Inspired by your Shoe laces
When Blaise, Draco and Goyle decide to rebel against their parents in the most unusual fashion, chaos insures! Featuring Harry Potter’s magic fingers, Leather, shoe laces, funnels and anything else these twisted boys can produce.
Nothing is mine!
warning: fiction rated M, slash.
Chapter one.
Professor Severus Snape wrapped his thick black cloak tighter around his cold shoulders. His footsteps echoed around the bitter dungeon corridors; his wand's glow the only light in the silent gloom. He swept his long greasy hair out of his eyes and turned the corner. He mumbled, his breath coming out in thick white clouds. Potions essays lay on his desk waiting to be marked, he knew. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he would much prefer his comfortable four poster bed in his quarters. Serverus stopped abruptly, hearing a faint drumming sound coming from his Potions class room. He walked slowing towards the room, the glass in the windows of the door vibrating. Faintly, he could hear lyrics being screamed. Serverus raised his wand and pushed open the door.
Loud bass pounded. His ear drums throbbed as an electric guitar screamed of pain and a broken heart. A blond loomed over it, his fingers moving like magic over the chords. The dark-haired bass player leant back in the sexy demeanor all bass players have, supporting a cocky grin. The drummer was sweating, his drumsticks a blur.
The blond cried sad, heart-felt lyrics, his eyes tightly closed. One hand was grasping the potions bottle he appeared to be using as a microphone. It would have looked comical if not for the passion his face portrayed.
The music grew louder and louder. Serverus put his hands over his ears and shouted inaudibly. The electric guitar screeched to a stop, the bass left hanging, the drums stopping promptly.
"Sir, I can explain." said the blond, his hair drenched in sweat. He quickly placed the bottle down.
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. "Punk rock, Malfoy, really?"
Blaise Zabini sat by himself at the Slytherin table, eating scrambled eggs. His eyes were dark from staying up half the night. Professor Snape had made Draco, Goyle and him clean cauldrons well into the morning. He watched Draco and Goyle walk towards him from behind of his dark curtain of a fringe, which he happened to be hiding his tired eyes behind.
"Coffee." grunted Goyle, pulling the pot of said liquid towards him. He slipped into the seat next to Blaise. Malfoy sat down on Blaise’s other side, his eyes barely open.
"Don’t bother saying hello or anything." Blaise said, sarcastically. "Your silence really makes me feel appreciated."
Goyle grunted again, pulling the coffee pot in his arms as Draco tried to reach for it. Blaise smirked as Draco bared his teeth at Goyle.
"My friends." said Blaise to himself. "They have the most amazing conversational skills. Draco, dear chap, don’t you agree?" Blaise asked, sniggering to himself.
"Blaise. Stop. Talking. Retard." Draco drawled, jadedly. Blaise smiled, and continued eating his breakfast.
"I can’t believe Snape made us clean cauldrons." Draco spat suddenly, a new enthusiasm in his voice. "I mean, what is he, some kind of screwy conformist?"
"I don’t think he’s a conformist, Draco. I mean, even sheep wash their hair."
Draco choked on his half-eaten toast. "Blaise! That's a horrid thing to say!" he said, smirking. "Aren't you bass players supposed to have tact?"
"Nah. You have us all wrong. We're meant to be sexy, not tactful."
Goyle scowled. "You're lucky, Blaise. I wish drummers could be stereotyped like that."
"They are." said Pansy Parkinson, who was sitting across the table from them. "Everyone knows drummers are the fat ones!" she said, laughing. Blaise and Draco covered their mouths with their hands. Goyle pouted and looked down at his giant bowl of cornflakes.
"So, how was band practice?" asked Pansy, tossing her black hair over her shoulder, completely ignoring the fact that she had just insulted Goyle.
"Completely unsuccessful!" Draco stated, waving his hands around like a lunatic. Pansy nodded and lit a cigarette in the middle of the school hall, completely ignoring the first years who started coughing. She took a puff and leant her elbows on the table. She looked seriously at the band.
"What do you need?" she asked. "More magical music equipment? Money? Drugs? Bondage gear?"
Draco spluttered. "What are you, our pimp or something?"
"I’m just looking out for my fellow Slytherins!" Pansy said, leering.
"Pansy, can you put out that cigarette? Second hand smoke kills, or so the muggles say." said a nervous looking second year.
"Sod off, cretin!" said Pansy, pushing the boy away. Draco raised an eyebrow.
Pansy inhaled. "So, what’s wrong, then?"
"Well, for one thing, I HATE singing." Draco said. "With a passion.' he added. "And for another, we need a new talent. A new spark. We always said we'd get another singer and guitarist." Draco pointed out, then sighed. "We need someone who is talented like us, you know?"
Pansy chuckled.
"We didn’t start our band to be talented, did we?" Goyle said, quietly. "I mean, we want to rebel and be anti-conformists, don’t we?"
"That’s right, Goyle!" Blaise said, raising his orange juice "To defying our parents and doing what the fuck we want!" he toasted, and the others cheered.
"But Draco, you’re in it for the girls, aren’t you?" Pansy said, batting her eyelashes.
"Me?" said Draco, plucking the fag from her lips. "I’m ‘in it’ because it's what no one expects from me." he said, taking a drag from the cigarette, and stubbing it out in Blaise’s scrambled eggs.
"Hey!" Blaise protested. "I was eating that!"
"When I play music," Draco continued, ignoring Blaise's splutters, "its like someone has set my soul aflame. I feel it pounding through my veins, engulfing my mind like smoke. I feel free." Draco said, and rubbed his eyes. Blaise and Goyle nodded in agreement.
"Looks like you need to audition for a bloody bohemian." Pansy joked.
Draco sat in transfiguration, humming muggle tunes under his breath. He had hummed all the Pink Floyd songs he knew, and had now moved on to the Beatles. He was half way through ‘Yesterday’ when a note appeared on his desk.
Malfoy,
I cannot believe someone of your "high breeding" is humming muggle songs.
That’s got to be against Daddy's rules, hasn’t it?
H.P.
Draco stared at the paper in disbelief. Harry Potter was actually sending notes to him! Not only that, he seemed to be joking with him! Draco looked at Potter, who was sitting two seats in front of him, next to Weasel and the beaver. Potter turned around slowly. He looked at Draco in the eyes and winked. Lips formed the words: ‘Yesterday. Love. Was. Such. An. Easy. Game. To. Play’. He turned back around. Draco pulled out a peace of parchment, and quickly replied to his enemy.
Scarhead,
Do you really think I’m one to follow the rules? My "high breeding" doesn’t prevent me from listening to music; it gives me more right than anyone to listen to it. I am, after all, a part of the "noble" kind.
His Royal Highness,
Draco Stunning-Wonderful-Beautiful-Amazing Malfoy.
Draco floated it over to Potter's desk, making sure not to let the Professor see it. He watched as Potter opened it and read it carefully in silence. He chucked upon reading how Draco signed his name, earning him a disdainful look from Granger the Beaver. Draco laughed, and as Potter look sulkily over his shoulder, he grinned at Malfoy. Suddenly, the bell rang. Draco was almost disappointed to leave his little conversation with Potty, but Blaise had organized the band auditions, and he was looking forward to acting like a snobby judge. Not that it would be that hard.
Draco and Goyle headed towards the dungeons. Only having been back at school for a month, the weather had been quite mild, but as they descended down the staircases towards the dungeons, the air became cold and bitter. Pushing open the door to an empty classroom, Draco strutted in, throwing his head back and announcing,
"Master Malfoy is here. Now, slave-boy Blaise, fetch me a chair!"
Goyle grinned sheepishly. Blaise narrowed his eyes.
"Draco, we all know you would so be the sub in this relationship!"
Draco spluttered. "Like hell I'd let your unholy body come anywhere near this temple!" he spat. The boys laughed, but were stopped by a knock on the door. Blaise rubbed his hands together.
"Auditioners are here!" he said, gleefully. "Let's hope they're not too terrible."
"That was the fourth talentless Hufflepuff first year we've seen today!" Draco declared. "Don’t the midgets realize we're 6th year?" Draco sneered, rubbing his eyes with annoyance.
"Come on, Draco, the one who played the bassoon was...er...ok...ish." Goyle said, sounding a tad unsure.
"He sounded like a constipated elephant!" Blaise said, running a hand through his straight dark hair. "We only have one more musician to see. I’m sure they're the one. Come in!" he called.
Dennis Creevy walked in, carrying a very large bag, from which he produced a bag pipe. All the boys groaned.
Dennis Creevy had just left in tears. Draco had told him, none too politely, that he played like a crippled child who was blind, and who'd had their fingers bitten off by killer harpies. Dennis, apparently, hadn't appreciated it.
"Well, that was a waste of time." Draco said, strumming idly at his guitar.
Blaise sighed. "You're right. Maybe we should just play with three of-"
Blaise was interrupted with a knock at the door. The Slytherins looked at each other.
"Come in!" Blaise called. The thick wooden door opened, and in entered a sixth year boy. His black hair was messy, and he had an electric guitar slung over his back. He plugged it into an amp, while the three other teenagers stared in horror. Turning it up, the young man struck a chord and at once began to play.
His voice was raw but soothing. It floated like mist on the air, but pierced the heart like stinging metal. His fingers played the chords with ease. He sang lyrics that none of the three boys had ever heard before, and the three Slytherins watched in astonishment as he continued and finally concluded his performance. He unplugged the magically enhanced amplifier, and looked at the group.
"You need another band member?" he asked, his voice raspy from screaming the lyrics.
Draco let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
"You wanna be a rock star, aye, Potter?" he smirked.
Harry Potter sniggered. "I could ask you the same question, Malfoy. What does Daddy’s boss say about his servant’s son playing in a muggle band?"
Draco peered at the Boy Who Lived, and raised an eyebrow. "What would your father say, Potter? Oh wait, that’s right you don’t-"
"We would love for you to join us, Potter." Blaise said quickly, cutting Draco off.
"WHAT?" Draco burst out, staring at Blaise incredulously. "Don’t I have a say in this? How are we meant to rebel with a goody-good Gryffindor like Potter in our group? What would our fathers say…wait. This could work." Draco's eyes twinkled mischievously. "What would our fathers say." He rubbed his hands together, looking at Goyle and Blaise. Draco started to mutter, his eyes strangely bright. He laughed loudly for no apparent reason. Goyle shuffled his chair over half a meter away from the boy.
"Riiight." Harry said, giving Draco an anxious glance. "Well, what kind of music do you play?" he asked Blaise, taking the seat farthest away from Draco.
"All sorts, mainly muggle. We don’t agree with the Dark Lord's idea on what's proper and what's not. We have nothing against muggles; they've never done any thing to us." Blaise chirped. "Music wise, I prefer more Alternative rock. You know, Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana, The Pixies...I love anything with a lot of bass. I play bass guitar, and the double bass, though I haven’t played that in years."
Harry nodded. "What about you?" he asked Goyle, who almost fell off his chair in shock from being asked a question by a Gryffindor.
"Well, I play the drums, so ahh I like um, Blink 182, they have good drum solos." he said. "We play a lot of everything. Er, Draco is really into punk, and like punk rock, and he wants to be like anti-conformist all the way." Goyle cast Draco a furtive glance. "He always told me ‘no point being half and half’, choose something and stick with it."
"That’s right Potter. Do you have something against anti-conformist? Gonna call us the Devil's spawn? Accuse us of self harming because we wear black? I'll shove my guitar right up your-"
"So you play guitar?" Harry asked, disturbing Draco’s rant.
"And the harp." Blaise choked out, before silenced by Draco’s glare.
"My father taught me to play the violin, the cello and the harp, Potter. I learnt the guitar on my own."
"I can also play the Maracas." said Goyle helpfully. Harry smiled, trying not to laugh about how much Goyle reminded him of Neville Longbottom.
"What about you?" Draco drawled, his grey eyes coldly watching Harry. "You didn’t charm your guitar or anything, did you?"
"Of course not! Remus Lupin taught me to play on his old acoustic last summer. Then he gave me my godfather’s electric guitar before the term started. I haven’t found anyway to play, though. I didn’t think you could have electronic devises at Hogwarts because of all the magic in the air or something."
"These are magic amps." said Blaise, tapping one with his foot. "Pansy Parkinson's taken a personal interest in our band and managed to get a hold of some. They're the same type the weird sisters had in fourth year at the Yule ball."
"Do you write any songs, Zabini?" Harry asked.
"Nah. Draco writes stuff but he doesn’t like singing it, so we play around with the music but never the lyrics. Now that we have you, we can play some." Blaise said. "If you want to join." he added.
"I do." said Harry. "It’s been ages since I last played. But only if Malfoy wants me, of course?" he said, looking at Draco.
"I don’t want you, Potter, I want your voice." Draco said, stretching his legs onto a desk.
"Great." Blaise said, contentedly. "Harry...can I call you Harry? No point bothering with that entire last name public school boy trash, is there? I’m Blaise, or Blaisey if you buy me a drink." Blaise said with a smirk.
"Gregory," said Goyle, with a look of distaste on his face, "but I’m called Goyle."
"Nonsense!" Blaise declared. "I've never heard anyone call you Goyle in your entire life!"
"You've never called me Gregory before, either!"
"I do so all the time." Blaise stated.
"Never, I would have remembered!" Goyle protested.
"That’s gibberish, Greggy! What are you talking about?"
"Would you two shut up!" Draco interrupted. "Potter and I don’t care if you call each other Honey Buns and Sweetie Pie!"
Blaise snorted.
"I’ve got some music here, Potter. That is, if you don’t have anything planed for tonight?"
Harry’s mind drifted to Hermione and Ron waiting in the common room. He shrugged.
"Sure, why not."
