Hate Transforms

Draco headed back towards the Slytherin common room after leaving the Room of Requirement. His attempts to mend the second Vanishing cabinet were not going as well as he hoped. He was behind schedule and the Dark Lord was not pleased according to his Aunt Bellatrix’s floo call inside the Room of Requirement. There was nothing Draco could do that would expedite the repairs, unless Borgin’s instructions became more helpful and increased in frequency. But that was nearly impossible since mail coming into the castle was being checked so stringently. He would have to come up with another side plan in the mean time.

Draco thought about some possibilities when he realized the grounds outside were dark and the halls were empty. He had no idea how long he had been working on the cabinet or what time it was. Idly he wondered whether Slytherin managed to beat Gryffindor without him. He doubted it. He was the only one with any shot to beat Potter at catching the Snitch. He wished he could still play Quidditch. He hated that he had to give up the one thing he truly enjoyed at school, all because of this godforsaken task.

But he couldn’t afford any distractions or luxuries. His father was still in Azkaban and his mother had not been allowed to see him still. Draco had to complete his task to save his family, which trumped everything else. Though he and his father had never been close he was the only father Draco ever had. And they loved each other, even if it was only because of blood relation. But Draco definitely worried for his mother. They had been close when he was younger. She always watched out for him and his interests, as any mother should. He knew she had asked Snape to watch over him. He resented it, but knew she meant to protect him. As if Snape could protect him from becoming a murderer by the year’s end, or murdered by the Dark Lord if he failed.

Draco reached the first floor corridor and headed for the stairs to the dungeons when he heard footsteps behind him. The steps faltered then stopped, as if the person heard him walking then he heard the person mumble something. Draco was about to run for it when he heard from around a corner, “Too good for Quidditch now?”

Shit. Draco reminded himself to never wander the halls late at night alone ever again. It seemed he always found Potter when he did. And like usual, Potter was the last person he wanted to see, especially after he told Harry to stay away from him.

But he had to say that. How could he let Harry chase after him and be his first for everything, he couldn’t contaminate Harry like that.

Slowly Draco turned as he heard Harry approach. “How did you know it was me?” asked Draco suspiciously.

“Lucky guess,” replied Harry derisively.

“I thought I told you to stay away with me?” Draco added.

“As if I listen to prats like you,” answered Harry. “Besides, I wanted to know why you aren’t playing Quidditch this season. I rather enjoyed kicking your ass every game.” Harry glared at him through his round glasses. His green eyes were narrowed and analyzing Draco’s every move.

“Didn’t feel up to it.”

“Bullshit”

Draco barked a laugh. Then became serious again, “I quit the team to avoid drawing more attention to myself and the fact that my father is in Azkaban.”

Harry looked taken aback. “Is that really why?”

“Yes. You asked and I told you.”

“Well I wasn’t expecting the truth,” said Harry disbelievingly.

Silence stretched between them for a moment. Harry seemed to be internally debating something. Then his eyes settled on Draco’s as if he had made a decision.

“Why’d you push me away when I told you that you were the only person I had gone further than kissing with?” asked Harry quietly and obviously unsure of himself.

Draco wanted to tell him. Part of him remembered the blissful morning he spent watching the other boy sleep. The other part of him tried to remind him about all the reasons they wouldn’t work together. But before he could stop himself he began to explain.

“You deserve better than a son of a Death Eater. You were just taking too long to realize it.” Once he said it Harry immediately looked angry. Draco felt as empty as ever. He hated pushing the other boy away, but thought it necessary. He hadn’t planned on having anything left to care about at Hogwarts.

“Isn’t that a decision I should make for myself, Malfoy?” Harry asked menacingly.

“Why do you even care?!” shouted Malfoy. “You don’t –” he stopped as the soft patter of feet came down the hall. Both turned to see Mrs. Norris trotting towards them. Then quietly and getting louder was the wheezing of Filch hurrying to catch up.

Both boys stared at each other wide eyed. There was no way Draco could make it all the way to the stairs that led to the dungeons for he would have to pass the corridor Filch was currently speeding down.

Thinking quickly, Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him along in a sprint. They went up a flight of stairs and ran as fast as possible. They could hear Filch ask Mrs. Norris where they were as he climbed the stairs. Draco was panicking. He had already been caught twice in the halls after hours. Another time and he would surely draw unwanted attention to himself, especially since he was still a prefect.

Heart racing and breath heavy the two passed one of the tapestry covered short cuts. Draco skidded to a halt, nearly forcing Harry to fall backwards with the sudden loss of momentum.

“In here,” Draco whispered hurriedly, pulling Harry in behind him.

They slid behind the tapestry. Draco peered through the crack along the wall. Filch had just reached the top of the stairs, panting, and red with excitement of finding students breaking rules. He hobbled down the corridor, and Draco’s heart sank as he began to open every classroom and push back every tapestry.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Harry pull something out of his pocket. Then almost inaudibly Harry said, “Get under, quick.”

Draco looked back to see the dark haired boy had pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and was urging Draco to get underneath with him. Without thinking twice he practically launched himself under the cloak.

