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The Attraction in Opposition	By : freakenbree Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6177 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and company. I am not making profits from this fandom. All rights reserved to J.K.Rowling and copyrights.

Chapter List
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Author’s Note: Thanks to all my fabulous reviewers! Still working out the overall outline for this story so not really sure where it might take me. Never know, those plot bunnies do love to scurry and hump well…like bunnies.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and company. All rights are reserved and this merely a fandom in which I claim no financial stake.

Warnings for chapter: violence, sexual content of an explicit nature, language, and relations between two male characters.

The Attraction in Opposition

-Chapter Two-

Magical Counterpart

Another dream, he thought with disdain as his hand now automatically made progress on the heated arousal in his trousers. Hermione had met with him a few mornings back; her arms were filled with books of all sorts and determined to put an explanation to Harry’s current problem. However, a few charms and days later, Harry was still inflicted by his dreams of interludes with the vicious Slytherin and completely at his ends. Malfoy had proven much more difficult a fly to swat the last several days. It seemed as if the tall blond was everywhere and his eyes ever scorning Harry’s every glance.

Pushing backwards against the heat of his thoughts, his hand slowed. Feeling disgust once more for his actions, his hand completely stopped all together. Bloody Malfoy was the sole cause of all his discomfort these days. Forget Voldemort and the upcoming dance in which had been announced in the hall just this morning, Harry was beside himself with anguish over it all. Of all the boys, it had to be bloody Malfoy.

Resigning himself to think another day, Harry pulled the covers back up to his chin and settled back into sleep. He hoped to have been done with his arousal-inducing dreams for the night.

*

“What does he do in your dreams? Does he bugger you?” Harry could not help the stumble that came directly after the words had been uttered. The ever refined Hermione Granger spilling such a vulgar inquiry was absolutely astonishing, and had left Harry unable to counter immediately.

“Hermione,” he said still baffled beyond speech.

“It’s an honest question, Harry,” she said flatly. “Do you top him? Or do you let him top you?”

“Why would that matter,” Harry was finally able to say through his exasperation.

“Just curious,” she said idly. “What does it feel like? Do you get aroused? …do you masturbate afterwards?”

“’Mione!” Harry said choking on his own tongue. She smiled shyly and a slight blush tainted her cheeks.

“Sorry,” she hesitated. “I have just never really met a homosexual before and only have read a few things.”

“I don’t even really know if I am,” Harry said quietly. “Besides, wasn’t it you who told me I had no control of my dreams.”

“Yes,” she said calmly. “However, it is likely the reason considering that I have never dreamt of buggering a girl.”

“Well before him, I’d never really dreamt of shagging blokes either,” Harry said slightly defensively.

“Did any of the charms I taught you work?”

“So far it seems nothing has,” Harry resolved. “I wonder if you can die from too much wanking.”

She looked at him with distaste before shaking her head. “Of course not, but you can if you aren’t eating.”

Harry let the blush rise to his own cheeks. His appetite had not returned since the dreams had started, and he had already lost almost three kilos. Poppy was regularly chastising him to eat, but when it proved inadequate, she would simply spell food into stomach which was oddly invasive. He had done his best to keep up with his school work, but it seemed that after almost two weeks since the start of the dreams, he was already in remedial classes for his Defense against Dark Arts and Transfiguration classes. It was no surprise that he had landed twice this week in detention with Filch for his inability to concentrate in his Potion’s class. Snape had been persistently vicious with his insults of his intelligence.

“Well, I have been a bit occupied in my thoughts,” Harry mumbled and she once more shot him a look much like a mother would their disobedient child.

“No matter,” she said dismissively. “So really, what do you dream about?”

“This and that,” Harry said evasively. He was not sure he would want his proper friend to know he wanted Malfoy over him, thrusting into his body and dominating him with those powerfully built Quidditch muscles.

She watched him cautiously, “It’s okay to tell me. I will not judge you Harry.”

Letting out a small sigh, he gave her a defeated look. “He’s top and yes, I’ve pretty much dreamt every possible way he could do it. Er, it feels good I guess and usually it makes me…you know.”

A small smile appeared on her lips. Harry felt his eyes roll as she nudged his shoulder playfully.

“Who would have ever known,” she said thoughtfully. “Well I guess nothing for it. We will figure this out.”

For the first time today, he was glad that Hermione was there to listen. Being in his own head as of late was turning out to be self-destructive and it helped knowing there was someone secretly cheering him on and watching out for him.

“Let’s get to class,” she said finally and then strolled down to DADA class.