Harry was amazed by the music Draco shaped. He was like an artist; his long pale hands twisting music and moulding it into emotions. Harry could fell the hatred he was weaving with his guitar under Malfoy's strict gaze.
"That was good, Potter. You looked slightly constipated, but it was good."
Of course, just because he was a musical genius didn’t make him less of a smarmy bastard. He went away and started talking to Goyle in low tones, going over a drum solo they had worked together on. He looked like he was trying to explain something. He kept running his hands through his hair. Harry went over his rhythm piece again, learning the chords slowly off by heart. He vaguely wondered what the hatred Draco made him convey was from. The cool beats Harry heard come from Blaise bass in the corner felt vacant, like loneliness or some one waiting for something. His guitar piece was the feeling of hate growing and growing. He could tell by how the notes were written and how they sounded. And he felt he could also tell that Draco had written it from personal experience. Harry looked up and watched Draco bent over his guitar, going over and over a line as if he was tattooing it into his mind, leaving an imprint of the song there forever. Harry heard the faint chords that Draco repeated lightly, and he swore he could hear the tears.
"It's getting late. Do you think we should leave it for tonight?" Blaise said, looking up.
The other three boys nodded tiredly, putting their own instruments down. Draco started going around the room, putting out the candles by slowing blowing on their fiery wicks. Goyle shrunk his drum kit and put it into his bag easily, while Blaise removed a number of silent charms he had cast over the room.
"Hey," said Harry nervously, "Is it ok if we don’t mention the whole band thing in front of Hermione and Ron, or any of the Gryffindors?"
"Not ashamed of us, are you Potter?" Draco sneered.
"No, no, not at all, it's just they don’t really understand the whole muggle music thing. I'll have to kind of ease them into it."
"I thought Granger was a Muggle born?" Goyle asked.
"Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she likes their music." Harry said with sigh. "If she knew I was here, she'd have a heart attack."
"Harry, where have you been?" asked a sleepy Hermione, dressed in her night gown, accompanied by a very drowsy-looking Ron Weasley. Harry had hoped he'd be able to sneak into bed undetected.
"Just out for a walk, there was no need to wait up." Harry lied, and made his way to the dormitory stairs.
"Harry, it's one thirty! You were out walking for seven hours!" Hermione protested.
"I lost track of time, all right?"
"I bet you have a girlfriend! That’s it, isn’t it Harry?" Ron asked, looking a bit aggravated. "I thought you we’re going to get back with Ginny!"
"I never said that." Harry said, through clenched teeth.
"But you and her seemed to have such a nice time during the holidays. Mum was basically planning the wedding and everything, and then you go and dump her for no reason at all!"
"Yes, well…"
"Harry, why do you have that old guitar with you? You always go missing with that thing! Where have you been?" Hermione’s shrill voice asked.
Harry grinded his teeth in frustration "It’s not old, it’s a Fender and it’s signed by Keith Richards."
"Who’s he?" Ron asked, confused.
"He’s a washed up old muggle coot, who’s tripped up half the time on drugs!" Hermione said.
"I think he’s great." Harry said, still speaking through his teeth.
"Harry, this obsession you have with muggle music is getting a bit out of hand. Think of all the time you could have spent on homework or the DA that you wasted playing around with that guitar."
"I like playing muggle music!"
"Harry, you're like me, we came from the muggle world. You should know we have no type of future there; we're needed here! Where our talents can be put to good use! Let the muggles play their muggle music, you’re need to help fight this war!"
"Is that all I am, some sort of weapon? Why can’t I have a muggle future?" Harry demanded.
"Harry, that’s not part of your destiny! What sane person would ever choose a muggle life over a wizard one?" Hermione asked, staring at Harry.
"Lots of wizards like music, and want a musical future!" Harry retorted.
"I’ve never meet a wizard who was a musician before." Hermione stated.
"Well, maybe you need to go out and meet a few people, instead of wasting your nights reading!"
Hermione looked cross, her bushy hair puffing out around her stern face. She went to open her mouth, but Harry beat her to it.
"Look, Hermione, I don’t want to hear it! I always thought you two would be the ones who would support me in anything I wanted to do, but you’re just like Ginny! You expect me to be a hero and kill Voldemort and work for the ministry with a brief case, and have seven children, working nine to five for only two weeks holidays! That’s not what I want to do with my life!" Harry roared.
Harry stormed off, and was half-way through stomping up the dormitory stairs when he heard Hermione shout,
"Then what do you want to do with your life, Harry? Be some washed up muggle musician who has no future?"
Harry shouted back from the top of the stairs. "I just want to feel alive!"
When Ron came up to bed later, he whispered quietly to Harry.
"I’m ok with you playing muggle music on your guitar, Harry. I hear Dennis plays the bagpipes; maybe you could jam with him some time."
Harry cringed at Ron, and how he said jam, and how could he make every thing sound so uncool.
Hermione didn’t talk to Harry at breakfast. Ron tried made awkward conversation before Hermione started talking in whispers with Ginny. Harry was certain they kept throwing him evil glares. Harry didn’t feel guilty about dumping Ginny anymore. It had been foolish to start going out with her in the first place; she had just broken up with Dean and Sirius had only just died. Their expectations of each other were too high. Ginny wanted the hero from the stories her parents had told her as a young child, and Harry simply wanted someone who didn’t have any expectations of him.
"I think Hermione and Ginny are talking about you." Ron whispered.
Harry just grunted.
Late autumn sun was streaming in the great hall's high windows, leaving patterns of sunshine over the house tables. Harry glanced quickly up to see Malfoy and Blaise slink into the great hall and sit next to Pansy Parkinson. Harry vaguely realised that Ron was talking to him.
"I know the Chudley Canons are going to win this year! Don’t you think their bad luck has to be over soon?"
"Maybe." Harry mumbled, looking at Ron’s face which seemed to be shining in hope.
Suddenly a loud cry echoed from the other side of the hall. "WHAT THE FUCK! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING WITH ME! HARRY FUCKING POTTER!"
Harry glanced up to see a very red Pansy Parkinson march towards the Gryffindor table. Harry hoped it wasn’t a butter knife he saw clutched in her hand. Chaos seemed to erupt, and the Gryffindors watched as Blaise Zabini somersaulted over the table gracefully and grabbed Pansy, trying to hold her back. The rest of the Slytherins, quite aware Pansy was about to commit murder, grabbed the nearest food item and started to chuck food across the hall. Hufflepuffs scattered under their house table, while the Ravenclaws tried to alert the proper authorities.
Blaise called out to Goyle in all the confusion, as he jumped up and rolled over the table and jogged to grab hold of Pansy as well. The Gryffindors, who found themselves suddenly bombarded with food sorts, grabbed their own and started throwing them at the Slytherins. The teacher's table had gone mad; Snape and McGonagall were pointing accusing fingers at each other, while the other teachers tried to calm to school down. Dumbledore sat reading the Daily Prophet.
"Damn you, Potter! You ruined my band!" shouted Pansy, and she threw the butter knife seemingly at Harry’s forehead.
The knife soared through the great hall, leaving each table silent. Late autumn light hit the blade, leaving a bright spark of light that fell around the walls before SMACK it hit down on Gryffindor's table, right in between Ronald Weasley's fingers. Ron gulped. Colin Creevy shouted,
"They started throwing cutlery! Throw it back! Throw it back!" Gryffindor blew up, knifes, forks and spoons in hand.
"Stop!" shouted Harry.
Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy stood as well. Harry wondered whether it was to calm down his housemates, or to run away from the soon on-pour of spoons.
"Sorry about this, Harry." Blaise said, still struggling with Pansy a foot away from the Gryffindor table. "She hasn’t had her morning cigarette yet. You hold her for a minute, Goyle." Goyle found the only safe place to hold her: around her neck.
Blaise fumbled through his robes, before pulling out a white cigarette.
"Pansy! Look what I’ve got!" Blaise yelled. Pansy went still in Goyle’s arms, her eyes following the cigarette. Goyle let her go and she grabbed the cigarette from Blaise.
"Light." said Draco, holding out a black cigarette lighter. He had slunk over from Slytherin, holding the lighter under the tip. Pansy looked like she could kiss him.
Gryffindor slowly began to go back to eating their breakfast, besides a small group around Harry Potter. Ron was still staring at the butter knife between his fingers. Hermione put her nose in the air.
"Oh, you’ve told them." said Blaise before he could chase Harry’s bewildered gaze. "I’m glad, because I hate keeping secrets!"
"What has he told us?" asked Hermione, shrilly. Harry’s eyes were wide and he was shaking his head in a scared manner.
"Oh…" said Blaise "I seem to have put my foot in it."
Draco barked a quiet laugh. Blaise peered at him and hushed him immediately.
"I think we'll head back to Slytherin and let you deal with this, Potter." said Draco, smarmily. Goyle muttered a quick "Bye," before chasing after Pansy and Draco. Pansy seemed to be giving Draco an earfull.
"Sorry, Harry." said Blaise, eyeing the red Hermione nervously. "See ya later."
"Harry, what’s going on?" asked Ron, trying desperately to remove the butter knife from its stuck position in the table.
"Let me guess?" said Hermione, angrily. "More secrets! More unexplainable changes of heart!"
"I thought you weren’t talking to me." said Harry coldly. Hermione’s nostrils flared dangerously.
"Harry, we just want to know what’s going on, for your own safety!" Hermione said.
"You really want the truth, Hermione? Fine. I’ve joined a band. With the Slytherins."
0000
Harry sat by himself at lunch. Ron and Hermione had been extremely upset that Harry had been hanging out with Draco Malfoy. They seemed to think he was in league with Voldemort. Harry tried to tell them that Draco really seemed to have had a change of heart. They asked him what proof he had, but Harry had none. Hermione had asked him why he trusted Blaise, who she seemed to think was a very shady character.
"The good-looking ones always are, and I hear he’s bisexual. Its unnatural, I tell you." she had said.
Ron had been angry that Harry seemingly had two new friends, and evil ones as that.
"After all we've been through!" Ron had cried. "You leave me for stuck up rich snobs, just because they like muggle music! They've brain washed you!"
So Harry ate his tomato and cheese sandwich by at lunch, all alone, trying to ignore Hermione, Ginny and Ron's whispering a couple of seats down. He was surprised when a note appeared before his sandwich.
Potter.
Blaise is extremely sorry for breaking up your little Golden Trio. I really couldn't care less. The less talking you do, the better it is for your voice. Blaise says he feels so sorry, he might throw himself off the Astronomy tower. Don’t be shocked, he's tried that before. Thing is, he didn’t realise there was a balcony one floor below. He had a bruised bottom for a week, but nothing seriously damaged. Goyle says hello. Anyway, band practise tonight. Charms room on the fifth floor. Be there.
Malfoy.
Harry smiled weary. At least he had music to take his mind off things, and sort of new friends, even if they were slightly unbalanced.
0000
"Hey, Harry!" Blaise called, as Harry entered the empty charms room they had chosen to meet in. "I'm so sorry about today. I hope I haven’t ruined things too badly."
"Hey, Blaise. Don’t worry about it; things will sort themselves out soon, hopefully. Where are Goyle and Malfoy?"
"Just coming. There’s no hope for Greg, but I really wish you would call Draco "Draco"."
Harry poked out his tongue in distaste. He pulled out a couple of chocolate frogs.
"Want one?" he offered.
Blaise nodded.
"Calling him "Draco" just feels wrong." Harry spat out after he had shovelled down half a chocolate frog.
"It is a bit of an orgasmic name." Blaise said, thoughtfully. Harry nearly choked on the other half of his chocolate frog.
"A what!"
"You know..." Blaise's voice became high pitched, "Ohhh, DRACO! Faster, Draco, faster! I’m so hot right now, Draco! Draco, you’re so big!"
"That’s what I like to hear," said an amused voice from the doorway. There stood Draco, an eyebrow raised. Harry went bright red, his eyes as wide as saucers.
"Draco!" Blaise declared clapping his hands together, trying to pretend he had been doing nothing and failing miserably. "Didn’t see you there."
Draco laughed lightly. "I don’t think I’ll ask." he said, smiling.
Blaise laughed slightly nervously. "That’s good; I don’t think we can explain." he said, and rubbed his head uncertainly.
"Goyle got a detention," Draco went on, his eyebrows still high. "Just us string instruments tonight."
"Oh, well, why don’t I run down to the kitchens and fetch us a couple of butterbeers? It's Friday, we should make a party of it." Blaise said, jumping from his seat. "You two can catch up on stuff, and try to use first names." With that he ran out the door.
Harry gazed at Draco. Who was looking angrily at the door.
"What were you and Blaise doing?" Draco spat at last.
Harry gulped. "He was saying how your name was a…um...an…an orgasmic name."
Draco’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his blonde hair again.
"A what?" he said, the same way Harry had five minutes before.
"A name that’s easy to say when someone…you know, has an orgasm." Harry didn’t think his face could get any redder. He never expected to talk about this subject with anyone, let alone Draco Malfoy. Draco was quiet for a good long while.
"I guess it kind of is." he said his voice breaking the silence. He looked at Harry. "Harry isn’t, really. Unless you roll the r’s. Like..." his voice suddenly become high and heavy, "Harrrry."
Harry went even redder than before. Draco looked thoughtful again. He started saying different names quietly.
"Terrrry Boot!" he said, then shook his head. "Nah, not really. Ronald! Ronald! Ew, no way. Severrrrus!" he moaned, then looked up at Harry.
"Severus is really sexy to say." he chirped. "Try it."
"I will not!" said Harry, indignantly. "That’s disgusting! He’s a teacher!"
"So? It’s not like I’m actually shagging him. Go on, its quite fun."
Harry looked doubtful, and hesitated. "Severus." he said, quietly.
