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Night Flight	By : Massanie Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 77519 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 30
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me and I'm not making any money with this story

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
CHAPTER 8: Rejected Inheritance

CHAPTER NOTES:

Thank you very much for the reviews!

I hope you enjoy the chapter but I want to give a warning of sorts: Blaise and Draco might seem a little bit harsh and unfeeling in this chapter, but they are pureblood Slytherins and you have to read between the lines with them.

"Well done, Alfar." Blaise praised with a curt nod towards the diligent House-Elf as he and Draco entered the study and strode up to Harry's unconscious form that was lying on the carpet in front of the still burning fireplace - a sign that Alfar, too, was a little bit miffed with their ill-mannered, defiant guest, or else he would have conjured him something more comfortable to rest on. Which was quite alright, since Blaise himself wasn't too pleased with the little nuisance either, right now.

Quietly the pair stepped past the preening House Elf and came to a halt in front of the dark haired young Vykélari, gazing down at his face that looked so deceptively innocent in the relaxed state of his magic-enforced sleep. He was not; it would indeed be foolish to think him innocent after the war he had been forced to fight.

"Incarcerous" Blaise intoned, his voice steady and calm, belying the anger he felt. Ropes slithered forward, encompassing and tightly binding the still unmoving body of that foolish Gryffindor. That stupid Gryffindor. That damn impulsive Gryffindor who couldn't even obey the rules for ten minutes! Ten. Bloody. Minutes.

He didn't allow himself to ponder what might have happened if Draco hadn't looked up at that very moment or if Alfar hadn't been just in time. He didn't want to think about what would have happened to the foolish boy. There were many fireplaces in Italy that one would not want to stumble out of, especially one as naïve and inexperienced as Potter, one who didn't know anything about the local wizarding communities, not to mention the fucking language! One who didn't know how easy it was to make a body vanish silently and without a trace.

Harry Potter was not a name that held much importance in Italy, a country where 'dark' was not necessarily 'evil'. A country where your bloodline was worth more than your money.

Damn it, didn't he ever think?

Obviously not! The idiot had never even contemplated the consequences of his actions, too busy challenging the two wizards that were able and willing to help him. They would have to have a serious conversation with that prat before he got himself bloody hurt! And considering the rate with which he brought himself into dangerous situations that meant right now.

The ropes, though he definitely didn't like seeing them on the other man's body, would ensure that Harry stayed long enough this time to hear them out.

"Ennervate!"

At their feet the foolish thing blinked his eyes open, those eyes that without the hideous glasses were of a stunning, almost unnatural green, that seemed even more so due to the mask of pale ultraviolet and the dark green lines that framed them. Harry shook his head once as if to clear it before he took in his surroundings with one quick glance around the room and then glared at the two Slytherins above him with a truly venomous expression.

Blaise allowed one corner of his mouth to raise even though he was not amused, in no way, but he knew it would irritate the raven and that in itself would make him feel better. Besides, he knew Draco was smirking next to him for some reason or another, and it was better to present a united front against Gryffindor stupidity. Come to think of it, his fiancé had been smirking silently since shortly after Alfar had hunted down Potter.

He was probably elated at having his former rival at his mercy, not that Blaise would fault him for that, he guessed it must be a rather elevating experience after all those lost endeavours and defeats. But then again, Draco had admitted to his lover how much it had infuriated him to see his school enemy bound and helpless and afraid lying on that hospital bed in St Mungo's, so maybe it was something different altogether.

Anyway, it was probably of no importance right now; there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Encountering Potter's intense glare calmly for a moment longer, Blaise flicked his wand at the two guest chairs in front of his desk, levitating them close for himself and Draco.

"Untie me!" Potter demanded with a growl as he noticed that his captors intended to have him lie at their feet while they sat down.

"I think not, Harry." Draco murmured with a silky smile, positioning the chair to his liking close to Potter's head and taking his seat. "Not after the stunt you pulled right now."

Draco really could have admitted that he liked their respective positions, it was obvious, Blaise thought as he himself sat down also. He might not like to cage another Vykélari, but he definitely enjoyed getting the better of Harry for once.

Languidly Blaise leaned back against the comfort of his arm chair and folded his hands in front of him, elbows propped up on the arm rests, watching, because he knew the silence would be hard to bear for Harry.

