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bottom_draco_commTitle: The Boy Who Cried Werewolf
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jordangrant
Prompt: #55: The Boy Who Cried Wolf
Pairing(s):Draco/Harry
Summary:Draco will go to great lengths, tsk tsk, to get Harry's attention. This is an 8th year fic. DH compliant but EWE.
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer:All hail the great and wondrous JKR. The fiction herein uses characters and situations created by her.
Warning(s):None that I can think of...
Word Count:6100
Author's Notes:I can only hope that I did the prompt justice.
The Boy Who Cried Werewolf
Malfoy doesn't belong in this class," said Ron under his breath. "After the way he used to treat Hagrid. Hell, he doesn't belong in this school at all. What the hell was the Ministry thinking, declining to charge his poncy arse?"
"Everything he did during the war was under duress," said Harry, shrugging. Yeah, it had annoyed him a little when he'd heard about the Ministry's decision, but he'd got over it pretty quickly. He thought it had something to do with having rescued Draco from the Fiendfyre. Harry hadn't saved Draco so that he could end up in Azkaban. Maybe it was like the Chinese thought, that if you saved somebody's life, you were responsible for them afterwards.
"Did he poison me under duress, too?"
"He wasn't of age yet then. You know that, Ron," said Harry wearily. "Can you give it a rest?"
Ron huffed. "Well, I still don't see why he has to take all the same lessons as us. It's not like he could ever be Auror material. And this class isn't required for the Auror programme, anyway!"
"You know why we're taking it."
"Yeah, yeah."
Harry clapped Ron on the back, relieved that he hadn't needed to state their reasons out loud. It certainly wouldn't help Hagrid to know that Ron and Harry didn't really want to be in lessons for Care of Magical Creatures. Not Hagrid's version of the class, anyway. Too much potential for loss of limb. They'd enrolled anyway in an effort to offer Hagrid some moral support. The war had been terrible for everyone, but Hagrid always had been a bit soft-hearted. He was taking the losses hard. Harry wanted to be there for him, and he'd known that he wouldn't find the time to see the half-giant a couple of times a week unless he took a class with him.
Why Malfoy was in the class was another question. Harry really had no idea. He was actually surprised that Malfoy had chosen an eighth year at all. Of course, his seventh year at Hogwarts hadn't counted; the Ministry had declared the 1997-1998 school year "null and void," a decision Harry agreed with completely. But still, he'd expected Malfoy to prepare for his N.E.W.T.s with private tutors, in the luxury of his family manor . . . though perhaps the place held so many ugly memories that Malfoy just wanted to be away from it.
The side of the Light, after all, wasn't the only side that had suffered in the war.
"Let's just pay attention and try to learn something," said Harry, hoping that Ron would take the hint and stop whinging about Malfoy.
"Pay attention so we don't get bit or mauled or worse," muttered Ron.
"That too."
"But Malfoy--"
"Just ignore him," said Harry impatiently. "God knows I plan to."
***
Ignoring Malfoy proved easier said than done, however.
It started during the very first lesson, which of course had to feature the insane topic of magical piranhas.
Harry and Ron took up a place to one side of the large tank Hagrid had set out. Harry expected Draco to hang back, given his record with magical creatures. Why would he want to get close to fish that when full-grown, could send spectral jaws leaping twenty feet above the surface of the water? Even Harry didn't want to get close to them, and he was a Gryffindor!
Malfoy, though, not only stood as close to the tank as Harry and Ron, but he planted himself right at Harry's side.
"Buzz off," said Ron, leaning around Harry to glare.
"I didn't know they'd be so colorful," said Malfoy, addressing the remark to Harry. "Did you?"
Surprised, Harry glanced to the side, his resolve to ignore Malfoy forgotten. Damn, life just wasn't fair. You'd never know from looking at Malfoy that he'd had a rough time the previous year. And when had Malfoy got so handsome? He was supposed to be a pointy-faced git. Well, he was probably still a git, but he'd finally grown into his features. He didn't look pointy any longer. No . . . he looked angular, lean, and good enough to--
Harry hurriedly wiped that thought away. There wasn't any point in letting himself become attracted to Draco Malfoy, who had never shown any hint of playing for his own team. Just because Harry had discovered his own sexuality in the wake of the war didn't mean that Malfoy had done the same.
"Potter?"
Caught up in his contemplation of Draco's hair -- had it always gleamed in the sun like this? -- Harry couldn't even remember the question he was supposed to answer. He actually wasn't sure that Draco had asked a question.
"Pardon?"
The other man scowled, but the expression lasted no more than a second. When he spoke, his voice was actually light-hearted. "I wondered if you'd seen magical piranhas before."
"Oh. No," said Harry.
Ron leaned around Harry again. "We're ignoring you, in case you hadn't noticed. You shouldn't be here, so we're going to act like you're not."
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but closed it when Hagrid's booming voice rang out to start the class.
***
After that, Harry did a better job of ignoring Malfoy during lessons. Malfoy didn't like it; that much was obvious. He tried to catch Harry's eye at least five times a day. Harry pretended not to notice. He wasn't being petty; if things were different, he might have been willing to become friends of some sort with Malfoy. That would be the right thing to do. Malfoy never had had any friends that would steer him in the right direction.
Harry couldn't be that for him, though, and not because Ron would throw a fit. The real problem was that ever since that first day in Magical Creatures, Harry was finding himself more and more attracted to Malfoy. He couldn't seem to help himself. Being friends with Malfoy would be sheer torture -- Harry would want more.
And so, he kept his distance and ignored Malfoy's attempts to speak to him.
At least those generally only came during lessons with Hagrid. It was the nature of the class, Harry supposed. They were outdoors and moving around a lot instead of sitting in assigned seats. Of course, that was often true in Defence as well, or at least it was true during mock duels or other practice sessions, but Malfoy was strictly business at those times.
Huh. Maybe he did want to be an Auror.
Or . . . maybe having Voldemort living in his house had convinced him he needed to know more about Defence against the Dark Arts, as opposed to the dark arts themselves. Though Harry didn't think that Malfoy actually knew that much about the latter, either. He'd clearly been out of his depth among the other Death Eaters.
"It's still rather warm for this late in October," said Malfoy now as he stood at Harry's side by the lake. Some of the piranhas were big enough now to be in a pen near the shore. "Don't you think?"
"Why do you keep talking to Harry, Malfoy?" asked Ron. "Isn't it clear by now that he doesn't want to talk with you? Or have anything to do with you? Nothing you could do is worth his attention, so shove off."
Malfoy drew back as if slapped.
After that, he didn't try to catch Harry's eye again.
***
Malfoy continued to be all business during their indoor classes together.
In Magical Creatures, however, things went from bad to worse.
Hagrid had sent the class into a marshy area with a warning to keep their wits about them and their wands out as they searched for dugbogs. Ron and Harry had already mistaken three different chunks of dead wood for dugbogs when Malfoy came tearing into the marsh, yelling at the top of his lungs.
"The piranhas have escaped into the Black Lake! The piranhas have escaped into the Black Lake! They'll eat the merpeople, they'll eat the giant squid--"
"Good riddance," said Ron as Malfoy came to a halt, panting.
"If the lake ends up being full of piranha and nothing else, that won't be good," said Harry, beginning to head back to the shore. "And their spectral jaws will put an end to anybody flying over the lake, unless we can fix this. What did you see exactly, Malfoy?"
"Oh, it was terrible! Parts of the surface were frothing with blood, though I don't know what kind--"
"Do you know how they escaped their pen?"
Ron snorted. "He probably let them go!"
