Chapter One: Trouble at the Burrow
Harry Potter stared at the fireplace in the sitting room of number 4 Privet Drive. His Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia glared from the kitchen but otherwise said nothing. Harry knew they hated being up this early; he also knew they didn't trust him. His trunk and broom were at his side, a caged Hedwig atop the trunk. With shaky hands, he ripped open the envelope containing the precious Floo powder. A temporary connection would open at 5 am, arranged by Mr Weasley. That was three minutes away.
The shouting and arguing had happened five weeks earlier, and Harry had paid for this quiet moment with hard labour. Aunt Petunia's garden had never looked better, the house was freshly painted--inside and out -- every window sparkled, and every surface that could be wiped clean produced a near mirror image.
But the aches and pains of his summer labours were washed away as adrenaline swept through him. Harry would be sixteen in two days and for the first time he would be able to spend his birthday with friends.
While the final minutes ticked away, Harry acknowledged he was ambivalent about leaving. Certainly he hated his time at the Dursleys, but at least here he wasn't surrounded by spells, ghosts, or talking portraits -- in other words, anything magical. And for the few weeks of summer, Harry needed that temporary withdrawal. His own heavy memories of Sirius threatened to suffocate him. He didn't need the constant reminders life in the wizarding world would provide. He'd been grateful for his dull, but labour intensive existence. Dwelling on Sirius' death awakened a grief that only monotonous, mindless chores could dampen.
He missed his friends though, and he wanted to know about Voldemort; his scar had been surprisingly dormant since he returned to Privet Drive. Harry was able to relay messages by using a magical scroll book Dumbledore sent him. But he wasn't to send Hedwig out and no owls were allowed to come to him. Instead, he wrote in the charmed book and his words appeared in a complementary scroll the headmaster kept. The headmaster never wrote back, instead a glowing blue rune appeared on the cover each time he shut the scroll book -- a confirmation his message had been sent.
Now that everyone finally believed Voldemort was back, Dumbledore thought his plans would become desperate and the headmaster didn't want to risk Harry being discovered through a trail of owls in a concentrated Muggle area. Yesterday though, at long last, a single owl from Ron and Mr Weasley containing the Floo powder had arrived, along with permission from the headmaster to spend the rest of his summer at the Burrow. It was this that jerked him out of his melancholic haze; he was more than ready to rejoin the wizarding world, his friends, and his real life.
Aunt Petunia's hideous cherub-draped clock on the mantle chimed. Without a glance at his blood family, he stepped close to the fireplace, tossed in the power, shouted "The Burrow" and felt the familiar pull and whoosh. Seconds later he landed arse first covered in soot on the floor of the Weasley kitchen.
"Harry!" Ron's voice called.
Mrs Weasley rushed over. "Here Harry, let's clean you up," she said.
Harry's face was wiped clean of ash with a damp cloth. He was then bent forward and enveloped in a soft, warm bosom that nearly suffocated him. He was too embarrassed to tell her to let go.
"Mum," Ron complained. "Leave him alone."
"Now Ronald, Harry can do with a bit of a hug, can't you dear?" She said, looking at Harry closely.
"Um, yeah sure," Harry mumbled.
Ron dragged him away. "Come on up." The two boys left the kitchen and ran up the stairs to Ron's room.
The house was quiet. "Dad's asleep and Ginny's visiting Luna," Ron yawned as they entered the familiar mess that was Ron's bedroom. He flopped on the bed and waved a hand at the empty one.
"I’m knackered, mate. I need sleep." He yawned again. "I had to save you from mum though," he whispered, and gave Harry a sheepish grin.
"She's a bit, uh, hungry for kids. Only Ginny and me left in the house now." He yawned yet again. "Didn't want her mauling you."
Harry, filled with a mix of relief to be there and irritation at Ron for wanting to go back to sleep, simply nodded.
"Sure Ron, it's too early to talk anyway."
"Yeah," mumbled Ron sleepily, already getting comfortable under the covers.
Five minutes later, Harry drifted to sleep listening to Ron's rhythmic snoring, but not before he noticed Mrs Weasley poke her head in the room and out again.
::
"Harry," Ron called.
"Huh, what?" Harry woke up, grabbed his glasses and faced Ron.
A dizzy smile covered Ron's freckled face, and Harry matched it with one of his own. His earlier irritation vanished completely.
"Hermione will be here this afternoon," Ron said as they both scrambled out of bed, and neither boy bothered to change their rumpled clothing.
The savoury smells of breakfast, all the more aromatic because Harry had not been the one cooking, greeted them. Molly Weasley bustled around the kitchen with familiar ease, dodging various whirling cooking gadgets that continued to stir and chop, mix and measure.
Harry gave Mrs Weasley a wide smile as he sat down. Just being around the Weasleys comforted him more than he had ever expected. Sirius-pains, as he had begun calling them, were still present, but the pain was blunted as the love of family surrounded him in a nimbus of peace.
"All right there, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Fine Ron, just glad to be here," Harry said, as he stood and stretched. He ambled over to grab some toast.
"Hmm," Ron's mouth was stuffed with food.
"Goodness Harry, look how skinny you've become!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed. She grabbed his arm and tutted. She turned to snatch a stray floating tea bag. Ron and Harry heard her mutter angrily. "How anyone can not feed a growing boy is beyond me."
Harry knew the extra work he'd done, coupled with the usual lack of food had caused him to drop an alarming amount of weight. He turned to look at himself in the mirror he remembered being over the mantelpiece, but it was gone.
"Where's the mirror?" he asked.
Ron avoided his eyes, but Mrs Weasley answered, still cooking, "Oh, I'm afraid there was an accident a few weeks ago, and it broke," she said sadly.
"Oh, all right then." Harry shrugged. "I hope I can still play Seeker. Well, that is, if I can still play." He hoped that with Umbridge gone, he'd be able to play Quidditch again.
Ron slathered jam on his toast. "I'm sure. Besides, the team will want you back."
A loud crash startled them. They turned to Mrs Weasley, who was picking up a frying pan. "Sorry my dears, I don't know what's got into me." She laughed shakily.
"Need help there Mum?" Ron asked.
"No, you two go on. Eat up!"
Ron grabbed a few biscuits and the two boys strolled into the sitting room.
"Look, I know your mum's gonna be upset if I take Ginny's place on the team," Harry whispered. "And Ginny'll probably be mad too, but, well you know, right?"
Ron nodded. "Yeah, but Ginny's fine. She'd rather be Chaser anyway. She'll understand. Mum too, honestly."
Harry sat down, slightly relieved, and noticed the Daily Prophet on the floor. The word Malfoy caught his eye so he grabbed the paper. Draco Malfoy's pale pointed face graced the cover, and a huge mansion filled the space behind him. His arms were crossed and his usual sour expression of distaste was evident.
"What's this?" Harry asked.
"Huh? Let's see." Ron leaned over Harry's shoulder and read the headline aloud.
"Malfoy Heir Finally Found. Maybe they'll stop putting his stupid face on the cover now," Ron groused. "All summer long, it's been Malfoy this and Malfoy that. I'm sick of the tosser." He snorted. "Even Ginny's been following the stories."
Harry barely heard him; he was skimming the article.
Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy riches and only son of confirmed Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, was found hiding in one of the lofts of the famed estate, Malfoy Manor. After the disappearance of Narcissa Malfoy earlier this summer, an extensive search in efforts to find the boy proved useless.There was more but Harry stopped reading. He felt sorry for Tonks. He doubted Malfoy would ask her to make funny faces complete with strangely shaped noses.
"That place is a death-trap. There are whole sections of the house we can't even access," Merry Stickerboom, the Child Services representative assigned to the case, declared weeks ago. With the help of Hogwarts Professor Severus Snape, the boy was finally discovered last night. He has been made a ward of Nymphadora Tonks, one of his last remaining free relatives.
"Poor Tonks." Ron laughed.
"What about Tonks?" Arthur Weasley walked in the room, hastily pulling a cloak around him. "Harry!"
Mr Weasley shook Harry's hand vigorously. "It's so good to see you again my boy! I trust your time wasn't too awful with your Aunt and Uncle?"
"The same," Harry said, shrugging.
Ron thrust the paper at his father. "They found Malfoy."
Mr Weasley read the article rapidly, and made humming noises while he finished. "Well, Tonks will do her best, though I imagine the boy's a handful."
"It will be difficult for Ms Tonks, that's certainly true," Mrs Weasley said, entering the room with a plate of food.
Ron pulled out the sports section and joined Harry on the couch.
Harry read the other headlines on the cover as Mr Weasley flipped through the rest of the Prophet. More Death Eaters Found!and Signs Your Neighbour Is a Death Eater, by Emory Bootblacker, former Auror, Order of Merlin, Third Class."
"What's all this, Mr Weasley?" Harry asked, pointing out the headlines.
Mr Weasley flipped the paper over and sighed. "This, Harry, is why I'm never at home anymore." He cast a swift, guilty look at his wife. Mrs Weasley merely snorted.
"You see, Harry," Mr Weasley began, sitting down with the two boys on the couch. "Now that the Ministry has acknowledged You-Know-Who's return, Fudge has gone in the opposite direction. Homes are being raided on the slightest suspicion. The holding cells at the Ministry are filled, and those of us who don't even work in that division are being pulled to help investigate."
"Investigate what?" Harry asked.
"Death Eater claims. Every day another dozen people are reported. Even Professor Snape was detained a week ago."
Harry felt a surge of satisfaction at that. "Did they find anything on him?" he asked.
Ron choked and biscuit crumbs sprayed all over the Quidditch article he was reading.
"Ronald," Mrs Weasley complained.
"Professor Snape is in the Order," Mr Weasley said, his eyes sad and disapproving as he stared at Harry. "He's back at Hogwarts now."
Harry turned away, embarrassed.
Mr Weasley cleared his throat and stood up. "I'm off to the Ministry."
"Have some food before you go at least," Mrs Weasley said coldly, pushing the plate his way.
Mr Weasley grunted, dropped the paper unceremoniously on the floor, and absently plucked a bit of toast from the plate. He didn't look at his wife, not even to kiss her goodbye. "Well then, I'm off. See you later." He Disapparated with a loud pop. Mrs Weasley sighed loudly and left the room.
Harry looked to Ron, who was studying the newspaper article a little too intently. "What's with your mum and dad?"
"Just leave it Harry," Ron grunted.
Harry didn't know what to say. It was clear something was going on with Ron's parents, but Harry wasn't about to press for more information.
"Want to fly?"
"Yeah, let's," Ron answered with a grateful smile.
After a few hours of strenuous flying and Snitch chasing, Ron and Harry collapsed in the garden and watched the gnomes sneaking about. The air was mildly muggy so Harry pulled his shirt out and fanned himself.
"Why was Malfoy hiding?"
"Dad says he must have realised when his mum went missing that he wouldn't be allowed to stay there. He must hate being with Tonks." Ron sounded happy.
Harry was glad to think of Malfoy unhappy. He ignored the tiny dart of guilt that poked at him for not feeling sorry for Malfoy. He knew exactly how it felt to be without a mother and, he realized with sudden clarity, it would be worse for Malfoy, because he’d had his mother, and then lost her. Well, she was missing, not dead. She was probably a Death Eater anyway, so good riddance, Harry concluded.
"Mum and dad have been fighting for a couple of weeks now," Ron said softly.
Harry watched a gnome pop up and gaze stupidly at them.
"I don't even know how it started. Percy's still the world's biggest prat, and Fred and George moved out three weeks ago. But they were fine then." Ron rolled over on to his stomach and began to pluck idly at the high grass. "They had a huge row the night dad said he arranged for you to come. That's how the mirror in the kitchen broke. Mum threw a pot at it."
Harry's stomach was alive with butterflies and he couldn't keep the catch out of his voice. "She didn't want me to come?"
"No, it wasn't anything like that. It wasn't you, I'm sure. That's just when I heard them yelling at each other the first time." He sighed and flopped onto his back. "I think that's why Ginny didn't wait for you to come around. It's weird around here. Dad's never home and mum is so clingy. Well, more than usual," he added.
"I was thinking Harry," Ron began. "I was wondering --"
"What?"
"It's nothing." Ron mumbled.
"What is it Ron? Tell me," Harry said.
"You know that Grimmauld Place isn't the Order's headquarters anymore, right? I heard Dad telling mum about it, something about Kreacher and Mrs Malfoy, before she went missing, anyway. Only Professor Lupin lives there now."
"Yeah," Harry said thickly, his throat closing, and he looked at the gnomes again.
"When Hermione comes, maybe we could go there. I mean, it's more your place than Lupin's, isn't it?"
"No."
"No, it's not your place, or no we can't go?"
"No, Ron. I just can't yet, okay. Don't ask me again," Harry said firmly.
"But Harry, I just thought you might want to--"
Harry jumped up and went back into the house. He couldn't believe Ron had pushed him like that. Did he really think he was over Sirius already? It was eerily quiet in the Burrow. For the first time in his life, he wished he was washing dishes back at number 4 Privet Drive.
::
Harry knew he was taking a risk. Hermione would arrive any minute; Ron could walk in any second. He was under the covers in the twins' bedroom and his hands drifted lazily down. He eased down his trousers and pulled out his cock. Wanking, along with house work and heavy weeding, was the one other activity that took his mind away from depressing matters, albeit briefly. He bit his lip as he stroked quietly. He imagined Padma Patil, his most recent wank girl. He'd stopped thinking of Cho ages ago; whenever he saw her in his mind, all he saw was a tear streaked face.
