"speech" | thoughts sent via telepathic link
Part One : Initial Harmonics
1:45pm, Wednesday, 16th December 1998
"The harmonia cogitari Charm is most often used by Auror's to communicate telepathically, allowing them to speak without being overheard or over great distances. The charm, while powerful and useful has many drawbacks. It is difficult to cast between individuals who do not trust one another, have just met or harbour negative feelings for the other. The charm is not permanent and will 'time-out' after an hour or so, depending on the magical strength of the individuals involved."
Professor Flitwicks lectures were always precise, clear and easy to understand. Harry would probably never admit it aloud, but secretly, he always looked forward to Charms class. Harry listened intently to his Charms Professor as he continued to speak.
"While permanent connections are rare, they do exist. Can anyone tell me the three ways to establish a permanent telepathical link?" Flitwick's little black eyes gazed around the room hopefully, looking for an eager student to answer.
Harry didn't even have to look at Hermione to know she already had her hand in the air, probably waving it frantically, still disillusioned that it somehow encouraged the Professor to call on her. Harry had to force himself not to roll his eyes when he confirmed this with a glance at his female friend.
It truly surprised him, then, when it was not Hermione who answered.
"Mr Malfoy?" Flitwick nodded in the blonds direction. Harrys eyes snapped to Malfoys place within the classroom, just in time to see him lower his hand.
"Permanent links can be established by a Master Legilimens – but even then only the Legilimens can receive thoughts, either intentional or subconscious. Links can also be an aftereffect of a strong bonding, or in naturally occurring soul mates. Though, those are rarer than the links themselves." Malfoy drawled, absently twirling his quill.
"Correct! Ten points to Slytherin." Flitwick smiled. That was the other thing Harry liked about the tiny Professor, he was unbiased. It didn't matter what house you were from. Knowledge was knowledge. There was movement to Harry's right and he glanced over at Hermione, her hand was in the air, again.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Ah, Professor? What is bonding?" She asked; a light blush formed across her cheeks. It caused a collective laugh from the other students.
What's this? Hermione Granger, Miss-Know-It-All herself, doesn't know something? Truly, it must be a sign of the apocalypse, thought Harry bitterly.
"Bonding? Oh, yes. Well, muggles have something similar, ah, Marriage, I believe the term is." Flitwick nodded to himself. "For the benefit of those among you who are unfamiliar with the magical worlds rituals and customs. Bonding, is when two magical beings perform a ritual called unire animam magus." The Professor paused and glanced over the students.
"It is a very ancient blood-ritual and has been in practice for centuries. Unire animam magus or in simple terms, the Bonding Ritual, is one of the few remaining blood-rituals still legally allowed to be performed. Now, I say 'magical beings' because the ritual and the Ministry currently recognises the bonding between any two magical beings." Flitwick glanced at the Slytherins.
"This means, wizards can bond with witches, or other wizards, or Werewolves, Vampires, Veela, Mermaids, Giants, Goblins – the list goes on - any combination of two magical beings is possible. The ritual harmonises the magical energy between the two, enabling and ensuring procreation." A few pure-blood students snickered when the muggle-borns gasped.
Flitwick just smiled, "Yes, this is why it is possible for people like Professor Hagrid to exist. His father, a wizard, his mother a giantess – bonded by unire animam magus, ensured that a viable child would be born. It is the only way cross species breeding can be achieved."
Harry's mind swirled with the new information. Wizards can marry - or in this case - bond with other wizards, legally. And two men can have children – together – and any children they had would be theirs genetically. Which meant that wizards, male wizards, men – Harry - could conceivably, get pregnant.
"Well, enough of this! We've gotten off track. Now, back to the harmonia cogitari Charm, you should have all read chapter seventeen by now. I want you to pair up and begin practising the charm. You have one hour to establish a link with your friend and then I will assign partners for the assignment due next month!" Flitwick clapped his hands together and hopped down from his stool.
"Harry? Mate?" Ron shook his shoulder. "You with us?"
"Wha-What?" Harry shook his head and turned to face Ron.
He smiled, "Lost you there for moment eh? Come on, partner, we better get started."
Harry nodded and glanced down at his open textbook. The wand movement was suspiciously easy, just one sharp, quick flick. "Alright, you first?"
Ron sighed and removed his wand from within his robes. "I'm, ah, not overly confident – I'll be honest, mate." He glanced down at his own textbook, it had been Percy's and was quite worn, every few pages were creased from being folded and the text itself was lightly faded.
"I trust you." Harry said with a shrug.