Malfoy bared his teeth as he hurried along to keep up with Harry's determined strides. "I've no idea how they escaped, Weasel. For all I know, a school of shrake ate the net separating the piranha from the rest of the lake."
"That net was magically reinforced," spat Ron, "and besides, the shrake is an ocean-going species--"
"Freshwater shrake, then--"
More alarmed the more he thought about it, Harry broke into a run and didn't stop until he reached the lake.
When he first got there, he wasn't sure what to think. There wasn't any frothing blood; the surface looked clear and calm . . . and the piranha pen seemed intact as far as he could see.
The rest of the class came to a halt behind him.
That was when the mutterings began.
And the laughter. One person's laughter.
"Malfoy!" shouted Harry as he turned around. "What's wrong with you? You think it's funny to scare everybody?"
"Well, yes," said Malfoy, still chortling. "The look on your face, Potter. The look on your face!" He began to speak in a sing-song voice. "I must save the merpeople! I must save the giant squid!"
"Shut up, Malfoy," growled Harry. "You're sick. I hope you know that."
Hagrid ambled up then. "Problem, Harry?"
Harry pointed. "Malfoy ran into the marsh screaming that the piranha had escaped!"
"Now really," said Malfoy in a droll tone. "The marsh can't scream at all, Potter!"
"Shut up!"
Hagrid rounded on Malfoy. "Didya, Draco? Didya really do such a thing?"
Harry could almost see the gears clicking in Malfoy's head. The git was clearly pondering if he could get away with lying. Seeing that the entire class had heard his wild claims, though . . .
"Yes," he said with a toss of his head. Harry was annoyed to find himself noticing, again, how the sun gleamed against Malfoy's hair. How could he be attracted to such a prat? "I thought it would be amusing."
"And was it?" challenged Ron in a tone that said he was spoiling for a fight.
"Well, yes," said Draco, starting to laugh again.
Ron flung his arm out, wand pointed.
"Now, now," said Hagrid. "No need fer that, Ron. No real harm done. Draco won't do it agin, will ya?"
"No, of course not," said Draco in a serious voice. "Harry . . . I'm sorry. I just thought it would . . . I don't know what I thought."
"Sorry would be if you jumped in the piranha pen," said Ron, his wand hand twitching even though he'd lowered his arm by then.
Draco ignored that, and Harry went back to trying to ignore Draco, but he couldn't quite manage it. What on earth had possessed the other man to do such a ridiculous thing? And at his age, too!
On the other hand, he had seemed sincerely sorry . . . so maybe he'd got it out of his system, whatever it had been.
***
No such luck.
Draco waited a month before he did anything strange again. He spent most of that month trying to chat Harry up, just like he'd done at the beginning of the term.
Then he tired of that, and pretended like Harry didn't exist.
A week after that, Draco was missing on the morning when Hagrid began to lecture them about erklings.
"Now, they usually live in Germany, but quite a few 'ave been smuggled ta our shores over the years, and there's a right colony of them 'ere in the forest. Don' worry, though. Their laugh dazes children, and by seventh year, or eighth fer some 'a you, yer too growed-up ta be much affected."
"Except for Malfoy," said Ron in a loud voice.
The whole class chuckled, and Hagrid guffawed along with them.
Malfoy appeared as if summoned by his name. He was panting again, his hair wild like he'd run the whole way to the clearing Hagrid preferred for lecture days.
For one long moment he looked around frantically. Then his gaze settled on Harry and he seemed to relax a fraction, even as he opened his mouth and blurted, "I know nobody here will believe me, but I swear it's true, I swear! The piranha have sprouted spectral wings as well as jaws, now! And they're strong enough to let them fly!"
"Oh, pull the other one," said Ron, rolling his eyes.
"Harry," said Malfoy in a desperate, pleading voice, "they were heading toward the castle!"
A large wrinkle furrowed Hagrid's brow. "Herbology's meeting outside taday, I heard Pomona sayin' at breakfast. Firsties'll be practicing taking cuttings off wild plants--"
"They'll be eaten alive!" Malfoy clutched his wand in his hand and glared at Harry. "Well, if you won't get off your Gryffindor arse and do something, I will--"
Harry was ninety-nine percent sure that Malfoy was full of it, but there was that one percent chance that this time he was telling the truth. How could Harry live with himself if some of the first-years got hurt or worse?
Jumping to his feet, he snatched his wand from his pocket as he ran headlong toward the castle, Malfoy and the rest of the class fast on his heels.
He saw the Herbology class as he came around to the other side of the castle. All the first-years on hands and knees, wands out ready to perform cutting charms, little floating baskets of preserved cuttings following along behind them. Sprout was roaming from student to student, offering advice and praise in her expansive way.
But there was no sign of any flying piranhas.
Harry pulled to a halt three feet away from Sprout.
"Potter," she said warmly, her joints creaking a little as she clambered to her feet. "I do wish you'd chosen to continue on in Herbology, but I suppose it's not the most important subject for an Auror. Is there something I can do for . . ."
Her voice tapered off as the rest of the class caught up to Harry, Hagrid bringing up the read.
Harry gulped. This was a bit embarrassing, even if it was better to be safe than sorry. "We . . . we heard there were . . . er . . . I don't suppose you've seen any piranhas around here?"
The little firsties began to titter as they stood up and crowded around Harry. Their hands reached out to touch his robes, their mouths dropping open in awe.
Harry blushed. Damned Chosen One mystique. Apparently, it didn't matter that he'd just sounded like he didn't know that fish lived in water. The youngest students had heard of the Battle of Hogwarts and Harry's role in the war, and that was all that mattered.
Sprout gave him a kindly look. "I've think you need a few packets of my special tea blend, Potter. You wouldn't be the first student to overwork himself during his N.E.W.T. year."
"Uh, thanks," said Harry, edging away from the children's grasping hands.
"Back ter class," growled Hagrid in a voice that promised nothing good for Draco.
***
"Ya promised!" roared Hagrid as soon as the whole class had returned to the clearing. "Ya promised an end to this foolishness, Draco!"
"Oh, I don't think I went so far as to promise," said Draco in a jolly tone. He'd managed to hold his humour in while Sprout was around, but he'd howled with laughter the whole way back. Harry had had to stop Ron from hexing Draco. Three times.
"Ya said . . . ya said . . ." Hagrid scrunched up his face and then scratched his head. "Well, I dunno exactly, but ya knew full well we didn't like your last little joke on us."
"That's right. It was just a joke. All's well that ends well, and all that rot--"
"Not so fast, Malfoy," said Harry. "Your little 'joke' didn't stay in class this time. You said that the piranhas were flying toward the castle, which can only mean that you wanted to see us make fools of ourselves in front of the other students and teachers--"
"I just thought you'd run out into the clear and see that there were no fish about," interrupted Draco. "How was I to know that Herbology would be outside the greenhouses today?"
"Ya made Harry look like a complete imbecile," shouted Hagrid.
Harry winced from the reminder. And the volume.
"Fer that ya deserve a dressing down from the Headmistress herself! And twenty points from Slytherin while I'm at it--"
Malfoy's face went absolutely pasty and his voice emerged as a harsh croak. "No, please--"
Hagrid suddenly plopped himself down on a log. "Ach, that's a mite harsh, at that. Fifteen points'll be enough, I s'pose--"
Malfoy made a swallowing noise. "No, I meant that I'd rather this matter not be referred to the Headmistress. We can keep it between ourselves, surely?"
"You're the one who made sure people outside the class would know about your stupid prank," said Ron.
"I told you, that was a mistake!"
