Indebted [H/D, rated R] - Part 3/3
Title: Indebted
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sesheta66
Beta:cleo_jay
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Word Count: 22.6K
Summary: Potter is a target again, but why won't anyone believe Draco? Desperate to rid himself of the life debt he owes Potter, he takes matters into his own hands. As usual, nothing goes as planned.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Indebted - Part 3
*~*~*
Harry watched Malfoy tense, and knew he'd thought of something. But he wasn't sharing. And now, after Malfoy's shameless attempt at diversion had caused heat to flood Harry's face, he knew Malfoy was hiding something. Well, Harry could play games too.
He turned his head slowly, until their lips were a mere breath apart. He looked from Malfoy's eyes to his mouth, then back. He ran his tongue over his lips, all the while watching Malfoy for a reaction. The hitch in his breath and the fact he hadn't moved away spoke volumes. Harry smirked. "I can assure you, Malfoy, I have quite interesting dreams." Malfoy's eyes widened. "Especially when you're in them."
Then, without another word, he stood up and brushed the grass off his trousers. "Shall we do something about this situation, then?"
Malfoy's face was now as red as Harry's felt and his pupils were so dilated they nearly took over his irises. It was a good look on him. "W-what do you have in mind?"
Several ideas that had absolutely nothing to do with figuring out what was going on, and everything to do with discovering what lay beneath those Slytherin robes, ran before Harry's mind. He dismissed them for the moment. "Let's see what lies beyond the grounds. See if Hogsmeade has some answers."
Harry tried not to read too much into the look on Malfoy's face. If asked, he'd have described it as disappointment, but since he couldn't read people to save his life, he didn't want to get his hopes up.
Had he just thought that? After that fumbling disaster that was his attempt at a kiss, did he really want to go down that road again? No, he didn't. At least not the way it had happened that day. Malfoy's reaction just now suggested he might want the same thing, but Harry couldn't be sure.
He reached his hand out and when Malfoy took it, Harry hauled him to his feet. "To Hogsmeade."
*~*~*
Had Potter nearly kissed him again? Draco was flustered, not sure what was going on. He'd watched Potter run his tongue along his lips and he'd had to suppress a whimper. He'd wanted desperately to close the distance between them, take that tongue into his own mouth and taste Potter. But before he could do anything, Potter had jumped to his feet.
When he'd suggested they do something about this, Draco had thought he meant something promising. But then his words brought Draco back to reality. Potter was having him on, trying to disorient him, though Draco couldn't imagine why. And now he wanted to go to Hogsmeade?
He took Potter's hand and was promptly hauled to his feet.
They walked in silence to the edge of the castle grounds and stepped onto the path leading to town.
And found themselves standing in the Room of Requirement.
"What the --?" Potter said.
"Well, fuck me."
They tried again and once more found themselves in the Room. They tried the Hogsmeade path, through the forest, over the hills, and each time they reached the edge of the grounds, one more step found them back in the Room.
"What's going on, Malfoy?" Potter asked after the fourth time. "I know you're hiding something."
Draco deflated, knowing this was it. This was the end. He had to tell Potter what he'd done, Potter would hate him forever, and he'd probably have to leave the school. What he would do after that would be anyone's guess.
Sighing, he admitted, "I did this."
Potter crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Draco. "Yeah, I'd worked that much out for myself, thanks. Now tell me what you did."
And Draco told him. Only, instead of getting angry with him, Potter seemed to calm as Draco explained himself.
"You did this for me?"
Draco, dumbfounded by Potter's reaction, merely nodded.
"But why would you do something so stupid?"
Draco's back stiffened. Here it came. "You wouldn't listen to me."
"What?"
"I told you people wanted you dead, but you wouldn't listen. And Pansy wouldn't listen. And then, after that … that … kiss, you wouldn't talk to me. You just went around the castle with your stupid cloak and could have got yourself killed. You never think anything's going to happen to you and you trust people too easily and you rush in and do stupid things, and you could have died."
"You didn't kiss me back."
"What?" Draco couldn’t believe that was the only thing Potter took from that whole rant.
"You didn't kiss me back, so I thought I'd overstepped and that was the end of whatever friendship we had, so I avoided you."
"Stupid," Draco said, though a voice in his head was screaming that Potter hadn't regretted kissing him, only that Draco hadn't kissed him back.
"I know. I never should have done it."
Wait, what? "That's not what I meant. What was stupid was that you avoided me later and started taking even more chances with your life."
"You mean you aren't mad that I … well, that I kissed you?"
"Focus, Potter!" Honestly, this is what he's worried about right now? "Someone or several someones want you dead. You saved my life. I am bound to save yours."
"Oh, right. You have to save me."
Oh, for fuck's sake. "Yes, I have to save you. We have this bond, you and I. Which explains your sudden desire to kiss me out of the blue."
Potter's eyes widened. "You think …?"
"Of course I do. Why the hell else would you be interested in me? But never mind that. We need to focus on saving you. On solving this."
Potter narrowed his eyes. "So we can get out of this mess."
"Yes."
"You think the Room is keeping us here – or everyone else out – until we solve this?"
"Don't you?"
"What exactly did you ask the Room for?"
"For a way to keep you safe here until I could figure out how to prevent someone killing you."
"And you didn't think maybe just coming to talk to me might work?"
"Argh!" Draco resisted the urge to shake Potter. "I did come to you and you wouldn't listen!"
"So you enlisted the help of a magical room that had been severely damaged mere months ago, a room that might turn out to be unpredictable?"
"I didn't stop to think," he said honestly. "I was desperate. I just wanted to save you."
"Because of the bond?"
"Yes."
"You realise the whole 'bond' thing is folklore, right?"
"Some believe so. But even folklore is based in fact, Potter."
Besides, as soon as Potter had kissed him, he knew it had to be true. No other explanation made any sense.
*~*~*
Harry tried to process Malfoy's words. So he thought Harry had only kissed him because of some myth passed down over the years, all the stories about lifetime bonds formed as a result of one person saving another's life. Was that why he hadn't kissed back?
More importantly, was it true? Hermione had also said that folklore is based, however loosely, in fact. Was Harry's interest, rather than being based on some growing relationship between them – admittedly, something he'd never have thought possible even a year ago – instead based on some magical bond?
He didn't believe that, but who knew? Probably best to take this all one step at a time.
"Okay, let's figure this out." There would be no more talk of kissing.
As they wandered the castle over the next several days, they confirmed what they already knew and what the map had shown: they were the only ones present. Which meant making their own meals – thankfully the House Elves kept a well-stocked kitchen.
"You can cook?" Malfoy said that first night.
"Had to."
Malfoy dropped his fork at that. "What do you mean, you had to?"
Harry nodded. "At home with my aunt and uncle. They made me cook and clean. They figured it was the least I could do since they took me in and fed me for all those years."
Malfoy had sputtered incredulously at that. "But … but you were a child!"
Suddenly uncomfortable, Harry asked, "Could we drop it, please? I'd rather not relive those days, if you don't mind."
"So the rumours were true. You were treated horribly. I always thought …"
"Again, can we leave it, please?"
"Oh, sure. Sorry."
*~*~*
Spending days with Potter had shown Draco another side of him. What the hell had his Muggle relatives done to him? And how had Potter not ended up hating all Muggles? That first night, when Potter jumped into action and started cooking them a meal, Draco was stunned. Potter hadn't used magic, except to gather ingredients, and he'd pulled together a fairly good spread.
When he explained that he'd had to cook as a child, Draco recalled articles that outlined all the horrid things he'd had to live with growing up. At the time, Draco figured the articles were nonsense, written to build up the character of the boy hero. But now he wasn't so sure. And Potter didn't want to talk about it. Then again, he supposed Granger and the Weasel knew all about Potter's family. Draco suppressed his jealousy; it wouldn't serve any purpose now.
"This isn't working," he told Potter. They'd spent two days wandering aimlessly, looking for clues to solve the mystery of who wanted Potter dead. "We need a better plan."
Potter snorted. "I didn't know we even had a plan. I just thought we were riffling through stuff until we found something."
"Shut up." He was right, though. "Maybe there's something in the library that could help us."
Potter laughed. "Sure you're not channelling Hermione?"
Draco shuddered. "Perish the thought."
"Hey!" Potter scowled. "She's brilliant, you know."
"Yes, yes, Potter. Granger is brilliant. But that hair! Surely my hair is not that unwieldy."
"Oh. My. God. Did you seriously just say that?"
"What?" Draco ran a hand over his well-coiffed locks. "Her hair is atrocious. And she is capable of bringing it into line, as proven by her appearance at the Yule Ball in fourth year. That girl should take some care." Then he looked at Potter's mop. "You might introduce yours to a comb on occasion, too."