Ron smiled then and lifted his wand, "Harmonia cogitari!"
The sharp prickly sensation reminded Harry of long nights spent in Snape's office learning Occlumency. Out of habit, Harry immediately blocked the intrusion. There was a sharp pop and when Harry opened his eyes Ron's chair had tipped over and the redhead was sprawled on the floor.
"Oh shit, Ron! Ron? Are you okay?" Harry shifted his and Ron's desks so he could crouch beside his friend.
Ron groaned. "I guess you're shields work then?"
Harry shook his head. "Yeah, sorry…"
"Well, well… Mr Potter, your shields while impressive are going to make this exercise both difficult and dangerous. I suggest from now on, you cast the spell. I very much doubt Mr Weasley is quite so, ah, proficient with defensive mind magic." Professor Flitwick tutted and swished his wand over Ron before nodding and moving onto another group.
Ron grumbled, righted his chair and flopped back down. Harry shot him another apologetic look.
Touch your nose if you can hear me. Touch your nose if you can hear me. Touch your nose if you can hear me.
Harry chanted in his head, hoping Ron would receive the message and follow the directions.
Ron frowned. "All I get is 'your, if and hear me'. What are you trying to say?"
Harry sighed. "Touch your nose if you can hear me."
Ron touched his nose and they both laughed.
"Alright your hour's up! I know a few of you are having limited success, which is expected. Remember this charm is exceptionally difficult and complicated. Do not be disheartened if you cannot hear your friends thoughts. Now, I will assign partners for your assignment." Flitwick had returned to his stool at the front of the classroom and was unrolling a scroll of parchment.
"The assignment is due next month on the twentieth, which gives you three weeks after you return from Christmas holidays. You will be graded – as a pair – on the strength of your link. If you and your partner can successfully cast the charm but cannot share anything, you will receive an Acceptable grading. If you can cast the charm and share thoughts you'll receive Exceeds Expectations. Finally if you and your partner can link, share thoughts and images you'll receive an Outstanding grade."
Ron groaned and let his head fall to desk with a loud thump, Hermione glared at him and Harry had to cover his girlish giggle with a cough.
"Thank you, Mr Weasley." Flitwick sighed and glanced over his list, "Your partners are as follows: Hannah Abbot with Lavender Brown, Susan Bones with Theodore Nott, Millicent Bulstrode with Parvati Patil…"
Harry frowned at the pairs Flitwick had listed, Hannah hated gossips and there wasn't a bigger gossip than Lavender. Susan's Aunt worked for the Auror Department and Nott's father was a Death Eater, Parvati was a narcissist – more so than even Malfoy - and Bulstrode was about as aesthetically pleasing as a pile of vomit. Each pair Flitwick named did not like each other. It would be a miracle if anyone completed the assignment at this rate!
"…Draco Malfoy with Harry Potter, Morag McDougle with Michael Corner…"
This time it was Harry's turn to groan and slam his head onto his desk. Paired with Malfoy, of course! Harry should have seen this coming a mile away. If the Professor was intentionally partnering people who had opposing personalities and beliefs or people who publicly argued then Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were a textbook pair.
Since the very moment Harry met Draco Malfoy there had been something about him, something that made his body tense, his instincts scream and his heart race. He was constantly mouthing off about pureblood superiority, impressing his narrow-minded opinions on others and generally being a prick. Harry could not think of single thing about Malfoy that didn't annoy him.
Harry jumped slightly when Ron patted him on the back heavily. "Bad luck, gettin' stuck with Malfoy." Ron shook his head and glared in the Slytherins direction. "I got Parkinson…" He shuddered.
Harry smirked, "I don't know who's worse, Malfoys a prick, but at least he doesn't sound like a Banshee!"
Ron flinched and covered his ears. "Maybe 'Mione knows a spell to conjure a muzzle?"
Why was it always, always, Harry-fucking-Potter? It must be a curse! Draco thought and glanced over at the boy-wonder laughing at something the Weasel said. Well, at least he wasn't stuck with… That. Draco shuddered. Thank Merlin for small miracles, he could hardly even contemplate being paired with Weasel.
Draco forced himself to look away from the boy-wonder, he always looked sexy when he laughed. Stupid Potter, why did he have to be Draco's type? Why were all the good-looking guys straight? Why couldn't Draco met someone else who had green eyes and flew like he was born with a broom between his legs.