"Yeah, well it sure as hell was--"
"Wait, Ron," said Harry. Granted, Malfoy had lied last time about being sorry, and for all Harry knew he could be lying again, but something about the way he was holding himself screamed that he was barely holding in panic. Harry stepped up to him and spoke in a voice that was as gentle as he could manage. He didn't think he did so well at it, but at least his tone wasn't harsh. "Why don't you want McGonagall to know what you've been doing, Draco?"
Malfoy took a step closer to Harry and spoke in a hushed tone. "She said-- she said--"
"You can tell me. What did she say?"
Malfoy closed his eyes, but not before Harry saw the flash of pain in them. "She said that I was here on sufferance, and only because Dumbledore had wanted to help me."
"I told her that," said Harry. "Or . . . not the sufferance part, but that Dumbledore had wanted very much to help you, yes. So?"
"She said that if I caused the slightest disturbance I'd be out on my ear," said Draco, opening his eyes.
"So why have you been causing them?" asked Harry, very softly.
"I . . . I don't know. I . . . I think I just couldn't bear the way you were ignoring me." Draco swallowed. "Please don't let him send me to the Headmistress. Please, Potter. Tell him he can take fifty points from Slytherin, or have me muck out his hut, or . . . I'll do anything. Anything. Truly."
"It's not really up to me."
A wry expression crossed Malfoy's face. "Of course it's up to you, Potter, if you want it to be. I think you're the only one in Britain who doesn't realise it."
Harry remembered the children. Their worshipful faces. Like it or not, Malfoy was probably right.
"All right. I'll help you for a promise," said Harry. "A real promise, this time. You have to mean it, Malfoy. I'm serious."
A wave of heat swept over Harry as Malfoy looked him over, head to foot. Harry recognized that sort of look. It was the same kind that he was always trying not to give Malfoy.
Huh. Maybe Malfoy did play for his own team.
Which didn't make what he was thinking right, of course.
"Nothing like that," said Harry, shaking his head. "Just promise that you won't cry wolf again, all right?"
Was it his imagination, or did Malfoy look puzzled? Maybe he was just confused, considering what he said next. "Cry wolf?"
"Muggle story. It means . . . just promise that you'll stop pretending that something dangerous is on the loose."
"Oh." Malfoy nodded. "Yes, all right."
"Promise."
"I promise." Malfoy looked down at his feet. "Um . . . could I ask you for a favor? It'll help me keep my promise. If you . . . if you could talk to me once in a while instead of pretending I don't exist, I don't think I'd need to try so hard to get your attention."
"I can do that," said Harry. Now he was the one looking down at his feet as he restlessly kicked at the grass underfoot. "Um . . . maybe we could go out for a pint tonight. Three Broomsticks?"
Malfoy's expression was shuttered when Harry glanced up. "The Hog's Head would be better, not that it matters. I'm here on a restricted basis. No access to Hogsmeade."
"Oh." Well, he'd come this far. He might as well jump in with both feet. "Your room, then? I'll go into town before dinner and pick up a bottle for us."
Malfoy looked stunned. And then pleased. Very pleased. "It's been a bit lonely being the only eighth-year Slytherin, but now I think the private room will come in handy."
Harry tried not to blush again. He was pretty sure that meant exactly what it sounded like.
***
It did, and it didn't.
That night they drank the ale Harry brought over, and they talked and talked, and when they were tipsy enough, they fell on Malfoy's narrow bed together and snogged.
It didn't go past that, though. Not that night. But that didn't matter. Harry still stumbled back to his dormitory grinning like a loon. Draco was one hell of a kisser.
He was Draco, now. Not Malfoy.
Draco kept his promise and stopped disrupting Magical Creatures class. Harry rewarded him with lots and lots of attention. Ron objected at first, but by the third week, all he did was roll his eyes and let Harry get on with it. Hermione wasn't in Magical Creatures class, but she noticed how much friendlier Harry was toward Draco in the other classes they all shared.
She said that Harry seemed happier than she'd ever seen him, and gave him a big hug.
***
Harry was happier than he'd ever been, and not just because he was finally free of the threat of Voldemort hanging over his head. He'd also never known what it was like to be so physically satisfied. They'd only kissed that first night, but it wasn't long before they went all the way. In every possible way.
Harry would never have guessed it, but Draco turned out to be a generous lover, always intent on seeing to his partner's pleasure before his own. Not to be outdone, Harry did his best to return the favor.
It led to some very, very pleasurable times in bed. And they were in bed a lot. Draco's bed, since Harry was rooming with Ron.
Draco confessed that he'd thought about having private tutors instead of facing Hogwarts again. The deciding factor, surprisingly enough, had been Harry.
"I wanted to see you," said Draco. "I . . . I'd heard that you had come out, and it was like the scales fell from my eyes. Maybe I never let myself become attracted to you earlier because it seemed so hopeless. You were always with girls . . ."
"Just as well," said Harry. "Imagine what Voldemort would have done if he'd picked up any hint that you were interested in shagging me."
"Mmm, perhaps a sense of self-preservation was tied up into all of it." Draco smiled, his whole face lighting up. "I just know that as soon as it was safe to look at you like that, I wanted to do nothing but look and look and look."
"Look your fill," said Harry, stretching out on top of the coverlet. Since he was nude from head to toe, he was giving Draco quite the view. Draco wasn't shy about taking advantage of it.
Later, when they were both sated, Harry asked the question he'd been wondering about for a while by then. "So why are you in every one of my lessons, Draco?"
The other man colored slightly, which didn't happen often. "To be near you."
"But you have to prepare for your own future, not mine," said Harry, sitting up in bed and looking down at Draco. "What do you want to do once you've finished your education here?"
"Be an Auror, of course."
"Why?'
Draco blinked. "To be near you."
"You can't base your life on me," said Harry gently.
Draco went completely still. "Oh. You . . . you're right, of course. I wasn't thinking. I thought . . . well, I suppose it doesn't matter what I thought."
"It's all right. I'm glad you understand."
"Yes," said Draco slowly, his face half-turned away. "I understand. I have to get to the library, Harry. I need to do more research for that Potions essay we have coming due."
"Oh." Harry sat up, trying not to flush. The change in subject seemed rather abrupt, but then again, Draco was working very hard in all his classes, now. Even Magical Creatures, now that he'd stopped his ridiculous attempts to get Harry's attention. "Yeah, all right. I'll see you in the morning."
"Yes," said Draco in a distant tone, his mind obviously already on his essay.
***
In the morning, though, Draco didn't walk with Harry to their first class together, like he'd been doing ever since they'd got together. He avoided Harry in the halls between classes, and ignored him completely during lessons. That last part wasn't so very strange; Draco was usually focused on his studies during classes other than Magical Creatures. His attitude seemed to have a more deliberate air to it now, though.
Harry didn't know what to make of it. He told himself that Draco was probably just having an off day.
He found out differently that night after dinner when he knocked on Draco's door.
"Yes?"
Harry was used to being invited in. "Er . . ."
Draco tapped a foot. "I'm somewhat busy at the moment, Potter."
Potter?
Perhaps the direct approach, thought Harry. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," said Draco, looking puzzled. "Well, you and I have reached our end, but it was amusing while it lasted, so I'd hardly call it something wrong . . ."
Harry felt a bit like he was choking. He knew he sounded like it, too. "Our end?"
"Yes." Draco gave him a rather pitying look. "You didn't know? You were a good shag, Potter. Better than I expected, if you want the truth." He made a small laughing sound.
"A good shag!"
"Do you want me to repeat it?"
