Beta: Spring Witch
A/N: I had this completed a long time ago, but I took it down to rewrite it and send it to a beta then lost it. So I rewrote it from memory. (I lost everything on my computer when I lost this. All my notes for all of my stories.) It won't be word for word or even scene for scene the same. I hope it will be better than the original as I have worked a lot on writing since then. This is supposed to be in British English, so please point out things that are American.
Harry watched Malfoy.
In the morning while he ate breakfast, during all their classes, on the map when unable to see him, and in the hallways when he was near. His friends knew this, because they saw it. What they worried about and could never be sure about was how far he would take it. Getting with Ginny made them back off, but Hermione gave him that questioning look again during dinner weeks ago. He needed to be less obvious. So when his friends were around he pretended Malfoy didn't exist.
If Malfoy ever spoke of what he did in the Room of Requirement to anyone, then Harry would have stopped weeks ago as his friends said he should. But hours of sitting on the hard, cold, stone floor in the Slytherin common room gained him nothing, except numb limbs and a strong dislike for philosophy and literature. He longed for gossip, but learned for the Slytherins gossip was only interesting, if the person they were gossiping about could hear what they were saying.
How could Malfoy hold a secret inside every second of every day? Malfoy who never shut up. Who always boasted about everything to everyone. Who, until recently, Harry would have sworn couldn't keep a secret if he life depended on it.
Apparently, when his life depended on it he could.
It was late. He had to return to Gryffindor tower, or he'd spend another night under his cloak hoping no one tripped over him before he woke up in the morning. Thankfully, Malfoy announced he was tired and headed towards his room. Bedrooms, bathrooms, and the toilets were off limits for obvious reasons, so Harry stood, stretched out his legs, and crept out of the dungeons. There had to be a way to get information out of Malfoy.
'I don't understand', Ginny said during breakfast the next morning, 'how they can't see that what they're doing is wrong?'
Hermione looked over her shoulder to the Slytherin table. 'They're eating breakfast?'
'I'm mean their side of the war.' Ginny's glare shifted from them to her and then down at her plate, as she stabbed at her food. 'Nothing good will come of it if they win.'
Hermione rolled her eyes. 'I'm sure they think the same thing about our side.'
Harry kept quiet as his friends continued to bicker. It seemed as though Hermione purposely took the opposite side to Ginny in every conversation. He and Ron tried to stay out of whatever they were arguing about, but sooner or later—
'You agree with me don't you, Harry?' Ginny asked for his support. He agreed with Hermione. If they believed their side winning would destroy the wizarding world, then they'd switch sides. Sure there was fear involved, but that didn't motivate every person who sided with Voldemort. And the ones that were motivated by fear did know what they were doing was wrong. So really, either way, Ginny was wrong in her assessment.
He smiled at her and she took that as a yes. Hermione didn't look at him.
'If they win, everyone will be enslaved ruled over by pure-bloods like the Malfoys or dead', Ginny said. 'All the dark creatures will be able to feed on anyone they chose.' That part was true. It was one of the major reasons they were fighting the war. It's just that—
'If they weren't being mistreated right now, they'd be less willing to support him.' Hermione was right and Harry understood her. Ginny and Ron and, well, most of their friends treated Hermione like an excited house-elf when it came to her campaigns. They supported her because they were her friends. Not because they believed it her causes.
'Vampires, Dementors, Sphinx?', Ginny said. 'They're being taken care of. They're dangerous.'
She didn't mention werewolves or giants, which were also siding with Voldemort hoping to be allowed better standing in the wizarding world.
Hermione slammed her book and excused herself to the library. Ron was quick to follow, leaving Harry with his angry girlfriend. The upside to this was with them gone and Ginny ranting, he could stare at the Slytherin table uninterrupted. She fumed about the war and how evil they all were, but she agreed with Ron and grudgingly with Hermione that he was obsessed with his Malfoy theory and he paid far too much attention to him.
How could they not see the two were connected? Ron and Hermione were with him when he watched Malfoy in Borgin and Burkes. He's told them about Malfoy's name disappearing off the map on the seventh floor. Malfoy was plotting or making something dangerous in there. Harry knew it. There wasn't proof yet. So he had to watch him to make sure he didn't miss a clue.
Ginny elbowed him when she realized he tuned her out and then left to catch up with Luna and Neville. She said it as though Neville was her secret lover and he should stop her from being near him, but Harry knew Neville would never do that to anybody. He left the Great Hall and pulled his cloak out of his bag then hid beneath it by the entrance waiting for his suspect to exit.
It was a good thing Harry lived under his invisibility cloak when he wasn't with his friends, or he would have missed this vital information. Malfoy was planning something with Parkinson. They were whispering about it as they left breakfast. Harry followed a breath behind them.
Malfoy never involved her in his plans for Voldemort before. It was Harry's chance to get the information he needed. Crabbe and Goyle were thick. Of course, Malfoy never told them anything. A simple potion in a cake and they'd blab everything without even thinking to inform Malfoy of it later. Parkinson was smart. She'd be helpful in whatever Malfoy's mission was.
