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Fate	By : silverdragon4736 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4778 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor any of the character from the books or movies, I don't make any money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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CHAPTER TWO

Harry would like to clobber him.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and the only person who defeated Voldemort, lay surprisingly still as the little ferret tried to bind his hands together. He was, as all wizards and witches would say, the most powerful man in all of the Wizarding World, yet he lay there and willingly played captive, eyes closed, his breathing deceptively even… except for the moment Malfoy had nearly halved him with the rope. Malfoy must have pulled it a few notches too tight.

The Slytherin Prince was stronger than he had expected. Probably because he never expected much from someone who was once turned into a ferret. He recalled the pointed git he had fought with those years in Hogwarts.

'Hair gelled tightly over his head that made it look like a helmet and…' Harry's thought trailed off when he realized it's been years since he'd last seen Malfoy and it dawned on him that he couldn't quite remember what he'd actually look like.

With a mental shrug he thought that Malfoy couldn't be any different from a ferret anyway. Probably still have that blindingly greasy hair stuck to his head, a dwarf-like body stature because he knew that he was bigger than him, especially because it was enough to warrant Goyle the need to be worried, a face half gremlin and half ferret that went with that mouth of his, a crooked pointed nose like those of a rodent, and small sneaky beady little eyes, black to match his humor.

Harry didn't know what possessed him to pretend to be out cold. He blamed it on his curiosity, momentary lapse of judgment and a bit of foolishness.

"There," Malfoy said brightly, as though he had just tied his shoelace instead of binding the hands of the man who held his very precarious future in them. Harry heard Malfoy brush his own hands together with a couple of cocky slaps. He stood next to him and shouted, "Put the branch down, Goyle, and help me turn the oaf."

Harry's jaw tightened. Oh, did he want to teach that little ferret a fine lesson about whom to call an oaf.

A pair of small hands and another pair of broad ones gripped him.

The broader one hesitated for a second before holding him by his left shoulder. Goyle.

The other pair, the small hands, pinched viciously into his left hip. Malfoy, the little ferret git, whose future was looking dim.

With a few grunts and gasps from, as Harry noted gladly, Malfoy, they rolled him over and onto his back, where he rocked slightly on top of his bound hands. He listened for their next move and thought about when he should make his.

"Draco!" a male voice shouted from behind them; then there was a sound of running feet thrashing through the nearby bracken.

The trashing ceased with a loud thud!

Twigs, mud and damp leaves splattered the side of Harry's face. He didn't flinch, but he could feel a wet leaf slowly slide down his cheek and stop in his ear.

The newcomer scrambled to his feet, sending more mud this way and that. "They're coming. Draco! Aurors just arrived! They're almost here!"

"I've captured Potter, Blaise." The ferret placed a small foot atop his belly and pressed hard enough to make him grunt.

Harry could feel him look.

He kept his breath even and shallow—something that wasn't easy with that little foot jabbing into his gut.

He could feel them staring at him. He wondered what they would do if he just leapt up. If his hands hadn't been bound, he would've done it, too.

Malfoy took his foot off of his belly. "There is no time to stand here and gawk at him. Where's Pansy?"

"Watching the aurors hidden where you told her to be." Zabini answered.

"Quickly, then! Drag this stupid oaf into the bushes and hide him well."

"The bushes?"

"Of course. You'll have to use the really big bushes over there to hide him properly though."

"What about his feet? They're free." Zabini took a step closer to Harry.

There was a long moment of silence.

"Tie his boots together with those laces," Malfoy said. "Tie them in knots."

Harry mentally swore. Malfoy was a clever little ferret.

"Wait, Draco!" Zabini said. "Are you sure we should keep Potter with us? We might get on his bad side if he suddenly woke up and realize that we've bound and dragged him."

"I don't really give a bloody arse whether we're on Potter's good side or bad. Besides, I've worked it all out, Blaise. Don't worry about it."

"This is one of your brilliant plots again, isn't it? Ever think that when Potter wakes up he could take us all in one go?" Zabini said pointedly. "He did defeat You-Know-Who, Draco."

"Blaise, we don't have time for this!" Malfoy hissed impatiently. "Besides, he could do no harm to us. His hands are bound. I've also got his wand with me. You could hold it if you want to be sure he doesn't get it back."

Harry heard Malfoy rifling through his robes and tossing something.

Harry's wand.

"There! Now that I've entertained your paranoia, could you hide yourselves and stay in that positions?" Malfoy retorted bitingly. "So that we could actually steal some of those aurors' galleons and whatever goods they've got in those carriages before they spot us."