Harry glowered. "Are you trying to say that you're dropping me?"
"It was bound to happen sooner or later."
"Fine," snapped Harry. "I don't need you, either."
Something flashed in Draco's eyes. Harry wasn't sure what, and he wasn't in the mood to wonder for long. He left without another word and went back to Gryffindor, where he threw himself on his bed and punched his pillow until it felt right.
Not that it ever did feel right. Damn it all, he'd got used to the pillows on Draco's bed.
***
Draco kept on ignoring him after that, in and out of class. The worst part about it was how Harry noticed it so much these days. He knew he shouldn't. He'd been nothing but a fling for Draco. An adventure. It was obvious now that it had never been anything else. Otherwise, Draco wouldn't have dropped him for no reason like that.
Harry sighed, annoyed to find he'd been thinking about the prat again. He had to find a way to get over it.
Over him, that was.
He wasn't managing to, though. Harry was still obsessing over Draco on the night when Magical Creatures class assembled at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, listening to Hagrid explain the first night field-study of the year. This time, they were simply to enter the forest and observe the creatures they could find, noting the difference between night-time and day-time behavior. Hagrid chuckled a little as he advised them to pay particular attention to any erklings they might encounter, and then he sent them off in groups of three.
Harry hated himself for hoping that Draco would be in his group.
He told himself that it was just as well Draco wasn't.
***
Ron was shivering as he walked along. "This reminds me too much of those awful nights we spent camping," he whispered, looking left and right as they stepped across a small stream. "Lumos doesn't do enough to let you see, not when the night is as black as this."
"There's a full moon out," said Harry.
"Theoretically."
Harry had to admit, Ron had a point. The forest was so thick and dense through this section that there might as well be no moon at all. It was rare that a silvery ray of moonlight reached through the foliage overhead to give them a sense of their surroundings.
A horrible crashing noise to their left had both Harry and Ron tensing, their wands held at the ready as something rushed towards them, tripping over branches and then splashing through the stream they'd just crossed.
"Harry!" gasped Draco as he came into view, his wand casting a feeble light. "Oh, thank Merlin. There's a werewolf loose in the forest tonight!"
"Not this again," snarled Ron as he thrust his wand out as if to hex Draco. "You broke Harry's heart, but that's not enough for you, is it? You have to watch him make a fool of himself again, rushing off to fight threats you make up as you go--"
Ignoring Ron completely, Draco rushed past him, practically hurling himself into Harry's arms. "I'm not making it up! I'm not! There's a werewolf--"
"Then why are you here instead of mauled?" asked Harry, shoving Draco away.
"I run fast--"
"How stupid do I look?"
"Harry--"
Whatever Draco might have said was cut off by the noise of a wolf baying.
And not just any wolf.
Harry would recognize that noise anywhere. It sent him back several years, to the night when Remus had stalked them in werewolf form.
For one moment he wished it could be Remus out there in the forest. But of course it wasn't.
"Oh Merlin, Merlin, Merlin," babbled Draco. "I . . . I hate this forest at night--"
"Go back to the castle," said Harry in a low tone. "I'll take care of this."
"No!" yelped Draco in an off-key, panicked voice. "You come back with me! I can't leave you out here alone with a monster roaming loose!"
"I thought you ran to get Harry so he could save you," said Ron, still snarling.
"I just want him out of here before--"
"I can't leave the others out here with a werewolf roaming loose," interrupted Harry. "Get back to the castle, Draco."
"No--"
The baying came again, this time from behind them.
No more point in argument; the werewolf was between them and the castle, now.
Draco leapt behind Harry and grabbed onto him. "We have to run--"
"I have to make sure he doesn't hurt anybody."
Another growl announced the werewolf's location as ever closer, and then suddenly the creature burst out into the small area of light created by their wands.
Draco screamed.
A mistake, as it turned out. The noise seemed to draw the wolf; he leapt straight into the air, sailing over Harry's head and grabbing Draco by the shoulder as he flew past. Harry shot off a hex but it bounced right off the werewolf's hide.
Harry cursed as Draco was dragged away from him. Then he tried a curse, but that failed too; werewolves were notoriously difficult to take down with magic. What he needed was something silver -- but he had nothing to hand.
Draco was still screaming, a sound of pure terror by then.
"Accio Draco Malfoy!" cried Harry, putting every last ounce of power into the charm.
Draco was forcibly ripped from the werewolf's grasp and smacked squarely into Harry, knocking him off his feet.
A horrible growling noise followed close behind -- and then there was a tremendous cracking noise and the werewolf's howls seemed to fade away like they were spinning off into the distance.
Harry thrust Draco behind him as he leapt to his feet and pointed his wand left and right, looking for the deranged creature.
What he saw was a large crater in the ground, not three feet from him.
"Bottomless pit spell," gasped Ron, looking green. Whether that was from the fright they'd all had or the powerful magic he'd just practiced, Harry didn't know. "But . . . but . . . that's just an expression. It won't actually be bottomless--"
Harry nodded grimly and cast a series of spells that placed stout steel bars over the hole. By the time he was done, the bars criss-crossed so that nothing larger than a hamster could squeeze through them.
He sat down, exhausted, but quickly got a second wind when Draco more-or-less crawled onto his lap, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck.
Harry set him away. "You weren't bit, were you?"
"No."
"Scratched?"
"No." Draco smiled. "My hero. That was quick thinking, Harry, working magic on me when your spells didn't work on the werewolf."
"Bet you're sorry you dropped him like a bad wand," accused Ron. "Not that I'm upset, since Harry's worth ten of you--"
Draco looked at Harry, his heart in his eyes, and licked his lips like he was gathering his courage. "I . . . I had to drop you," he whispered. "It was better to end it, once I knew that I was just a fling for you--"
Harry sighed. "When did I ever say that you were that, Draco?"
"When . . . when you said that I couldn't base my life on you . . ."
"Well, you can't," retorted Harry. "You have to have your own life, your own interests. You can't pick a job that's probably not right for you, just to be near me."
"I thought you were warning me off," cried Draco. "I thought you were trying to tell me that what we had was just for the school year!"
"Oh," said Harry. He smiled, then. "I didn't mean that, Draco."
Ron sighed, long and loud, and shook his head.
Draco swallowed again. "What did you mean, then? Do you . . . did I really break your heart like Weasley said?"
"Yeah," said Harry gruffly.
Draco's voice came very softly. "I'm sorry."
Harry smiled again. "Well . . . it sounds to me now like I might have broken yours, too. A little?"
"More than a little."
They embraced then, and kissed, and ended up wrapped in each other's arms, snogging like their lives depended on it. Harry forgot all about Ron standing close by. He forgot about the dangers of the forest.
Only to abruptly remember both when the werewolf hurled itself against the steel bars Harry had conjured. They held, but it was still a terrible sight, watching the monster trying to get free.
"We'd better alert Hagrid and the Headmistress to what we've captured," said Harry, jumping to his feet and sending his Patronus forth. "Until then we'll stand guard."
"And then?" asked Draco, his eyes glowing like they used to.
"And then," said Harry, smiling widely, "we'll figure out what comes next. For you, for me, for us, hmm?"
Ron rolled his eyes a little, but stepped to the side to give them at least the illusion of privacy. Harry threw him a grateful look, then returned his attention to Draco.
"Us," repeated Draco. "Yes."
"The boy who cried werewolf is supposed to be eaten in the end," muttered Ron.
"He," said Draco with a disarming smile, "didn't have a Harry to protect him. I do."
I do . . .
Harry hoped to hear those words in another context, someday. That could wait . . . but not too long.