"Louder!" Draco said.
"Severus!" Harry said a bit louder.
"Go on, scream it, Potter, scream it!"
"SEVERUS!" Harry groaned, the name rolling off his tongue like mist over water. Very dirty water.
"SEVERUS!" Draco echoed, his own voice husky and loud.
"Um, excuse me, boys?" piped a small voice from the doorway. Draco and Harry stopped their moaning, and turned to face the voice. Standing there was Professor Flickwick, his arms filled with a stack of white papers. "I need to use this room for marking… um, it is nice to see you boys um getting ahh… along."
Harry and Draco promptly went extremely red, and fled from the classroom, not stopping for two corridors, before collapsing and simultaneously breaking out into hysterical laughter.
"Did you see his face!" Draco choked, tears in his eyes.
"Oh My God! What must he have been thinking?" Harry hugged his stomach. "Come on, lets find Blaise."
"Sure thing… Harrrrrrrrry!"
Harry burst out in another fit of laughter.
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"And so then," said Harry, tears leaking out of his eyes, "He goes-"
Draco took a deep breath. "Nice to see you boys, um, getting along..."
Harry and Draco erupted into new giggles while Blaise waited patiently.
"Oh, very amusing." he said, dryly.
"You had to be there." Draco wheezed. "God! What if Snape had walked in!"
"What if he tells Snape?" Harry said, laughing.
"What if Snape was secretly a vampire?" Blaise said, suddenly looking over his shoulder. Harry and Draco stared, laughing hysterically again.
"Yeah, you laugh, wait till he bites you while you sleep." Draco had to clutch at the wall to keep himself from falling over from laughing so hard. Harry held his stomach in silent mirth.
"Come on, let’s go down to the dungeons and wait for Goyle down there. Pansy wants to talk to you, Harry, anyway." Blaise said, a dozen butterbeers under his arm. Harry gulped.
"Yeah, that calmed you down, didn’t it? You wanna see what else she can do with that knife?"
Draco laughed at the look on Harry’s face.
"To the dungeons? You mean, into Slytherin?" Harry asked, sounding uncertain.
"Don’t worry, Potter, we won't let them rape you." said Draco, walking down the corridor next to Blaise. Harry ran to catch up. He laughed sarcastically. He eyed both boys, and followed them down into the darkness.
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Slytherin Common room, Harry decided, hadn’t changed much since second year, when Ron and he had snuck in as Goyle and Crabbe to ask Draco about the Chamber of Secrets. It was a very big room filled with leather seats and unnatural fires that glowed green. In fact, everything was green besides the black leather, and Pansy Parkinson’s bright pink pyjamas.
"Well, Potter," she slurred, a cigarette in one hand and bottle of amber liquid in the other, "I've had a talk with Blaise, and I've decided I like you. Not like that, though your quidditch-toned muscles are amazing!" she exploded into giggles and handed Draco the bottle before collapsing into Harry’s arms.
"Um, help." he said, clinging to the heavy, supposedly asleep girl.
"She does that every Friday. Just throw her on the couch." Blaise said, fighting with Draco over the bottle.
"Shouldn’t we get a teacher or something? She might need a stomach pump."
Blaise and Draco laughed.
"Don’t worry, Potter. She's one person you don’t have to save." They laughed again and settled themselves by one of the abnormal green fires.
"Won’t the rest of the Slytherin be angry I’m here?" said Harry nervously, glancing at a group of students playing chess.
"They've seen us drag worse down here," said Draco, passing Harry the bottle.
"What’s this?"
"Quit your whining and relax, Harry. It's Friday." Blaise said, happily. Harry took a sip of the strong burning liquid, which left his throat sore.
"I think I'll stick with butterbeer." he said, handing the bourbon back to Blaise.
"You're right. Can’t have any horrid Slytherins taking advantage of your pure Gryffindor body." Blaise leered, grinning.
Harry laughed.
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It was four hours before Goyle angrily stumbled in.
"All I did was kick his ruddy cat!" he grumbled, grabbing the bottle from the now quite tipsy Draco and Blaise, who had just finished telling Harry about one of their many crazy adventures (Draco had pushed Blaise into a plant of pox nettle, and though Harry thought it was hardly an adventure, he laughed along with them. Draco made every story sound amazing.).
"We should have a real adventure!" Harry said, jumping to his feet. Draco and Blaise jumped less than gracefully to their own.
"Let's go to the astronomy tower and try to pee on owls as they fly past!" Blaise shouted.
The three other boys were silent.
"Ew." Draco said at last.
"Why don’t we go to Hogsmeade instead?" suggested Harry.
"How can we get to Hogsmeade, Potter?" Draco asked doubtfully. "The school gates will be locked."
"I know a shortcut under the school. We can go and hang out at the Three Broomsticks or something."
"Don’t you think it would be weird if a bunch of school kids turn up at the pub at ten in their school uniforms?"
"We can get changed." Harry smirked.
"Well, I’m convinced!" Pansy said sitting up. The boys jumped.
"How long have you been awake?" Draco asked as an eyebrow rose.
"I heard the possibility of getting nakkie with you lot and decided what the heck! You need some womanly influence in you life, keep you from turning curvy."
"Curvy?" Harry asked, following the stumbling Pansy and the now more sober Blaise and Draco a some door to the left.
"She means gay." Blaise laughed.
"Too late for that." Goyle mumbled. Draco, Blaise and Pansy all laughed. Pansy reached out and grabbed hold of Harry’s top. She pulled him in toward the leering Draco and Blaise, "I’m gonna give you a make over!"
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Harry had never felt so bloody Slytherin in his entire life. It would have been better if they had turned him into Tom Riddle, stripped him naked, covered his body in dark marks and painted him bright green. Though he might have been a bit chilly, he wouldn’t have had green streaks in his hair. Heavy black eyeliner and pants that he was certain weren’t meant to be this tight, or feel this nice. Pansy had wanted to break out her home piercing kits, but he had flatly refused. He was extremely surprised to see how easily the others submitted to Pansy’s dress-up game. Draco got special treatment, much to the annoyance of Blaise and the jealously of Goyle. Blaise was dressed quickly, all in Italian-made clothes.
"Bring outs your native side." Pansy had said
"I’m, like, ¼ Italian. That's about the same amount as Hagrid's pumpkins."
Blaise also seemed to be dressed in a lot of leather, like that was the only sort of clothes Italians would dream of wearing. Pansy luckily didn’t dress Goyle in any leather, just a Green Day band tee and jeans.
Then Draco. Harry found it hard to explain Draco. He pulled off punk tremendously well. He'd never seemed to dress so extremely when he was younger, but this new Draco, who Harry surveyed with amazed eyes, was completely different, and surprisingly it seemed to suit him perfectly. He looked like a vampire, a tall vampire who had just come back from a Sex Pistols' show. The tips of his blonde hair were purple to match the purple mesh top he wore under his t-shirt. A gothic coat, and leather pants Harry really didn’t want to think about.
Harry had been dressed a lot like the others. Pansy tried to cover up the fact he was Harry Potter by making him look as Slytherin as possible. She was certain no one would recognise them. They hardly ever went into Hogsmeade, apparently, and the Gryffindor hero would be an easy give away they were school children. Harry mentioned that where he came from, only school children wore clothes remotely like this. Well, maybe not the leather pants, but band tees and such. Pansy insisted only well travelled wizards wore clothes so muggle.
So that was what Harry was wearing as he stumbled down the tunnel to Honeydukes. Leather pants, green streaks in his hair, a lose green shirt and a big thick black jacket. His scar charmed away for the night. He had even let Pansy pull a little eye liner on him, and shape his glasses a bit more oval.
"Bloody hell, Potter! How far is it?" Draco wheezed, trying to keep up with Harry's quick strides.
"Yeah, Potter I think I have chafing!" Pansy cried. Serves you right to step outside in such an outfit, Harry thought to him self. Pansy, who was clinging to Blaise's arm, was wearing her night wear. Her very short, tight night wear.
"It’s just up here." Harry said with a shudder.
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Half an hour later, the group sat in a dark corner in the Three Broomsticks drinking fire whiskey, amazed about how unbelievably easy their adventure had been. Harry peered around the pub; it was full and filled with all sorts of weird characters. Pansy was right when she said their clothes wouldn’t stand out. He had seen one Wizard wearing no top and ice skates. So, feeling a lot cockier and more naughty than before, they all smoked openly (besides Harry) and they all talked and told jokes loudly. When they had finished one bottle of fire whiskey, a lot quicker than they should have, Harry stumbled up to the bar to get a drink. He had green hair, who would recognise him? Leaning against the bar he waited for Madam Rosmerta, who was in an angry conversation with short man behind the bar.
"What am I gonna do?" she was saying heatedly. "My customers expect music!"
"It’s not my fault the sisters all caught Spattergroit on the same night!" the little man hissed.
Harry listened intently. He leaned further over the bar when suddenly a great idea hit him. He put on a deep, savvy voice.
"Excuse me, but I think I can help."
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"Guess what! Guess what!" said Harry, dancing over to the Slytherins' table.
"You forgot the fire whiskey, you wanker!" Draco whined.
"Oh, shut up! I got us a gig!"
The band and Pansy immediately turned all their attention on Harry.
"When?"
"Now!" Harry said with a laugh.
"But Harry, you fool! We've never played with you in the band before! Sure, we practised, but that isn’t the same!" Blaise said.
"So? We can just flow with it!" Harry said in drunken belief. "And Madame Rosmerta said if we’re any good, she'd give us a gig every Friday night! And guess what! She’ll pay us!" Harry laughed merrily. "Come on! We better get ready. We go on in five minutes." he said more seriously.
"WHAT!" Draco declared. "Are you mad?"
"Come on Malfoy! We have the talent; I think we can do this!"
"I think you can too." said Pansy quietly, watching Harry.
"Might as well give it a try." said Goyle.
"We don’t have our instruments!" said Draco crossly.
"We can borrow or summon them."
"What song are we gonna play? We haven’t practised, or got any of mine off by heart yet."
"Play a muggle one. You do the music. Do one I know, so I know the lyrics."
"God! This is going to be fun." Blaise said with an insane smile.
"Am I the only sensible one here?" spluttered Draco.
Blaise took Draco’s face in his hands. "Carpe diem." he said. The he said it louder to all of them. "Carpe diem, seize the day!"
"Ah, excuse me." said the short man from the bar. "Are you ready to start?"
"Ah, one minute." Harry said hastily.
"I’ll just introduce you," he said "What’s your band's name?"
"Draco and the fucktards." said Draco rudely.
"Ah, we don’t have a name just yet, we're untitled." said Harry quickly. The man raised and small eyebrow and walked toward the stage.
"First song you can thing of, quick."
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"The Three Broomsticks is proud to present..." the small man chirped into an old broken muggle microphone from the fifties that had been charmed to amplify sound. "Give them a warm round of applause, witches and wizards! Our new band.’ He finished quietly.
Goyle sat quickly down at the drums, while Blaise swung on the base; Draco picked up the unfamiliar Electric guitar and ran his fingers quickly down it.
Harry smoothed his fringe down subconsciously and went to the middle of the stage, taking hold of the microphone.
"Hello," he said, nervously. He cleared his throat. "We're going to play something muggle for you tonight. I hope you enjoy it."
He looked apprehensively at Draco, who stared at Harry through his blonde and purple fringe. He smirked.
‘Ready, Potter?’ he whispered. Harry smiled and Draco strummed the first chord. It rang out into the silent pub, and was then followed by the next, its sharp sound in the pub's smoky air. The drums and base followed soon, their sounds mixing with Draco's guitar. One more rift, Harry thought. His face was turned from the audience as he stared at Draco's long, elegant body and he quietly whispered into the mike, eyes on the blond,
"Coming out of my cage," he sang, his voice getting stronger, "and I’ve been doing just fine," he continued, and turned to face to audience full on, "Gotta gotta be down, because I want it all!"
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"Oh, holy mother of Severus fucking Snape! I nearly shat my pants, I swear!"
Pansy threw her arms around Blaise and Draco. "And Goyle, you were wonderful," she said hugging Goyle tightly. She then turned to Harry. "I never thought I'd say this, Potty, but that was one of the sexiest things I’ve seen in my entire life! And I’ve fucked Draco before he went weird!"
Draco scowled.
Pansy laughed then very quickly hugged Harry and planted a quick peck on his lips. "Your influence is good on my band, Harry. Thanks." She whispered in his ear. "Now let’s get drunk! Well, more so than we already are, if that’s possible!" she said, thumbing on towards the bar.
"You know, it might have been a fluke." said Goyle, looking highly upset that he hadn’t got a kiss.
"Could have been." said Draco, taking a seat in the booth next to Blaise. "It was good though, we all played well together." he said, and pointedly looked at Harry.
"We're gonna need a name, though." Blaise pointed out. "I quite like ‘Draco and the Fucktards.’" he continued, laughing.
Harry and Goyle poked their tongues out.
Blaise lit a cigarette with the black Zippo he had stolen from Draco’s pocket. "What about the Rose Bush Toasters?"
"That makes no sense." said Goyle.
"What about ‘Draco and the Brown Ribbons’?"
"That makes no sense either." said Goyle again.
"Yeah, and why does it have to be Draco’s name? What about Blaise and his fish sticks!"
"Ew, Blaise! That sounds grotty. And why can it be mine or Harry’s name! ‘Goyle and his minions’! I like that!" Goyle said.
"Harry and The Hunchbacks."
"We don’t have hunchbacks!" Draco laughed. "You'd think those glasses would work!"
Harry and the Slytherins laughed. Pansy stumbled over, soon followed by Madame Rosetta. They all leant back into the shadows a bit, and Harry flattened his fringe.
