When Living Ain\'t Easy

*gasp*

Alright, so maybe this one got finished faster than I expected. All for your good, right?

Mom\'s... recovering. With alot of help from that wonderful godsend called Vicodin. Meaning that she\'s much more pleasant to be around, less demanding, less bitchy, and sleeping 14 hours a day. And since it was *oral* surgery, hey, all the better -- she can\'t talk! WooHoo!! I love my mommy, but we don\'t like each other very much. Being an only child sure bites when a disagreeable parent needs 24-hour surveilance *eyeroll*

Now if she\'d only learn to share her painkillers... we might just get along better. NOT. Right then, on with the chapter.

~ * ~

Chapter Thirteen : Danger! Bored Blond Ahead!

Not everyone was born with a built-in radar for danger. Certainly a case could be made for Harry Potter having one, specific for Dark magic and Dark wizards. But when it came to him sensing a prank, Harry was a clueless as the next person.

Deep down he knew better than to allow himself to fall asleep without setting up his personal wards. And hadn\'t he, just an hour before, reminded himself to be very careful once his yearmate fully woke up? Of course there was that little scene in the study to distract him, followed by some shocking revelations and food and more revelations. Being completely honest with himself, Harry felt he could make a decent case of temporary stupidity.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he had to admit that Draco\'s sense of fashion really wasn\'t that bad. In a demented sort of way. He might even keep the earrings and tattoo. And his hair had never been this tame before, even if it was streaked with silver and gold glitter. Counting his blessings, Harry was glad that it wasn\'t green or orange or (Merlin forbid) flourescent pink.

Another burst of self-honesty forced him to concede that the Slytherin could\'ve been much nastier in his justifiable retaliation pranking. Not that Harry had been particularly viscious either, but still.

Twin fangs in gleaming silver pierced both earlobes, with drops of opals hanging from each tip in a fair imitation of venom. Not too shabby, Malfoy. Winding its way from his right collar bone to right wrist, a gorgeous cobra rested just under his skin. Its flared hood covered his entire upper arm and most of his shoulder, leaving the bulk of its body to curl tightly around the remaining surface of his right forearm. Of course, the Slytherin probably fudged on its coloration a bit, since Harry couldn\'t remember any species of cobra that was a varigated mix of purple, green and deep red. A bit flashy, but still he liked the overall effect.

As for his hair, Harry decided that he could live with it for the time being. After all, it wasn\'t flying all over the place like this. So it was sparkly and streaked, he could deal. All he needed to turn into a completely new person was to lose the glasses. Maybe Snape had a potion, or Lucius knew of a charm? Hell, he could probably visit an optometrist for contacts if it came down to that. If all went well, he might be able to talk his trio of Slytherins into a shopping frenzy too.

Satisfied with his new appearance and tentative plans, Harry left the bathroom in his melted-and-poured-into jeans with a snug emerald green t-shirt. He had remembered to slip into his trainers this time, and thankfully didn\'t need the ugly, crumbling belt he was used to wearing to hold up Dudley\'s tent-like pants. Blushing as he thought of his pants, and even more as to where they currently were (still in the bottom of his trunk)... There was just no way he could possibly wear his boxers under these jeans.

Immediately outside in the hallway, he found the culprit doubled over in laughter. Harry leaned against the wall and waited for his classmate to regain his composure. Or at least to look up. The Slytherin hadn\'t truly seen him since perpetrating his prank, and had no way of knowing what Harry\'s reactions would be. And seeing how the blond had found at least one male attractive, he might just be a decent measurement of how Harry\'s overall outfit looked.

Another round of giggles spewed from pale lips, and Harry ran out of patience. \"Hey Draco, would you take a deep breath and calm down a sec? I\'d like your opinion before the old folks join the party.\"

Wiping his eyes with the back of his hands, the blond took several deep gulps of air, braced himself on his knees, and glanced up at his victim through his bangs. His jaw dropped a few inches as he took in his rival\'s new appearance, and for several long moments his brain refused to function further than \'Pretty man. Want pretty.\' Eventually, sanity regained its hold and forced Draco to wipe the drool off his chin.