"Piss off." Potter blushed and ran a hand through it, causing even more bits to stand on end. "I try, you know, but it just does whatever it wants. As a kid, whenever my aunt made me get it cut, it just grew back the same way."
"Are you a wizard or not?" Draco asked. "Honestly, capable of saving the wizarding world but defeated by unruly hair."
Looking abashed, Potter said, "When you put it that way, it does sound rather ridiculous."
"As does this conversation. I say we end it now and move on to saving your life."
"And getting out of whatever this is we're stuck in."
"Exactly."
*~*~*
Strange conversations about hair aside, Harry found himself enjoying the time with Malfoy. In fact, he probably shouldn't feel this way, but he didn't much miss everyone else. He would eventually, sure, but right now this wasn't so bad. Even sitting here, in the library, poring over books to find something – anything – that might help them, was pleasant.
Guilt immediately overtook that feeling. "Where do you think everyone else is?"
"I have no idea."
"Really?"
Malfoy pushed aside the tome he was reading. "Really, Potter. I have never heard of such a thing happening, and I don't know what's going on. Everyone might still be at Hogwarts, and we're in some copy of it. Or the other way round. Or … well, I don't know what else."
"You don't think they're in danger, do you? Or worse?"
"No." Malfoy said it so abruptly and so emphatically that Harry believed him. "The Room would never have been granted such power."
Harry thought about the Fiendfyre and what it might have done to the Room. "But –"
Malfoy put up a hand to stop him saying any more. "The Room may be broken, in the sense that its magic now extends beyond the confines of its own space to cover the entire grounds. But the nature of the magic itself hasn't changed. It provided me with what I needed to achieve my goal. As unconventional as its methods are, it's still fundamentally helping, not harming."
Harry nodded, though not entirely convinced. The sooner they solved this problem, the sooner everyone would be back. He hoped.
*~*~*
"Aha!" Draco finally – finally! – found what he'd been looking for.
"What is it? Did you find something to get us out of here?"
"Not quite, Potter. But I did find a detection spell."
"Excuse me if that doesn't sound like much of a big deal."
Ignoring Potter, he went on. "I don't know why I hadn't thought of that to begin with."
"You didn't?"
"No, I was just blindly looking for something to help, not really knowing what I was looking for."
"So what is this, something like a Sneakoscope?"
"Not exactly." He flipped the page over, reading the details of the spell and its purpose. "A Sneakoscope would only detect something if the person were here – that would have come in handy had I thought about it before everyone was gone."
To his credit, Potter didn't rub that one in. Instead, he asked, "So this spell you've found, what will it detect?"
He turned the book so they could both read it. Potter moved closer – close enough for some of those wayward strands of hair to tickle Draco's cheek. "There." He pointed to the spell and Potter read it.
Draco took the time to watch his features as he did so. He wondered idly if this new fascination with Potter would end once he saved his life and broke the bond. He knew more about Potter now, and appreciated that he was much smarter than Draco had ever given him credit for. He would retain that knowledge, but would that be enough? Would he still be interested? Though he wanted to be free of this magical connection, and to know he was acting of his own volition, a small part of him was saddened by the thought of losing what they had now.
"So this can direct us to anything – an object, a written plan, a potion – associated with the plot to kill me, presuming that there is one?"
"Apparently so. We just need to know the intent and the target and the spell will guide us to people, places or objects."
"It sounds too easy."
Draco agreed. He suspected, though it looked perfect on paper, it might prove to be a bigger challenge in practice. "Where's that Gryffindor 'act now, ask questions later' resolve?"
"I think you're confusing that with Hufflepuff blind optimism."
Draco laughed. "Too true."
*~*~*
They'd had to prepare a solution – something Harry entrusted readily to Malfoy, not even pretending he could do any better. It was, however basic and thankfully quick to prepare, a potion after all.
Several hours later, potion complete – a clear blue solution that released a calming scent, a mix of mint and a cool winter breeze – and incantation, inflection and wand movement hopefully mastered, Malfoy yanked a piece of Harry's hair out and added it to the mixture.
"Ow." Harry rubbed his head.
"Don't be such a baby."
He watched the hair dissolve slowly in the mixture. "I'm not a baby. It's just that a little warning would have been nice."
Malfoy waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and stirred the solution with his wand.
Nothing happened. They watched for a full five minutes before Malfoy swore and tossed the book and his wand aside.
As they sat brooding on the sofa, saying nothing, a light humming began emanating from a chair. Harry zeroed in on the source. "Your wand!"
Sure enough, Malfoy's wand had begun to glow softly with the same blue hue as the solution. He scooped it up and dragged Harry off the sofa. "Let's go."
As they rounded yet another corner, Malfoy with his wand leading the way, Harry noted that they were heading towards Ravenclaw Tower.
"You know Potter, this is just what you've always wanted: to be able to sneak around the castle and never get caught." He turned round and grinned. Then he frowned. "Oh, no, wait. You already did get away with that."
"Piss off," Harry said, but laughed while he did. He'd noticed, having now spent some time with Malfoy, that he had a wry sense of humour. He still could be nasty at times, but he wasn't evil like Voldemort or cruel like his father. He just didn't hold back much where others might have. Harry kind of liked that about him.
*~*~*
Draco had been so relieved to see the spell working. Now he felt like they were finally doing something.
He was finding it increasingly difficult to be around Potter and not … well. He'd blown everything when he'd not responded to that kiss, but then that look Potter had given him earlier, the lick of his lips, and the promise of another? It had been a close one that time. Thank goodness Potter had jumped to his feet at that moment, as Draco had been about to do something colossally stupid.
Not that Draco didn't want … something. But this tie between them complicated things. He wanted rid of it. At first he'd wanted rid of it to be free of Potter. Now he just wanted to do away with it so he could know for sure that what he felt and did, and what Potter felt and did, was of their own free will. None of this magical bullshit in the background.
Not that he'd mind a fleeting thing with Potter, but he needed to know that's what it was before acting. And would Potter want something like that? Probably not. And if he didn't, and they did, that would be the end of whatever it was they did currently have. Not that he could say what that was exactly. It might be nothing at all. It might all be because of this stupid life debt. His head hurt thinking about it.
His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of the door to Ravenclaw Tower. He'd known that's where they'd been heading, but it still surprised him to imagine the would-be killer of Potter coming from Ravenclaw. After all, they were supposed to be smart. Who in their right mind would want to kill him?
"You have to knock once," Potter said, motioning to an eagle head knocker on the door. "Then it will ask you a question."
"A question?"
Potter nodded. "And you have to get it right or wait for the next person to come along."
"How do you know – never mind. You wouldn't happen to know the answer, would you?"
Potter shrugged. "The eagle hasn't asked the question yet."
"What?"
"Ravenclaw Tower is entered by answering a riddle. It's different every time. If you don't know the answer, you wait and then you learn from the next person."
"That's ridiculous!"
"Good thing neither of us is in Ravenclaw, then."
Draco looked at the knocker, then back at Potter. "Not such a good thing right now."
"Er … right."
Draco reached for the knocker and banged it once against the door. At once, the eagle's beak opened and a soft voice asked, "Why should I grant you entry?"
Draco whirled on Potter. "I thought you said it was a riddle!"
"I don't know." Potter waved his arms. "Luna said it asks a riddle every time. When I was here, that's what it did. How am I supposed to know it's going to change its game plan?"
Draco shushed Potter so he could think. "Is there a time limit?"
"No idea."
He thought about what Potter had said, and suddenly it came to him. "So we may learn."
The eagle seemed to consider this for a few moments then opened the door.
"Not just a pretty face, then."
It took a moment for Draco to register Potter's words. "Handsome," he corrected.
"What?"
"I have a handsome face, Potter, not a pretty one."
Potter tilted his head first one way then the other, squinting his eyes and examining Draco's face. "More pointy than anything, if you ask me, but we'll go with handsome."
Draco smacked him in response.
The wand led them to a book tucked away on a shelf near the tallest window. Draco Accioed it down and mumbled a few more words to his wand. When it didn't respond, he turned to Potter. "Right, let's take this back to the Room."
"What if there's something else here?"
"There isn't. The wand found nothing beyond this book."
Potter hesitated, then nodded and led the way out without further argument.
*~*~*
Harry didn't know exactly why, but he trusted Malfoy's judgement. He seemed to use logic to make his way through everything like Hermione did. And when he spoke with such conviction and confidence, Harry had no doubt he was right.
"Here we go," Malfoy said at length. He'd been turning pages and scanning the contents of the book for a while now. Harry had given him some distance, since he knew Hermione hated it when he watched over her shoulder. "It's a handwritten note attached to one of the pages."
