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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: A reviewer brought to light a mistake of Slytherin Tower! I am sorry guys…it’s been a very long time since I read the books and I will admit that some of the details elude me so for the sake of the story, I will edit the chapter upon a review later on. Thanks for waiting for this installment!

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 Four-

Best Mate

When they arrived, Harry had been following with further distance between him and Malfoy; it was quiet in the common room. He had expected dark creature figurines and black magic symbols to embellish the large room, but was surprised that it looked similar to Gryffindor’s aside from the change in color. He followed Malfoy, determined to stay strong in light of his new surroundings. No doubt, come morning, he would be surrounded and unable to escape the tremendous amount of insults that should come flying his way.

Head boy, he wondered to himself. Why had Dumbledore allowed Malfoy to go unpunished? He was pretty obvious in his description of how Malfoy had knowingly snuck an experimental potion into his drink without his consent. Why was Malfoy allowed to walk free without so much as a slap on the hand? He grumbled beneath the surface of the thoughts.

Malfoy led him to a room that was apart from the others and fashioned a singular bed inside. He stopped before walking through the threshold, his head violently turning from side to side.

“No,” he said firmly. “I need my own bed.”

“You can sleep on the floor Potter.”

“You will get me a bed,” Harry said drawing his wand on Malfoy who merely watched him in amusement.

“Afraid of what I might do to you if we were to share?” Malfoy taunted.

“You never struck me as the sharing type,” Harry grumbled.

“Thus the reason for your bed being the floor, Potter,” Malfoy said coolly as he threw down a few things—pillows and small blanket. Harry watched them as they fell to the floor, sliding slightly before resting. He stared at Malfoy, his anger becoming almost uncontrollable.

“Right,” he said resolved. “I’ll be seeing you then.”

He turned and started to walk from the room before his arm was grabbed, and he was slammed back up against the wall. It seemed this was becoming a habit of theirs. He would go to leave; Malfoy would grab him and violently throw him against the nearest wall.

“Don’t be a coward Potter,” Malfoy spat. Harry watched him, his eyes remaining impassive though his chest was heaving with his growing rage. He fisted his hands and proceeded to smile at the taller boy, challenging him to go further.

“I am no coward,” he hissed. “Of course, I am sure you know that considering you are quite qualified to teach on what it is to be one. I will not stay on the floor, and I can easily return to my dorm and speak with the Headmaster tomorrow.”

Malfoy straightened, his hands tightening on Harry’s upper arms momentarily before they relaxed and Harry was released from the hold. Malfoy stood for a few minutes before he allowed a small chair to be transformed into a bed. Harry would speak to the Headmaster about accommodations tomorrow. After this evening, he wanted to be nowhere near Malfoy. Attraction, bond, magical counterparts or the latter, the bloke was still a major arse.

Climbing into his bed and drawing the privacy curtain about it, Harry changed quickly to his nighttime wear and eased into the comfort of the bed. He was used to harsh treatment and sleeping in a home where he was unwanted. Malfoy would be no different. However, he found renewed tears and allowed them to fall freely beneath the privacy of his silencing charm.

*

Hands, elegant and pale, were touching his flushed skin as if caressing it into submission. He could feel the feather-light touches ghost over his sensitive flesh from the base of his neck downwards touching his upper torso, the lightly defined, and taut of his abdomen, and even further still towards his growing erection.

His breathing was labored beneath the touch, gasping and groaning in response to the expert fingertips. Suddenly, a hand clasped his eager erection, stroking it with long, languid fingers. He could feel it building just below his belly button—the feeling of release. It was close as those fingers teased the crown, sliding the pad of a smooth thumb over the weeping slit.

He arched into it, wanting and begging those hands for more.

“Spread your legs,” a subtle, silky voice said from above him. He obliged it, drawing his legs open wide and allowing those sinful fingers to touch over his puckered entrance. They tease it, eliciting more groans from deep in his throat. Pain, sharp and strong, shot from below as they entered him. They stretched him impossibly making him cry out against the invasion.

“Please,” he whimpered.

“Please what Potter?”

“Please stop,” he cried as they tore through him.

“Don’t be a coward Potter.”

Harry awoke with his eyes wide and his chest heaving against the dream. He looked around but was relieved to see that the privacy curtain was still about and the silencing charm had held. He rubbed his eyes, shaking away the dream and ignoring the other alert appendage in his trousers.

He could hear the soft sounds of breathing from next to him; a sound that he attributed to the snarky prat. Getting out of the bed, he decided he would rather distance himself from the offender in his dreams. No need to remain when his raging erection threatened to take every bit of his harvested control in order to ignore his urges.

A brisk walk should take care of his problem, or maybe even a quick trip to the lavatory. He made his way out of the privacy curtain only to catch sight of the unguarded Malfoy curled up beneath a comforter, hugging a pillow in his arms. Harry held his mouth in attempts at stifling his laughter. The tall boy, often like a predator, lay squeezing tightly to his soft hostage and sprawled legs apart in an awkward position that left one bare foot hanging over the side of the bed.

