Draco\'s Insignia

Draco’s Insignia~ Part two

Warnings and notes: This is a slash fic, which means that it involves two guys having strong feelings for one another (and sex). This is your only warning; so if you do not like reading about two men in love, then don’t read. Go read some other fic. Do not harass the author, please. And there is some strong language in here!

Dedicated to: Brandis, just because she wanted me to, and because she helped with some of the plot. ^_^

Special thanks goes to my lovely beta reader Brandy, for correcting any kind of errors that I have overlooked.

Contents: This fic will contain A LOT of Slash, humor, sap, and lemon. This fic is for entertainment purposes only. ^_^ You want a real plot, read my fic Protégé and its sequels.

Pairings: Draco/Harry

Rating: NC-17

Year: End of 6th

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of these characters! J.K. Rowlings is the wonderful person who does, and I wish her luck with her next book.

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Just as Harry sat down on his bed, the door to his bedroom slammed shut, making him jump. He buried his face in his hands, wishing for Malfoy to disappear.

“What the hell is your problem?” Draco demanded. “You’re not supposed to lose face in front of those no-good Muggles! What is the matter with you? Where’s your so-called Gryffindor nerve?”

“Sod off, Malfoy.” Harry said in his hands.

“No, I will not sod off! Those three need to be taught a lesson and I’m not going to just stand idly by while they treat you like garbage! You have to show them whose more superior around here! They need to give you respect!”

Harry removed his hands from his face, looking enraged. “Look, just fuck off, ok??”

Harry’s Draconis Mark glowed.

“There’s that nerve! Now go out there and say that to those Muggles! And, by the way, I am not fucking off until you see the truth.” Draco said.

“I know the truth.” Harry sneered. “As long as I do as they say, because it is their home, then everything works out fine.”

“Letting them walk all over you is fine?”

A bright reddish light glowed from Harry’s sleeve.

“I don’t let them walk all over me. I just don’t talk about Hogwarts or anything to do with magic around them. It brings peace.”

“I think they need a good thrashing.” Draco growled.

Suddenly Draco’s Mark glowed green.

“You don’t have to worry about them, because I think they’re more afraid of you than they are of me.”

“As they should be.” Draco sniffed. He finally noticed the glowing under Harry’s left sleeve. “Um, Potter? Pull up your sleeve.”

Harry cocked his head, “Why?”

“Well. . . look at it!” Draco gestured.

Harry looked over and saw the glow. He pulled up his sleeve, letting out the bright red and gold light. “Um, Draco? Why is my Mark glowing red?”

Draco looked over at his own Mark, “I’m not sure, but mine is glowing green and silver.” Draco looked back over at Harry’s dragon mark again, “Yours is supposed to be glowing green and silver too. Why is it red?”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know. You’re the one that made the mark!”

“Must be some weird side effect.” Draco mused. After he said this, their marks stopped glowing. “Your mark is originally green and silver though, but it glows red and gold. Must be some Gryffindor thing.”

“Because I’m in the Gryffindor House?”

“I don’t know for sure. It shouldn’t matter what House your in, that’s the weird thing. It must be something else.” Draco walked over to one of his suitcases and opened it up. He pulled out a small ball, took out his wand and whispered, “Engorgio.” The small ball grew, revealing itself to be some kind of crystal ball.

“Since when did you take up Divination?” Harry asked.

“Since never. This is how I’m communicating with my. . . contact.” Draco turned around and sat down at the desk by the bed. He sat himself up straight, placed his hands on top of the crystal ball, and then mumbled some words that Harry didn’t catch. The crystal ball glowed a light blue before it turned white. A person’s voice was heard through the glass ball, and it hummed while the person talked. Their voice also sounded muffled, like they were putting something over their mouth to cover up their voice.

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, what is wrong?”

“What makes you think there’s something wrong?” Draco drawled.

“Because that’s the only reason why you’re supposed to use the crystal ball—for emergencies, remember?”

“Yes, I remember. I guess it’s more like something weird is going on. I told you about um. . . the Mark that I was working on?”

There was a slight pause before the voice answered, “Yes, I remember.”

“Yes, well, I put it on Potter. . .”