"Fine."

A moment later, with his robe dragging and bunching beneath him they hauled him through the sharp bracken while Harry began to covertly work his wrists free. Harry needed them free so he could wring Malfoy's scrawny neck.

They stopped after dragging him over a sharp rock, and then dropped him into a thicket of bushes.

He lay there listening to their muted voices, to Malfoy shushing others, and the sounds of them shinnying up in the nearby trees.

Then there was nothing but nature's silence, the same deceptive silence he'd blindly walked into earlier.

He knew that Ron would be looking for him when he still didn't return from his stroll in the forest after an hour. Fortunately, the rope was loosening so that he'd never have to face the humiliation of Ron looking for him after being captured by Malfoy and his inept followers.

Soon, Malfoy would care very much about his good side and bad side.

The voices and the creak of carriages came from the road. He turned over using their noise to camouflage any sound his movement might have made. He opened his eyes for the first time.

Through the bushes he could see a couple of silhouettes drunkenly lumbering up the grade. Harry could see that they weren't really aurors, rather just some old guards for hire to deliver artifacts that were probably too illegal, valuable or dangerous to floo, apparate or use a portkey with. 'And apparently also to use flying as a mode of transportation' Harry thought as he noted that the thestrals' clipped wings pulling the stagecoaches.

They tossed a bottle of what looked like firewhisky between them, drinking, laughing and jesting as they walked right into a trap.

As they staggered edged past, Harry looked up at the nearest tree. Sunlight caught a glint of metal—a dagger pulled.

The dagger moved. The branches shifted.

A moment later, a battle cry that sounded like the howl of a banshee shrieked from that tree.

A flash of blond hair and robes flew through the air.

Past the first carriage…

Past the second carriage…

Past anything remotely near his target.

Malfoy landed, granted with grace, right into a mud hole.

Harry bit back a bark of laughter.

Malfoy lay sprawled there for no more than a blink, then scampered up, covered in mud from head to toe.

The little ferret launched himself at the nearest driver. Somehow, he managed to get his dagger poised at the man's throat.

Zabini and Parkinson began to fall from the trees on top of the other guards.

Fall, not jump.

Then, there was a loud thud and a curse.

"Goyle?" Malfoy called out.

"Yeah?"

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah." Goyle paused for a long telling moment then said, "I missed."

'So did Malfoy', Harry thought amazed that they had managed to capture these guards at all no matter how inebriated they might be. But they had. The old guards looked stunned as they wobbled in their sits so drunk they looked about to keel over.

A truly awful screechlike, hellish bellow rent the air; it sounded like a dying creature.

Harry winced, shook his head slightly to get his ears to stop ringing, and then turned towards the racket.

Standing beside the first stagecoach was, assuming Malfoy only had one female in his band of thieves, Parkinson the reed of what looked like a bagpipe between her lips and her cheeks puffed and red.

She blew once more on the thing again.

The blare rang clear through his teeth right down to the very bones in Harry's toes. His jaw fell open in surprise and pain.

The mud covered Malfoy flinched, his shoulders hunching almost to his ears, while the guards pounded the heels of their hands against one their own ears.

Parkinson started to blow once more on that bloody thing again. It was such an awful sound Harry almost leapt up and bolted from the bushes to stop her himself.

But Malfoy reached out with his free hand and grabbed it, pulling it away from the girl's mouth before he shouted, "Parkinson!"

Parkinson looked up.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?!"

"I was doing our battle cry."

"Why?"

"Well, I thought it would lift our spirits up. You know, give us more confidence in pursuing these dastardly aurors and taking what's rightfully ours." Parkinson answered cheerfully.

"Blaise?" The ferret spoke through clenched teeth and he gave Zabini a sharp look.

Zabini looked at Malfoy with a mixture of fear and weariness.

"I thought those pipes were… lost." The mud-faced ferret said pointedly.

"Oh. I found them this morning," Parkinson said brightly. "Before we left actually. You'll never guess where I've found them, Draco."

"Probably not." Malfoy had trouble keeping the sarcasm from his voice. "Where was it?"

"I found them deep into those caves in the woods, beneath a pile of leaves that was under stacks of wood fit in between huge boulders of rocks that was covered in branches and twigs which were near that swamp I'm a bit afraid at." Parkinson paused, and then added in a puzzled tone, "I don't even know how on earth they got there."

Malfoy turned and mumbled something like, "I don't bloody know how you found them."

"Did you say something, Draco?"

