Wicked

Thanks once again for reading, voting and the lovely reviews; yes, the cliffie was evil, the fluff in this chapter will hopefully make up for it! ;D

There were some concerns about Ron: I´d just like to say that I love Ron dearly because he´s such a loyal friend overall, but being thrown into a situation like this is not so easy to handle when you´re young and going through rough times.

Oh, and no cliffie this time! =)

Enjoy!



Hermione sat with her arms crossed at the breakfast table in the Great Hall, a stern expression on her face as she looked from Ron to Harry, who couldn´t but wonder what his bushy-haired friend would look like if she wore a tight bun and spectacles, for she uncannily resembled Professor McGonagall.

Neither Ron nor Harry had looked at each other when they had come down from their dorm this morning, and when Hermione had asked them what had happened, they had just shrugged and mumbled something unintelligible.

Hermione sighed: “Would either of you please tell me what´s wrong?” she said impatiently.

Harry immediately blushed and couldn´t keep himself from shooting a brief glance over to Finn Bailey, who seemed utterly determined not to look at anyone. Hermione had caught the brief motion, and from the look on Ron´s face, he had as well.

His expression resembled someone who had been appointed to deliver some tragic news: concerned and a little perplexed. He didn´t seem angry with Harry, rather... not-so-pleasantly surprised.

Hermione snorted when she didn´t get any answers; she knew how stubborn both Harry and Ron could be, as she had witnessed similar situations before, but at least she had known the cause back then.

She was about to get up and leave when Harry leaned forward a bit and spoke, avoiding eye-contact though: “Something happened. I... Finn...” he blushed anew, furiously so. He hadn´t gone back to sleep after the... incident, and was too tired to think; besides, he had already mulled the subject over dozens of times.

Fortunately, Ron hadn´t seen Draco, who had quickly jumped back into bed, but that didn´t make things less complicated.

Harry didn´t think he´d have a problem with admitting that he was in love with another boy; for several reasons he couldn´t tell Ron who that boy really was though, which bothered him greatly.

For one, no one was supposed to know about Finn´s true identity; the less people knew, the safer he was.

Secondly, Ron still thought of Draco as a slimy git, and this was what worried Harry the most: at one point in the future, hopefully, he would be able to tell his best friend about the person he loved, the one who had become such a different character that he was hardly recognizable as the loathsome boy he had once been; yet Ron was supposed to feel betrayed, wasn´t he?

He would probably feel like a fool, someone who was easily deceived and untrostworthy. Hermione was different, Harry was sure of that: she would remain calm, hear Harry out and finally realize that he hadn´t had another choice. Ron however was a different matter, and Harry hated the thought of hurting him. Or losing him.

He took a shaky breath and opened his mouth to speak, but Ron forestalled him: “I don´t mind if you´re... you´re... gay,” he said very quietly, not noticing how round Hermione´s eyes became and still not looking at Harry either but staring at the table in front of him, “but you could´ve told me. You know I wouldn´t have laughed at you, don´t you?”

Inwardly, Harry groaned: this was exactly what he had been dreading- Ron´s loyalty. He was a really good friend.

“I´m sorry,” Harry murmured. “I didn´t mean... I didn´t tell anyone, you know?”

Ron just shrugged.

While Harry was still struggling for words, Angelina Johnson came to sit down next to Ron: “Brilliant job at Keeping lately, Weasley,” she said briskly, “I think you´re living up to your family´s Quidditch reputation.”

Ron´s ears went red; with a murmured “thanks” he got up and strode away.

Angelina looked at Harry with raised eyebrows: “Did I say something wrong?”


“What happened?” Hermione asked once more while she and Harry were heading to class, unable to restrain herself, “why does Ron think- I mean, why are you-“

Harry, who knew that this was unavoidable anyway, and who felt he needed at least one ally, slowed down and pulled her aside into an alcove so they couldn´t be overheard: “Ron caught me sneaking out of Finn Bailey´s bed last night,” he breathed, feeling himself going red once more.

Hermione just stared at him with an unreadable expression, thus Harry quickly continued:“I think I like boys, okay? I just recently found out and there´s nothing I can do about it."