Draco's eyes closed and he groaned softly. Great, now I'm thinking about Potter riding 'broomsticks'…
"Okay, now everyone switch seats and sit next to your partner and you'll spend the remaining time attempting to get a head start on your assignment!" Flitwick banished his roll of parchment with a tap of his wand.
Draco glared at Potter and Potter glared right back. I am not moving, Draco thought. The boy-wonder can come to me, crawling, preferably naked, on his hands and knees… Oh stop it! He snapped at himself.
Potter didn't move, but Weasel did, leaving an empty seat next to the git. Potter grinned at him and patted the empty seat. Draco's eyes narrowed, but he stood, snatched his bag and stomped over towards the grinning Saviour.
Malfoy dropped his bag heavily on Ron's desk, turned the empty chair so the back faced Harry and straddled it. He crossed his arms over the back and rested his chin on top. Harry rolled his eyes. Dramatic much? Harry grumbled to himself.
"I saw what happened to Weasel." Malfoy drawled. "I know you can shield your mind, so can I. Therefore, if we are going to do this, we both need to drop our shields. Understand?"
Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Sure… but ah, I tend to snap 'em right back up when I feel something try to enter my mind. Snape trained me that way, so I would always be ready, encase Voldemort decided to invade my mind randomly while I was otherwise occupied."
"I'll bet you couldn't if you were really, really distracted." Malfoy smirked.
Harry glared, "Like what? Malfoy, I can do it in my sleep. I don't think there is anything that would distract me enough not to notice someone in my head."
Malfoys smirk widened and he wriggled his eyebrows, "So, Potter… Shall we put your shields to the test?" he teased and withdrew his wand.
Harry blinked at him, "Ah, I guess…"
Malfoy nodded and flicked his wand, "Harmonia cogitari!"
Harry felt the same prickly sting that warned him that someone was trying to enter his mind, he gritted his teeth and tried to lower his shield and let Malfoy inside, but he couldn't, his mind wouldn't open. Harry heard the sharp pop and opened his eyes.
Malfoy had ducked. He was still sitting in the chair, not a hair out of place, the smug prick was laughing at him! "What is so funny!?" Harry growled.
Malfoy shook his head. "Nothing, just… Your shields are some of the best I've seen, but that's it. That is all Professor Snape taught you, how to block entry. You don't actually know anything about Occlumency do you?"
Harry snarled, pulled his wand and flicked it at Malfoy. "Harmonia cogitari!"
Malfoy flinched and his eyes closed, a moment later Harry felt the spell connect and he could feel Malfoy at the back of his mind. "We did it!" Harry laughed. "That wasn't hard."
Malfoy opened his eyes and rolled them. "I let you in, fool. You didn't have to overcome our differences, like the other pairs will, because we're both Occulmencers we can get around that roadblock."
The thought echoed within Harry's mind and it wasn't his own. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to send Malfoy a message via their new link.
Touch your nose if you can hear me Malfoy! Touch your nose if you can hear me Malfoy! Touch your nose if you can hear me Malfoy….
"I don't follow your orders, Potter." Malfoy snapped.
"You could hear me?" Harry asked.
Malfoy shook his head and pulled a face, "Touch your nose if you can hear me Malfoy." Malfoy imitated Harry, but used an excessively high-pitched voice. "No, Potter, I will not touch my nose. And for future reference, you do not need to repeat your thought over and over, nor do you need to yell."
Harry's mouth fell open, "But… Ron. He couldn't… How come you can hear me so clearly?"
Because, I'm a better wizard than the Weasel.
Fuck you, Malfoy
"Alright, everyone remember you have until the twentieth to test your link with your partner! Now, Happy Christmas, and off with you! Your next class starts in fifteen minutes." Flitwick dismissed the eighth-years.
Potter hadn't even waited until Flitwick had finished speaking before he'd snatched his bag, shoved his textbook inside and disappeared out the door. Draco sighed, as he felt that annoyingly familiar sinking feeling that always accompanied Potters absence.
"Hurry up Draco, we've got Runes next!" Blaise called his hands making the sharp 'come-hither' motion he favoured. Draco stood and joined his friend as they made their way to the next class.
"How'd it go with Potter?" Blaise asked as they rounded the corner before slipping into the Ancient Runes classroom. They automatically took their usual seats, at the front on the extreme left.
Draco snorted, "How it always goes. Our vision impaired saviour might have raw power but he has no tact or control. He couldn't even lower his Occlumency shields to allow the Weasel through let alone my charming self."
Blaise laughed, "The look on Weasel's face when Potter blasted him was priceless, wish Creevey had been there with his camera. That would have been worth a few galleons!" Blaise shook his head.