Harry, whose eyes flashed so furiously, who snarled at them defiantly but who refused to give them the satisfaction of a futile fight. Who only laid there, waiting with anger and apprehension warring on his pale and yet beautiful face.

Harry, who was so infuriatingly insubordinate, who refused to bow, who gave no thought to danger and valued his freedom more than his life.

Draco in the meantime was oblivious to his fiancé's irritation as he sat down on his own chair with crossed legs, leaning on one arm rest only, the index finger of his propped up arm idly wandering over his lower lip. Gods, he had felt so elated the moment he had seen through the wide windows how the red light filled the study, hitting Potter and knocking him out. No, not elated … alive!

How he had missed this, the battles, the challenges, the competition that were uniquely Harry Potter. Blaise and he - they had always been allies, comrades in arms if you will, they had never earnestly tried to compete aside from their usual, little games, and those didn't mean anything besides offering entertainment. They were partners. And all the other Slytherins that had surrounded him during their time at Hogwarts had never challenged him due to the simple power of his surname and the money that came with it

Potter - Harry - was someone to best, someone to conquer. Someone exciting, exciting enough to offer enough diversion for him and Blaise for a lifetime and then some.

Mordred was he glad that his crossed legs were hiding his growing erection. It wouldn't do to scare the skittish creature further. The beautiful thing, even though he was obviously scared, even though the ropes looked so wrong on him.

Draco frowned at that for a moment before he managed to convince his lips into a smile. He would hopefully not wear them for long anyway. "You know, Harry, you really should have stayed to talk about this further. You, sweet, have no idea about the mess your inheritance has gotten you into."

Harry's eyes widened at hearing the endearment and he shifted back a little bit, as much as he could with the restricting ropes encompassing his body and without being too obvious. It was endearing, really, Draco had to grant him as much.

"Untie me! Now!"

Draco chuckled and leaned forward to brush the tips of his fingers against those sharp cheek bones, his smile faltering only a little as Harry jerked his head away. "Believe me, I don't like seeing you tied up like this, but this time you have to hear us out."

At that, Harry gave a disbelieving snort, making Draco frown at him. Before the platinum blond could defend himself, though, Blaise cut in.

"It was dangerous what you did right there, Harry." He said almost conversationally, but his voice had a dangerous note to it and his light accent was just that little bit more pronounced. Draco straightened and looked over at his fiancé, somewhat surprised at the tone of voice that to him screamed of suppressed irritation.

Harry obviously didn't notice. "I was only about to use the floo connection!"

"And where to? Eh? What address would you have given?"

"Just 'somewhere'." Potter said, tartly. "What do you care, anyway?"

"'Somewhere'? Harry, you are not in Britain anymore! Here in Italy it is a serious offence to violate another's home by use of the floo connection. Most wizards ward the area around their fireplaces with traps, often lethal traps, that kill you the moment you step out of the fireplace without the permission of the owner."

Harry looked taken aback by that but it was impossible to tell if it was the practice itself or what might have happened to him that shocked him more. "I didn't know…"

"No, you didn't! And you didn't care, either. Harry, pureblood families are even more powerful here than they are in Britain and you are not exactly seen as a friend of pureblood values! You might have been killed and your mutilated carcass would have simply vanished with the use of the one or the other dark spell!"

"How was I to know?" Harry cried out, more to stop Blaise's ranting than anything else.

Unsurprisingly however, it didn't really seem to impress the Italian much. "Couldn't you just obey the rules you were given for ten bloody minutes?"

"Why? Did you honestly think I would lean back and take your shit just like that?" Harry growled "How stupid are you?"

"Careful, Potter!" Blaise warned, his voice dangerously low, and his dark eyes flashed as he leaned forward to hover over Potter's lying form.

From the way he tensed it was obvious that the brunet was not unaffected by the intimidating Italian looming over him like a dark Grim, but he braved him nonetheless, even pressing himself up from the ground with some effort, a challenge flashing in his eyes.

"What?" Harry taunted. "What will you do? You already kidnapped me! Will you torture me now, too?"

"Don't be stupid!" Blaise drawled haughtily, cocking his head "Why would we torture you? And we did not kidnap you; we took you into … preventive custody."

"Blaise." Draco admonished with an amused chuckle and laid one hand on his fiancé's upper arm to pull him back against the back rest of his chair, before turning to their unwilling guest. "I grant you that it was naïve of us to believe that the Gryffindor role-model would follow without back talk, rule-breaker that you are. But Harry, you should have known better, especially after what we told you…"

"You told me nothing but that I had to stay! You have no right to keep me here! No right to lord it over me!"