"Do you love him?" his friend finally asked. Harry nodded, running a hand through his hair: "Yes, I... I do. He´s a good person, and wemgph-“ Hermione had unexpectedly pulled him into a surprisingly bone-crushing hug.

After she had let go of him, Harry adjusted his glasses and looked at her in bewilderment: “Whatever was that for?”

Hermione looked positively teary now: “For your finding someone you love,” she said very quietly. “You deserve it. And I am so very happy for you... And him.” she added after a moment´s hesitation.

“But... but-“

“No buts, Harry,” she said, definitely sounding a little like McGonagall. Harry inwardly sighed once more; he couldn´t have been happier about Hermione´s reaction, yet she didn´t know just to what she had just given her blessings, did she?

Harry gave a shaky laugh at this: “You don´t even know him,” he said feebly, realizing that his knees were feeling like jelly.

Hermione looked as though she was about to retort something, but then remained silent for a moment before she laid her hand on his arm: “That´s true,” she said, “but I trust your opinion.” Harry could have kissed her; if only things were so easy with Ron as well!

He managed a smile and found that it was mirrored in his friend´s eyes, who was regarding him fondly, and suddenly all the long bottled-up happiness seemed to want out: “He makes me feel whole,” Harry heard himself gush, “he´s so tender and caring and... I miss him the minute we´re apart, you have no idea- whenever I wake up from a nightmare he´s there for me, and he makes me feel safe...” He broke off, blushing once more; he didn´t exactly feel embarassed at having bared his soul like this, but Hermione´s unfaltering smile unnerved him a little, even though he read nothing but understanding in her expression.

“Maybe this is what you should tell Ron,” she then said. Harry shrugged; he didn´t have the desire to tell Ron anything at the moment. Hermione rolled her eyes: “Can´t you see that he´s jealous?” she said softly.

“I don´t see how telling him this is going to change that,” Harry replied.

“It very likely isn´t,” Hermione reasoned, “but he´ll see that Finn is not going to replace him either.” Harry nodded hesitantly; she was right. As usual.

“Stop looking like it´s your birthday and Christmas together,” he grumbled to distract her. Hermione laughed: “But it is Christmas!” she chirped. “Well, almost.”

Harry couldn´t help the sinking feeling in his stomach when they finally hurried to class; he had completely forgotten about Christmas. It was only a few days away, and he had not paid it a single thought- where was he going to spend it, and what about Draco? He also realized that he hadn´t bought a single present yet.

Shaking his head, he wished he could go back to bed and hide beneath the covers, not feeling ready to face all these new problems at once.

Ron wouldn´t look at Harry all day; he seemed uncomfortable with it himself, yet neither of them made the first step towards reconciliation. Harry had intended to follow Hermione´s advice, but when he saw how Ron seemed to shrink away from him, anger flared inside Harry; it wasn´t him who had started it after all, he didn´t need to run after someone who behaved this irrational, did he?

After dinner, Finn caught up with Harry on their way back to the Gryffindor tower. He simply fell into pace with the dark-haired boy and waited; Hermione tactfully got a move on and joined Ginny and Parvati, who were walking in front of them.

Draco had watched the two friends and had already deduced that they currently weren´t on speaking terms, and from the way Harry´s shoulders hunched, he took it harder than Draco would have guessed. Harry didn´t say anything, but he inched closer to the other boy, appreciating his presence.

They spent the evening doing their homework together, hardly speaking; whereas Hermione joined them, trying her best to hide her approval of their relationship, but unable to stop herself beaming at them a few times, Ron was nowhere to be seen, and both of them were secretly glad about it. When people started to leave the common room in order to go to bed, Harry and Finn also packed away their things and got up; Harry remained silent and broody until they had reached the stairs.

Suddenly however he stopped and turned to look at the other boy: “You know what I´d really like to do right now?” he asked, his eyes blazing. Finn just watched him almost timidly, unsure what was coming next. He certainly hadn´t expected the mischievous grin that now spread on Harry´s face: “I want to go flying.”

Twenty minutes later found Harry and Finn trudging through the knee-high snow towards the Quidditch Pitch, huddled together underneath Harry´s Invisibility Cloak. “Do you really think this is such a good idea?” Draco asked in a low voice. “If Umbridge catches us-“

“She won´t,” Harry said fiercely. “She won´t even be able to see us, considering the snow.”

