It's Never Two-Sided
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
6,412
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
6,412
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Twelve Minutes in Heaven (and Hell)
Note: 11/26/07 -- next chapter will be up on December fourth. Sorry for the extended wait.
AN: Yay, the next chapter is *finally* up! ^_^
I hope you all are having a wonderful time during this holliday with family and friends... unlike me, who went through the after-effects of a vaccine yesterday and has not yet seen hide nor hair of *anyone* save her dad. And her cats. Blegh.
Well, that just means I have more time to write, yeah? Have fun reading! Oh, and this chapter is where you get to learn who got the Blak inheritance!! Yay!!!
So, I've decided, since I have so few reviews, I'll answer them here.
thrnbrooke: Here it is! Finally... *sweatdrop*
Agata Black: Thanks, that's awesome! I'm helping people learn English! What's your mother language?
Chapter Twelve: Twelve Minutes in Heaven (and Hell)
Halle slept in the next morning, barely getting up in time to roll out of bed (in her uniform from the day before), grab her books and run to class, which she miraculously made it to on time, where she spent a grueling hour with Snape, who did indeed find ways to both humiliate Halle and cause her to lose one hundred and fifteen points. By the time class was over, Halle was, for the first time in her life, ecstatic about going to History of Magic. Nap-time never sounded so sweet...
But just as she had laid her head on the desk for some much-needed peaceful time, Hermione walked into the room and decided to plunk her books, inkwell, and a rock on the desk next Halle.
“Where were you last night?” the bushy-haired girl asked, glaring.
“What's with the rock?”
“It's so I can bash you in the head without damaging any innocent books. Where. Were. You.”
“I went out for some time alone. Is that a crime now?”
“You did something with Ginny.”
“No.”
Hermione picked up the rock again. “Then why is she so upset?”
“Ginny's upset?”
“She came back slightly upset last night,” Ron replied, setting his stuff next to Hermione's. “And she was still upset at breakfast and said she needed to talk to you, but she wouldn't tell us what it was.”
“Something upset her?”
“I don't know what's going on, but she won't talk to us about it. We thought maybe it was something to do with you and her doing something last night.”
“I haven't seen or talked to Ginny since dinner yesterday!” Halle exclaimed. “I know even less than you do!”
“Well maybe you should have been at breakfast then,” Hermione said, dropping the rock on the desk again and taking her seat as class started. “She is your girlfriend, after all.”
“WHAT?!” Halle and Ron shouted together.
“Oh, please; I'm not blind!” Hermione hissed, taking out her notes and dating a new page.
“'Mione, we're not!” Halle hissed back. Hermione ignored her. “I mean it; I mean, yeah there was all that that happened on my birthday, but there's been nothing since then! Nothing!”
She gave Ron a pleading look, and he nodded in understanding. The three didn't speak to each other again, even as the class ended and they left.
~*~
The Girl-Who-Lived was ambling peacefully through the corridors, minding her own business during her free period before lunch, when she heard her name exclaimed from not too far away, and found herself shoved into a convenient closet.
“Halle!”
“Ginny!” The Girl-Who-Lived would recognized that voice anywhere; even in a pitch black janitorial closet.
“I've been looking all over for you!”
“I heard you were upset; what happened?”
“Halle—I need you to help me keep a secret.”
“Gin?” Halle managed to wriggle her wand and hand out of the younger girl's embrace, and cast a soft lighting charm.
“I-I mean it. It's like you with this guy with the scars—I need help, and I need it secret. Please.” Ginny's face was splotchy and slightly sticky from snot and tears that had also now seeped into Halle's robes.
“Sure, Gin; I'm your friend. I'll keep it,” the brunette said, moving her hands to hold Ginny as best she could. It was a little hard with Ginny's hands clutching her arms together, but she managed it.
“I—look, Halle, I don't want this to hurt you. I mean, it should be yours, but... Halle, please don't hate me. I only learned about it in a letter last night, and there's nothing I can do—”
“Why would I hate you?”
“You might.”
“Ginevra Molly Weasley, you've been a great friend, and I can't think of anything to make me hate you,” Halle soothed, rubbing the redhead's back.
