HP - The Face of His Enemy - Prologue and Part 1 - Harry/Draco
In honour of it being July 31st (Harry Potter's birthday), I am posting the Prologue and First Chapter of my new Harry Potter story - The Face of His Enemy.
The story is complete and has been beta read by the extremely talented writers - lastscorpion and jasmasson. *hugs them both*. However, I'm being a little slow about making the changes and corrections so each chapter will get posted as I go along.
Also - I was tempted to write "Fuck" on the summary line, because I hate writing summaries. If I did, however, then everyone would think that this story was a lot pornier than it actually is.
Title: The Face of His Enemy
Author: mahaliem
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: On the train to Hogwarts, Draco is hit with a curse that results in him reassessing who he is and who his true enemies are.
Disclaimer: JKR owns everything and everyone (except for some minor original characters).
Author's Note: I had written over 33,000 words of this story before Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince were sold. It is therefore AU. Any similarities between this story and JKR's is purely coincidental.
A great big thank you to my beta readers jasmasson and lastscorpion. I owe them so much. Any remaining errors are mine and mine alone.
The Face of His Enemy
Prologue
Ron bounced excitedly next to Harry on the train bound for Hogwarts. It was the beginning of their seventh year and, as he was Head Boy and Hermione was Head Girl, the year looked promising.
"I can't wait to see Malfoy," Ron exclaimed.
Harry and Hermione glanced at one another, puzzled.
"I was visiting my father one day at the Ministry and things were a bit dull, so I began poking around. There were some books on a desk and I started to read one."
"You must have been frightfully bored to have done that," Hermione stated.
Harry grinned at her, but the implications went over Ron's head.
"I found the most amazing spell. I can't wait for that git to show up and start spouting his nonsense. Then wham! I'll hit him with it."
"What does it do?" Harry asked
Ron leaned back and smiled smugly. "I'll let that be a surprise."
There was a small frown on Hermione's face. "Ron, are you sure it's safe? As Head Boy, you're expected to act responsibly."
"Positive." Ron straightened back up. "I know. I'll teach it to both of you. Then, all three of us can use it on Malfoy. Start the year off right by showing him who's boss."
Although Hermione still had her doubts, she and Harry listened carefully to Ron's instructions.
Twenty minutes later, Draco Malfoy, accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle, opened the door to their compartment and stood in front of them.
"If it isn't the Head Boy and Head Girl - the exception to the rule that two heads are better than one." Draco turned to look at Harry. "Don't feel left out, Potter. You've always been Head Weirdo."
Ron glanced at the others and raised his wand. Harry and Hermione raised theirs as well.
The bolt of the spell slammed into Malfoy sending him flying out of the compartment to crash into Crabbe and Goyle resulting in a tumble of arms and legs sprawled on the floor.
The trio raced to the door. Hermione gasped in horror. Harry looked at Malfoy in shock, and then turned stunned eyes on Ron.
Ron was staring with his mouth hanging open. "Bloody hell."
Chapter 1
In the headmaster's office, Draco sat huddled in his robes, his hood drawn down to conceal his face, and swore for the seventeenth time under his breath. He'd been swearing louder, but that harpy McGonagall had threatened to turn him into a lamp, so he might at least shed some useful light on the situation, if he used such language again.
Dumbledore, the fool, was smiling and acting as if it were all a big joke. This was further proof that Father was right and the Headmaster was senile. At least Professor Snape, standing next to him, realised the utter humiliation Draco was experiencing.
Snape glared at the trio who sat stiffly on a sofa. "These students performed a highly illegal spell and must be punished."
"Expelled. Azkaban. Roasted in the fiery pits of hell," Draco interjected, waving his arms about so wildly that his robes flapped. At McGonagall's look, he calmed down and lowered his voice. "Just making suggestions."
"Thank you, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore said. "But I was thinking more along the lines of having the punishment fit the crime. Although your transformation is only temporary, we have no idea how long it might last. In the meantime, I do believe that it may present some difficulties for you. It will be Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger's duty to see that you experience as few problems as possible."
Draco perked up. "I get to order them about?"
On the sofa, Ron looked ill and Hermione afraid, while Harry stared at Draco defiantly.
"Alas, no," Dumbledore said. Draco sank back in his seat, disappointed. "It is my decision that these students should protect you from the many consequences that might arise."
"Can you make that any more vague?" Draco murmured from under his cowl, ignoring another beady-eyed glare from McGonagall.
"To facilitate this arrangement, I am ordering Mister Malfoy's things to be placed in the Gryffindor tower alongside Mr. Potter's."
Gasps and cries of "No!" sounded throughout the room along with a piteous wail from Draco.
Professor Snape stalked to Dumbledore's desk. "As Head of Slytherin house, I must protest the removal of one of my students from--"
"Yes, yes, yes. So noted." Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. "The house elves should be completing the transfer of Mister Malfoy's possessions as we speak. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a message I must write to the Ministry concerning their lack of security toward certain books of dangerous origin."
Ron's gulp was loud enough that even from across the room, Draco could hear it.
The thought of Weasley being punished by his parents cheered Draco up considerably as the assemblage filed from the room. That happiness evaporated as McGonagall turned on him.
"Mister Malfoy, as you are now one of my students I expect you to exhibit the proper behavior as befits the proud house of Gryffindor. I will be most disappointed if I do not see it." Giving Draco one last dirty look, she spun on her heels and strode away.
Professor Snape put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "If these…" there was a pause, as if he were searching for a polite term for Harry, Hermione, and Ron,"... students give you any trouble, you do know what to do, don't you?"
"Make them regret it with every fiber of their being?"
"Quite right." With a flare of his robes, Snape left.
Draco was now alone in the corridor with the sullen Gryffindors. Although he talked big, he knew that these three could probably destroy him. Actually, recalling his current predicament, they'd already done so.
"You've done it this time, Weasel. Your father's sure to lose his job over this and then the lot of you will starve."
Ron paled and Draco felt a surge of satisfaction.
Harry pushed himself between Ron and Draco. "It's not like he'll go to Azkaban over it, though. Tell me; is the great Lucius Malfoy still a bit barmy after bribing his way out of there?"
"Leave my father out of this," Draco hissed.
"Why should I? You never did. It was always my father will do this or my father will do that. Noticed you weren't saying a thing in there about him today. Is it because you know that no one cares about the Malfoys anymore?"
"Shut up, Potter. You know nothing, nothing about fathers. Just because yours died along with your Mudblood mother, it gives you no right to try to take away mine!"
Harry was starting forward when Hermione intercepted him. "Stop it! We're in enough trouble as it is."
An uneasy silence followed while the boys glared at each other.
Finally, Hermione sighed. "You can follow me," she said to Draco.
"Wait. You're really going to help this git?" Ron asked.
"We have to, Ron. It was Dumbledore's orders and considering the circumstances, we are being let off extremely lightly."
When Ron looked at Harry for support, he received a shrug in reply.
"I don't like it any better than you, but Dumbledore did order us to help him," Harry said.
Harry faced Draco and scowled. "You might as well pull your hood back. With it covering you like that you look like a short Dementor."