"To begin with, Harry, it is your fault that you were not given more information. If I remember correctly, you were the one to run away before we had the chance to tell you more" Draco drawled, his voice like ice, cold and hard and relentless. "So don't you dare accuse us now!"

To his right, Blaise leaned forward, almost leaving his chair "And we have every right to keep you here; didn't you listen to a word we said!"

Harry turned his head away and Draco could see the sinews in his throat flexing with the effort not to shout.

"Fuck you!" It was no more than a whisper.

From their long years of enmity in which they had always watched each other to the point of obsession, Draco knew that the Gryffindor was close to losing it. And at the same moment he realised that while he had the intimate knowledge of what words would be needed to make Harry start to shout and rant and fight his bonds, of how to arouse his fierce anger, he was completely at a loss as to how to not make him do that, how to not alienate him.

That would not have bothered him as such, what concern was it of his if Potter hated them? - even though something in his throat constricted painfully at that thought - but it would be easier for all of them if Potter would stay willingly.

With an enormous effort, Draco tried to gentle his voice as he addressed the Gryffindor next. "You are a submissive, Harry, and as dominants, we do have the right to…"

"I. Am. Not." A hiss, almost like Parseltongue.

"Yes you are!" Blaise said fiercely, moving down from his chair to kneel at Harry's side, forcing the brunet to look at him by grasping his chin between his strong fingers. "I can feel it even now! You have no idea of the effect of your marks! Like an aphrodisiac they are, calling out to a dominant to come and woo you, to court you: a strong and fertile submissive!"

That was more than Harry could take at that moment and his magic that had recovered a little bit over the course of the day simply reacted. He felt a little tightening in his chest like a coiled spring retracting and then an almost invisible force dashed forward out of his torso, smashing into Blaise and throwing him against the chair behind him. It was no concentrated hit, just an involuntary shove of magic and much energy was lost without taking effect. It was sufficient, though, to send both the chair and Blaise toppling over backwards with a crash and a surprised outcry from the dark skinned Italian.

"You okay?" Draco asked frantically as he immediately rushed to his fiancé's side, crouching down next to him. One of his hands stroked over the dark locks, carefully feeling for a possible head injury. He felt endlessly relieved as he found nothing aside from a small swelling that would soon become a respectable bump.

Thank Merlin that the idiot was still magically depleted and hadn't been able to use the full force of his powers, or Blaise might have found himself squished against the walls of his own study.

"I'm okay, it's nothing." Blaise murmured, his dark, shadowed eyes trained on Harry's quivering form, whose skin was now completely bereft of the beautiful green and ultraviolet, his black locks now free of the emerald feathers that had ruffled them so endearingly.

Damn it, he hadn't meant to push the Gryffindor into trying to reject his inheritance. And he really couldn't whitewash the fact that this was exactly what Harry was doing now: he didn't want to be a submissive Vykélari so much that his magic had taken back the physical changes of his body.

His heart missed a beat for a moment. Was it possible to reject your inheritance? Could Potter simply ignore the changes he had gone through? What if he just never transformed again, never allowed himself to use more of his powerful magic or even had a specialist put a block on it?

The first submissive in so long a time and he rejected the essence of what he now was wholeheartedly. And it was the fault of their poor judgement and domineering behaviour.

Harry felt nauseous, the kind of nausea that suffocates a person after too much labour in the hot summer sun, the body overheating from a mixture of overexertion, too few fluids and salts and the cruel heat. Harry knew that feeling intimately unfortunately, the garden work back at his aunt's and uncle's often being too strenuous for his half-starved body.

He really wanted to vomit, but god, he knew from experience that this wouldn't make him feel better.

Oh, he had known it would be a bad idea, the moment his magic surged forwards but he had been unable to control it … it had just happened. Harry really hadn't meant to hurt the Slytherin, regardless of what the bastard had said.

"'M sorry." He slurred his speech, his mouth not cooperating in the way he wanted it to and he watched apprehensively as both Draco's and Blaise's hazy forms rushed over to him. God, his head hurt so much and why was his vision so blurry again?

"It's okay, Harry." Blaise murmured soothingly while once again, Draco cut away the bindings from his body. It was a relief when his arms came free and weren't pressed to his uncomfortably hot torso any longer, retaining the warmth further that seemed to smother his body.