The hall was loud and Harry only caught the tail of the conversation after they turn off to go up a staircase.
'West end of the dungeons', Malfoy said to Parkinson. 'Right after dinner.'
She took the small bag he held out for her with a look of disgust. 'Draco… are you positive—'
'I can't be until we try it.' Malfoy took a deep breath. 'Be there. I'm trusting you.'
But it was enough.
All Saturday he sat in the dungeons going through more of his father's indiscretions. If Snape hoped Harry would hate his father, the punishment failed. He knew his father wasn't who he thought he was growing up. No one is perfect. Snape freed him for dinner and then he went to meet Malfoy after.
It would be odd for him to bring his bag to dinner, so he was without his cloak but brought the map instead. Harry watched Malfoy on the map as he paced behind the door in front of him. He'd been outside it for the last twenty minutes hidden in the shadows waiting for something to happen. Parkinson never showed. Hoping that Malfoy would be cursing her aloud he stepped toward the door to hear anything about their plan, when the door opened and he came face to face with him.
Before Harry said a word, Malfoy grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the room with a short, 'Pansy, you're late.' Once Harry was inside, Malfoy released him, shut and then locked the door behind them. 'I thought you might not come.'
It must have been polyjuice in the bag he gave her. No wonder she backed out. It surprised him Malfoy was able to talk Crabbe and Goyle into becoming twelve year old girls, but Harry was right; Parkinson was smart. It wasn't worth the humiliation to be on Malfoy's good side. Perfect. She was supposed to be him. He could be himself and question Malfoy. It was better than he planned.
As Malfoy stepped closer examining Harry's stance, his furrowed brows smoothed as his jaw went slack and eyes widen in panic.
Harry said, 'I almost didn't,' before Malfoy had a chance to question it. 'I changed my mind at the last minute.' Harry shrugged. 'That's why I'm late.'
After Malfoy's panic subsided he glared, but then nodded. He accepted the lie and walked farther into the room. To their left sat a four-post bed, and at the back of the room was a fire place. A brown velvet couch sat in front of it and candles lit the mantle. The room smelled of Christmas: cinnamon, apples, pine, and peppermint.
Harry shifted his weight between his feet. What did they need a bed for? He expected a cold meeting room with a large table and map. Or maybe a vacant room where they practiced the Dark Arts. Either way, the warmth was out of place.
'You didn't look in any mirrors on your way here, did you?'
'No', Harry said. 'Why would I?'
'You've always been too curious for your own good.'
Curious? This was bad. There was no being himself and pretending she was an amazing actress. He had to be her in his body and pretend to be clueless as to who he was. He suppressed an eye roll and then decided it was something she'd do and tried to make it look natural. Her natural stance was defensive whenever she saw Harry. But when he was out of sight she draped herself over Malfoy.
Maybe the bed was for after she transformed back. His stomach dropped at the thought. How would he get out of there?
Malfoy circled him as though he was looking for a piece of lint hidden in the creases of his robes, which added to Harry's unease about the situation. Harry was a terrible liar. He held tight to his wand and his breath. What was he looking for? A flaw in the potion? It wouldn't affect his clothes. Malfoy stopped once he stood in front of Harry again.
'How long ago did you take the potion?' Malfoy's eyes widened as he thought through all the possibilities. 'You didn't take in the dorm, did you?'
'What? No!' Did he think that little of her intelligence? Everyone would have noticed if Harry Potter strutted out of the Slytherin common room. They might have captured her and taken her to Voldemort or tortured her. It would at least tip someone off that they were up to something.
'Just now then? Out in the hall?'
If he could have smacked himself without giving himself a way, he would have. Parkinson would have waited until she met up with Malfoy, before she transformed. Glad that Malfoy gave him a story and he had no need to think of one himself, he rolled his eyes and said, 'Of course.'
Malfoy exhaled, gestured toward the couch and said, 'Why don't we sit down?' He followed close behind Harry and sat next him. They were close enough their thighs brushed against each other.
'Alright?' Malfoy looked down at his hands rubbed his thumb across his finger nails. They seemed shiner afterwards as though he was polishing them.
'Alright.' Harry chewed his bottom lip and thought about how he could get him to spill his plan. In the past, Malfoy always gave everything away on his own, so Harry decided to play along and wait. He would brag about something and then Harry could lean the conversation where he wanted it.
'Before anything happens,' Malfoy said. 'I wanted to thank you for doing this for me. I know how weird this has to be for you.'
That was understatement. Harry couldn't imagine how strange it would be for him to be in a girl's body. The idea of being in a boy's body was strange enough Parkinson backed out.
'Just relax; you don't have to do anything. Just sit there.'
Malfoy cupped Harry's face in his left hand then dragged his thumb across his cheek, as he inched closer to him. No one had ever touched his face like that before. Even when snogging Ginny— Every muscle in Harry's face clenched and then Malfoy's thumb brushed across his lips. From the left to the right then on the bottom lip, where Harry had chewed it earlier, and back again. He repeated the motion, until Harry unclenched his jaw. Malfoy was going to kiss him.