He frowned in concentration; it seemed like this was getting more difficult each time. Padma's pretty face morphed into Lavender Brown's and her long legs, then into Hermione's burgeoning curvy figure.
He stroked faster, panting now. Unbidden, Malfoy's pale face surfaced, a perfect replica of the image in the Daily Prophet. Alarmed beyond belief, he shuddered and came. A memory of Malfoy, sweaty after a Quidditch match, complete with a snarl on his face, burned into Harry's brain as the last few spurts dribbled over his fingers.
Harry shook with dismay, shocked to the core. He tried to rationalize what had just happened. He'd just read an article about Malfoy; that had to be it. He wasn't queer, and even if he was, it wouldn't be over Draco bloody Malfoy. Not wanting to waste another thought on Malfoy, Harry cleaned up and went downstairs to wait with Ron for Hermione.
Mrs Weasley greeted him at the foot of the stairs. "Come for a bit of tea, Harry."
He followed her into the sitting room, where he found Ron on the couch. Their eyes met and Ron shrugged his shoulders in apology. Harry took a sip of tea and barely nodded. He wasn't going to fight with Ron.
A loud noise from the fireplace drew their attention.
"Hermione!" Ron shouted, and jumped up to run to the kitchen.
"I'm here," yelled Hermione. "And so are two owls. Oh my goodness! Ron, Harry! Come in here quick!" she squealed in excitement.
Harry and Mrs Weasley were quick on Ron's heels. Hermione, with her trunk, Crookshanks, and piles of books around her, grinned when she saw them.
Hermione and Ron both held identical official looking cream coloured scrolls.
"It's our marks from the O.W.L. examinations. It has to be," Hermione breathed, nearly reverently.
A beautiful white and grey owl, almost a twin to Hedwig, dropped a final scroll in Harry's waiting hand. Ron clutched his parchment and sat back on the couch, red faced and nervous looking. The second owl, one they recognised as a Hogwarts owl, dropped three school supply lists.
"Go on then, open it up Ron!" Mrs Weasley demanded excitedly, eyes shining in anticipation.
Hermione sat next to Ron slowly, breathing carefully. "I don't want to look. I'm too nervous."
"What are you worried about Hermione? You know you'll get an 'O' on everything." Ron said irritably.
Hermione shot him a dark look that quickly softened. "You think so?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course."
Harry sat on the other side of Hermione, and carefully peeled back the wax on his own scroll.
Dear Mr. Potter,
Below you will find the marks you earned on your Ordinary Wizarding Levels examinations.
Astronomy Acceptable Care of Magical Creatures Outstanding Charms Exceeds Expectations Defence Against the Dark Arts Outstanding Divination Poor Herbology Acceptable History of Magic Acceptable Potions Exceeds Expectations Transfigurations Exceeds Expectations
Department of Magical Examinations
Care of Hogwarts School of Wizardry
Before Harry could react, Hermione's shriek filled the air. "Oh! I have to tell my Mum! She'll be so pleased. I'll be right back." Within seconds she was gone through the fireplace again.
"Well," said Ron, "I think we know how many 'Outstandings' Hermione got."
"How'd you do in Defence?" Harry was sure Ron received an 'O', if in nothing else.
Ron's smile was huge, "An 'O', and that's not the only one. I got one in Care of Magical Creatures." He passed the scroll to Mrs Weasley, who snatched it eagerly.
"Oh, Ronnie this is wonderful! Just wait till I tell your father! I must --" her happy face wilted and Harry felt bad for them both as Ron frowned in embarrassment.
Mrs Weasley ignored his reaction and brightly declared, "Tonight we'll have a special treat." She gave Ron his scroll and left the boys alone.
Harry and Ron compared scrolls, and laughed together when they saw matching marks for each course listed.
"I can't believe it," Harry said, pointing at his Potions mark.
"Yeah," agreed Ron.
Harry was surprised, but he knew it still wasn't high enough to get into Advanced Potions. He briefly worried about this development, but put it out of his mind. He'd sulked enough this summer.
Hermione flooed back in, still clutching her scroll, her face flushed pink with pleasure. Harry felt a quick guilty flutter in his stomach, as less than ten minutes earlier he had pulled off imagining her. Again Malfoy's face rose in his mind. Harry scowled, and concentrated on what Ron and Hermione were saying.
"-- been found. I know, I read it this morning in the Prophet," Hermione said, and then thoughtfully, "I wonder how Malfoy did in Ancient Runes."
"Never mind him," Harry said hotly. "Let's plan our trip to Diagon Alley."
"We can do that later Harry; we need to plan your birthday party," Hermione said.
"You'd rather plan my party than buy school supplies?" Harry said incredulously.
"Well," Hermione said, surprising them both, "it's early yet in the summer and," she paused and said in a small voice, "I know you've never had a party before and I want it to be special."
Harry turned to Ron, who said, "Harry, where is Hermione?"
"I dunno. Maybe she's at the library and this is a Polyjuiced impostor."
"Honestly, you two! You'd think I've never relaxed before," she huffed.
"Hermione," Ron said in a serious voice, "you haven't."
Harry laughed at Hermione's scowl.
"Come on, Hermione," Ron said, pulling her to her feet. "Let's work on Harry's party."
For the next couple of hours, Hermione carefully penned invitations. Mrs Weasley supplied the three with tea and biscuits. She sat with them and created the party menu. Ron and Harry suggested different names and different dishes.
“If we invite Colin Creevey to the party he’ll take great pictures,” suggested Ron.
“I wouldn’t leave him out,” Hermione insisted when Harry groaned at Ron’s mention of ‘Creevey’ and ‘party’ in the same sentence.
Ron scanned the list of names Hermione had been adding to while she worked on the invitations. "Okay, that's it for students, anyone else?"
Harry thought out loud, "Hagrid, Dumbledore, Sirius--" He couldn't stop the word before it tumbled out.
Mrs Weasley looked up sharply. "Oh, Harry," she said.
Hermione's eyes sparkled with tears, and Ron cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, what about some of the Order members Harry?"
Harry nodded quickly, grateful for Ron's friendship. "Yeah, how about Remus and Tonks too?" Hermione bit her lip, bent her head and wrote the names down.
"Anyone else?" she asked.
Harry shook his head. Mrs Weasley looked at the list, and a bit of tension crossed her brow. "Quite a list here Harry; that's a lot of food."
"Oh, I'll pay for the party!" Harry insisted. She waved a hand at him distractedly. "That's fine dear." She wandered out of the room still holding the list.
"Mrs Weasley, I need the list please. I'm not done with the invitations." Hermione sounded embarrassed she had to ask. Ron frowned fiercely, slumping down in his seat.
Mrs Weasley gave it back saying, "Just leave the list and invitations on the table when you're done my dear." She left.
"Ron, what is wrong with--"
"Nothing!"
"Why are you yelling at--"
"Just leave it, Hermione!" Ron stomped out of the room.
Harry quickly told Hermione what he'd seen earlier and how Ron wanted to go to number 12 Grimmauld Place.
"They'd never let us go alone anyway, even if you wanted to go," Hermione said reasonably.
Harry began to wonder if staying at the Burrow was still a good idea.
That night he dreamed of Sirius.
Chapter Two: A Birthday to Remember
Harry woke up early on the morning of July 31st. He could hear Ron softly snoring and the unmistakable sound of Mrs Weasley tinkering in the kitchen. Hermione, Ginny and Luna were bunking in Ginny's room and his morning wood swelled as his imagination went into overdrive. With a quick glance at Ron's sleeping form, he ducked into the bathroom for some privacy.
Before settling down, he noticed a recent edition the Daily Prophet on the floor. Malfoy's face sneered at him from the cover. Harry swore, instantly angry and inexplicably rock-hard. He snatched the paper and turned it over. Scowling but still needy, he stroked himself quickly and forced himself to imagine girls. Any girl. It was ultimately a long and frustrating toss, but at least Malfoy's face didn't appear in his mind this time.
After his bath, while getting ready for the day back in Ron's room, Harry peered in the mirror to look for evidence of whiskers. He pressed close up to the glass. A flash of movement in the mirror caused his heart to beat triple-time. He whirled around, but no one was there. Ron had gone into the bathroom a few minutes earlier. His heart still pounding, he stood back and looked at the mirror again. Nothing.
Harry tried to ignore the rising feeling of unease, but it stayed with him even after he finished dressing. He darted a quick look at the mirror once more, and felt extremely foolish when he met his own startled reflection.
"Don't worry! No spots, but PLEASE, fix your hair!" the mirror screeched.
"Um, hello there," Harry said hesitantly, "anyone in there with you?"
"Brush your hair," it admonished.
Harry sighed, finger-combed his hair uselessly, and went down to the kitchen.
Mrs Weasley, in her usual place at the centre of the kitchen, greeted Harry cheerfully. He snatched some sausages and waited for Ron. Ginny and Luna strolled in lazily, giggling and murmuring. Harry eyed them warily. Since they'd arrived, the two had been inseparable, smirking and secretive. Ginny had barely spoken to Harry; instead she had snatched up editions of the Daily Prophet, seemingly entranced with the articles on Draco Malfoy.
The girls were both wearing bright blue elegantly tailored robes. Mrs Weasley had taken them to a new dress shop the day before to buy robes for Harry's party. Hermione had gone with them and she had returned with lilac robes. She blushed rather prettily when she told Ron and Harry sheepishly that even though the cut was archaic, it was exquisitely fashioned and coming back in style.
Ron's and Harry's eyes both had glazed over, but she had continued. The store was called Fantastic Frocks, and was packed with customers, she told them; girls were there from all the school houses. Madam Malkin's was still the only place to get student robes, but the new shop had such gorgeous every day and special occasion dress robes and was galleons cheaper than Madam Malkin's. It was rumoured that Madam Scurdonna was an old school rival of Madam Malkin's and was said to be undercutting her on purpose.
"Competition is good for the economy, and now everyone can wear fancy robes if they want to," Hermione added thoughtfully.
At that point, Ron said, "I know all about that store. Mum and Ginny discovered it weeks ago. We found that place when we helped the twins move into their joke shop; it's right next door. It's great because whenever Mum and Ginny want to shop there, I get to hang out with Fred and George and test the new tricks." He frowned at the end of that statement, as if only just realising what testing for his brothers entailed
Harry was brought back to the present by Luna's breathy "Good morning." She smiled dreamily at Harry, eyes bright and face flushed.
Ginny poked her in the side and whispered in her ear. Luna blushed and laughed hysterically. Mrs Weasley slammed a large wheel of cheese meant for Harry's party on the table, startling the three teens.
"Ginny dear, why don't you and Luna go outside? I'd like to talk to Harry alone," she said, falsely sweet.
"Sure thing, Mum!" Ginny said brightly. Before dragging Luna away, she turned to Harry. "Happy Birthday Harry!"
Harry swallowed nervously, and wished Ron and Hermione would come down. He had a feeling Mrs Weasley wanted to talk about his slip when he mentioned Sirius' name. But he couldn't just get up and walk out. Mrs Weasley was the closest thing to a mother he'd ever had.
"Harry, Happy Birthday my dear." She rested a hand on his arm, and squeezed it. Harry smiled weakly.
"Thank you," he said.
"Sirius Black was one of my oldest and best friends, and if you ever want to talk about him, I'll listen. I may even have a few amusing stories to share."
Harry blinked slowly, at a total loss. Sirius was one of Mrs Weasley's best friends? When had this happened? Before he could question that, she spoke again.
"And I thought perhaps, you could, if you wanted to, that is -- you could call me mum. I wouldn't mind at all," she finished earnestly.
Harry's mouth dropped open. "What?" he choked out, shocked and uncomfortable all at once.
"I know this last year has been horrible for you, and then you getting packed off to your horrid Aunt and Uncle. Well, they were hardly any help I'm sure, and I wanted you to know that I'm here and you can talk to me if ever you need it."
Harry didn't know what to say. He was still thunderstruck at the suggestion of him calling her mum, never mind her assertion that Sirius was one her best friends. The last time he'd seen them together, she'd called Sirius all sorts of names and had clearly questioned the motivation of his relationship with Harry. Harry is not James! she had yelled.
Ron's timely entrance saved him from answering. The red-haired boy mumbled a good morning. Harry was the only one to see Mrs Weasley's lips tighten. Her constant hovering was making him anxious and he again pondered the wisdom of staying at the Burrow. He had another alternative, but Grimmauld Place was too entwined with his sorrow to be a viable place.
"All right there, Harry?" Ron questioned.
"What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine," Harry said, unclenching the hands that were gripping his cup tightly.
Mrs Weasley left, murmuring something about party food as she walked out. He looked at Ron gratefully. At least he was still normal.
"Harry, everyone's gone mental here," Ron complained. "We need to go somewhere else."
"I agree," Hermione chimed in, as she walked into the kitchen and joined them at the table. She lowered her voice. "Ginny and Luna are acting very strangely." She leaned in, and Harry and Ron bent their heads to hers.
"I don't understand what's got into them. They don't want to talk about school, or the D.A. group, or even my O.W.L. marks. They want to talk about boys, which is perfectly normal, but Neville Longbottom? You should hear what they're saying, especially Luna -- it's unnerving." Hermione shuddered in obvious distaste.
"They talk about Neville?" Ron asked in disbelief.
Hermione nodded. "And Ginny doesn't even want to play Quidditch this year."
"What?" Harry and Ron exclaimed in unison.
"Yes, I do," Ginny said coolly, as she and Luna walked in. "What are you on about Hermione?"
