Chapter nine.
Edited: Whoops! Went back and fixed something that both Hydrangea and I missed.
******
"So, everything's all right, then?"
To the casual observer, Ron Weasley, out on his nightly rounds of the fifth floor's deserted halls, would appear to be speaking to thin air. And if two sets of footsteps sounded in the quiet of the sleeping school, it could be put down to echoes within the drafty corridors.
"Not everything, no," said Harry, his head bowed beneath the fabric of his Invisibility Cloak. "I mean, I'm still snogging Malfoy, aren't I? And enjoying it. But between us? Yeah."
"Good," Ron sighed with relief. "Is there anything I can help with? Not that I want to hear about what you and Malfoy get up to, mind you..."
"No, Ron." Harry shook his head and the air rippled with the shifting fabric. "I've got to figure this out on my own."
"All right, then."
They came to a cross in the corridor and Ron paused. "You coming?"
"No, I think I'd like to walk on my own for a little while. You mind?"
"Nah," Ron smiled. "See you back at Gryffindor?"
"Sure," Harry nodded, even though he knew Ron couldn't see.
With a wave, Ron departed, choosing the hallway to their left. Harry glanced between the remaining two, and started down the one leading to the stairs. He supposed that mindlessly browsing the armor gallery might help him to think.
Taking the stairs in a slow, loping gait, Harry thought about his current situation. He'd pretty much come to terms with the fact that kissing Malfoy was rather pleasant. He'd also decided that whatever questions that raised about his sexuality could wait until after the sociopath who wanted to kill him had been dealt with.
But there still remained the issue that Harry was a virgin, and he wasn't certain that he wanted his first sexual experience to be with someone he didn't even like. Not that he had a choice, he reminded himself bitterly.
Left to his resentful thoughts, Harry didn't notice the figure rounding the doorway of the trophy room until it was too late. He collided with something hard and pointy and it squawked.
Harry stumbled back a few steps and looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing a few feet in front of him, dazed and rubbing his rapidly swelling nose. He raised his wand and waved it about defensively, his eyes suspicious and a little scared.
"Who's there?" he demanded, as though he expected an answer.
Harry smirked behind his cloak, remembering their Third Year, when he'd frightened the piss out of Malfoy in a situation much like this one. Intending to simply step around the other boy and continue with his walk, he was surprised when Malfoy followed the sound of movement and shouted, "Accio wand!"
Harry gasped as his wand flew from his pocket and the momentum behind it carried the cloak with it. Both objects flew smoothly into Malfoy's outstretched hand. Caught fair and square, he shoved his hands into his pockets and waited for Malfoy to start talking, which would undoubtedly be soon.
"So, Potter," Malfoy drawled, wrapping the fabric of Harry's cloak around the fingers of his left hand. He tucked Harry's wand into the side of his trousers, while keeping his own wand trained on Harry himself. "Out after hours? And caught with a forbidden magical object, no less. Perhaps I should inform Mr. Filch?"
"Give me back my cloak, Malfoy." Harry said tightly. The sight of such a cherished object in Malfoy's hands sent an uncomfortable skitter though his stomach.
"Oh, I don't think so." Draco smirked. "You know, I've always wanted an Invisibility Cloak. I think I'll just take yours."
"Give it back, Malfoy." Harry took a threatening step forward, and drew up short when Draco pointed his wand at his chin.
"Stay back, or I'll be forced to hex you. I think you'd be surprised at the array of spells that Professor Snape has authorized Slytherin Prefects to use against students... especially Gryffindor students."
"I just want my cloak," Harry began, trying to reason with him. "You can keep my wand, and report me to whomever you like, but just give me back my cloak."
"Make me," Malfoy smiled nastily.
Harry hesitated, the wand in his face a tricky thing to maneuver around. Malfoy must've mistaken his silence, however, because in the next moment his smile turned into a look of disgust.
"Ew! Not like that, Potter!" he said loudly.
"Not what?" Harry asked, genuinely confused.
"That's disgusting!" Malfoy continued, as if Harry had the slightest clue what he was talking about. "Look, whatever I may be forced to do with you in class-"
"I didn't say anything like that, Malfoy," Harry told him, annoyed.
"No, but you were thinking it!" Draco accused.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, I was n- Look, just give it to me!"