Right, Draco thought, peering up into the night-sky: thick, downy flakes were swirling all around them; the track they were making would soon be invisible again.

“Erm,” he tried again, “how are you going to see anything while in the air?” Draco couldn´t help asking, trying to sound casual.

Harry laughed, and there was something rebellious in his voice: “With a modified water-repelling charm,” he said lightly. “Courtesy of Hermione.”

“Oh. Well, then...” Draco looked at the Firebolt which Harry was carrying, and glanced up at the sky again; he´d see wether the broom was as good as people said, wouldn´t he? “Why did Gr- Hermione behave like that anyway?” he suddenly asked. “She was all but glowing.”

“I told her about you- I mean, Finn and me,” Harry admitted.

Draco looked at him questioningly: “Do elaborate?” “She´s one of my best friends,” the dark-haired wizard said, sounding a little defiantly, “and she understands, okay? She won´t tell anyone.”

“Okay,” Draco sought to appease him, “let´s hope Weasley will follow her example, then.”

Harry sighed and nodded, averting his eyes: “Yes,” he murmured quietly. “Let´s.”

When they had finally reached the Pitch and shed the Cloak, both Harry and Draco subconsciously looked upwards and around. “Some history we´ve got in this place,” Harry said, grinning. Draco nodded solemnly, his eyes still on the hoops of the far end. Harry now pointed his wand first at his own face, then at Draco´s, and muttered the repelling charm, then he mounted the Firebolt and looked at Draco expectantly: “Come on,” he said, “get on behind me.”

Draco hesitated only for a second. He had missed Quidditch as well, and the prospect of flying, flying on one broom with his lover at that, send a pleasant shiver of anticipation down his spine. He quickly mounted the broom behind Harry and wrapped his arms around the other´s midriff. “Ready?”

A moment later, Harry kicked off hard from the ground, stirring up clouds of snow, and then they were in the air.

The repelling charm held true to its purpose: the snow drifted apart in front of them, and even though he could hardly make out the goal hoops or the rest of the stadium, Harry urged his broom into a fast pace; the wind howled around their ears and the cold air burned in their lungs, yet they cheered with glee, drunken from the adrenaline as Harry went into a few steep dives before he circled the Pitch in a wide curve.

Despite the additional weight, the Firebolt was easily steerable, and Harry laughed with wild joy. Draco had long stopped trying to figure out how Harry could see where to go; he simply held on to him, enjoying the knowledge that it was Harry´s familiar body underneath the many layers of clothes, and trusted his boyfriend not to crash into anything.

When they finally landed, both their noses seemed frozen, and their hands were chilled despite their mittens. They hardly cared, though, for they were both too happy. Draco looked sideways at Harry, marvelling at the other´s gift to make the best out of things.

Harry, after swinging in his broom´s stirrups, turned towards Draco and looked at him, affection spreading on his face: “There you are,” he whispered. Only now did Draco realize that the Polyjuice had meanwhile worn off; he hadn´t noticed.

“I like how you look when you´ve got a red nose and snow in your hair,” Harry said huskily, cupping the blond´s cheek. Draco blushed, leaning into the touch for a moment: “You´re just sentimental, Potter” he murmured sheepishly, but the warm feeling in his stomach that had made itself known at Harry´s words told him how much he appreciated them.

By the time they had reached the castle and snuck in they were both shivering from the cold. Harry took out the Marauder´s Map and guided them towards the higher levels; at one point however, he stopped, thinking, and suddenly grinned: “I think I´ve got an idea,” he said. “I know the perfect place to get warm again.”

Draco looked around in wonderment once they had entered the Prefect´s bathroom on the fourth floor.

“How do you know about this place?” he asked, his eyes lingering on the picture of the mermaid. Harry shrugged, not particularly keen to talk about Cedric Diggory right now: “I used to come here to try and solve the Golden Egg´s riddle. You know, for... the second task of the tournament.”

Draco understood and didn´t ask further. Harry, who had opened the taps, now began to strip out of his wet and cold clothes, carefully laying them out on the warm stones underneath their feet, and Draco, after being momentarily distracted by the sight of Harry´s naked chest, followed his example, if a little hesitantly.