\"Y\'know Potter, you don\'t clean up half bad.\" And just wait til Father and Severus catch a glimpse! Mentally wringing his hands in wicked triumph, the Slytherin motioned Harry to turn around. \"Just to make sure you\'ve smoothed everything out.\"

Harry snickered but did as requested. Only after his arse was shaking in Malfoy\'s direction did he mention, \"I shouldn\'t have that problem. Left them in my trunk.\"

What is the sound of one jaw falling? Wonderful, glorious, delightful, and purely sensual victory. If he could have this much of a reaction from the younger, less experienced Slytherin... he might just stand a chance at shocking the older wizards. For some reason, that prospect appealled to him a great deal. His cheeks flamed as he remembered parts of his very vivid dream, and his subconscious happily provided two familiar faces for his unseen lovers.

\"Alright then, time to move along. Uh, Draco...\" Harry didn\'t know how to ask, stumbling across the point, \"how mad, or upset, or... whatever... were they. I mean, after I... left, and all...\"

\"Pul-lease Potter, do try to sound your age. Or at least your species.\" The blond threw his arm across Harry\'s shoulders, half dragging him toward the study. \"I shouldn\'t worry too much about Father and Severus. After all, they are responsible for your heath and education this summer. I suspect that means you are to survive, and probably not be cursed. No more than necessary, that is.\"

The evil gleam in those grey eyes almost had Gryffindor\'s Golden Boy running for the hills. He knew, way down i ght up in his never-ending cycle of worry that he almost missed his classmate\'s gasp of surprise. Or laughter, he couldn\'t tell which.

Training his eyes in the direction of the blond\'s gaze, he understood Draco\'s reaction. On a newly transfigured couch, tangled in one insufficient blanket, completely (enticingly) nude, lay Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy. Their arms and legs wrapped around each other so thoroughly that only the difference in skin tone decided which appendage belonged to which wizard. Their hair spread across a (green satin) pillow, intertwined in appealing contrast.

Flashes of dream/memory echoed through Harry\'s mind as he watched the older wizards sleep. His every instinct ordered him to rip off his clothes and join the pair, dive between their bodies and bury himself in the safety of their arms. Rational thought expressed a different command, rooting his feet in their spot and mentally drenching him in ice water. This was his dreaded Potions instructor, and the man who gave Ginny a cursed diary, who almost got her killed! Instinct argued that neither man was what he seemed, and wouldn\'t it be nice to dig out the truth about them?

Draco studied his classmate. Over the years, he had spent more than his fair share of energy in learning as much about the Boy Who Lived as was possible. He probably had more solid evidence than any Ministry file, more working knowledge than their respective teachers. The inner cogs and gears of Potter\'s mind were less clear to him, but Draco had a fair idea what this latest fuss was about.

Speaking softly in an attempt not to alert the older wizards, he nudged Harry\'s arm to get his full attention. \"Yes, we seem to have joined them at a bad time. Make up your mind -- we can go raid the kitchen, find a deck of cards, or do summer homework... or, you can walk into that room and take care of this morning\'s little problem. One way or another, you three will have to discuss the incident eventually. It\'s up to you as to when that happens.\"

The blond pulled Harry back out into the hall, shutting the door quietly behind them. \"Listen, Harry. You\'re fairly open-minded for being Muggle-raised, but you\'re going to have to deal with true wizarding culture this summer. And don\'t take offense, but spending time with the Weasleys won\'t give you a good grasp of what that means. There\'s a difference between having a magical household and observing the entire culture. You\'re going to get an eyefull, in more ways than one, before next term starts. Consider this your first step. You can walk in there and request their attention, discuss this morning\'s... conflict. Or you can put it off til they rejoin us, fully dressed and with their masks back in place. If you want my opinion, you\'d do better to catch them offguard, sets you in a higher bargaining position from the start.\"

Harry listened and heard what Draco meant, on several different levels. He wasn\'t sure he wanted to cross that line, and he felt uncomfortable in cheating on Ginny like that. But this feeling went beyond temptation, well past enthrallment, to what he imagined everyone else felt when under the Imperius curse. Sure, he could throw off the curse, but this compulsion felt different somehow. Like he should investigate more before making that decision.

Now he just needed to figure out if he wanted to make that decision before or after the two sexiest Slytherins he\'d ever seen woke and covered their gorgeous bodies with miles of robes. The mental voice of reason gave a great, shuddering sigh of defeat, muttered something about Ginny, and retreated. Harry\'s face flushed pink as he nudged his classmate\'s arm, then opened the study door and stepped inside.