Draco smirked, "True. Well, obviously I couldn't get through his damn shields, best I've seen-"
"Wait, best you've seen? What? Better than Snapes?" Draco glared at Blaise for the interruption.
"Definitely; that boy is most unusual." Draco frowned, "Anyway, I couldn't pierce them and he suddenly gets angry – Merlin knows why – and just casts at me." He looked down at his hands, not able to meet his friends' confused eyes. "He is incredibly powerful, my shields barely held before I lowered them."
"Wow…" Blaise sighed, and gazed out the open classroom window; "I was there, ah, in the forbidden forest when the Dark Lord killed him. Your mum, she was looking for you, but we'd already gotten separated."
Draco placed his hand on his best friends shoulder and rubbed his back softly. Blaise had to swallow a few times before continuing, "He just stood there, Draco… And then your mum checked and said he was dead. I never wanted… You know? And then, he wasn't dead."
Draco nodded, "I know, I thought it was over… I thought he'd won."
Blaise shook himself and leaned back in his chair, the room was nearly full now. "Maybe we shouldn't pick on him anymore?" Draco's mouth fell open in shock. "I mean… Ah, it's just that I'm grateful – you know?"
Draco hummed to himself, "Everyone treats him differently now, every-time they look at him their eyes spark – but it's not happiness. It's hero-worship. I think… Snape was right." Blaise looked confused again. "He's just a kid, like us. We shouldn't treat him differently, he did a great thing. He defeated the Dark Lord, but he still attends class, he still sucks at potions, and he still wears those hideous glasses."
Blaise laughed, "You're right…"
"Of course I am."
"You must envision the water as a mirror," Professor Trelawney said as she drifted between tables, "You need to see beyond your reflection! Look not with your physical eyes but with your inner eye! Only when you open yourself to the spiritual world can you divine your fate and see the unknown!" Trelawney flung her arms wide, causing her to trip over one of the many tassels that littered the room. She faltered and grasped a nearby table for balance causing one of the buckets of water to tip over.
Lavender shrieked and scampered away, she was drenched. Her white school shirt was see-through instantly. Harry rolled his eyes at her pink and white polka-dotted bra and glanced at his friend. Ron blinked slowly and his eyes glazed over.
I wonder if he'll actually start drooling? Harry sighed, I hate divination. Why am I still taking this fucking class?
"Oh my, I am sorry dear. I did wonder why I saw a vision of pink rain this morning!" Trelawney laughed. "Off you go, dear. You're excused."
Lavender blushed and gathered her things. Ron's eyes never moved from her clinging wet shirt. Harry looked back at Lavender as she made a speedy exit. Sometimes Harry wondered if it was a good thing or a bad thing that he'd realised his sexual preference over the holidays. Ignorance was supposedly bliss, after all.
"Wow, mate… Did you see that!" Ron breathed heavily and leaned forward, shifting his robes over his lap.
Unfortunately, I did. Harry thought remorsefully. And unless I can replace the image of Lavenders breasts with a nice arse I may as well kiss my wank session tonight goodbye.
Ron frowned when Harry didn't answer. "Mate? You alright? You look a little peaky."
"I'm fine Ron, just not feeling well. You know?"
Ron nodded, "Yeah, it's weird. I keep expecting something to happen, but then it's over right? No more evil plans or assassination attempts, no more adventures. Just… School." He sounded like he'd just been told Christmas was cancelled.
Oh yes, Harry grumbled. Perish the thought of no more attempts on my life or as Ron likes to put it 'adventures'. God I hate it.
"Maybe you should go see Pomfrey, after class?" Ron patted Harry's shoulder.
Harry shook his head. "I'm fine Ron, really."
Just shut up and leave me alone.
Draco was halfway through a surprisingly difficult runic equation when he heard it, Potter's voice. It echoed within his mind.
I wonder if he'll actually start drooling?
Draco froze and checked his wristwatch; it had already been over an hour since Potter had initially cast the charm. It shouldn't still be active.
I hate divination. Why am I still taking this fucking class?
Draco had to stop himself from laughing and drawing attention to himself. What on earth was going on? Why could he still hear Potters thoughts? Could Potter hear his? Quickly Draco reassessed his shields. No, Potter wouldn't be able to hear him, he'd automatically readjusted them when Charms class had ended.
But Potter hadn't. Potter didn't know how, he'd only been taught how to stop entry. He didn't actually know anything about Occlumency. Draco concentrated and tried to listen for more of Potters thoughts, while still looking like he was working.