Despite the fact that Harry had seen him naked before and they were sleeping in one bed, he was still very self-conscious about his body, scarred as it was; it wasn´t until Harry, sensing Draco´s insecurity, stepped towards him stark naked, and snaked his arms around him, pulling him close until their bodies were pressing against each other: “I love you,” he murmured, pecking along Draco´s collarbone before nudging his cold nose against Draco´s, who pleasantly shuddered from the sensation of having Harry so close. They kissed, very tenderly, then Harry motioned towards the basin: “Let´s get in, shall we?”

The warm water burned when it touched their frozen limbs, but after the first almost painful moments, it felt simply wonderful. The boys stretched and splashed about, chasing each other and trying to push each other underwater, until they finally grew tired and simply lay in the pleasant water, cuddling against each other.

Draco sighed contentedly as Harry pulled him nearer so that he was resting against the dark-haired wizard´s chest, and could have purred when said wizard began running his free hand in circles over the blond´s chest.

“We´re lucky,” Harry said lightly, “that we haven´t got company.” “What?” Draco was momentarily startled out of his bliss, “I thought you locked the door?”

“I meant Moaning Myrtle,” Harry chuckled, his hand slowly wandering lower. “She´s quite a voyeur, mind you.” “Aah,” Draco relaxed against him once more and closed his eyes.”Did she check you out?”

“Definitely,” Harry replied, gently rubbing Draco´s belly now, “at least she tried.”

Draco chuckled, but didn´t delve into the subject any further; Harry´s hand was doing wonderful things to him, and he wanted to concentrate on that instead of a ghost.

Harry gingerly nibbled at Draco´s ear before placing tender kisses on his neck and further down, continuously pecking at the soft skin while his hand was wandering lower until it had found Draco´s member. He could feel the blond tense a little and continued to kiss him; at the same time he never stopped stroking the soft flesh, which felt even more velvety underwater, until Draco relaxed once more, arching against Harry with a soft mewl.

“Are you okay, baby?” Harry whispered into his ear.

Draco could feel Harry´s own erection against his back, but he felt so loved and safe that he didn´t mind. “Yes,” he replied, “don´t stop, please...”

He completely surrendered to his lover´s gentle ministrations; Merlin, it felt so good. Harry´s hand was gently massaging alternately his length and his balls, deliciously applying pressure and removing it again, leaving Draco with a crave for more, which immediately followed every time.

It wasn´t long until he could feel himself seize up and come into Harry´s hand, panting and almost sobbing from the pleasure; the thought was strangely attractive, and he didn´t feel a tad embarassed about it. He smiled when he felt Harry coming as well: butterfly movements and a gush of warmth against his back.

The other boy never let go of him, but tenderly teased his aftershocks out of him; he was occasionally shaking a little himself, riding out the remainders of his own climax, all the while holding Draco safe against his chest with his free arm.

It was very late when they finally returned to Gryffindor tower. To their suprise, Malcolm was waiting for them in the common room when they scrambled in through the portrait hole, looking miffed: “It´s nearly two in the morning, and I had no idea where you were. If you pull a stunt like this ever again, I´ll have to talk to Dumbledore about it,” was all he said before turning his back on them and heading towards the stairs.

Harry and Draco, even though the latter remained under the Invisibility Cloak in order to hide from the portraits, exchanged a guilty look: that evening had indeed been too good to be true so far, hadn´t it? At least it hadn´t been Umbridge who had caught them, Harry tried to tell himself, though it didn´t make things better: he had put them both into danger, and he suddenly was very aware of that.

Draco took his hand: “I´ll talk to him tomorrow,” he whispered. “Don´t worry. I don´t regret sneaking out and about with you."


Both boys were taking a long time to fall asleep nevertheless, partly due to the prospect of facing Ron and Malcolm, partly due to the fact that they were surrounded by the lingering scent of the bubble bath and kept replaying the pleasant memories this entailed in their minds.

Harry´s breathing eventually began to even out, and Draco gently reinforced his grip around the other boy: “I love you, too,” he murmured, and closed his eyes.



To Be Continued

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