"Wow, you guys, that was great! The crowd loves you. I would love for you to play every second Friday, and you keep the tips, of course. Sorry, I didn’t catch your names."
"I am Iago," said Draco, leaning forward slightly, his voice deeper and accented fakely. "Ve are from Verona, ve vent to a Magic school there and learnt music. This is Romeo," he said, pointing at Blaise. "He speaks no English."
Blaise smiled, pretending to look confused.
"And Angus, our drummer," Draco continued. "Our manager, Nora Macbeth, and Desdemona, our wonderful English singer!”
“Its good to be home,” Said Harry, “I haven’t been back in Hogsmead since I was a kid”
00000
"I can’t believe she believed us." Draco slurred as the band made their way down the tunnel back to Hogwarts.
"I can’t believe you said my name was Desdemona! You do know that’s a girl’s name?"
Draco laughed.
"Hurry up, you two!" shouted Blaise from the end of the tunnel. "Let’s go back to Slytherin and break open a bottle of vodka!"
"I already can’t walk straight!" Harry shouted back, tumbling over an invisible something.
"That’s what you got us Slytherins for!"
"What, getting me drunk?"
"No! Silly Billy goat! Helping you walk! You make real friends with us!" Blaise called.
Draco smiled toothily "We better hurry, Potter. Don’t want them to vodka all the drink!"
Harry woke up with a splitting head ache. He tried to bury himself deeper in his blankets. He inhaled the comforting smell of Italian tomatoes. Wait a second. His bed never smelt of Italian tomatoes. He sat up quickly; he was surrounded by thick green hangings. Just like the ones on the Slytherin beds.
"What happened?" he wondered aloud.
He heard a groan from the pillow next to him, and he turned slowly. The figure sat up and leant the side of their face on their hand, their elbow propped up onto the pillow.
"I think I should be insulted you don’t remember." The voice was slurred.
Harry’s eyes were wide. "What happened?" he asked nervously.
"Well, by the feel of it, I popped your anal cherry." Blaise said with a laugh.
Harry’s hands suddenly clasped his bum checks, and pain spread up his spine.
"But I’m not gay!" he whined.
Blaise laughed. "Sure you're not, big boy."
"Oh my god, this can’t be for real." Harry whispered.
"Look, Harry," said Blaise, sitting up, ‘You’re a great guy and all, but I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t think you are either, so lets just leave it at a one time thing and get over it."
"But I’m not gay!" said Harry again.
"Yes, but you had a lot to drink and shit happens. You can either get over it, tick it off the list of things to do before for you die and go back to chasing pussy, or you can damn us to hell like all the other prejudiced people in this world, quit the band and become a priest. But is it really that big a deal? I mean, it was just a nice night between friends, right?"
"Right." said Harry with a slight smile. "We won’t let it get in the way of the band or our friendship. I do kind of wish I could remember it, though, to tell the truth."
Blaise smiled toothily. He leant forward and placed his lips tenderly on Harry's, and Harry nearly jumped back in fright. Blaise leant forward again, putting his hand on Harry’s face, and licked his tongue across Harry’s bottom lip, sending shivers across Harry’s exposed skin.
"Wait a second," Harry jumped back. "I’m naked!"
Blaise laughed. "Nothing I haven’t seen before." He laughed again "Come on, let's go get some breakfast. I could eat a horse!"
Before Harry could stop him, Blaise pulled back the curtains. Harry winced in the light. He went as red as a radish immediately. Draco, Pansy and Goyle sat on the floor in the room surrounded by bagels and coffee watching Blaise’s bed expectantly.
"Please don’t tell me you’ve been there all night?’ Harry asked, cringing.
"Please tell me you’ve been there all night!" said Pansy chewing on a bagel, her eyes ablaze.
Blaise chucked, "Wouldn’t you like to know," he said, and smiled and nipped at Harry’s ear lope.
"That’s so hot!" Pansy crooned.
"I thought bands are supposed to have rules about sleeping with other members." said Draco with smirk.
Blaise laughed again. "Well, I’ve slept with you, Draco, and we both had sex with Pansy when we were weird, so I don’t think you can talk!"
"Bloody hell, am I the only sane one here?" Goyle sighed, getting up. "I’m off to the showers."
After the door shut, Blaise crawled over Harry (who felt something dangle over his legs and tried not to think about it) and jumped out of bed.
"Bloody hell, its cold!" he said, not caring about his nakedness. "I’m going to surprise Goyle in the showers." he said, running out the door.
Harry was shocked to see that Draco and Pansy didn’t seem to care about the naked ¼ Italian running about the room.
"Is it always this insane?" Harry asked, fearfully.
"More so," said Draco, taking a sip of coffee. "You should have seen the time Blaise woke up with Lavender Brown and Professor Trelawney."
Pansy laughed. "He had red marks over him for weeks"
Harry laughed timidly, hoping they had been joking. "Ah, do you mind turning around while I get changed? I’m kind of naked." he asked them.
Pansy and Draco laughed vivaciously, and both put their hands over their eyes. He could see both of them peeking. Jumping out of bed quickly he grabbed his boxes. Pansy and Draco dropped their hands immediately and watched openly. Draco smirked, an eyebrow raised, while Pansy rested her head in her hands, elbows on crossed knees.
"Fuck, you're hot, Potter!" Draco crooned.
"Do you mind?" Harry hissed
"Not at all." Pansy droned.
Harry very quickly put on his boxes. He found a small bruise on his lower thigh, and an imagine of a dark haired Italian leaning over him, naked, suddenly flashed in his mind as he ran his fingers over it. He shook his head quickly. Though Blaise was extremely good-looking, Harry would never want a relationship with him. And anyway, Harry wasn’t gay.
"I guess I'll see you guys later." Harry said softly to Pansy and Draco as he pulled on his robes.
"I want to see you later!" Pansy chuckled, blowing a kiss.
Harry looked at Pansy and Draco closely. "Oh my god, you two are wearing matching turtle pyjamas! That’s so cute!" he said, and ducked as a bagel came soaring through the air.
"They're tortoises!" Draco shouted, and Harry ran out the door, laughing.
0000
When Harry hobbled into the Gryffindor common room, he was suddenly hit with a hard force. Harry winced as pain spread up his back.
"Harry! I thought you were dead! I was up all night worrying and worrying! I was certain that you'd jumped off a cliff because we weren’t talking to you!"
Harry suddenly felt bad that he hadn’t been as concerned about the fight as they were.
"I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the band, Hermione. I just knew you would be upset."
"I'm just concerned about it, Harry. Do you know anything about these people!"
Harry thought hard. He knew what sort of music they liked and he knew they had good senses of humour. He also knew that a percentage of them fancied the same sex, and that Draco had turtles on his pyjamas that matched Pansy’s. He thought of the things he had done with Blaise the night before and felt a bit sick. He hardy knew anything about him, anything about any of them.
"Harry…?"
"Um, well, they're nice to me. We’re friends."
Hermione sighed. "I’m only looking out for you, Harry!"
"Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Slytherins' barks are worse than their bites, if you know what I mean." Harry felt the little bruise on his thigh sting, and he smiled coyly.
"Come and talk to Ron, then. He’s been ever so upset."
0000
"I made up with Ron and Hermione!" said Harry as he bounded into the door of an empty class room for a band session.
Draco and Pansy snorted.
"Oh, that’s wonderful, Harry! I was feeling ever so guilty!" Blaise had his base already on his lap.
"POTTER! What have you done with your hair?" Pansy shrieked, jumping off the desk she had been lounging on.
"The green went away after a couple of hours." Harry explained.
"Why is it more unruly today?"
"I was playing quidditch all afternoon with Ron."
"Why didn’t you wear a hat?"
She immediately started to hand comb his hair, trying to get it to stay still. "Wanna drink of water?" she asked. "Draco's always thirsty after quidditch."
"Thanks." Harry mumbled, taking a bottle.
"Did your friends ask about the limp?" Draco asked with a smirk.
"Told them I fell over."
"Sorry bout that, Harry." Blaise smiled weakly.
"Nothing to be sorry for, Blaise. I can hardly remember it myself."
"Want me to refresh you memory again?" said Blaise, licking his lips.
Harry laughed. "I’m ok, thanks."
"I know a spell," Pansy said, leaving Harry’s hair and picking up the witch weekly she had been reading, "that restores your memory after a night's drinking."
"No doubt you’ve needed it!" Draco said, grinning.
Pansy ignored him and whipped out her wand. "Ebriusamemor!" she cried, pointing her hand at Harry’s forehead.
Suddenly, images of two dark-haired boys on a gloomy bed surrounded by hangings loomed into his mind. He watched like a movie as the two boys caressed and passionately romped.
Suddenly the class room blinked back into view. Harry was lying on his back surrounded by the band.
"That was hot!" Draco whispered.
"You… you all saw that!" Harry asked.
"Pansy! You little toad!" Blaise shouted.
Pansy smirked. Goyle looked slightly sick, and Draco seemed to be having a battle in his mind.
"Its ok, Blaise. I mean, I’m not embarrassed by it." Harry said softly, getting to his feet. Blaise didn’t look certain.
"Are you sure? I mean, it was your first time with a boy, and I don’t want it to be an uncomfortable memory for you!"
"Its fine." Harry said quietly. "It's a bit weird how we don’t know much about each other, though. I think I'd feel better if I knew more stuff about you guys."
"Like what?" asked Pansy, sitting on the floor.
"Like...I don’t know. Favourite colour?" Harry asked, shrugging his shoulders.
"Neon Pink!"
"Green."
"Green."
"Green."
"Ok, maybe that wasn’t the best question." Harry laughed. The others all settled themselves on the floor too.
"I know! I know!" said Pansy. "First crush."
"Seamus Finnigan." Blaise stated quickly. "He’s a good fuck, too."
"But wait...Seamus isn’t gay!" Harry said, shocked.
"Is that all ever Gryffindors say! I’m not gay, you're not gay, they're not gay, get your hands away from my penis!"
Silence.
"My first crush was Draco!" said Pansy happily, giving said boy a big sloppy kiss on his cheek.
"Ew!" Draco cried. "Bloody hetero!"
"Cho Chang was the first person I ever liked." said Harry, laughing.
"I liked Millicent." Goyle mumbled. Everyone laughed.
"My first crush," said Draco, "believe it or not, was a nameless boy I meet at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions when I was eleven. When I found out who he was, I no longer fancied him, of course, but for the couple of weeks leading up to the start of school, I had many imaginary adventures running around the manor with ‘Lance’, as I had named him."
The others laughed, besides Harry, who had gone bright red.
"That’s so cute!" Pansy cried. "Why did you like him!"
"He didn’t seem to know anything off the things I was telling him. He made me feel like I knew something; I never knew anything that my parents didn’t at home." said Draco, glancing away from Harry. "And he had a cute mop of hair." Draco said, and went red.
The others laughed again.
"I know! What’s your favourite every-flavoured bean?" Draco asked, changing the subject quickly. He glanced up and gave Harry a half smile, who returned it readily.
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An hour later, they were running out of things to say.
"Umm...I know!" Blaise said. "Best girl fuck you've ever had! Goyle?"
"That girl from Durmstrang I dated a while ago." Goyle mumbled.
"You mean that really butch one?"
"I’ll have you know Carmen was extremely flexible."
"Mine was Pansy." said Draco, smiling at her.
"Same." said Blaise.
"Mine was Lavender Brown." Pansy said, smiling.
Silence.
Harry shuddered a bit. "Ginny Weasley, but then she’s the only girl I've ever slept with."
"What, you with all your fame and boyish good looks? I’m surprised you haven’t sleep with half the school!" Pansy proclaimed.
"It’s been a bit harder than that." said Harry. "I mean, I’ve been concerned about Voldemort!"
"Excuses!" Draco laughed.
"Well, you seemed to be quite concerned about Voldemort last year!" Harry protested. "Ok, next question. Why did you lot decided to switch sides? Not fight for the dark?"
Harry noticed they all paled and looked down to their hands.
"Harry," Blaise sighed. "It’s not that easy to talk about."
"We’re friends, aren’t we? I mean, I slept with you, and you can’t even tell me why you’re on this side of the war!" Harry said, starting to get angry. He didn’t want Hermione to be right.
"I just didn’t agree with them." Blaise muttered.
"We didn’t agree with our entire fucking families!" Draco sneered. "I’m a death eater’s child, we all are! We've all seen the war, Potter. We’ve all seen our parents, we’ve all heard them, taunting and killing children just like us! I don’t want to be like that! We may be Slytherins, but we're not killers!"
"I’m sorry." said Harry, quietly. "I just figured it would have been because the robes clashed with your band tees or something." he joked meekly.
The others grinned slight smiles.
"Come on," said Blaise, trying to sound happy. "Let's play some music."
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After three hours of non-stop music, Harry and the others decided to call it a night. Draco, Blaise and Goyle hurried out to their common room, Harry stayed with Pansy to help clean up.
"Is it true what you said about only ever having had sex with the little Weasley?" asked Pansy, fiddling with her wand.
"Yeah," Harry said, nervously. He was certain Pansy's skirt hadn’t been that short a minute ago.
Suddenly, his head felt clouded, and pain spread right through his body leaving him senseless.
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Harry woke up with a splitting head ache. He tried to bury himself deeper in his blankets. He inhaled the comforting smell of peppermint. Wait a second. His bed never smelled of peppermint! He sat up quickly; he was surrounded by thick green hangings. Just like the ones on the Slytherin beds.
"Oh shit, not again!" he mumbled. He turned quickly, and shook the lump beside him. "Wake up, Blaise! Wake up!"
The lump stirred. "I think I should be insulted you don’t remember." said a voice thick with sleep.
"Oh my god!" Harry cried.
Pansy laughed.
