FORCED CONFESSIONS

Okay, DEFINITLY last part this time :D Prepare for another brawl, people. x3

PS. For any Mistletoe Trouble readers: Yes, I am continuing, there will be a ch8; but no, it won't be up soon. I got half the chapter written but the rest of my inspiration seems bottled up and safely locked away in Snape's cabinet, and I think the bunnies just got served for the Head's dinner. Sorry guys… Maybe I'll come up with a SBRL one-shot to make you happy. HPDM is the only thing flowing at the moment… (and I'm not talking waterfalls either.)

….

Last time on FC:

"I hate you, Potter. I hate you." The blond looked down coldly, not even thinking about the complete lack of resistance he had received. He then turned around and left the room, closing the door with a loud bang. While running – very un-Malfoy-ly – from the tower, he felt all emotion leaving him. By the time he had reached Slytherin territory, his mask of indifference and cold was firm and carefully placed on again. When he entered the common room, everyone fell silent. Not even Parkinson dared to approach him in his obviously pissed off state.

All the while, two thoughts ran through his head. One was his father's voice, reminding him all words were relative, most even lies and deceiving. The other said: I can never be indifferent to him.

…

PART 4: WHERE FAIRIES CAN'T ALWAYS FLY

"Ron…" Hermione looked up from the parchment she was scribbling her Transfiguration homework on. It was only due next week, but as always she wanted it finished in case 'anything strange or unexpected' might happen. Which was quite often, really.

"Ron!" she called out again. Ron was sitting a few metres farther in the common room, playing chess with Seamus – and winning, as usual.

"Ron!" Agitated about the complete lack of reaction she got, Hermione stood up, chair screeching. "Harry still isn't back yet! It's been ages since curfew!", she stressed. Ron barely glanced up from the board, his mind full set on his next move. If he moved his Knight to there, Seamus' Horse had no choice but move and he would get direct access to the King and Queen…

"Ron! Honestly, aren't you in the least bit worried?"

"Nope."

"Not even a bit?"

"Nope." Ron moved his piece, sending Seamus into a loud groan.

"You don't care?" Hermione sounded completely incredulous.

"Of course I care!" The redhead finally looked up, deciding his battle won. "I know where he is, don't worry 'Mione."

"Don't worry? He was moping around all evening! He might've thrown himself off the Tower!"

"Geez, okay, listen, what exactly have we learned from everything that happened?" Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but Ron didn't give her the chance. "He needs to sulk for a bit, wallow in self-pity. It works, you know." The redhead shrugged. "So I reckon that he went up to the Tower to sulk on his own there. 'Twas his date-place."

Hermione gaped like a fish on dry land. Ron and rational thinking, something was positively weird about this day…

About 15 minutes later Ron found himself halfway up to the Tower under an Invisibility Cloak, getting hissed at and kicked continually by one pissed Hermione Granger.

"I still don't see why we can't just leave him be for a night," Ron mumbled, receiving another kick. "Ouch! Bloody -"

"Ron! Watch your language!"

"- Hell! Hermione, stop acting like my mum!"

"Well if you mouth off -"

"This isn't about me but Ha-"

"Do not try to switch subjects -"

"Hermione!" Ron stopped, causing the bushy haired with behind him to slam into him. She had the decency to look somewhat ashamed when Ron made a shush-move, putting his finger against his lips. The rest of the trip went on almost soundlessly.

Arriving at the Tower some minutes later – all the stairs had helped them for some unknown reason – they saw a closed door. Ron made another shush-gesture and put his ear against the thick oak door.

No kissing sounds; moaning; groaning; yelping; the ripping of clothing or the ecstatic crying out of names was heard.

Deeming it safe, Ron placed his hand on the doorknob, looking at Hermione for confirmation. Either the Tower was empty, or the boys had put up a silencing charm and they were about to get the biggest shock (or show, as Hermione secretly thought) of their lives.

Nothing could have prepared them for the sight of the little pathetic heap of human, hiding under the name of one Harry Potter.

