Title: Serpentine Infatuation

Author: Death of the Endless

Rating: R. Oh, and it’s slash. You heard me, right? If not: This story is SLASH!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Summary: The waves of corruption are lapping the shores of Hogwarts, and Draco has found something to do in his spare time. Or should I say, someone.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything, not the characters, not the setting. I would own the plot, except that there isn’t any.

Warning: Contains spoilers for every book, including Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.

Please, PLEASE read & review. Flames will be passed around friends and laughed at.

Pretentious Dedication: This story is for my darling abroad. Come back safe and soon, love.

Serpentine Infatuation

Dear egotist boy you've never really had to suffer any consequence
You've never stayed with anyone longer than ten minutes
You'd never understand anyone showing resistance
Dear popular boy I know you're used to getting everything so easily
A stranger to the concept of reciprocity
People honor boys like you in this society

-Alanis Morisette, Narcissus

Chapter one

Memories. They’re almost tangible, living things, existing irrespective of time, although they’re confined to the space inside a person’s head. They grow, evolve, fading into the background just to suddenly jump forward into the host’s line of vision. There’s the nice memories, the fond memories, which curls in your stomach and create a lovely warm glow. More often than not, though, it’s the horrible memories which change the storyline of your life, which runs the plot of the movie. A fading memory, believed to be no more than a scar, may suddenly erupt like a fresh wound, and the blood will seep into your line of vision.

Memories. Distorting reality and blending time. It brings perfectly reasonable people to their knees in a desperate effort to pave over memory lane as fast as possible.

Memories. Behind a door, deep in your mind, the unwanted memories are forming a line.

Memories want to be remembered.

”Get your hands off me, Blaise!”

The shrill voice cut through the happy chatter of the Halloween Ball like a knife. Silence fell like a thick blanket. You could have heard an ant sneeze in that kind of silence. Everyone was suddenly staring at the blushing boy currently praying for the earth to swallow him up. Blaise was the first to break the tension.

“Merlin, Potter! Just say no next time, instead of screaming your head off!” said the handsome black boy with a shark-like smile. People laughed a little and Harry forced a smile on his face at wand point. As soon as all the eyes had left him he all but ran from the room. That is to say, all but one pair of eyes, cold and grey and currently glittering of cruel amusement.

Harry stopped several floors away, out on a balcony. He leaned against the wall and took several deep gulps of the cold evening air. A few moments later he felt he could focus again and relaxed somewhat. He smiled shakily at himself and shook his head. Blaise was just being… Blaise. No big deal. Blaise had a tendency to, or rather a continuing habit of, shagging every good looking student above the age of fifteen. Male or female. Equal opportunity slut, as Ginny sourly had called him after a particularly embarrassing incident involving a crying Lavender and an emergency bottle of anti-pregnancy potion. A potion they had to ask Hermione to brew, by the way, since Professor Snape had been so upset with their request he reduced not only Lavender but everyone with her to tears. Harry strongly suspected there were a handful of students who wouldn’t have sex until after graduation.

A sound from the door made him jump and cursed himself for it. He was a Gryffindor, for crying out loud! When he saw who it was he immediately felt his hackles rise. Draco sneered and crossed his arms. How he managed to smile and sneer at the same time was beyond Harry. “What are you doing here, Malfoy?” He spat and hated himself for the shiver of fear that ran through him at the sight of those cold eyes. He hadn’t forgotten the incident on the train, where he had been helpless at the feet of his worst enemy. Although his nose was long healed he felt it twitch anxiously.

No need to be scared, he told himself. Draco cast a spell on him last time, otherwise he would have surely beaten him. Surely… Even though he seemed to have grown a lot over the summer. And he seemed to have worked out, too. Not that he was big, per say. More catlike, wiry even, or so he imagined him with his robes off…

Hold on! His mind backed away form the mental picture and covered its eyes.

“Blushing, Potter?” Draco said silkily and glided a bit closer so subtly that Harry didn’t notice. At Draco’s remark Harry’s cheeks went from a shy shade of pink to flaming red in seconds. “Don’t be stupid, Malfoy!” Harry snarled, and suddenly he realized Draco was a lot closer than before and took a step back. “Get away from me!” The sneer almost disappeared from Draco’s face as he smiled softly. “And what if I don’t… Harry?” He whispered and cheered inwardly at Harry’s bewildered expression. There was a certain… vulnerability in his eyes that made parts of Draco shiver in anticipation. He closed in on his prey with half-lidded eyes and touched Harry’s burning cheek lightly.