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(The spell that Pansy used to help Harry see his memories is from the Latin words Ebrius, drunk and memor which is memories, My Latin teacher would be proud.)
Nothing is mine!
warning: fiction rated M, slash.
Chapter one.
Professor Severus Snape wrapped his thick black cloak tighter around his cold shoulders. His footsteps echoed around the bitter dungeon corridors; his wand's glow the only light in the silent gloom. He swept his long greasy hair out of his eyes and turned the corner. He mumbled, his breath coming out in thick white clouds. Potions essays lay on his desk waiting to be marked, he knew. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he would much prefer his comfortable four poster bed in his quarters. Serverus stopped abruptly, hearing a faint drumming sound coming from his Potions class room. He walked slowing towards the room, the glass in the windows of the door vibrating. Faintly, he could hear lyrics being screamed. Serverus raised his wand and pushed open the door.
Loud bass pounded. His ear drums throbbed as an electric guitar screamed of pain and a broken heart. A blond loomed over it, his fingers moving like magic over the chords. The dark-haired bass player leant back in the sexy demeanor all bass players have, supporting a cocky grin. The drummer was sweating, his drumsticks a blur.
The blond cried sad, heart-felt lyrics, his eyes tightly closed. One hand was grasping the potions bottle he appeared to be using as a microphone. It would have looked comical if not for the passion his face portrayed.
The music grew louder and louder. Serverus put his hands over his ears and shouted inaudibly. The electric guitar screeched to a stop, the bass left hanging, the drums stopping promptly.
"Sir, I can explain." said the blond, his hair drenched in sweat. He quickly placed the bottle down.
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. "Punk rock, Malfoy, really?"
Blaise Zabini sat by himself at the Slytherin table, eating scrambled eggs. His eyes were dark from staying up half the night. Professor Snape had made Draco, Goyle and him clean cauldrons well into the morning. He watched Draco and Goyle walk towards him from behind of his dark curtain of a fringe, which he happened to be hiding his tired eyes behind.
"Coffee." grunted Goyle, pulling the pot of said liquid towards him. He slipped into the seat next to Blaise. Malfoy sat down on Blaise’s other side, his eyes barely open.
"Don’t bother saying hello or anything." Blaise said, sarcastically. "Your silence really makes me feel appreciated."
Goyle grunted again, pulling the coffee pot in his arms as Draco tried to reach for it. Blaise smirked as Draco bared his teeth at Goyle.
"My friends." said Blaise to himself. "They have the most amazing conversational skills. Draco, dear chap, don’t you agree?" Blaise asked, sniggering to himself.
"Blaise. Stop. Talking. Retard." Draco drawled, jadedly. Blaise smiled, and continued eating his breakfast.
"I can’t believe Snape made us clean cauldrons." Draco spat suddenly, a new enthusiasm in his voice. "I mean, what is he, some kind of screwy conformist?"
"I don’t think he’s a conformist, Draco. I mean, even sheep wash their hair."
Draco choked on his half-eaten toast. "Blaise! That's a horrid thing to say!" he said, smirking. "Aren't you bass players supposed to have tact?"
"Nah. You have us all wrong. We're meant to be sexy, not tactful."
Goyle scowled. "You're lucky, Blaise. I wish drummers could be stereotyped like that."
"They are." said Pansy Parkinson, who was sitting across the table from them. "Everyone knows drummers are the fat ones!" she said, laughing. Blaise and Draco covered their mouths with their hands. Goyle pouted and looked down at his giant bowl of cornflakes.
"So, how was band practice?" asked Pansy, tossing her black hair over her shoulder, completely ignoring the fact that she had just insulted Goyle.
"Completely unsuccessful!" Draco stated, waving his hands around like a lunatic. Pansy nodded and lit a cigarette in the middle of the school hall, completely ignoring the first years who started coughing. She took a puff and leant her elbows on the table. She looked seriously at the band.
"What do you need?" she asked. "More magical music equipment? Money? Drugs? Bondage gear?"
Draco spluttered. "What are you, our pimp or something?"
"I’m just looking out for my fellow Slytherins!" Pansy said, leering.
"Pansy, can you put out that cigarette? Second hand smoke kills, or so the muggles say." said a nervous looking second year.
"Sod off, cretin!" said Pansy, pushing the boy away. Draco raised an eyebrow.
Pansy inhaled. "So, what’s wrong, then?"
"Well, for one thing, I HATE singing." Draco said. "With a passion.' he added. "And for another, we need a new talent. A new spark. We always said we'd get another singer and guitarist." Draco pointed out, then sighed. "We need someone who is talented like us, you know?"
Pansy chuckled.
"We didn’t start our band to be talented, did we?" Goyle said, quietly. "I mean, we want to rebel and be anti-conformists, don’t we?"
"That’s right, Goyle!" Blaise said, raising his orange juice "To defying our parents and doing what the fuck we want!" he toasted, and the others cheered.
"But Draco, you’re in it for the girls, aren’t you?" Pansy said, batting her eyelashes.
"Me?" said Draco, plucking the fag from her lips. "I’m ‘in it’ because it's what no one expects from me." he said, taking a drag from the cigarette, and stubbing it out in Blaise’s scrambled eggs.
"Hey!" Blaise protested. "I was eating that!"
"When I play music," Draco continued, ignoring Blaise's splutters, "its like someone has set my soul aflame. I feel it pounding through my veins, engulfing my mind like smoke. I feel free." Draco said, and rubbed his eyes. Blaise and Goyle nodded in agreement.
"Looks like you need to audition for a bloody bohemian." Pansy joked.
Draco sat in transfiguration, humming muggle tunes under his breath. He had hummed all the Pink Floyd songs he knew, and had now moved on to the Beatles. He was half way through ‘Yesterday’ when a note appeared on his desk.
Malfoy,
I cannot believe someone of your "high breeding" is humming muggle songs.
That’s got to be against Daddy's rules, hasn’t it?
H.P.
Draco stared at the paper in disbelief. Harry Potter was actually sending notes to him! Not only that, he seemed to be joking with him! Draco looked at Potter, who was sitting two seats in front of him, next to Weasel and the beaver. Potter turned around slowly. He looked at Draco in the eyes and winked. Lips formed the words: ‘Yesterday. Love. Was. Such. An. Easy. Game. To. Play’. He turned back around. Draco pulled out a peace of parchment, and quickly replied to his enemy.
Scarhead,
Do you really think I’m one to follow the rules? My "high breeding" doesn’t prevent me from listening to music; it gives me more right than anyone to listen to it. I am, after all, a part of the "noble" kind.
His Royal Highness,
Draco Stunning-Wonderful-Beautiful-Amazing Malfoy.
Draco floated it over to Potter's desk, making sure not to let the Professor see it. He watched as Potter opened it and read it carefully in silence. He chucked upon reading how Draco signed his name, earning him a disdainful look from Granger the Beaver. Draco laughed, and as Potter look sulkily over his shoulder, he grinned at Malfoy. Suddenly, the bell rang. Draco was almost disappointed to leave his little conversation with Potty, but Blaise had organized the band auditions, and he was looking forward to acting like a snobby judge. Not that it would be that hard.
Draco and Goyle headed towards the dungeons. Only having been back at school for a month, the weather had been quite mild, but as they descended down the staircases towards the dungeons, the air became cold and bitter. Pushing open the door to an empty classroom, Draco strutted in, throwing his head back and announcing,
"Master Malfoy is here. Now, slave-boy Blaise, fetch me a chair!"
Goyle grinned sheepishly. Blaise narrowed his eyes.
"Draco, we all know you would so be the sub in this relationship!"
Draco spluttered. "Like hell I'd let your unholy body come anywhere near this temple!" he spat. The boys laughed, but were stopped by a knock on the door. Blaise rubbed his hands together.
"Auditioners are here!" he said, gleefully. "Let's hope they're not too terrible."
"That was the fourth talentless Hufflepuff first year we've seen today!" Draco declared. "Don’t the midgets realize we're 6th year?" Draco sneered, rubbing his eyes with annoyance.
"Come on, Draco, the one who played the bassoon was...er...ok...ish." Goyle said, sounding a tad unsure.
"He sounded like a constipated elephant!" Blaise said, running a hand through his straight dark hair. "We only have one more musician to see. I’m sure they're the one. Come in!" he called.
Dennis Creevy walked in, carrying a very large bag, from which he produced a bag pipe. All the boys groaned.
Dennis Creevy had just left in tears. Draco had told him, none too politely, that he played like a crippled child who was blind, and who'd had their fingers bitten off by killer harpies. Dennis, apparently, hadn't appreciated it.
"Well, that was a waste of time." Draco said, strumming idly at his guitar.
Blaise sighed. "You're right. Maybe we should just play with three of-"
Blaise was interrupted with a knock at the door. The Slytherins looked at each other.
"Come in!" Blaise called. The thick wooden door opened, and in entered a sixth year boy. His black hair was messy, and he had an electric guitar slung over his back. He plugged it into an amp, while the three other teenagers stared in horror. Turning it up, the young man struck a chord and at once began to play.
His voice was raw but soothing. It floated like mist on the air, but pierced the heart like stinging metal. His fingers played the chords with ease. He sang lyrics that none of the three boys had ever heard before, and the three Slytherins watched in astonishment as he continued and finally concluded his performance. He unplugged the magically enhanced amplifier, and looked at the group.
"You need another band member?" he asked, his voice raspy from screaming the lyrics.
Draco let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
"You wanna be a rock star, aye, Potter?" he smirked.
Harry Potter sniggered. "I could ask you the same question, Malfoy. What does Daddy’s boss say about his servant’s son playing in a muggle band?"
Draco peered at the Boy Who Lived, and raised an eyebrow. "What would your father say, Potter? Oh wait, that’s right you don’t-"
"We would love for you to join us, Potter." Blaise said quickly, cutting Draco off.
"WHAT?" Draco burst out, staring at Blaise incredulously. "Don’t I have a say in this? How are we meant to rebel with a goody-good Gryffindor like Potter in our group? What would our fathers say…wait. This could work." Draco's eyes twinkled mischievously. "What would our fathers say." He rubbed his hands together, looking at Goyle and Blaise. Draco started to mutter, his eyes strangely bright. He laughed loudly for no apparent reason. Goyle shuffled his chair over half a meter away from the boy.
"Riiight." Harry said, giving Draco an anxious glance. "Well, what kind of music do you play?" he asked Blaise, taking the seat farthest away from Draco.
"All sorts, mainly muggle. We don’t agree with the Dark Lord's idea on what's proper and what's not. We have nothing against muggles; they've never done any thing to us." Blaise chirped. "Music wise, I prefer more Alternative rock. You know, Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana, The Pixies...I love anything with a lot of bass. I play bass guitar, and the double bass, though I haven’t played that in years."
Harry nodded. "What about you?" he asked Goyle, who almost fell off his chair in shock from being asked a question by a Gryffindor.
"Well, I play the drums, so ahh I like um, Blink 182, they have good drum solos." he said. "We play a lot of everything. Er, Draco is really into punk, and like punk rock, and he wants to be like anti-conformist all the way." Goyle cast Draco a furtive glance. "He always told me ‘no point being half and half’, choose something and stick with it."
"That’s right Potter. Do you have something against anti-conformist? Gonna call us the Devil's spawn? Accuse us of self harming because we wear black? I'll shove my guitar right up your-"
"So you play guitar?" Harry asked, disturbing Draco’s rant.
"And the harp." Blaise choked out, before silenced by Draco’s glare.
"My father taught me to play the violin, the cello and the harp, Potter. I learnt the guitar on my own."
"I can also play the Maracas." said Goyle helpfully. Harry smiled, trying not to laugh about how much Goyle reminded him of Neville Longbottom.
"What about you?" Draco drawled, his grey eyes coldly watching Harry. "You didn’t charm your guitar or anything, did you?"
"Of course not! Remus Lupin taught me to play on his old acoustic last summer. Then he gave me my godfather’s electric guitar before the term started. I haven’t found anyway to play, though. I didn’t think you could have electronic devises at Hogwarts because of all the magic in the air or something."
"These are magic amps." said Blaise, tapping one with his foot. "Pansy Parkinson's taken a personal interest in our band and managed to get a hold of some. They're the same type the weird sisters had in fourth year at the Yule ball."
"Do you write any songs, Zabini?" Harry asked.
"Nah. Draco writes stuff but he doesn’t like singing it, so we play around with the music but never the lyrics. Now that we have you, we can play some." Blaise said. "If you want to join." he added.
"I do." said Harry. "It’s been ages since I last played. But only if Malfoy wants me, of course?" he said, looking at Draco.
"I don’t want you, Potter, I want your voice." Draco said, stretching his legs onto a desk.
"Great." Blaise said, contentedly. "Harry...can I call you Harry? No point bothering with that entire last name public school boy trash, is there? I’m Blaise, or Blaisey if you buy me a drink." Blaise said with a smirk.
"Gregory," said Goyle, with a look of distaste on his face, "but I’m called Goyle."
"Nonsense!" Blaise declared. "I've never heard anyone call you Goyle in your entire life!"
"You've never called me Gregory before, either!"
"I do so all the time." Blaise stated.
"Never, I would have remembered!" Goyle protested.
"That’s gibberish, Greggy! What are you talking about?"
"Would you two shut up!" Draco interrupted. "Potter and I don’t care if you call each other Honey Buns and Sweetie Pie!"
Blaise snorted.
"I’ve got some music here, Potter. That is, if you don’t have anything planed for tonight?"
Harry’s mind drifted to Hermione and Ron waiting in the common room. He shrugged.
"Sure, why not."
Harry was amazed by the music Draco shaped. He was like an artist; his long pale hands twisting music and moulding it into emotions. Harry could fell the hatred he was weaving with his guitar under Malfoy's strict gaze.