Harry leaned over to look at the note. "MPP 283. What does that mean?"
"My best guess is that it's a reference to another book, maybe a page number."
Harry groaned. "Great. It's like a treasure hunt. Such fun."
"I thought you liked doing shit like this. Didn't you start in your first year with the Philosopher's Stone? Or do you only like saving other people instead of yourself?"
Harry knew he was irritable. It's just that he was getting more frustrated by the day. Never mind that, by the hour. He didn't know whether the draw he felt to Malfoy was because of the life debt business. He thought Malfoy felt the same thing, but there was no way to be sure. He just wanted this whole thing over with.
Another part of him wanted to stretch things out. Make it last. Because he didn't know what would happen if the only thing causing them to get along was some invisible magical force messing with their minds.
"Moste Potente Potions!" Malfoy announced. "Let's go to the library."
"That one's in the Restricted Section," Harry said without thinking.
Malfoy stood gaping at Harry. "All your years of rule-breaking and what, you've suddenly grown a conscience? There's no one here to stop you getting a restricted book, remember?"
"Oh, right. Sorry." Feeling like an idiot, he followed Malfoy back to the library.
*~*~*
Draco practically ran to the library. When he located the book, he pulled it off the shelf and flipped to page 283. Sure enough, it was a potent poison. One that listed no antidote.
"There is no known cure for this poison, though a Bezoar will slow its progress, buying the victim a few more days of life," he read aloud.
Potter's face paled. "They really were planning to kill me."
"You mean they are planning to kill you, Potter. Keep up. What did you think, I made it all up to get attention?" Potter didn't reply. "Oh, my god, you did!"
Potter put up his hands. "No, no. Ron thought that, remember? I told him --"
"What did you tell him?"
"You heard what I told him, that you'd changed." Potter shuffled his feet and did not make eye contact. "And before that, I told him I thought your days of attention-seeking were over."
Draco wanted to argue, but what could he say? Potter was right. Instead, he just said, "Why won't anyone listen to me?"
"I will from now on. No arguments."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Let's not get completely carried away. You not arguing with me seems a near impossibility."
"Very funny."
"I'm amusing like that."
"Yeah, I've noticed that about you lately."
"Oh, really?" Draco raised a brow. "And what else have you noticed about me lately?"
Potter turned red and looked away again. "That you're still a pain in the arse."
Draco chuckled.
*~*~*
Hours later, they were back in the library, still alone. "Why isn't everyone back now?" Malfoy asked for the tenth time. "We figured out the plot."
"I don't know. Same answer I gave you last time you asked: because we haven't figured out a way to stop it yet?"
"That's rather hard when the person isn't here. How can the Room expect us to stop them if they aren't here to stop? What does it want from us?"
"Maybe we need to come up with a way for them not to get to me?" Harry asked hopefully.
"I wish I could go to the Manor. The library there is bound to have something to work with."
"Can't you just wish for some solution here?"
Malfoy tossed aside the tome he'd been reading and it thudded loudly on the table. "No!"
"Malfoy?"
"It's like sixth year all over again." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he paled and looked away.
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind."
"We both know what happened then. There's nothing to hide."
He glared at Harry. "Perhaps I just don't want to relive it."
Harry put his hands up to show he didn't mean to fight. "I'm not asking you to."
Malfoy's expression softened slightly. "It's just … I knew they were in danger, my parents, and the Room didn't help me then. And now it's happening all over again."
Harry put a hand on his shoulder. "But this time we're not dealing with Voldemort. This is some kid from Ravenclaw who – for some reason – has a beef against me. Even if we can't figure out a solution, there's no guarantee their plan would work anyway. They'd still have to get the poison to me and now I'm prepared for it."
Malfoy considered what he said and nodded. Then the relief on his face – so fleeting – vanished. "Only now I've managed to screw things up in a whole new way."
"How so?"
"My request was too specific. Not only must I figure out what the plot is, but I have to be able to save you."
Harry swooned, then deadpanned, "My hero."
Malfoy ignored him. "Now we have to find the solution or be stuck here, alone, together. Possibly forever."
"Gee thanks. I didn't realise I was such shoddy company."
Malfoy smacked him. "Piss off. You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I do." Harry looked around for some sign, some indication that something in this room could help them. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
"You know you look like a porcupine when you do that."
"Thanks. That's just the look I was after."
They sat in silence for a good twenty minutes, both alternately gazing around the room and staring into space, before Harry spoke. "You know what we need?"
Malfoy didn't look up. "What?"
"A distraction."
Malfoy did look up at that. "What did you have in mind? What with there being no one else here?"
Harry raised a brow. "Scared, Malfoy?"
"More like intrigued."
"C'mon." He grabbed Malfoy by the wrist and dragged him back to the Room of Requirement. He paced back and forth, focusing on his absolute need at this moment. When he walked through the door, he smiled.
"Is that?"
"Yep. Ogden's finest."
"Why did you do it?" Harry asked some time later, trying unsuccessfully not to slur his words. They'd polished off a good portion of the bottle over the past hour.
"Do what?" Malfoy blinked as though trying to focus.
"Try to save me."
Malfoy fidgeted in his seat looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Hello? Life debt. I want it gone."
Harry shook his head. "No, I don't buy that." He took another swig. This stuff was really good. "I already told you I don't expect anything. You owe me nothing."
Rather than getting angry like the last time Harry had said that, Malfoy sighed and swirled the amber liquid around in his glass. "It doesn't work that way. And I just … well, I don't want this looming over my head for the rest of my life."
Harry frowned. He was honestly perplexed. "But it's not like you'd feel some sort of draw towards me, some need to make sure I'm okay."
"I already do," Malfoy mumbled into his glass.
Harry tried to process what Malfoy had just said, but his addled brain told him he must have misheard. "Hermione said the literature on life debts is rather sketchy at best. It started as an honour thing, sort of a promise one made to the person that saved him. Then somewhere along the way, some guy was asked to prove his intent by adding a bonding spell of sorts as a pledge to protect the other. Then it became common practice for a time. Even after that fell out of favour, the idea that one would be drawn to the other was passed down through stories, but there doesn't seem to be any definitive documentation that a life debt is ever actually created without the extra bonding spell."
Malfoy raised a brow. "Definitive documentation?"
Harry cleared his throat. "Hermione's words."
"That doesn't explain …" Malfoy's thoughts seemed to drift away with his words.
"Doesn't explain what?"
"Never mind." He shook his head as though to shake the thoughts away.
*~*~*
Draco was drunk. Well on his way to becoming really drunk. He realised they hadn't eaten much that day, in their quest to find answers. Potter didn't look much better and he was slurring his words.
He watched Potter playing with a Snitch he'd nicked from the Quidditch shed while they'd wandered the grounds the other day. He released it, let it get nearly out of reach, then snatched it back. The last time, his shirt rode up revealing toned abs that Draco wanted to touch.
This was too much. He needed to stop drinking, now, before he did something stupid.
Apparently his body had other ideas, because he found himself crossing the room, coming to a stop in front of Potter. Then he reached down and tucked a particularly annoying lock of hair behind Potter's ear.
For some reason, he hadn't yet pulled back his hand. Even as Potter looked up, then stood up, Draco's hand remained on that bit of hair. "Everything okay?" Potter asked.
"Fine," Draco answered lamely. "That tuft's been driving me nuts for an hour."
Potter's mouth split into a grin and his tongue darted out for just a second. "Has it now?
Draco nodded, eyes transfixed on Potter's mouth. "Mm hmm."
And then he kissed Potter. It was inevitable, really. In fact, as their bodies drew closer, melding into one, and his hands cupped Potter's face, he couldn't for the life of him remember why he'd been resisting.
Potter responded and this was definitely more like how Draco had imagined their first proper kiss could be. Better, in fact.
Potter's porcupine hair was softer than Draco could have imagined, and he ran his fingers through it, knowing he may never have another opportunity. The voice in the back of his head, the one that told him to tread carefully, could fuck right off, thank you very much.
He wanted to devour Potter. And based on his enthusiastic response, Potter wanted to do the same to him.
Before he knew it, he'd backed Potter up to a sofa and they collapsed onto it. They laughed as their mouths broke apart, and then Draco found himself looking down into Potter's green eyes that looked close to black right now. Potter rolled his hips up against Draco's and he groaned. Potter's hands brushed Draco's hair back and he asked, "Are you sure?"
