Chapter 3:  Blackmail

Disclaimer: Nope, even as much as I want to, I don't own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy or any part of the Potter Universe. Warner Bros and JK Rowling do, the lucky gits. Don't sue.

Notes: Takes place year after Order of the Phoenix

Summary: Total rubbish. and H/D ::maniacal grin::

Ron had always suspected that one of his best friends was crazy, but he had always thought it was Hermione Granger. Someone who studied so hard must certainly have a few screws loose somewhere. So all this thing about Harry had come as quite a shock to him.

'Harry, you must be joking. Malfoy does yoga?'

The only reply he got was a fit of laughter and even more tears of mirth streaming down Harry's already laughter-reddened face.

'Oh well. Anyway I've got prefect duties to do. C'ya later buddy, and if you're not feeling well go to bed, ok?'

Harry nodded. Well, Ron thought he nodded, because Harry was right now rolling around the Gryffindor common room.

First Hermione, now Harry. Ron was feeling somewhat like a mother hen these days.


Mornings were not Harry's forte. He groaned as the stupid alarm sounded.

Slap. Slap. Ah, blissful silence. He closed his eyes.

And was furiously shaken awake by Hermione Granger.

'Hurry, Harry! We're going to be lake for breakfast!'

'Oh look. Alliteration.' Harry groaned and snuggled deeper into his blankets.

'…and after breakfast we've got Double Potions with the Slytherins!' Hermione was getting frantic he could tell. Wait a minute. Double Potions. Slytherins. Something clicked. He was not missing breakfast for the world.

'Coming!' he yelled, throwing aside his blankets and nearly knocking Hermione over in his excitement.

He made it down for breakfast in record time (much to the delight of Hermione) and began generously spreading porridge on his toast (much to the amusement of Ron). Nobody noticed, however, that he had taken a seat with a full view of the Slytherin Table.

He was duly rewarded when Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin, made his grand entrance. He was immediately claimed by a very enthusiastic Pansy Parkinson, who at the same time managed to block Harry's view of Malfoy. Harry was glad when they started on breakfast.

Malfoy gently extricated himself from Pansy's ministrations, causing a fold of his robe to reveal creamy white skin underneath. Harry drooled, which mistakenly caused Neville Longbottom to assume that porridge and toast tasted good (it didn't).

In the course of rescuing Neville from the after-effects of porridge and toast, as well as marmalade and ham (Neville was never one to do things by halves), Harry failed to notice that a small squabble had broken out at the Slytherin table.

Pansy Parkinson had attempted to feed Draco Malfoy a slice of ham. Bad mistake.

'Have you considered, Pansy, that I am a vegetarian?' Draco's crisp voice resounded around the Great Hall.

Hermione's face lit up in a huge grin.

'So that's how he get's that wonderful complexion!' she gushed.

Ron moodily wondered if he should also start becoming vegetarian.

Harry was confronted with the big problem of whether Draco Malfoy sucking him off constituted as 'not being vegetarian'.

And the rest of the Great Hall just wondered if they should all start feeding Draco Malfoy ham so that he would talk to them.


Draco Malfoy just hated being paired with Harry Potter for Double Potions. The-Boy-Who-Had-Luck didn't have any in Potions either. It was a wonder he didn't chop off one of his fingers or something. Watching Potter chopping mandrakes was decidedly painful.

'Potter. You look like you're blugering the thing to death. Watch me.'

Rolling his eyes, he proceeded to slice the mandrake with smooth strokes. 

'There. Do it right, Potter, or I'll hex you after class.'

Potter was looking at him as if he was a god. Correction: he was a God. Smirking, he turned back to stirring the cauldron, feeling Potter's eyes on him.

Fortunately, they got through potions without any serious mishap (unless, of course, you consider Neville Longbottom falling into his cauldron. All Crabbe's fault, really, but Neville had a record of fouling up in Potions a mile long). And after Potions, Potter had turned to him and said, 'Meet me at the Astronomy Tower after dinner'.

Did Potter think you could order Draco Malfoy around? Indignation welled up in his chest.

'Or else I'll tell everybody about you doing yoga.'


Author notes: Do review (begs you)  and if anyone would like to beta the following chapters, contact me at or AIM me at scentedrushes. Thank you so so so so much!