made some up—to spread along the school grapevine and make his life miserable that Potter would know better than to expose his experimental trysts.

Of course, there was also the possibility that it was well past the experimental phases—but in the interest of preserving the fragile state of his own mental health, Draco derailed that train of thought before it could go anywhere.

Theodore was doing something vile and open-mouthed with a combination of teeth, tongue and lips against the junction of Potter's jaw and earlobe. Draco actually caught himself staring when Potter made a violent jerk and Theodore pulled his mouth away, and the reason why was clear a moment later: Dean slammed another pitcher on the table just as Susan returned, her hair (which had been just done up in the usual plait) hanging freely around her shoulders. It was wavy from the braid and longer than Pansy's, but just as black against her pale skin, making the faint pink blush in her cheeks stand out.

Dean seemed to have noticed, too, because instead of sitting down, he placed himself strategically between her and the booth where Draco sat waiting. He murmured something Draco could not hear and, a moment later, Susan said, 'Oh, no,' and started laughing as he led her away.

Draco blinked. Zacharias, who had been waiting to get back into the booth, raised his eyebrows. 'I think you've just been jacked, mate.'

Draco was too blinded by indignation to even bother correcting him ('I am not your "mate", mate.'); his lips formed themselves into a snarl and he stormed out of the booth. It was one thing to be outdone by Potter in Quidditch, or Granger in test scores—but he'd be damned if some scrub-of-a-student-Mudblood was going to beat him in this department.

Dean, thankfully, seemed to be unaware that he was being stalked. Not five minutes after Draco had followed him he made a break for the loo, in which Draco took the opportunity to slip his hands around Susan's waist from behind and whisper in her ear, 'You should wear your hair down more often, Bones.'

She turned her head to the side, so he could see her profile. She was smiling and did not look all that surprised to see him. 'Oh? You like it?'

'Mm,' he said, planting a kiss at the back of her head; her hair smelled of some citric, sharp substance, like a freshly opened bottle of sparkling cider; combined with three glasses of beer, inhaling it made him light-headed all over again. He pulled her up against him, delighting in how she went without resistance. She was extremely soft and warm.

A thought suddenly occurred to him—it was quite warm in the bar, as it were, but if they were somewhere colder it would give him more of an excuse to keep her close. 'Hey,' he suggested innocently, 'it's running a bit low on air in here, don't you think?'

'Oh, is that so,' she replied coolly. 'Are you sure it's not just your brain running low on air?'

'I'm a chronic claustrophobic,' he pleaded. 'It's not my fault.'

'I see.' She clasped her hands over his, which were still on her hips. 'All right, let's go outside.'

: : :

Even mid-August, it was still chilly outside at midnight. Susan had left her coat inside and rubbed her shoulders; Draco pulled off the coat he'd borrowed from Tonks' wardrobe and offered it to her.

'Thanks,' she said, and he vaguely noted that had it been Pansy, she would have told him to keep it. 'Wow, it's later than I thought. We should probably head back soon.'

The reasonable part of Draco agreed—Snape would notice the sudden quiet in the house, if he hadn't already. Yet the teenage boy part of him thought a combination of dark and late and alone with a pretty girl were worth risking the wrath of various adult figures, even ones as scary as Snape. He would probably think differently later, but Draco had a bad habit of not thinking ahead.

The cold outside had chased most of the Muggles inside or home, leaving them alone out the front with a single lamppost. After she wriggled into the coat he took her by the shoulders and turned her around. Surprisingly, he didn't even have to instigate this time—the moment she was facing him she tilted her face up, running her hands up over his shoulders and meeting his lips as he tilted his head down, smiling into her mouth.

It lasted a whole blissful thirty seconds.

'Ahaha—no, really, she was—whoa, hello,' Terry said, straightening as he almost ran into them.

Stumbling out the door behind him came Luna, looking very lost and ridiculously happy about it. She stared at the two of them as Susan hid her face in his chest. 'Don't you have a girlfriend?'

Susan pulled away with a start and wiped her mouth quickly. She wouldn't look at him; Draco, glaring, snapped, 'I don't see how you would know, not having any friends of your own.'

