The Imperfect Ser Series

Series Title: Imperfect Love
Title of Part One: Exploration and Discovery.
Rating: Eventual NC17
Summary: Harry is lonely, and Draco is there.
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise.
Email: Queries@fanfiction-by-devon.com

A/N: I have received a few emails from confused people, so I’ll clarify: This is a three part series and each part will be around fifteen chapters long, which means that in total this story will be at least thirty five chapters in length. I hope that cleared it up. Please also bear in mind that because this is an epic tale, they won\'t be falling in love and shagging like bunnies right around the third chapter. I\'m not rushing things. Thank you to every one who emailed me and those two or three people who actually left a review. Please, please review: It’s what keeps me motivated.


Chapter Two -

Harry turned the page dispassionately, staring blankly at the text and moving images. What was he doing, reading Advanced Transfigurations in the middle of his summer holiday? The answer to that was simple, though.

‘I’m bored,’ Harry had said.

‘Here, read this,’ Hermione had replied.

And so Harry did. He had no idea why, though. Was it possible to become so completely bored that he could morph into a Hermione clone, reading any book that came his way? Judging by his lack of enthusiasm, he guessed not. At this moment, Harry found himself feeling strangely envious of Hermione’s ability to lose hours absorbed in a book. He would have read one of his Quidditch books again, but he had gone cover to cover through them so many times, they had lost their appeal. Maybe he should contact the authors. Dear Sir, Please write another Quidditch book. Thank you. Yours sincerely, The Boy Who Died Of Boredom

Perhaps not, thought Harry. There was absolutely nothing else to do, though. Exploring the castle was pointless, as everything he needed to know was on the Marauders Map. He couldn’t play Quidditch because he was yet to be allowed out of the castle without a guardian. He had no homework that needed to be done, although he wasn’t onedreddred percent sure he was bored enough for that, even if he did have some. A game of chess was also out, as Ron was MIA. So was Hermione, for that matter. Harry suspected that going up to Ron’s and his dorm room wouldn’t be a good idea right now.

He dropped the book onto the floor with a sigh and leaned back in the armchair, gazing around at the depressingly empty common room.

‘We’re staying as well, mate,’ Ron had said. ‘To keep you company.’

Harry snorted. Keeping him company. Yeah, right. He’d been here three days so far, and they’d spent most of it taking advantage of the empty dorms. The thought of Ron and Hermione, in bed, like that … Harry shuddered. He would never have thought that Hermione was the type of person to engage in such activities. Boy, was he wrong.

He knew they weren’t intentionally trying to make him feel lonely. They had finally gotten together while the war was still raging, so they had never put their relationship first, and rarely got any alone time. Now, with the relative peace that followed the destruction of Voldemort, and the prospect of a whole month spent in an almost-empty castle, it was hardly surprising that they were taking advantage of it.

But still, Harry felt horribly like the third wheel. If only he could go out, perhaps for a walk around the lake, or take a few laps on his broom. According to Dumbledore, when the castle was empty, the defences were at their weakest. Harry didn’t understand this, but he didn’t push the matter. He knew that the order to stay inside was for his own protection, as Death Eaters were still abound and probably looking for revenge, but it still grated on his nerves. Voldemort was dead, and that was supposed to be the end of it. But here he was, with everybody sugar-coating the fact that he was prisoner.

On the other hand, he’d rather be here than at Privet Drive. He was of age now, and the protection spell that worked through Aunt Petunia’s blood was only in regards to Voldemort, so Harry had no need to return there ever again. That thought was strange, and a little overwhelming. He would never see his only remaining reves ves again. He supposed he should feel some sadness about that, but couldn’t quite find it in him.

Staying at the Burrow was also out. He still had a death threat hanging over his head, and he didn’t want to put the Weasleys in any unnecessary danger. And, of course, he didn’t think he’d ever be ready to go back to Grimmauld Place.

So here he was, in Hogwarts, safe and sound and in immediate danger of killing himself if he couldn’t find something to do. Perhaps he could go and visit Hedwig … or Dobby … Dobby! At least he could have a conversation with the House Elf and, as an added bonus, have his ego inflated.

He stood, raising his arms up towards the ceiling and stretching. Stifling a yawn, he crossed the common room and climbed through the portrait hole.

‘I don’t think you should be wandering around on your own,’ the Fat Lady said disapprovingly.

Harry rolled his eyes at her, causing an affronted look. ‘I’m staying in the castle.’

‘Hmm,’ said the Fat Lady, straightening her dress and looking distinctly ruffled. ‘Where are the other two? Haven’t seen much of them.’

‘No,’ said Harry, and didn’t offer any more. He attempted a half-smile and, ignoring the stern look, carried on down the corridor.

Even the portraits were trying to keep him under lock and key. How ridiculous was that? Pretty soon, the coats of armour would start tng hng him wherever he went, Harry supposed. He could just imagine them trying to be sneaky - their metal bodies clanging down a corridor behind him and then smashing into a corner in an attempt to hide themselves when he turned around.

He wondered how long it would take Hermione and Ron to notice he had gone. They had already been up in the dorm for most of the afternoon. Would they be coming out for provisions any time soon? They had to eat at some point. And wash. He hoped this behaviour wasn’t going to go on for the next month. He doubted it though; they were just making up for lost time.

Seven floors down and Harry was in the Entrance Hall. He made to cross over to the stairwell leading down to the kitchens, but stopped in his tracks. He could see, through the doors of the Great Hall, a lone figure sitting at the far end of the Slytherin table.

Harry knew immediately who it was. He had been informed that Malfoy was also staying at the castle for the remainder of the holidays, for ‘his own protection’. Harry hadn’t seen him around until now, but that was, perhaps, because Harry hadn’t left his own common room that often. Harry only left at mealtimes, and when he, Ron and Hermione had come to the Great Hall to eat with the half a dozen teachers that had decided to stay in the castle over the holidays, Malfoy had always been noticeably absent.