“You did, did you?” Draco wasn’t sure if it was annoyance or amusement he heard in the person’s voice.

“Yes. . .” Draco said.

“Did he do it willingly?”

Draco gulped, “I’ll explain the details of that later, right now I need to tell you something about what happened with the mark.”

“Go on then.” The voice sounded irritated.

“Well, it had glowed when me and Potter were sort of arguing. I guess he wasn’t feeling his cheerful self, and his Mark began to glow red and gold. What does that mean?”

There was a long pause before the voice spoke. “I don’t know. You’re going to have to ask Dumbledore.”

“Shit.”

“Mr. Malfoy. . .” the voice warned.

“Sorry. So you’re sure you don’t know what it might be?”

“No. Unless it’s because he’s from Gryffindor.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Ok, ok, I guess I’ll have to go see Dumbledore right away when school begins.”

“Yes, you should.” The voice sounded amused.

“Don’t sound so pleased.” Draco scoffed.

The voice laughed before the crystal ball’s light faded out.

“Well that’s that, then.” Draco said, putting his crystal ball away.

“Who was that?” Harry asked.

“My contact.” Draco said. He pointed his wand at the ball and said, “Reducio.” It shrank back to a small size and then he put it back into his suitcase. “And that’s all you need to know, Potter.”

“Ok, I guess I’ll find out later. Right now I have a more pressing question for you.”

“Oh?” Draco turned around, giving Harry his usual eyebrow. “What is on the great Harry Potter’s mind?”

Harry snorted, “I want to know what the bloody hell happened between us.”

Draco continued to keep his eyebrow in place as he said, “What do you mean by that?”

Harry sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair, “I mean, what we did before breakfast. You know. . . that sexual thing we did.” Harry blushed.

Draco couldn’t help snickering, “That sexual thing, huh? You mean when we rubbed our erections together through our pants?” Harry nodded, blushing even redder. “My dear Harry, that was what one does when one is horny. I was in a particular predatorial mood and I badly wanted to share my desire with you.” Draco winked, “And you were perfect friction too.”

“So, it was just lust.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“For the most part, yes.” Draco grinned. “And from the way you were acting, I’d say that you really enjoyed it.”

Harry blushed.

“Besides, I needed you distracted so I could put my mark on you.”

“It figures.” Harry spat. “Bastard.”

“Oh come now, the Draconis Mark won’t hurt you.”

“No, but I might hurt you.” Harry glared. “So you better take it off real soon.”

Draco walked up to him and grabbed onto his chin with one hand, and said sarcastically, “Oh, what a handsome face you have!”

“ cha changing the subject.”

Draco snickered.

~*~

“Lunchtime.” Aunt Petunia called, reluctantly.

Draco was sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed, looking through a book that he had inherited called ‘History of Great Wizards and Witches that Died’ with some interest. The book needed a major upgrade, Draco thought. It needed his father in it . . . and his uncle, who died beside his father, trying to help him. Or so he heard.

“Oh look,” Draco drawled, “Your parents are in here, Potter.”

Harry was trying to fix his hair better, knowing that Uncle Vernon would comment on it if he didn’t. He turned sharply when he heard Malfoy’s words and then, curiosity got the better of him, so he walked over to look at the book with the blond. “Where?”

Draco pointed down at the bottom of page 169. “There. Mr. and Mrs. James Potter,” Draco read, “Died saving their son, Harry J. Potter and his wife Lily Potter from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. James Potter, who was known as the one of the greatest Chasers from Gryffindor and top student of Transfigurations, was 20 when he died. Lily Potter, maiden name Evans, was 19. Harry Potter was a year old.” Draco looked up at Harry and raised a brow, “I can never get away from you no matter what I do, can I?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Why are you reading that book in the first place?”

“It’s History, Potter. I like to brush up on my knowledge, you know. Plus, I was bored.”

“Well, it’s lunchtime now, and I’d hate to see my plate empty because I wasn’t down there on time. Dudley would eat it if I don’t show up.”

“Right.” Draco stood up and made his way to the door. “They better give you more food this time, or else I will just have to treat you out to eat, get you some real food.”