He closed his eyes as blessedly cool fingers soothed the heated skin on his forehead, brushing away his unruly fringe. That felt nice.

"Nothing is okay!" Draco exclaimed angrily and a moment later Harry opened his heavy eyelids to see the pale blond head appearing in his field of vision and he squinted his eyes groggily to see more clearly and be able to gauge the blonde's expression. Not good. It was certainly not good when Draco Malfoy showed his anger so openly, Harry knew that he had learned how to mask his feelings, how to lie and pretend, acting from necessity during the war. Absentmindedly Harry thought that it must have been horrible to have a bunch of lunatics in his own home, lead by a sadistic, unforgiving madman.

"Wandless magic is not to be taken lightly especially in your state. Do you want to die?"

Since it seemed to be a rhetorical question anyway and he felt too tired to answer, Harry kept his silence and laid still. Draco was such a drama queen, honestly, thinking Harry would die from that single bout of accidental magic; Harry might have told him that, too, had his skull not felt as if someone as powerful as Dumbledore himself had cast Expulso on it.

Coming to think of it, vomiting seemed to be not that bad an idea. But then again, he would have to move to get rid of his stomach's content and that was definitely not a good idea…

"Your magic is still bleeding out." Draco grumbled above him, the anger in his voice and expression oddly contrasting with the gentleness of his fingers as they moved to cup Harry's painfully tense neck.

For a moment Harry wondered if he should tell the git to take his hands off his body, but after a moment's contemplation that didn't seem worth the effort it would take him to form the words. And it started to feel … better: Harry had no idea what the two Slytherins were doing but gradually the overheated feeling of his skin receded until the aching of his muscles was at least bearable and the nausea a mere echo. A relieved sigh escaped his lips and he closed his eyes again, enjoying the remission of his pain.

That, however, soon made him qualmishly aware of the feathery caresses of their fingers that they still bestowed upon his face. Harry had never been a friend of close bodily contact. It was fine when one of his friends hugged him or Mrs Weasley, but when he had to keep still and accept a touch on naked skin, he always felt awkward and uncomfortable. He just wasn't used to it. When Ginny had tried to give him a massage - god, was that only a week ago? - he had tensed immediately, causing her light touches to tickle him awkwardly and her firmer ones to hurt. He had tried to keep still but after a few minutes he had stopped her and reversed their positions, giving her a massage instead.

Really, he just couldn't give himself into such a position of vulnerability…

And that's what they made him feel: vulnerable. He didn't like it. And yet, their caresses, probably imbued with magic, soothed the last echoes of his headache and made him feel … well, it was just such an intimate gesture that seemed almost affectionate?

"Harry," Blaise began, sounding oddly hesitant. "You are a submissive Vykélari."

Harry tensed. Merlin, how he wished they would stop saying that already! With flaring indignation he tried to dislodge their hands and pull away but Draco calmly pressed him down with both hands on his chests and Blaise's hands encompassed the sides of his face, his thumbs idly massaging his temples.

"Sshh, Harry. It is true. You are one of our kind now and that will change your life and it will be easier for you, if you accept that. But it doesn't mean that the changes will have to be for the worse."

It was all very well for them, Harry thought, after all they were not the ones being kidnapped and expected to obey and… he should really ask what it entailed to be a submissive Vyélari.

"Please accept what you are, Harry." Blaise murmured urgently. "Someone special, so very special: powerful beyond believe and beautiful. You will gain in influence and esteem and you will be able to achieve great things." Gently the Italian stroked over Harry's cheek with the back of his hand, his expression a carefully measured mask of warmth and sincerity. "What these things are is up to you."

Harry looked up into the black eyes of the tanned Italian, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. What if he didn't want to be powerful? But he knew what the Slytherin implied: he could do much good, if only he accepted his new status.

That in itself didn't sound so bad at all but Harry really couldn't believe that Draco and Blaise would simply allow him to pursue whatever goal he wished to achieve. It was more likely that they would try to use him for their own interests.

"But understand, Harry: your mate or mates will share in that power and that is why many Vykélari outside of the wards of this manor will try everything to force you to mate with them."

Almost Harry could have smirked in bitter self-irony. See? They did want to use him.

"And you don't?" Harry asked quietly, staring up at the Slytherin he had barely known before this whole mess had started.