Harry shared a quick look with Ron, who then glared at his sister. "Why would Hermione say you didn't want to play?"
"I don't know, Ron!" Ginny snapped.
"You said last night that Quidditch was a waste of time. Honestly, make up your mind," Hermione said casually, clearly trying to cover up her embarrassment at being caught gossiping.
Ginny leaned into Hermione's personal space. "I'm a girl, Hermione. I'm allowed to change my mind." She straightened back up, her arms across her chest.
Luna giggled again as she peeled a banana. She held the fruit in her mouth rather suggestively, Harry noticed, seemingly unaware of her lewdness.
Hermione raised her eyebrows at Harry, a clear 'see what I mean' expression on her face.
Ron choked on his tea, turned scarlet, mumbled "Silly girls" and quit the kitchen in a hurry.
Luna giggled at Ron's departure and smiled vaguely at the banana.
Ginny sat in Ron's vacated chair and declared airily, "I do hope you can play Quidditch this year, Harry. I'm sure Dra--Malfoy misses playing against you."
"What is with you bringing up Malfoy constantly?" Hermione asked, clearly exasperated.
Harry was curious too. Ginny's interest in Draco the past two days was thinly disguised; she had wormed his name into nearly every conversation.
"Ginny fancies him," Luna said, and giggled yet again.
"How dare you suggest such a thing?" Ginny yelled.
"Girls!" Mrs Weasley reprimanded, coming back in with an armload of pineapples. "Today is Harry's day. Could you please have your disagreement elsewhere?"
"Yes, Mum," Ginny murmured, shooting a dark glance at Luna.
"Oh, yes. I wouldn't dream of ruining Harry's birthday," Luna said seriously.
Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry, barely containing her annoyance.
"Now," Mrs Weasley said briskly, "we have party preparations to attend to! The guests will arrive a few hours after lunch. That gives us enough time to get the house, the food, and ourselves ready."
Harry blinked when Hermione threw her arms around him. “Oh! Happy Birthday Harry!”
After retrieving Ron, the five teenagers were set to work on various tasks. Before Harry went outside, he saw Luna helping Mrs Weasley cut up pineapples and prepare sausages, while Hermione and Ron played with and arranged charmed birthday decorations that sang, danced in the air, and flashed different colours. Ginny and Harry got to work moving tables and chairs together on the lawn.
Ginny was lost in her own thoughts, and was so distracted that Harry ended up doing most of the work himself. At one point, Ginny excused herself in a rush. He didn't mind that so much, as it gave him a chance to think about what Mrs Weasley had asked him.
He respected Mrs Weasley, but she wasn't his mother. Her family troubles were obvious to Harry; Percy was still gone, Mr Weasley was barely around, and now she had only two kids left in the house. And although Harry knew Mrs Weasley had begun to see him as one of her own, and as much as he wanted to placate her, he couldn't do it. He sighed heavily. He knew it was selfish, but he hated that Ron's parents were fighting. Ron's family was his anchor. He didn't want to lose it.
Ginny came back out holding a small, shiny, flat stick and promptly apologised.
"I'm so sorry Harry. I meant to help more," Ginny said, and proceeded to file her nails.
"It's fine," Harry said, blinking slowly. She was all dressed up. No, Harry conceded, she was polished looking. Not a hair was out of place, and her clothes fit her slender build elegantly.
"Harry, will you be running the DA group again this year?" She tilted her head to the side. A single red curl fell against a lightly freckled cheekbone.
"Um, I don't know. It depends on what kind of teacher we get this year," Harry said.
"Mmm," she murmured, still intent on her nails.
"Yeah." Harry couldn't help himself, and though it bothered him immensely, he asked anyway. "Ginny, what's going on with you and Draco Malfoy?"
Her eyes flashed nervously. "Nothing, Harry. Honestly. Is it so wrong to feel sorry for someone who has lost his mother? I would think you of all people would understand that."
To Harry's complete surprise, Ginny actually had tears in her eyes. The guilt he had so neatly buried about feeling sorry for Malfoy's missing mother surfaced again but he ignored it. He'd had enough of Ginny's odd preoccupation with Malfoy.
"All I know is that Malfoy deserves any unhappiness he gets," he spat, and walked into the house.
Mrs Weasley and Luna spoke in low voices in the kitchen, and Ron and Hermione laughed as brightly coloured birthday decorations zoomed around the Weasley house, careening off walls and furniture. Pig and Hedwig flew among the adornments, and Harry's frustration with Ginny evaporated as he delighted in the vibrant display.
"Happy Birthday Harry!" Ron yelled, dodging a fluorescent purple firecracker tumbling over in crazy cartwheels. "I forgot to tell you this morning!"
Harry smiled and joined him, fully ready to enjoy an afternoon with friends.
Mrs Weasley pulled out her wand and with a flick of the wrist, temporarily immobilised the decorations, before serving them a light lunch. Luna and Ginny sat at opposite ends of the table. Luna read the Quibbler while Ginny and Hermione spoke quietly. Harry couldn't hear what the two girls were saying, but Ginny kept shooting Harry glances, but he did his best to ignore her. It was easy to do as Ron brought Harry up to date on the latest Quidditch news. He knew Hermione would fill him in on anything Ginny had to say anyway.
::
"Do you think everyone will come?" Harry asked Ron later in the bedroom, as he tried to comb through his hair. The invitations had gone out rather late, after all.
"Yeah," Ron said, smoothing down his shirt as he looked in the mirror. Harry noticed Ron taking extra care in his appearance.
"Harry," Ron said slowly, "I've just had a scary thought." He faced Harry. "What if Tonks brings Malfoy along?" He sounded horrified.
Harry's stomach dropped and he sat on the bed, staring at Ron with wide eyes. "She wouldn't do that," he said weakly. "Would she?"
Ron shook his head. "I wouldn't think so, but if she's his guardian, she probably has to keep an eye on him." He frowned.
A knock sounded on the door and the boys heard Hermione. "Can I come in?"
Ron pulled her in and told her what he realised. She looked thoughtful before saying, "If she does, we'll just have to be civil and ignore him."
"Hermione, that git insulted my mum and threatened to kill Harry last year. You expect us to be nice?"
"It's true," Harry added, also remembering the fight on the Quidditch pitch and his subsequent expulsion from the game. His jaw tightened. "If Malfoy shows up at my party, I'll--"
"What Harry? You'll fight him?" Hermione demanded, looking cross.
"Well, I'm not going to share crisps and tea with him!" Harry said angrily.
"Yeah! Honestly, Hermione, whose side are you on?" Ron added.
Hermione took a deep breath. "There's no need to get excited, we don't even know if she'll bring him to the party. The article in the Prophet said Professor Snape helped find him. Maybe he's watching him. Who knows where he could be right now?"
"More importantly, who cares?" Harry said.
"Right," Ron said, nodding his head emphatically.
"Obviously you two care," Hermione said. "I'm sorry," she added quickly, when she saw the boys glaring. "But if Malfoy does show up, I'm not going to get involved, and you shouldn't either. Besides, he'll be outnumbered here; he won't do anything."
Harry knew she was right. "What has Ginny said about him?"
"Nothing really, she and Luna are still getting ready. You would think it's the Yule Ball the way they're primping," she said.
Ron eyed Hermione up and down boldly. "You're looking rather nice yourself Hermione." The tips of his ears blazed.
Harry sat back, impressed at Ron's courage.
"Thank you, Ronald," Hermione answered primly, as she smoothed down her skirt. Her cheeks pinked up a bit though, and Harry held back a grin, watching his two best friends.
"Come on, you two. I've got guests to greet," he opened the door and walked downstairs.
::
George and Fred Weasley were the first guests to arrive. They popped in at exactly the same moment; it was unfortunate they chose the kitchen. Luna was carrying a heavy platter covered with cheese and pineapple out to the garden. When the young men Apparated she shrieked and the food landed on the ground with a squishy plop.
"George! Fred! Clean that up now!" Mrs Weasley yelled.
Harry and Ron watched while Fred whipped out his wand and used a Scouring Charm to clear up the mess. Hermione sighed, "I wish I could do magic away from school."
"What, and break a rule? Never!" George said cheekily, giving Hermione a grin.
"Well, it seems silly to not use magic for cleaning up at least," she said.
"You idiot boys! Now I have to do this all over again!" Luna raged.
"Calm down," Ginny said, pulling on her arm. "They didn't do it on purpose." She shot the twins a dark look and the two girls went outside.
"Well," said Fred, "I see Loony Lovegood's loonier than ever."
Hermione nodded, staring at Ginny's retreating back, "She's not the only one," she said.
"Stay here," Harry whispered to Ron. He followed the girls out and watched them duck behind a bush. He crept close and listened.
"You have to control your temper," Ginny's voice was flat.
"You have to stop talking about your precious Draco," Luna replied sourly.
"Stop saying it like that," Ginny snapped. "I'm worried about him."
"That's the problem," Luna said, sounding bored, "You shouldn't be worried about him."
"I can't help it," she said crossly. "If only that fool --"
"Harry! Oi! Seamus and Dean just flooed in. Neville too!" George yelled.
Harry froze, and silently cursed George Weasley. The girls were silent, and Harry moved away a few feet then yelled back, "I'm coming!"
All the boys in his dorm spilled out into the garden laughing at Fred Weasley, who was sporting the twins' latest invention. A flower pinned to his shirt spouted obscenities any time someone leaned in to smell the bloom. The boys took turns sniffing the flower, and laughed harder as each new insult, voiced in a high girly tone, filled the air.
Harry laughed shakily, and spared a quick glance at the bush. The girls were out now, and while Ginny stared at Harry thoughtfully, Luna watched Neville with an almost predatory gleam in her eyes.
Hagrid emerged from the kitchen. He lifted Harry up into a bear hug. "Happy Birthday Harry!"
He dropped him and said, "Got summat fer yeh." He dug into his jacket and pulled out a large piece of hardened fudge with the words, "Happy Birthday" written across it in green icing. Harry instantly recalled the birthday cake Hagrid had given him the night they met. Warmth suffused his heart, and he awkwardly hugged Hagrid back.
"Thanks," he mumbled against his chest. "I'm glad you’re here."
"Ah Harry," Hagrid rumbled. "Yeh din't think I'd miss yer birthday now, did yeh?"
"No Hagrid, I knew you'd come." Harry smiled widely at the half-giant.
More commotion was heard from the kitchen as Hermione came out, followed by Lavender Brown and the Patil twins.
"I think Gryffindor house has the prettiest girls," Seamus said quietly.
"Yeah, we do," Ron said. Harry saw he only had eyes for Hermione.
"Why, Seamus," George said loudly, "which lovely lady has caught your eye?"
The girls tittered, except for Hermione, who blushed when she met Ron's gaze. Harry clapped Seamus on the back, eager to draw attention away from Ron and Hermione.
"Yeah Seamus, which one?"
Dean saved his best friend from answering. "Where's the food? I'm famished."
"Harry, didn't you eat this summer?" Lavender's pretty nose wrinkled. "You're so thin."
Harry scowled and decided he'd never pull off to her again. It was a surprisingly easy decision to make.
"He's a growing boy," Fred declared. He leered at Lavender. "Come here and smell my pretty flower."
"Harry, the headmaster sends his regrets, but he couldn't come," Hagrid announced.
"Fuck off, tosser!" a girly voice shrieked from the flower.
"Oh, gross!" Lavender yelled as she backed away from Fred. The boys laughed hysterically; Lavender huffed and went back to Padma and Parvati.
"That wasn't very nice, Fred," Neville said softly.
Harry wasn't surprised Dumbledore couldn't come, but he was a little disappointed.
Mrs Weasley rounded up the guests and soon all were enjoying a Weasley feast.
::
When an hour had passed, Harry suspected Lupin and Tonks weren't coming. He wasn't too concerned with Tonks; if she was busy with Malfoy, he didn't want to see her. As for Remus, it hurt that he hadn't come. He was the last of the Marauders, the last real link to his parents and Sirius. Of all of his friends, Remus was the only one he could truly feel comfortable with talking about his godfather. Harry hadn't realised how much he'd been looking forward to seeing him until it became apparent he wouldn't be seeing him.
The more he thought about Remus, the more he wanted to talk to him. Harry's mind bubbled over with possibilities. The thought of Sirius' old house had frightened Harry; he had thought until this moment, that going there would be painful. But Remus lived there, and Harry abruptly knew that he did want to talk about Sirius, and Remus was the perfect confidant. He could also get away from Mrs Weasley's smothering, Ginny's weirdness, and he would definitely take Ron with him. Living with Remus until school started was, Harry thought, the best idea he'd had in ages.
His heart was now lighter than it had been in months and he promised himself he would owl his former teacher immediately after the party. Remus would certainly take Harry in for the rest of the summer, he was sure. Feeling as though it was already settled, Harry relaxed.
The girls were clustered around one end of the now cleared buffet table; the boys were at the other end.
Lavender, Hermione and the Patil twins were playing with a compact mirror. It was charmed to show different shades of lipstick and eye shadow. The user simply had to touch the mirror and speak precisely.
"Lips, fuchsia; eyes, charcoal," Padma said. "Oh, yuck," she complained, and passed the compact to Hermione.
"This is a fascinating charm!" Hermione exclaimed. "Lips, ruby; eyes, mauve," she said. Harry watched Ron swivel his head to look at her. Harry grinned.
When the compact was passed to Luna, she threw it on the table. "I don't need makeup," she said gravely.