Harry gaped at the unprecedented closeness and shuddered when the cool fingertips created sensations that went straight to his stomach and further down… but as soon as he felt himself harden the familiar panic rose and he lifted his hands and gave Draco a violent shove. Draco staggered back but regained his posture quickly and leaned casually against the wall. He gave Harry a mocking laugh. “I knew it! The-Boy-Who-Lived is a queer! A skirt lifter!” He laughed harder, but his laughter stuck in his throat when his world exploded in pain. He fell to the floor holding his face, looking up at an enraged Harry Potter.

“You take that back, Malfoy!” He screamed and made a grab for the Slytherin’s throat. Unfortunately, Draco had spent the summer training hard under his father and he dodged him easily and tripped the surprised Gryffindor. After that it took only a small effort on his part to pin the other boy under him. “Get off me! I’m warning you!” Harry growled and bucked wildly, trying to shake Draco off. The younger Malfoy had lost his previous cool and snarled violently as he pinned the other boy’s hands over his head. “How dare you touch my face, you fucking pansy!” His eyes blazed ice cold rage down at the suddenly very, very frightened Gryffindor.

Draco used his other hand to grab Harry’s chin hard enough to leave bruises and he heard his victim whimper. “I’ll teach you…!” He hissed and pressed his lips hard on the other’s hard enough for them to chap slightly. The taste of blood only seemed to enflame him and he pushed his tongue inside the hot, wet mouth with insinuative thrusts. The savage kiss ended with a harsh bite on the already bleeding lips. “That’s what you’re afraid of, is it?” Draco whispered and caressed Harry’s aching cheek with mock tenderness. Harry was beyond shocked. His mind took a quick look at the information sent by his body, rewrote it in burning letters across the back of his eyelids and went and hid.

He kissed me! Help! Lips of Draco! Run! Run! His instincts supplied helpfully. A small, but growing bigger by the minute, part of him wanted something else entirely, but it was outnumbered by every other body part (led by the nose) which considered the heavy weight on top of him a huge threat. Part of which seemed to get bigger. The last piece of information seemed to reach them both at the same time and their eyes locked. Harry’s green eyes widened in embarrassment and fear and Draco’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he weighed his own growing weakness against the fun of tormenting the Boy-Who-Lived.

It couldn’t be helped. His weakness could by no circumstances reach his father.

He sneered down at his victim before he got up and brushed himself off. Harry jumped up as quickly as he could and backed away. “If you ever tell anyone I swear I’ll… I’ll…” He whispered dangerously and Draco sniggered. “You’ll do what? Snog me to death?” Harry hated himself for the blush that crept up his cheeks yet again. “I’ll kick your ass.” He vowed and Draco looked thoroughly unimpressed. “If you tell, I’ll tell.” Harry said, gritting his teeth together. “And then what will your father say?” He saw the barb hit home and almost felt a twinge of regret at the brief look of fear in the Slytherin’s eyes.

“At least I have someone who cares what I do.” Draco sneered cruelly. “All you’ve got are a lot of people who would gasp at the gossip about The-Boy-Who-Lived, and forget about it after five seconds.” He felt the hurtful remark hit home, and told himself he didn’t care. A few seconds ticked by and Harry didn’t answer. No clever retort about how alone and disliked Draco was. Draco suddenly felt obligated to fill the silence, but before he could say another word Harry ran inside. Although his face was hidden behind the untidy curtain of dark hair he could swear he saw a wet trail on a cheek…

A few days past while the two boys held their breath until they were sure the other hadn’t said anything. Of course, that wasn’t their biggest problem.