Harry lunged for his cloak, taking care to dodge to his left to avoid the wand pointed in his direction. Draco wasn't expecting him to move so suddenly, and tried to bring his aim back around. He only succeeded in whacking the side of Harry's head with his forearm. Harry caught a corner of his cloak and tugged, forcing Malfoy to stumble. Overbalancing, Draco grabbed onto the other end of cloak for support.
"Let go!" Harry shouted, heaving backwards.
"No!" Draco shouted back, tugging back.
"Careful, you're going to rip it!" Harry warned, his eyes wide and distraught behind his glasses.
"What do I care?" Draco sneered, and shrugged.
And that's when Harry caught sight of it. The same purple mark from earlier, there, just above Malfoy's collar. He could barely see it peaking above the stiff white fabric of Malfoy's undershirt, but it was there, and Harry stared.
"What...?" Draco asked cautiously, craning his neck to try and catch a glimpse of what was holding Harry's interest.
Harry looked up from his preoccupation with Malfoy's neck and drew a deep breath. The cloak was held limply in his hands, nearly forgotten, as Draco looked back at him. Both boys fell into silence, and whatever squabble they'd been having was no longer important. Harry felt as though smoke were filling his lungs, hot and choking. Draco swallowed, his eyes doing the thing where they flicked from one side of Harry's face to the other, as though he was weighing his options. Harry felt the insane urge to kiss him, and took a step forward...
"Don't!" Draco nearly shouted, backing away hastily.
Harry stopped, feeling frustrated and angry. Draco was staring at him with a pleading look on his face, silently asking Harry not to bring this thing between them here, out into the open, where it would be more real somehow. This wasn't class, nothing was expected of them, it wasn't okay to do this here.
Cursing, Harry turned on his heel and walked a few steps steps away, dragging his hands through his hair. Turning back around, he stalked forward and watched as Malfoy shrunk back from him. All he could see were wide, anticipating gray eyes and inviting lips. Clenching his teeth, Harry snatched his cloak out of Draco's nerveless fingers, yanked his wand from the waistband of his trousers, and turned back the way he'd come. He wasn't in the mood to look at suits of armor anymore.
He heard Draco shouting at his back in a high, trembling voice, deducting the maximum points possible as a Prefect from Gryffindor.
***
Parvati Patil's perfectly executed carrying whisper, entirely unique to teenage girls, flew over the Gryffindor table the next morning like a very annoying bird.
"Lavender, are you reading what I think you're reading?"
Lavender Brown colored, shooting her best friend a challenging look over her copy of Witch Weekly, before continuing to read.
"'Fifty Ways To Please Your Wizard'?" Parvati read the article's title aloud. "Lavender, I hope you're only reading that for theoretical educational value."
At that, Lavender turned an even deeper shade of pink.
"Lavender! You're not thinking of-"
"So what if I am?" the blonde girl asked, tilting her chin up defiantly.
"Not with Neville? Oh, really, Lavender, please! I know that you have to do things with him in that class, but you don't have to... to make sure he likes it!"
"What if I want to make sure he likes it, Parvati?" Lavender asked, closing her magazine and carefully setting it aside.
"Why would you want to?" the darker girl asked, her nose scrunched up in distaste.
"Because he's not a bad bloke!" said Lavender defensively. "He's not like other boys. Neville Longbottom is a gentleman."
Sniffing huffily, Lavender resumed her reading, leaving a very bewildered Parvati Patil staring at her breakfast.
Across the table, Hermione smiled. "Remind me to ask Neville what he did to knock some sense into that girl's head."
Ron snickered, and Harry said nothing as he continued to stare at the cover of Lavender's copy of Witch Weekly. On it was a witch and wizard, caught up in each other's arms and smiling, obviously caught in a moment of lover's silliness. Next to the photo read the caption, "Want to know what he really likes? We polled fifty wizards on their favorite things a witch can do in the bedroom. Read more inside!"
When the time came for the Gryffindors to make their way to their first classes, Harry walked a few steps behind Lavender, his eyes fastened on the corner of the glossy magazine sticking out of her bag. Glancing around to make sure he wouldn't be noticed, he whispered a quick, "Accio!" and the magazine flew smoothly into his hand.
Tucking it discreetly into his bag, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione and joined in the discussion about NEWT exams.