"Honestly, Luna," Padma said. "It doesn't put the colours on you for real; it only shows you what you would look like in the mirror."
"I don't care," she said loftily. "It's just not very important, now is it? Give it to Neville," Luna added. "He could use some colour." She laughed.
Ginny frowned and Neville blushed. He ignored her and moved a little closer to Harry, who watched the other boys playing with one of his presents.
Dean had taken it upon himself to open his gift to Harry early. It was a Warhammer set, and he and Seamus had laid out the opposing armies. He explained the rules in excruciating detail. Only Ron seemed interested, but he kept complaining that he had to move the pieces himself, whenever it was his turn.
Mr Weasley flipped through the rulebook, and every now and then, he exclaimed over the spells the makers had come up with. "Fascinating imaginations these Muggles have," he said excitedly. "I would be wonderful if some of these actually worked!"
Fred and George showed Harry and Neville a catalogue they'd recently put together with Colin's help. It was full of their products, and Harry was impressed with the new line. Colin pointed out the pictures he'd added to Harry.
"I'm to be the official photographer," he said proudly.
Harry, with his belly full of food, and friends surrounding him, felt good. He was glad the party was outside. Light breezes ruffled his hair and the sun shone brightly but not harshly. Perfect flying weather. He stood and stretched his arms.
"Quidditch?" he asked. A few frantic moments later, Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Dean and Seamus -- who flooed back to grab a broom -- were airborne. Ginny stayed on the ground; she had lent her broom to Dean. Neville went into the house to firecall his grandmother. Colin snapped pictures of the flying boys and took a few posed shots of the lounging girls.
After the exhilarating impromptu game, the boys collapsed -- laughing and winded. Hagrid called out, "Time for presents, eh Harry?"
Everyone gathered around Harry on the lawn; a mound of presents was heaped in front of him. Neville had just rejoined the party, when a loud pop caught everyone's attention. Harry smiled when he saw Remus appear a few feet away.
"Remus!" Harry called and ran over to his former teacher.
A chorus of "Hello Professor!" rang out from a range of voices. He'd been popular the year he taught.
Remus smiled. "Hello, Harry. Happy Birthday!" Harry's heart swelled and he was suddenly fighting back tears. He was ready to gather his belongings and move in with him that instant.
"Steady on, Harry," Remus said quietly, taking his arm. Harry took a deep breath.
Remus looked through the crowd of faces, "Arthur, Tonks will be flooing in, in a moment. I'll need to help her with --"
"Why would Tonks be using teh Floo?" Hagrid asked.
Harry's heart sank. He looked at Ron, and the red-haired boy returned his gaze, denial sparking in his eyes. He mouthed at Harry, "No way," while shaking his head. Harry looked to Hermione.
Hermione, still busy with Lavender's magical compact, didn't see Harry's beseeching look.
"Come on, Harry," said Seamus, "Let's open your presents."
"Yeah Harry, come on," Dean added. "I want to see the army Seamus got for you."
"Shut it Dean," Seamus said. "You'll ruin the surprise."
"Oh, I got him an army too," Neville said.
"Neville!" Dean and Seamus both shouted.
Remus, Hagrid, and Mr Weasley quickly entered the house. Harry ignored his dorm mates, and he and Ron followed the adults inside.
"What's going on?" Harry heard one of the twins ask.
Mrs Weasley was already by the fireplace, wringing her hands, and she glanced up at Remus in undisguised anger. Mr Weasley went over to stand by his wife. Harry could feel Hagrid standing behind him and Ron. He was grateful for his solid presence, grateful actually, for all the adults in this room.
But that good feeling vanished and dread took its place as Tonks flew out of the fireplace, landing at Mr Weasley's feet. The flash of fire died. Harry and Ron exchanged a quick glance of hope, and Harry held his breath. The Floo activated again.
With his blond hair covered in ash, and paler than ever, Draco Malfoy tumbled out of the fireplace. He stood up, brushed off his robes, shook out his hair, and looked Harry dead in the eye.
"Happy fucking Birthday Potter."
Chapter Three: A Question of Guardianship
Harry's stomach churned when he saw Malfoy. His body shook with a mix of hatred and confusion. To make matters worse, his cock twitched unexpectedly, and this made him even angrier. He turned his back on Malfoy and yelled at Remus.
"What the fuck is he doing here?"
"Harry! Language!" Mrs Weasley said sharply, sounding shocked.
"Bloody hell!"
"Ronald! Language!"
The twins burst into the room. "Holy shite! Malfoy's here!"
"Fred! Language!"
"I'm George, Mum."
"Good one, Fred," George said, punching his twin on the arm.
"GEORGE THEN! Arthur!" Mrs Weasley yelled, her eyes over-bright and face flushed.
"Mum," said George, "it's actually Fred. You were right the first time."
"Boys, not now please," Mr Weasley said tiredly.
"Draco! What is he doing here?" Ginny said, scrambling over to Malfoy.
"Ginny, leave him be!" Ron yelled, yanking her away.
Harry ignored all the Weasleys and stared at Remus, waiting for an answer.
Remus' face was haggard, and his hair was more grey than brown. He was clearly confused over the angry responses. Harry didn't care. He wanted answers.
"Remus?" Harry asked, voice rising. "Why the hell is Draco bloody Malfoy here?"
Tonks stood up, shaking ash out of her lemon-yellow spiky hair. "Blame me Harry, not Remus. He offered to stay with the brat, but I knew he wanted to see you on your birthday," she said.
"Harry, I'm sorry," Remus said. "I didn't even know you were having a party until ten minutes ago, otherwise I would have made other arrangements for him."
"Could you all not talk about me like I'm not here?" Malfoy said petulantly. "And get away from me," he said to Ginny, who was still hovering.
"Shut up, ferret," Ron said viciously.
"Ronald! Go back to the kitchen!" Mrs Weasley demanded.
"Yes Ronald, listen to mummy like a good boy," Malfoy taunted.
"At least I have one!" Ron spat.
Harry's stomach turned to ice and he stared at his best friend in shock.
"RONALD WEASLEY! GET OUT OF THIS ROOM NOW!" Mrs Weasley yelled, jerking her head at Harry.
The colour drained from Ron's face as he turned to Harry. "Harry, oh mate, I'm, uh . . . God, I didn't mean . . ." He scrubbed a hand across his face, obviously at a loss.
Hermione pulled on Ron's arm and dragged him from the room, giving Harry a sympathetic look on her way out.
Hagrid put a hand on Harry's shoulder and said gruffly. "Yeh know he din mean nuthin' by that, right Harry?"
Harry nodded, but he was still stunned. He glanced involuntarily at Malfoy. The other boy stared back with the strangest expression on his face. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, but Harry broke the connection when his idiotic cock perked up again.
Mr Weasley cleared his throat. "Harry, I think it's time to say goodbye to your guests." Harry turned around, and behind Hagrid's bulk, he saw that the party had moved inside, and all his friends were staring at him and Malfoy.
::
After the guests, minus the twins, flooed away, the teens were herded into the kitchen. Harry and Malfoy were seated at either end of the table. Harry knew Malfoy was there; he saw him sitting there in his tailored robes, but his mind kept screaming in protest. The idea that Draco Malfoy would ever be in the Weasleys' home was inconceivable. A grimace curled Malfoy's lips and his eyes narrowed in disdain as he glanced about.
Ron paced back and forth, glowering at Malfoy as if daring the other boy to talk. Harry thought it was the presence of the adults in the house that kept Malfoy's mouth shut, rather than Ron's continual glares.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. Thankfully, his arousal was under control. The fact that he had reacted at all bothered him greatly. He took in Malfoy's blond hair, which fell to the top of his shoulders now, his slender form, and reasoned that if Malfoy didn't look so much like a girl, his body wouldn't have stirred.
Mr and Mrs Weasley, along with Tonks, Lupin and Hagrid, were talking in the sitting room, but snatches of their conversation drifted into the kitchen.
"-- believe you brought him here! Today, of all days. I thought you were Harry's friend!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed.
Remus' reply was too soft to be heard.
"That's no EXCUSE! I can't control lost invitations!"
"Molly, calm down," Mr Weasley said.
Harry watched Fred stick a hand deep in his jacket pocket, while the other hand tugged at his ear as he stared at his twin. George nodded enthusiastically. Harry saw the familiar fleshy Extendable Ears.
"Just a minute --" Fred declared.
"-- and we'll have it," George finished.
"We've improved the design," Fred said.
"It broadcasts now, so we can all hear it," George said.
"Just a few more tweaks," Fred continued, while he unravelled the coil of flesh-coloured string.
Hermione was biting her nails. She kept darting looks between Harry, Ron and Malfoy. She had tried to calm Ron down, but he had rebuffed her attentions.
Harry's mood worsened with every passing second. He felt betrayed by Remus, betrayed by Ginny, and betrayed by his own body. The day had gone pear shaped all over one stupid, girly looking boy. He scowled in irritation.
"What's your problem, Potter?"
"Shut up, ferret," Harry said automatically.
"Shut yourself up, stickboy," Malfoy said with a sneer. "Didn't you eat this summer? Or did poor wittle Potter get locked up with no food?"
Harry's eyes blazed and he barked out, "At least I didn't hide out like a coward in my own house."
Malfoy's face turned red and he sputtered, nearly incoherent. "What did you call me?"
"I said --"
"I know what you said," Malfoy said quickly.
"Harry, please don’t start a fight now," Hermione interjected.
"Quiet, Mudblood, no one's talking to you," Malfoy said, still staring at Harry.
"Shut up! Don't you talk to Hermione like that!" Ron grabbed Malfoy's robes and hauled him to his feet. Ron towered over the smaller boy, but Malfoy showed no fear, only disgust.
"Ron! Stop!" Ginny cried, and pulled him away.
"Get your hands off of me!" Malfoy snarled.
"Shhh!" Fred cautioned. "Listen!" He held up the improved Extendable Ears. The long, skinny, flesh-coloured implement was bell-shaped at one end, and it acted like a Muggle speaker, as they could all hear the conversation being held in the other room perfectly.
"Molly, I'm sorry, but I had to bring him here." Tonks' voice was saying.
"Why? I can't take the boy," Mrs Weasley replied.
"I should hope not," Malfoy huffed.
"Quiet!" Fred hissed.
They gathered closer to the bell-end of the ears, but Harry saw that Malfoy simply sat back down, looking bored.
Remus' soft voice said, "Molly, his mother has been missing for weeks now and Lucius Malfoy is in Azkaban."
Malfoy showed no reaction to the mention of his parents. Hermione shared a quick look with Harry, and raised an eyebrow.
"We know that, Remus," Mrs Weasley said in irritation.
"My mother won't have him in the house," Tonks said. "She said he reminds her too much of Narcissa. Draco's only been there a day and he won't shut up about wizarding superiority and how Muggles are scum. That's why Remus took him."
"Yer Dad's a Muggle? Is that right?" Hagrid asked.
"Yes, he is," Tonks answered.
"I can see how that didn't go over very well," Mr Weasley said. "But why bring him here, Remus? Surely the boy's friends can take him in."
"That's the trouble, isn't it?" replied Remus. "His father is a convicted Death Eater. The Ministry is finally cracking down, as you well know, and most people are afraid to be associated with anyone connected to the Death Eaters, even one teenaged boy. No one wants to go to Azkaban. I thought maybe I could keep him until school starts, but with my condition, that's not a good idea. I'm not sure what to do with him."
A heavy silence descended on both rooms. Harry glanced at Malfoy. His lips were compressed in a thin line, and he stared hard at the table in front of him. A strange feeling overcame Harry, and it took him a second to recognise it as pity. Harry had been orphaned longer, true, but he had the Weasley's, Hagrid, and Remus. Even the Headmaster of Hogwarts took special notice of him. Harry accepted that. Malfoy had absolutely no one. Well, Harry thought in distaste, except for Professor Snape.
Ron was staring at Malfoy too. "No fucking way. You are NOT going to live here."
"Ron, language!" Hermione scolded.
"As if I'd want to," Malfoy replied.
"Shhh!" George said.
"Molly, I'll leave it up to you," Mr Weasley said.
“He could stay here for the night of the full moon if you take him for the rest of the time,” she said firmly. Harry thought it a bit odd for Mrs Weasley to mention the full moon so casually.
"Splendid, back to the creepy house," Malfoy said bitterly, and then added thoughtfully, "At least it's a proper wizarding house."
It occurred to Harry that Draco was talking about number 12 Grimmauld Place.
"I don't believe this," Harry yelled. "Grimmauld Place?"
Draco nodded curtly, scowling again.
"Quiet, Harry!" Fred demanded.
Harry barely heard him. Could his summer get any worse? He'd spent the first part of it acting as a house-elf, Mrs Weasley was smothering him, Remus wanted Malfoy to live with Weasleys, and if he didn't live at the Burrow, Malfoy would be living in Sirius' house. He smacked a fist in his palm and turned around to pin Malfoy with a baleful stare.
"I really hate you," he said conversationally.
Malfoy blinked. "That's supposed to be new? What, are you jealous of a house? You've gone mental."
"Malfoy, you're such a shit. Why the hell did Professor Snape have to find you?"
Harry noticed the others had stopped listening with the Extendable Ears, and were now solely focused on him and Malfoy. He didn't care.
"Potter, you're such an arse. Did you think I wanted to be found?" Malfoy stood and his hands were clenched in fists at his sides. He advanced on Harry, eyes unnaturally bright and he hissed at him.