Draco took a step back. "No. I won't. It's horrible."
"It's not like we haven't seen it before," Harry said, angry and impatient.
With a huff at the unfairness of life, Draco pushed back his hood and revealed his new form.
Green eyes behind glasses stared into green eyes behind glasses.
To the entire world it would appear as if there were now two Harry Potters.
* * *
"I don't understand why he's here."
From where Draco lay, wondering what he'd ever done to deserve this fate, Thomas's whisper to Potter was quite audible. Weasley had performed a silencing spell around the group huddled on a bed on the other side of the Gryffindor seventh year boys dormitory, which was probably why it hadn't worked properly.
Earlier, the trio of fumblers had led him to a portrait of a large woman and, after much reluctance, spoken the password "Valiant." Entering the Gryffindor common room, Draco stifled a sharp gasp. Now he understood where the Gryffindors got their bravery. Having to face this incredibly tacky red and gold room every day would certainly require a great deal of courage.
Murmurs of incredulity had greeted his and Potter's appearance.
"Two of him?" someone said from the back of the room.
"Harry, what happened?" The female Weasley approached but, unfortunately for her, chose the wrong Potter.
"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Which, come to think of it, is actually an incentive to be forthcoming."
"Malfoy," Harry growled warningly.
Ginny looked at the real Potter, confusion evident. "Malfoy did this?"
Draco sniffed. "I most certainly did not. It was that idiotic brother of yours. He'd be in Azkaban if there were laws against stupidity."
The girl began to back away, all the time her gaze flickering between the two Potters.
"Harry?"
Potter hurried forward to calm the girl. "It's a long story, Ginny."
"No it isn't," Draco said sneeringly. "Granger, Weasley, and Potter cast a spell that turned me into this awful creature you see before you. Now Dumbledore says I'm to stay here and the three of them have to obey my every whim."
"That's not what he said," Hermione protested.
"Pure semantics." Draco lifted his chin. "Now lead me to my room before this ghastly décor upsets my delicate sensibilities and I become ill."
While the Gryffindors stared, some with open mouths, Ron and both Harrys headed for their room. Reaching it, Draco flung himself on his bed, the green coverings making it obvious to all that it belonged to a Slytherin, and proclaimed himself fatigued from the events of the day.
Now he feigned sleep while listening to the conversation across the room.
"Dumbledore assigned us to watch over him," Potter was explaining to Thomas's question. "I'm not sure why, but I don't think he trusts the Slytherins not to do something horrible to him now that he looks like me."
"But why does he look like you?" asked Longbottom. "What kind of spell did you do, anyway?"
Ron glanced up from where he'd been staring at the floor, looking guilty. "It was supposed to turn him into his biggest nightmare."
Everyone turned toward Harry who seemed embarrassed. "I guess that's me."
Harry seemed uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of their stares, and it would all have been most amusing, but Draco decided he'd wasted enough time. There was work to be done.
Faking a yawn, he stretched and sat up. It took a moment to realise that the reason the group in front of him looked blurry was he'd forgotten to put on those stupid spectacles Potter insisted on wearing. Fumbling on the table beside his bed, he grabbed them and placed them on his face.
"Good. You're all here," Draco said to the group that was staring at him. Standing, he began to pace back and forth as he eyed each one of the seated Gryffindors. "Seeing how I've been banished from my home, I will no longer have Crabbe and Goyle to do my bidding. Therefore, I am in the market for a replacement minion. Temporary, of course."
"You're joking," Harry said disbelievingly.
"You, Potter, won't do at all. Despite how much I might enjoy ordering you around, you are much too stubborn and independent to be a good minion." Draco pointed to Weasley. "And I hate you too much to even speak to you, so you're out as well."
Ron's eyes widened. "I don't think he's joking at all."
Thomas, Finnegan, and Longbottom as one scooted back from Malfoy who was doing a lot of hmming as he considered the remaining choices. With an air of finality, he pointed to Neville.
"You, Longbottom. You'll be my minion."
Neville turned pleading eyes to Harry. "Do I have to?"
"Of course not," Harry said firmly.
Harry began to step forward to intercede, but Draco moved closer to Neville, placing his arm on the boy's quaking shoulder.
"As my minion you will laugh at my jokes, especially the poor ones, provide physical back-up, if necessary, and live to serve me. The advantage to you is that you will be under my protection. Any insult to you is an insult to me. Additionally, you will be my potions partner where you will stand and do nothing, touch nothing, but share in my grade which is almost always excellent."
Neville stopped quivering and looked up at Malfoy. "Potions partners? Really?"
Draco nodded. "The only one who might have a chance of topping our Potions grade is Granger."
"You aren't really thinking of doing this, are you Neville?" Harry asked.
"I need Potions if I'm going to make Herbology my career. And imagine Snape having to give me a good grade," Neville said, still in amazement. "I bet he'd rather cut off his arm than do that."
"Then prepare yourself for a one-armed Potions professor." Draco stuck out his hand toward Neville. "Agreed?"
Neville stood up and grasped it firmly. "Agreed."
Slowly Seamus lifted a hand to catch Draco's attention. "You don't happen to need a second minion, do you?"
An elbow in his ribs caused him to lower the hand and scowl at Dean. "You know my Potions grade stinks," he muttered.
Draco turned and smiled at Harry, twisting those lips that matched Potter's own into a smirk.
"One Gryffindor down. An entire houseful to go." Spinning around, he faced the rest of the group. "Now, which half of this room is mine?"
* * *
For the third time, Draco shook Harry and again there was no response. The Boy Who Lived really should be The Boy Who Slept like the Dead, he mused. If it hadn't been a matter of extreme importance, he would've given it up. As it was, he was forced to put his hands on Potter and shake him a fourth time, even harder than before. Since he'd started out fairly rough, he was now almost thrashing him.
This time, however, Potter stirred. "Voldemort," he murmured before turning over and pulling the covers up over his head.
Draco rolled his eyes. If Death Eaters attacked after Potter's bedtime, Dumbledore's forces would be destroyed while Potter slept through it. This thought gave Draco a wonderfully nasty idea.
Leaning over, he whispered urgently to the area of the blanket that covered Harry's ear, "Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts."
Harry sat up suddenly, almost ramming his head into Draco. "Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts!" he shouted.
Low grumbles came from the other beds.
"Oh do shut up, Harry," Draco heard Thomas mutter.
Blinking a few times, Harry reached for his glasses and looked at Draco. It was plain that there was a moment of confusion as to why he was looking at himself, but that cleared in a moment.
"Voldemort isn't attacking Hogwarts?" he asked.
Draco shook his head. "No, he isn't. But seeing how you're up, I really need your assistance"
"What time is it?"
"Not quite seven."
Harry glanced at his clock then frowned at Draco. "It's not even six."
"This makes it not quite seven." At Harry's reluctance to leave his bed, Draco reminded him, "Dumbledore told you to help me. And this is an emergency."
"An emergency?" Harry leapt out of bed and grabbed his wand.