Unfortunately, I did. And unless I can replace the image of Lavenders breasts with a nice arse I may as well kiss my wank session tonight goodbye.
Draco almost gave himself away when he sucked in a sharp breath. Blaise glanced at him worriedly but Draco shook his head and looked back down at his half-completed equation.
Why was Potter thinking about Brown's breasts? And why was the depressingly straight saviour not enjoying the sight of said breasts?
Oh yes! Perish the thought of no more attempts on my life or as Ron likes to put it 'adventures'. God I hate it.
Draco could hear the anger and resentment in Potter's voice.
Just shut up and leave me alone.
Holy shit! Draco was shocked and tried to assess the new information. Potter, it seemed, did not enjoy the sight of breasts and preferred a nice arse whether male or female remained unknown and Potter currently was pissed at Weasel, very pissed.
Oh, here we go…
Draco frowned and waited for more.
Shit, and here I thought with Snake-Face gone she'd stop with the 'you will die a most painful death' predictions!
Ah, yes... Now Draco remembered why he'd dropped the class. Divination was a real branch of magic, and predicting the future – at least parts of it – was possible. But Trelawney was a total fraud, hell Draco was sure he could have taught the class better, and get results. And he wasn't even a seer.
No! Ron! Shut up… Oh please just shut up! No! Don't say that, fuck. I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you! Wait, I take it back I hate Trelawney more - top of the list now! Congratulations Professor you just replaced Voldemort on my Most-Likely-To-Be-Murdered-By-Harry List.
Draco couldn't stop the quiet chuckle that time.
Harry groaned as Trelawney and Ron continued to speculate on how Harry was going to meet his doom. Currently all bets were on 'skewered by an enraged unicorn three days after the new moon' it was totally ridiculous.
And where, may I ask am I situated on this infamous List?
Was that Malfoys voice? Harry glanced around the room, Is he still in my head?
Malfoy snickered. Yes, Potter. It's me and I can hear your thoughts.
What!? Harry growled and had to stop himself from shouting it aloud. Why the fuck didn't you say something!? You've been listening this whole time!?
Harry checked his watch, he'd finally replaced the broken one from fourth-year during the holidays. It was the first time he'd been allowed to go out alone, since the Tournament.
It's been almost two hours since I cast the charm? How is that possible? Shouldn't it have timed-out by now?
I know, I mean… I don't know why it hasn't but I know it's been active longer it's supposed to. Maybe it's your magic Potter? You are one of the most powerful wizards of our generation, after all.
Harry froze; Was that a compliment?
Ah, no. No it wasn't – just making a statement. I would never compliment you, Potter.
Yes it was, Harry smirked. You did, you said I was powerful! Jealous Malfoy?
"-arry! Harry!" Ron shook Harry's shoulder roughly. "Oi mate, class is over. You've really been out of it today mate." Ron frowned.
Shut up Potter!
"Are you sure you're okay? I mean… I know you said you were fine. But you've said that before and you weren't fine." Ron muttered, his blue eyes watched Harry carefully.
Harry glared, Stay out of my head, Malfoy.
Ron noticed Harry's angry look, "Umm, I mean it's not that I don't believe you mate. It's just well, Hermione and I are a bit worried about you…" Ron babbled, a hurt look clouded his eyes.
When aren't you and 'Mione worried about me? Great, now he thinks I'm angry at him!
"Ron, I'm not mad at you." Harry sighed, I really don't hate you.
Liar. Malfoy teased in a sing-song kind of way, more high-pitched than his normal drawl.
"I know-" Ron sighed and handed Harry his textbook.
"Shut up!" Harry shouted, then realised he'd said it out loud and blushed.
Ron frowned again, "Okay! Alright… Sorry, let's go meet up with 'Mione."
Harry sighed, "Yeah, sorry. Let's go."
7:30pm, Wednesday, 16th December 1998
Draco snickered to himself and buried his face in his pillow. Winding up Potter was always fun, but being able to do it at any time while still in the comfort and security of his own dorm was hysterical.
Get your worthless arse down to the Great Hall so I can end this fucking spell!
Potter had been shouting for a good fifteen minutes now. Draco giggled, Potter was thinking about his arse! I hope he likes it more than Browns breasts!
I think not. Draco snidely sent back.
Fuck! You are soooo…. So, so, so ANNOYING! AHRG! Vaguely Draco wondered where Potter was and whether he was screaming insults aloud somewhere.
I know. Draco thought smugly.