Hermione immediately rushed towards him, checking his pulse and looking relieved that he was, indeed, still alive. Not well, however, if the constant stream of tears and blood was any indication. Together, Ron and Hermione lifted the boy up and carried him all the way to the Hospital Ward, both too upset to even think of using a levitation charm.

In the meantime, Draco had retreated to 'his' rooms, guarding his dorm mates out with a few well-placed charms and spells on every possibly way in (and out). Staring into space, he sat on his bed. An hour before he had taken extreme pleasure in shredding his cushions, hangings and everything else on his bed into tiny little pieces. It had calmed him down somewhat, though not much, and he was now furious on himself for actually showing emotion. It was, after all, not the proper Malfoy-way to do so.

'Emotionsare for the weak.'

Hours had passed since his fight in the Tower, and while his adrenaline-level ran down, his previous numbness ceased. Noticing his shirt had several large bloodstains on them, he scowled. The blonde didn't even know who the blood was from, and truthfully, he didn't want to. The realisation of the fact that it was most likely a mix of his and Harry's made him sneer.

Something wet was dripping over his face all the while, not stopping. It tasted a bit coppery on his lips, and touching it, he saw it was indeed the expected red colour. Conjuring up a fancy mirror, he scowled and sneered some more, not even noticing doing it himself.

Potter was so not going to hear the end of this…

Looking into the mirror, Draco saw his nose was oddly crooked and producing the red liquids. The conclusion that his nose was apparently broken was taken quickly, and glaring at no one in particular he took off the charms on the exits, stalking out past some very relieved-to-sleep dorm mates. Ignoring their worried calls and questions, he took off to Madam Pomfrey for a quick and much needed fix-up.

When the Golden Trio finally arrived at the Hospital Ward, a tired looking Madam Pomfrey came stumbling their way, muttering about "noses", "boys" and "fighting again". Both Ron and Hermione looked at each other, shrugging. They were tired, as it was well past midnight by now, and were immensely glad to hand Harry over to Pomfrey. She bustled about a bit, levitating him on to a bed – Hermione frowned and slapped herself – and searched for some potions.

The bed next to Harry's had its hanging closed, and Hermione frowned again, suspecting its occupant.

"Here, take this, boy; and stop your snivelling, you've been through worse, haven't you? A few bruises and broken bones are healed easily – sit still, Harry – it's nothing to worry about," Pomfrey mothered. After a few minutes she turned around to the other two people in the room, who were looking a bit forlorn.

"Fight?" Ron nodded stupidly.

Pomfrey continued feeding Harry several interesting looking potions, closing the row with a sleeping draught. "I want him to stay overnight," she spoke, startling a half-sleeping Hermione.

"I, oh, uh, okay…"

"You can visit him tomorrow," Pomfrey smiled. "He should be out of here within 24 hours."

Nodding numbly, two-thirds of the Golden Trio took off towards Gryffindor Tower, ready to be overtaken by sleep.

In the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey smiled down on the neutral faced and now soundly sleeping Harry, before closing his hangings and checking up on her other serenely sleeping patient in the next bed. Muttering about "too enthusiastic teenage hormones", she retreated to her office to finally get some well-deserved sleep of her own.

Draco woke up the next morning from the bright early sunlight. He blinked sleepily, looking around. He frowned when he didn't recognize his surroundings immediately before realisation dawned on him, memories from the night before flooding back.

The white hangings; the small white steel bed, everything down to the pair of loose fitting white pyjamas he was wearing came down to only one end result: the Hospital Wing.

Pomfrey had made him stay overnight, concerned about "any internal bleeding", or so she'd said. Since he'd come knocking on the nurse's office door, Madam Pomfrey hadn't let him out of her hawks' sight, constantly feeding him one healing potion after another, finishing with a sleeping draught. While doing so, however, she wasn't quiet, she had given Draco quite the lecture on "fighting in the hallways again!"

Draco had just kept silent and didn't bother to correct her. It was none of her business anyway.