*

Harry idly listened to “Mad-Eyed Moody” as he was often referred to at the head of the class lecturing on a particular spell when used against a creature Harry had not yet read on. He glanced backwards as he heard Malfoy and his two goons speaking hushed about the man’s “disgusting” magically eye. He only half-listened to the conversation, but he could feel Malfoy’s eyes on the back of his head. It took every bit of willpower he had left not to turn and stare the boy down, demanding why he was looking. He decidedly jotted down a few notes as Hermione was in a constant state of raising her hand to answer every inane question that was brought forth to the class.

Harry audibly sighed. Vaguely though, he wondered in what circumstance would he meet Malfoy next. Wondering as well if it had been purely coincidence they had met in the tower or if there was something more was afoot.

“Bloody Potter,” he heard whispered from behind him. Harry turned on the trio, his eyes baring flames of fury. Malfoy merely looked on him with a smug expression while Crabbe and Goyle snickered to his sides. The slightly chubbier of the two sneered at him, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Aw wittle Potter looks angry,” Crabbe taunted.

“What do you want Potter?” Malfoy hissed.

“Just shut it,” Harry warned as Hermione turned to gaze at the now heated argument. She pressed a hand to Harry’s shoulder and shook it. She pressed her finger on her lips but was too late with her warning as Professor Moody made his way to them.

“Problem gentlemen?” their professor regarded him.

“None at all,” Malfoy chimed as he settled back into his chair and his two idiotic henchmen merely fiddled with thumbs.

“Interrupt my class again and there will be,” Moody said with a final look before heading to the front of the class to continue the lecture.

“This is your fault, Potter.”

Harry once again turned on the snarky blond and aimed what he hoped to be an intimidating glare. The Slytherin merely smirked and once more regarded him impassively.

“Watch it Malfoy,” Harry said as low as he could. “Or I’ll throw you straight into the forbidden forest and let you fend for yourself.”

Malfoy sneered, but his face visibly paled. However, it did not last long as both their names were called out from the head of the class.

“Mister Malfoy and Mister Potter, detention,” was all they heard. Sighing, Harry turned back on his enraged professor who concluded the lecture a half-hour later and set their detention time for that evening immediately following their dinner.

*

When he had finally made his way to the classroom in which was to hold their detention, Malfoy was already waiting outside the door. His back was pressed against the wall and his arms drawn tightly to his chest. The look he received was one of contemplation before it drew back into the usual sneer. Harry walked past Malfoy, but his arm was roughly jerked and he lost his footing as a result.

Surprisingly however, he did not make it to the ground. Instead, arms clasped around him saving him from the hard floor below and confusion soon followed his surprise. Before he had the chance to interrogate Malfoy, however, Filch arrived and demanded they go inside to clean flasks and cauldrons that the first years had tarnished. It was a quite the endeavor as the sounds of metal being scrubbed and the clinking of glasses as they manually were cleaned filtered through the silence. Two hours—two excruciatingly painful hours of both working his arms until they threatened to fall off and disown him and his growing arousal every small glance he got at the fair-haired Slytherin.

Soon, Filch was barking for them to return to their respective towers, though it was not soon enough for Harry as he quickly rushed from the room at steady pace towards Gryffindor tower. He heard the other’s footsteps echo from behind him, and he quickened his steps.

“Potter,” the voice behind him startled him forwards. Harry breathed out and turned on the taller boy, his eyes regarding him with annoyance.

“What Malfoy? Determined today to follow me like a puppy?”

Malfoy walked to stand mere inches from him causing Harry to tilt his head back a bit to look at the other’s eyes, but still defiantly.

“You would like that would you not? Seems you have developed quite the crush, Potter,” Malfoy said with a smirk, his eyes flashing with amusement. Harry felt the lump in his throat grow, and his façade fail him momentarily before he regained his composure.

“Not likely,” Harry said dismissively. “I have much better taste.”

“To be sure,” Malfoy drawled but stepped closer causing Harry to shift backwards; he his best to hold his ground however.

Malfoy leaned forward, his mouth a breath away, and he whispered in a low, sensual voice that Harry often heard in his dreams. “You have been staring a little too often, Potter. Did you think me daft and oblivious to your dreamy-eyed glances?”

Harry wanted to retort, offer some sort of derision of the accusation or insult the other further, but his heart was pounding and his breathing was labored against the closeness. His eyes fluttered shut as the Slytherin continued their intimate chat.

“What would you do, I wonder, if I were to take you into an empty classroom and shag you senseless?”