"That was good, Potter. You looked slightly constipated, but it was good."
Of course, just because he was a musical genius didn’t make him less of a smarmy bastard. He went away and started talking to Goyle in low tones, going over a drum solo they had worked together on. He looked like he was trying to explain something. He kept running his hands through his hair. Harry went over his rhythm piece again, learning the chords slowly off by heart. He vaguely wondered what the hatred Draco made him convey was from. The cool beats Harry heard come from Blaise bass in the corner felt vacant, like loneliness or some one waiting for something. His guitar piece was the feeling of hate growing and growing. He could tell by how the notes were written and how they sounded. And he felt he could also tell that Draco had written it from personal experience. Harry looked up and watched Draco bent over his guitar, going over and over a line as if he was tattooing it into his mind, leaving an imprint of the song there forever. Harry heard the faint chords that Draco repeated lightly, and he swore he could hear the tears.
"It's getting late. Do you think we should leave it for tonight?" Blaise said, looking up.
The other three boys nodded tiredly, putting their own instruments down. Draco started going around the room, putting out the candles by slowing blowing on their fiery wicks. Goyle shrunk his drum kit and put it into his bag easily, while Blaise removed a number of silent charms he had cast over the room.
"Hey," said Harry nervously, "Is it ok if we don’t mention the whole band thing in front of Hermione and Ron, or any of the Gryffindors?"
"Not ashamed of us, are you Potter?" Draco sneered.
"No, no, not at all, it's just they don’t really understand the whole muggle music thing. I'll have to kind of ease them into it."
"I thought Granger was a Muggle born?" Goyle asked.
"Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she likes their music." Harry said with sigh. "If she knew I was here, she'd have a heart attack."
"Harry, where have you been?" asked a sleepy Hermione, dressed in her night gown, accompanied by a very drowsy-looking Ron Weasley. Harry had hoped he'd be able to sneak into bed undetected.
"Just out for a walk, there was no need to wait up." Harry lied, and made his way to the dormitory stairs.
"Harry, it's one thirty! You were out walking for seven hours!" Hermione protested.
"I lost track of time, all right?"
"I bet you have a girlfriend! That’s it, isn’t it Harry?" Ron asked, looking a bit aggravated. "I thought you we’re going to get back with Ginny!"
"I never said that." Harry said, through clenched teeth.
"But you and her seemed to have such a nice time during the holidays. Mum was basically planning the wedding and everything, and then you go and dump her for no reason at all!"
"Yes, well…"
"Harry, why do you have that old guitar with you? You always go missing with that thing! Where have you been?" Hermione’s shrill voice asked.
Harry grinded his teeth in frustration "It’s not old, it’s a Fender and it’s signed by Keith Richards."
"Who’s he?" Ron asked, confused.
"He’s a washed up old muggle coot, who’s tripped up half the time on drugs!" Hermione said.
"I think he’s great." Harry said, still speaking through his teeth.
"Harry, this obsession you have with muggle music is getting a bit out of hand. Think of all the time you could have spent on homework or the DA that you wasted playing around with that guitar."
"I like playing muggle music!"
"Harry, you're like me, we came from the muggle world. You should know we have no type of future there; we're needed here! Where our talents can be put to good use! Let the muggles play their muggle music, you’re need to help fight this war!"
"Is that all I am, some sort of weapon? Why can’t I have a muggle future?" Harry demanded.
"Harry, that’s not part of your destiny! What sane person would ever choose a muggle life over a wizard one?" Hermione asked, staring at Harry.
"Lots of wizards like music, and want a musical future!" Harry retorted.
"I’ve never meet a wizard who was a musician before." Hermione stated.
"Well, maybe you need to go out and meet a few people, instead of wasting your nights reading!"
Hermione looked cross, her bushy hair puffing out around her stern face. She went to open her mouth, but Harry beat her to it.
"Look, Hermione, I don’t want to hear it! I always thought you two would be the ones who would support me in anything I wanted to do, but you’re just like Ginny! You expect me to be a hero and kill Voldemort and work for the ministry with a brief case, and have seven children, working nine to five for only two weeks holidays! That’s not what I want to do with my life!" Harry roared.
Harry stormed off, and was half-way through stomping up the dormitory stairs when he heard Hermione shout,
"Then what do you want to do with your life, Harry? Be some washed up muggle musician who has no future?"
Harry shouted back from the top of the stairs. "I just want to feel alive!"
When Ron came up to bed later, he whispered quietly to Harry.
"I’m ok with you playing muggle music on your guitar, Harry. I hear Dennis plays the bagpipes; maybe you could jam with him some time."
Harry cringed at Ron, and how he said jam, and how could he make every thing sound so uncool.
Hermione didn’t talk to Harry at breakfast. Ron tried made awkward conversation before Hermione started talking in whispers with Ginny. Harry was certain they kept throwing him evil glares. Harry didn’t feel guilty about dumping Ginny anymore. It had been foolish to start going out with her in the first place; she had just broken up with Dean and Sirius had only just died. Their expectations of each other were too high. Ginny wanted the hero from the stories her parents had told her as a young child, and Harry simply wanted someone who didn’t have any expectations of him.
"I think Hermione and Ginny are talking about you." Ron whispered.
Harry just grunted.
Late autumn sun was streaming in the great hall's high windows, leaving patterns of sunshine over the house tables. Harry glanced quickly up to see Malfoy and Blaise slink into the great hall and sit next to Pansy Parkinson. Harry vaguely realised that Ron was talking to him.
"I know the Chudley Canons are going to win this year! Don’t you think their bad luck has to be over soon?"
"Maybe." Harry mumbled, looking at Ron’s face which seemed to be shining in hope.
Suddenly a loud cry echoed from the other side of the hall. "WHAT THE FUCK! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING WITH ME! HARRY FUCKING POTTER!"
Harry glanced up to see a very red Pansy Parkinson march towards the Gryffindor table. Harry hoped it wasn’t a butter knife he saw clutched in her hand. Chaos seemed to erupt, and the Gryffindors watched as Blaise Zabini somersaulted over the table gracefully and grabbed Pansy, trying to hold her back. The rest of the Slytherins, quite aware Pansy was about to commit murder, grabbed the nearest food item and started to chuck food across the hall. Hufflepuffs scattered under their house table, while the Ravenclaws tried to alert the proper authorities.
Blaise called out to Goyle in all the confusion, as he jumped up and rolled over the table and jogged to grab hold of Pansy as well. The Gryffindors, who found themselves suddenly bombarded with food sorts, grabbed their own and started throwing them at the Slytherins. The teacher's table had gone mad; Snape and McGonagall were pointing accusing fingers at each other, while the other teachers tried to calm to school down. Dumbledore sat reading the Daily Prophet.
"Damn you, Potter! You ruined my band!" shouted Pansy, and she threw the butter knife seemingly at Harry’s forehead.
The knife soared through the great hall, leaving each table silent. Late autumn light hit the blade, leaving a bright spark of light that fell around the walls before SMACK it hit down on Gryffindor's table, right in between Ronald Weasley's fingers. Ron gulped. Colin Creevy shouted,
"They started throwing cutlery! Throw it back! Throw it back!" Gryffindor blew up, knifes, forks and spoons in hand.
"Stop!" shouted Harry.
Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy stood as well. Harry wondered whether it was to calm down his housemates, or to run away from the soon on-pour of spoons.
"Sorry about this, Harry." Blaise said, still struggling with Pansy a foot away from the Gryffindor table. "She hasn’t had her morning cigarette yet. You hold her for a minute, Goyle." Goyle found the only safe place to hold her: around her neck.
Blaise fumbled through his robes, before pulling out a white cigarette.
"Pansy! Look what I’ve got!" Blaise yelled. Pansy went still in Goyle’s arms, her eyes following the cigarette. Goyle let her go and she grabbed the cigarette from Blaise.
"Light." said Draco, holding out a black cigarette lighter. He had slunk over from Slytherin, holding the lighter under the tip. Pansy looked like she could kiss him.
Gryffindor slowly began to go back to eating their breakfast, besides a small group around Harry Potter. Ron was still staring at the butter knife between his fingers. Hermione put her nose in the air.
"Oh, you’ve told them." said Blaise before he could chase Harry’s bewildered gaze. "I’m glad, because I hate keeping secrets!"
"What has he told us?" asked Hermione, shrilly. Harry’s eyes were wide and he was shaking his head in a scared manner.
"Oh…" said Blaise "I seem to have put my foot in it."
Draco barked a quiet laugh. Blaise peered at him and hushed him immediately.
"I think we'll head back to Slytherin and let you deal with this, Potter." said Draco, smarmily. Goyle muttered a quick "Bye," before chasing after Pansy and Draco. Pansy seemed to be giving Draco an earfull.
"Sorry, Harry." said Blaise, eyeing the red Hermione nervously. "See ya later."
"Harry, what’s going on?" asked Ron, trying desperately to remove the butter knife from its stuck position in the table.
"Let me guess?" said Hermione, angrily. "More secrets! More unexplainable changes of heart!"
"I thought you weren’t talking to me." said Harry coldly. Hermione’s nostrils flared dangerously.
"Harry, we just want to know what’s going on, for your own safety!" Hermione said.
"You really want the truth, Hermione? Fine. I’ve joined a band. With the Slytherins."
0000
Harry sat by himself at lunch. Ron and Hermione had been extremely upset that Harry had been hanging out with Draco Malfoy. They seemed to think he was in league with Voldemort. Harry tried to tell them that Draco really seemed to have had a change of heart. They asked him what proof he had, but Harry had none. Hermione had asked him why he trusted Blaise, who she seemed to think was a very shady character.
"The good-looking ones always are, and I hear he’s bisexual. Its unnatural, I tell you." she had said.
Ron had been angry that Harry seemingly had two new friends, and evil ones as that.
"After all we've been through!" Ron had cried. "You leave me for stuck up rich snobs, just because they like muggle music! They've brain washed you!"
So Harry ate his tomato and cheese sandwich by at lunch, all alone, trying to ignore Hermione, Ginny and Ron's whispering a couple of seats down. He was surprised when a note appeared before his sandwich.
Potter.
Blaise is extremely sorry for breaking up your little Golden Trio. I really couldn't care less. The less talking you do, the better it is for your voice. Blaise says he feels so sorry, he might throw himself off the Astronomy tower. Don’t be shocked, he's tried that before. Thing is, he didn’t realise there was a balcony one floor below. He had a bruised bottom for a week, but nothing seriously damaged. Goyle says hello. Anyway, band practise tonight. Charms room on the fifth floor. Be there.
Malfoy.
Harry smiled weary. At least he had music to take his mind off things, and sort of new friends, even if they were slightly unbalanced.
0000
"Hey, Harry!" Blaise called, as Harry entered the empty charms room they had chosen to meet in. "I'm so sorry about today. I hope I haven’t ruined things too badly."
"Hey, Blaise. Don’t worry about it; things will sort themselves out soon, hopefully. Where are Goyle and Malfoy?"
"Just coming. There’s no hope for Greg, but I really wish you would call Draco "Draco"."
Harry poked out his tongue in distaste. He pulled out a couple of chocolate frogs.
"Want one?" he offered.
Blaise nodded.
"Calling him "Draco" just feels wrong." Harry spat out after he had shovelled down half a chocolate frog.
"It is a bit of an orgasmic name." Blaise said, thoughtfully. Harry nearly choked on the other half of his chocolate frog.
"A what!"
"You know..." Blaise's voice became high pitched, "Ohhh, DRACO! Faster, Draco, faster! I’m so hot right now, Draco! Draco, you’re so big!"
"That’s what I like to hear," said an amused voice from the doorway. There stood Draco, an eyebrow raised. Harry went bright red, his eyes as wide as saucers.
"Draco!" Blaise declared clapping his hands together, trying to pretend he had been doing nothing and failing miserably. "Didn’t see you there."
Draco laughed lightly. "I don’t think I’ll ask." he said, smiling.
Blaise laughed slightly nervously. "That’s good; I don’t think we can explain." he said, and rubbed his head uncertainly.
"Goyle got a detention," Draco went on, his eyebrows still high. "Just us string instruments tonight."
"Oh, well, why don’t I run down to the kitchens and fetch us a couple of butterbeers? It's Friday, we should make a party of it." Blaise said, jumping from his seat. "You two can catch up on stuff, and try to use first names." With that he ran out the door.
Harry gazed at Draco. Who was looking angrily at the door.
"What were you and Blaise doing?" Draco spat at last.
Harry gulped. "He was saying how your name was a…um...an…an orgasmic name."
Draco’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his blonde hair again.
"A what?" he said, the same way Harry had five minutes before.
"A name that’s easy to say when someone…you know, has an orgasm." Harry didn’t think his face could get any redder. He never expected to talk about this subject with anyone, let alone Draco Malfoy. Draco was quiet for a good long while.
"I guess it kind of is." he said his voice breaking the silence. He looked at Harry. "Harry isn’t, really. Unless you roll the r’s. Like..." his voice suddenly become high and heavy, "Harrrry."
Harry went even redder than before. Draco looked thoughtful again. He started saying different names quietly.
"Terrrry Boot!" he said, then shook his head. "Nah, not really. Ronald! Ronald! Ew, no way. Severrrrus!" he moaned, then looked up at Harry.
"Severus is really sexy to say." he chirped. "Try it."
"I will not!" said Harry, indignantly. "That’s disgusting! He’s a teacher!"
"So? It’s not like I’m actually shagging him. Go on, its quite fun."
Harry looked doubtful, and hesitated. "Severus." he said, quietly.
"Louder!" Draco said.
"Severus!" Harry said a bit louder.
"Go on, scream it, Potter, scream it!"