Shaking his head, he tried to sit up, feeling a bit dizzy doing so. Bringing his hand up to his nose, he was pleased to find it perfect and in one piece again. After a minute or so, the dizziness died away, and he tried flipping back the sheets and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. That resulted in yet another bout of sickness flooding him and black spots dancing merrily before his eyes.

Lying down again, he sighed. This wasn't working.

Trying again some time later, he finally succeeded in getting out of bed, this time without getting the extreme urge to throw up. (This despite the fact that his stomach was empty, not having eaten dinner the day before.) Shoving his feet roughly into a pair of – again – white slippers, he scurried away, almost falling flat on his face. You can say he was rather annoyed when he noticed his constricted use of limbs.

Really what did all yesterday's potions do? Weren't they supposed to heal him, rather then practically immobilise? Stupid medi-witch.

Draco walked through the room, checking on all the other beds, finding all but his to be empty. The last bed to check, the one directly next to his, had its hangings drawn shut, not even leaving a gap.

Of course, this only left Draco even the more curious.

He had a good idea about who it was, yes, but he needed to see it to believe it. Not that it was completely unbelievable that a heavily wounded Potter would wind up here, but with the boy's hero-complex and almost childish stubbornness and determination to do it all himself…

Ripping open the hangings, it was indeed a raven head that was revealed, said raven hair being the only thing still visible from what must be a boy snuggled deeply into the blankets.

The same bright morning light that had woken up Draco not an hour before, now worked its magic on shaking Harry awake, succeeding rapidly. The boy yawned, stretched, unknowing of a still watching Draco. Yawning again and blinking sleepily, Harry threw back the covers a bit and sat up, wincing at the fleeting stab of pain in his head.

It was only then that he noticed he had an audience. Harry blushed, smiling a bit.

"Like what you see, Malfoy? You seem engrossed, I'm really not that interesting."

Draco started, eyes flashing to Harry's face. Where they stayed, as they had been ordered.

They were not to go wander. They were to stay on the face, the safe spot.

…Or not…

The disobeying eyes travelled past the column of the darker boy's throat and lodged onto a collarbone.

"Am not," Malfoy mumbled distractedly.

"Are too."

"We're not going to have this conversation."

"You're drooling, Malfoy."

"Am not!"

Harry snickered, looking at the red in the face Draco, eyebrow raised. "I just love the way I can drive you insane."

Draco glared back. "Psh, as if. Don't bullshit me, four-eyes. You're not that powerful."

Yet.

Draco caught his eyes rapidly flitting between mirthful green eyes and tanned skin again, and he groaned. The potions, there must be some side effect of sorts in the potions, giving Potter this power over him. Yes, a potion was the one and only cause he was feeling and acting so weird, it had to be. Stupid meddling medi-witch.

"We'll see who can control the other at other times." Harry smirked lightly. Draco, catching the innuendo, grit his teeth.

"If there's ever going to be a top, it's going to be me."

"We'll see… Doubt it, though."

"Are you questioning my ability to make you scream, Potter?" Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Not that," Harry just grinned back, teasingly, "Just that those screams are more likely to be curses then from pleasure."

"As if you'd know."

"I'd like to try… Wanna go on a test ride?"

"You wish."

Nodding. "I do."

"You sick pervert!"

"No, you're so divine." Snort.

"Indeed, I am," Draco smirked.

Silence.

Draco shuffled around a bit, hopping from foot to foot. After a not so long time – though it did feel like one to both boys – he unceremoniously dropped down on the side of the bed. Harry was surprised, to say the least.

"Tired?"

"No."

"Geez, lighten up. Someone here isn't a morning person."

"And yes, that person would be me," Draco huffed, at which Harry rolled his eyes.

"Wanna join in under the covers? To sleep it off?"

"Nice try, Pothead, but my bed's next to yours."

"Then why aren't you sitting there then?"

"Because I am to lazy to walk over," Draco drawled, uninterestedly starting to examine his nails. "Why do you care?"

"I don't, really." Harry shrugged. "It's called making friendly conversation, nothing you're very familiar with, obviously."

"Narcissist. Like you're so fucking great."

"Talking 'bout yourself now, Malfoy? And I never said I was, everyone just assumed."