"No," Malfoy lied. "Put the pipes down now, take the aurors' wands and break them except for one. We'll need that to obliviate these aurors. Go look around in case there are other aurors around."

Harry saw Parkinson as she left to go a bit further out.

"Blaise! I thought I told you to get rid of those things." Malfoy hissed at Zabini pointing at the pipes.

"I did. Didn't you hear where she found it? I swear she's tracking those things down somehow. I've been trying to get rid of it for months now."

"You shouldn't have given it to her in the first place."

"Well, it was the only thing I could steal from that old muggle's house at the time. And I haven't given her a present yet. Besides, she did say she knew how it worked. I didn't even know what it was."

"We're all paying for that mistake, aren't we? I swear I've already gone deaf from hearing that bloody thing everyday. Never mind. Let's all hope that Goyle can hide it better."

Before Zabini could utter a reply, Malfoy called Goyle out.

"Goyle, come here and hide the pipes first chance you get. Make sure that you hide it well." Malfoy pointedly looked at Zabini then said, "Better than Blaise's obvious hiding place."

Harry watched Goyle grab the pipes and run looking for a hiding spot way, way, way far off.

Harry glanced toward the third carriage, which was farther back than the first two. Harry wiggled his hands more and felt them finally slip from the rope.

He shook his head. Never had he seen a more inept band of thieves. Had the drivers been anything else but drunken old men, this band of Slytherin outlaws would be captives, that is, if they were very lucky and weren't dead instead.

Harry shifted his position and began to untie the wad of knots they had tied in his own shoes.

"Hold still, or I'll skin you alive and your remains will be nothing but bloody food for wild animals." Malfoy said coldly, grabbing the nearest man and placed the dagger against the man's neck.

The ferret's face was covered in brown mud that was beginning to crack. Leaves and twigs hung from his hair. All Harry could truly see were the whites of Malfoy's eyes.

"Get down from that carriage, you drunken fool!" Malfoy shouted.

The first driver wobbled drunkenly, then hiccupped twice before he climbed down.

The other driver joined him in the middle of the clearing, prodded along by Zabini with a dirk, which he kept near the man's throat.

"There's no other aurors with them." Parkinson's voice called out from somewhere.

"All right, then. Come back and wake up that driver over there!" Malfoy shouted at Parkinson.

Parkinson walked over to the third carriage and yelled at the snoring driver, "Get down!"

The driver slid out the stagecoach and staggered over to join the others.

"We've got to tie them down so they won't try anything." Zabini said.

"Pansy bind them, obliviate them, then knock them unconcious. We can't have anyone, especially the ministry, knowing our whereabouts."

Parkinson did as she was told.

Goyle came running back bagpipe, fortunately, not in hand. He skidded to a stop in front of the ferret. "I've done it! I hid Pa—"

Malfoy covered Goyle's mouth with both hands before he could utter another word. He glanced at Parkinson, sighing in relief when she didn't give any indication she heard Goyle.

"Shh. Quiet. We don't want Pansy knowing what we're up to." Malfoy whispered.

"Sorry."

"Hey, guys. Have any of you seen my pipes?" Parkinson asked as she stood, tasks done, wand in hand.

All three Slytherins froze suddenly.

"NO!" Goyle shouted defensively.

Malfoy rolled his eyes at Goyle's obvious lack of tact. "No, we haven't, Pansy." He reached for the wand and broke it in half

Pansy frowned. "Why'd you do that? I could've used the wand to summon my pipe before you destroyed it."

"We can't take the chance of the aurors using it. Besides, your pipe couldn't have gone anywhere far. You've probably dropped it somewhere over there."

Pansy seem to accept the explanation and began to look for those pipes everywhere.

All three sighed in relief.

Zabini just shook his head and said sarcastically, "Could you be any more obvious, Goyle?"

Goyle frowned, but before he could utter a reply Malfoy retorted, "Don't be such an arse, Blaise. It's a good thing I broke that wand before she could use it. I hope to Merlin she doesn't find those again." Then, he raised his voice and added to Goyle's left ear, "Go look at what's in those carriages, would you?"

As Goyle trudged to the stagecoaches, Zabini snorted. "Follows everything like a good little dog, doesn't he?"

Malfoy spun around to face Zabini clearly irritated. "What is your problem?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie, Blaise. You've been complaining and whining about my plots, which are amazingly brilliant as always. You're not following everything I say. You've been acting like there's something stuck up your arse all bloody week. E—" Malfoy stopped suddenly as a revelation dawned on him.