He was clad only in pyjama bottoms and Draco took a moment to admire Potter's bare chest. Earlier, he'd seen that same chest in the mirror when he'd done a cursory inspection of his new body. Seeing it now, on Potter, however, was much different. For a moment, Draco considered pursuing the matter. Too bad there was something much too vital to attend to first.
Draco motioned for Harry to follow him. "This way, Potter."
He led them into the bathroom and Harry looked around, wand raised, searching for enemies. Finding none, he peered at Draco curiously.
"What's the emergency?"
"You have to ask?" Draco's voice rose and he made an effort to control his panic. "Look at me."
"You're just getting the fact we're now identical?" Harry's voice was puzzled.
"I know that, you prat. But look at this…this…" In exasperation, Draco grasped handfuls of hair on his head.
"The emergency is your hair?"
Draco whirled on him. "It's your hair. Your hair. My hair is perfect. It's bright, shiny, and manageable. This…this disaster doesn't deserve to even be called hair."
"You got me in out of bed because you don't like your hair?" Harry asked, still trying to work out what the problem was.
"First I tried brushing it, then gelling it. When that failed, I brought out the scissors to shape it. Then, in desperation, I cut it all off. And do you know what happened then?"
"It grew back," Harry said calmly.
"It grew back!" Draco shouted.
Harry shrugged. "It's always been like that."
Draco's eyes became large. They darted to Harry's scar then to his hair. "It's a curse," he whispered. "It must be. Voldemort not only marked your face, he cursed you with eternally messy hair."
"I don't think…" Harry began, but Draco cut him off.
"Father always told me Voldemort wasn't really evil. He's just misunderstood, he'd say. Well, obviously Father has lied to me."
"Wait a minute." Harry pushed closer to Draco until they were standing face to face. "Let me get this straight. Voldemort does horrible things. He tortures people, kills them, but what convinces you that he's evil is my hair?"
Draco nodded. "There are always plenty of reasons and excuses for killing people. There is no excuse for poor grooming habits."
When Harry slammed the bathroom door on his way back to bed in the hope of getting a little more sleep, Draco didn't notice. He was too busy trying to work out what course of action to take next in the battle with his hair.
* * *
Draco took a deep breath as he stood outside the Great Hall. Except for Neville, the others, including his supposed protectors, had abandoned him as he'd contemplated what to wear, trying on various outfits and robes and adjusting them, as necessary, to his new dimensions.
"You look nice."
Neville's voice penetrated Draco's thoughts, calming him down slightly. A good minion didn't speak unless spoken to, but Longbottom was still learning.
"Of course I look nice. Malfoys always appear at their best, despite the circumstances, no matter how trying they might be."
Throwing open the doors, Draco strode in.
The news of what had occurred had reached all the students, but there were still gasps, murmurs and frenzied whispers, as well as heads turning to look at the real Potter when Draco entered.
"It is I, Harry Potter!" Draco announced, pitching his voice so that everyone could hear. "I have come to save all of you lower beings from Voldemort. Where is Voldemort?"
He scanned the hall as if to find the Dark Lord lurking in the corners while some students began to titter.
"Is there at least a Death Eater to slay? A troll to vanquish? A kitten up a tree, perhaps?"
Quite a few students were now laughing. Catching a glimpse of the Gryffindor table, Draco could almost feel the hatred pouring from it. Potter was sitting there, gripping his wand, Hermione practically holding him down. The younger Weasley was doing the same for her brother.
Heaving a fake sigh of disappointment, Draco shook his head. "Very well. I am off to sulk at the injustice of my life. Please, no requests for autographs."
He turned to Neville and spoke quietly. "I'm going to breakfast with the Slytherins. You may join me or join your friends, but be ready to go when I am."
Without waiting for an answer, he spun on his heel and headed toward his usual seat. Upon arriving, Crabbe and Goyle stood up to face him.
"What are you doing here, Potter?" Crabbe threatened.
Draco rolled his eyes while Pansy intervened. "Vince, Greg, we talked about this. It's really Draco."
The pair looked at him skeptically, still unconvinced.
"If you two dunderheads don't sit down and begin shoveling food in your mouths as you are wont to do, I will be happy to perform a little-known curse which involves donkey ears, webbed feet, and extreme flatulence."
"That's Draco, all right," Greg murmured to Vince and they returned to their seats.
Taking a sip from the cup of tea he'd poured himself, Draco raised his eyes to see Millicent, Blaise, and Pansy all staring at him from across the table.
"What?" he asked irritably.
"You look good, Draco," Pansy answered. "Really good."
"I look like Potter," Draco spat.
Blaise looked Draco over admiringly. "Didn't know Potter could look like that."
"I simply corrected my vision, transfigured my clothes to fit correctly, and finally managed to work with this mess of a hair, giving it that just shagged air."
"Your trousers are too tight," Vince said around a mouthful of sausage.
The two girls and boy across the table quickly assured him that his trousers were perfect as they were, so Draco began eating a piece of toast.
A moment later he scowled at Pansy. "I am in no mood for a game of footsie."
She blinked at him. "It's not me."
Draco turned his scowl on Millicent, who seemed confused.
"Sorry," Blaise muttered quietly.
* * *
Exiting the Great Hall with Neville at his side, Draco was accosted by Harry.
"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" he hissed.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You know - spouting that nonsense in there. Not to mention going around looking like…like that."
Draco glanced down at himself. "I'm perfectly attired, as always."
"Those trousers are so tight you might as well be prancing about bare-arsed."
"Well, if you'd rather I remove them…"
Harry growled and pushed Draco against the wall. "So help me, Malfoy, if you even think of humiliating me again, I'll--"
"Um, Harry?" Neville said, tapping him on the shoulder. "You can't do that."
Both Draco and Harry turned their heads to look at him.
"I'm Draco's minion and I don't think I'm supposed to let him get beat up." Neville looked pleadingly at Harry. "Please, Harry. I really need the help in Potions."
Making a noise of disgust, Harry gave Draco one final shove before moving away and stomping down the corridor.
"Well done, Longbottom," Draco said while straightening his robes. "Though minions usually employ violence rather than puppy-dog eyes, your method does appear to have worked."
Giving Neville a nod of approval, Draco headed for class.
* * *
Snape stalked to the front of the classroom and turned to face the students, looking down his large nose at them as they sat at their desks. His eyes scanned over them until they focused on Neville with laser-like intensity.
"Mister Longbottom. Please tell me for what purpose you'd use a potion created by combining mandrake root, mugwort powder, and fimblezig wings."
"A wart removal," Draco said, not looking up from his notes.
All the students in the classroom turned their heads toward him in startlement.
"Mister Malfoy," Snape sneered. "I was unaware that in addition to being Mister Potter, you were now Mister Longbottom, as well."
Draco raised his head. "Longbottom's mine now. My Potions partner."
Snape paused, his eyes narrowed. "Am I to understand, then, that you are assuming responsibility for Mister Longbottom's actions in this classroom? That it will be your duty to see there are no more potions that eat away at the bottom of cauldrons, no more pouring out of noxious fumes, no more cataclysmic explosions?"