Draco flinched when Potter screamed, the sound was loud and Draco couldn't put his hands over his ears because it was inside his head.
Shit, Potter! Haven't you hit puberty yet? I thought only pre-pubescent children could make a sound like that!
I hate you. You know that list? You're now number one - Most Wanted, Malfoy. Potter growled.
Most Wanted? Oh I see… Those comments about how disgusting Browns breasts were make sense now. You're ga-
That's not what I meant and you know it!
Draco laughed loudly that time; Blaise frowned at his friend as he stepped into the dorm room. "You alright there Draco? Haven't lost it have you?"
"No, Blaise. I haven't." Draco had to take a few fortifying breaths and wipe away tears, "Potter's spell is still active, but I can shield my thoughts from him. I've been stirring him up all afternoon! It's hysterical!"
Blaise gasped, "It's still active! But it's… Dinner time!"
"S-so? That spell is supposed to cancel itself after an hour! It's been, almost four hours!"
Draco shrugged, "I'm not worried. It's probably due to Potters magic. I'm sure it'll time-out eventually."
Blaise frowned, "Draco I don't think this is a good idea. Maybe you should end the spell?"
"No way! Blaise! I can hear everything! Before, in Runes, Potter was ranting about how he wanted to kill Weasel and Trelawney! He's all over the place! I had no idea he had such homicidal tendencies!" Draco giggled.
One of Blaise's eyebrows rose, "…Draco? Did you just giggle?"
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did."
"Harry stop glaring and eat!" Hermione snapped. "Really, I don't know what's wrong with you today."
"He's been like this since charms. Keeps drifting off, maybe we should take him to see Pomfrey?" Ron suggested.
Harry shook his head. "No. I'm fine. I just… I need to talk to Malfoy."
Hermione frowned, "Oh no, not this again. Harry leave him alone, he's not doing anything."
Oh yes he is, Harry grumbled and frowned letting his eyes sweep over the Slytherin table again. He wasn't here, why was Malfoy avoiding him? Didn't he want to end the spell?
"Hi Harry!" The bell-like voice startled Harry causing him to jump slightly. The owner of the voice sat heavily next to him and pulled him into a tight hug. It was Ginny.
"Ah, hi Ginny… How was class?" Harry reluctantly returned the embrace. Harry's interactions with the girl were incredibly awkward, to say the least, after the holidays and Harry's subsequent epiphany.
She shrugged, "The usual, you know? What have you guys been up to? Nothing too exciting I'd imagine! Haha!" her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled as she pulled away and popped a chip into her mouth. She was flirting with him again.
Very funny, Harry rolled his eyes. Apparently I can't experience anything exciting unless it involves a life-or-death situation.
Who thinks that? Malfoy asked.
Ginny. Harry answered absentmindedly, glancing over at the entrance again.
Ah, the She-Weasel! She any good?
Any good at what? Harry frowned, still no sign of Malfoy.
"Nothing like that – thank Merlin!" Hermione grinned. Her voice pulled Harry's attention back to his surroundings. Ron was right, he really was scatterbrained today. It was all Malfoys fault.
Ron nodded, "Harry's been a bit… Umm, distracted today." He hedged.
"By what?" Ginny asked turning concerned brown eyes back to Harry. They had lost that spark, now they held nothing but concern. Had his friends always been this, intrusive?
"It's nothing really, just weird." Harry shrugged and sipped at his juice, trying to brush off his friends again. Really, it was none of their business.
Sex, Potter! What else? Malfoys laughter rang loudly within Harry's mind, he gasped sharply, causing some of his pumpkin juice to follow the air into his lungs, Harry spluttered and coughed. Then flinched and groaned when images of Ginny naked flooded his mind.
"Oh my goodness, Harry! Are you alright?" Ginny took his goblet and started rubbing his back, cooing into Harrys ear.
Harry nodded, still coughing and tried to shift away from her touch and her hot breath in his ear. That's it, all hope of a nice relaxing wank – gone. I don't know if I'll ever be able to get it up again after THAT mental image.
I thought you were dating her? Malfoy sounded confused.
No! Harry snapped. God no! Malfoy's laugh almost sounded like a giggle. I mean, I was… But not anymore.
"Are you even listening to me?" Ginny patted his cheek and pulled his face towards her, Harry just blinked stupidly at her. "Harry? Are you alright? Do you want to go see Pomfrey?"
"Not you too! No! I do not want to go see Pomfrey. There is nothing wrong. I am fine." Harry had to force himself not to shout. He ran a hand through his hair, "I'm going to bed… I'll see you guys tomorrow."