Harry let out a slight gasp as Malfoy leaned in ghosting over his ear with the brush of lips. “Who knew the boy-who-lived wanted to be dominated by the son of a Death Eater?”

Harry finally found himself through the haze of arousal and pushed the other away. “Get away from me Malfoy.”

Malfoy regarded him once more before he continued having not been put off by the shove. “What sort of dreams have you been having lately?”

Harry’s eyes widened and his words failed him as the slow smile made its way to Malfoy’s lips.

“Anything of a sexual nature, Potter?”

“How,” Harry started but shut his mouth as anger bubbled in his belly. “What did you do Malfoy?!”

“Nothing that was not bound to happen anyway,” Malfoy said cryptically causing Harry’s temper to continue to mount his senses and shake his body underneath the power of it. Harry drew his wand and aimed it irately at Malfoy, his breathing heavy and erratic.

“Tell me what you did or so help me Malfoy, I will use an Unforgivable on you even if it sends me to Azkaban!”

Malfoy did not waiver underneath the glaring threat, and merely shrugged his shoulders. “I doubt you would be able to being the self-proclaimed savior of the wizarding world.”

“Don’t test me,” Harry warned as he took a step forward, his wand aimed at the boy’s throat. “What did you do?”

“Put your wand away Potter and then I will tell you,” Malfoy hissed. Harry held out his wand though it was shaking in his rage for a moment before he withdrew it.

“It was an experimental potion,” Malfoy began coolly.

“What do you mean by experimental?” Harry all but bit out the words. His chest heaved against the anger he felt and each word did nothing to ease it. He knew that he had been drugged. There would be no way he would want Malfoy like that otherwise. It was both enraging and comforting to know. A slight relief washed over him as he finally understood that he might not be a puff.

“It’s a potion indicating a magical counterpart of sorts which more often than not leads to a physical relationship,” Malfoy said with a sneer. “Never in my wildest dreams would I think the boy-who-lived would be match. I had taken it to test whether or not anyone I knew was my intended, though it mattered little. However once I found it to be you, I was rather curious. So in order to determine if it was true, I spiked your drink with it a few weeks ago.”

Harry was once more baffled and shook his head vehemently, “Then it could be wrong! You could have made something that doesn’t work and is doing something entirely different.”

Getting past the idea that not only had Malfoy created a potion in which to identify a magical counterpart, but had proceeded to spike his drink in order to conclude the truth. It was absolute rubbish! There was no way this was at all true and thus, Harry refused to accept that the potion had in fact been a success.

“That is what I am determined to find out, Potter,” Malfoy spat incredulously. “I do not for one moment believe this tripe either, but if you are my magical counterpart, do you understand what this means?”

Harry gave him a gaze that almost feigned indifference, but his curiosity peaked at the mention.

“Sooner or later, our magic will seek each other out,” Malfoy said distastefully. “If we ignore it, it could lead to madness.”

“You’re bloody mad,” Harry barked. “This is bloody rubbish, Malfoy.”

“Do you think for one moment I want to be at all connected with a weakling like you?” Malfoy hissed. “Bloody unlikely, Potter.”

“Then why bother,” Harry said turning away and walking forwards, but his arm was roughly grabbed and stopped him mid-step.

“You have no idea what a magical counterpart entails, Potter.”

“Nor will I,” Harry said yanking his hand from the strong hold. “I don’t give a bloody damn what it is.”

“Potter,” Malfoy hissed but Harry was already heading back towards the tower. He refused to listen to anymore of the blonde’s rubbish. The potion was made incorrectly, he was sure. He said that it was experimental so why was he so sure that the results were true. Shrugging off the conversation, Harry made his way to the dorm, hoping that he could find some way out of these symptoms. He would have to talk to Hermione in the morning.

*

“Oh dear,” Hermione exclaimed after Harry had revised the conversation he had with Malfoy the previous night. “Are you sure he said ‘magical counterparts’?”

“Yeah,” Harry said nodding and doing a quick look about. “He said he made the potion and tried it on himself first though.”

Ron had gone off earlier in the conversation as he claimed that Seamus had challenged him to another game of wizard’s chest which he was glad to accept in light of yet another argument between him and Hermione.

“Harry,” she started but stopped her mouth tightly closing.

“What is it Hermione?” Harry felt his chest tighten at her hesitation. She hardly ever was without the ability to speak so he knew that the meaning behind ‘magical counterparts’ was grave—at least where he and Malfoy were concerned.

“I will get the appropriate reading, but Harry, you must understand, this type of connection is one in which is inevitable,” she said pressing a hand to his shoulder.