Draco simply answered "Yes, sir."
"Then you shall have your work cut out for you." Snape lowered his voice. "Be careful, Mister Malfoy. The Gryffindor penchant for mindless bravery might be catching." He raised his voice again. "Fifty points to Slytherin for a solution to an irritating nuisance of a problem. Now turn to page four hundred and eighty-three."
Opening his book, Draco felt a hand on his elbow and glanced at Neville.
"Thanks," Neville whispered gratefully, looking as if a large load had been lifted from his shoulders.
Nodding in reply, Draco returned his attention to his book, ignoring the strange emotion he was feeling inside.
* * *
Draco trudged along behind most of the pack of Gryffindors and Slytherins to Care of Magical Creatures. Neville walked next to him, eyeing Crabbe and Goyle next to him fairly nervously.
"So, Longbottom, do you have any interests, any hobbies? Crabbe, here, enjoys listening to music. Goyle likes taking things apart."
Goyle grunted. "Mostly Hufflepuffs."
Neville hesitantly volunteered, "I like Herbology."
"Oh," Draco said, losing interest, but Neville wasn't done yet.
"You learn so much about plants. For instance, see that bush over there?" Neville pointed to one that appeared to be covered in spikes. "If you break off those large thorns and cook them, they're quite tasty."
Crabbe and Goyle perked up.
"They're food?" asked Crabbe.
"When heated thoroughly," Neville replied.
With no regard for class, Crabbe and Goyle hurried over to the bush and began harvesting thorns.
Draco put his hand on Neville's shoulder. "Longbottom, you silver-tongued rascal. You've thoroughly charmed Vince and Greg."
"I have?"
Lowering his voice, Draco said conspiratorially. "Just keep pointing them toward food and you'll have friends for life."
Glancing back to where Crabbe and Goyle were still breaking off spikes, Neville thought for a moment, and then nodded. "I know of a lot of plants that are edible."
* * *
"Now this wee creature," Hagrid said, about the green ball of fluff in his arms, is called a Glibbertyfigg. They're quite sensitive to emotions, you know. If you're happy, this mite will take to you like nobody's business. However, if he feels hatred or any nasty emotions, he'll shock you hard."
Draco spoke up. "You expect us to believe that this dumb animal can tell what we're feeling? That's preposterous. It most likely takes an immediate like or dislike based on scent or something."
For a moment Hagrid frowned before realisation hit him. "Ah, yes, you'd be Malfoy, then." He stepped closer to Draco. "Why don't we do a bit of a demonstration, then?" Scanning the students, he saw Potter standing near the back. "Harry, come here."
When Harry made it to the front of the group, Hagrid thrust the creature into Harry and Malfoy's arms.
"The two of you look the same, smell the same, right? We'll see if this glibbertyfigg can tell you apart."
Draco and Harry looked at one another then down at the furry animal in their arms.
"I do hope I have the end that eats," Draco said, tilting his head down to see if it was true, but literally unable to make heads or tails of the glibbertyfigg.
"Can it, Malfoy," Harry muttered.
With a shrug, Malfoy straightened. After half a minute nothing had happened to either him or Harry.
"Potter, I did need to ask you something," he whispered.
"What?"
"I was wondering if you had a girlfriend."
"No."
"A boyfriend?"
"No!"
The creature stirred a bit in their arms, then resumed its deathlike plop.
Harry leaned closer to Draco. "Why did you want to know?"
"I thought if you did, they might be interested in spending a night with someone who actually knew what they were doing."
Harry glared at Draco. "Why you…OW!"
A loud zap sounded and Harry sprang back, clutching the hand that had held the glibbertfigg.
Hagrid stared with round eyes at Harry then back at Draco.
"Mr. Hagrid," Draco intoned. "I believe I owe you an apology. This creature does possess marvelous attributes. Excellent taste being one of them"
There was a low rumble and Draco looked down at the fluffy animal, and then let out a laugh.
"I think it likes me. It appears to be purring."
* * *
Dinner had been uneventful for Draco. He'd made a few jokes at Potter's expense, but certainly nothing that should have resulted in the blood-curdling yell Potter let out at one point. Okay, perhaps he'd said one or two things.
Hermione and Ron had managed to calm Potter down considerably, so that when Draco had passed him in the Gyffindor common room a few hours before, he'd only uttered a small growl.
Obviously, Potter knew next to nothing about holding a grudge. He'd probably have gotten over it by morning, giving Draco a fresh slate to smudge up.
While doing his nightly preparations for bed, Draco stood naked in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom, examining his new body as he put on lotion. He wondered idly if he should 'Accio' a hand mirror so that he'd have a better view of his backside.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Spinning around he saw Potter staring at him with wide eyes.
"Moisturising. From the terrible condition of your skin, I doubt you've ever heard of it."
"I have heard of it." Potter folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "It's something girls do."
"Do I look like a girl to you?" Malfoy asked, then waved away the remark as Potter's face became flushed with anger. "Wait, don't answer that. I must say, however, that you do have a fairly nice arse." Malfoy twisted so that he could see most of the body part in question. "Not too big, not too flat, firm, and muscular. Must be all that Quidditch." His hands moved behind him, testing the tautness as he spoke.
Harry's face was beginning to redden. "Stop that."
Feigning innocence, Draco met his eyes. "Stop what?"
"Stop… stop touching my arse."
"It's my arse now, thanks to you and your friends." Draco spun so that he faced Harry fully. Bringing a hand up to his chest, he let it slide down his torso until it reached his groin. "This is mine now, too. Not nearly as impressive as the arse, but more than adequate."
Draco watched Harry swallow hard while his face became a fiery shade.
"I wonder…" Draco said, with a calculating air and reached for the lotion. He squirted some on his hand then reached down again, this time stroking. Within a minute he raised his head. "You do grow. Oh, good show, Potter."
Harry pushed off from the wall and charged forward. "Dammit, Malfoy! If you don't stop…"
"You'll what?" Draco interrupted. "Hurt me for having a wank with my new equipment? What an interesting conversation you'll have afterwards with Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall."
Halting in his tracks, Harry gazed on mutely, his fists clenched in frustration.
Malfoy's hand continued to slide up and down. "Tell me you haven't thought of this, Potter."
"Thought of what? Being humiliated by you?"
"No." Draco's voice sunk to a husky whisper. "My hands on you. Touching you."
Harry opened his mouth, but no words emerged, just gurgling sounds. He backed up several steps. Finally, his voice began to work again, though it came out close to a croak. "I-I-I haven't."
"But you're thinking of it now, aren't you Potter. Thinking of me stroking you. Sliding my palm up and down, tightening my grip. If you want it to happen, all you have to do is ask." Malfoy shut his eyes, concentrating on his own actions. A moment later, his lids fluttered open and his gaze met Harry's. "Look how hard I've made you."
Harry's eyes focused on where Malfoy's hand still moved.
Malfoy smiled wickedly. "Not there, Potter."
With dawning horror, Harry's mouth dropped open as he realised his trousers were tented.
Draco watched the Hero of the Wizarding World turn and flee as fast as he could from the bathroom.
