Poppet

Authors Note: A million thanks to my beta Laurel. I'll miss her while she is away!! OH! AND, last week she threatened to count up my cliffhangers and brandish them all in my face for me to feel guilty over, but she's done one even better, she wrote a funny little oneshot about me and my stories. You can find the link on my profile, you should all check it out, it's very VERY funny!!

Chapter 4 Yule Ball

Weeks of research and nearly every book from the restricted section of the library yielded nothing in the way of ideas as to what Malfoy was up to.

At first Hermione suspected it to be the Imperius curse, but the fact that the effect was only intermittent didn’t work well with that theory. That didn’t sway her however, and she began researching spells that worked in a similar manner to the Imperius curse until all those avenues were exhausted and she was forced to give up on that line of thinking.

She distractedly fingered her necklace, a new locket that Ron had given her with a tiny note inviting her to the ball with him, and reread the passage she had just been scanning on possession, thinking perhaps that Malfoy could be using it to influence Harry’s body or decisions.

She quickly ruled it out however, since one of the parties would need to be dead, so unless Malfoy had secretly died in the war and she thought there was little possibility of that being the case, much to her dismay- that theory was just as unlikely as the last. It would make things so much easier if Malfoy were just to cease to exist.

The Yule Ball was only days away and she wanted to get this solved for Harry before Malfoy did Merlin only knew what to him in such a public environment. Given his past attacks on Harry, however he was doing it, it was clear he preferred public displays over private ones and it didn’t get much more public than the Yule Ball.

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Draco tried on his dress robes which were composed of a thick shimmering gold with brilliant crimson inset that contrasted nicely with his pale platinum hair. The inset was an intricate series of Celtic knot work that wove in and out with a silken thread that shined bright or dark depending on how the light hit it.

The similarity to the colors of the Gryffindor House was planned. He almost refused the idea outright when it came unbidden into his mind because of the sheer lack of subtlety in the gesture, but this was for Harry, and Harry responded easier to the blatant and ostentatious over subtle every time.

Draco was usually better at veiled scheming though and he hoped his flagrant show didn’t do more damage than good.

A special pocket was constructed inside the robes, which would hide his poppet well throughout the dance. He was happy to have mastered the art of the voudou enough that he could control Potter with just a thought rather than having to physically manipulate the doll. Some of the things he had done to Harry would have been impossible if he had to have physically done them to the doll, unthinkable really.

Still, he did have to keep the poppet within a certain range, he found the closer it was to his body the better, so he continued to carry it with him always. It served to benefit him in two ways actually; it kept the doll out of other peoples grubby unworthy hands while also allowing him to tap into the magic of the doll whenever the whim struck him.

His obsession with Harry had marked him deeper than he ever could have imagined and his craving for the boy drove him to do the most unlikely things. Just last week he bought the Gryffindor hero a gift that he was sure would go unappreciated, but he felt compelled to purchase it regardless.

It was a simple amulet, mostly a deep tarnished silver with a shining golden inlay of a phoenix on one side and the initials A. P. W. B. D on the reverse. Now it could have been a ridiculous acronym for some odd group such as Academy of Potions, Wands, Boggarts and Dentistry, but Draco assumed it was actually Dumbledore’s initials. The old Headmaster had the longest name of anyone Draco had ever met aside from his own great grandfather Abraxas Liam Tweed Edward Malfoy Esquire.

Draco had no idea how the amulet had come to be in that tiny antique store and he managed to practically steal it from the clerk who sold it to him for only eight sickles, clearly unaware of its origins or value. All the same he felt compelled to buy it for Harry, although he had no idea when the mood or opportunity would arise for him to turn over the piece to his potential love interest’s more than capable hands.

However, it was the fact that he had been so compelled to purchase the bauble in the first place that made him nervous. What was supposed to be controlled experiments in domination and general fun had by all was quickly turning into something more. He dreamed of Harry more often, he thought about him constantly during the day and when he wasn’t using his poppet to control the testy Gryffindor he was thinking about what he could do with the heady power.

The magic, it seemed, while working his will on Harry, managed to work its own will on him. Each new command or gesture he used the doll for made him feel closer to Harry than ever before. He was losing sight of his original plan of slow seduction and instead just trying to barrel through to his desired outcome.

Harry.

What was worse was that he continued to slip up and accidentally think of him as ‘Harry’ instead of ‘Potter’ and he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He was fairly certain he would trip up eventually and say it out loud to someone.