Harry followed him, smiling to himself.

~*~

When Harry and Draco arrived downstairs for lunch, the look on Dudley’s face was purely comical. His eyes were so wide with fright that Harry could have sworn that he was just told that there wasn't any more chocolate cake left in the world. Dudley looked scared, but Harry noticed that his body wasn’t trembling like it did when he first saw Hagrid, or when the Weasley’s came over that one year to pick him up. And then, Harry realized another thing.

He was staring at Draco Malfoy.

Draco, however, seemed to be ignoring the looks he was receiving and sat down at his usual spot at the table. He looked down at his bowl of soup and scowled. Harry sat down in the spot next to Draco and sighed. He knew that Draco wasn’t too pleased with what he saw in front of him, so he prepared for the worst to come from Draco’s mouth.

Draco looked up into Aunt Petunia’s face, scowl still firmly on his pale features, and he growled. “What the hell is this shit??”

Petunia looked very upset. “It’s chicken noodle soup.”

Draco picked up his soup spoon and dipped it into the broth. He lifted out some of the noodles and huffed. “You call *this* crap chicken noodle? No, wait, let me rephrase that. You call this crap soup??”

“There’s tuna sandwiches . . .” Harry pointed out.

“In which YOU didn’t make, right?” Draco said to Harry. He looked back over at Petunia. “Perhaps she’s trying to poison us? Maybe she is trying to get rid of us for good. . .”

Harry elbowed him. “Knock it off, Malfoy! They would never do that to me. Just behave yourself.”

Draco scoffed. “Behave myself? What about them??” He looked over at the three Muggles. His gaze fell on Dudley, who seemed to be staring at him intently. Draco’s glower strengthened. “And why are YOU always staring at me? You find me *that* repulsive, do you?”

Dudley’s cheeks tinted and he squeaked out a small ‘no’.

“Then what’s your problem, Muggle??” Draco sneered.

Harry’s cousin hid his face as he stared down at his own soup. Draco couldn’t understand what his problem was, but Harry suddenly had an idea of what it could be.

It was just like the way Ginny acted toward him. It was just like the way he had acted toward Cho Chang. It was also the way Ron sometimes acted toward Hermione. Harry suppressed a sickened groan, hoping dearly that he was wrong.

“There’s nothing wrong with my wife’s cooking!” Uncle Vernon finally spoke up. He must have been gathering up his courage to even talk to Draco. He knew that Draco wasn’t afraid to talk about being a wizard or anything to do with wizards, and he knew that he couldn’t stop Draco from doing it either.

Draco looked slowly over at Vernon with what Harry could tell was one of his best intimidating glares. The glare worked, and Vernon was suddenly shaking in his shoes. “Your wife could use a few lessons, Mr. Dursley. Perhaps Harry, here, could teach her a thing or two?” his eyes shifted over to Harry.

“Are you calling my wife’s cooking terrible?” Vernon huffed. His face was beginning to turn purple.

Harry looked back and forth, helplessly, at the two. He brought his gaze over to his aunt, who was looking so upset that she was almost in tears. Harry looked back down at the soup, noticing that he did get about as much as everyone else, and then took a mouthful.

He must have slurped his soup louder than he thought, or either that or it was his movements, but suddenly all three heads turned and watched him eat. Draco was waiting to see if he would keel over, Vernon and Petunia looked hopeful, and Dudley looked anxious about something. After tasting the chicken broth, Harry shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat. That was good enough for Dudley and he began to eat too.

“Potter?” Draco blinked. He continued to stare at his so-called new ally.

“It’s not bad.” Harry said. He looked up at Petunia and smiled slightly. “It’s actually quite good.” Then Harry took a bite of his sandwich.

“You’re sure?” Draco said. He peered down at his own food. “Your stomach isn’t queasy or anything, is it?”

Harry chuckled. “I’m fine. The soup is fine, the sandwich is fine. . . it’s all fine. Just eat.” And Harry did just that.

Draco peeked over at Petunia, who appeared to be relieved. They all started to eat then without another word.