"SEVERUS!" Harry groaned, the name rolling off his tongue like mist over water. Very dirty water.
"SEVERUS!" Draco echoed, his own voice husky and loud.
"Um, excuse me, boys?" piped a small voice from the doorway. Draco and Harry stopped their moaning, and turned to face the voice. Standing there was Professor Flickwick, his arms filled with a stack of white papers. "I need to use this room for marking… um, it is nice to see you boys um getting ahh… along."
Harry and Draco promptly went extremely red, and fled from the classroom, not stopping for two corridors, before collapsing and simultaneously breaking out into hysterical laughter.
"Did you see his face!" Draco choked, tears in his eyes.
"Oh My God! What must he have been thinking?" Harry hugged his stomach. "Come on, lets find Blaise."
"Sure thing… Harrrrrrrrry!"
Harry burst out in another fit of laughter.
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"And so then," said Harry, tears leaking out of his eyes, "He goes-"
Draco took a deep breath. "Nice to see you boys, um, getting along..."
Harry and Draco erupted into new giggles while Blaise waited patiently.
"Oh, very amusing." he said, dryly.
"You had to be there." Draco wheezed. "God! What if Snape had walked in!"
"What if he tells Snape?" Harry said, laughing.
"What if Snape was secretly a vampire?" Blaise said, suddenly looking over his shoulder. Harry and Draco stared, laughing hysterically again.
"Yeah, you laugh, wait till he bites you while you sleep." Draco had to clutch at the wall to keep himself from falling over from laughing so hard. Harry held his stomach in silent mirth.
"Come on, let’s go down to the dungeons and wait for Goyle down there. Pansy wants to talk to you, Harry, anyway." Blaise said, a dozen butterbeers under his arm. Harry gulped.
"Yeah, that calmed you down, didn’t it? You wanna see what else she can do with that knife?"
Draco laughed at the look on Harry’s face.
"To the dungeons? You mean, into Slytherin?" Harry asked, sounding uncertain.
"Don’t worry, Potter, we won't let them rape you." said Draco, walking down the corridor next to Blaise. Harry ran to catch up. He laughed sarcastically. He eyed both boys, and followed them down into the darkness.
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Slytherin Common room, Harry decided, hadn’t changed much since second year, when Ron and he had snuck in as Goyle and Crabbe to ask Draco about the Chamber of Secrets. It was a very big room filled with leather seats and unnatural fires that glowed green. In fact, everything was green besides the black leather, and Pansy Parkinson’s bright pink pyjamas.
"Well, Potter," she slurred, a cigarette in one hand and bottle of amber liquid in the other, "I've had a talk with Blaise, and I've decided I like you. Not like that, though your quidditch-toned muscles are amazing!" she exploded into giggles and handed Draco the bottle before collapsing into Harry’s arms.
"Um, help." he said, clinging to the heavy, supposedly asleep girl.
"She does that every Friday. Just throw her on the couch." Blaise said, fighting with Draco over the bottle.
"Shouldn’t we get a teacher or something? She might need a stomach pump."
Blaise and Draco laughed.
"Don’t worry, Potter. She's one person you don’t have to save." They laughed again and settled themselves by one of the abnormal green fires.
"Won’t the rest of the Slytherin be angry I’m here?" said Harry nervously, glancing at a group of students playing chess.
"They've seen us drag worse down here," said Draco, passing Harry the bottle.
"What’s this?"
"Quit your whining and relax, Harry. It's Friday." Blaise said, happily. Harry took a sip of the strong burning liquid, which left his throat sore.
"I think I'll stick with butterbeer." he said, handing the bourbon back to Blaise.
"You're right. Can’t have any horrid Slytherins taking advantage of your pure Gryffindor body." Blaise leered, grinning.
Harry laughed.
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It was four hours before Goyle angrily stumbled in.
"All I did was kick his ruddy cat!" he grumbled, grabbing the bottle from the now quite tipsy Draco and Blaise, who had just finished telling Harry about one of their many crazy adventures (Draco had pushed Blaise into a plant of pox nettle, and though Harry thought it was hardly an adventure, he laughed along with them. Draco made every story sound amazing.).
"We should have a real adventure!" Harry said, jumping to his feet. Draco and Blaise jumped less than gracefully to their own.
"Let's go to the astronomy tower and try to pee on owls as they fly past!" Blaise shouted.
The three other boys were silent.
"Ew." Draco said at last.
"Why don’t we go to Hogsmeade instead?" suggested Harry.
"How can we get to Hogsmeade, Potter?" Draco asked doubtfully. "The school gates will be locked."
"I know a shortcut under the school. We can go and hang out at the Three Broomsticks or something."
"Don’t you think it would be weird if a bunch of school kids turn up at the pub at ten in their school uniforms?"
"We can get changed." Harry smirked.
"Well, I’m convinced!" Pansy said sitting up. The boys jumped.
"How long have you been awake?" Draco asked as an eyebrow rose.
"I heard the possibility of getting nakkie with you lot and decided what the heck! You need some womanly influence in you life, keep you from turning curvy."
"Curvy?" Harry asked, following the stumbling Pansy and the now more sober Blaise and Draco a some door to the left.
"She means gay." Blaise laughed.
"Too late for that." Goyle mumbled. Draco, Blaise and Pansy all laughed. Pansy reached out and grabbed hold of Harry’s top. She pulled him in toward the leering Draco and Blaise, "I’m gonna give you a make over!"
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Harry had never felt so bloody Slytherin in his entire life. It would have been better if they had turned him into Tom Riddle, stripped him naked, covered his body in dark marks and painted him bright green. Though he might have been a bit chilly, he wouldn’t have had green streaks in his hair. Heavy black eyeliner and pants that he was certain weren’t meant to be this tight, or feel this nice. Pansy had wanted to break out her home piercing kits, but he had flatly refused. He was extremely surprised to see how easily the others submitted to Pansy’s dress-up game. Draco got special treatment, much to the annoyance of Blaise and the jealously of Goyle. Blaise was dressed quickly, all in Italian-made clothes.
"Bring outs your native side." Pansy had said
"I’m, like, ¼ Italian. That's about the same amount as Hagrid's pumpkins."
Blaise also seemed to be dressed in a lot of leather, like that was the only sort of clothes Italians would dream of wearing. Pansy luckily didn’t dress Goyle in any leather, just a Green Day band tee and jeans.
Then Draco. Harry found it hard to explain Draco. He pulled off punk tremendously well. He'd never seemed to dress so extremely when he was younger, but this new Draco, who Harry surveyed with amazed eyes, was completely different, and surprisingly it seemed to suit him perfectly. He looked like a vampire, a tall vampire who had just come back from a Sex Pistols' show. The tips of his blonde hair were purple to match the purple mesh top he wore under his t-shirt. A gothic coat, and leather pants Harry really didn’t want to think about.
Harry had been dressed a lot like the others. Pansy tried to cover up the fact he was Harry Potter by making him look as Slytherin as possible. She was certain no one would recognise them. They hardly ever went into Hogsmeade, apparently, and the Gryffindor hero would be an easy give away they were school children. Harry mentioned that where he came from, only school children wore clothes remotely like this. Well, maybe not the leather pants, but band tees and such. Pansy insisted only well travelled wizards wore clothes so muggle.
So that was what Harry was wearing as he stumbled down the tunnel to Honeydukes. Leather pants, green streaks in his hair, a lose green shirt and a big thick black jacket. His scar charmed away for the night. He had even let Pansy pull a little eye liner on him, and shape his glasses a bit more oval.
"Bloody hell, Potter! How far is it?" Draco wheezed, trying to keep up with Harry's quick strides.
"Yeah, Potter I think I have chafing!" Pansy cried. Serves you right to step outside in such an outfit, Harry thought to him self. Pansy, who was clinging to Blaise's arm, was wearing her night wear. Her very short, tight night wear.
"It’s just up here." Harry said with a shudder.
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Half an hour later, the group sat in a dark corner in the Three Broomsticks drinking fire whiskey, amazed about how unbelievably easy their adventure had been. Harry peered around the pub; it was full and filled with all sorts of weird characters. Pansy was right when she said their clothes wouldn’t stand out. He had seen one Wizard wearing no top and ice skates. So, feeling a lot cockier and more naughty than before, they all smoked openly (besides Harry) and they all talked and told jokes loudly. When they had finished one bottle of fire whiskey, a lot quicker than they should have, Harry stumbled up to the bar to get a drink. He had green hair, who would recognise him? Leaning against the bar he waited for Madam Rosmerta, who was in an angry conversation with short man behind the bar.
"What am I gonna do?" she was saying heatedly. "My customers expect music!"
"It’s not my fault the sisters all caught Spattergroit on the same night!" the little man hissed.
Harry listened intently. He leaned further over the bar when suddenly a great idea hit him. He put on a deep, savvy voice.
"Excuse me, but I think I can help."
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"Guess what! Guess what!" said Harry, dancing over to the Slytherins' table.
"You forgot the fire whiskey, you wanker!" Draco whined.
"Oh, shut up! I got us a gig!"
The band and Pansy immediately turned all their attention on Harry.
"When?"
"Now!" Harry said with a laugh.
"But Harry, you fool! We've never played with you in the band before! Sure, we practised, but that isn’t the same!" Blaise said.
"So? We can just flow with it!" Harry said in drunken belief. "And Madame Rosmerta said if we’re any good, she'd give us a gig every Friday night! And guess what! She’ll pay us!" Harry laughed merrily. "Come on! We better get ready. We go on in five minutes." he said more seriously.
"WHAT!" Draco declared. "Are you mad?"
"Come on Malfoy! We have the talent; I think we can do this!"
"I think you can too." said Pansy quietly, watching Harry.
"Might as well give it a try." said Goyle.
"We don’t have our instruments!" said Draco crossly.
"We can borrow or summon them."
"What song are we gonna play? We haven’t practised, or got any of mine off by heart yet."
"Play a muggle one. You do the music. Do one I know, so I know the lyrics."
"God! This is going to be fun." Blaise said with an insane smile.
"Am I the only sensible one here?" spluttered Draco.
Blaise took Draco’s face in his hands. "Carpe diem." he said. The he said it louder to all of them. "Carpe diem, seize the day!"
"Ah, excuse me." said the short man from the bar. "Are you ready to start?"
"Ah, one minute." Harry said hastily.
"I’ll just introduce you," he said "What’s your band's name?"
"Draco and the fucktards." said Draco rudely.
"Ah, we don’t have a name just yet, we're untitled." said Harry quickly. The man raised and small eyebrow and walked toward the stage.
"First song you can thing of, quick."
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"The Three Broomsticks is proud to present..." the small man chirped into an old broken muggle microphone from the fifties that had been charmed to amplify sound. "Give them a warm round of applause, witches and wizards! Our new band.’ He finished quietly.
Goyle sat quickly down at the drums, while Blaise swung on the base; Draco picked up the unfamiliar Electric guitar and ran his fingers quickly down it.
Harry smoothed his fringe down subconsciously and went to the middle of the stage, taking hold of the microphone.
"Hello," he said, nervously. He cleared his throat. "We're going to play something muggle for you tonight. I hope you enjoy it."
He looked apprehensively at Draco, who stared at Harry through his blonde and purple fringe. He smirked.
‘Ready, Potter?’ he whispered. Harry smiled and Draco strummed the first chord. It rang out into the silent pub, and was then followed by the next, its sharp sound in the pub's smoky air. The drums and base followed soon, their sounds mixing with Draco's guitar. One more rift, Harry thought. His face was turned from the audience as he stared at Draco's long, elegant body and he quietly whispered into the mike, eyes on the blond,
"Coming out of my cage," he sang, his voice getting stronger, "and I’ve been doing just fine," he continued, and turned to face to audience full on, "Gotta gotta be down, because I want it all!"
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"Oh, holy mother of Severus fucking Snape! I nearly shat my pants, I swear!"
Pansy threw her arms around Blaise and Draco. "And Goyle, you were wonderful," she said hugging Goyle tightly. She then turned to Harry. "I never thought I'd say this, Potty, but that was one of the sexiest things I’ve seen in my entire life! And I’ve fucked Draco before he went weird!"
Draco scowled.
Pansy laughed then very quickly hugged Harry and planted a quick peck on his lips. "Your influence is good on my band, Harry. Thanks." She whispered in his ear. "Now let’s get drunk! Well, more so than we already are, if that’s possible!" she said, thumbing on towards the bar.
"You know, it might have been a fluke." said Goyle, looking highly upset that he hadn’t got a kiss.
"Could have been." said Draco, taking a seat in the booth next to Blaise. "It was good though, we all played well together." he said, and pointedly looked at Harry.
"We're gonna need a name, though." Blaise pointed out. "I quite like ‘Draco and the Fucktards.’" he continued, laughing.
Harry and Goyle poked their tongues out.
Blaise lit a cigarette with the black Zippo he had stolen from Draco’s pocket. "What about the Rose Bush Toasters?"
"That makes no sense." said Goyle.
"What about ‘Draco and the Brown Ribbons’?"
"That makes no sense either." said Goyle again.
"Yeah, and why does it have to be Draco’s name? What about Blaise and his fish sticks!"
"Ew, Blaise! That sounds grotty. And why can it be mine or Harry’s name! ‘Goyle and his minions’! I like that!" Goyle said.
"Harry and The Hunchbacks."
"We don’t have hunchbacks!" Draco laughed. "You'd think those glasses would work!"
Harry and the Slytherins laughed. Pansy stumbled over, soon followed by Madame Rosetta. They all leant back into the shadows a bit, and Harry flattened his fringe.
"Wow, you guys, that was great! The crowd loves you. I would love for you to play every second Friday, and you keep the tips, of course. Sorry, I didn’t catch your names."