He did a quick turn in the mirror to examine his reflection then, once satisfied; he slipped out of the elaborate costume and padded toward his bathroom for a long soak before his eventful evening.

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Harry flew over the castle grounds on his Firebolt like a mighty and graceful hawk seeking out his pray. He swooped down and wove in and out of the trees, and dipped even lower, letting his hand skim along the surface of the mirrored lake.

He didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to come down, not now… not ever.

In the sky he felt completely free of the stress of class work, Ron’s negligence, Ginny’s persistent gaze and more importantly, Malfoy.

He didn’t understand the kind of blatant disregard for another human being it would take to do what Malfoy was doing to him but he felt like if anyone was capable of such a heartless act, it was Malfoy. It felt as though Malfoy was taking a precious piece of his soul with every new encounter and he was fairly certain he would never get them back.

Wanting to avoid the crowds of simpering teens fawning over makeup and dress robes in the common room, Harry instead chose to fly directly to his dorm window at the top of Gryffindor tower. He had it unlatched with an easy wave of his wand and was soon inside the silent warmth of his room.

With his broom put away, Harry began to disrobe, rubbing his icy flesh as he did to thaw it from the winter chill.

It was then that he spotted it.

A flat rectangular silver box lay in the center of his bed. It had an ornate gold ribbon crisscrossing its front and a small note written in delicate handwriting that simply said ‘wear me’.

Harry smiled in spite of himself at the quirky gesture and, feeling very much like Alice through the looking glass, he opened the box out of sheer curiosity.

A bark of laughter escaped his lips upon seeing the contents. Inside the filigree were dress robes, well tailored and very expensive looking. They were almost entirely green, a shade of deep emerald in one light and a darker almost forest color in another light. Upon the breast was a pattern of silver knots woven into the fabric and trailing down the length of the garment.

Harry sighed and slipped the silky robes over his already naked body, relishing in the cool fabric as it glided over his wind burnt skin. He took one look in the mirror and knew who the culprit was behind the outfit. Only a Slytherin would take pleasure in dressing the Gryffindor Golden Boy in head to toe green and silver and only one Slytherin that he knew of had it out for him directly.

Frowning, he lifted his arms and found that the fit was perfect and, though not a color he would dare pick out on his own, it made his eyes glow with an almost otherworldly brightness. He took off his glasses and laid them by the bedside and, after casting a quick vision charm that Hermione had taught him over the summer, he looked at his reflection again.

Something about the clothing felt right, and not the false right brought on by bespelled items, but the kind of right that he felt whenever he held Teddy or hugged Hermione or played Quidditch with Ron. That feeling scared him more than the potential purpose of the robes or the fact that he didn’t actually know the intentions behind the gift.

He couldn’t even begin to guess at the intention behind the robes. He had recognized Malfoy’s handwriting from the start, and even if he hadn’t, the garment exuded Malfoy in its very thread count, not to mention the silk took on his fragrance, a mixture of lilac and sage, with a hint of something tangy and puckering like lemon.

If Malfoy’s intention was to humiliate him, however, he would not give the arse the satisfaction.

He took a deep breath and stared at himself in the mirror trying to see what Malfoy saw, trying to glean some sinister reason for Malfoy to give him the robes, but he found nothing. The clothing was beautifully made, they seemed to be tailored just for him and on the surface there was nothing sinister about them.

In fact, if given to him by Hermione or even Ginny, he might not have batted an eyelash, but a gift from Malfoy took closer inspection. However, after several advanced curse locating spells Harry still could not detect anything unseemly about the garment so he decided to throw caution to the wind and wear it, just to see what happened.

When he emerged from his dorm the common room was empty, which was just as well because he would prefer to sneak into the Great Hall unnoticed.

As he made his way down the stairs to stand before the looming double doors of the hall, he took one final deep shuddering breath before pushing them open.

A large portion of the room turned to look at him as soon as he entered while others turned to look after whispers flooded the hall at his entrance. He heard his name float through the air as it fell from hundreds of lips but before he could decipher what was being said about him, Hermione and Ron were at his side.

“Harry you look outstanding. I didn’t even know you owned dress robes this extravagant,” she gushed. Hermione, who wore a sleeveless black gown with a heart shaped bust line that tailored into a neat little empire waist and flared down to the ground, ran her hands along the fabric, eyed Ron’s plain black dress robes and sighed.