"Draco and I would never force you into anything. We don't want you to mate with someone who would use you to become the next Dark Lord, but that is all."

Gentle fingers grasped Harry's chin, turning him to look at Draco, the blonde's eyes burning with a cold, silver fire. "If something develops between us, I wouldn't be averse. But we won't force you. I'll swear a Wizard's Oath if you want me to."

Harry was silent for a moment, contemplating the blonde's words. They were sincere enough, and yet… "And if not? If I don't want to … with you, when can I go home?"

"We will see." Draco answered with a small smile. "First, though, you have to learn how to better control your magic, how to fly." Here Draco's smile widened, making his normally aristocratic and cool face seem more open and approachable, almost beautiful.

Harry fought down his blush and encountered his school-nemesis' intense stare as calmly as he could. He didn't miss the evasion and if he was honest with himself, the unwillingness of his captors to commit themselves to any specific date worried him. Though not as intelligent as Hermione, Harry was in no way stupid. He knew how fatal ambition could be, the question was: if Harry refused to mate with them, would they let him go and risk losing him to one of their enemies, would they keep him imprisoned in this golden cage forever or would they go to the lengths of killing him?

He couldn't believe that they would do that. Not Draco, whose conscience hadn't allowed him to murder Dumbledore. And Blaise really didn't seem to be a killer either.

But would they let him go? Harry couldn't tell. He would have to wait for a chance to escape and in the meantime he would have to lull the two Slytherins into a false sense of security.

"Okay." He whispered before swatting their hands away from his face and sitting up slowly, frowning as he waited for his headache to return and he was relieved when it didn't.

"Why is my vision so blurred again?"

"You transformed back again, completely." Draco murmured, reaching for the brunet's black hair almost wistfully as if he missed the green feathers. Harry shied away; he didn't want them to touch him right now, not while he didn't know what they planned to do with him in the long run.

"Then I need my glasses."

"I will contact my father tomorrow morning and see what of your possessions I can get for you."

Harry eyed the blonde a little bit warily. "Thanks, Malfoy."

"Draco, my name is Draco."

"Okay." Harry relented, even though it was odd to call him that when during their long years of enmity they had always ever called each other by their surnames. But really it wasn't worth the fight and furthermore he needed to at least pretend to cave in.

"You could always transform your eyes back." Blaise spoke up, his black eyes seeming to stare right into Harry. "Not right now after you exhausted yourself like that, but tomorrow morning. You wouldn't need the glasses then."

Something in the Italian's expression made Harry wonder if this was more than a simple suggestion, a test maybe. The way Blaise kept looking at him, waiting for an answer as if it would decide all their future dealings…

"I like my glasses." Harry shrugged uncomfortably. And really, he had enough for now of the freakishness of his inheritance. Even his blurred sight was somewhat of a relief, a bit of normality and familiarity where his world had seemed too instable otherwise.

Blaise nodded. "All right."

Somehow Harry couldn't shake off the feeling that he had given the wrong answer.

"He is rejecting his inheritance!" Blaise pressed out, resting his chin on his arms, that were folded on the edge of the spacious pool. Draco watched him with a grimace, seeing the way the Italian's jaw muscles worked tensely. That must hurt!

They were alone in the pleasantly tempered water, Harry having retreated into his rooms, tired from the accidental magic he had cast earlier and probably to escape their presence for a while. It was understandable and, to be honest, quite welcome as Blaise had found it increasingly difficult to stay calm around the Gryffindor.

They had swam rounds in the ridiculously large pool for almost an hour, an hour during which Blaise's head only emerged from the water long enough to draw a deep breath and keep on diving. That had always been one of his habits and Draco privately thought it suited his silent character. Blaise needed to think things through and he revelled in the deep, all-encompassing silence the water provided him with. Blaise loved water, which was a little bit strange seeing as Vykélari were meant to fly and not to swim. But then, there were aquatic birds also.

"We don't even know if that is possible, Blaise. Don't jump to conclusions." Draco cautioned from where he sat at the edge of the pool right next to his fiancé, drops of water still clinging to his bare torso.

"Tomorrow we will speak with my father and see what he found out. And if nothing comes out of it we will simply have to show him the thrill of flying on one's own wings, the wonderful things he could do with his magic. If he has the spirit of a Vykélari he will not be able to deny himself those pleasures."

Blaise growled lowly, not really appeased by that proposal. Not at all.