Harry crept up to the side of the bed, finding the temptation to gaze at the unguarded Slytherin too hard to ignore. He stiffened as Malfoy moved, his face turning away and a slight ‘num num’ sound as he readjusted in his sleep.

“Do not touch just touch it Potter,” the sleeping teen grumbled as he settled back into the sheets. “…mmm”

Harry’s stomach clenched tightly as he fought back his laughter. It was too much as the fair-haired boy was completely immersed in his dream enough to vocalize a few sentences. Of course, he finally gathered that it was him the other was dreaming of which gave way to his curiosity as he crept closer still. Malfoy was silent for minutes, and Harry almost gave up after he realized he had been standing at the side of the bed waiting like a stalker for something to appear.

“You are so tight Potter,” the other finally mumbled. Harry stood straight against the voice. Malfoy was definitely dreaming about him and much in the same way he had just dreamt of the other. He took a few steps back as Malfoy’s arm flew out and hung over the side of the bed exposing the naked flesh of his chest beneath the covers.

His breathing hitched at the sight of the tempting skin. He wanted so badly to touch it; to feel what the other had hidden beneath all those aristocratic robes he wore during the day. He paused in his thoughts as the sleeping teen made no further movement. He could if he was quick and quiet about it. He felt hatred belly for his own thoughts and actions, but he was working oddly against it as he crept back forward. He dodged the hand that twitched slightly as the boy once more smacked his lips together in a humming sound before resettling. Who would have thought Malfoy was such a noisy sleeper? The teen prided himself in his control of both emotion and face during the day, but was completely unlike any other during his sleep.

Harry leaned over, the pale skin peeking out from dark covers. He fingered the edge of the comforter that rested just inside Malfoy’s armpit and pulled it back slightly, exposing more of the flesh in the process. Slowly, he drew back the comforter when the other continued to lay motionless in his sleep. Holding his breath as he did so, he uncovered a good portion of defined pale flesh that trembled beneath the bite of cold. He bit his lower lip to keep his hands from roaming over it and merely gazed at it with renewed arousal.

To say that Malfoy was built would be an understatement. He was entirely defined to perfection with each muscle of his torso. To the flexing biceps all the way to well defined pectorals and finally the hard rounding of six abdominals was enough to make any man green with envy. It was perfection in which Harry could only dream of obtaining with his very slight form. Malfoy let out a deep, stuttered sigh which brought Harry out of his entranced gaze. He quickly removed himself from the side of the bed and snuck back into the privacy of his own, his heart hammering loudly in his chest.

He hid beneath his covers and tightly shut his eyes trying to force the image of the sleeping wizard from his mind. It was fruitless however. He settled to try for sleep though his groin was angrily throbbing at this point in need. He ignored it and did his best to attain his own dream world.

*

“Headmaster,” the shrill undertone in Professor McGonagall’s voice was threatening to break. “Surely you mean to punish Mister Malfoy…”

Dumbledore hummed above his fingers and gave her a regarding gaze. “How do you mean?”

“Sir,” Harry cut in when Professor McGonagall huffed in her annoyance. “I would like to continue to stay in my own dormitory.”

“Are you quite sure,” the man inquired.

“Yes,” Harry said firmly.

“Very well,” Dumbledore said finally. “Mister Malfoy will need to relinquish his role as Head Boy due to his misconduct towards Mister Potter. I will alert Professor Snape and Mister Malfoy this evening. However, how would you like to proceed for the replenishment of your magic?”

“Headmaster,” Professor McGonagall chimed in having found her voice once more. “I understand that Harry will require a certain amount of contact with Mister Malfoy. However, I do not condone his being connected with the boy through bonding.”

“Minerva,” Dumbledore said softly. “It should serve the Cause very well if they decided to. That may be, I will not force Mister Potter to do anything in which he does not ask of himself. What would you like to do Harry?”

Dumbledore had dropped the honorifics as the conversation had turned towards a personal note. Harry had earlier snuck from the Slytherin quarters before anyone had woken in order to avoid all of the sure hexes that would have been sent straight at his head. He had left the sleeping Slytherin, still mumbling and hugging his soft captive tightly. He pushed back all the urges to continue to brave it there and decided that it was best to go with Dumbledore’s earlier suggestion of meetings for replenishment. He would rather not meet with the other at all, but seeing as how that was not exactly a possibility, he would control the amount of time and keep it at the minimal amount.

Thankfully, his contact with Malfoy had proven replenishing since that morning he was able to eat a little upon his check up with Poppy. He wasn’t sure when the next time would be, and he hoped it was not any time soon.

“I would rather meet with Malfoy only when required to,” Harry began evenly. “I have not decided entirely about the bonding, but at the moment, I would not like to any time in the future.”

Dumbledore watched him sincerely through his speech and gave way to a nod in acknowledgement.

