𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇

Chapter 16

As soon as Harry got out of the hall, he ducked into an alcove, threw his cloak over his head and, quickly checking that his feet didn’t show, followed Hexam who, in turn, was following Malfoy.

Malfoy was walking fast, head ducked low. Hexam and Harry followed him to an abandoned classroom. He opened the locked door with a whispered alohomora and went inside. A moment later Hexam quietly followed the Slytherin in. Harry paused outside, wondering if he should eavesdrop from outside or risk opening the door.

To his frustration, he could hear nothing. The door was thick and let no noise through. Harry put his hand on the door handle and carefully turned it. It was locked.

Damn! If he unlocked it, it would make a sound and definitely alert Malfoy and Hexam. Malfoy knew about the cloak, even if Hexam didn’t, and would know immediately what was happening. Harry paced back and forth in frustration, wondering how...

Extendable ears! He was sure he had some in his trunk – and if he didn’t, Ron certainly did.

He drew his wand and concentrated. “Accio extendable ears,” he whispered, unsure if the spell would work – after all, the ears were locked in his trunk.

A moment later, the long pink string came flying around the corner and straight to Harry’s hand. He breathed a sigh of relief and was about to insert the ears when the door flew open. Malfoy came running out at full tilt, almost crashing right into Harry, who only just managed to get out of the way. Harry quickly ducked behind a pillar, despite being invisible, and, sure enough, a moment later, Hexam left the room.

But he did not follow Malfoy. Instead he watched the Slytherin disappear back down the corridor, then, with a heavy sigh, turned on his heel and stormed off the other way, leaving Harry torn between following Malfoy to see if he was all right or following Hexam to see if he could find out what he was up to.

“Harry?” Ron’s voice came from the corridor, speaking quietly. Harry pulled off the cloak and went to his friend. Ron was standing at a window, map in hand. He looked relieved when he saw Harry walking towards him. “What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry sighed, folding the cloak and tucking it back inside his shirt. “Malfoy ran for it and Hexam went the other way. I’ve no idea what they were doing in that room. I couldn’t hear.”

“Malfoy’s gone to the dorm,” Ron said, tapping the map.

“Something’s badly wrong,” Harry said softly. “Whatever message that owl was bringing, it was bad.”

“Mate...” Ron started. “Maybe you should just leave it. You can’t save everyone, every time, especially if they don’t want to be saved. Whatever’s happening is between those two.”

“He’s a teacher, Ron,” Harry whispered. “He shouldn’t be using his position...”

“And Malfoy is eighteen. He’s an adult.”

“It’s still wrong.”

“Merlin’s knob cheese, Harry. You don’t know anything!

“What the hell are you talking about! Tell me, for fuck’s sake.” Harry finally snapped.

Ron’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Nev told me he caught Malfoy bent over a desk taking it from that Death Eater in seventh year – the teacher... Carrow?”

Harry suddenly felt sick. “I’m going to talk to him.” He snatched the map out of Ron’s hand and checked that Malfoy was still in the dorm. “”Try and keep the others out of there for a while.”

“Harry...”

Harry ignored Ron’s plea to come back. He was going to get to the bottom of this once and for all.

*************

The curtains around Malfoy’s bed were closed. Harry approached the bed and gently drew one aside, hoping that Malfoy hadn’t spelled them shut. The curtain readily opened and Harry gazed down at Malfoy. He was face down on the bed, head buried in a pillow, his shoulders shaking violently, although there was no sound.

Harry felt a prickle of some unnamed fluttering sensation deep in his gut. Biting his own lip gently, he reached out, then, thinking better of it, decided not to startle Malfoy and whispered his name softly.

Malfoy froze, but did not take his head from the pillow.

“Malfoy, are you all right?”

“Piss off, Potter.”

Instead, Harry sat down on the side of the bed, pulled the curtain closed and cast a silencing spell. “There. No one can hear us now,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“I told you to fuck off.”

In exasperation, Harry gazed down at the Slytherin’s tousled blond hair. The thought that it looked really soft drifted through his mind, but he shoved the thought away, along with that strange feeling in his stomach – almost like butterflies. He reached out once more, and this time, put a gentle hand on Malfoy’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to be alone,” he said quietly. His hand slowly moved upwards, almost as if it had independent thought. He stroked Malfoy’s hair almost tenderly and, to his surprise, Malfoy instantly relaxed, although he was silent.

For about five minutes Harry sat there, saying nothing, but only stroking Malfoy’s cool, silky hair, wishing that his hair was as soft, as controlled, as heavy. To his utmost surprise, Malfoy let him.

Finally, Malfoy turned over, his reddened eyes staring into Harry’s own. The butterfly feeling returned full force and Harry drew back, his teeth finding his own lip once more. Merlin, but he felt strange.... almost like the way he used to feel when Ginny...

“I know what you want, Potter,” Malfoy hissed. “It’s pretty fucking obvious.”

“What? What do you mean?” Harry blinked at the Slytherin, confused.

Instead of replying, Malfoy sat up, grabbed Harry by the shoulders and kissed him, hard. For a moment, Harry sank into the kiss, opening his mouth to Malfoy’s harsh invasion. He tasted so sweet, of apple and pumpkin juice, and the salt of tears. Harry tightened his arms around Malfoy’s neck, the butterflies in his stomach turning into what felt like flesh-eating bats, flapping madly around in his stomach, wanting to escape, wanting him to do more. Wildly, he grabbed at Malfoy’s hair, scratching his fingers through it as Malfoy pushed him back onto the bed, his tongue exploring Harry’s mouth. Then Malfoy reached for the buttons of Harry’s trousers and the touch of his hand on Harry’s suddenly aching hard-on drew Harry back to his senses.

“Oh my GOD!” Harry pushed Malfoy away, his hand darting to his sore mouth. He leapt to his feet. “What are you...? How do you...? Oh my God!”

Malfoy’s silver eyes stared up at him, his expression a mix of sneer, violence and... something else. “What’s wrong, Potter?” he asked softly, his voice more malevolent that Harry had ever heard it. “Don’t you want to fuck me? You could have fooled me.”

“Don’t... just stay away from me!” Harry backed off, out of the bed curtains, then, turning, he fled.