Then, a wicked gleam seem to spread across Malfoy's face. "Ever since, you and Pansy got into that fight. That doesn't have anything do with your foul mood, does it? Because you should know, it is your fault."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, denying it won't help."

"I'm not denying anything."

"So, you admit that you do like her? And now you're in a right foul mood because she's angry at you, aren't you?"

Zabini face paled, then he retorted desperately, "Of course not. Don't be such a girl, Draco."

Malfoy's face scrunched up in a scowl and Harry could swear there was steam coming out of his ears. "I'm not a girl!"

Harry knew that the topic before has been forgotten and Zabini has the upper hand in this argument. "Oh, come now, Draco. Surely, you must admit that those muggles' assertions weren't confounded. You are—how do those muggles say it?— too pretty to be a boy."

"I AM NOT PRETTY!" Malfoy shouted, which simply amused Zabini even more.

Harry believed Malfoy's sentiment. Malfoy was not pretty. Harry vaguely wondered if all the muggles they met were blind.

Parkinson and Goyle seemed to come back from wherever they came from and joined in Malfoy and Zabini's argument.

Mud flew in clods from Malfoy's face as the argument grew vigorously and he used gestures as much as words. Harry noted that he looked like a leper, mud clinging to his skin in spots. He thought that this suited ferret face just fine.

Harry sat there, watching another one of their trout brained conversations go on and on.

When he glanced at the ferret, Pansy was handing him a container of water. Malfoy's back was to Harry as he washed the mud from his face. It seems that their conversation has ended for the time being.

Harry smiled without humor, prepared to face the ugly mud ferret, Slytherin Ice Prince and all around prat.

Malfoy tossed the container and turned around.

Harry felt the smile fade from his face. He just sat there, frozen in that bush, not moving, not breathing.

"Bloody Hell…" he muttered. For the mere glimpse of a face that lovely, would make anyone bargain with the devil himself.

Now, he knew what Zabini meant when he said Malfoy mistaken for a girl wasn't confounded. He did look like one. Harry suddenly felt frustrated that he never noticed this fact.

Malfoy's skin was the color of snow, the kind that looked soft enough to make a man crave its touch, crave its taste, crave the feel of it against his own.

His features were proof of perfection—a heart shaped face, fine high cheekbones with the barest hint of a blush, full pink lips that turned his thoughts carnal, and eyes that slanted slightly upward, misty exotic steely silver eyes that fired lust in a man.

Harry rested his hands on bent knees and took a deep breath, then just continued to stare at him, unable to will himself to look away. He was the most exquisitely perfect being he had ever seen.

"Pansy! Blaise! Goyle!" Malfoy hollered. "We need to check on the oaf and leave!"

Except… for his mouth.

Harry pulled out a broach that was given by Hermione a few years back. He twisted his hands on the rope so it looked like they were tightly bound. He lay down eyes closed, his breathing slow and shallow, the broach clutched in his fist.

The bushes about Harry rustled. There was a moment of telling silence when he could feel Malfoy looking at him.

"He's still unconscious!" Malfoy shouted.

Harry heard footsteps coming closer.

"We'll lug him in the carriage." Malfoy said somewhere above Harry's head. "Come on, help me lift him."

Soon he felt four pairs of hands try to lift him. As they went past the bushes, Harry dropped the broach his been holding, a sign for Ron to find him.

As they reached the carriage, Malfoy had climbed inside and tugged Harry's shoulder, while the others tried to heave him up.

Harry fell on top of Malfoy and noticed that Malfoy smelled different from what he expected. He smelled intoxicating.

Harry's face was cradled against the soft skin of Malfoy's neck, while his body was practically covering Malfoy's.

Harry moaned and turned so his mouth rested against the nape of Malfoy's neck. Then, he groaned loudly against it, trying not to laugh when Malfoy gasped and tried to scoot away.

There was a telling moment of silence. Harry could feel Malfoy's face just inches from him, searching for a sign he was awake. Harry could feel the warmth of his breath when Malfoy finally breathed. Then, he moved away.

"Potter's waking up. Don't just stand around! Blaise! You take the first carriage. Goyle! Pansy!" Malfoy said. "You'll steer this carriage, while I guard the oaf."

Harry heard them move as Malfoy ordered them about.

Soon the wagons were lumbering as Harry lay with a ghost of a smile.

As Harry felt Malfoy settle beside him, he thought of that face, Malfoy's face. Perhaps he didn't want Ron to find him so soon, after all.

TBC…
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