Fuck, yes, he was sure. "I've never been surer of anything in my life," Draco said. He might not be sure tomorrow, but right now he wanted Potter. He'd wanted him for so long, he couldn't remember when he hadn't. He knew there had been a time – they'd met as children, after all. But when it had all changed, he couldn't say. And right now, as Potter drew him in for another kiss, he didn't much care.
*~*~*
Harry stared up at Malfoy, hardly believing this was happening. Maybe they really were dreaming. Right now, he didn't care – real or not, he wanted Malfoy. Wanted to touch him, taste him, feel every part of him.
He rolled his hips and felt Malfoy's hard length press against his own. Then he heard Malfoy's groan and he swallowed. "Are you sure?" he asked. He needed to know, needed to hear the words. He'd imagined this moment a thousand times before, but that last time, when Draco hadn't responded ... He needed to know that he wanted this as much as Harry did.
When Malfoy said, "I've never been surer of anything in my life," Harry lost all control. He pulled Malfoy down into a crushing kiss. Easing up a bit – no need to attack him, after all – he eased his tongue past Malfoy's willing lips and explored. His hands did the same, deftly slipping beneath the waist of Malfoy's pants and grabbing his arse – and what a fine arse it was – pulling him closer and pressing their erections together once more. This time Harry moaned and he felt Malfoy smile against his lips.
"You like that, Potter?"
"Fuck, yes."
"Then let's try it without these pesky clothes between us, yeah?"
"Mm. Definitely." That was the most brilliant idea ever.
When they'd shed their pants – they didn't waste time ridding themselves of their shirts – and come together again, Harry said, "Best idea you've ever had."
Malfoy chuckled. "Oh, I've got a whole lot more where that came from."
"Mm, sounds good to me."
Malfoy didn't need any more encouragement. He reached down and wrapped his hand around both their lengths and began stroking.
"Fuck." If that wasn't the best feeling ever, Harry didn't know what was.
"Not tonight," Malfoy said. "But someday. If you want."
"Mm. I definitely want."
Harry wrapped his own hand around Draco's and they brought each other to climax, first Harry, then Draco not far behind. The last thing Harry remembered Draco saying before he drifted off was, "I hope so."
When Harry awoke, it was still dark and the two of them lay entwined on the sofa in the library. Malfoy had evidently cleaned up their mess and covered them with a blanket.
They lay together for some time, Harry watching Malfoy sleep, before he reluctantly nudged him awake. "We should go back to the Room."
"Like it here," Malfoy grumbled before nuzzling in closer.
Harry chuckled. "I never would have taken you for a cuddler."
That got him. "I am not a cuddler. I was just warm. And you disturbed me."
Harry brushed the hair back from Draco's forehead with a smile. "If you say so. But we should still make our way back to the Room."
"Have the others returned?"
"I don't know. I didn't hear anything, but I wasn't about to go check like this."
Malfoy looked down the length of their bodies, then rubbed against Harry in a very tempting way. "No?"
"No. I don't fancy anyone catching us this way, do you?"
Malfoy looked put out but then shook his head. "I suppose not."
They got back to the Room, encountering no one else along the way, and Harry stopped Malfoy from conjuring the space. "Let me," he said. He paced back and forth, then opened the door to reveal an opulent bedroom.
"I'm impressed," Malfoy said, and they both climbed into the luxurious bed before them.
Just before he drifted off, Malfoy whispered, "I think I may keep you, Potter."
"Oh, really?" Harry smiled, though Malfoy couldn't see with his head resting on Harry's chest. Definitely not cuddling him.
"Mm hmm. I might have to put some sort of spell on you, though. Something to alert me when someone with nefarious purpose is trying to get to you."
"Will you now?"
"Mm. Can't have anyone trying to take you away from me."
Harry laughed. He rather liked the sound of that.
*~*~*
The next morning, they came out of the Room to the sounds of footsteps echoing through the halls, spells being cast and the general mayhem of life at Hogwarts.
"They're back?" Draco asked.
"Seems like it."
Draco looked back at the Room. "We weren't dreaming."
"Apparently not."
Though a bit fuzzy on a few of the details just before falling asleep, Draco definitely remembered what they'd done in the library. And they'd slept together all night. Nothing more, just sleep, but he'd awakened feeling more refreshed that he had in months. Strong arms surrounding him evidently did something for Draco.
As they made their way through the castle, no one was giving any indication that anything was or had been amiss. In fact, it quickly became apparent, through listening to several people's conversations, that no time had passed for the others at all.
"Does that mean we were the ones taken away?" Potter asked.
"No idea."
"Do you think the Room just needed to reset overnight or something?"
"I haven't a clue. It was either that or …"
Potter smiled and whispered into Draco's ear, "Or it liked the idea of you casting a spell on me to keep me all to yourself."
Draco groaned. Had he really said that? He'd rather hoped his addled brain had concocted that in a dream or something. "Shut up or I will cast a spell on you."
Potter held out his arms. "As you wish."
Draco spun his head around to see who might be looking. "Someone might hear you, you know."
Potter chuckled. "Relax, no one knows what's going on."
Just then, Draco's wand started to hum and glow blue. He pulled it out and it drew Draco's gaze over Potter’s left shoulder, where a tall, brown-haired boy in Ravenclaw robes with a sneer on his face and some sort of container in his hand was glaring at them and tensing up to throw it. Without thinking, he took aim and cast a protective charm around Potter, then aimed the wand at his would-be attacker, stunning him.
It was all over in a heartbeat, but there in the Ravenclaw boy's gloved hand, rested a ball that Draco would bet contained a certain antidote-free poison. He must have had it with him when the Room had done whatever it did, so they hadn't found it during their search.
Potter quickly sent a message to the Headmistress and, upon her arrival accompanied by several of the teachers, she directed Slughorn to run tests on the concoction.
Sure enough, for reasons of his own, the boy had planned to toss the canister at Potter, then leave the scene. The poison's delayed effects wouldn't kick in for hours and by then, he had hoped to have either fled the school or been well enough hidden to not be suspected.
Thanks to Draco and his Seeker reflexes, however, Potter lived to see another day.
And, if he was not mistaken, his life debt was now paid in full.
Something prevented him from telling Pansy or anyone else what had transpired in the 'other' Hogwarts. At least for the time being. It was enough that he'd spotted someone looking suspicious and had acted. No one seemed to require any additional information, since he'd already been saying someone was after Potter.
McGonagall wasn't pleased that he hadn't gone to a Professor about it, but the gods were appeased, he was now free, and so was Potter.
*~*~*
Classes took up much of Harry's time, as did all the attention he was getting as a result of the attempt on his life. He found out that the boy – Nate something – was orphaned during the war, and he held Harry responsible. His mother was Muggle-born and had been sentenced to death for some imagined crime the day before Harry, Ron and Hermione had broken into the Ministry. If only they'd been there a day earlier, the boy reasoned that they could have saved her too. His father, heartbroken at the loss of his wife, took his own life and had left Nate alone.
The boy would remain at St. Mungo's indefinitely, in the secure ward for criminals. His fate was yet to be determined, but it didn't look good.
Meanwhile, Harry had chosen not to share what had happened with anyone else. He probably should, given the Room's extra power. But for now, he wanted to keep it between the two of them. At least until they talked about it. If they ever talked again.
Perhaps it was true. Maybe the life debt had caused some feelings to develop that weren't sustainable once that bond had been broken. That didn't explain Harry's continued desire to see Malfoy, though. It also hadn't stopped his dreams, now based on a lot more than simple imagination.
Every night since, the last voice Harry heard as he drifted off to sleep was Malfoy's, telling him that he had all sorts of good ideas. And every day they avoided each other, and Harry became more miserable.
Nearly a week later, Ginny plunked herself down on the sofa in the Common Room next to Harry. "You're a Gryffindor, aren't you?" she said without preamble.
He looked around the Common Room, then at his Gryffindor robes, then back to her. "Obviously."
"Then for the love of Merlin, would you just go after him already?"
"What?"
"You want him, right?" Harry nodded, seeing no point in fighting it. "Then go tell him so. And stop moping. Even Ron would rather have you with Malfoy than brooding all the time."
He choked out a laugh. "I seriously doubt that."
She shrugged. "He told me about the Wall of Honour, that Malfoy paid for it. He's been trying to wrap his head around how someone like Malfoy could do something like that and then not claim the accolades for it."
"Malfoy's changed."
She nodded. "There's also that thing he did – saving your life and all that. It's not like anyone could say he's totally bad for you." She winked at him. "Not anymore."
With the help of the Marauder's Map, Harry had no trouble finding Malfoy pretty quickly.
"Oi, Malfoy! Care to share some of those great ideas you have in that head of yours?"
Draco smiled, and Harry could tell by the look in his eyes, he was going through a few of those ideas in his mind already. "Don't mind if I do."