“That's not my name,” Ginny sniffled into her shoulder.
“What do you mean? I've heard your mother use it on you countless times!”
“Well, I mean, it's not anymore.”
“Ginny—”
Ginny's brown eyes met Halle's green, stopping the taller girl short.
“It's Ginevra Molly Black,” Ginny corrected, pleading silently to not have hurt her... best friend.
Understanding dawned slowly upon Halle, who tightened her grip on the now completely red girl. “Ginny... I don't know... I mean—”
“It should be yours,” Ginny said, more tears making their way down her face. “He was all the family you had. It's not right.”
“But it's not bad. Ginny; there was no way I was going to get it. None at all. I'm glad it's going to someone I care about, someone who can use it.”
“But that's the thing; I don't know how to use it!”
“We'll ask Dum—”
“No! Don't you see, if I do that, I'm as good as signing my freedom away! If we let him in on this before I know what I'm doing, he'll find a way to control me!”
“He means the best—”
“And since when does that matter? 'Oh, I'm sorry Ginny, I meant only the best but since I'm not actually omnipotent I didn't see that one coming and you just may end up falling through a Veil—'” Ginny stopped suddenly as she realized what she'd just said. “Oh, Merlin, Halle; I didn't mean it that way!”
“I know,” Halle replied, voice tight. “I know.”
“It's just... you weren't the only one affected. That... I'm scared, Halle, and I need someone on my side. I need to be able to trust someone. Please.”
Halle nodded. “Alright. I'll see what I can do, but I know even less about this kind of thing than you do.”
“I need to go talk to the goblins and they'll do the ministry filing for us. There are also some rituals and such that I need to go through and they'll set those up, but I need your help to get all that done, without anyone knowing. And... I also need someone there. Sometimes as a witness, others... I just need you there, okay Halle, please?”
“Of course, Gin. I'll be there with you. And I'll find out a way to get us to Diagon Alley, without anyone knowing. It'll be alright.”
“Thank you, Halle.”
“Not a problem, Ginny.”
~*~
True to her word, Halle acted the same towards Malfoy as she always had. Well, she tried to stay away from physical fights—they were sixth-years now, after all, and Hermione was never too far away—but she pulled no (verbal) punches when it came to their arguments.
Which was why they were both now sitting in McGonagall's office, cooling their heels while sitting on a set of tartan green and red plush chairs with straight but soft backs. The professor herself was sitting in her own tartan chair behind a rather spartan desk. In fact, the only soft things in the room seemed to be the chairs and the carpet scratching post that Malfoy was staring so intently at.
“I do commend you both on the improvement you have made; last year you would have had your wands at each other's throats by the time I got there. That does not, however, excuse the language you two used nor does it hide the sheer animosity you two have. I suppose I cannot ask you to become friendly with each other, but I can and do require that you keep not only your mouths clean, but your magic in check.”
Malfoy's eyes shot over to the Tranfiguration Professor. “Our magic was out of line? Please, Professor, everyone knows that Malfoy's never lose control of their magic.”
Halle was about to agree (she did have a history of losing control) but Professor McGonagall got in first.
“Whatever propaganda you wish to spout, Mr. Malfoy, you must uphold. As it was, both your magical signatures permeated the air. I'm surprised one of the armors didn't come walking out to join in! Thank goodness for the wards in the hallway, or we would have had more than a few students sick from exposure; there were first years in that hall! What would you two have done if a stray flying quill had skewered one of them in the eye?!”
Both Halle and Malfoy just stared at her in shock. “Exposure?” Halle asked at the same time Malfoy said “Wards?”
“Yes. We have wards specifically set for the absorption of uncontrolled magic, which are there so that the at least eighty first-years we acquire every year don't end up hurting themselves and everyone else. The amount of magic a single Muggleborn eleven-year-old can exude when agitated is enough to cause dizziness in a magical adult; multiply that by sixty, and again by two, and you have the amount the wards are designed to hold. You two were about to break them.”
The two teenagers could only sit in shock. After a few minutes Malfoy found his voice.