"This is your fault, Potter! Everything that goes wrong is your fault! I hate you and I hate your friends, and I hate this house." A glimmering tear broke free and Harry watched in detached amazement as it slid down Malfoy's pale face.
Malfoy was shaking, and he gulped noisily. It was obvious to Harry the other boy was holding himself tightly in check. "You don't know anything about me or what's going on, so shut the fuck up." He turned on his heel and stalked out toward the yard.
"You're so beastly, Harry. Do you only ever think of yourself?" Ginny demanded, and she ran outside.
Ron leaned against the counter wearily. "What is wrong with my sister?" he groaned.
"I don't know," said Hermione. "But that could have gone a lot better."
"What are you saying?" Harry asked hotly, ignoring the tell-tale twinge of guilt that told him he should have kept his mouth shut.
"I'm saying that maybe we should be a little kinder to Malfoy," she said.
Ron stared at her. “After what he called you?”
Hermione stood firm, unabashed.
Ron covered his face with his hands and mumbled tiredly, "Hermione, I think you should go home."
The twins exchanged an incredulous glance and Fred announced, "Well, we're off as well. Let us know how it all works out, eh Harry?" George pocketed the ear, and the two young men Apparated.
Harry nodded absently and watched Hermione stare at Ron. Her lips trembled and her face had gone white.
"You want me to leave?" she said shakily.
"Yeah, Hermione," he said firmly, lowering his hands. "I do."
"Fine then," she snapped, "I'll just go and --" her voice cracked, and she took a deep breath. "I'll go and get my things."
Ron sat at the table with Harry, tension visible in his tapping foot and darting eyes.
"Ron," Harry began.
"I don't want to hear it, Harry," Ron said.
"Stop it!" Ginny screamed.
Ron bolted for the garden and Harry was fast behind him.
"What's wrong with Ginny?" Hermione called, and Harry heard her coming up behind as they ran outside.
"Get the fuck away from me." Malfoy's voice was shaky as he pointed his wand at Ginny. His eyes were red as he stared at Ginny in horror.
Ginny's legs were dancing wildly about and Harry realised Malfoy had used the Tarantallegra spell on her. Harry pulled out his wand, ready to cast Finite Incantatem.
"No, Harry! Don't," Hermione yelled. "Let an adult do it. They're coming out now."
Ron was watching Malfoy and his wand warily. He pulled out his own wand.
"Ron, please!" Hermione pleaded.
"Finite Incantatem," Remus said firmly. Ginny's legs returned to normal.
"Expellliarmus!" Tonks yelled, and Malfoy's wand flew into her waiting hand.
Malfoy crumpled in a heap, head down. Harry saw his shoulders shaking, and he was sure he heard him sobbing softly.
Ron made as if to launch himself at Malfoy, but stopped when he noticed his defenceless posture. Harry was shaken, and he watched in irritation as Ginny crept over to Malfoy. She tentatively placed her hand on his shoulder.
Malfoy flinched at her touch and scooted further away and he snapped, "Stop touching me!"
"For Merlin's sake Ginny, leave the boy alone!" Mrs Weasley said.
Ginny stood up, took in the staring faces and ran back into the house.
An owl hooted softly, circling the yard. A scroll dropped out of its claws and landed near Malfoy's huddled form.
"That'll be a warning for performing underage magic," Hermione said quietly.
She stood by Ron and Harry, and the red-haired boy turned to her, "Hermione, I'm sorry, please don't go." She simply nodded, but didn't take her eyes off of Malfoy.
Remus knelt next to Malfoy and began talking too softly for Harry to hear. The pale boy seemed to listen and he didn't scuttle away.
"Come on you lot. Let's give them a bit of privacy," Mr Weasley said. "Back inside."
Ron and Hermione followed Mr and Mrs Weasley, along with Hagrid, but Harry and Tonks remained.
"He's still a brat," she said. "Look Harry, I'm sorry I brought him here. I had no idea this would happen. You did have a nice time before we turned up, I hope?"
Harry gave a mumbled, "Yeah, sure," but he continued to watch Remus and Malfoy. He had stopped sniffling and was calm. Remus put an arm around Malfoy's shoulders and helped him to his feet. Harry dismissed the flash of jealousy that sparked and died deep in his gut.
"Harry, we need to talk," Remus said. He held Malfoy's elbow loosely his grip, and the other boy's breathing was audible. Harry had never been this close to Malfoy without their fists or insults flying, or speeding in the air on brooms. It was strangely terrifying because once again, his cock gave an interested twitch. Harry sighed; he was tired of trying to justify his reactions. He knew Malfoy was a boy.
Malfoy looked past Harry's shoulder, face stoic. Harry turned and saw his forgotten pile of presents, along with the brooms. He felt Malfoy looking at him then, and again their eyes locked. The other boy remained emotionless, but his eyes were red.
"Harry," Remus said, drawing away his attention. "Ready to talk?"
"Yeah, I'm ready," Harry said, and blinked. The connection broke.
Malfoy eased out of Lupin's grasp and said coldly to Tonks, "Well, cousin, where to now?"
She gave Malfoy the scroll the owl had dropped then turned to Harry and Remus. "I'll see you inside, later?"
Remus nodded and she and Malfoy returned to the house.
"I don't know where to start," Harry said. He lay down on the soft grass. The sky was slowly turning a pale violet and shimmering firebugs began to appear.
Remus murmured, "He's completely alone, Harry."
"I know."
"But you don't want to talk about Draco."
"Not really."
"You're angry with me."
"No." Harry turned on his side and faced away from him. "Yes." His voice was small.
"Then I suppose we must talk about Draco Malfoy."
"Why are you helping him?" He rolled back over and stared at the sky.
"I'm helping Tonks, Harry. He is her ward, but her parents won't let him live with them. His anti-Muggle views notwithstanding, I believe it's more that he reminds Andromeda of her sister too much."
"Narcissa Malfoy," Harry said dully.
"Yes. But, there is an opportunity here. Draco is completely friendless and he isn't his father, or his mother and --"
"I don't care about Malfoy, Remus. I want to talk about Sirius. I want to live at Grimmauld Place with you until school starts."
"Harry, whenever you want to talk about Sirius, I'm here. But you should know that Draco will be living with me until September first. I was hoping he could stay here with the Weasleys, and be around kids his own age. I confess I wasn't really aware of the depth of animosity that existed amongst you all."
"Just think of Snape and Sirius and you'll have it about right," Harry said.
"Are you saying you tried to kill Draco?" He sounded amused.
Harry's anger flared and he sat up. "Just because we're fifteen doesn't make us any less enemies."
"Sixteen now, and I have something for you." His tone was gentle, and Harry found it hard to stay angry with him.
"Sirius and I actually picked this out before he passed," his voice shook slightly, and Harry's throat closed up. "It was in a catalogue, because, as you know, he couldn't leave the house."
Harry hated that Sirius had been trapped for last year of his life. He shook his head, knowing it was foolish to dwell on the past.
Remus handed Harry a flat white box, about the size of a book. Harry opened it carefully and looked inside. It was a thick picture frame. Sirius and Remus waved at Harry excitedly. It looked as if it had been taken at number 12 Grimmauld Place sometime during the last year.
"Thank you. I don't have any recent --" Harry said. His heart was in his throat; it stopped any other words. He simply stared at Remus, eyes shining in gratitude.
"Keep watching," Remus said, "and you'll want to tap the upper right corner of the frame and say Loquorus."
Harry turned back to the picture and saw that Sirius had begun talking, and when he tapped the frame and activated the charm, Sirius' voice rose from the picture itself.
"Hello, Harry! Let's have a tour of the beloved place, shall we?" Sirius said. As Harry watched in dumbfounded appreciation, Sirius and Remus began walking and the picture behaved much like a Muggle telly, the background changing as the two men moved into the hallway where the portrait of Mrs Black hung.
"He toured the entire house and captured it here for you. He also used this as a way to explain different wizarding customs to you. The frame will store many memories just like this one, ones you can add yourself. It's very easy to use, Ron or one of your other friends need only to -- Harry, do you like it?"
Harry was overwhelmed; he stared at Sirius' face as he made jokes about his relatives' portraits in a long hallway leading up to a stairwell. The wall was neatly lined with portraits; there looked to be dozens.
"This is ugly old Matilda Black, ugh would you look at that nose!?" Sirius leaned back dramatically against the opposite wall, which was free of any pictures, and seemed to look straight at Harry. "I swear to you, Harry, despite my great, great Aunt Matilda's unfortunate nose, Severus Snape is NOT related to me." He laughed at his own joke. "At least the mirrors are broken now, and I don't have to see her ugly mug twice when I come down this corridor."
"Disrespectful Cur! You shut your mouth!" Great Aunt Matilda Black screamed.
"Shut it, you old bat. I'm trying to teach young Harry about the wizarding world." He winked at Harry and continued, "You see Harry," he looked thoughtful and leaned deliberately against Matilda's nose, "all the very best wizarding families had a Hall of Mirrors. Well, best, as in dark, snobby, wealthy and --" Muffled grunts came from Matilda's portrait and Sirius elbowed her rudely in the face. "As I was saying . . ."
A horrible thought occurred to Harry. "Did he know he would die? Is that why he did this for me?" he asked anxiously.
"Sirius knew he would leave the house to you, so he thought it would be a good idea to go over the entire place in detail. That's all, Harry," Remus said sadly. "He did not know he would die." He reached over and tapped the frame. "Finite Incatatem."
"Thank you, Remus. It's great, really wonderful." He smiled at his former teacher, grateful for his gentle presence.
Harry reactivated the charm and the two sat in silence, but for Sirius' voice, startlingly alive and fresh, and it washed over Harry, easing his grief considerably.
When the picture looped back to the original frame, Harry felt cleansed of the deep sorrow that had permeated the first weeks of summer. He was still sad, but the pain seemed easier to bear now. Beside him, Remus stood and stretched. The sky was significantly darker.
"Do you want to stay at the Burrow or do you still want to live with me now that you know Draco will be there?"
"I need to think about it," Harry said.
Remus nodded and started to walk away, but stopped when he saw Harry still sitting on the ground. "It's too dark now to see it properly," he said.
"I just need a few minutes, okay?"
Remus nodded and left him alone. Harry wanted to live with Remus; he already felt somewhat healed after spending a short time with the gentle man. But if he joined him at Grimmauld Place, Malfoy would be there. A guilty thrill of erotic excitement burned in Harry's gut when he thought of Malfoy. He wasn't sure what was going on, but his body had reacted too many times today for Harry to deny it. Closing his eyes tightly, Harry clutched the frame to his chest, and lay back down on the soft grass. His mind twisted in confusion as the faces of Sirius and Draco Malfoy battled for dominance.
Chapter Four: The Longest Night
Harry fell asleep in the garden. When he woke up, the picture frame was still on his chest, and the only light came from the open kitchen door, where he saw the silhouettes of people talking within. He was still tired and a bit hungry too, but when he came close to the kitchen, he stopped to listen before going in.
"I want Luna to stay with me," Ginny was saying. "She's going mental at the Lovegood house."
"Going mental?"
"You know what I mean," Ginny said.
"She needs to be with her father," Mrs Weasley said firmly. "Now, I want to know what you said to young Malfoy out there tonight."
Harry wanted to know too. Malfoy had stared at Ginny earlier as if she'd terrified him. But what could she have possibly said? Unfortunately, Ginny didn't answer her mother, and he could hear Mrs Weasley banging dishes around angrily.
"Fine, don't tell me. But from now on, you will leave young Malfoy alone. Is that clear?"
"Who are you to speak to me that way?"
"I'm your mother, young lady, and you'd best not forget it!"
Harry's mouth dropped open and he inched closer to get a peek inside. Ginny and Mrs Weasley were alone, as he suspected.
"I have to talk to him; I can tell him. He'll understand," Ginny pleaded.
"He will understand nothing," Mrs Weasley shot back. "I can't believe Remus actually expects me to keep Draco Malfoy here."
"You're the one with seven children, not me!" Ginny snapped.
Harry walked inside, unable to listen in secret anymore.
"Harry!" Mrs Weasley cried, rushing forward. "Remus said you needed some time alone. How are you feeling now? Do you want some cheesecake? Would you like some tea? Oh, you must be so chilled. You've been out there for hours! It's after midnight, you know."
"Harry, I apologise about this afternoon," Ginny interrupted. "I don't know what got into me. I just feel sorry for him."
"I know. It's fine, Ginny, really," Harry said, but he didn't look her in the eye.
"Ginny, please go to bed, it's late," Mrs Weasley said.
"Good night, Harry. We can talk in the morning, okay?"
Nodding his head, he watched her walk out of the kitchen. He turned to Mrs Weasley, who was watching him closely.
Harry shook his head and sat down, laying the picture frame on the table. He didn't understand how Mrs Weasley could let Ginny speak that way to her. Ron could never get away with that kind of cheek. He dropped his head in his hands, exhausted physically and mentally. He had other problems to sort out, not the least of which was where to live.
"Harry, you don't understand about mothers and daughters," Mrs Weasley said, seeming to read his mind. "The mother-daughter relationship is delicate at best." She gave him a cup of tea.
"Where is Remus?" he asked, no longer interested in Ginny or Mrs Weasley or their relationship. "Is he still here?"
"He's upstairs with Ron and Arthur. I expect they're waiting for you."
"Um and where's Malfoy?"
"He's upstairs as well." Pursing her lips thoughtfully, she moved to Harry's side. "I have no intention of letting Draco Malfoy live here. You have nothing to worry about." She patted his arm gently.