And then, in front of everyone, Harry marched up to Malfoy, took him in his arms and kissed him. And this time, he kissed back.
~ FIN ~
Author:
sesheta66Beta:
cleo_jayPairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Word Count: 22.6K
Summary: Potter is a target again, but why won't anyone believe Draco? Desperate to rid himself of the life debt he owes Potter, he takes matters into his own hands. As usual, nothing goes as planned.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Harry watched Malfoy tense, and knew he'd thought of something. But he wasn't sharing. And now, after Malfoy's shameless attempt at diversion had caused heat to flood Harry's face, he knew Malfoy was hiding something. Well, Harry could play games too.
He turned his head slowly, until their lips were a mere breath apart. He looked from Malfoy's eyes to his mouth, then back. He ran his tongue over his lips, all the while watching Malfoy for a reaction. The hitch in his breath and the fact he hadn't moved away spoke volumes. Harry smirked. "I can assure you, Malfoy, I have quite interesting dreams." Malfoy's eyes widened. "Especially when you're in them."
Then, without another word, he stood up and brushed the grass off his trousers. "Shall we do something about this situation, then?"
Malfoy's face was now as red as Harry's felt and his pupils were so dilated they nearly took over his irises. It was a good look on him. "W-what do you have in mind?"
Several ideas that had absolutely nothing to do with figuring out what was going on, and everything to do with discovering what lay beneath those Slytherin robes, ran before Harry's mind. He dismissed them for the moment. "Let's see what lies beyond the grounds. See if Hogsmeade has some answers."
Harry tried not to read too much into the look on Malfoy's face. If asked, he'd have described it as disappointment, but since he couldn't read people to save his life, he didn't want to get his hopes up.
Had he just thought that? After that fumbling disaster that was his attempt at a kiss, did he really want to go down that road again? No, he didn't. At least not the way it had happened that day. Malfoy's reaction just now suggested he might want the same thing, but Harry couldn't be sure.
He reached his hand out and when Malfoy took it, Harry hauled him to his feet. "To Hogsmeade."
Had Potter nearly kissed him again? Draco was flustered, not sure what was going on. He'd watched Potter run his tongue along his lips and he'd had to suppress a whimper. He'd wanted desperately to close the distance between them, take that tongue into his own mouth and taste Potter. But before he could do anything, Potter had jumped to his feet.
When he'd suggested they do something about this, Draco had thought he meant something promising. But then his words brought Draco back to reality. Potter was having him on, trying to disorient him, though Draco couldn't imagine why. And now he wanted to go to Hogsmeade?
He took Potter's hand and was promptly hauled to his feet.
They walked in silence to the edge of the castle grounds and stepped onto the path leading to town.
And found themselves standing in the Room of Requirement.
"What the --?" Potter said.
"Well, fuck me."
They tried again and once more found themselves in the Room. They tried the Hogsmeade path, through the forest, over the hills, and each time they reached the edge of the grounds, one more step found them back in the Room.
"What's going on, Malfoy?" Potter asked after the fourth time. "I know you're hiding something."
Draco deflated, knowing this was it. This was the end. He had to tell Potter what he'd done, Potter would hate him forever, and he'd probably have to leave the school. What he would do after that would be anyone's guess.
Sighing, he admitted, "I did this."
Potter crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Draco. "Yeah, I'd worked that much out for myself, thanks. Now tell me what you did."
And Draco told him. Only, instead of getting angry with him, Potter seemed to calm as Draco explained himself.
"You did this for me?"
Draco, dumbfounded by Potter's reaction, merely nodded.
"But why would you do something so stupid?"
Draco's back stiffened. Here it came. "You wouldn't listen to me."
"What?"
"I told you people wanted you dead, but you wouldn't listen. And Pansy wouldn't listen. And then, after that … that … kiss, you wouldn't talk to me. You just went around the castle with your stupid cloak and could have got yourself killed. You never think anything's going to happen to you and you trust people too easily and you rush in and do stupid things, and you could have died."
"You didn't kiss me back."
"What?" Draco couldn’t believe that was the only thing Potter took from that whole rant.
"You didn't kiss me back, so I thought I'd overstepped and that was the end of whatever friendship we had, so I avoided you."
"Stupid," Draco said, though a voice in his head was screaming that Potter hadn't regretted kissing him, only that Draco hadn't kissed him back.
"I know. I never should have done it."
Wait, what? "That's not what I meant. What was stupid was that you avoided me later and started taking even more chances with your life."
"You mean you aren't mad that I … well, that I kissed you?"
"Focus, Potter!" Honestly, this is what he's worried about right now? "Someone or several someones want you dead. You saved my life. I am bound to save yours."
"Oh, right. You have to save me."
Oh, for fuck's sake. "Yes, I have to save you. We have this bond, you and I. Which explains your sudden desire to kiss me out of the blue."
Potter's eyes widened. "You think …?"
"Of course I do. Why the hell else would you be interested in me? But never mind that. We need to focus on saving you. On solving this."
Potter narrowed his eyes. "So we can get out of this mess."
"Yes."
"You think the Room is keeping us here – or everyone else out – until we solve this?"
"Don't you?"
"What exactly did you ask the Room for?"
"For a way to keep you safe here until I could figure out how to prevent someone killing you."
"And you didn't think maybe just coming to talk to me might work?"
"Argh!" Draco resisted the urge to shake Potter. "I did come to you and you wouldn't listen!"
"So you enlisted the help of a magical room that had been severely damaged mere months ago, a room that might turn out to be unpredictable?"
"I didn't stop to think," he said honestly. "I was desperate. I just wanted to save you."
"Because of the bond?"
"Yes."
"You realise the whole 'bond' thing is folklore, right?"
"Some believe so. But even folklore is based in fact, Potter."
Besides, as soon as Potter had kissed him, he knew it had to be true. No other explanation made any sense.
Harry tried to process Malfoy's words. So he thought Harry had only kissed him because of some myth passed down over the years, all the stories about lifetime bonds formed as a result of one person saving another's life. Was that why he hadn't kissed back?
More importantly, was it true? Hermione had also said that folklore is based, however loosely, in fact. Was Harry's interest, rather than being based on some growing relationship between them – admittedly, something he'd never have thought possible even a year ago – instead based on some magical bond?
He didn't believe that, but who knew? Probably best to take this all one step at a time.
"Okay, let's figure this out." There would be no more talk of kissing.
As they wandered the castle over the next several days, they confirmed what they already knew and what the map had shown: they were the only ones present. Which meant making their own meals – thankfully the House Elves kept a well-stocked kitchen.
"You can cook?" Malfoy said that first night.
"Had to."
Malfoy dropped his fork at that. "What do you mean, you had to?"
Harry nodded. "At home with my aunt and uncle. They made me cook and clean. They figured it was the least I could do since they took me in and fed me for all those years."
Malfoy had sputtered incredulously at that. "But … but you were a child!"
Suddenly uncomfortable, Harry asked, "Could we drop it, please? I'd rather not relive those days, if you don't mind."
"So the rumours were true. You were treated horribly. I always thought …"
"Again, can we leave it, please?"
"Oh, sure. Sorry."
Spending days with Potter had shown Draco another side of him. What the hell had his Muggle relatives done to him? And how had Potter not ended up hating all Muggles? That first night, when Potter jumped into action and started cooking them a meal, Draco was stunned. Potter hadn't used magic, except to gather ingredients, and he'd pulled together a fairly good spread.
When he explained that he'd had to cook as a child, Draco recalled articles that outlined all the horrid things he'd had to live with growing up. At the time, Draco figured the articles were nonsense, written to build up the character of the boy hero. But now he wasn't so sure. And Potter didn't want to talk about it. Then again, he supposed Granger and the Weasel knew all about Potter's family. Draco suppressed his jealousy; it wouldn't serve any purpose now.
"This isn't working," he told Potter. They'd spent two days wandering aimlessly, looking for clues to solve the mystery of who wanted Potter dead. "We need a better plan."
Potter snorted. "I didn't know we even had a plan. I just thought we were riffling through stuff until we found something."
"Shut up." He was right, though. "Maybe there's something in the library that could help us."
Potter laughed. "Sure you're not channelling Hermione?"
Draco shuddered. "Perish the thought."
"Hey!" Potter scowled. "She's brilliant, you know."
"Yes, yes, Potter. Granger is brilliant. But that hair! Surely my hair is not that unwieldy."
"Oh. My. God. Did you seriously just say that?"
"What?" Draco ran a hand over his well-coiffed locks. "Her hair is atrocious. And she is capable of bringing it into line, as proven by her appearance at the Yule Ball in fourth year. That girl should take some care." Then he looked at Potter's mop. "You might introduce yours to a comb on occasion, too."