“You look like a Slytherin,” Ron commented with a frown and Harry only shrugged.

“They were a gift,” he replied simply and walked further into the room.

“A gift from whom?” Hermione asked, with slightly narrowed eyes.

“I have my suspicions,” Harry said vaguely, as he finally caught sight of the sneaky Slytherin standing in a corner by himself.

Their eyes met across the crowd and Harry couldn’t have pulled away from that smoldering gray gaze even if he had wanted to - and at the moment he didn’t.

He parted from Hermione and Ron, the latter looking very confused and the former looking slightly worried, and headed straight for Malfoy as if he were a moth being drawn to a light.

Suddenly they were only inches apart and Harry could feel the gaze of the entire school on the back of his neck as Draco took his hand and led him to the center of the dance floor.

“I know you’re doing this Malfoy,” Harry whispered through slightly gritted teeth.

“Doing what?” Malfoy asked coolly as he guided them around the floor on graceful feet.

Harry assessed him then and noticed his own robe coloring for the first time. He had been too preoccupied with his eyes before to even notice the crimson and gold of Malfoy’s robes. “What are you playing at?” Harry asked, feeling confusion wash over him.

“You’re really going to have to be more specific if you expect me to answer. You’d be rubbish at interrogation if you ever really chose to become and Auror,” he answered snidely.

Harry huffed and looked around briefly at the hundreds of eyes following their movements on the dance floor. He felt the weight of Malfoy’s palm in his hand and his other pressing firmly against his waist. “You’ve been controlling me and I want to know how, and why,” Harry stated firmly.

“Are you being controlled now?” Draco asked, his delicate blonde eyebrows floating into his thick and stylish blonde hair. Harry frowned and searched himself for that familiar feeling he would get when he was being controlled.

“No,” he answered finally.

“Yet here you are, dancing with me,” Malfoy said with a smile that made Harry shiver. “Why do you think that is?”

“I want answers,” Harry demanded at once, though there was a part of him that didn’t want Malfoy to stop touching him, that wanted to be there with him right then, holding his hand and gliding across the dance floor.

Malfoy remained silent and Harry moved to pull away, but Malfoy simply whispered ‘stay’ and he felt as though he had no choice.

His hand clung to Malfoy’s but now he could feel the familiar tingling in his flesh from whatever magic the Slytherin was wielding over him forcing him to stay at his side.

“Let’s start with the ‘why’ then shall we?” Draco answered at last and Harry felt the magic dissipate until it was only his hand inside of Malfoy’s once again. “I want you, Harry.”

Harry blanched at the words, both at the idea of Malfoy wanting him and at Malfoy calling him by his given name. Both seemed utterly outlandish and impossible.

“Rubbish,” Harry replied. “Tell me the truth.”

“That is the truth. I’ve always wanted a piece of you, but it’s only recently that I’ve decided that I want all of you. I need you, Harry,” he continued, his voice sounding a little strained and fearful as they circled the dance floor in perfect unison.

“Do you ever think of me as anything besides your enemy?” he asked.

Harry shook his head immediately. “No. Never.”

“Liar,” Draco hissed. “We can’t play this game if you’re going to lie.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but finally nodded. “Fine. I might. But so what? It doesn’t make things any different.”

“Just think about it. We’d be the perfect companions, both strong and clever, both powerful and not to mention good looking,” he added with a wink. “Tell me it doesn’t interest you.”

“Tell me how you’re controlling me and I’ll give you your answer,” Harry bartered, but Malfoy shook his head.

“No, you’ll take the power from me and still turn me away and then I’ll have nothing,” he replied with a firm yet sad smile.

“Is it not worth the risk?” Harry asked.

Malfoy seemed to think it over and he paused them in mid step, a deep frown set into his forehead. “No, not yet. There is not enough to gain at the moment. You’ll find a reason to deny your attraction to me,” he answered simply. “But you’ll see soon enough, and when you do, I’ll tell you, I’ll even give the power up… but not until you can see me the way I see you.”

“And you think that will happen if you continue to molest me in public?” Harry asked with narrowed eyes.

“Would you prefer I stick to molesting you in private then?” Malfoy asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Harry looked past him, no longer wanting to meet his penetrating gaze. He guessed that he was blushing, but hoped he was wrong. “That’s not what I meant.”