Harry’s dreams had become graphic and disturbing since the incident on the balcony. The other night he had dreamt that he was in the middle of a Potions lesson, Professor Snape droning on in a cold voice as usual, when he was suddenly aware of the fact that he was sitting in Draco’s lap. Nobody seemed to notice. In fact, when he looked over he saw Draco sitting in his own chair. But he knew it was Draco right behind him! He felt completely helpless, deadly afraid of what Snape would say if he saw. In his mind’s eye he could see Draco smile that evil smile of his and reach around his waist to stroke his thighs. Harry tried to keep a straight face and leant forward over the desk, trying to look more attentive. He could feel the other boy’s… thing… press against his ass, and he tried to quell the panic. In his dreams though, the fear tingled deliciously down his spine. He bit his lip and tried to concentrate on the lesson. All in vain, of course. He felt searching hands under his robes and paled. No! He wouldn’t… would he? The second he felt the insisting fingers on his hard member he woke up.

He’d spent the entire day trying to forget about that dream.

And right now he was sitting in the Potion classroom, blushing while trying to concentrate. He had been paired with Neville of all people, and he had to pay attention if he didn’t want to blow the whole class up.

Professor Snape stood by his desk, surveying his students’ attempts at making an anti-pregnancy potion. That had been Dumbledore’s idea, damn the man. He had heard about Lavender’s little accident, or more importantly, Snape’s reaction to it, and decided that everyone should know how to make a potion like that. He sneered at Longbottom’s clumsiness, which seemed to be rivaled by Potter’s. Just to be on the safe side, he decided that he had to see just how much they had botched it up already.

Harry stared at Neville. He had become even clumsier by his professors approach, if that was even possible. While Harry was quickly scooping up the chopped frog livers and throwing them into the cauldron he expected Neville to mix the second part of the potion correctly to keep pace with the rest of the ingredients. Timing was very important in the making of this particular potion. But as he glanced at his partner he happened to see something curious. Snape bore down on their table like a vampire bat and peered suspiciously down into the mixture. That was as it should be. That was normal. What wasn’t normal was the way Neville glanced up and dropped the beaker on purpose.

Harry gaped. He didn’t think anyone else had noticed. Things got smashed so often in Neville’s presence that nobody noticed anymore. Neville slowly sank to his knees by Snape’s feet and started to gather up the shards. Above him Snape sneered and told him how utterly clumsy and useless he was. As Harry stared dumbfounded at the scene he began to see some things. When had Snape’s voice become so passionate when he scolded Neville? When had Neville begun to smash things on purpose? When had Neville’s blushing cheeks begun to redden out of something other than embarrassment? When he looked around nobody seemed to pay attention. He blushed himself when suddenly he felt a piece of parchment against his fingers. He quickly hid the secret note before Snape saw it. Although he suspected nothing could divert Snape’s attention at the moment he rather wouldn’t risk detention. Especially if he got a sick kick out of torturing students.

Neville got detention for his clumsiness. Harry tried not to think about what that implied. With any luck, none of them knew the other one liked the attention. After the lesson he snuck off to the bathroom and unfolded the note.

Takes one to know one, pillow biter.

/D

Harry growled in rage and tore up the note. Fucking Malfoy! How dared he? As abruptly as the anger came, as sudden were the tears that spilled over his cheeks. He didn’t know why he cried, not really. Okay, so really he did know, deep down. It’s wasn’t as if he couldn’t remember. He just wouldn’t. As soon as he started to remember… certain things… his mind skidded away until all he could see was brief shadows, not even glimpses, and echoes of voices. He felt haunted by it all, especially since it left him with a sickly feeling of dread in his stomach.

And now this… thing… with Malfoy. It didn’t bear thinking about. The best way to deal with it, he decided, was to ignore him.

Decision made, he threw away the last pieces, which was mere specks of paper by now, and exited the toilet.

Draco Malfoy was currently sitting in the Slytherin common room, surrounded by his hang arounds and admirers. He looked bored and aloof, and people around him were very sensitive to his mood swings. He was known to have a hellish temper, but this was an early stage. Besides, no one could tell what he was thinking about. What occupied his thoughts was a dark haired Gryffindor with a hero complex and lovely green eyes, soft bitable lips and a firm ass. Draco crossed his legs and licked his lips absentmindedly, and Pansy blushed. He just knew said ass would be nice and tight…

He snapped back to reality and a flush crept up his pale cheeks. He had dreams too, as a matter of fact. The only difference was that he reveled in them. Unlike Potter, he felt no guilt whatsoever about lusting after another boy. It just wasn’t part of the wizarding culture. It was a matter of procreation, nothing else, and there were ways around even that. Male pregnancies, if nothing else, even if it was more risky. That didn’t matter, of course, since Draco had no intention of marrying Potter. What scared him was the fact that his father might find out that he was lusting after Harry Potter in particular. The-Boy-Who-Lived. Icon of goodness and cuteness in the wizarding world. The Dark Lord would not approve, and would definitely not honor him with the Dark mark if he knew. But the Dark Lord could read minds… Draco swallowed and tried to ignore the intense fear. He wasn’t going to meet the Dark Lord in a long time, anyway.