"Piss off." Potter blushed and ran a hand through it, causing even more bits to stand on end. "I try, you know, but it just does whatever it wants. As a kid, whenever my aunt made me get it cut, it just grew back the same way."
"Are you a wizard or not?" Draco asked. "Honestly, capable of saving the wizarding world but defeated by unruly hair."
Looking abashed, Potter said, "When you put it that way, it does sound rather ridiculous."
"As does this conversation. I say we end it now and move on to saving your life."
"And getting out of whatever this is we're stuck in."
"Exactly."
Strange conversations about hair aside, Harry found himself enjoying the time with Malfoy. In fact, he probably shouldn't feel this way, but he didn't much miss everyone else. He would eventually, sure, but right now this wasn't so bad. Even sitting here, in the library, poring over books to find something – anything – that might help them, was pleasant.
Guilt immediately overtook that feeling. "Where do you think everyone else is?"
"I have no idea."
"Really?"
Malfoy pushed aside the tome he was reading. "Really, Potter. I have never heard of such a thing happening, and I don't know what's going on. Everyone might still be at Hogwarts, and we're in some copy of it. Or the other way round. Or … well, I don't know what else."
"You don't think they're in danger, do you? Or worse?"
"No." Malfoy said it so abruptly and so emphatically that Harry believed him. "The Room would never have been granted such power."
Harry thought about the Fiendfyre and what it might have done to the Room. "But –"
Malfoy put up a hand to stop him saying any more. "The Room may be broken, in the sense that its magic now extends beyond the confines of its own space to cover the entire grounds. But the nature of the magic itself hasn't changed. It provided me with what I needed to achieve my goal. As unconventional as its methods are, it's still fundamentally helping, not harming."
Harry nodded, though not entirely convinced. The sooner they solved this problem, the sooner everyone would be back. He hoped.
"Aha!" Draco finally – finally! – found what he'd been looking for.
"What is it? Did you find something to get us out of here?"
"Not quite, Potter. But I did find a detection spell."
"Excuse me if that doesn't sound like much of a big deal."
Ignoring Potter, he went on. "I don't know why I hadn't thought of that to begin with."
"You didn't?"
"No, I was just blindly looking for something to help, not really knowing what I was looking for."
"So what is this, something like a Sneakoscope?"
"Not exactly." He flipped the page over, reading the details of the spell and its purpose. "A Sneakoscope would only detect something if the person were here – that would have come in handy had I thought about it before everyone was gone."
To his credit, Potter didn't rub that one in. Instead, he asked, "So this spell you've found, what will it detect?"
He turned the book so they could both read it. Potter moved closer – close enough for some of those wayward strands of hair to tickle Draco's cheek. "There." He pointed to the spell and Potter read it.
Draco took the time to watch his features as he did so. He wondered idly if this new fascination with Potter would end once he saved his life and broke the bond. He knew more about Potter now, and appreciated that he was much smarter than Draco had ever given him credit for. He would retain that knowledge, but would that be enough? Would he still be interested? Though he wanted to be free of this magical connection, and to know he was acting of his own volition, a small part of him was saddened by the thought of losing what they had now.
"So this can direct us to anything – an object, a written plan, a potion – associated with the plot to kill me, presuming that there is one?"
"Apparently so. We just need to know the intent and the target and the spell will guide us to people, places or objects."
"It sounds too easy."
Draco agreed. He suspected, though it looked perfect on paper, it might prove to be a bigger challenge in practice. "Where's that Gryffindor 'act now, ask questions later' resolve?"
"I think you're confusing that with Hufflepuff blind optimism."
Draco laughed. "Too true."
They'd had to prepare a solution – something Harry entrusted readily to Malfoy, not even pretending he could do any better. It was, however basic and thankfully quick to prepare, a potion after all.
Several hours later, potion complete – a clear blue solution that released a calming scent, a mix of mint and a cool winter breeze – and incantation, inflection and wand movement hopefully mastered, Malfoy yanked a piece of Harry's hair out and added it to the mixture.
"Ow." Harry rubbed his head.
"Don't be such a baby."
He watched the hair dissolve slowly in the mixture. "I'm not a baby. It's just that a little warning would have been nice."
Malfoy waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and stirred the solution with his wand.
Nothing happened. They watched for a full five minutes before Malfoy swore and tossed the book and his wand aside.
As they sat brooding on the sofa, saying nothing, a light humming began emanating from a chair. Harry zeroed in on the source. "Your wand!"
Sure enough, Malfoy's wand had begun to glow softly with the same blue hue as the solution. He scooped it up and dragged Harry off the sofa. "Let's go."
As they rounded yet another corner, Malfoy with his wand leading the way, Harry noted that they were heading towards Ravenclaw Tower.
"You know Potter, this is just what you've always wanted: to be able to sneak around the castle and never get caught." He turned round and grinned. Then he frowned. "Oh, no, wait. You already did get away with that."
"Piss off," Harry said, but laughed while he did. He'd noticed, having now spent some time with Malfoy, that he had a wry sense of humour. He still could be nasty at times, but he wasn't evil like Voldemort or cruel like his father. He just didn't hold back much where others might have. Harry kind of liked that about him.
Draco had been so relieved to see the spell working. Now he felt like they were finally doing something.
He was finding it increasingly difficult to be around Potter and not … well. He'd blown everything when he'd not responded to that kiss, but then that look Potter had given him earlier, the lick of his lips, and the promise of another? It had been a close one that time. Thank goodness Potter had jumped to his feet at that moment, as Draco had been about to do something colossally stupid.
Not that Draco didn't want … something. But this tie between them complicated things. He wanted rid of it. At first he'd wanted rid of it to be free of Potter. Now he just wanted to do away with it so he could know for sure that what he felt and did, and what Potter felt and did, was of their own free will. None of this magical bullshit in the background.
Not that he'd mind a fleeting thing with Potter, but he needed to know that's what it was before acting. And would Potter want something like that? Probably not. And if he didn't, and they did, that would be the end of whatever it was they did currently have. Not that he could say what that was exactly. It might be nothing at all. It might all be because of this stupid life debt. His head hurt thinking about it.
His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of the door to Ravenclaw Tower. He'd known that's where they'd been heading, but it still surprised him to imagine the would-be killer of Potter coming from Ravenclaw. After all, they were supposed to be smart. Who in their right mind would want to kill him?
"You have to knock once," Potter said, motioning to an eagle head knocker on the door. "Then it will ask you a question."
"A question?"
Potter nodded. "And you have to get it right or wait for the next person to come along."
"How do you know – never mind. You wouldn't happen to know the answer, would you?"
Potter shrugged. "The eagle hasn't asked the question yet."
"What?"
"Ravenclaw Tower is entered by answering a riddle. It's different every time. If you don't know the answer, you wait and then you learn from the next person."
"That's ridiculous!"
"Good thing neither of us is in Ravenclaw, then."
Draco looked at the knocker, then back at Potter. "Not such a good thing right now."
"Er … right."
Draco reached for the knocker and banged it once against the door. At once, the eagle's beak opened and a soft voice asked, "Why should I grant you entry?"
Draco whirled on Potter. "I thought you said it was a riddle!"
"I don't know." Potter waved his arms. "Luna said it asks a riddle every time. When I was here, that's what it did. How am I supposed to know it's going to change its game plan?"
Draco shushed Potter so he could think. "Is there a time limit?"
"No idea."
He thought about what Potter had said, and suddenly it came to him. "So we may learn."
The eagle seemed to consider this for a few moments then opened the door.
"Not just a pretty face, then."
It took a moment for Draco to register Potter's words. "Handsome," he corrected.
"What?"
"I have a handsome face, Potter, not a pretty one."
Potter tilted his head first one way then the other, squinting his eyes and examining Draco's face. "More pointy than anything, if you ask me, but we'll go with handsome."
Draco smacked him in response.
The wand led them to a book tucked away on a shelf near the tallest window. Draco Accioed it down and mumbled a few more words to his wand. When it didn't respond, he turned to Potter. "Right, let's take this back to the Room."
"What if there's something else here?"
"There isn't. The wand found nothing beyond this book."
Potter hesitated, then nodded and led the way out without further argument.
Harry didn't know exactly why, but he trusted Malfoy's judgement. He seemed to use logic to make his way through everything like Hermione did. And when he spoke with such conviction and confidence, Harry had no doubt he was right.
"Here we go," Malfoy said at length. He'd been turning pages and scanning the contents of the book for a while now. Harry had given him some distance, since he knew Hermione hated it when he watched over her shoulder. "It's a handwritten note attached to one of the pages."
