Sex Magic Continued

Chapter 21

"June!" Hermione exclaimed incredulously as Harry told her and Ron about his new predicament over dinner.  "And they're just now telling you this? Oh, Harry," she frowned sympathetically while looking at him, trying to assess his own emotions on the subject, which frankly, he couldn't even sort out.

"Can you not just... not show up for the second term?" Ron asked with a shrug.  "So you don't get any credit, who cares? Isn't that better than having to shag Malfoy for seven more months?"

"It's not just I don't get any credit, it makes it to where everything they've made us do pointless," Harry ran a hand through his eternally messy hair and bitterly added, "It's not really up to me anyway, is it?"

"What do you mean? Of course it is," Ron said with a confused look, looking from Harry to Hermione.  He still didn't know about Dumbledore's hand all of this, and the Great Hall was the last place Harry wanted to talk to him about it.  Hermione seemed to have the same idea.

She looked over at him, resting her hand on his thigh. "We can talk about that later, okay?"  Ron nodded, still looking somewhat baffled, but thankfully dropped it.

Later that evening, while Hermione caught Ron up on Dumbledore and Voldemort and the upcoming war, Harry needed to get away.  Hiding under his invisibility cloak, he went to loneliest part of the castle he could think of: the second floor.  The only thing there besides empty classrooms was the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor's office, which nobody was likely to be in at this hour.  He sat with his back against the wall and his forehead pressed against his knees.  He needed some time alone to just think. 

There was so much expected of him that nobody seemed to stop and think about his feelings and his say in this.  Dumbledore expected him to somehow, in only seven months, seduce Draco Malfoy to their side.  If not, the Slytherins were likely to fight with the Death Eaters, not against them.   In a sense, the fate of the war rested on Harry's shoulders, and Dumbledore didn't even seem to stop and think about the effect this would have on Harry.  

He was angry with Dumbledore, Mason and McGonagall for making him do this, angry with Draco for getting him so addicted to him, with Zabini and the other Slytherins for not being able to mind their own business, and with the rest of the Gryffindors who seemed to have forgotten about his existence now that rumors were being spread about him and Malfoy.  When he really thought about it, he was annoyed with pretty much everyone in the castle.

Now, he had to deal with that until June, not just two more weeks.  This was going to be fun.

***

"Hey, Potter," Harry heard Zabini quip before Snape entered the classroom for their Potions lesson.  "Want to switch seats?"

"What are you talking about, Zabini?" Harry asked, his voice full of irritation.  He really didn't want to have to deal with Blaze's  shit this early in the morning.

"I just figured you and Draco would want to sit by each other,"  He smirked.  "Couples usually do that, don't they?"

Draco, who was sat next to Blaze, just rolled his eyes and did his best to a keep a stoic expression.  Zabini would do everything he could to try and take Draco's power away, and if he showed any signs of weakness, Zabini would pounce.

"You wouldn't know, would you, what with never having been in one yourself," Harry retorted.

"Sounds to me that you just admitted to be Malfoy's boyfriend" Zabini said raising an eyebrow

"And it sounds to me like you're just jealous of the fact that we're doing better in the class than you ever will.  Remind me, how long did it take you and Marietta to levitate, again?  Oh," Harry snapped and pointed at Blaze as if he just remembered the answer.  "That's right, you never did."

"If it isn't true, Potty, why so defensive?" Pansy asked cruelly

"It's not," Draco replied lazily, feigning disinterest.  "Now, if you have nothing original to say, don't say anything at all; you're giving me a headache."  Before anyone could say anything else on the subject, Snape walked in and began that day's lesson.

***

While walking down the corridor back to the Gryffindor tower after classes that day, he felt someone grab his upper arm and pull him into an empty classroom, closing the door behind them.

"Who is that, what do you want?" Harry exclaimed, looking around the dark room.

It was Draco's voice who answered.  "Shut up, Potter, it's just me."

"Malfoy? What the hell is your problem, have you gone mad?"  As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see the Slythrin's outline an arm's length away from him.  His hands seemed to be in his robe pockets.

"I needed to talk to you, and this is the best way to do it."

"What about?" Harry asked skeptically.

For a while, there was silence.  Then finally, "I'm not going to be doing to second term"

"You- what? What do you mean you're not going to, you have to!" Harry said astonished.  He felt like he had just been punched in the stomach; he felt like he was going to be sick. 

"I don't have to.  I promised you the first semester, I don't owe you any more than that, so I'm not going to attend the second term."  Draco came to this conclusion over dinner, and it should have been an easy thing to do.  His hands shouldn't be shaking nor should  his voice be threatening to break.  However, that's exactly what was happening.  Although he would never admit it, he was going to miss Harry's kiss, and his touch, as well as other certain parts of him as well...

"If we don't, we don't get a grade for the first term, it would have all been useless," was all Harry could bring himself to say.

Draco looked Harry in the eye best he could in the dark.  "That's a hell of a lot better than knowing that you're being used as a pawn, isn't it?"

The terrible thing was that Harry couldn't argue.  Dumbledore was using both of them to try and win a war, against their wills; a war Draco was already adamant about which side he stood on.  Harry felt his stomach sink and all he could do was reach out and place his hand on Draco's waist and take a step closer to him. 

Draco tensed and whispered, almost as a plea, "Don't... don't touch me"

Harry pressed his lips against Draco's, kissing him slowly and pulling the Slytherin closer to him.  Draco was too shocked to try and push him away.  Not because Harry kissed him, that he was used to, but because of  how he did it.  The other times, it was always forceful, sexual.  This was... Draco didn't even know how to describe it.  They weren't doing this to finish an assignment, or to turn each other on.  Harry was kissing him solely because he wanted to.  There was no tongue, no groping, just the emotions they were too scared to say out loud.

Draco's hand found itself resting on Harry's shoulder though he had no memory of moving it.  He was losing himself in Harry, and Harry in him.  He knew he should pull away and berate Potter for being a pervert, should storm out of the room, slap him again, anything.  But he couldn't move.  Not with Harry's hand resting on his lower back, holding him close, kissing him with more passion than Draco had ever been kissed before.

When Harry pulled away, he looked at Malfoy who had quickly stepped back, trying to compose himself.  "I'm sorry," was all  the blond could said as he opened the classroom door and walked out into the corridor, leaving Harry behind.