Harry didn't know what to think. He still hated Malfoy. But he did feel sorry for him now, even empathised. And although he didn't want to consider his sudden unwanted physical reaction to him, he couldn't help himself. That, along with the other events of the day, left him utterly drained.
Mrs Weasley broke into his musings when she moved even closer, and said softly, "Have you given any thought to what I asked you before? You really need a mother more now than ever, don’t you think?" she asked earnestly and gave his arm a squeeze.
Feeling extremely uncomfortable, he jumped to his feet. Evading her question and yawning widely, he stumbled out of the kitchen with a mumbled, "See you er, in the morning, I'm knackered."
It certainly wasn't a lie. He shot a guilty look at her over his shoulder and nearly fell over when he saw a momentary flash of anger in her eyes. It was gone in less than a second, so he told himself he'd imagined it. He was so terribly tired and still hungry, but he wasn't about to go back in the kitchen. It frustrated him that she pushed the 'mum' issue.
Feeling a bit light-headed, he passed through the sitting room and went upstairs. When he reached the door of Ron's bedroom, he heard the familiar tones of Remus and Ron talking inside. He put his hand on the doorknob, ready to go in, when a soft moan in the hallway stopped him. Frozen in place, Harry held his breath, just in case he was mistaken.
The next moan was louder. Harry turned around and listened intently. There. It was coming from the twins' old bedroom. Tiptoeing so as not to alert anyone to his presence, Harry crept across the hall to the other door. He pressed his head to the wood, heart pounding madly. Part of him knew that what he was doing was completely wrong, but it was just another weird happening in a long day full of weird events, so he went with it.
The moans were faster now and abruptly Harry recognised the sounds of a boy tossing off. The sounds grew louder and his cock hardened. He knew where Ron was and he knew that Remus and Mr Weasley were with him. Draco Malfoy was on the other side of the door and he was hard, but -- Harry thought jealously -- he was doing something about it. Crazy thoughts ran through Harry's muzzy brain. He wondered how Malfoy held himself. Did he stroke quickly right away or did he take his time? Did he think of Pansy? Did he think of boys? Harry's jeans were unbelievably tight at the crotch; he dropped a hand to his cock and rubbed roughly.
Leaning against the door, he turned his body slightly inward, but left enough space for his hand. His jeans were so tight and his cock was getting harder by the second. He rubbed faster. He closed his eyes and whispery moans slipped from his mouth perfectly in time with Malfoy's. A thrill shot through him when he realised anyone could walk by at any moment. He wasn't prepared for that to actually happen, however.
"Harry?"
Ginny's voice startled him so badly he yelped in surprise. She was behind him and couldn't see anything, but Harry's cheeks burned anyway. Unwilling to face her, or her questions, he chose the only way out. He opened the twin's bedroom door, rushed in, and slammed it behind him.
Malfoy sat on the bed, eyes and mouth opened wide. His grey trousers were around his ankles and his hard, wet prick was held loosely in his fist. Before Harry could say anything, Malfoy exploded into action. He rolled over on the bed and dragged the bedcovers with him. He faced the headboard; his shoulders were heaving and his deep, jagged breaths were loud. All Harry could see of Malfoy was the back of his head and his oddly twisted legs hanging off the side of the bed.
"I'm sorry!" Harry blurted. He gulped audibly. "Ginny's out there and I was . . . oh God." He leaned back on the door, too weary for words.
"Get out, Potter!" Malfoy hissed, still facing away.
"Harry?" Ginny pounded on the door.
"Go away," Harry said.
"Is Draco in there?"
Malfoy's head swivelled around and he mouthed a desperate 'no' at Harry.
"No," Harry said, talking through the door. "I’m tired, Ginny, please let me sleep," he added.
"Okay," she said uncertainly. Holding his breath yet again, he listened for her fading footfalls before turning back to Malfoy.
Malfoy seemed to have calmed down a bit. His breathing was even and he continued to face Harry. The blankets still covered his naked waist and groin and Harry couldn't help but wonder if the other boy was still hard. Harry certainly was. His jeans did nothing to conceal that fact and he was painfully aware that it was too late to hide it, if the other boy had bothered to look. He slid down the door to sit on the floor, hoping Malfoy's angle from the bed would hide him.
When Malfoy smirked, Harry knew he need not have bothered.
"What were you doing in the hallway, Potter? Listening to me wank?" He grinned broadly, clearly enjoying having the upper hand for the first time today.
"I don't know," Harry said, frustrated in the extreme.
An eyebrow rose and Malfoy said incredulously, "You don't know?"
"Shut it, Malfoy." Harry closed his eyes.
"No," he retorted. Harry could hear clothes rustling and figured the other boy was putting his clothes back in order. He didn't bother to look.
"Tell me, Potter. It's the middle of the night. What were you doing?" Malfoy's voice was suddenly close and when Harry's eyes snapped open, he saw the other boy kneeling right next to him. He was naked from the waist down, his still-hard prick glistening.
"Noth . . . nothing," Harry stuttered, eyes widened in surprise. His cock pulsed madly.
Malfoy moved even closer. His face was flushed pink and sweat beaded his upper lip. Harry felt the tip of his prick nudge his leg. He looked down and saw a wet spot where it had touched him. The other boy smelled just like he did when he and Harry flew against each other during Quidditch.
"Then what is this?" Malfoy said, and he reached between Harry's legs and rubbed the obvious, bulging erection. His prick pressed into Harry's thigh.
"Oh fuck . . ." Harry gasped. He breathed rapidly as Malfoy's eyes locked on his. A cold glint shone in his grey eyes and a bloom of fear flowered in Harry's gut.
Malfoy leaned in, still rubbing Harry's cock slowly, yet firmly through the coarse fabric. His mouth was so close, the words dripped wetly in Harry's ear. "Does this feel good, Potter? Do you want me to stop?"
Harry was frozen in place. No one had ever touched him like this before and it felt so amazingly good, so wildly pleasurable. The fact that it was Draco Malfoy doing this didn't enter his shattered mind. He was too lost for rational thought. All he had left was feeling; firm, confident rubs on his cock and wet, hot breaths in his ear and the need to keep those sensations going.
"No, don't stop," Harry whispered.
The hand on his cock instantly stilled, but cupped him firmly. Malfoy breathed in his ear, "Could it be that Harry Potter is a poof?"
Harry swung his head around and stared at Malfoy in horror.
"Tell me you're a poof and I'll keep this up," he said. He gave a gentle, tiny squeeze and stared at Harry, a clear challenge in his cold eyes.
Harry scrambled away, angry and ashamed and still so unbelievably hard he could barely stand. Tears of frustration and intense fatigue started and he blinked them away, wishing he could be anywhere but in this room.
"What's wrong, Potty? Having a sexual crisis?"
"You bastard," Harry choked out.
Malfoy got up and pulled his trousers back on. Harry couldn't keep his eyes off of the other boy's prick. He was just as hard as Harry. "Well," he drawled, "I have things to take care of. I'm off to the bathroom." He looked down at Harry's huddled form and added, "Try not to interrupt me this time."
The door slammed behind him. Harry lurched to his feet and kicked the door. "Fuck," he said to no one. Not caring anymore, he unzipped and pulled out his cock. This time he didn't bother to lie to himself. He imagined fucking Malfoy into the ground, against a wall, on a table, and came in twenty seconds. Harry was shocked at the amount of come that now covered his fist in dripping, wet gobs. He collapsed onto the floor and wearily looked around for something to clean up with. Feeling a bit guilty, he grabbed a forgotten sock under the bed. Ministry rules concerning under age magic were a nuisance. He stuffed the now slimy sock back under, telling himself he'd get it later.
"Harry, dear? Is everything all right? I heard the door slam. Harry?" Mrs Weasley's voice floated through the air.
Groaning and feeling the overwhelming urge to kill Ron's mother, Harry took a few deep breaths.
"Is he in there?" Harry heard Remus ask.
Harry yanked open the door. "I'm here."
"Goodness, my dear. It's terribly late; you need to sleep," Mrs. Weasley chided.
Harry clenched his teeth. "I know."
Remus gave Harry a sympathetic glance and said, "I've told Molly you're thinking of moving in with me. I'll come back tomorrow and we can talk then, okay?"
Harry noticed Mrs Weasley's lips tighten but she said nothing. Harry was tired of Mrs Weasley and her moods.
Harry nodded and tried to ignore the picture he was envisioning of Malfoy wanking in the bathroom not twenty feet away. Now that he'd seen the other boy's prick, it was a difficult image to avoid. Would he come as fast Harry did? Would he be thinking of Harry when he grasped that wet prick of his? Harry groaned out loud; he was so fucking tired and he couldn't stop the wild questions from circling and the pictures of Malfoy's pink prick and fast fist out of his head.
Remus gave Harry an odd look before he said, "I'll just collect Mr Malfoy and be on my way, Molly."
"Nonsense Remus," Mr Weasley said, coming up behind them, "You can sleep in Bill's old room and young Malfoy can sleep in the twins' room. You and Harry have a lot to talk about in the morning."
Ron came out of his bedroom and blinked when he saw Harry. "Where have you been?" He yawned. "Hermione and Ginny have already gone to bed. Did you gather up your gifts?"
"No, I forgot," Harry snapped, losing his last hold on civility.
"Blimey Harry, I was just asking," Ron said.
"I've already taken care of that for you," Mrs Weasley threw in.
A door opened and Malfoy joined the group standing outside the twins' room. The bastard's hair was perfectly in place and he smiled smugly. Harry knew his own hair was messier than usual and his face had to be flushed and God, he could feel sticky traces of come deep between his fingers.
"All better, Potter?"
Harry blushed uncontrollably, but tried to play it off as anger. "Fuck off, Malfoy."
"Harry!" Mrs Weasley said.
"I'm just tired. I'd really like to sleep now." He knew he was whining, and he hated it, but this day had to end.
"Let's go to bed," Ron said, and he turned back to his room.
Malfoy raised his eyebrows and gave Harry a knowing look. "Sweet dreams, Potter."
Harry ignored him and instead mumbled a goodnight to Remus and the Weasleys.
Later, under the cover of darkness, Harry finally gave in and bitter, silent tears slid down his cheeks.
::
Harry woke up an hour later. He was too restless to really sleep well, and his hunger pangs didn't help either. He didn't have a stash of food in Ron's room like he did at Privet Drive.
He didn't really understand why he'd cried. The last time he had cried was over Sirius, and that was a good reason. Now, he was just confused. He had enjoyed it when Malfoy had touched him; he acknowledged it, was ashamed of it. But as much as he hated the bastard, he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Malfoy hadn't stopped.
Harry wiped his face, grabbed his glasses and looked over at Ron. He was breathing deeply. Harry's stomach growled. Slipping out of bed, he pulled on the matching shirt to his pyjama bottoms. He was ready for some of the cheesecake he'd missed out on earlier. Opening the door, he remembered with a flash of panic that he'd left the picture frame of Sirius in the kitchen. He didn't want everyone looking at it.
Harry blanched when he stepped in the hallway and saw the twins' bedroom door. He fought back the impulse to press his head on the door and listen. Scowling at himself for even having the itch to check the door, he rushed down the steps.
When he reached the sitting room, he heard voices in the kitchen. They were low and muted, but he thought it was Mr and Mrs Weasley. He crept closer.
"Molly, we have to talk about this."
"I left the bedroom for a reason, Arthur. Idon't want to talk about this." Her voice was colder than Harry had ever heard it.
"We've been through so much together, my love, why can't we work through this?" Mr Weasley was pleading, and Harry had never been so ashamed to eavesdrop before in his life.
"Just because I don't want to sleep with you doesn't mean we can't have a happy marriage," Mrs Weasley said.
Oh, God. Harry turned and bolted back up the stairs, where he ran straight into Draco Malfoy at the top of the landing.
"Watch it, Potter," Malfoy said huffily.
"Don't go downstairs," Harry said quickly.
"Why not? I'm hungry. I didn't get to enjoy your lovely birthday feast or eat supper."
"Just don't go down there, right now. Ron's parents are . . ."
"They're what, Potter?"
Harry dragged a hand through his hair, and said, "Just wait."
He didn't want to go back to bed; he didn't trust that Malfoy would stay away from the kitchen. Harry sat on the steps. To his surprise, Malfoy sat down as well, though a step lower. He was wearing the same clothes he'd worn when Harry saw him last; grey trousers, now a bit rumpled, and a stiff white shirt with a high collar and silver buttons. He'd probably refused to wear any Weasley clothes, Harry thought.
"I can't believe I'm here," Malfoy said gloomily.
Harry didn't respond. His brain was still trying to reconcile the reality of him and Malfoy sitting together on Ron's stairs in the dead of night.
"Lupin says you might come to the creepy house."
"Don't call it that. And stop talking to me. We're not friends," Harry said.
"We were pretty friendly earlier, as I recall."
Harry was grateful they were bathed in darkness, though the way his cheeks flamed he was sure Malfoy could see them glowing.
"Shut up about that too," he growled.
"I can't talk at all?"
"No."
"You know, Potter, maybe your fan club listens to your every word, but I don't. I'll talk as much as I like. And right now, I want to talk about your cock."
Harry's mouth dropped open, just as his cock hardened. "Wha . . . what?" he sputtered.
"Potter the poof, who would have thought?" Malfoy said thoughtfully.
"I'm not a poof," Harry said quickly.
Before Harry knew what was happening, Malfoy's hand reached between his legs and wrapped around him.
"Then why are you hard again, Potter? Is this a physical problem?"