He pulled his arms up and across his chest in effort to have something in between them. Then Malfoy leaned in and replaced his thumb with his lips. Harry made an involuntary squeak in the back of his throat. There was no time to decide on what to do. A shock ran through him when Malfoy licked his bottom lip; and when Harry's mouth opened, he introduced their tongues against Harry's will. He meant it when he said that all Harry had to do was sit there, because he was unfazed by his lack of involvement.
Harry pulled away to swallow and prepare himself. He knew Parkinson would never sit unmoving whilst Malfoy kissed her. He had to kiss back, so he forced himself to move his mouth in coordination with Malfoy's when he continued. Once they had a steady rhythm, he relaxed. It was fine. With his eyes closed it could be anybody. And Malfoy was good with his tongue. What was in this for him?
Parkinson pretending to be Harry and gain information from Dumbledore for Voldemort made sense. Meeting Malfoy to plan such an invent made sense. This didn't. Malfoy couldn't want this.
Harry relaxed and untangled his arms, then he pushed Malfoy back to get into a more comfortable position. Malfoy accepted the position change, but broke the kiss for air before he laid flat beneath Harry. That wasn't the plan. He needed feeling in his arms and air to think. Yet, there was something about Malfoy laying helpless beneath him that he liked. Not that he ever felt threatened by him, or that he ever saw Malfoy as anything but weak. But that he was willing. He was giving up control to Harry. Trusting him. Well, trusting Parkinson. Which Harry considered a more risky venture than trusting himself.
More important was the look on Malfoy's face that said he wanted this.
Malfoy pulled on Harry's shirt urging him forward and Harry lowered himself enough to settle his hips and returned to kissing. They were quickly caught up, until Harry had to pull back for air. He was light-headed after he finished his first intake of air, and before he had the chance to take a second breath Malfoy attacked his mouth again. He pulled Harry tighter to him. When he caught another breath, it made him dizzier instead of steadier. He forgot how to breathe. Malfoy bit his way to and down Harry's neck. Harry retaliated by pressing his erection against Malfoy's.
Which brought it to his attention and he froze. He allowed himself to feel weird about it. Parkinson would.
'It's okay', Malfoy said and brushed the tip of his nose against Harry's. 'It's normal.'
Of course it wasn't normal. Harry bit him harder, which caused Malfoy to groan and press harder against him. Then he brought their mouths back together. They both moved against each other with as much force as possible. To stop himself from coming Harry pulled back and tried to break the kiss, but Malfoy followed him unwilling to let him go.
A second later Malfoy broke the kiss allowing Harry to breath and pressed his forehead against Harry's shoulder. But also shifted his hips back up to meet Harry's and came. Unable stop himself after that, Harry joined him. His body relaxed and he let himself rest on top of Malfoy. Steady breathing giving his brain the oxygen it needed, but his thoughts were still incoherent. It wasn't normal. Girls didn't become boys to mess around with the bloke they'd fancied for years. And pure-blooded wizards didn't want to snog half-blood orphans they made fun of every day.
Especially, not ten days after that particular half-blood orphan used Sectumsempra on the pure-blood wizard which almost killed him.
After a beat Malfoy said, 'Well.'
'Yeah', Harry said.
'Are you okay?'
'Yeah.' He would be fine. After a few more deep breaths, he might be able to move again. Then remember that Parkinson would not be as used to laying spunk as he was. 'Eww.'
Malfoy snorted found his wand and with a flick of his wrist Harry was clean again.
'Thanks.' He needed to learn that spell.
'So?' Malfoy let his arms fall loose around Harry.
'That pretty much confirms it for me', Malfoy said. 'I'm bent.'
Harry pushed himself up. 'Right.' That was what they were doing. Parkinson turned into a boy to try it out with him. That made sense. Except for the part that Malfoy chose Harry out of every one else he could have chosen.
'I'm sorry.' Malfoy pulled himself up and curled his right leg underneath his left so he could face Harry.
'It's okay.' Parkinson was his friend; therefore she would understand the situation. Or maybe not. She had stood him up. Maybe she'd cry.
Malfoy starred at the space in front of him.
Harry elbowed him lightly. 'I knew that was a possibility before I came here, right?'
He jolted when Harry spoke, and then looked up at him as though he was surprised by his presence. 'Right.' Malfoy nodded and sat up straighter. 'Would you mind continuing this?'
'Yes', Harry said, before he thought it through and then blushed. He had to continue it, because he knew less about what Malfoy was up to than before the encounter started. He needed to get Malfoy to talk. Though it wasn't the ideal way, it would still work. How much snogging could they do before getting bored? They'd talk. Eventually.
Malfoy smirked and relaxed against the couch. 'Tomorrow? Same time and place?'
Harry nodded and wondered how long they'd been there. The potion lasted an hour and Malfoy would notice if he stayed himself longer than he should.
'I should get going', Harry said as he stood. He was out the door before Malfoy had a chance to protest.