“Are you sure it wasn't just Potter?”
“Yes,” McGonagall's voice hissed like a cat.
AN: Yay, the next chapter is *finally* up! ^_^
I hope you all are having a wonderful time during this holliday with family and friends... unlike me, who went through the after-effects of a vaccine yesterday and has not yet seen hide nor hair of *anyone* save her dad. And her cats. Blegh.
Well, that just means I have more time to write, yeah? Have fun reading! Oh, and this chapter is where you get to learn who got the Blak inheritance!! Yay!!!
So, I've decided, since I have so few reviews, I'll answer them here.
thrnbrooke: Here it is! Finally... *sweatdrop*
Agata Black: Thanks, that's awesome! I'm helping people learn English! What's your mother language?
Chapter Twelve: Twelve Minutes in Heaven (and Hell)
Halle slept in the next morning, barely getting up in time to roll out of bed (in her uniform from the day before), grab her books and run to class, which she miraculously made it to on time, where she spent a grueling hour with Snape, who did indeed find ways to both humiliate Halle and cause her to lose one hundred and fifteen points. By the time class was over, Halle was, for the first time in her life, ecstatic about going to History of Magic. Nap-time never sounded so sweet...
But just as she had laid her head on the desk for some much-needed peaceful time, Hermione walked into the room and decided to plunk her books, inkwell, and a rock on the desk next Halle.
“Where were you last night?” the bushy-haired girl asked, glaring.
“What's with the rock?”
“It's so I can bash you in the head without damaging any innocent books. Where. Were. You.”
“I went out for some time alone. Is that a crime now?”
“You did something with Ginny.”
“No.”
Hermione picked up the rock again. “Then why is she so upset?”
“Ginny's upset?”
“She came back slightly upset last night,” Ron replied, setting his stuff next to Hermione's. “And she was still upset at breakfast and said she needed to talk to you, but she wouldn't tell us what it was.”
“Something upset her?”
“I don't know what's going on, but she won't talk to us about it. We thought maybe it was something to do with you and her doing something last night.”
“I haven't seen or talked to Ginny since dinner yesterday!” Halle exclaimed. “I know even less than you do!”
“Well maybe you should have been at breakfast then,” Hermione said, dropping the rock on the desk again and taking her seat as class started. “She is your girlfriend, after all.”
“WHAT?!” Halle and Ron shouted together.
“Oh, please; I'm not blind!” Hermione hissed, taking out her notes and dating a new page.
“'Mione, we're not!” Halle hissed back. Hermione ignored her. “I mean it; I mean, yeah there was all that that happened on my birthday, but there's been nothing since then! Nothing!”
She gave Ron a pleading look, and he nodded in understanding. The three didn't speak to each other again, even as the class ended and they left.
~*~
The Girl-Who-Lived was ambling peacefully through the corridors, minding her own business during her free period before lunch, when she heard her name exclaimed from not too far away, and found herself shoved into a convenient closet.
“Halle!”
“Ginny!” The Girl-Who-Lived would recognized that voice anywhere; even in a pitch black janitorial closet.
“I've been looking all over for you!”
“I heard you were upset; what happened?”
“Halle—I need you to help me keep a secret.”
“Gin?” Halle managed to wriggle her wand and hand out of the younger girl's embrace, and cast a soft lighting charm.
“I-I mean it. It's like you with this guy with the scars—I need help, and I need it secret. Please.” Ginny's face was splotchy and slightly sticky from snot and tears that had also now seeped into Halle's robes.
“Sure, Gin; I'm your friend. I'll keep it,” the brunette said, moving her hands to hold Ginny as best she could. It was a little hard with Ginny's hands clutching her arms together, but she managed it.
“I—look, Halle, I don't want this to hurt you. I mean, it should be yours, but... Halle, please don't hate me. I only learned about it in a letter last night, and there's nothing I can do—”
“Why would I hate you?”
“You might.”
“Ginevra Molly Weasley, you've been a great friend, and I can't think of anything to make me hate you,” Halle soothed, rubbing the redhead's back.
“That's not my name,” Ginny sniffled into her shoulder.