A knowing grin blossomed across Malfoy’s face and Harry found it contagious. He was close to returning the smile before he realized that Malfoy’s smile tended to hold more malice than goodwill. “I think you would be far more cross with me if you weren’t enjoying it,” Malfoy noted at last, his gaze challenging Harry to deny it.

Harry was always up for a challenge.

“I’m not enjoying it,” he balked. “And you were right before, I don’t feel the same way as you do, but you were also wrong, because I never will. You can keep scheming and harassing me but you’ll never win me.”

He studied Malfoy’s stoic reaction for several moments, watching as a few familiar emotions skittered through his icy gray eyes. It was clear that Malfoy was conflicted over his words, both believing and not believing them all at once. Harry imagined it must be hard for Malfoy not to be completely sure about something.

“Will you come with me somewhere?” he asked at last and Harry watched him curiously.

“Where?” Harry asked, surprised at being given a choice. If Malfoy really wanted him somewhere, it seemed all he had to do was direct him there.

“I’d like to get out of here, out of the range of prying eyes and ears,” he said, letting his eyes flick briefly around the room at the students still gathered nearby and staring overtly at the unlikely dance partners.

“If I say no, you’ll just make me go,” Harry grumbled.

“I won’t,” Malfoy assured him and loosened his grip on Harry’s hand as if to prove it.

Harry thought about it, quickly weighing the pros and cons of accompanying Malfoy to wherever he was going. He wanted to get himself out of the middle of the rumor mill more than anything, but that hole was already dug and he was well and truly buried in it by now. Leaving with Malfoy would only hurt things, not help them.

Then there was Ron and Hermione, who would worry if he took off in Malfoy’s care and though part of him screamed to agree and follow the Slytherin wherever he asked, the other -much stronger- part of him was terrified of the idea of being alone with Malfoy, especially after his most recent confession.

“No,” he said at last, and he watched Draco’s face fall for a moment before he schooled it into a careful mask of nonchalance. He simply nodded and released his hold on Harry’s hand and waist before stepping away and falling into a deep bow. Harry wasn’t sure whether it was meant to be patronizing or not, but he didn’t get a chance to ask because Malfoy turned and left, his shimmering golden robes billowing behind him as he made his hasty exit.

“What did he want?” Hermione asked him only seconds later as the whispering flooded in from the students all around him.

Harry just stared at the large double doors, his eyes unable to pull away from the place that Malfoy had just occupied. His hand still tingled slightly from the Slytherin’s touch and he rubbed it distractedly with his other hand, not certain whether he was trying to get rid of the feeling or press it deeper into his flesh.

“Harry?” Hermione called, turning him to face her and effectively breaking the trance, which was probably all it was to begin with. Another spell, another falsity.

“I think… well at least he says… he likes me,” Harry muttered at last.

“Romantically?” Hermione asked, while Ron made exaggerated puking noises from behind her.

Harry only nodded as he thought of his brief and intimate exchange with the infuriating ferret, while Hermione shot Ron a menacing glare.

“He sure has a funny way of showing it,” Hermione scoffed.

“Draco is very odd,” Harry whispered distractedly, his mind still wandering over the events of the past several weeks trying to search out any obvious malicious intentions. While Harry could clearly see, and remember, how embarrassing the acts were against him, none of it was particularly harmful to him.

“Did you just call him Draco?” Ron asked incredulously, grunting when Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

“Did I?” Harry asked in a soft whispery tone as he walked away from his friends and toward the exit. He felt bad about turning Draco away when he had been clearly reaching out and he felt even worse now that Malfoy had been true to his word and didn’t force his company on him.

“Where are you going?” Hermione asked, pulling Harry’s arm to keep him from fleeing.

“To find Draco,” Harry answered and almost laughed at the ridiculousness of his own words.

“Is he making you do this?” she asked, looking at him carefully.

Harry shook his head at once. “No. No this is all me. He just seemed sort of… lonely and I feel bad.”

Hermione smiled warmly but her eyes still held worry. “Be careful, Harry,” she whispered and kissed her friend on the cheek.

With a nod and a returning smile, Harry left the Great Hall and the fervent whispers that followed him out before the doors slammed shut behind him and left him alone with his thoughts again.

His mind was still in turmoil over why he was following after the insufferable git, but he felt compelled to do so all the same. He was pleased to know it wasn’t magic that made him want to follow after Draco, but his own heart, which if anything scared him more than worried him.

Authors Note: I just wanted to thank all my loyal readers for your reviews! I heart you all! Harry poppets for everyone