His eyes gleaming with triumph, Draco returned his attention to the business at hand.
Chapter 2
The story is complete and has been beta read by the extremely talented writers - lastscorpion and jasmasson. *hugs them both*. However, I'm being a little slow about making the changes and corrections so each chapter will get posted as I go along.
Also - I was tempted to write "Fuck" on the summary line, because I hate writing summaries. If I did, however, then everyone would think that this story was a lot pornier than it actually is.
Title: The Face of His Enemy
Author: mahaliem
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: On the train to Hogwarts, Draco is hit with a curse that results in him reassessing who he is and who his true enemies are.
Disclaimer: JKR owns everything and everyone (except for some minor original characters).
Author's Note: I had written over 33,000 words of this story before Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince were sold. It is therefore AU. Any similarities between this story and JKR's is purely coincidental.
A great big thank you to my beta readers jasmasson and lastscorpion. I owe them so much. Any remaining errors are mine and mine alone.
The Face of His Enemy
Prologue
Ron bounced excitedly next to Harry on the train bound for Hogwarts. It was the beginning of their seventh year and, as he was Head Boy and Hermione was Head Girl, the year looked promising.
"I can't wait to see Malfoy," Ron exclaimed.
Harry and Hermione glanced at one another, puzzled.
"I was visiting my father one day at the Ministry and things were a bit dull, so I began poking around. There were some books on a desk and I started to read one."
"You must have been frightfully bored to have done that," Hermione stated.
Harry grinned at her, but the implications went over Ron's head.
"I found the most amazing spell. I can't wait for that git to show up and start spouting his nonsense. Then wham! I'll hit him with it."
"What does it do?" Harry asked
Ron leaned back and smiled smugly. "I'll let that be a surprise."
There was a small frown on Hermione's face. "Ron, are you sure it's safe? As Head Boy, you're expected to act responsibly."
"Positive." Ron straightened back up. "I know. I'll teach it to both of you. Then, all three of us can use it on Malfoy. Start the year off right by showing him who's boss."
Although Hermione still had her doubts, she and Harry listened carefully to Ron's instructions.
Twenty minutes later, Draco Malfoy, accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle, opened the door to their compartment and stood in front of them.
"If it isn't the Head Boy and Head Girl - the exception to the rule that two heads are better than one." Draco turned to look at Harry. "Don't feel left out, Potter. You've always been Head Weirdo."
Ron glanced at the others and raised his wand. Harry and Hermione raised theirs as well.
The bolt of the spell slammed into Malfoy sending him flying out of the compartment to crash into Crabbe and Goyle resulting in a tumble of arms and legs sprawled on the floor.
The trio raced to the door. Hermione gasped in horror. Harry looked at Malfoy in shock, and then turned stunned eyes on Ron.
Ron was staring with his mouth hanging open. "Bloody hell."
Chapter 1
In the headmaster's office, Draco sat huddled in his robes, his hood drawn down to conceal his face, and swore for the seventeenth time under his breath. He'd been swearing louder, but that harpy McGonagall had threatened to turn him into a lamp, so he might at least shed some useful light on the situation, if he used such language again.
Dumbledore, the fool, was smiling and acting as if it were all a big joke. This was further proof that Father was right and the Headmaster was senile. At least Professor Snape, standing next to him, realised the utter humiliation Draco was experiencing.
Snape glared at the trio who sat stiffly on a sofa. "These students performed a highly illegal spell and must be punished."
"Expelled. Azkaban. Roasted in the fiery pits of hell," Draco interjected, waving his arms about so wildly that his robes flapped. At McGonagall's look, he calmed down and lowered his voice. "Just making suggestions."
"Thank you, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore said. "But I was thinking more along the lines of having the punishment fit the crime. Although your transformation is only temporary, we have no idea how long it might last. In the meantime, I do believe that it may present some difficulties for you. It will be Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger's duty to see that you experience as few problems as possible."
Draco perked up. "I get to order them about?"
On the sofa, Ron looked ill and Hermione afraid, while Harry stared at Draco defiantly.
"Alas, no," Dumbledore said. Draco sank back in his seat, disappointed. "It is my decision that these students should protect you from the many consequences that might arise."
"Can you make that any more vague?" Draco murmured from under his cowl, ignoring another beady-eyed glare from McGonagall.
"To facilitate this arrangement, I am ordering Mister Malfoy's things to be placed in the Gryffindor tower alongside Mr. Potter's."
Gasps and cries of "No!" sounded throughout the room along with a piteous wail from Draco.
Professor Snape stalked to Dumbledore's desk. "As Head of Slytherin house, I must protest the removal of one of my students from--"
"Yes, yes, yes. So noted." Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. "The house elves should be completing the transfer of Mister Malfoy's possessions as we speak. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a message I must write to the Ministry concerning their lack of security toward certain books of dangerous origin."
Ron's gulp was loud enough that even from across the room, Draco could hear it.
The thought of Weasley being punished by his parents cheered Draco up considerably as the assemblage filed from the room. That happiness evaporated as McGonagall turned on him.
"Mister Malfoy, as you are now one of my students I expect you to exhibit the proper behavior as befits the proud house of Gryffindor. I will be most disappointed if I do not see it." Giving Draco one last dirty look, she spun on her heels and strode away.
Professor Snape put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "If these…" there was a pause, as if he were searching for a polite term for Harry, Hermione, and Ron,"... students give you any trouble, you do know what to do, don't you?"
"Make them regret it with every fiber of their being?"
"Quite right." With a flare of his robes, Snape left.
Draco was now alone in the corridor with the sullen Gryffindors. Although he talked big, he knew that these three could probably destroy him. Actually, recalling his current predicament, they'd already done so.
"You've done it this time, Weasel. Your father's sure to lose his job over this and then the lot of you will starve."
Ron paled and Draco felt a surge of satisfaction.
Harry pushed himself between Ron and Draco. "It's not like he'll go to Azkaban over it, though. Tell me; is the great Lucius Malfoy still a bit barmy after bribing his way out of there?"
"Leave my father out of this," Draco hissed.
"Why should I? You never did. It was always my father will do this or my father will do that. Noticed you weren't saying a thing in there about him today. Is it because you know that no one cares about the Malfoys anymore?"
"Shut up, Potter. You know nothing, nothing about fathers. Just because yours died along with your Mudblood mother, it gives you no right to try to take away mine!"
Harry was starting forward when Hermione intercepted him. "Stop it! We're in enough trouble as it is."
An uneasy silence followed while the boys glared at each other.
Finally, Hermione sighed. "You can follow me," she said to Draco.
"Wait. You're really going to help this git?" Ron asked.
"We have to, Ron. It was Dumbledore's orders and considering the circumstances, we are being let off extremely lightly."
When Ron looked at Harry for support, he received a shrug in reply.
"I don't like it any better than you, but Dumbledore did order us to help him," Harry said.
Harry faced Draco and scowled. "You might as well pull your hood back. With it covering you like that you look like a short Dementor."
Draco took a step back. "No. I won't. It's horrible."