The End
Author:
jordangrant Prompt: #55: The Boy Who Cried Wolf
Pairing(s):Draco/Harry
Summary:Draco will go to great lengths, tsk tsk, to get Harry's attention. This is an 8th year fic. DH compliant but EWE.
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer:All hail the great and wondrous JKR. The fiction herein uses characters and situations created by her.
Warning(s):None that I can think of...
Word Count:6100
Author's Notes:I can only hope that I did the prompt justice.
The Boy Who Cried Werewolf
Malfoy doesn't belong in this class," said Ron under his breath. "After the way he used to treat Hagrid. Hell, he doesn't belong in this school at all. What the hell was the Ministry thinking, declining to charge his poncy arse?"
"Everything he did during the war was under duress," said Harry, shrugging. Yeah, it had annoyed him a little when he'd heard about the Ministry's decision, but he'd got over it pretty quickly. He thought it had something to do with having rescued Draco from the Fiendfyre. Harry hadn't saved Draco so that he could end up in Azkaban. Maybe it was like the Chinese thought, that if you saved somebody's life, you were responsible for them afterwards.
"Did he poison me under duress, too?"
"He wasn't of age yet then. You know that, Ron," said Harry wearily. "Can you give it a rest?"
Ron huffed. "Well, I still don't see why he has to take all the same lessons as us. It's not like he could ever be Auror material. And this class isn't required for the Auror programme, anyway!"
"You know why we're taking it."
"Yeah, yeah."
Harry clapped Ron on the back, relieved that he hadn't needed to state their reasons out loud. It certainly wouldn't help Hagrid to know that Ron and Harry didn't really want to be in lessons for Care of Magical Creatures. Not Hagrid's version of the class, anyway. Too much potential for loss of limb. They'd enrolled anyway in an effort to offer Hagrid some moral support. The war had been terrible for everyone, but Hagrid always had been a bit soft-hearted. He was taking the losses hard. Harry wanted to be there for him, and he'd known that he wouldn't find the time to see the half-giant a couple of times a week unless he took a class with him.
Why Malfoy was in the class was another question. Harry really had no idea. He was actually surprised that Malfoy had chosen an eighth year at all. Of course, his seventh year at Hogwarts hadn't counted; the Ministry had declared the 1997-1998 school year "null and void," a decision Harry agreed with completely. But still, he'd expected Malfoy to prepare for his N.E.W.T.s with private tutors, in the luxury of his family manor . . . though perhaps the place held so many ugly memories that Malfoy just wanted to be away from it.
The side of the Light, after all, wasn't the only side that had suffered in the war.
"Let's just pay attention and try to learn something," said Harry, hoping that Ron would take the hint and stop whinging about Malfoy.
"Pay attention so we don't get bit or mauled or worse," muttered Ron.
"That too."
"But Malfoy--"
"Just ignore him," said Harry impatiently. "God knows I plan to."
***
Ignoring Malfoy proved easier said than done, however.
It started during the very first lesson, which of course had to feature the insane topic of magical piranhas.
Harry and Ron took up a place to one side of the large tank Hagrid had set out. Harry expected Draco to hang back, given his record with magical creatures. Why would he want to get close to fish that when full-grown, could send spectral jaws leaping twenty feet above the surface of the water? Even Harry didn't want to get close to them, and he was a Gryffindor!
Malfoy, though, not only stood as close to the tank as Harry and Ron, but he planted himself right at Harry's side.
"Buzz off," said Ron, leaning around Harry to glare.
"I didn't know they'd be so colorful," said Malfoy, addressing the remark to Harry. "Did you?"
Surprised, Harry glanced to the side, his resolve to ignore Malfoy forgotten. Damn, life just wasn't fair. You'd never know from looking at Malfoy that he'd had a rough time the previous year. And when had Malfoy got so handsome? He was supposed to be a pointy-faced git. Well, he was probably still a git, but he'd finally grown into his features. He didn't look pointy any longer. No . . . he looked angular, lean, and good enough to--
Harry hurriedly wiped that thought away. There wasn't any point in letting himself become attracted to Draco Malfoy, who had never shown any hint of playing for his own team. Just because Harry had discovered his own sexuality in the wake of the war didn't mean that Malfoy had done the same.
"Potter?"
Caught up in his contemplation of Draco's hair -- had it always gleamed in the sun like this? -- Harry couldn't even remember the question he was supposed to answer. He actually wasn't sure that Draco had asked a question.
"Pardon?"
The other man scowled, but the expression lasted no more than a second. When he spoke, his voice was actually light-hearted. "I wondered if you'd seen magical piranhas before."
"Oh. No," said Harry.
Ron leaned around Harry again. "We're ignoring you, in case you hadn't noticed. You shouldn't be here, so we're going to act like you're not."
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but closed it when Hagrid's booming voice rang out to start the class.
***
After that, Harry did a better job of ignoring Malfoy during lessons. Malfoy didn't like it; that much was obvious. He tried to catch Harry's eye at least five times a day. Harry pretended not to notice. He wasn't being petty; if things were different, he might have been willing to become friends of some sort with Malfoy. That would be the right thing to do. Malfoy never had had any friends that would steer him in the right direction.
Harry couldn't be that for him, though, and not because Ron would throw a fit. The real problem was that ever since that first day in Magical Creatures, Harry was finding himself more and more attracted to Malfoy. He couldn't seem to help himself. Being friends with Malfoy would be sheer torture -- Harry would want more.
And so, he kept his distance and ignored Malfoy's attempts to speak to him.
At least those generally only came during lessons with Hagrid. It was the nature of the class, Harry supposed. They were outdoors and moving around a lot instead of sitting in assigned seats. Of course, that was often true in Defence as well, or at least it was true during mock duels or other practice sessions, but Malfoy was strictly business at those times.
Huh. Maybe he did want to be an Auror.
Or . . . maybe having Voldemort living in his house had convinced him he needed to know more about Defence against the Dark Arts, as opposed to the dark arts themselves. Though Harry didn't think that Malfoy actually knew that much about the latter, either. He'd clearly been out of his depth among the other Death Eaters.
"It's still rather warm for this late in October," said Malfoy now as he stood at Harry's side by the lake. Some of the piranhas were big enough now to be in a pen near the shore. "Don't you think?"
"Why do you keep talking to Harry, Malfoy?" asked Ron. "Isn't it clear by now that he doesn't want to talk with you? Or have anything to do with you? Nothing you could do is worth his attention, so shove off."
Malfoy drew back as if slapped.
After that, he didn't try to catch Harry's eye again.
***
Malfoy continued to be all business during their indoor classes together.
In Magical Creatures, however, things went from bad to worse.
Hagrid had sent the class into a marshy area with a warning to keep their wits about them and their wands out as they searched for dugbogs. Ron and Harry had already mistaken three different chunks of dead wood for dugbogs when Malfoy came tearing into the marsh, yelling at the top of his lungs.
"The piranhas have escaped into the Black Lake! The piranhas have escaped into the Black Lake! They'll eat the merpeople, they'll eat the giant squid--"
"Good riddance," said Ron as Malfoy came to a halt, panting.
"If the lake ends up being full of piranha and nothing else, that won't be good," said Harry, beginning to head back to the shore. "And their spectral jaws will put an end to anybody flying over the lake, unless we can fix this. What did you see exactly, Malfoy?"
"Oh, it was terrible! Parts of the surface were frothing with blood, though I don't know what kind--"
"Do you know how they escaped their pen?"
Ron snorted. "He probably let them go!"