"Oh, is our precious little Golden Boy not as Golden as he seems?" The blonde smirked, raising an eyebrow. "You must be so depressed." He put a hand on his heart theatrically in mock-shock.

"Har har har. And so says our little emo-boy," Harry shot back.

"Watch who you're calling little, four-eyes," was snarled back. "Emo-boy? What's that, some stupid muggle phrase?"

"Muggle, yes; stupid, no; stupid you, yes."

Draco's eyes narrowed to slits at this, and he leaned forward towards Harry, bringing their faces centimetres close. "Are you suggesting that I'm stupid, Potter?"

Harry only blinked. "Why yes, what else?" Draco growled dangerously in answer. "Truth's harsh, face it."

"At the moment I'm facing you and your lies alone."

"Are you saying that I'm a liar, Malfoy?" More growling, now from Harry's side.

"Why yes, what else? Truth's harsh, face it, Potty." Draco smirked again, self-satisfied. The smug look on his face was soon wiped off however by the lashing out of Harry's fist, right against his jaw. Face constricting, Draco hit him back, throwing himself on top of Harry with his full weight to keep him down and intent on beating the living hell out of the raven-haired boy.

Harry gasped for breath, already sporting a bloody nose. "Eager, are we, Malfoy?" Another hit, this one directed to the side of his head. "I thought," Harry coughed, staring up at Draco, "you didn't fancy me?"

Both boys stared at each other, panting harshly and bleeding again.

"Do you really hate me, Mal- Draco. Draco?"

Silence.

"I did. Once." Draco looked away. Harry blinked up at him.

"Likewise, really."

"When did you… stop?"

"Last year."

"Yesterday."

Harry snorted in answer, chortling. Bringing his hands up he grabbed the other's face, turning it towards him again while smiling suggestively. "You wanted to top?" He received another blow to the head in answer.

"Ow!"

"You utter bastard!"

"Well, care to get off me then?"

"No!"

"Why the hell not!"

"Because I'm not yet done with beating the crap out of you, Potter!" With that Draco continued his pummelling of the boy pinned under him, delivering him a few more bruises and a bleeding lip to match with Harry's red-liquid-leaking nose. In defence Harry gave him quite the few bruises back, determined to draw as much blood as he could by hitting his hardest now.

What was first a small brawl steadily turned into an all-out fight without rules, both boys rolling around and over each other on the bed and staining the once white bed sheets with the red from their wounds. Neither knew what spots were made by which boy's blood, and neither did they care, only the pain they caused the other counted.

Soon, both boys were panting and breathless again, this time ending with Harry on top, straddling the furiously kicking blonde underneath him.

"Get off me!" Draco raged, thrashing around. "Get off me!"

Harry only smiled sweetly. "No can do."

"Why in the bloody hell not!" Draco tried to hit his capturer, but found both his wrists caught at a rather amazing speed.

"Shit Potter, freak, what is it with you and -"

"Bondage?" Harry offered, still smiling.

"Shit, yes! By Salazar, you fucking Gryffindor freak, bloody pervert, stupid berk, you twat, you -"

"Shh."

"- crazy arsehole, you - you - tit!"

Harry laughed, earning himself a patented Malfoy-glare – which was, sadly for Draco, not very dangerous looking, intimidating or powerful in his current position. "Tit?"

Abrupt silence from the Malfoy-heir.

"Good boy, being silent like I told you to," Harry chortled, lowering his head till he was next to the blonde's ear, whispering in it and making Draco shiver in disgust.

Yes, disgust, damn it!

"I'll never do what you tell me to do, Potty-seat. You're not my master."

"Oh no?"

"No."

"Got you pinned."

"So."

"You're at my mercy." Suggestive grinning followed the statement.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"You just did, Malfoy."

Silence once more.

"Out of witty things to say, Scarhead?"

"You thought them witty? I'm honoured, and that by the master of sarcasm himself. I'm so proud."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fool."

"They say love does such to people."

"Not lust?"