As time slowly went by, Draco kept feeling eyes on him, and it wasn’t Harry that was doing the staring. Draco raised his head and just caught Dudley’s gaze. Dudley shied away every time Draco caught him staring. It was beginning to seriously annoy the blond and the next time he caught Dudley looking at him, he sneered.

“If you don’t stop your staring, I will upturn that bowl of soup over your fat head.” Draco said through his teeth.

Everyone suddenly stopped eating and looked over at Dudley. He was blushing furiously as he continued to eat.

“Are you accusing my Dudley-kins of staring at YOU?” Petunia said.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. “He has been staring at me the entire time I have been down here! If he doesn’t stop now, he will regret it.”

“Don’t you dare threaten my son!” Vernon said, puffing up in anger. “You are living u MY MY roof, in MY house, so you go by MY rules!”

“True. I am living under your roof, but I don’t have to go by YOUR rules!” Draco stood up and threw his spoon down on the table. Harry was trying to calm him down, but Draco acted as if the other wizard wasn’t even there. “I am not here by choice, you know! I do NOT have to live like a freaking Muggle if I don’t have to! And if he doesn’t cease his annoying staring, I WILL use my magic and turn him into something more hideous than he already is!”

“That would be a good trick.” Harry muttered under his breath.

“Now see here. . .” Uncle Vernon stopped mid-sentence and suddenly his eyes fell on Harry. “Boy, aren’t you his keeper or something? Get him under control at once! Do it, or you’ll both be out of here sooner than planned! And I mean it!”

Harry was torn between amusement and annoyance. It was rather fun watching Malfoy chewing out his Aunt and Uncle. Yet, he really did have a duty to keeping Draco under some control, and if he didn’t do something quick, it would turn very nasty and he might find himself kicked out before he previously wanted. It was true that he didn’t really care about being kicked out. He could just go over to the Weasley’s. But since Draco was with. . .

Harry sighed. He was stuck between a rock and a very hard place. He looked up at Draco and their eyes met. Draco’s stormy gray eyes were flashing with intense anger, and it was as if Draco was pleading with him to be on his side about this mess. Dudley did start it all, with the staring, but Dudley also didn’t know Draco that well, and he didn’t know that he would cause this uproar.

“Malfoy,” Harry begun. He sighed heavily again, looked down at his bowl of soup quickly, and then looked back up into Draco’s eyes. “Please calm down. I know that you’re not pleased with my cousin right now, but you must relax. If we get kicked out, we’ll have to go live with the Weasleys.”

That startled the blond wizard.

“Wha-what did you just say?” Draco stuttered.

“It’s the only other place that I could go. So, please settle down and eat the rest of your soup. . .”

“I am NOT eating the rest of this Muggle trash!” Draco shouted.

Petunia covered her face with her hands and broke down. Uncle Vernon wasn’t looking happy at all. He stared sternly at Harry, his eyes so dark that they were almost black, and his face was becoming so purple that there were blotches of white here and there.

“Upstairs. Now. Both of you.”

Harry looked up at Draco, who was looking ready to kill, and then peered over at Dudley, who was *still* staring at Draco. He sighed, set his spoon down, and got up from his seat.

“Come on, Malfoy. Let’s go.” He touched Draco’s arm.

Draco almost refused Harry’s offer, but then saw the look in his eyes. Draco sighed, decided that it wasn’t worth it after all, and nodded his head. He began to follow Harry upstairs, but then turned back around toward the kitchen door. Harry rolled his eyes, and then walked over to take Malfoy’s arm again. He wanted to just drag Draco back up the stairs. But before he could even touch Draco, the Slytherin had his wand out and pointed at Dudley.

Harry was about to shout, “No!” But it was too late. Draco enounced something under his breath, and then the three Muggles screamed in surprise.

Draco had a smug look on his face. Harry peered over Draco’s shoulder, preparing himself for the worst, but what he saw only made him crack a smile.

All three Dursley’s had their bowls of soup on their heads, noodles and broth dripping down their faces and neck. He just caught a glimpse of Petunia’s tear streaked face and Vernon’s bright red one before he grabbed onto Draco’s arm and started to pull him out.

“thatthat be a lesson to you . . .” Draco got out before Harry dragged him from the doorway.

~TBC~