He had deliberated why it bothered him so much that the newly fledged submissive would reject his inheritance because of them and he didn't like the reasons. Injured pride that the submissive would rather dismiss his powers instead of taking to Draco and him, a misplaced desire for that same power and for that lithe body and the searing knowledge that the thought of another Vykélari aside from his fiancé and him taking those two things galled him beyond reason. He didn't love Potter, Merlin, no, he didn't even like him exceptionally well, merely respected him somewhat grudgingly; but he would be damned if the only existing submissive would end up in another's arms!

Mordred, how was he to tell his fiancé?

Once more he submerged below the water's surface, his hands moving to keep him down. Immediately the water pressed against his ears, filling them with the sound of his own rushing blood, the sound of the water currents moving, the small waves hitting the edge of the pool. He heard Draco's left leg moving in a slow, small circle, disturbing the water's flow, the sound exaggerating the movement because he was so close and because there was barely anything else to hear.

Yes, how was he to tell Draco?

Idly he let a small amount of air escape his lips, watching the small bubbles heading upwards like small, transparent jellyfishes towards the surface where he saw Draco's distorted form looking down at him.

Draco who disliked Harry with a passion.

Blaise shook his head, letting the way his hair moved with the water distract him for a moment. He loved that feeling. Maybe he should let his hair grow just to experience it more strongly.

Hmmm. But Draco had also said he wanted to kiss the other teen. And really after feeling with the Hesperides' Nectar how magic could enhance the experience, Blaise certainly was not averse to the idea. Harry's magic might just prove to be addictive.

Absentmindedly Blaise pushed himself away from the pool's wall, treading the water softly with both his legs, not minding the resistance it offered to his movements as he floated there on his back in what was the closest thing to weightlessness there was on earth.

Merlin, it had only been a day. One single day and already he was determined to keep a tight hold of Harry Potter of all people, if Draco assented that is. He would never risk losing Draco. The blonde was too precious to him.

One single day. They were right when they said never to underestimate the seductive capabilities of power. What could he say? He was a Slytherin.

Gradually his lung started to burn from the lack of air, a sign that his little retreat into the silence of the water was about to end. A pity that, he could have used some more time alone with his thoughts.

Turning in the water, Blaise stemmed his feet against the tiles of the pool, and pushed himself off. When he broke to the surface, filling his lungs with the sweet air and brushing the wetness out of his eyes, Draco was there at the side of the pool, one of the large, fluffy towels wrapped around his narrow hip, another held open for him.

Smiling a little bit hesitantly, Blaise swam towards the blond, still unsure of what was to come.

"Better now?" Draco asked with twinkling eyes as the dark skinned Italian hauled himself out of the pool and accepted the towel. "What had you in such a state, love?"

Sighing, Blaise pressed the white towel against his face, wiping it dry and gaining some moments of time. "Harry."

"Of course." Draco said amicably, as if that was a perfectly well reason and the little smile in his voice made Blaise look up at him. His blond lover countered his gaze calmly, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I think we should strive to mate him." Blaise deadpanned, really not having the patience right now or the nerves to be more subtle.

Draco cocked a perfectly groomed eyebrow before looking towards the windows on first floor of the manor behind which Harry's rooms were situated. "You were the one to appeal to me for caution regarding him."

"I know." Blaise conceded. "But today made me realise that there are only three possibilities: either we mate with him, or another does or he dies. I don't want him to die, the first submissive in two centuries! If he dies without a male descendant there might never be another. I am too fascinated with magic to allow it to vanish, you are too fascinated to allow that. It has to be preserved."

Draco looked back at him, his eyes gleaming and the corners of his mouth twitching into an unwilling smile. "You are right. And?"

"And I don't want another to rule that power." Blaise said, watching as Draco lowered his eyes to hide the wicked elation that flared in them. It didn't work, Blaise had already seen it. So Draco wanted the younger teen also? Interesting.

"That power. Yes, I admit to desire it also." Draco purred and again he looked towards the Gryffindor's rooms, his lips curling into a complacent smirk.

"And I admit that I love a challenge." This challenge and all the challenges Harry might decide to put in his way in the future.

CHAPTER END NOTES:

Thanks for reading! Leave a review if you liked it and if not: tell me what I could improve, I'd really appreciate that!

And have a pleasant weekend, I'm taking off for Saturday and Sunday...
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Night Flight