Harry jerked up a step and glared down at Malfoy. "You fuck! Are you a poof?"
"Yes," he said, and he moved up a step.
Harry's mouth dropped open again. He didn't know what to say. Malfoy was queer. Normally, this would be great fodder for he and Ron to make jokes about, but when he felt Malfoy's hand creep up to grasp his hard cock yet again, and it felt so fucking good, like nothing he'd ever felt before, he knew he would never tell Ron this secret.
"I know you like this, Potter," Malfoy said smugly, continuing to rub Harry confidently.
He did. The sensations this time were a hundred times better because his thin cotton pyjamas offered very little resistance to Malfoy's groping. Harry could actually feel Malfoy's fingers through the material and there was no comparison to his own hand, none at all.
His legs fell apart of their own volition and his head dropped back; he couldn't stop the breathy whines that escaped his lips. The edge of the step dug into his back, as he lay sprawled against the stairs, completely overwhelmed by the firm pressure of Malfoy's hand on his cock.
"Close your eyes," Malfoy demanded.
Harry felt an instinctive urge to not listen, because it was Malfoy, but he was doing such amazing things to his body, so he complied.
He felt Malfoy move closer, and the hand that stroked him so carefully was taken away. Warm hands grasped Harry's thighs, pushed them further apart and a hot, wet mouth covered his cock through the thin material of his pyjamas. Harry bucked immediately and opened his eyes in shock.
Malfoy sat up and put his hand back on Harry's cock. "Not ready for that?" he said breathily.
Harry shook his head dumbly. "I'm not gay," he whispered.
Malfoy nodded but continued to squeeze and rub Harry's cock. Harry didn't stop him. He closed his eyes again and moaned. It felt too good. When Malfoy slipped a hand into the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, Harry kept his eyes closed and waited in anticipation for skin on skin contact.
Malfoy's fingers were warm as they moved delicately over Harry's abdomen; he used one hand to pull back the pants, while the other moved down, down until Harry felt those fingers brush into his pubic hair. That first touch electrified him and he groaned again.
"Feels good, doesn't it Potter?" Malfoy said.
"Stop talking," Harry complained.
Malfoy's touch disappeared abruptly, and the waistband of Harry's bottoms snapped against his stomach. He opened his eyes and stared at Malfoy in frustration. "What the fuck? I'm a poof, okay!"
"Shut up, Potter, someone's coming." Malfoy scrambled up the landing, just as Harry heard the voices of Arthur and Molly Weasley floating up the stairs.
"Molly, I don't know what to tell you, but this is not the way to solve anything. I certainly can't make Harry stay if he wants to move in with Remus for the rest of the summer."
"He belongs with us," Mrs Weasley insisted.
"Potter!" Malfoy hissed. "Get up!"
Scrambling up the rest of the stairs, Harry quickly followed Malfoy into the twins' room. He stayed by the door to listen for the Weasleys. They were murmuring now, as they passed the bedrooms. When their voices faded completely, Harry turned around.
Malfoy was sitting on the bed, looking at Harry speculatively.
Harry blushed, feeling weirder than ever. He wanted Malfoy to finish him off. He didn't want to think about it. He just wanted it.
"So, you're a poof now?" Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Harry nodded, his gut twisting in a mix of desire and fear.
"Come here," Malfoy said.
Harry hardened painfully and he couldn't believe his response to Malfoy's soft command. All he knew is that he wanted Malfoy to touch him again. He walked awkwardly over to the bed.
Malfoy gave Harry a shrewd look, then gripped the waistband of Harry's bottoms and pulled them down. The fabric slid across his stomach and arse and was pulled taut over his cock and gently scraped his thighs. His cock bounced against his belly and left a wet, sticky spot on his stomach. Harry sucked in a breath. He wasn't sure how he ended up like this, about to receive his first blowjob, and some part of his brain shrieked that it was Draco Malfoy ready to administer it. He was going to put his mouth on Harry's cock, his tongue too, and Harry couldn't wait; his cock bobbed nervously, oozing precome.
Malfoy placed his hands on Harry's arse, and pulled him close. He slid one hand forward to grasp a hip, and used the other to hold the base of Harry's cock.
Harry shuddered and nearly came at the first touch of Malfoy's wet tongue. He looked down and saw that tongue dart out and lick the head of his cock. He felt dizzy, and grabbed Malfoy's head for balance.
The hair clutched between Harry's fingers was soft and fine. Malfoy's tongue wriggled and swirled confidently up and down Harry's cock. His nose nudged into Harry's dark curls and Harry nearly fell over when the other boy inhaled deeply. Then that red mouth sucked him down and it was so hot and so wet and so good.
"Oh, fuck," Harry breathed.
Malfoy's fingernails dug into Harry's hip as he held him steady. He slid his mouth up and down Harry's cock and when the air hit the wet flesh, Harry trembled.
Malfoy moved his hand from Harry's hip and began lightly fondling his balls. The feather light touch on his sac along with Malfoy's firm suckling undid Harry completely.
"Oh God, oh fuck," Harry cried. He began to thrust into Malfoy's mouth, unable to stop himself. Malfoy sucked even harder, his lips tight against the ring of his fist encircling Harry's cock.
"I'm gonna --" Harry words were swallowed just as Malfoy swallowed the come that shot forth in a flood. Harry's knees buckled and Malfoy grabbed his softening cock, still spurting, before he fell to the floor.
"I'd say you're a poof," Malfoy said smugly; he licked his fingers slowly. Harry looked up at him with glazed eyes. He was drained, so drained, and hearing that familiar arrogant tone, Harry felt something ugly twist inside of him. He jerked away and pulled up his pyjama bottoms in a hurry.
"I'm not!" he snapped stupidly, watching as Malfoy continued to lick his come off of his fingers.
"Okay," Malfoy said, in the most agreeable tone he's ever heard the boy use. "I don't suppose you'd care to help me with this?" He gestured to his own, obvious arousal.
Harry gulped and shook his head. "I may have liked what you did, but any girl could have done the same," he insisted.
"You're such an idiot." Malfoy started to undo his trousers.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, totally mesmerised by Malfoy's movements.
"Potter, I just sucked you off. I have a hard-on. I'm going to take care of it," he sneered.
"Wait till I leave the room then."
Malfoy waited. Harry didn't move.
"Get out, Potter," he snapped, his eyes flashing angrily.
Harry scowled, not quite sure who he was angry with, and left the room.
Once he was back in his own bed with his eyes closed, he kept seeing Malfoy's bobbing blond head and felt Malfoy's tongue and fingers on his cock. It was a long time before he went to sleep.
Chapter Five: House and Home
Harry woke to the voices of Ron and Hermione. He kept his eyes closed.
"Harry."
"Let him sleep, Ron. He must really need it," Hermione said.
"Yeah, but it's ten past one already," Ron complained.
Harry's eyes shot open at that and he rolled over, still deeply buried in blankets and fumbled for his glasses on the bed side table, before mumbling groggily, "In the afternoon?"
"Harry, did we wake you up?" Hermione said apologetically.
"It's okay," Harry said, sitting up.
Ron and Hermione sat on the opposite bed, both looking concerned.
"Yeah, Harry, it's after one in the afternoon. But mate, you needed it." He threw an apple at him. "You must be hungry though."
Harry caught the fruit easily and gratefully bit into the tart green apple.
"Did you mean to leave this downstairs?" Hermione held out the picture frame of Sirius and Remus.
"No, I didn't. Did anyone else look at it?" he asked quickly and took the frame from her outstretched hand.
"Only mum did," Ron answered. "Hermione took it after she was done and brought it up here."
Hermione looked displeased as Ron spoke and she said earnestly, "Harry, I don't think she meant to pry."
Ron looked crossly at Hermione. "I would appreciate it if you would stop talking about my mum and Ginny."
Harry watched his two friends, wondering what exactly he had missed during his lie-in.
"I can't believe you haven't noticed anything," she muttered. "I'm sorry, you're right," she added quickly when Ron's glared deepened. "I'll stop talking about them to you."
She flicked a glance at Harry and he couldn't help but give a tiny nod back, hoping Ron wouldn't see.
Ron stood abruptly. "I'll see you in a bit. I promised Mum I wouldn't leave Malfoy alone with Ginny." He sounded annoyed.
Harry felt his face heat up and his stupid cock hardened at the mention of Malfoy, just as he blurted out, "That git is still here?"
"Remus waited around for you to wake up, but he had to go. I heard him tell mum that he'd be back around supper time for him."
"Ron!" They all heard Mrs Weasley yell.
Ron groaned and left.
Hermione was practically shaking in anticipation. The second the door shut behind Ron, she pounced on the foot of Harry's bed.
"Harry, we have to watch Ginny."
"I know," he said. He'd never had a chance to tell Hermione and Ron what he'd overheard during his party. He quickly relayed the conversation Luna and Ginny had behind the bush.
Hermione pursed her lips and Harry knew she was processing the new information.
"Interesting," she said after a few seconds of silence. "And did you see how Malfoy reacted to her out there after the party? I know he's a coward, but what did she do that would make him cast Tarantallegra on her? I mean, honestly, if he casts any more spells, he's going to get expelled."
"I don't care about Malfoy," Harry said forcefully.
"I know, Harry," Hermione said dryly. "I'm concerned about Ginny, not him. I just want to know why she's so interested in him and why he's acting scared of her. It makes no sense." She shook her head.
"Ginny did get him with a Bat Bogey Hex in Dumbledore's office last year. I heard it was bad," he said weakly.
"No, it's more than that, I'm sure of it. And now this conversation with Luna." She sighed, looking across the room at nothing in particular. "It's hard to tell with Luna though. She's always odd. But, why would Ginny miss Malfoy? Are you sure that's what you heard?" She gave Harry a pointed look.
"I think so," he said. Harry yawned and stretched; he felt his shirt rise.
Hermione blushed and rose, unfolding her legs quickly. "Sorry, Harry. You get dressed. I'll see you downstairs." She was gone in seconds.
Harry lay back and stared blankly at the ceiling. Remus was gone; he was stuck at the Burrow with Malfoy. He pulled the blankets over his head and wished he could go back to sleep. But hunger and a full bladder compelled him to leave the warmth and solitude of his bed.
Ten minutes later, after a guilty wank fuelled by images of last night's activity, Harry stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom and tried to fix his hair. Scowling at his reflection, he wondered for the millionth time why he even bothered. He threw the comb on the dresser and was about to walk out when a flash of movement in the mirror shot into view. His adrenaline raced and he whirled around to see if Hedwig or Pig was in the room. Looking back at the mirror, Harry saw nothing.
Two incidents was something Harry couldn't dismiss as coincidence. But what could he do about it? He wasn't about to bring this to Dumbledore's attention. It was just silly, he told himself. His scar hadn't bothered him in weeks. Flashes in a mirror were insignificant when compared with Voldemort. Still, it worried him.
He cocked his head to side and watched the mirror with his peripheral vision, hoping to catch another flash. Though fuzzy, he thought he saw slight movement in the upper left corner this time. He stayed completely still and tried to make out the image. All he could see was a glimmer of red-gold, and then a glimmer of white-gold. He turned to face the mirror, but the little blurs disappeared. He cocked his head again, and tried to recapture the image.
"Comb your hair, scruffy!" the mirror screeched.
Harry yelped in surprise and gave the mirror a dirty look, which resulted in giving himself a dirty look. Feeling just as foolish as he did yesterday, he left.
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were seated at the table, eating a lunch of chicken salad with some crusty bread. Harry was relieved when he noticed that neither Malfoy nor Mrs Weasley was there. Hermione and Ron were chatting and Ginny picked at her food.
"Good morning," Harry said and sat down, ready to tuck in. He really was famished.
"Good afternoon," Ginny corrected, but she smiled.
Harry smiled back, glad to see a little of the Ginny he knew surfacing. It amazed him how such a little thing cheered him.
"Professor Lupin firecalled a minute ago, Harry," Hermione informed him.
"Yeah," Ron added. "He said he'll be here this evening for supper."
Ron gave Harry a questioning look. "Are you really thinking of moving to Grimmauld Place?"
He looked up and saw that all three watched him closely. "Um, yeah, I was thinking about it."
"What's to think about? I mean, Malfoy's going to be living there." Ron shrugged, as if his statement made Harry's decision obvious.
Ginny pushed away from the table and walked out without a word. Hermione just shook her head slightly and threw Ron a worried glance.
Ron was oblivious and continued to eat blithely. "Besides," he said in a low voice, "I thought you didn't want to go there anyway."
"I changed my mind," Harry said.
"But --"
"Ron, if I go, I'm going to ask your Dad if you can come too."
Ron brightened at that then frowned almost immediately. "I don't know that Mum would let me," he said.
Harry choked on his juice when Mrs Weasley ran through the kitchen, shouting "No, no, no!" as she flew past them out the door.
The three friends hastily jumped to follow.
It seemed to Harry that yesterday's events were destined to repeat themselves: the flash in the mirror, and now Ginny and Malfoy in the yard with wands drawn. There was one major difference; the red-haired girl's wand was out and Malfoy had obviously been hexed this time. He was stretched out next to her, stiff as a board. With her wand held loosely in her hand, Ginny crouched over Malfoy and spoke quickly but Harry was too far to hear.
"Ginny! What are you doing?!" Mrs Weasley yelled, brandishing her own wand.
"She cast Petrificus Totalus," Hermione breathed. "She’s underage; she’ll be in so much trouble."