"It's not like we haven't seen it before," Harry said, angry and impatient.
With a huff at the unfairness of life, Draco pushed back his hood and revealed his new form.
Green eyes behind glasses stared into green eyes behind glasses.
To the entire world it would appear as if there were now two Harry Potters.
* * *
"I don't understand why he's here."
From where Draco lay, wondering what he'd ever done to deserve this fate, Thomas's whisper to Potter was quite audible. Weasley had performed a silencing spell around the group huddled on a bed on the other side of the Gryffindor seventh year boys dormitory, which was probably why it hadn't worked properly.
Earlier, the trio of fumblers had led him to a portrait of a large woman and, after much reluctance, spoken the password "Valiant." Entering the Gryffindor common room, Draco stifled a sharp gasp. Now he understood where the Gryffindors got their bravery. Having to face this incredibly tacky red and gold room every day would certainly require a great deal of courage.
Murmurs of incredulity had greeted his and Potter's appearance.
"Two of him?" someone said from the back of the room.
"Harry, what happened?" The female Weasley approached but, unfortunately for her, chose the wrong Potter.
"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Which, come to think of it, is actually an incentive to be forthcoming."
"Malfoy," Harry growled warningly.
Ginny looked at the real Potter, confusion evident. "Malfoy did this?"
Draco sniffed. "I most certainly did not. It was that idiotic brother of yours. He'd be in Azkaban if there were laws against stupidity."
The girl began to back away, all the time her gaze flickering between the two Potters.
"Harry?"
Potter hurried forward to calm the girl. "It's a long story, Ginny."
"No it isn't," Draco said sneeringly. "Granger, Weasley, and Potter cast a spell that turned me into this awful creature you see before you. Now Dumbledore says I'm to stay here and the three of them have to obey my every whim."
"That's not what he said," Hermione protested.
"Pure semantics." Draco lifted his chin. "Now lead me to my room before this ghastly décor upsets my delicate sensibilities and I become ill."
While the Gryffindors stared, some with open mouths, Ron and both Harrys headed for their room. Reaching it, Draco flung himself on his bed, the green coverings making it obvious to all that it belonged to a Slytherin, and proclaimed himself fatigued from the events of the day.
Now he feigned sleep while listening to the conversation across the room.
"Dumbledore assigned us to watch over him," Potter was explaining to Thomas's question. "I'm not sure why, but I don't think he trusts the Slytherins not to do something horrible to him now that he looks like me."
"But why does he look like you?" asked Longbottom. "What kind of spell did you do, anyway?"
Ron glanced up from where he'd been staring at the floor, looking guilty. "It was supposed to turn him into his biggest nightmare."
Everyone turned toward Harry who seemed embarrassed. "I guess that's me."
Harry seemed uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of their stares, and it would all have been most amusing, but Draco decided he'd wasted enough time. There was work to be done.
Faking a yawn, he stretched and sat up. It took a moment to realise that the reason the group in front of him looked blurry was he'd forgotten to put on those stupid spectacles Potter insisted on wearing. Fumbling on the table beside his bed, he grabbed them and placed them on his face.
"Good. You're all here," Draco said to the group that was staring at him. Standing, he began to pace back and forth as he eyed each one of the seated Gryffindors. "Seeing how I've been banished from my home, I will no longer have Crabbe and Goyle to do my bidding. Therefore, I am in the market for a replacement minion. Temporary, of course."
"You're joking," Harry said disbelievingly.
"You, Potter, won't do at all. Despite how much I might enjoy ordering you around, you are much too stubborn and independent to be a good minion." Draco pointed to Weasley. "And I hate you too much to even speak to you, so you're out as well."
Ron's eyes widened. "I don't think he's joking at all."
Thomas, Finnegan, and Longbottom as one scooted back from Malfoy who was doing a lot of hmming as he considered the remaining choices. With an air of finality, he pointed to Neville.
"You, Longbottom. You'll be my minion."
Neville turned pleading eyes to Harry. "Do I have to?"
"Of course not," Harry said firmly.
Harry began to step forward to intercede, but Draco moved closer to Neville, placing his arm on the boy's quaking shoulder.
"As my minion you will laugh at my jokes, especially the poor ones, provide physical back-up, if necessary, and live to serve me. The advantage to you is that you will be under my protection. Any insult to you is an insult to me. Additionally, you will be my potions partner where you will stand and do nothing, touch nothing, but share in my grade which is almost always excellent."
Neville stopped quivering and looked up at Malfoy. "Potions partners? Really?"
Draco nodded. "The only one who might have a chance of topping our Potions grade is Granger."
"You aren't really thinking of doing this, are you Neville?" Harry asked.
"I need Potions if I'm going to make Herbology my career. And imagine Snape having to give me a good grade," Neville said, still in amazement. "I bet he'd rather cut off his arm than do that."
"Then prepare yourself for a one-armed Potions professor." Draco stuck out his hand toward Neville. "Agreed?"
Neville stood up and grasped it firmly. "Agreed."
Slowly Seamus lifted a hand to catch Draco's attention. "You don't happen to need a second minion, do you?"
An elbow in his ribs caused him to lower the hand and scowl at Dean. "You know my Potions grade stinks," he muttered.
Draco turned and smiled at Harry, twisting those lips that matched Potter's own into a smirk.
"One Gryffindor down. An entire houseful to go." Spinning around, he faced the rest of the group. "Now, which half of this room is mine?"
* * *
For the third time, Draco shook Harry and again there was no response. The Boy Who Lived really should be The Boy Who Slept like the Dead, he mused. If it hadn't been a matter of extreme importance, he would've given it up. As it was, he was forced to put his hands on Potter and shake him a fourth time, even harder than before. Since he'd started out fairly rough, he was now almost thrashing him.
This time, however, Potter stirred. "Voldemort," he murmured before turning over and pulling the covers up over his head.
Draco rolled his eyes. If Death Eaters attacked after Potter's bedtime, Dumbledore's forces would be destroyed while Potter slept through it. This thought gave Draco a wonderfully nasty idea.
Leaning over, he whispered urgently to the area of the blanket that covered Harry's ear, "Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts."
Harry sat up suddenly, almost ramming his head into Draco. "Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts!" he shouted.
Low grumbles came from the other beds.
"Oh do shut up, Harry," Draco heard Thomas mutter.
Blinking a few times, Harry reached for his glasses and looked at Draco. It was plain that there was a moment of confusion as to why he was looking at himself, but that cleared in a moment.
"Voldemort isn't attacking Hogwarts?" he asked.
Draco shook his head. "No, he isn't. But seeing how you're up, I really need your assistance"
"What time is it?"
"Not quite seven."
Harry glanced at his clock then frowned at Draco. "It's not even six."
"This makes it not quite seven." At Harry's reluctance to leave his bed, Draco reminded him, "Dumbledore told you to help me. And this is an emergency."
"An emergency?" Harry leapt out of bed and grabbed his wand.
He was clad only in pyjama bottoms and Draco took a moment to admire Potter's bare chest. Earlier, he'd seen that same chest in the mirror when he'd done a cursory inspection of his new body. Seeing it now, on Potter, however, was much different. For a moment, Draco considered pursuing the matter. Too bad there was something much too vital to attend to first.