'Oi,' said a voice from the door behind them. Dean had come out behind them. 'Is Harry out here?'

Zacharias came after him, holding Susan's jacket. He handed it to her and she thanked him, returning Draco's without looking at him. 'Weren't he and Nott inside?'

Zacharias shrugged. 'I went to the loo and came back to find you lot all gone,' he said.

'Bloody hell,' Dean muttered. 'It's always him, isn't it? Come on,' he said to Zacharias, 'help me check the bar again.'

Draco had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, for he had a very good idea where the pair of them had gotten off to. Without Susan's attention it was suddenly very cold outside and his warm bed at Headquarters was suddenly a tempting thought. 'Stay with the car,' Draco told Terry, 'in case that idiot comes looking for us.' Terry nodded. Susan was talking in a low voice to Luna, who appeared to be listening intently; Draco scowled and stalked away, cutting the corner and entered the thin alleyway between the bar and the building next door.

He'd been walking down it for not even a minute before he saw them, and mentally cursed himself for being right.

It took a moment to figure out that what he saw was not quite what he had expected. It was Potter and Theodore, for sure, and they were together—in more ways than he wanted to think about—but instead of facing each other, Potter was leaning heavily on the wall with his forearm, resting his forehead in the crook of his elbow and hiding his eyes from view. Theodore was quite literally at his back, hands tethered to his hips and teeth at his shoulder, scraping down his shoulder blade over the thin fabric of Potter's t-shirt. Potter's mouth, visible just below his elbow, was parted and breathing hard.

Before any words managed to leave his mouth, they all froze: all at the same time, they felt the cold.

Every light in the alley and the street lamp behind them went out. A bone-chilling wind ripped through the alley, stealing the breath right out of his lungs and causing his blood to run cold. A deep, irregular rattling, a sound reminiscent of a shuddering chain, echoed from the invisible darkness of the alleyway, scratching the brick walls of the pub like sharp nails on a blackboard.

Potter, of course, reacted first; he shoved away from the wall and Theodore stumbled backwards, and all Draco could remember was a high-pitched buzzing in his ears, and the image of a golden ring spinning to a dull, thudding stop on a bare floor—he clutched at his head and his knees hit the hard, wet concrete and someone was screaming—he was screaming, Potter was shouting, and Theodore made a deep, guttural sound that reverberated off the walls of the alley and the inside of Draco's skull as they came into view.

There were two of them, gliding out of the darkness of the alleyway, slimy hands outstretched. Potter wheeled and withdrew his wand in one movement, and even though the roaring in Draco's head was too loud for him to hear the incantation, he saw Potter's lips move, and the burst of silver from the tip of his wand. There was more silver, coming from behind them, shapes Draco didn't recognise—two other Patronuses, minute in comparison to Potter's stag, but just as powerful—the Dementors shrieked and collapsed backwards into the darkness.

Draco gave an unsteady lurch and retched, spitting every ounce of alcohol he'd consumed over the cold, cracked stone of the pavement.

He distantly heard Theodore's voice, ragged and aggressive. 'I'm fine—get off, Potter.'

Draco coughed, one hand holding him up and the other clutching his stomach. Someone grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and dragged him upwards; he pulled away but Potter was stronger, wrenching him to his feet despite the nausea.

'Get up, Malfoy. We need to leave. Now.'

Draco stumbled upwards and the lights came back on, temporarily blinding him. Potter made sure he wasn't going to fall over before helping Theodore to his feet, despite the protesting—Draco blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light again, and saw Potter staring at Theodore, looking whiter than he had in the face of the Dementors.

Draco looked at Theodore and felt the cold grip his stomach again; Theodore's dark brown eyes had gone a bright, metallic gold, pupils heavily dilated and he appeared unable to focus on anything. It was the same distant sort of hunger they had seen in textbook pictures in Defence Against the Dark Arts—the eyes of a wolf.

Draco sobered up so quickly he nearly retched again. 'Now,' he agreed thickly.

: : :
- 14
- 15
- 16
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Heart of the Matter