Malfoy bared his teeth as he hurried along to keep up with Harry's determined strides. "I've no idea how they escaped, Weasel. For all I know, a school of shrake ate the net separating the piranha from the rest of the lake."
"That net was magically reinforced," spat Ron, "and besides, the shrake is an ocean-going species--"
"Freshwater shrake, then--"
More alarmed the more he thought about it, Harry broke into a run and didn't stop until he reached the lake.
When he first got there, he wasn't sure what to think. There wasn't any frothing blood; the surface looked clear and calm . . . and the piranha pen seemed intact as far as he could see.
The rest of the class came to a halt behind him.
That was when the mutterings began.
And the laughter. One person's laughter.
"Malfoy!" shouted Harry as he turned around. "What's wrong with you? You think it's funny to scare everybody?"
"Well, yes," said Malfoy, still chortling. "The look on your face, Potter. The look on your face!" He began to speak in a sing-song voice. "I must save the merpeople! I must save the giant squid!"
"Shut up, Malfoy," growled Harry. "You're sick. I hope you know that."
Hagrid ambled up then. "Problem, Harry?"
Harry pointed. "Malfoy ran into the marsh screaming that the piranha had escaped!"
"Now really," said Malfoy in a droll tone. "The marsh can't scream at all, Potter!"
"Shut up!"
Hagrid rounded on Malfoy. "Didya, Draco? Didya really do such a thing?"
Harry could almost see the gears clicking in Malfoy's head. The git was clearly pondering if he could get away with lying. Seeing that the entire class had heard his wild claims, though . . .
"Yes," he said with a toss of his head. Harry was annoyed to find himself noticing, again, how the sun gleamed against Malfoy's hair. How could he be attracted to such a prat? "I thought it would be amusing."
"And was it?" challenged Ron in a tone that said he was spoiling for a fight.
"Well, yes," said Draco, starting to laugh again.
Ron flung his arm out, wand pointed.
"Now, now," said Hagrid. "No need fer that, Ron. No real harm done. Draco won't do it agin, will ya?"
"No, of course not," said Draco in a serious voice. "Harry . . . I'm sorry. I just thought it would . . . I don't know what I thought."
"Sorry would be if you jumped in the piranha pen," said Ron, his wand hand twitching even though he'd lowered his arm by then.
Draco ignored that, and Harry went back to trying to ignore Draco, but he couldn't quite manage it. What on earth had possessed the other man to do such a ridiculous thing? And at his age, too!
On the other hand, he had seemed sincerely sorry . . . so maybe he'd got it out of his system, whatever it had been.
***
No such luck.
Draco waited a month before he did anything strange again. He spent most of that month trying to chat Harry up, just like he'd done at the beginning of the term.
Then he tired of that, and pretended like Harry didn't exist.
A week after that, Draco was missing on the morning when Hagrid began to lecture them about erklings.
"Now, they usually live in Germany, but quite a few 'ave been smuggled ta our shores over the years, and there's a right colony of them 'ere in the forest. Don' worry, though. Their laugh dazes children, and by seventh year, or eighth fer some 'a you, yer too growed-up ta be much affected."
"Except for Malfoy," said Ron in a loud voice.
The whole class chuckled, and Hagrid guffawed along with them.
Malfoy appeared as if summoned by his name. He was panting again, his hair wild like he'd run the whole way to the clearing Hagrid preferred for lecture days.
For one long moment he looked around frantically. Then his gaze settled on Harry and he seemed to relax a fraction, even as he opened his mouth and blurted, "I know nobody here will believe me, but I swear it's true, I swear! The piranha have sprouted spectral wings as well as jaws, now! And they're strong enough to let them fly!"
"Oh, pull the other one," said Ron, rolling his eyes.
"Harry," said Malfoy in a desperate, pleading voice, "they were heading toward the castle!"
A large wrinkle furrowed Hagrid's brow. "Herbology's meeting outside taday, I heard Pomona sayin' at breakfast. Firsties'll be practicing taking cuttings off wild plants--"
"They'll be eaten alive!" Malfoy clutched his wand in his hand and glared at Harry. "Well, if you won't get off your Gryffindor arse and do something, I will--"
Harry was ninety-nine percent sure that Malfoy was full of it, but there was that one percent chance that this time he was telling the truth. How could Harry live with himself if some of the first-years got hurt or worse?
Jumping to his feet, he snatched his wand from his pocket as he ran headlong toward the castle, Malfoy and the rest of the class fast on his heels.
He saw the Herbology class as he came around to the other side of the castle. All the first-years on hands and knees, wands out ready to perform cutting charms, little floating baskets of preserved cuttings following along behind them. Sprout was roaming from student to student, offering advice and praise in her expansive way.
But there was no sign of any flying piranhas.
Harry pulled to a halt three feet away from Sprout.
"Potter," she said warmly, her joints creaking a little as she clambered to her feet. "I do wish you'd chosen to continue on in Herbology, but I suppose it's not the most important subject for an Auror. Is there something I can do for . . ."
Her voice tapered off as the rest of the class caught up to Harry, Hagrid bringing up the read.
Harry gulped. This was a bit embarrassing, even if it was better to be safe than sorry. "We . . . we heard there were . . . er . . . I don't suppose you've seen any piranhas around here?"
The little firsties began to titter as they stood up and crowded around Harry. Their hands reached out to touch his robes, their mouths dropping open in awe.
Harry blushed. Damned Chosen One mystique. Apparently, it didn't matter that he'd just sounded like he didn't know that fish lived in water. The youngest students had heard of the Battle of Hogwarts and Harry's role in the war, and that was all that mattered.
Sprout gave him a kindly look. "I've think you need a few packets of my special tea blend, Potter. You wouldn't be the first student to overwork himself during his N.E.W.T. year."
"Uh, thanks," said Harry, edging away from the children's grasping hands.
"Back ter class," growled Hagrid in a voice that promised nothing good for Draco.
***
"Ya promised!" roared Hagrid as soon as the whole class had returned to the clearing. "Ya promised an end to this foolishness, Draco!"
"Oh, I don't think I went so far as to promise," said Draco in a jolly tone. He'd managed to hold his humour in while Sprout was around, but he'd howled with laughter the whole way back. Harry had had to stop Ron from hexing Draco. Three times.
"Ya said . . . ya said . . ." Hagrid scrunched up his face and then scratched his head. "Well, I dunno exactly, but ya knew full well we didn't like your last little joke on us."
"That's right. It was just a joke. All's well that ends well, and all that rot--"
"Not so fast, Malfoy," said Harry. "Your little 'joke' didn't stay in class this time. You said that the piranhas were flying toward the castle, which can only mean that you wanted to see us make fools of ourselves in front of the other students and teachers--"
"I just thought you'd run out into the clear and see that there were no fish about," interrupted Draco. "How was I to know that Herbology would be outside the greenhouses today?"
"Ya made Harry look like a complete imbecile," shouted Hagrid.
Harry winced from the reminder. And the volume.
"Fer that ya deserve a dressing down from the Headmistress herself! And twenty points from Slytherin while I'm at it--"
Malfoy's face went absolutely pasty and his voice emerged as a harsh croak. "No, please--"
Hagrid suddenly plopped himself down on a log. "Ach, that's a mite harsh, at that. Fifteen points'll be enough, I s'pose--"
Malfoy made a swallowing noise. "No, I meant that I'd rather this matter not be referred to the Headmistress. We can keep it between ourselves, surely?"
"You're the one who made sure people outside the class would know about your stupid prank," said Ron.
"I told you, that was a mistake!"