Draco motioned for Harry to follow him. "This way, Potter."
He led them into the bathroom and Harry looked around, wand raised, searching for enemies. Finding none, he peered at Draco curiously.
"What's the emergency?"
"You have to ask?" Draco's voice rose and he made an effort to control his panic. "Look at me."
"You're just getting the fact we're now identical?" Harry's voice was puzzled.
"I know that, you prat. But look at this…this…" In exasperation, Draco grasped handfuls of hair on his head.
"The emergency is your hair?"
Draco whirled on him. "It's your hair. Your hair. My hair is perfect. It's bright, shiny, and manageable. This…this disaster doesn't deserve to even be called hair."
"You got me in out of bed because you don't like your hair?" Harry asked, still trying to work out what the problem was.
"First I tried brushing it, then gelling it. When that failed, I brought out the scissors to shape it. Then, in desperation, I cut it all off. And do you know what happened then?"
"It grew back," Harry said calmly.
"It grew back!" Draco shouted.
Harry shrugged. "It's always been like that."
Draco's eyes became large. They darted to Harry's scar then to his hair. "It's a curse," he whispered. "It must be. Voldemort not only marked your face, he cursed you with eternally messy hair."
"I don't think…" Harry began, but Draco cut him off.
"Father always told me Voldemort wasn't really evil. He's just misunderstood, he'd say. Well, obviously Father has lied to me."
"Wait a minute." Harry pushed closer to Draco until they were standing face to face. "Let me get this straight. Voldemort does horrible things. He tortures people, kills them, but what convinces you that he's evil is my hair?"
Draco nodded. "There are always plenty of reasons and excuses for killing people. There is no excuse for poor grooming habits."
When Harry slammed the bathroom door on his way back to bed in the hope of getting a little more sleep, Draco didn't notice. He was too busy trying to work out what course of action to take next in the battle with his hair.
* * *
Draco took a deep breath as he stood outside the Great Hall. Except for Neville, the others, including his supposed protectors, had abandoned him as he'd contemplated what to wear, trying on various outfits and robes and adjusting them, as necessary, to his new dimensions.
"You look nice."
Neville's voice penetrated Draco's thoughts, calming him down slightly. A good minion didn't speak unless spoken to, but Longbottom was still learning.
"Of course I look nice. Malfoys always appear at their best, despite the circumstances, no matter how trying they might be."
Throwing open the doors, Draco strode in.
The news of what had occurred had reached all the students, but there were still gasps, murmurs and frenzied whispers, as well as heads turning to look at the real Potter when Draco entered.
"It is I, Harry Potter!" Draco announced, pitching his voice so that everyone could hear. "I have come to save all of you lower beings from Voldemort. Where is Voldemort?"
He scanned the hall as if to find the Dark Lord lurking in the corners while some students began to titter.
"Is there at least a Death Eater to slay? A troll to vanquish? A kitten up a tree, perhaps?"
Quite a few students were now laughing. Catching a glimpse of the Gryffindor table, Draco could almost feel the hatred pouring from it. Potter was sitting there, gripping his wand, Hermione practically holding him down. The younger Weasley was doing the same for her brother.
Heaving a fake sigh of disappointment, Draco shook his head. "Very well. I am off to sulk at the injustice of my life. Please, no requests for autographs."
He turned to Neville and spoke quietly. "I'm going to breakfast with the Slytherins. You may join me or join your friends, but be ready to go when I am."
Without waiting for an answer, he spun on his heel and headed toward his usual seat. Upon arriving, Crabbe and Goyle stood up to face him.
"What are you doing here, Potter?" Crabbe threatened.
Draco rolled his eyes while Pansy intervened. "Vince, Greg, we talked about this. It's really Draco."
The pair looked at him skeptically, still unconvinced.
"If you two dunderheads don't sit down and begin shoveling food in your mouths as you are wont to do, I will be happy to perform a little-known curse which involves donkey ears, webbed feet, and extreme flatulence."
"That's Draco, all right," Greg murmured to Vince and they returned to their seats.
Taking a sip from the cup of tea he'd poured himself, Draco raised his eyes to see Millicent, Blaise, and Pansy all staring at him from across the table.
"What?" he asked irritably.
"You look good, Draco," Pansy answered. "Really good."
"I look like Potter," Draco spat.
Blaise looked Draco over admiringly. "Didn't know Potter could look like that."
"I simply corrected my vision, transfigured my clothes to fit correctly, and finally managed to work with this mess of a hair, giving it that just shagged air."
"Your trousers are too tight," Vince said around a mouthful of sausage.
The two girls and boy across the table quickly assured him that his trousers were perfect as they were, so Draco began eating a piece of toast.
A moment later he scowled at Pansy. "I am in no mood for a game of footsie."
She blinked at him. "It's not me."
Draco turned his scowl on Millicent, who seemed confused.
"Sorry," Blaise muttered quietly.
* * *
Exiting the Great Hall with Neville at his side, Draco was accosted by Harry.
"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" he hissed.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You know - spouting that nonsense in there. Not to mention going around looking like…like that."
Draco glanced down at himself. "I'm perfectly attired, as always."
"Those trousers are so tight you might as well be prancing about bare-arsed."
"Well, if you'd rather I remove them…"
Harry growled and pushed Draco against the wall. "So help me, Malfoy, if you even think of humiliating me again, I'll--"
"Um, Harry?" Neville said, tapping him on the shoulder. "You can't do that."
Both Draco and Harry turned their heads to look at him.
"I'm Draco's minion and I don't think I'm supposed to let him get beat up." Neville looked pleadingly at Harry. "Please, Harry. I really need the help in Potions."
Making a noise of disgust, Harry gave Draco one final shove before moving away and stomping down the corridor.
"Well done, Longbottom," Draco said while straightening his robes. "Though minions usually employ violence rather than puppy-dog eyes, your method does appear to have worked."
Giving Neville a nod of approval, Draco headed for class.
* * *
Snape stalked to the front of the classroom and turned to face the students, looking down his large nose at them as they sat at their desks. His eyes scanned over them until they focused on Neville with laser-like intensity.
"Mister Longbottom. Please tell me for what purpose you'd use a potion created by combining mandrake root, mugwort powder, and fimblezig wings."
"A wart removal," Draco said, not looking up from his notes.
All the students in the classroom turned their heads toward him in startlement.
"Mister Malfoy," Snape sneered. "I was unaware that in addition to being Mister Potter, you were now Mister Longbottom, as well."
Draco raised his head. "Longbottom's mine now. My Potions partner."
Snape paused, his eyes narrowed. "Am I to understand, then, that you are assuming responsibility for Mister Longbottom's actions in this classroom? That it will be your duty to see there are no more potions that eat away at the bottom of cauldrons, no more pouring out of noxious fumes, no more cataclysmic explosions?"
Draco simply answered "Yes, sir."