Ginny jumped to her feet, looked wildly at Malfoy and back at the small group. "He was stealing! I caught him going through Harry's presents. Look!" she said triumphantly, pointing at what looked like, to Harry's eye, Lavender's magical compact lying on the ground next to Malfoy.
"Finite Incantatem," Mrs Weasley said.
Malfoy sat up. He was as wild-eyed as Ginny. His pale face was whiter than usual, and he trembled visibly. He stared at Ginny in shock and Harry was shocked himself to see a shimmer of moisture in the other boy's eyes. Malfoy blinked it away rapidly and he swiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.
Hermione elbowed Harry and murmured, "What is going on?"
Harry shook his head, just as confused.
Ron moved forward and snatched up the compact. "This isn't one of Harry's presents."
Mrs Weasley turned to Ginny and said with barely controlled rage, "Go up to your room, now. I will deal with you later."
Malfoy watched Ginny leave, with something close to longing in his gaze. When she was out of sight, he recovered his sneer.
"As if I'd steal anything in this dump!" he snapped, stood up, and straightened his shirt and trousers, the same ones he'd worn yesterday. "I don't know what that silly witch is talking about," he added, losing a bit of vehemence in his tone.
"I'll thank you NOT to disparage my home, Mr Malfoy! While you are a guest here, you will treat my house and everyone in it with respect. Is that clear?" Mrs Weasley said firmly as she stared the boy down.
Malfoy blanched and nodded, but said nothing more.
"And for Merlin's sake, are you going to wear those clothes from now on? I've given you perfectly good replacements," Mrs Weasley said, exasperated.
An owl circled, hooted and dropped a scroll. Hermione plucked the scroll and said quietly, "I'll just bring this to Ginny."
"I'm comfortable in these," Malfoy said disdainfully.
Mrs Weasley huffed and followed Hermione.
Ron snickered and Harry could barely suppress one of his own. He knew, as well as Ron did, that Malfoy would die before donning any clothing worn by a Weasley.
"What are you laughing at, Weasel?" Malfoy said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Ron answered and Harry didn't participate as the familiar insults flew between the two boys. As he watched the exchange between Malfoy and Ron, he was struck by the intensity of his interest in what Malfoy said, how he said it, how he stood, how the sun glinted off the hair that Harry had grasped the night before, how those hands had gripped his hip, how those lips had. . .
"Harry!" Ron practically shouted.
"What?"
"What's wrong, Potter? Can't you concentrate?" Malfoy said, his gaze lingering deliberately at Harry's crotch before meeting his guilty stare.
Harry's cock hardened and he wished he could Apparate. "Shut up, ferret. I'm just not that interested in what you have to say," he lied.
Malfoy's eyes narrowed and he drawled, "Is that right?"
Harry summoned up the coldest look he could muster and sneered back, "That's right, Malfoy. I could care less about you."
He turned his back on the other boy and said to Ron, "Come on mate, let's open the rest of my presents."
"Good idea," Ron said and shot Malfoy a dirty look.
Harry was sure he could feel two holes burning in his back as they walked away. He chanced a glance behind him. Malfoy didn't look angry at all; he wasn’t even looking at Harry. Instead, he appeared shaken as he stared up at the second story of the Burrow, right at the window of Ginny Weasley's bedroom.
::
Harry didn't see Malfoy for the rest of the afternoon. Ron and Hermione helped him open his presents. His dorm mates had all given him Warhammer paraphernalia, and the Gryffindor girls had given him some clothes. The perfumed pink card that came with them read, Happy Birthday Harry! Here are some clothes for you. Your fashion sense is severely lacking, and we thought you could use some help. Hermione will know which shirts go with which trousers. Love, Lavender, Padma, and Parvati.
To his surprise, all the clothes fit perfectly, and Hermione encouraged an impromptu fashion show. While Hermione commented on his four shirts (red, white, green, and blue respectively) and two trousers (khaki and black), Ron flipped through Hermione's gift, an anthology of short stories called Quidditch Brooms Out the Floo. The assorted younger Weasleys gave him a selection of sample tricks, chocolate frogs, and other sweets from Honeydukes.
Afterward, Hermione pulled out the compact that Malfoy had taken. She told Harry about the micro fine print on the back that became legible with a magnifying spell, which Mrs Weasley had performed for her earlier, though Hermione admitted she had to coax her to do it.
"According to what I read this morning, you can change your eye colour and hair colour too." She stared at the glass. "Eye colour, blue; hair, red." She giggled. "Look at me!"
Ron looked over her shoulder into the mirror and laughed. "I like you better with brown hair, Hermione."
She pinked up, gave Ron a smile and passed it to Harry. "Try it."
"Hey cutie! Fancy a new look?" the mirror shrieked.
Feeling extremely self-conscious, Harry said haltingly, "Um, uh, eye colour, red; hair, purple."
Ron scrambled over to his side and they both laughed hysterically at Harry's reflection.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why don't you pick natural colours?"
"Tonks' hair is purple sometimes and it's completely natural," Ron said cheekily.
They spent the rest of the afternoon outside, enjoying Harry's gifts and picking at left-over birthday cake. Later he and Ron went flying while Hermione read over some of her summer school work. They both knew her work was already done, but she always edited and rechecked her scrolls. She was happy to do it and Harry and Ron knew better than to bother her.
Harry congratulated himself several times that afternoon for not thinking of Malfoy, not even once.
They flew until it was too dark to see and the boys were hot, thirsty and sweaty when they walked into the kitchen. Mrs Weasley was in the middle of a firecall; Malfoy stood stiffly beside her, watching over her shoulder.
"I understand perfectly, Mr Parkinson," she was saying.
"You're a fool to keep that boy," he said firmly. "He should be in the Ministry holding cells with the rest of them. Don't let him send any more owls to my girl." Harry moved closer to get a better look and noted that Pansy's pug-like facial features came from her father.
"I'm sorry he bothered you," Mrs Weasley said.
Harry and Ron exchanged a quick glance before they both looked at Malfoy. His face was flushed in embarrassment and his arms were rigid against his sides.
"Ask him if Pansy wants to talk to me," he said urgently.
She waved a hand in Malfoy's direction, obviously trying to shush him.
"Tell young Mr Malfoy that if he goes anywhere near my daughter or tries to communicate with her in any way at all, I will do everything in my power to get him expelled from Hogwarts! I'll not have my daughter consorting with a future Death Eater!" Mr Parkinson was yelling by the end of his little speech and he added, "Do you hear me, boy! I know you're listening!"
Malfoy turned away abruptly. He stalked past Harry and Ron without really seeing them, and he bumped Ron on his way out.
"Watch out!"
Malfoy didn't answer as he ran up the stairs. Harry didn't know what to think. Ron was muttering how Malfoy was a slimy git, Mrs Weasley was trying to placate Mr Parkinson, and then Hermione wandered in and asked what was going on. Ron filled Hermione in and Harry made a decision.
"I'll be right back," he said, and sprinted up the stairs.
When he reached the top of the landing, he saw Malfoy about to knock on Ginny's bedroom door.
"What are you doing?" Harry demanded, striding forward. "Leave her alone."
"Fuck off, Potter." Scowling, Malfoy stepped away from Ginny's door.
The two boys glared at each other in front of the bathroom.
"Why do you want to talk to Ginny?"
"Why did you follow me?"
"Why do you want to talk to Pansy?"
Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he took a step toward Harry. "Pansy is my friend.
"Well, obviously her father doesn't want you talking to her," Harry said.
Malfoy face darkened in frustration; he slid to the floor and sat against the wall. He rested his head in the cradle of his drawn-up knees, facing away from Harry.
"Go away," he said sourly.
Harry didn't move. He didn't know what to make of Draco Malfoy. He'd never seen him like this. As he stared down at the white blond hair he'd seen for the last six years, Harry realised he knew very little about him, beyond him being a prejudiced prat, a bully, and a really, really good giver of blowjobs.
Remus had told him that Malfoy was completely friendless, but Harry hadn't really thought about it. But if families in the wizarding world were afraid of associating with Death Eaters, even their children, then Malfoy truly was alone. Mr Parkinson had made it clear that Malfoy would never be welcome around Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle had to be facing the same ostracism, and were probably shuttled among relatives or were wards of the Ministry.
It began to dawn on Harry just how alone and isolated Malfoy had been and would continue to be unless his mother was found, or until his father was released from Azkaban. The latter was unlikely, and rightfully so, but he felt his anger abate slightly. Malfoy was effectively cut off from everyone he loved. Harry knew all too well how that felt. His second year had been one of the worst in his school career.
"Why do you want to talk to Pansy?" he asked quietly.
"Potter, go away. Your very presence is giving me a headache."
"I'm just trying to --"
"Just trying to what? Trying to help?" Malfoy raised his head and stared at Harry hatefully. "You mean like you tried to help by putting my father in Azkaban? That kind of help?"
"He belongs in Azkaban," Harry said flatly, looking down at Malfoy.
"Yeah, well," Malfoy said bitterly. "So everyone keeps telling me." He gave Harry a nasty glare. "At least he's alive."
Harry sucked in a deep breath, counted to ten, and tried his best not to kick Malfoy.
"What's wrong Potter, did I strike a nerve?" Malice glittered in his eyes.
"You're an unbelievable arsehole, you know that? I was actually starting to feel sorry for you," Harry said.
Malfoy jumped to his feet. "Oh, please. Save it, Potter. You're only up here for one thing."
"And what would that be?" Harry asked, his heart hammering in his chest all of a sudden.
"This." Malfoy's hand flew to Harry's crotch.
"Stop it," Harry hissed and he backed away, hitting the wall behind him.
"No," Malfoy said, smirking. "You've been thinking about this all fucking day."
He aligned his body against Harry's and rubbed his crotch again, and to Harry's dismay, he hardened in seconds.
"I know you have. You can't get it out of your head," he said, now stroking the hard outline of Harry's cock straining against his jeans. "You like this," Malfoy whispered and Harry felt a small, wet swipe on his ear, and realised it was Malfoy's tongue. "You like it when another boy touches you."
"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked, bewildered and more turned on than he'd ever been in his life.
"I like boys," Malfoy said, licking Harry's neck slowly as his fingers nimbly unsnapped Harry's jeans. "Even boys as cowardly as you are," he added. He nibbled on Harry's ear. "I know you like boys too, Potter." His hand slipped past Harry's pants and delved into his pubic hair. "You might not have known it before, but you do now." Malfoy's fingers touched the head of Harry's cock.
"I'm not a coward," Harry gasped. He placed his hand on Malfoy's arm, locking it in place, in case Malfoy even thought of stopping. "I -- I like boys too," Harry whispered, unable to deny it. He stared straight ahead, afraid to see Malfoy's sneer.
"You want to do more." Malfoy's warm breath drifted across Harry's skin and he licked the curve of his neck right below his ear. His fingers curled around Harry's cock and squeezed.
Harry arched his neck to give the other boy greater access; and he spread his legs a bit wider as well. His grip on Draco's arm tightened.
Harry felt an open mouth suck on his neck. "You want this on your cock again, just like last night, don't you?" Malfoy whispered wetly.
"Yesss," Harry hissed, and clenched his teeth, loving and hating his body at the same time.
With his right hand, Malfoy pulled on Harry's cock with rough fingers, causing Harry to gasp sharply. Still licking Harry's neck, Draco's left hand moved to clasp the back of his head to hold him in place. He tongued his way back up into Harry's ear.
"Find a way for me to get a message to Pansy and a meeting time in Diagon Alley," he said.
Harry pulled out of Malfoy's grasp and stared at the other boy, his brows drawn together in frustration. "What?"
Malfoy jerked his hand out of Harry's jeans; he looked both angry and miserable as he glared at Harry.
"Forget it, Potter. Just fuck off."
Harry felt light-headed; his stomach felt as if a dozen Cornish Pixies had taken up residence. Was Malfoy using sex to get Harry's help? Humiliation spread hotly throughout his limbs. He had to be sure this wasn't one sided; he'd never live it down if Malfoy was using him this way. Moving swiftly, before his mind could catch up with his body, he pushed Malfoy against the opposite wall, reached between his legs and palmed the other boy's prick. To his fevered relief, Malfoy was just as hard as he was. He'd never felt another boy's cock and the sensation of that hardness pulsing in his hand was incredibly arousing.
"Don't tease me, Potter," Malfoy said through gritted teeth when Harry squeezed experimentally.
"I'm not," Harry said.
"You don't know what you're doing."
"Then show me," Harry whispered and he squeezed again.
Malfoy's eyes widened and his lips parted. A tongue darted out and Harry felt an insane urge to kiss him. His own mouth opened, but Malfoy cut him off.
"You want to do this out here?" Malfoy asked.
Harry blushed when he imagined the picture they would present to anyone walking by. He had Malfoy pinned to the wall, his hand boldly squeezing his cock, and their flushed faces were centimetres apart, only a breath separating them.
"No," Harry said, and quickly moved away.
"Harry!" Ron yelled up the stairs. "Remus is here. Come down."
He looked down the hallway, licked his lips, and glanced back at Malfoy. The other boy was just as clearly frustrated.
"Tonight?" Harry asked quickly; he couldn't believe his own audacity. A tiny voice screamed in his head. What the fuck are you doing? He ignored it; his body was in control.
Malfoy nodded and an expression Harry had never seen before on his face surfaced. Harry recognised the excited anticipation that had to be matching his own, and unbelievably, his cock hardened even more. He groaned in disappointment and stared hungrily at Malfoy's mouth.
Malfoy smirked and said, "Sometimes, it's good to have no friends around. No one expects me to come down right away. I'll just make use of th