"Harry! I-" Ginny called after him, but he didn't listen. He wanted to be alone. He couldn't think, between Malfoy laughing at him and his friends concerned looks, he felt like he couldn't breathe. At least he still had enough self-control left not to break out into a run until after he'd left the Hall.
Harry slammed his dorm room door shut. "Why can't they just leave me alone?" He shouted to the empty room. He was breathing harshly, his heart racing from the mad run up to the tower. He leant against the door and collapsed on the floor.
I wish I was still on holidays. Harry thought morosely, he ached for the peace and solitude of Grimmauld Place.
Don't we all? Harry groaned, he'd forgotten, Malfoy was still inside his head. What? Malfoy asked again, his voice was back to that annoying drawl he favoured.
Just, leave me alone. I need to think! Harry pushed his hands through his hair, gripping it tightly.
Well, it's not like I won't hear your thoughts away. Why can't I comment?
Because I don't want you too! Go away. Get out of my head! Harry growled. God it was like Malfoy wanted the connection, liked it even!
I can't. Malfoy stated in his usual mocking tone.
You refused to meet me and end the spell! Harry kicked at the door in anger, imaging it was Malfoy's face.
I know, you are much too fun to tease Potter, you should know that by now.
Maybe he really did want the connection? Harry smirked, You know what I think Malfoy? He drawled, a poor imitation of the blonds own.
I didn't know you could process thought, Potter.
Shut up! I think I'm on your Most Wanted List.
I don't make lists, Potter.
Maybe, but you still want my attention.
Maybe, but you still want my attention.
It was sickening how true that statement was. Oh if only Potter knew the exact kind of attention Draco wanted.
You wish. Draco glared at his bed's canopy and waited for a reply. When he received none Draco frowned. What are you doing?
Potters exasperated sigh cause a huge grin to break out on his face. If you must know, I'm about to have a shower. Now, please. Leave me alone.
His words caused an instant shiver to run down Draco's spine. Potter was having a shower. He was – or would be very soon - naked. And wet. And naked. Draco groaned and shifted his hips as his mind filled with a hundred past fantasies all of which featured Potter in the shower. Naked.
There was the one in the Gryffindor quidditch change rooms, were Draco would slip inside the steamy room, lock and silence the door, slip off his own sweat and mud covered quidditch robes and watch Potter step under the hot stream of water.
It was one of his favourites. Draco would silently approach Potter, watching as rivers trailed down his tanned back, washing away the mud and sweat from a hard practice. But just as Draco was about to wrap his arms around the seeker, Potter would turn and face him. Potters rough, warm hands would grasp Draco's hips tightly, lift him and slam him into the shower wall.
Their lips would clash together then, both fighting for dominance. Potter would lift him higher and Draco's legs would wrap around Potters waist. They'd press against each other and the water and lingering soap would make it easy to slide against the other, creating wonderful friction.
Eventually Potter would win and his hands would slip from his hips to cup Draco's bottom. Draco's hands would caress Potters broad shoulders and pinch his dusty brown nipples. Potter would growl, snarl, nip and bite Draco's swelling lips. Wriggle his hips, adjusting their position so that his cock would rub along Draco's crack.
Draco moaned and shifted on his bed, his own hands trailing up and down his body, caressing himself in a pale imitation of his fantasy lover. Thankfully, he'd already closed and silenced his bed's curtains. One of Draco's hands slipped inside his boxers and he began leisurely stroking himself. His eyes shut tight, allowing the familiar fantasy to continue to play out.
Potter would have already prepared him by now, spending a fair amount of time teasing Draco. Stroking his prostate, then slipping away to scissor his rough fingers at Draco entrance. But Potter's fingers would never be enough. Draco would push and pull Potter until finally, Draco would sink down on Potters length. It would be thick, scorching hot and aching for Draco.
He'd thrust just a little to ensure Draco was deeply penetrated, then pause for Draco adjust. Draco would open his eyes and lock gazes with Potter, his eyes would be dark green, his pupils blown with desire. His glasses never featured in any of Draco's fantasies. Potter would lean forward and press their foreheads together, their breath would mingle, both of them gasping and panting with barely restrained desire.
Then the rough, wild sex would begin. Draco always imagined Potter to be like an animal in bed, all instinct and raw desire – like a lion – or some other predator. And Draco was his prey. It was never 'making love' in Draco's fantasies, just 'fucking'. Draco's hand sped up as his fantasy-self began to reach orgasm.