******
Next chapter.
******
"So, everything's all right, then?"
To the casual observer, Ron Weasley, out on his nightly rounds of the fifth floor's deserted halls, would appear to be speaking to thin air. And if two sets of footsteps sounded in the quiet of the sleeping school, it could be put down to echoes within the drafty corridors.
"Not everything, no," said Harry, his head bowed beneath the fabric of his Invisibility Cloak. "I mean, I'm still snogging Malfoy, aren't I? And enjoying it. But between us? Yeah."
"Good," Ron sighed with relief. "Is there anything I can help with? Not that I want to hear about what you and Malfoy get up to, mind you..."
"No, Ron." Harry shook his head and the air rippled with the shifting fabric. "I've got to figure this out on my own."
"All right, then."
They came to a cross in the corridor and Ron paused. "You coming?"
"No, I think I'd like to walk on my own for a little while. You mind?"
"Nah," Ron smiled. "See you back at Gryffindor?"
"Sure," Harry nodded, even though he knew Ron couldn't see.
With a wave, Ron departed, choosing the hallway to their left. Harry glanced between the remaining two, and started down the one leading to the stairs. He supposed that mindlessly browsing the armor gallery might help him to think.
Taking the stairs in a slow, loping gait, Harry thought about his current situation. He'd pretty much come to terms with the fact that kissing Malfoy was rather pleasant. He'd also decided that whatever questions that raised about his sexuality could wait until after the sociopath who wanted to kill him had been dealt with.
But there still remained the issue that Harry was a virgin, and he wasn't certain that he wanted his first sexual experience to be with someone he didn't even like. Not that he had a choice, he reminded himself bitterly.
Left to his resentful thoughts, Harry didn't notice the figure rounding the doorway of the trophy room until it was too late. He collided with something hard and pointy and it squawked.
Harry stumbled back a few steps and looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing a few feet in front of him, dazed and rubbing his rapidly swelling nose. He raised his wand and waved it about defensively, his eyes suspicious and a little scared.
"Who's there?" he demanded, as though he expected an answer.
Harry smirked behind his cloak, remembering their Third Year, when he'd frightened the piss out of Malfoy in a situation much like this one. Intending to simply step around the other boy and continue with his walk, he was surprised when Malfoy followed the sound of movement and shouted, "Accio wand!"
Harry gasped as his wand flew from his pocket and the momentum behind it carried the cloak with it. Both objects flew smoothly into Malfoy's outstretched hand. Caught fair and square, he shoved his hands into his pockets and waited for Malfoy to start talking, which would undoubtedly be soon.
"So, Potter," Malfoy drawled, wrapping the fabric of Harry's cloak around the fingers of his left hand. He tucked Harry's wand into the side of his trousers, while keeping his own wand trained on Harry himself. "Out after hours? And caught with a forbidden magical object, no less. Perhaps I should inform Mr. Filch?"
"Give me back my cloak, Malfoy." Harry said tightly. The sight of such a cherished object in Malfoy's hands sent an uncomfortable skitter though his stomach.
"Oh, I don't think so." Draco smirked. "You know, I've always wanted an Invisibility Cloak. I think I'll just take yours."
"Give it back, Malfoy." Harry took a threatening step forward, and drew up short when Draco pointed his wand at his chin.
"Stay back, or I'll be forced to hex you. I think you'd be surprised at the array of spells that Professor Snape has authorized Slytherin Prefects to use against students... especially Gryffindor students."
"I just want my cloak," Harry began, trying to reason with him. "You can keep my wand, and report me to whomever you like, but just give me back my cloak."
"Make me," Malfoy smiled nastily.
Harry hesitated, the wand in his face a tricky thing to maneuver around. Malfoy must've mistaken his silence, however, because in the next moment his smile turned into a look of disgust.
"Ew! Not like that, Potter!" he said loudly.
"Not what?" Harry asked, genuinely confused.
"That's disgusting!" Malfoy continued, as if Harry had the slightest clue what he was talking about. "Look, whatever I may be forced to do with you in class-"
"I didn't say anything like that, Malfoy," Harry told him, annoyed.
"No, but you were thinking it!" Draco accused.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, I was n- Look, just give it to me!"