“Very well,” the man said smoothly. “I shall speak with Mister Malfoy in order to set a schedule in which you two may meet uninterrupted a few times during the week. Maybe we could arrange a remedial course cover with either Professor Snape or Professor McGonagall.”

“I would prefer it if I could supervise,” McGonagall said rather quickly receiving a small smile from Dumbledore.

“So good of you to volunteer,” he said still smiling.

“I will reiterate that I only do this for Mister Potter’s sake,” she said rather coldly. “I will only allow for what is absolutely necessary to keep his magic replenished.”

“Thank you Professor,” Harry said softly. It felt slightly warming knowing the older witch was keeping her eyes out for him, but a part of him twisted at the idea of her being nearby while they replenished.

“Well then,” Dumbledore said in his resolve. “Every two days should be enough starting tomorrow. I suspect you have much to do so I will speak with you again shortly.”

Harry nodded before leaving the man’s office. He ignored the disappointment threatening to make him turn around and take back all his demands.

*

“So where were you mate?” Ron said as the two hovered in the corner. Hermione had earlier gone off to the library for her research for Charms and was eagerly awaiting a book from which she had ordered to borrow earlier.

“Infirmary,” Harry lied. He put his back against the stone and eyed his red headed friend. “How are things with Hermione?”

Ron visibly blushed before he leaned forward just after making sure they were not being watched. “I feel like I am not able to perform. Why is that Harry? Anytime I think about doing…that…I don’t think about her.”

Harry felt the hot air of the teen’s breath about his face, reminding him of the previous night with Malfoy. His eyes fluttered against the twisting in his stomach.

“How do you mean?” he said softly. “Who do you think about?”

Harry opened his eyes to the other whose face had not lost its flush. Instead, it seemed to flush further as Ron mumbled beneath his breath.

“Didn’t catch that, Ron.”

“I said,” Ron mumbled and leaned over. “I think about someone else. Why does it matter? I’m not thinking about ‘Mione…”

Harry felt curiosity bubbled beneath at the flushing now cherry on the pale skin of his freckled friend. He was starting to feel the slight twinge of discomfort at the obvious omission. It seemed Ron was battling himself over something, but would not tell Harry of it. It must be a great deal humiliating if even he was unable to hear of it.

“You can tell me Ron,” Harry said pressing a hand to the taller boy’s shoulder. Ron’s eyes went wide at the contact before he nodded slightly. “I won’t judge you.”

“I know,” Ron said softly. “I just don’t know how to say it.”

“Well let’s start with when did you start to notice you were thinking of someone else?”

“I guess you could say it’s kind of always been that way,” Ron said gently gazing at Harry with a slight taint of vulnerability.

“So who is it,” Harry asked again.

“You,” Ron said almost too silently. Harry stiffened against the confession, dropping his hand from the other’s shoulder in the process.

“Me,” he said in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Ron said moving a bit closer in a sudden surge of courage. “I don’t know when, but it feels like it’s always been this way.”

“Did you tell…?” Harry said still unable to speak coherently.

“She doesn’t know,” Ron said firmly with a shake of his head. “She does know that there is someone else…”

“Ron,” Harry said defeated. “I think you may be confused.”

“I thought so too Harry,” Ron said slightly insulted at Harry’s accusation. “But mate, I’m not. It’s you I’ve been thinking ‘bout.”

He could feel it as his best mate before him leaned closer; eyes were watching him, and he pulled away capturing the icy blue orbs with his own emerald green as Malfoy walked from down the end of the corridor. How had they been found? Had Malfoy heard them?

The other watched him for moments as Ron turned a glare at the taller Slytherin.

“What do you want ferret?” he hissed.

“Nothing that I do not already have Weasel,” Malfoy said coolly.

Harry breathed as he watched the fire exchange between the boys’ eyes before Malfoy turned and was gone just as quickly as he had appeared. Ron turned back to Harry, his eyes flaming with rage.

“Bloody Malfoy,” he growled. Harry just watched his long time friend feeling disappointment in his stomach at how nonchalant the other had been at their discovery. What did he want? Harry was ashamed of his own thoughts and soon realized he had missed Ron’s question.

“Harry,” Ron said hesitantly. “Was it too much?”

Harry suddenly realized what Ron had confessed to and backed away from the other a step. “No, I just don’t know what to say.”

He did not know what to say. He did not know with what he could possibly respond with that would set Ron at ease. He was not even sure how what he felt at the admission.

Ron looked defeated just before a small smile broke out over his lips. “Don’t worry Harry. I am just glad I could finally get it out in the open.”

“Yeah,” Harry said softly. “It doesn’t change things, Ron. You’re still my best mate.”

“Same to you,” Ron said with a pat to Harry’s shoulder. “Let’s go before we are late for Transfiguration class.”

*

End Note: Thanks for waiting! I am still unsure as to where I really want to go from here…kind of a writer’s block as I’ve been running through my other story recently. If anyone has any ideas they would like to share, please put it into a review!
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The Attraction in Opposition