Harry leaned over to look at the note. "MPP 283. What does that mean?"
"My best guess is that it's a reference to another book, maybe a page number."
Harry groaned. "Great. It's like a treasure hunt. Such fun."
"I thought you liked doing shit like this. Didn't you start in your first year with the Philosopher's Stone? Or do you only like saving other people instead of yourself?"
Harry knew he was irritable. It's just that he was getting more frustrated by the day. Never mind that, by the hour. He didn't know whether the draw he felt to Malfoy was because of the life debt business. He thought Malfoy felt the same thing, but there was no way to be sure. He just wanted this whole thing over with.
Another part of him wanted to stretch things out. Make it last. Because he didn't know what would happen if the only thing causing them to get along was some invisible magical force messing with their minds.
"Moste Potente Potions!" Malfoy announced. "Let's go to the library."
"That one's in the Restricted Section," Harry said without thinking.
Malfoy stood gaping at Harry. "All your years of rule-breaking and what, you've suddenly grown a conscience? There's no one here to stop you getting a restricted book, remember?"
"Oh, right. Sorry." Feeling like an idiot, he followed Malfoy back to the library.
Draco practically ran to the library. When he located the book, he pulled it off the shelf and flipped to page 283. Sure enough, it was a potent poison. One that listed no antidote.
"There is no known cure for this poison, though a Bezoar will slow its progress, buying the victim a few more days of life," he read aloud.
Potter's face paled. "They really were planning to kill me."
"You mean they are planning to kill you, Potter. Keep up. What did you think, I made it all up to get attention?" Potter didn't reply. "Oh, my god, you did!"
Potter put up his hands. "No, no. Ron thought that, remember? I told him --"
"What did you tell him?"
"You heard what I told him, that you'd changed." Potter shuffled his feet and did not make eye contact. "And before that, I told him I thought your days of attention-seeking were over."
Draco wanted to argue, but what could he say? Potter was right. Instead, he just said, "Why won't anyone listen to me?"
"I will from now on. No arguments."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Let's not get completely carried away. You not arguing with me seems a near impossibility."
"Very funny."
"I'm amusing like that."
"Yeah, I've noticed that about you lately."
"Oh, really?" Draco raised a brow. "And what else have you noticed about me lately?"
Potter turned red and looked away again. "That you're still a pain in the arse."
Draco chuckled.
Hours later, they were back in the library, still alone. "Why isn't everyone back now?" Malfoy asked for the tenth time. "We figured out the plot."
"I don't know. Same answer I gave you last time you asked: because we haven't figured out a way to stop it yet?"
"That's rather hard when the person isn't here. How can the Room expect us to stop them if they aren't here to stop? What does it want from us?"
"Maybe we need to come up with a way for them not to get to me?" Harry asked hopefully.
"I wish I could go to the Manor. The library there is bound to have something to work with."
"Can't you just wish for some solution here?"
Malfoy tossed aside the tome he'd been reading and it thudded loudly on the table. "No!"
"Malfoy?"
"It's like sixth year all over again." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he paled and looked away.
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind."
"We both know what happened then. There's nothing to hide."
He glared at Harry. "Perhaps I just don't want to relive it."
Harry put his hands up to show he didn't mean to fight. "I'm not asking you to."
Malfoy's expression softened slightly. "It's just … I knew they were in danger, my parents, and the Room didn't help me then. And now it's happening all over again."
Harry put a hand on his shoulder. "But this time we're not dealing with Voldemort. This is some kid from Ravenclaw who – for some reason – has a beef against me. Even if we can't figure out a solution, there's no guarantee their plan would work anyway. They'd still have to get the poison to me and now I'm prepared for it."
Malfoy considered what he said and nodded. Then the relief on his face – so fleeting – vanished. "Only now I've managed to screw things up in a whole new way."
"How so?"
"My request was too specific. Not only must I figure out what the plot is, but I have to be able to save you."
Harry swooned, then deadpanned, "My hero."
Malfoy ignored him. "Now we have to find the solution or be stuck here, alone, together. Possibly forever."
"Gee thanks. I didn't realise I was such shoddy company."
Malfoy smacked him. "Piss off. You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I do." Harry looked around for some sign, some indication that something in this room could help them. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
"You know you look like a porcupine when you do that."
"Thanks. That's just the look I was after."
They sat in silence for a good twenty minutes, both alternately gazing around the room and staring into space, before Harry spoke. "You know what we need?"
Malfoy didn't look up. "What?"
"A distraction."
Malfoy did look up at that. "What did you have in mind? What with there being no one else here?"
Harry raised a brow. "Scared, Malfoy?"
"More like intrigued."
"C'mon." He grabbed Malfoy by the wrist and dragged him back to the Room of Requirement. He paced back and forth, focusing on his absolute need at this moment. When he walked through the door, he smiled.
"Is that?"
"Yep. Ogden's finest."
"Why did you do it?" Harry asked some time later, trying unsuccessfully not to slur his words. They'd polished off a good portion of the bottle over the past hour.
"Do what?" Malfoy blinked as though trying to focus.
"Try to save me."
Malfoy fidgeted in his seat looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Hello? Life debt. I want it gone."
Harry shook his head. "No, I don't buy that." He took another swig. This stuff was really good. "I already told you I don't expect anything. You owe me nothing."
Rather than getting angry like the last time Harry had said that, Malfoy sighed and swirled the amber liquid around in his glass. "It doesn't work that way. And I just … well, I don't want this looming over my head for the rest of my life."
Harry frowned. He was honestly perplexed. "But it's not like you'd feel some sort of draw towards me, some need to make sure I'm okay."
"I already do," Malfoy mumbled into his glass.
Harry tried to process what Malfoy had just said, but his addled brain told him he must have misheard. "Hermione said the literature on life debts is rather sketchy at best. It started as an honour thing, sort of a promise one made to the person that saved him. Then somewhere along the way, some guy was asked to prove his intent by adding a bonding spell of sorts as a pledge to protect the other. Then it became common practice for a time. Even after that fell out of favour, the idea that one would be drawn to the other was passed down through stories, but there doesn't seem to be any definitive documentation that a life debt is ever actually created without the extra bonding spell."
Malfoy raised a brow. "Definitive documentation?"
Harry cleared his throat. "Hermione's words."
"That doesn't explain …" Malfoy's thoughts seemed to drift away with his words.
"Doesn't explain what?"
"Never mind." He shook his head as though to shake the thoughts away.
Draco was drunk. Well on his way to becoming really drunk. He realised they hadn't eaten much that day, in their quest to find answers. Potter didn't look much better and he was slurring his words.
He watched Potter playing with a Snitch he'd nicked from the Quidditch shed while they'd wandered the grounds the other day. He released it, let it get nearly out of reach, then snatched it back. The last time, his shirt rode up revealing toned abs that Draco wanted to touch.
This was too much. He needed to stop drinking, now, before he did something stupid.
Apparently his body had other ideas, because he found himself crossing the room, coming to a stop in front of Potter. Then he reached down and tucked a particularly annoying lock of hair behind Potter's ear.
For some reason, he hadn't yet pulled back his hand. Even as Potter looked up, then stood up, Draco's hand remained on that bit of hair. "Everything okay?" Potter asked.
"Fine," Draco answered lamely. "That tuft's been driving me nuts for an hour."
Potter's mouth split into a grin and his tongue darted out for just a second. "Has it now?
Draco nodded, eyes transfixed on Potter's mouth. "Mm hmm."
And then he kissed Potter. It was inevitable, really. In fact, as their bodies drew closer, melding into one, and his hands cupped Potter's face, he couldn't for the life of him remember why he'd been resisting.
Potter responded and this was definitely more like how Draco had imagined their first proper kiss could be. Better, in fact.
Potter's porcupine hair was softer than Draco could have imagined, and he ran his fingers through it, knowing he may never have another opportunity. The voice in the back of his head, the one that told him to tread carefully, could fuck right off, thank you very much.
He wanted to devour Potter. And based on his enthusiastic response, Potter wanted to do the same to him.
Before he knew it, he'd backed Potter up to a sofa and they collapsed onto it. They laughed as their mouths broke apart, and then Draco found himself looking down into Potter's green eyes that looked close to black right now. Potter rolled his hips up against Draco's and he groaned. Potter's hands brushed Draco's hair back and he asked, "Are you sure?"
Fuck, yes, he was sure. "I've never been surer of anything in my life," Draco said. He might not be sure tomorrow, but right now he wanted Potter. He'd wanted him for so long, he couldn't remember when he hadn't. He knew there had been a time – they'd met as children, after all. But when it had all changed, he couldn't say. And right now, as Potter drew him in for another kiss, he didn't much care.