Harry lunged for his cloak, taking care to dodge to his left to avoid the wand pointed in his direction. Draco wasn't expecting him to move so suddenly, and tried to bring his aim back around. He only succeeded in whacking the side of Harry's head with his forearm. Harry caught a corner of his cloak and tugged, forcing Malfoy to stumble. Overbalancing, Draco grabbed onto the other end of cloak for support.
"Let go!" Harry shouted, heaving backwards.
"No!" Draco shouted back, tugging back.
"Careful, you're going to rip it!" Harry warned, his eyes wide and distraught behind his glasses.
"What do I care?" Draco sneered, and shrugged.
And that's when Harry caught sight of it. The same purple mark from earlier, there, just above Malfoy's collar. He could barely see it peaking above the stiff white fabric of Malfoy's undershirt, but it was there, and Harry stared.
"What...?" Draco asked cautiously, craning his neck to try and catch a glimpse of what was holding Harry's interest.
Harry looked up from his preoccupation with Malfoy's neck and drew a deep breath. The cloak was held limply in his hands, nearly forgotten, as Draco looked back at him. Both boys fell into silence, and whatever squabble they'd been having was no longer important. Harry felt as though smoke were filling his lungs, hot and choking. Draco swallowed, his eyes doing the thing where they flicked from one side of Harry's face to the other, as though he was weighing his options. Harry felt the insane urge to kiss him, and took a step forward...
"Don't!" Draco nearly shouted, backing away hastily.
Harry stopped, feeling frustrated and angry. Draco was staring at him with a pleading look on his face, silently asking Harry not to bring this thing between them here, out into the open, where it would be more real somehow. This wasn't class, nothing was expected of them, it wasn't okay to do this here.
Cursing, Harry turned on his heel and walked a few steps steps away, dragging his hands through his hair. Turning back around, he stalked forward and watched as Malfoy shrunk back from him. All he could see were wide, anticipating gray eyes and inviting lips. Clenching his teeth, Harry snatched his cloak out of Draco's nerveless fingers, yanked his wand from the waistband of his trousers, and turned back the way he'd come. He wasn't in the mood to look at suits of armor anymore.
He heard Draco shouting at his back in a high, trembling voice, deducting the maximum points possible as a Prefect from Gryffindor.
***
Parvati Patil's perfectly executed carrying whisper, entirely unique to teenage girls, flew over the Gryffindor table the next morning like a very annoying bird.
"Lavender, are you reading what I think you're reading?"
Lavender Brown colored, shooting her best friend a challenging look over her copy of Witch Weekly, before continuing to read.
"'Fifty Ways To Please Your Wizard'?" Parvati read the article's title aloud. "Lavender, I hope you're only reading that for theoretical educational value."
At that, Lavender turned an even deeper shade of pink.
"Lavender! You're not thinking of-"
"So what if I am?" the blonde girl asked, tilting her chin up defiantly.
"Not with Neville? Oh, really, Lavender, please! I know that you have to do things with him in that class, but you don't have to... to make sure he likes it!"
"What if I want to make sure he likes it, Parvati?" Lavender asked, closing her magazine and carefully setting it aside.
"Why would you want to?" the darker girl asked, her nose scrunched up in distaste.
"Because he's not a bad bloke!" said Lavender defensively. "He's not like other boys. Neville Longbottom is a gentleman."
Sniffing huffily, Lavender resumed her reading, leaving a very bewildered Parvati Patil staring at her breakfast.
Across the table, Hermione smiled. "Remind me to ask Neville what he did to knock some sense into that girl's head."
Ron snickered, and Harry said nothing as he continued to stare at the cover of Lavender's copy of Witch Weekly. On it was a witch and wizard, caught up in each other's arms and smiling, obviously caught in a moment of lover's silliness. Next to the photo read the caption, "Want to know what he really likes? We polled fifty wizards on their favorite things a witch can do in the bedroom. Read more inside!"
When the time came for the Gryffindors to make their way to their first classes, Harry walked a few steps behind Lavender, his eyes fastened on the corner of the glossy magazine sticking out of her bag. Glancing around to make sure he wouldn't be noticed, he whispered a quick, "Accio!" and the magazine flew smoothly into his hand.
Tucking it discreetly into his bag, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione and joined in the discussion about NEWT exams.
******
Next chapter.