With the cloak securely in place Draco became aware of how close they were. Hot breath tickled along his chin and neck, it was quick and shallow. The other boy’s heart was racing and pushing hard against his chest as Draco leaned into him, trying to make them as small as possible against the wall in case Filch came in the small hallway. Draco looked over Harry’s shoulder at the wall, trying not to look at the other’s face. He could barely hear Filch approaching over the pounding in his ears.

When Filch was just beyond the tapestry Draco chanced a glance at Harry’s face. Green eyes were looking back at him, wide and worried. Simultaneously they held their breath, afraid their panting would give them away. That second Filch yanked the tapestry back and his saggy face leaned into the hall. Shrewd, maniacal eyes scanned for any sign of life. When he felt as if he examined the area fully he moved onto the classroom adjacent to them, muttering about how students would never be out late if they knew he’d be able to hang them from their toes.

Draco and Harry sighed with relief. Afraid Filch would come back the two remained still and silent. Draco took this time to reacquaint himself with the scent he had missed over the past few weeks. His nose moved up from Harry’s shoulder to neck, hovering just above the skin. Harry shivered each time Draco exhaled.

Draco thought he felt Harry raise his arm to touch his back, but the arm fell back to his side. But when Draco leaned in a bit to push off to move away from the other boy, Harry moaned just barely. Draco snapped his eyes up to catch the glimpse of desire that flashed across the other boy’s face. Before he knew it Harry grabbed his belt loops and pulled him back.

Filch could still be heard rummaging around in the classrooms down the hall, as Harry asked so quietly Draco strained to hear him though they were less than an inch apart, “What were you going to say downstairs? You were about to yell something at me.”

Draco’s mind had to play catch up as it struggled past the tickling on his lips to the actual words being spoken. “I was going to tell you that you don’t even know me, Potter.”

“Mm, I thought that might be what you were going to say,” replied Harry, whose eyes were watching Draco’s lips. “Well let’s remedy that. What’s your favorite color?”

Draco stifled a chuckle. Leave it to a Gryffindor to simplify knowing a person to knowing their favorite color. “Green,” he answered.

“How original,” teased Harry.

“Well what is yours?”

“Red” he replied reluctantly.

“Ah, so I’m not the only unoriginal person here,” Malfoy gloated quietly.

Harry seemed to try and ignore his comment because he asked the next question, “Who’s your favorite Quidditch team?”

“The Falmouth Falcons”

Harry smiled, obviously amused that Draco had picked such a notoriously violent team known for cheating. His lips remained curled and Draco was momentarily distracted by the slight pout of Harry’s full bottom lip.

“What about you, Potter?”

“Puddlemore United”

Draco nodded in acknowledgement. Filch had moved on to another floor and the corridor returned to silence. But the two boys remained hidden under the cloak in the side hallway. Draco was still pressing Harry into the stone wall, with both hands on the wall on either side of Harry’s waist.

“My turn to ask,” said Draco as he smirked. “What’s your favorite animal?”

“A stag,” answered Harry immediately.

Draco raised an eyebrow in question, “Why?”

“That’s the form my Patronus takes. You’ve seen it.”

Draco nodded, “Yeah, I remember,” as he tried not to remember how he had pretended to be a dementor along with Crabbe and Goyle during a Quidditch match making Harry cast his Patronus.

“Well?” prompted Harry.

“Same,” replied Draco, “I mean my favorite animal is the form of my Patronus, not a stag.”

Harry looked surprised. His mouth opened slowly then said, “You can cast a corporeal Patronus?”

The sound of shock in Harry’s voice should have infuriated Draco, but instead he smirked and said, “Yes Potter, other people can cast Patronuses as well.”

“I know that, I just didn’t realize that…” he trailed off as if realizing his line of thought was going down a slippery slope.

Before he could back out of what he was going to say, Draco finished for him, “that sons of Death Eaters had happy enough memories to cast one. Or that Death Eaters even cast Patronuses.”

“The latter one,” said Harry lamely.

Draco smiled. “My father didn’t teach me, my mother did. And last time I checked she wasn’t a Death Eater.”

A heavy silence fell between them. Then Harry leaned in ever so slightly away from the wall he was against. His nose brushed the tip of Draco’s nose. A flush crept up Draco’s neck as heat rose between the two bodies. The heat was stifling under the cloak as each boy’s breath quickened a little. But the cloak seemed to give a sense of security, and allowed each to remain relaxed despite their public location.

Draco gulped as Harry titled hid head and closed the small distance between their mouths. The soft warm lips Draco had dreamt about ghosted over his own. As their lips increased contact Draco could feel Harry slide one hand up to rest in the small of his back, pulling him flush to Harry’s body.

Draco groaned in protest as Harry pulled away. Heavily lidded eyes looked into Draco’s. Behind the lust was a wary concern.

“Are you a Death Eater?” asked Harry almost silently, as if speaking the words aloud would make them come true.

Holding the eye contact, Draco brushed Harry’s bangs from his forehead to reveal the scar, and answered truthfully, “No, I am not.”

Harry studied Draco’s face for a moment longer. What he found there must have convinced him that Draco was indeed telling the truth because he leaned in to continue from where they left off. Each moaned quietly as the kiss deepened…


A/N: yay two updates in one week! I’m on a roll. I hope you like it! Please keep reviewing… I love feedback.
Well hopefully Draco doesn’t do anything stupid to mess things up this time… we’ll see