Harry stared up at Malfoy, hardly believing this was happening. Maybe they really were dreaming. Right now, he didn't care – real or not, he wanted Malfoy. Wanted to touch him, taste him, feel every part of him.
He rolled his hips and felt Malfoy's hard length press against his own. Then he heard Malfoy's groan and he swallowed. "Are you sure?" he asked. He needed to know, needed to hear the words. He'd imagined this moment a thousand times before, but that last time, when Draco hadn't responded ... He needed to know that he wanted this as much as Harry did.
When Malfoy said, "I've never been surer of anything in my life," Harry lost all control. He pulled Malfoy down into a crushing kiss. Easing up a bit – no need to attack him, after all – he eased his tongue past Malfoy's willing lips and explored. His hands did the same, deftly slipping beneath the waist of Malfoy's pants and grabbing his arse – and what a fine arse it was – pulling him closer and pressing their erections together once more. This time Harry moaned and he felt Malfoy smile against his lips.
"You like that, Potter?"
"Fuck, yes."
"Then let's try it without these pesky clothes between us, yeah?"
"Mm. Definitely." That was the most brilliant idea ever.
When they'd shed their pants – they didn't waste time ridding themselves of their shirts – and come together again, Harry said, "Best idea you've ever had."
Malfoy chuckled. "Oh, I've got a whole lot more where that came from."
"Mm, sounds good to me."
Malfoy didn't need any more encouragement. He reached down and wrapped his hand around both their lengths and began stroking.
"Fuck." If that wasn't the best feeling ever, Harry didn't know what was.
"Not tonight," Malfoy said. "But someday. If you want."
"Mm. I definitely want."
Harry wrapped his own hand around Draco's and they brought each other to climax, first Harry, then Draco not far behind. The last thing Harry remembered Draco saying before he drifted off was, "I hope so."
When Harry awoke, it was still dark and the two of them lay entwined on the sofa in the library. Malfoy had evidently cleaned up their mess and covered them with a blanket.
They lay together for some time, Harry watching Malfoy sleep, before he reluctantly nudged him awake. "We should go back to the Room."
"Like it here," Malfoy grumbled before nuzzling in closer.
Harry chuckled. "I never would have taken you for a cuddler."
That got him. "I am not a cuddler. I was just warm. And you disturbed me."
Harry brushed the hair back from Draco's forehead with a smile. "If you say so. But we should still make our way back to the Room."
"Have the others returned?"
"I don't know. I didn't hear anything, but I wasn't about to go check like this."
Malfoy looked down the length of their bodies, then rubbed against Harry in a very tempting way. "No?"
"No. I don't fancy anyone catching us this way, do you?"
Malfoy looked put out but then shook his head. "I suppose not."
They got back to the Room, encountering no one else along the way, and Harry stopped Malfoy from conjuring the space. "Let me," he said. He paced back and forth, then opened the door to reveal an opulent bedroom.
"I'm impressed," Malfoy said, and they both climbed into the luxurious bed before them.
Just before he drifted off, Malfoy whispered, "I think I may keep you, Potter."
"Oh, really?" Harry smiled, though Malfoy couldn't see with his head resting on Harry's chest. Definitely not cuddling him.
"Mm hmm. I might have to put some sort of spell on you, though. Something to alert me when someone with nefarious purpose is trying to get to you."
"Will you now?"
"Mm. Can't have anyone trying to take you away from me."
Harry laughed. He rather liked the sound of that.
The next morning, they came out of the Room to the sounds of footsteps echoing through the halls, spells being cast and the general mayhem of life at Hogwarts.
"They're back?" Draco asked.
"Seems like it."
Draco looked back at the Room. "We weren't dreaming."
"Apparently not."
Though a bit fuzzy on a few of the details just before falling asleep, Draco definitely remembered what they'd done in the library. And they'd slept together all night. Nothing more, just sleep, but he'd awakened feeling more refreshed that he had in months. Strong arms surrounding him evidently did something for Draco.
As they made their way through the castle, no one was giving any indication that anything was or had been amiss. In fact, it quickly became apparent, through listening to several people's conversations, that no time had passed for the others at all.
"Does that mean we were the ones taken away?" Potter asked.
"No idea."
"Do you think the Room just needed to reset overnight or something?"
"I haven't a clue. It was either that or …"
Potter smiled and whispered into Draco's ear, "Or it liked the idea of you casting a spell on me to keep me all to yourself."
Draco groaned. Had he really said that? He'd rather hoped his addled brain had concocted that in a dream or something. "Shut up or I will cast a spell on you."
Potter held out his arms. "As you wish."
Draco spun his head around to see who might be looking. "Someone might hear you, you know."
Potter chuckled. "Relax, no one knows what's going on."
Just then, Draco's wand started to hum and glow blue. He pulled it out and it drew Draco's gaze over Potter’s left shoulder, where a tall, brown-haired boy in Ravenclaw robes with a sneer on his face and some sort of container in his hand was glaring at them and tensing up to throw it. Without thinking, he took aim and cast a protective charm around Potter, then aimed the wand at his would-be attacker, stunning him.
It was all over in a heartbeat, but there in the Ravenclaw boy's gloved hand, rested a ball that Draco would bet contained a certain antidote-free poison. He must have had it with him when the Room had done whatever it did, so they hadn't found it during their search.
Potter quickly sent a message to the Headmistress and, upon her arrival accompanied by several of the teachers, she directed Slughorn to run tests on the concoction.
Sure enough, for reasons of his own, the boy had planned to toss the canister at Potter, then leave the scene. The poison's delayed effects wouldn't kick in for hours and by then, he had hoped to have either fled the school or been well enough hidden to not be suspected.
Thanks to Draco and his Seeker reflexes, however, Potter lived to see another day.
And, if he was not mistaken, his life debt was now paid in full.
Something prevented him from telling Pansy or anyone else what had transpired in the 'other' Hogwarts. At least for the time being. It was enough that he'd spotted someone looking suspicious and had acted. No one seemed to require any additional information, since he'd already been saying someone was after Potter.
McGonagall wasn't pleased that he hadn't gone to a Professor about it, but the gods were appeased, he was now free, and so was Potter.
Classes took up much of Harry's time, as did all the attention he was getting as a result of the attempt on his life. He found out that the boy – Nate something – was orphaned during the war, and he held Harry responsible. His mother was Muggle-born and had been sentenced to death for some imagined crime the day before Harry, Ron and Hermione had broken into the Ministry. If only they'd been there a day earlier, the boy reasoned that they could have saved her too. His father, heartbroken at the loss of his wife, took his own life and had left Nate alone.
The boy would remain at St. Mungo's indefinitely, in the secure ward for criminals. His fate was yet to be determined, but it didn't look good.
Meanwhile, Harry had chosen not to share what had happened with anyone else. He probably should, given the Room's extra power. But for now, he wanted to keep it between the two of them. At least until they talked about it. If they ever talked again.
Perhaps it was true. Maybe the life debt had caused some feelings to develop that weren't sustainable once that bond had been broken. That didn't explain Harry's continued desire to see Malfoy, though. It also hadn't stopped his dreams, now based on a lot more than simple imagination.
Every night since, the last voice Harry heard as he drifted off to sleep was Malfoy's, telling him that he had all sorts of good ideas. And every day they avoided each other, and Harry became more miserable.
Nearly a week later, Ginny plunked herself down on the sofa in the Common Room next to Harry. "You're a Gryffindor, aren't you?" she said without preamble.
He looked around the Common Room, then at his Gryffindor robes, then back to her. "Obviously."
"Then for the love of Merlin, would you just go after him already?"
"What?"
"You want him, right?" Harry nodded, seeing no point in fighting it. "Then go tell him so. And stop moping. Even Ron would rather have you with Malfoy than brooding all the time."
He choked out a laugh. "I seriously doubt that."
She shrugged. "He told me about the Wall of Honour, that Malfoy paid for it. He's been trying to wrap his head around how someone like Malfoy could do something like that and then not claim the accolades for it."
"Malfoy's changed."
She nodded. "There's also that thing he did – saving your life and all that. It's not like anyone could say he's totally bad for you." She winked at him. "Not anymore."
With the help of the Marauder's Map, Harry had no trouble finding Malfoy pretty quickly.
"Oi, Malfoy! Care to share some of those great ideas you have in that head of yours?"
Draco smiled, and Harry could tell by the look in his eyes, he was going through a few of those ideas in his mind already. "Don't mind if I do."
And then, in front of everyone, Harry marched up to Malfoy, took him in his arms and kissed him. And this time, he kissed back.
~ FIN ~