“We don’t know if the potion even worked,” Harry said his voice faint.

“We must prepare in case it did,” she said reassuringly. “Look, I know this is not ideal and I promise to explain more once I have the appropriate information, but inevitably it can benefit you in so many ways.”

“I doubt that seriously,” Harry said softly and her hand tightened briefly before she drew away.

“Meet me at the library in two hours,” she said before walking off with a farewell smile.

*

When Harry found Hermione at the designated two hours later, she was reading hastily through a rather large textbook. She looked at Harry and gestured him over. Sitting opposite her, she pushed the book to him that was labeled ‘Magical Counterparts and Bonds’. She pointed to a paragraph of text labeled, ‘Magical Counterparts.’

Magical Counterparts—are persons in which match in magical signature and are compatible both in magic and body. Magical counterparts are categorized as an unbreakable connection between magic in which often results in the successful use of duel magic. Once magical counterparts are both matured in their magic, the magic will combined and seek to ultimately bond in several different forms, most often physically. There are several subcategories of magical counterparts:

                Familiars—these magical counterparts are usually in part blood related and often do not result into a physical relationship. While this is less common, they have been recorded to often be related through a paternal family line. When their magic mixes due to bond, often a complimentary mix of powers and attributes is the result.

                Equals—these magical counterparts are usually like in magical property and increase their skill base when their magic mixes during the process of bonding. Both persons increase their abilities instead of gaining new magical attributes. These are the most commonly occurring magical counterparts.

                Oppositions—these magical counterparts are unlike except in magical signature resulting in a dominant and submissive counterpart. Their magic increases the greatest as their attributes and skills are equally given thus gaining all of their counterparts’ abilities. This relationship more often results in a physical relationship due the strength of the magical bond. These magical counterparts are the least common, however, due to the power in which the bond creates.

Harry stared at the passage, reading it several times before gazing up at Hermione who was watching him. She smiled and then let out a deep breath. “If I am correct, it is my belief that if true, you and Malfoy would be Oppositions. However, I myself am still vague about this type of magical coupling.”

Harry merely stared at her, “What does it all mean?”

“It’s a form of connection,” she said slowly. “Your magic seeks out that in which can strengthen it thus a connection is made. Once there is a connection, more often than not, a bond results. You have to understand, Harry, these are not as common as they might seem. It’s a likeness to a soul mate and very often is never found. While I am no fan of Malfoy, if he is your magical counterpart, it’s not something I would suggest passing up. I would speak to the Headmaster, though. These bonds can be tricky and have serious repercussions if not followed diligently.”

“What do you mean repercussions?”

“Meaning that once you two have bonded, there is a physical side to the bond that must be met,” she said softly. “If I am right in my assumption, the bond would require a constant replenishment in the form of physical connection.”

“…you mean sex,” Harry said coughing but kept his voice low.

“Not entirely,” Hermione said smoothly. “It would depend on what amount of replenishment the bond would call for such as a mere skin to skin contact or the latter.”

“The latter meaning sex,” Harry said defeated.

“Well yes,” she said slightly defeated herself. “It’s a slight wonder why Malfoy would seek you out if he was fully aware of what this meant.”

“Dunno,” Harry said honestly. “He may just be power hungry.”

She nodded her head in agreement. Malfoys were ambitious when it came to being the best, but it was slightly interesting and curious that Malfoy would enter into a bond knowing what it would mean. If he hated Harry much like he claimed, then the idea should be downright revolting.

“He’s the son of a bloody Death Eater, ‘Mione! If I even went through with it, I’d be asking you-know-who to kill me,” Harry said exasperated.

“The bond would not allow it,” she said smiling. “If anything, you would be saving him from such a fate. When bonded, it would not allow you two to put each other knowingly into danger including being around certain dark wizards bent on killing you.”

“Still,” Harry resolved mumbling. “He’s still an arrogant prat.”

“No argument there,” she said laughing. “If it were me, I would not be in the most pleasant moods either.”

“Merlin, fate hates me,” Harry said melodramatically.

“It will work out,” she said once more trying to reassure him. Nothing could though. Of everyone he could possibly have a connection with it was a man—a Malfoy no less! Fate was truly cruel. Suddenly remembering his dreams, it begged the question.

“So that potion,” Harry said slowly.

“No,” she said knowing what he meant to ask. “It did not create those dreams, merely brought about your awareness of your connection.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry huffed and buried his face into his hands.

To be continued…
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The Attraction in Opposition