Potter would press them against the shower wall, harder and harder, Draco's cock would rub against the seekers abs. As they neared completion Draco would claw at Potter back and press back against every thrust, they'd both be loud, screaming each other's names as they came together.
"H-Harry…" Draco whimpered as he felt his hot seed cover his hand and the inside of his boxers.
Harry froze, toothbrush still in his mouth and stared at his reflection. The voice had been so quiet, barely a whisper that he wasn't sure he'd actually heard it. However, it had sounded fantastic. He'd never heard his name sound like that.
When he didn't hear anything more he shrugged to himself and finished cleaning his teeth. Malfoy had been blissfully silent while he'd been showering. Harry had intentionally kept his mind blank the whole time. The thought of Malfoy hearing his thoughts about cleaning himself was more than a little disturbing.
The real question was why Malfoy didn't want to end the spell? Surely hearing Harry's random thoughts was as distracting and annoying as Harry found Malfoys to be? Or was Harry's earlier teasing correct and Malfoy just wanted attention?
Harry sighed heavily as he pulled back his duvet and climbed into bed. With a swish of his wand his bed's curtains swirled shut, a flick and this dorm mates wouldn't be woken up by Harry's nightmares. He settled into a comfortable position and let his mind drift.
Harry could still remember the feelings of freedom he'd experienced while alone at Grimmauld Place. He had only spent a few days mourning the dead before distracting himself with cleaning up the old townhouse. There was something incredibly therapeutic about ripping down musty old wallpaper, blasting down walls and setting fire to racist opinionated portraits.
Sirius would not recognise the place now. Harry had worked night and day for weeks, stripping the place, even the carpet had been removed only to find the most beautiful floorboards Harry'd ever seen hidden underneath. He'd even gotten a little over enthusiastic one night and destroyed both the kitchen and bathroom. He'd been forced to visit the Burrow for a shower that night.
The best part, at least in Harry's opinion was that his freedom hadn't been limited to venting his frustration with a sledge hammer at 3am. He no longer needed guards or chaperones, he could visit Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade or even Knockturn if he'd wanted to, whenever he wished. And so, slowly Grimmauld Place was re-painted, the floorboards polished, new furniture replaced old and eventually for the first time, Harry had a place to call his own. Home.
Then the boredom had set it. It was only mid-July by that time and he would not return to school until September 1st. Therefore, Harry decided to be a normal teenager and go out, dance, drink, meet people and enjoy life. It was during this time spent out at night that Harry's ignorance was exposed.
Those first few nights he had been too shy to join the writhing couples on the dance floor. But one night, in a mammoth effort to forget the war and forget the nightmares Harry had a bit too much to drink. A scenario that had been repeated one too many times for Harry's liking, and all of them filled with harsh truths about himself.
He'd woken up at home, in his own bed at least, but he hadn't been alone. And it hadn't been a girl he'd taken home and bedded that night, or any other night after that. By September 1st Harry had lost count of the number of one-night stands he'd had. But it wasn't what he wanted, or needed. Harry wanted his happily ever after, but he was sure he wouldn't find that in any gay muggle nightclubs.
Maybe I shouldn't stay at Hogwarts, I could give 'Mione and Ron the slip and go home for Christmas.
Trouble in paradise Potter? Malfoy interrupted.
Oh god no… I'd forgotten about Malfoy! Harry rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.
Forgotten me? Well, can't have that can we? I'll just have to keep you up all night, and tomorrow I can guarantee you'll still be thinking about me. Malfoy laughed.
Harry's mind filled with images at the innuendo. Malfoy naked, beneath him, Malfoy flushed and panting in desire. Malfoy bent over, arse in the air, his back arched, hands gripping the posts of Harrys bed so tightly his knuckles turned white. The Prince of Slytherin, ravished, in a bed of Gryffindor scarlet and gold.
Holy fuck, that's hot.
Holy fuck, that's hot.
Draco frowned, what was Potter thinking about now?
What's hot? Draco asked.
What? Potter's voice sounded breathless, even within Draco's mind.
You said, 'that's hot', what's hot?
Ah, umm… Nothing. Let me sleep. Potter spluttered.
It must be good if he's this flustered, Draco thought. He could almost imagine the flush on Potters face. No, I don't think so-
Well I do. Potter snapped. Now shut it and let me sleep.
Draco sighed. Fine, but I'll find out eventually Potter.
Sleep Malfoy, you need more beauty sleep. Potter teased.
Draco growled, Fuck off, Potter.