Potter wouldn’t dare say anything to anyone, he was sure of it. It was too embarrassing, and if he did, who would believe him?

Draco smiled in a way that made several of his Slytherin companions cringe with fear. Even Pansy’s tingling went away rather abruptly. She liked Draco, but sometimes he was a bit… too much. She knew she was a friend of the family, and so entitled to feel marginally safe in his presence, but still. It was hard keep the fear away, sometimes.

Suddenly Draco stood up and went for the door. “I’ll be back in a while.” He announced coolly. “I have matters to attend to.” Crabbe and Goyle knew by instinct when they weren’t supposed to follow and they stayed behind obediently. The rest of the Slytherins exchanged glances. Pansy was the one expressing what they were all thinking. “Sometimes he’s so much like his father it’s uncanny.”

Blaise nodded, and smirked. “I… think I’ll go too.” He said quietly and walked away gracefully. Every one of them, with the possible exception of Crabbe and Goyle, felt the immediate instinct to follow, but they refrained. Some people you just didn’t spy on, and two of them had just left the room.

Harry had just left the changing rooms, hair still wet form the shower. Practice had gone fine that afternoon. That was the best thing about being a Seeker. He didn’t have to have the rest of the team around to practice. He just had to let the little golden ball go and release a couple of bludgers to dodge. An hour later he was satisfied. He had caught the snitch four times, and been hit zero. After that he had taken a very cold shower, in the hopes it would make the dreams go away. He’d better get back inside. It was already dark outside and he didn’t fancy getting attacked by a hungry Dementor. Or catch them mate. He shuddered at the thought, and then jumped when he saw a figure walking towards him in the dusk.

He immediately tensed when he say it was Blaise. The dark boy smiled sheepishly. “Hi Harry! I saw you from the window, and I wanted to talk to you… about the ball. I want to apologize. That was completely uncalled for, and rude.” Harry was taken aback by the apology. A slytherin? Apologizing to him? ”Uh… it’s okay, I guess.” He mumbled and fumbled with his broomstick. “No, it’s not okay!” Blaise said earnestly and crossed his arms in front of him. “If you would, I’d like to… no, I guess you wouldn’t, forget it.”

Harry took a step forward. “No! What were you going to say?” Blaise looked honestly sorry.

“No, forget it.”

“Oh, come on! Say it!”

“Oh, alright. I was wondering if I could, you know, take you to dinner next Hogsmeade weekend. As a compensation.” Blaise said. He had a hard time keeping his honest smile from sliding into a full blown grin.

And there was that blush again, invading his face like barbarian hordes. “Um.” He said eloquently. Blaise gave him a smile full of sorrow and regret. “Don’t worry. I knew you wouldn’t. I blew my chances with you, didn’t I?” He said softly and melted parts of Harry’s defenses. “Um… I… uh…” He stuttered, and Blaise sighed inwardly. For Merlin’s sake! You’re so good with righteous speeches, Potter, now string a couple of words together for me. “Yes, please.” Go on, say it. Fucking him better be worth the trouble.

“Alright, Blaise, you’ve got it!” Harry said, suddenly making up his mind. He couldn’t go on jumping at shadows. Besides, if he wasn’t gay, he didn’t have to worry, right? This would be good for him. Blaise treated him to a dazzling smile as they returned to the castle. “Perfect!” He exclaimed. It hit people who talked to Blaise for more than a couple of minutes that he communicated via a range of different smiles. He could make a person feel like she was the only thing worth noticing in the entire world and he could make a first year wet himself using different smiles.

Blaise Zabini was the Swiss Army Knife of smiles.

AN: Alright, this was the first chapter! Read and review if you want another!