"Yeah, well it sure as hell was--"
"Wait, Ron," said Harry. Granted, Malfoy had lied last time about being sorry, and for all Harry knew he could be lying again, but something about the way he was holding himself screamed that he was barely holding in panic. Harry stepped up to him and spoke in a voice that was as gentle as he could manage. He didn't think he did so well at it, but at least his tone wasn't harsh. "Why don't you want McGonagall to know what you've been doing, Draco?"
Malfoy took a step closer to Harry and spoke in a hushed tone. "She said-- she said--"
"You can tell me. What did she say?"
Malfoy closed his eyes, but not before Harry saw the flash of pain in them. "She said that I was here on sufferance, and only because Dumbledore had wanted to help me."
"I told her that," said Harry. "Or . . . not the sufferance part, but that Dumbledore had wanted very much to help you, yes. So?"
"She said that if I caused the slightest disturbance I'd be out on my ear," said Draco, opening his eyes.
"So why have you been causing them?" asked Harry, very softly.
"I . . . I don't know. I . . . I think I just couldn't bear the way you were ignoring me." Draco swallowed. "Please don't let him send me to the Headmistress. Please, Potter. Tell him he can take fifty points from Slytherin, or have me muck out his hut, or . . . I'll do anything. Anything. Truly."
"It's not really up to me."
A wry expression crossed Malfoy's face. "Of course it's up to you, Potter, if you want it to be. I think you're the only one in Britain who doesn't realise it."
Harry remembered the children. Their worshipful faces. Like it or not, Malfoy was probably right.
"All right. I'll help you for a promise," said Harry. "A real promise, this time. You have to mean it, Malfoy. I'm serious."
A wave of heat swept over Harry as Malfoy looked him over, head to foot. Harry recognized that sort of look. It was the same kind that he was always trying not to give Malfoy.
Huh. Maybe Malfoy did play for his own team.
Which didn't make what he was thinking right, of course.
"Nothing like that," said Harry, shaking his head. "Just promise that you won't cry wolf again, all right?"
Was it his imagination, or did Malfoy look puzzled? Maybe he was just confused, considering what he said next. "Cry wolf?"
"Muggle story. It means . . . just promise that you'll stop pretending that something dangerous is on the loose."
"Oh." Malfoy nodded. "Yes, all right."
"Promise."
"I promise." Malfoy looked down at his feet. "Um . . . could I ask you for a favor? It'll help me keep my promise. If you . . . if you could talk to me once in a while instead of pretending I don't exist, I don't think I'd need to try so hard to get your attention."
"I can do that," said Harry. Now he was the one looking down at his feet as he restlessly kicked at the grass underfoot. "Um . . . maybe we could go out for a pint tonight. Three Broomsticks?"
Malfoy's expression was shuttered when Harry glanced up. "The Hog's Head would be better, not that it matters. I'm here on a restricted basis. No access to Hogsmeade."
"Oh." Well, he'd come this far. He might as well jump in with both feet. "Your room, then? I'll go into town before dinner and pick up a bottle for us."
Malfoy looked stunned. And then pleased. Very pleased. "It's been a bit lonely being the only eighth-year Slytherin, but now I think the private room will come in handy."
Harry tried not to blush again. He was pretty sure that meant exactly what it sounded like.
***
It did, and it didn't.
That night they drank the ale Harry brought over, and they talked and talked, and when they were tipsy enough, they fell on Malfoy's narrow bed together and snogged.
It didn't go past that, though. Not that night. But that didn't matter. Harry still stumbled back to his dormitory grinning like a loon. Draco was one hell of a kisser.
He was Draco, now. Not Malfoy.
Draco kept his promise and stopped disrupting Magical Creatures class. Harry rewarded him with lots and lots of attention. Ron objected at first, but by the third week, all he did was roll his eyes and let Harry get on with it. Hermione wasn't in Magical Creatures class, but she noticed how much friendlier Harry was toward Draco in the other classes they all shared.
She said that Harry seemed happier than she'd ever seen him, and gave him a big hug.
***
Harry was happier than he'd ever been, and not just because he was finally free of the threat of Voldemort hanging over his head. He'd also never known what it was like to be so physically satisfied. They'd only kissed that first night, but it wasn't long before they went all the way. In every possible way.
Harry would never have guessed it, but Draco turned out to be a generous lover, always intent on seeing to his partner's pleasure before his own. Not to be outdone, Harry did his best to return the favor.
It led to some very, very pleasurable times in bed. And they were in bed a lot. Draco's bed, since Harry was rooming with Ron.
Draco confessed that he'd thought about having private tutors instead of facing Hogwarts again. The deciding factor, surprisingly enough, had been Harry.
"I wanted to see you," said Draco. "I . . . I'd heard that you had come out, and it was like the scales fell from my eyes. Maybe I never let myself become attracted to you earlier because it seemed so hopeless. You were always with girls . . ."
"Just as well," said Harry. "Imagine what Voldemort would have done if he'd picked up any hint that you were interested in shagging me."
"Mmm, perhaps a sense of self-preservation was tied up into all of it." Draco smiled, his whole face lighting up. "I just know that as soon as it was safe to look at you like that, I wanted to do nothing but look and look and look."
"Look your fill," said Harry, stretching out on top of the coverlet. Since he was nude from head to toe, he was giving Draco quite the view. Draco wasn't shy about taking advantage of it.
Later, when they were both sated, Harry asked the question he'd been wondering about for a while by then. "So why are you in every one of my lessons, Draco?"
The other man colored slightly, which didn't happen often. "To be near you."
"But you have to prepare for your own future, not mine," said Harry, sitting up in bed and looking down at Draco. "What do you want to do once you've finished your education here?"
"Be an Auror, of course."
"Why?'
Draco blinked. "To be near you."
"You can't base your life on me," said Harry gently.
Draco went completely still. "Oh. You . . . you're right, of course. I wasn't thinking. I thought . . . well, I suppose it doesn't matter what I thought."
"It's all right. I'm glad you understand."
"Yes," said Draco slowly, his face half-turned away. "I understand. I have to get to the library, Harry. I need to do more research for that Potions essay we have coming due."
"Oh." Harry sat up, trying not to flush. The change in subject seemed rather abrupt, but then again, Draco was working very hard in all his classes, now. Even Magical Creatures, now that he'd stopped his ridiculous attempts to get Harry's attention. "Yeah, all right. I'll see you in the morning."
"Yes," said Draco in a distant tone, his mind obviously already on his essay.
***
In the morning, though, Draco didn't walk with Harry to their first class together, like he'd been doing ever since they'd got together. He avoided Harry in the halls between classes, and ignored him completely during lessons. That last part wasn't so very strange; Draco was usually focused on his studies during classes other than Magical Creatures. His attitude seemed to have a more deliberate air to it now, though.
Harry didn't know what to make of it. He told himself that Draco was probably just having an off day.
He found out differently that night after dinner when he knocked on Draco's door.
"Yes?"
Harry was used to being invited in. "Er . . ."
Draco tapped a foot. "I'm somewhat busy at the moment, Potter."
Potter?
Perhaps the direct approach, thought Harry. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," said Draco, looking puzzled. "Well, you and I have reached our end, but it was amusing while it lasted, so I'd hardly call it something wrong . . ."
Harry felt a bit like he was choking. He knew he sounded like it, too. "Our end?"
"Yes." Draco gave him a rather pitying look. "You didn't know? You were a good shag, Potter. Better than I expected, if you want the truth." He made a small laughing sound.
"A good shag!"
"Do you want me to repeat it?"
Harry glowered. "Are you trying to say that you're dropping me?"