"That too, yes." The husky tone in the voice was not one to be easily missed and it made Draco shiver again. He stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes, not daring himself to move. Every move would mean one extra moment of touching Potter, one more moment of friction between their skin and their bodies. Realising this, his senses heightened, unconsciously concentrating on the thing he really oh-so-badly wanted to forget.

Ironically, the more he concentrated on forgetting Potter, the more he noticed just how close they actually were at the very moment, and in how a vulnerable position he really was. After all, he was lying on a bed, pinned by a stubborn lust-crazed Gryffindor that had seducing him as his ultimate goal. Not to be mentioned that said male was a good bit broader than him too, even though they were pretty much about the same height.

If said stubborn lust-crazed Gryffindor suddenly decided he wanted him, then and there, there was really nothing much that he could do about it…

Other then screaming "Rape!" at the top of his lungs and waiting for help of passers-by.

Draco gulped, turning a bit nervous. This was turning out not to be his day. He felt the soft breathing of Harry against his neck, the dark haired's fingers closed almost tenderly around his wrists and those legs around his hips, keeping him down, making it harder – no pun intended – for him to concentrate every second.

"Mmmfoy," Harry purred, dragging out the 'Mal'-part and partially replacing it by a throaty and seductive sound. Nuzzling Draco's neck, the teen continued his purring of the name, making the blonde shiver lightly at every vibration.

"Are you high?" he finally managed to gasp out.

"On you…"

"You're completely screwed -"

"You…"

"Would you stop this!"

"No…" Harry grinned lazily against the other's neck, briefly flicking out his tongue to lick the white skin, reducing its owner to a momentarily moaning state of mind with nerves on overload.

"W-would you -"

"Drraco…"

"W-woul-"

"Shh."

Later that morning, not even that much later, Hermione saw her chance to drag Ron out of bed and set off towards the Hospital Wing, this time without an Invisibility Cloak and a lot of sneaking around involved. It was right before breakfast – much to Ron's consternation – that the duo arrived at the Wing to visit Harry. Hermione – worried so much about the damage done the night before that she'd hardly slept – was anxious to see him; Ron, on the other hand, seemed more interested in getting to breakfast soon before the all cinnamon buns were gone and wanted to make the visit quick. Both in their own – still slightly sleepy – little world, they had no idea what was about to hit them in the head.

While walking to Harry's bed they saw that the hangings were opened on one side of the bed, the one closest to the – empty – bed of a certain Malfoy. Fearing the worst, Hermione rushed towards it, Ron following her meekly at a slower pace.

What they were confronted with was a half-naked couple draped casually over the bed, snogging the living daylights out of each other like there was never going to be a second time ever again. However, while mouths opened and closed and bodies writhed, no sound was heard. The two boys were completely in their own little bubble, it seemed.

After blinking a fair few times, twirling around and pinching herself, Hermione decided that the little show put up before her wasn't a part of some gone-wrong dream, but a new twist in reality. Pinching Ron to get him out of his lightly traumatised state, she sighed.

"Classic fairytale, isn't it? The 'thin line between love and hate' and such…"

Ron just snorted. "They're both fairies, all right."

A/N: Wha. Whahaha. MUWHAHAHA/insert lots of maniacal cackling and whooping here/ Finished! FINISHED/takes on a tough Rocky-pose, falls over backwards and dies/ I wonder if our two boys even noticed they were being watched… /giggles/

I hope you guys like(d) it, and insert all the classic thank-you's here! Aren't you GLAD this update came a hell of a lot faster? ;) (Well, faster… But being ill does makes for a good thing now and then. So does vacation. Writers-block on the last scene, however, does NOT. Sorry, I think that ending a story gives me Empty Nest Syndrome or something. D: oh noez!) At least it's longer then normal!

Well, what are you waiting for! REVIEW! /continues evil zombie cackling/

Oh, extra note: I'm busy on a small prequel, so add me to your watchlist if you're interested! I discovered I'd done the 'Ron helping Harry with a date'-before, and I'm now rewriting it to fit as a prequel to FC! Reviewing makes me write faster ;)