“What do you mean? I've heard your mother use it on you countless times!”
“Well, I mean, it's not anymore.”
“Ginny—”
Ginny's brown eyes met Halle's green, stopping the taller girl short.
“It's Ginevra Molly Black,” Ginny corrected, pleading silently to not have hurt her... best friend.
Understanding dawned slowly upon Halle, who tightened her grip on the now completely red girl. “Ginny... I don't know... I mean—”
“It should be yours,” Ginny said, more tears making their way down her face. “He was all the family you had. It's not right.”
“But it's not bad. Ginny; there was no way I was going to get it. None at all. I'm glad it's going to someone I care about, someone who can use it.”
“But that's the thing; I don't know how to use it!”
“We'll ask Dum—”
“No! Don't you see, if I do that, I'm as good as signing my freedom away! If we let him in on this before I know what I'm doing, he'll find a way to control me!”
“He means the best—”
“And since when does that matter? 'Oh, I'm sorry Ginny, I meant only the best but since I'm not actually omnipotent I didn't see that one coming and you just may end up falling through a Veil—'” Ginny stopped suddenly as she realized what she'd just said. “Oh, Merlin, Halle; I didn't mean it that way!”
“I know,” Halle replied, voice tight. “I know.”
“It's just... you weren't the only one affected. That... I'm scared, Halle, and I need someone on my side. I need to be able to trust someone. Please.”
Halle nodded. “Alright. I'll see what I can do, but I know even less about this kind of thing than you do.”
“I need to go talk to the goblins and they'll do the ministry filing for us. There are also some rituals and such that I need to go through and they'll set those up, but I need your help to get all that done, without anyone knowing. And... I also need someone there. Sometimes as a witness, others... I just need you there, okay Halle, please?”
“Of course, Gin. I'll be there with you. And I'll find out a way to get us to Diagon Alley, without anyone knowing. It'll be alright.”
“Thank you, Halle.”
“Not a problem, Ginny.”
~*~
True to her word, Halle acted the same towards Malfoy as she always had. Well, she tried to stay away from physical fights—they were sixth-years now, after all, and Hermione was never too far away—but she pulled no (verbal) punches when it came to their arguments.
Which was why they were both now sitting in McGonagall's office, cooling their heels while sitting on a set of tartan green and red plush chairs with straight but soft backs. The professor herself was sitting in her own tartan chair behind a rather spartan desk. In fact, the only soft things in the room seemed to be the chairs and the carpet scratching post that Malfoy was staring so intently at.
“I do commend you both on the improvement you have made; last year you would have had your wands at each other's throats by the time I got there. That does not, however, excuse the language you two used nor does it hide the sheer animosity you two have. I suppose I cannot ask you to become friendly with each other, but I can and do require that you keep not only your mouths clean, but your magic in check.”
Malfoy's eyes shot over to the Tranfiguration Professor. “Our magic was out of line? Please, Professor, everyone knows that Malfoy's never lose control of their magic.”
Halle was about to agree (she did have a history of losing control) but Professor McGonagall got in first.
“Whatever propaganda you wish to spout, Mr. Malfoy, you must uphold. As it was, both your magical signatures permeated the air. I'm surprised one of the armors didn't come walking out to join in! Thank goodness for the wards in the hallway, or we would have had more than a few students sick from exposure; there were first years in that hall! What would you two have done if a stray flying quill had skewered one of them in the eye?!”
Both Halle and Malfoy just stared at her in shock. “Exposure?” Halle asked at the same time Malfoy said “Wards?”
“Yes. We have wards specifically set for the absorption of uncontrolled magic, which are there so that the at least eighty first-years we acquire every year don't end up hurting themselves and everyone else. The amount of magic a single Muggleborn eleven-year-old can exude when agitated is enough to cause dizziness in a magical adult; multiply that by sixty, and again by two, and you have the amount the wards are designed to hold. You two were about to break them.”
The two teenagers could only sit in shock. After a few minutes Malfoy found his voice.
“Are you sure it wasn't just Potter?”
“Yes,” McGonagall's voice hissed like a cat.