"Then you shall have your work cut out for you." Snape lowered his voice. "Be careful, Mister Malfoy. The Gryffindor penchant for mindless bravery might be catching." He raised his voice again. "Fifty points to Slytherin for a solution to an irritating nuisance of a problem. Now turn to page four hundred and eighty-three."
Opening his book, Draco felt a hand on his elbow and glanced at Neville.
"Thanks," Neville whispered gratefully, looking as if a large load had been lifted from his shoulders.
Nodding in reply, Draco returned his attention to his book, ignoring the strange emotion he was feeling inside.
* * *
Draco trudged along behind most of the pack of Gryffindors and Slytherins to Care of Magical Creatures. Neville walked next to him, eyeing Crabbe and Goyle next to him fairly nervously.
"So, Longbottom, do you have any interests, any hobbies? Crabbe, here, enjoys listening to music. Goyle likes taking things apart."
Goyle grunted. "Mostly Hufflepuffs."
Neville hesitantly volunteered, "I like Herbology."
"Oh," Draco said, losing interest, but Neville wasn't done yet.
"You learn so much about plants. For instance, see that bush over there?" Neville pointed to one that appeared to be covered in spikes. "If you break off those large thorns and cook them, they're quite tasty."
Crabbe and Goyle perked up.
"They're food?" asked Crabbe.
"When heated thoroughly," Neville replied.
With no regard for class, Crabbe and Goyle hurried over to the bush and began harvesting thorns.
Draco put his hand on Neville's shoulder. "Longbottom, you silver-tongued rascal. You've thoroughly charmed Vince and Greg."
"I have?"
Lowering his voice, Draco said conspiratorially. "Just keep pointing them toward food and you'll have friends for life."
Glancing back to where Crabbe and Goyle were still breaking off spikes, Neville thought for a moment, and then nodded. "I know of a lot of plants that are edible."
* * *
"Now this wee creature," Hagrid said, about the green ball of fluff in his arms, is called a Glibbertyfigg. They're quite sensitive to emotions, you know. If you're happy, this mite will take to you like nobody's business. However, if he feels hatred or any nasty emotions, he'll shock you hard."
Draco spoke up. "You expect us to believe that this dumb animal can tell what we're feeling? That's preposterous. It most likely takes an immediate like or dislike based on scent or something."
For a moment Hagrid frowned before realisation hit him. "Ah, yes, you'd be Malfoy, then." He stepped closer to Draco. "Why don't we do a bit of a demonstration, then?" Scanning the students, he saw Potter standing near the back. "Harry, come here."
When Harry made it to the front of the group, Hagrid thrust the creature into Harry and Malfoy's arms.
"The two of you look the same, smell the same, right? We'll see if this glibbertyfigg can tell you apart."
Draco and Harry looked at one another then down at the furry animal in their arms.
"I do hope I have the end that eats," Draco said, tilting his head down to see if it was true, but literally unable to make heads or tails of the glibbertyfigg.
"Can it, Malfoy," Harry muttered.
With a shrug, Malfoy straightened. After half a minute nothing had happened to either him or Harry.
"Potter, I did need to ask you something," he whispered.
"What?"
"I was wondering if you had a girlfriend."
"No."
"A boyfriend?"
"No!"
The creature stirred a bit in their arms, then resumed its deathlike plop.
Harry leaned closer to Draco. "Why did you want to know?"
"I thought if you did, they might be interested in spending a night with someone who actually knew what they were doing."
Harry glared at Draco. "Why you…OW!"
A loud zap sounded and Harry sprang back, clutching the hand that had held the glibbertfigg.
Hagrid stared with round eyes at Harry then back at Draco.
"Mr. Hagrid," Draco intoned. "I believe I owe you an apology. This creature does possess marvelous attributes. Excellent taste being one of them"
There was a low rumble and Draco looked down at the fluffy animal, and then let out a laugh.
"I think it likes me. It appears to be purring."
* * *
Dinner had been uneventful for Draco. He'd made a few jokes at Potter's expense, but certainly nothing that should have resulted in the blood-curdling yell Potter let out at one point. Okay, perhaps he'd said one or two things.
Hermione and Ron had managed to calm Potter down considerably, so that when Draco had passed him in the Gyffindor common room a few hours before, he'd only uttered a small growl.
Obviously, Potter knew next to nothing about holding a grudge. He'd probably have gotten over it by morning, giving Draco a fresh slate to smudge up.
While doing his nightly preparations for bed, Draco stood naked in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom, examining his new body as he put on lotion. He wondered idly if he should 'Accio' a hand mirror so that he'd have a better view of his backside.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Spinning around he saw Potter staring at him with wide eyes.
"Moisturising. From the terrible condition of your skin, I doubt you've ever heard of it."
"I have heard of it." Potter folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "It's something girls do."
"Do I look like a girl to you?" Malfoy asked, then waved away the remark as Potter's face became flushed with anger. "Wait, don't answer that. I must say, however, that you do have a fairly nice arse." Malfoy twisted so that he could see most of the body part in question. "Not too big, not too flat, firm, and muscular. Must be all that Quidditch." His hands moved behind him, testing the tautness as he spoke.
Harry's face was beginning to redden. "Stop that."
Feigning innocence, Draco met his eyes. "Stop what?"
"Stop… stop touching my arse."
"It's my arse now, thanks to you and your friends." Draco spun so that he faced Harry fully. Bringing a hand up to his chest, he let it slide down his torso until it reached his groin. "This is mine now, too. Not nearly as impressive as the arse, but more than adequate."
Draco watched Harry swallow hard while his face became a fiery shade.
"I wonder…" Draco said, with a calculating air and reached for the lotion. He squirted some on his hand then reached down again, this time stroking. Within a minute he raised his head. "You do grow. Oh, good show, Potter."
Harry pushed off from the wall and charged forward. "Dammit, Malfoy! If you don't stop…"
"You'll what?" Draco interrupted. "Hurt me for having a wank with my new equipment? What an interesting conversation you'll have afterwards with Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall."
Halting in his tracks, Harry gazed on mutely, his fists clenched in frustration.
Malfoy's hand continued to slide up and down. "Tell me you haven't thought of this, Potter."
"Thought of what? Being humiliated by you?"
"No." Draco's voice sunk to a husky whisper. "My hands on you. Touching you."
Harry opened his mouth, but no words emerged, just gurgling sounds. He backed up several steps. Finally, his voice began to work again, though it came out close to a croak. "I-I-I haven't."
"But you're thinking of it now, aren't you Potter. Thinking of me stroking you. Sliding my palm up and down, tightening my grip. If you want it to happen, all you have to do is ask." Malfoy shut his eyes, concentrating on his own actions. A moment later, his lids fluttered open and his gaze met Harry's. "Look how hard I've made you."
Harry's eyes focused on where Malfoy's hand still moved.
Malfoy smiled wickedly. "Not there, Potter."
With dawning horror, Harry's mouth dropped open as he realised his trousers were tented.
Draco watched the Hero of the Wizarding World turn and flee as fast as he could from the bathroom.
His eyes gleaming with triumph, Draco returned his attention to the business at hand.
Chapter 2