"I am Iago," said Draco, leaning forward slightly, his voice deeper and accented fakely. "Ve are from Verona, ve vent to a Magic school there and learnt music. This is Romeo," he said, pointing at Blaise. "He speaks no English."
Blaise smiled, pretending to look confused.
"And Angus, our drummer," Draco continued. "Our manager, Nora Macbeth, and Desdemona, our wonderful English singer!”
“Its good to be home,” Said Harry, “I haven’t been back in Hogsmead since I was a kid”
00000
"I can’t believe she believed us." Draco slurred as the band made their way down the tunnel back to Hogwarts.
"I can’t believe you said my name was Desdemona! You do know that’s a girl’s name?"
Draco laughed.
"Hurry up, you two!" shouted Blaise from the end of the tunnel. "Let’s go back to Slytherin and break open a bottle of vodka!"
"I already can’t walk straight!" Harry shouted back, tumbling over an invisible something.
"That’s what you got us Slytherins for!"
"What, getting me drunk?"
"No! Silly Billy goat! Helping you walk! You make real friends with us!" Blaise called.
Draco smiled toothily "We better hurry, Potter. Don’t want them to vodka all the drink!"
Harry woke up with a splitting head ache. He tried to bury himself deeper in his blankets. He inhaled the comforting smell of Italian tomatoes. Wait a second. His bed never smelt of Italian tomatoes. He sat up quickly; he was surrounded by thick green hangings. Just like the ones on the Slytherin beds.
"What happened?" he wondered aloud.
He heard a groan from the pillow next to him, and he turned slowly. The figure sat up and leant the side of their face on their hand, their elbow propped up onto the pillow.
"I think I should be insulted you don’t remember." The voice was slurred.
Harry’s eyes were wide. "What happened?" he asked nervously.
"Well, by the feel of it, I popped your anal cherry." Blaise said with a laugh.
Harry’s hands suddenly clasped his bum checks, and pain spread up his spine.
"But I’m not gay!" he whined.
Blaise laughed. "Sure you're not, big boy."
"Oh my god, this can’t be for real." Harry whispered.
"Look, Harry," said Blaise, sitting up, ‘You’re a great guy and all, but I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t think you are either, so lets just leave it at a one time thing and get over it."
"But I’m not gay!" said Harry again.
"Yes, but you had a lot to drink and shit happens. You can either get over it, tick it off the list of things to do before for you die and go back to chasing pussy, or you can damn us to hell like all the other prejudiced people in this world, quit the band and become a priest. But is it really that big a deal? I mean, it was just a nice night between friends, right?"
"Right." said Harry with a slight smile. "We won’t let it get in the way of the band or our friendship. I do kind of wish I could remember it, though, to tell the truth."
Blaise smiled toothily. He leant forward and placed his lips tenderly on Harry's, and Harry nearly jumped back in fright. Blaise leant forward again, putting his hand on Harry’s face, and licked his tongue across Harry’s bottom lip, sending shivers across Harry’s exposed skin.
"Wait a second," Harry jumped back. "I’m naked!"
Blaise laughed. "Nothing I haven’t seen before." He laughed again "Come on, let's go get some breakfast. I could eat a horse!"
Before Harry could stop him, Blaise pulled back the curtains. Harry winced in the light. He went as red as a radish immediately. Draco, Pansy and Goyle sat on the floor in the room surrounded by bagels and coffee watching Blaise’s bed expectantly.
"Please don’t tell me you’ve been there all night?’ Harry asked, cringing.
"Please tell me you’ve been there all night!" said Pansy chewing on a bagel, her eyes ablaze.
Blaise chucked, "Wouldn’t you like to know," he said, and smiled and nipped at Harry’s ear lope.
"That’s so hot!" Pansy crooned.
"I thought bands are supposed to have rules about sleeping with other members." said Draco with smirk.
Blaise laughed again. "Well, I’ve slept with you, Draco, and we both had sex with Pansy when we were weird, so I don’t think you can talk!"
"Bloody hell, am I the only sane one here?" Goyle sighed, getting up. "I’m off to the showers."
After the door shut, Blaise crawled over Harry (who felt something dangle over his legs and tried not to think about it) and jumped out of bed.
"Bloody hell, its cold!" he said, not caring about his nakedness. "I’m going to surprise Goyle in the showers." he said, running out the door.
Harry was shocked to see that Draco and Pansy didn’t seem to care about the naked ¼ Italian running about the room.
"Is it always this insane?" Harry asked, fearfully.
"More so," said Draco, taking a sip of coffee. "You should have seen the time Blaise woke up with Lavender Brown and Professor Trelawney."
Pansy laughed. "He had red marks over him for weeks"
Harry laughed timidly, hoping they had been joking. "Ah, do you mind turning around while I get changed? I’m kind of naked." he asked them.
Pansy and Draco laughed vivaciously, and both put their hands over their eyes. He could see both of them peeking. Jumping out of bed quickly he grabbed his boxes. Pansy and Draco dropped their hands immediately and watched openly. Draco smirked, an eyebrow raised, while Pansy rested her head in her hands, elbows on crossed knees.
"Fuck, you're hot, Potter!" Draco crooned.
"Do you mind?" Harry hissed
"Not at all." Pansy droned.
Harry very quickly put on his boxes. He found a small bruise on his lower thigh, and an imagine of a dark haired Italian leaning over him, naked, suddenly flashed in his mind as he ran his fingers over it. He shook his head quickly. Though Blaise was extremely good-looking, Harry would never want a relationship with him. And anyway, Harry wasn’t gay.
"I guess I'll see you guys later." Harry said softly to Pansy and Draco as he pulled on his robes.
"I want to see you later!" Pansy chuckled, blowing a kiss.
Harry looked at Pansy and Draco closely. "Oh my god, you two are wearing matching turtle pyjamas! That’s so cute!" he said, and ducked as a bagel came soaring through the air.
"They're tortoises!" Draco shouted, and Harry ran out the door, laughing.
0000
When Harry hobbled into the Gryffindor common room, he was suddenly hit with a hard force. Harry winced as pain spread up his back.
"Harry! I thought you were dead! I was up all night worrying and worrying! I was certain that you'd jumped off a cliff because we weren’t talking to you!"
Harry suddenly felt bad that he hadn’t been as concerned about the fight as they were.
"I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the band, Hermione. I just knew you would be upset."
"I'm just concerned about it, Harry. Do you know anything about these people!"
Harry thought hard. He knew what sort of music they liked and he knew they had good senses of humour. He also knew that a percentage of them fancied the same sex, and that Draco had turtles on his pyjamas that matched Pansy’s. He thought of the things he had done with Blaise the night before and felt a bit sick. He hardy knew anything about him, anything about any of them.
"Harry…?"
"Um, well, they're nice to me. We’re friends."
Hermione sighed. "I’m only looking out for you, Harry!"
"Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Slytherins' barks are worse than their bites, if you know what I mean." Harry felt the little bruise on his thigh sting, and he smiled coyly.
"Come and talk to Ron, then. He’s been ever so upset."
0000
"I made up with Ron and Hermione!" said Harry as he bounded into the door of an empty class room for a band session.
Draco and Pansy snorted.
"Oh, that’s wonderful, Harry! I was feeling ever so guilty!" Blaise had his base already on his lap.
"POTTER! What have you done with your hair?" Pansy shrieked, jumping off the desk she had been lounging on.
"The green went away after a couple of hours." Harry explained.
"Why is it more unruly today?"
"I was playing quidditch all afternoon with Ron."
"Why didn’t you wear a hat?"
She immediately started to hand comb his hair, trying to get it to stay still. "Wanna drink of water?" she asked. "Draco's always thirsty after quidditch."
"Thanks." Harry mumbled, taking a bottle.
"Did your friends ask about the limp?" Draco asked with a smirk.
"Told them I fell over."
"Sorry bout that, Harry." Blaise smiled weakly.
"Nothing to be sorry for, Blaise. I can hardly remember it myself."
"Want me to refresh you memory again?" said Blaise, licking his lips.
Harry laughed. "I’m ok, thanks."
"I know a spell," Pansy said, leaving Harry’s hair and picking up the witch weekly she had been reading, "that restores your memory after a night's drinking."
"No doubt you’ve needed it!" Draco said, grinning.
Pansy ignored him and whipped out her wand. "Ebriusamemor!" she cried, pointing her hand at Harry’s forehead.
Suddenly, images of two dark-haired boys on a gloomy bed surrounded by hangings loomed into his mind. He watched like a movie as the two boys caressed and passionately romped.
Suddenly the class room blinked back into view. Harry was lying on his back surrounded by the band.
"That was hot!" Draco whispered.
"You… you all saw that!" Harry asked.
"Pansy! You little toad!" Blaise shouted.
Pansy smirked. Goyle looked slightly sick, and Draco seemed to be having a battle in his mind.
"Its ok, Blaise. I mean, I’m not embarrassed by it." Harry said softly, getting to his feet. Blaise didn’t look certain.
"Are you sure? I mean, it was your first time with a boy, and I don’t want it to be an uncomfortable memory for you!"
"Its fine." Harry said quietly. "It's a bit weird how we don’t know much about each other, though. I think I'd feel better if I knew more stuff about you guys."
"Like what?" asked Pansy, sitting on the floor.
"Like...I don’t know. Favourite colour?" Harry asked, shrugging his shoulders.
"Neon Pink!"
"Green."
"Green."
"Green."
"Ok, maybe that wasn’t the best question." Harry laughed. The others all settled themselves on the floor too.
"I know! I know!" said Pansy. "First crush."
"Seamus Finnigan." Blaise stated quickly. "He’s a good fuck, too."
"But wait...Seamus isn’t gay!" Harry said, shocked.
"Is that all ever Gryffindors say! I’m not gay, you're not gay, they're not gay, get your hands away from my penis!"
Silence.
"My first crush was Draco!" said Pansy happily, giving said boy a big sloppy kiss on his cheek.
"Ew!" Draco cried. "Bloody hetero!"
"Cho Chang was the first person I ever liked." said Harry, laughing.
"I liked Millicent." Goyle mumbled. Everyone laughed.
"My first crush," said Draco, "believe it or not, was a nameless boy I meet at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions when I was eleven. When I found out who he was, I no longer fancied him, of course, but for the couple of weeks leading up to the start of school, I had many imaginary adventures running around the manor with ‘Lance’, as I had named him."
The others laughed, besides Harry, who had gone bright red.
"That’s so cute!" Pansy cried. "Why did you like him!"
"He didn’t seem to know anything off the things I was telling him. He made me feel like I knew something; I never knew anything that my parents didn’t at home." said Draco, glancing away from Harry. "And he had a cute mop of hair." Draco said, and went red.
The others laughed again.
"I know! What’s your favourite every-flavoured bean?" Draco asked, changing the subject quickly. He glanced up and gave Harry a half smile, who returned it readily.
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An hour later, they were running out of things to say.
"Umm...I know!" Blaise said. "Best girl fuck you've ever had! Goyle?"
"That girl from Durmstrang I dated a while ago." Goyle mumbled.
"You mean that really butch one?"
"I’ll have you know Carmen was extremely flexible."
"Mine was Pansy." said Draco, smiling at her.
"Same." said Blaise.
"Mine was Lavender Brown." Pansy said, smiling.
Silence.
Harry shuddered a bit. "Ginny Weasley, but then she’s the only girl I've ever slept with."
"What, you with all your fame and boyish good looks? I’m surprised you haven’t sleep with half the school!" Pansy proclaimed.
"It’s been a bit harder than that." said Harry. "I mean, I’ve been concerned about Voldemort!"
"Excuses!" Draco laughed.
"Well, you seemed to be quite concerned about Voldemort last year!" Harry protested. "Ok, next question. Why did you lot decided to switch sides? Not fight for the dark?"
Harry noticed they all paled and looked down to their hands.
"Harry," Blaise sighed. "It’s not that easy to talk about."
"We’re friends, aren’t we? I mean, I slept with you, and you can’t even tell me why you’re on this side of the war!" Harry said, starting to get angry. He didn’t want Hermione to be right.
"I just didn’t agree with them." Blaise muttered.
"We didn’t agree with our entire fucking families!" Draco sneered. "I’m a death eater’s child, we all are! We've all seen the war, Potter. We’ve all seen our parents, we’ve all heard them, taunting and killing children just like us! I don’t want to be like that! We may be Slytherins, but we're not killers!"
"I’m sorry." said Harry, quietly. "I just figured it would have been because the robes clashed with your band tees or something." he joked meekly.
The others grinned slight smiles.
"Come on," said Blaise, trying to sound happy. "Let's play some music."
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After three hours of non-stop music, Harry and the others decided to call it a night. Draco, Blaise and Goyle hurried out to their common room, Harry stayed with Pansy to help clean up.
"Is it true what you said about only ever having had sex with the little Weasley?" asked Pansy, fiddling with her wand.
"Yeah," Harry said, nervously. He was certain Pansy's skirt hadn’t been that short a minute ago.
Suddenly, his head felt clouded, and pain spread right through his body leaving him senseless.
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Harry woke up with a splitting head ache. He tried to bury himself deeper in his blankets. He inhaled the comforting smell of peppermint. Wait a second. His bed never smelled of peppermint! He sat up quickly; he was surrounded by thick green hangings. Just like the ones on the Slytherin beds.
"Oh shit, not again!" he mumbled. He turned quickly, and shook the lump beside him. "Wake up, Blaise! Wake up!"
The lump stirred. "I think I should be insulted you don’t remember." said a voice thick with sleep.
"Oh my god!" Harry cried.
Pansy laughed.
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(The spell that Pansy used to help Harry see his memories is from the Latin words Ebrius, drunk and memor which is memories, My Latin teacher would be proud.)