"It was bound to happen sooner or later."
"Fine," snapped Harry. "I don't need you, either."
Something flashed in Draco's eyes. Harry wasn't sure what, and he wasn't in the mood to wonder for long. He left without another word and went back to Gryffindor, where he threw himself on his bed and punched his pillow until it felt right.
Not that it ever did feel right. Damn it all, he'd got used to the pillows on Draco's bed.
***
Draco kept on ignoring him after that, in and out of class. The worst part about it was how Harry noticed it so much these days. He knew he shouldn't. He'd been nothing but a fling for Draco. An adventure. It was obvious now that it had never been anything else. Otherwise, Draco wouldn't have dropped him for no reason like that.
Harry sighed, annoyed to find he'd been thinking about the prat again. He had to find a way to get over it.
Over him, that was.
He wasn't managing to, though. Harry was still obsessing over Draco on the night when Magical Creatures class assembled at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, listening to Hagrid explain the first night field-study of the year. This time, they were simply to enter the forest and observe the creatures they could find, noting the difference between night-time and day-time behavior. Hagrid chuckled a little as he advised them to pay particular attention to any erklings they might encounter, and then he sent them off in groups of three.
Harry hated himself for hoping that Draco would be in his group.
He told himself that it was just as well Draco wasn't.
***
Ron was shivering as he walked along. "This reminds me too much of those awful nights we spent camping," he whispered, looking left and right as they stepped across a small stream. "Lumos doesn't do enough to let you see, not when the night is as black as this."
"There's a full moon out," said Harry.
"Theoretically."
Harry had to admit, Ron had a point. The forest was so thick and dense through this section that there might as well be no moon at all. It was rare that a silvery ray of moonlight reached through the foliage overhead to give them a sense of their surroundings.
A horrible crashing noise to their left had both Harry and Ron tensing, their wands held at the ready as something rushed towards them, tripping over branches and then splashing through the stream they'd just crossed.
"Harry!" gasped Draco as he came into view, his wand casting a feeble light. "Oh, thank Merlin. There's a werewolf loose in the forest tonight!"
"Not this again," snarled Ron as he thrust his wand out as if to hex Draco. "You broke Harry's heart, but that's not enough for you, is it? You have to watch him make a fool of himself again, rushing off to fight threats you make up as you go--"
Ignoring Ron completely, Draco rushed past him, practically hurling himself into Harry's arms. "I'm not making it up! I'm not! There's a werewolf--"
"Then why are you here instead of mauled?" asked Harry, shoving Draco away.
"I run fast--"
"How stupid do I look?"
"Harry--"
Whatever Draco might have said was cut off by the noise of a wolf baying.
And not just any wolf.
Harry would recognize that noise anywhere. It sent him back several years, to the night when Remus had stalked them in werewolf form.
For one moment he wished it could be Remus out there in the forest. But of course it wasn't.
"Oh Merlin, Merlin, Merlin," babbled Draco. "I . . . I hate this forest at night--"
"Go back to the castle," said Harry in a low tone. "I'll take care of this."
"No!" yelped Draco in an off-key, panicked voice. "You come back with me! I can't leave you out here alone with a monster roaming loose!"
"I thought you ran to get Harry so he could save you," said Ron, still snarling.
"I just want him out of here before--"
"I can't leave the others out here with a werewolf roaming loose," interrupted Harry. "Get back to the castle, Draco."
"No--"
The baying came again, this time from behind them.
No more point in argument; the werewolf was between them and the castle, now.
Draco leapt behind Harry and grabbed onto him. "We have to run--"
"I have to make sure he doesn't hurt anybody."
Another growl announced the werewolf's location as ever closer, and then suddenly the creature burst out into the small area of light created by their wands.
Draco screamed.
A mistake, as it turned out. The noise seemed to draw the wolf; he leapt straight into the air, sailing over Harry's head and grabbing Draco by the shoulder as he flew past. Harry shot off a hex but it bounced right off the werewolf's hide.
Harry cursed as Draco was dragged away from him. Then he tried a curse, but that failed too; werewolves were notoriously difficult to take down with magic. What he needed was something silver -- but he had nothing to hand.
Draco was still screaming, a sound of pure terror by then.
"Accio Draco Malfoy!" cried Harry, putting every last ounce of power into the charm.
Draco was forcibly ripped from the werewolf's grasp and smacked squarely into Harry, knocking him off his feet.
A horrible growling noise followed close behind -- and then there was a tremendous cracking noise and the werewolf's howls seemed to fade away like they were spinning off into the distance.
Harry thrust Draco behind him as he leapt to his feet and pointed his wand left and right, looking for the deranged creature.
What he saw was a large crater in the ground, not three feet from him.
"Bottomless pit spell," gasped Ron, looking green. Whether that was from the fright they'd all had or the powerful magic he'd just practiced, Harry didn't know. "But . . . but . . . that's just an expression. It won't actually be bottomless--"
Harry nodded grimly and cast a series of spells that placed stout steel bars over the hole. By the time he was done, the bars criss-crossed so that nothing larger than a hamster could squeeze through them.
He sat down, exhausted, but quickly got a second wind when Draco more-or-less crawled onto his lap, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck.
Harry set him away. "You weren't bit, were you?"
"No."
"Scratched?"
"No." Draco smiled. "My hero. That was quick thinking, Harry, working magic on me when your spells didn't work on the werewolf."
"Bet you're sorry you dropped him like a bad wand," accused Ron. "Not that I'm upset, since Harry's worth ten of you--"
Draco looked at Harry, his heart in his eyes, and licked his lips like he was gathering his courage. "I . . . I had to drop you," he whispered. "It was better to end it, once I knew that I was just a fling for you--"
Harry sighed. "When did I ever say that you were that, Draco?"
"When . . . when you said that I couldn't base my life on you . . ."
"Well, you can't," retorted Harry. "You have to have your own life, your own interests. You can't pick a job that's probably not right for you, just to be near me."
"I thought you were warning me off," cried Draco. "I thought you were trying to tell me that what we had was just for the school year!"
"Oh," said Harry. He smiled, then. "I didn't mean that, Draco."
Ron sighed, long and loud, and shook his head.
Draco swallowed again. "What did you mean, then? Do you . . . did I really break your heart like Weasley said?"
"Yeah," said Harry gruffly.
Draco's voice came very softly. "I'm sorry."
Harry smiled again. "Well . . . it sounds to me now like I might have broken yours, too. A little?"
"More than a little."
They embraced then, and kissed, and ended up wrapped in each other's arms, snogging like their lives depended on it. Harry forgot all about Ron standing close by. He forgot about the dangers of the forest.
Only to abruptly remember both when the werewolf hurled itself against the steel bars Harry had conjured. They held, but it was still a terrible sight, watching the monster trying to get free.
"We'd better alert Hagrid and the Headmistress to what we've captured," said Harry, jumping to his feet and sending his Patronus forth. "Until then we'll stand guard."
"And then?" asked Draco, his eyes glowing like they used to.
"And then," said Harry, smiling widely, "we'll figure out what comes next. For you, for me, for us, hmm?"
Ron rolled his eyes a little, but stepped to the side to give them at least the illusion of privacy. Harry threw him a grateful look, then returned his attention to Draco.
"Us," repeated Draco. "Yes."
"The boy who cried werewolf is supposed to be eaten in the end," muttered Ron.
"He," said Draco with a disarming smile, "didn't have a Harry to protect him. I do."
I do . . .
Harry hoped to hear those words in another context, someday. That could wait . . . but not too long.
The End