Forgetting about his plan to get his ego stroked, Harry entered the Great Hall. Malfoy didn’t look up as Harry made his way over to him, though he must have heard him; Harry was making no effort to be stealthy.

Once he was standing in front of Malfoy, Harry could see he was playing with a pack of Muggle cards. He was staring down at them with immense concentration, his hair falling into his eyes, his forearms supporting his weight on the table.

‘What’re you playing?’ Harry asked. His voice sounded way too loud in the huge and silent room.

‘I’m on my own with a pack of cards,’ Malfoy murmured, still not looking up. ‘What do you think?’

Harry, feeling like an idiot, said, ‘Solitaire, then.’

‘Hmm,’ said Malfoy, scratching the back of one hand with the other. ‘Ten points to Gryffindor.’

‘Only ten?’

Malfoy didn’t reply, and Harry watched him for a few moments, seeing the concentration. It was just like Malfoy, Harry thought, to give his all to something as simple as cards. He wasn’t satisfied until he had done everything to the best of his abilities. Usually that involved evil deeds, manipulations and cunning strategies. But this was just an innocent pack of cards, and he was clearly stuck.

‘Why don’t you put that there,’ Harry said, pointing.

‘You can’t put two reds together.’

‘Ah,’ said Harry, who had never actually played this game before. He knew it had something to do with putting the cards in some sort of sequence, but other than that, he was clueless. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to help. It beat sitting in the common room and staring at pages of a book he was never going to read. ‘You could put that there,’ he tried again.

Malfoy sighed almost imperceptibly. ‘You can’t put two blacks together.’

‘Right,’ said Harry, scratching his head. ‘Er … how about –’

‘For fuck’s sake, Potter,’ snapped Malfoy, looking up at lasto ano and annoy Weasley.’

‘But that’s not as fun,’ said Harry, and then wondered if a fight was coming his way.

Malfoy sat back, leaving his cards for the time being and crossing his arms over his chest. ‘No,’ he said, sounding slightly amused. ‘He loses his temper far too quickly. Red face … shaking … it’s quite amusing.’

Harry ignored the barb and stepped over the bench, sitting down. ‘You wanna play Snap?’

‘Pardon?’ said Malfoy. ‘I don’t remember requesting your company.’

‘I know,’ said Harry. ‘But I’m bored, and so are you.’

‘Where’s Granger and her lapdog?’

Harry rolled his eyes and then said, ‘Up ie doe dorm.’

oy soy smirked, but before he could reply, Harry swept the neatly arranged cards into a pile.

‘Hey!’ said Malfoy, attempting to grab at the cards. Harry held them close to his chest and began sorting them into an orderly pile. ‘I was in the middle of a game.’

‘You weren’t getting anywhere,’ Harry said dismissively.

‘That’s not the point, you prat.’

‘Come on,’ said Harry, beginning to shuffle. ‘Let’s play Snap.’

‘Potter, I am not playing that ridiculous, childish game. Now give me my cards.’

‘Scared you’re going to lose?’ Harry asked challengingly. ‘It’s all about speed and quick reflexes, after all. And we both know who always gets to the Snitch first.’

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed, and Harry fought a smirk of triumph.

‘Fine,’ said Malfoy shortly. ‘Deal them out.’

Harry eyed the cards and split them into two piles, roughly the same size. He held one out for Malfoy, but he said, ‘No way, Potter. Do it properly. I don’t trust you not to cheat.’

Harry rolled his eyes again. ‘That’s rich, considering the source.’

‘I don’t cheat,’ said Malfoy, sounding offended. ‘I just use every possible resource to my benefit.’

‘Oh, of course,’ said Harry dryly. ‘How silly of me. Now then, one for you,’ he said in a mocking, overly-friendly voice, laying a card down in front of Malfoy, ‘and one for me. One for you, and one for me. One for you, and one for –’

‘Don’t be an idiot, Potter. Get on with it,’ said Malfoy impatiently.

Harry smiled inwardly, and dealt the cards quickly. ‘Now don’t forget,’ he said, once he was done, ‘you’re not allowed to look at them.’

‘I know what the bloody rules are, Potter. Not that there are many in this immature, pathetic game. Why am I even doing this?’ he asked rhetorically.

‘Because I asked you to,’ said Harry. ‘You can go first.’

‘So generous, Potter.’

‘Well, I try.’

***

Harry went back up to the common room to find Ron and Hermione asleep on the couch. They had finally emerged from the dorm, and had obviously been waiting for him. They looked so sweet there, sitting next to one another, Hermione’s head on Ron’s shoulder. Harry felt a bit guilty about it; it was very late, he had to admit, and perhaps he should have informed them he was going out. But he hadn’t expected to be gone so long. After all, his initial plan was to visit Dobby, and usually, ten minutes with the elf’s company was more than enough. But he had been drawn into the competition with Malfoy, and they had played as though they were on the Quidditch field. It was stupid, really, Harry thought. It was only Snap, after all. But that didn’t make either of them less determined to win. Which Harry had done, of course, because Malfoy never got the best of him.

Harry bent down over the sleeping pair and nudged Hermione’s shoulder. She murmured something unintelligible, but didn’t wake, so he nudged her a bit harder. Her eyes snapped open, immediately alert, and then softened once she spotted Harry. Harry smiled at her as she blinked sleepily and poked Ron in the ribs to wake him, so that she could move.

Harry sat on the armchair opposite and waited for them to finish their yawns, stretching and eye rubbing.

‘Where’ve you been?’ Ron said thickly.

‘In the Great Hall.’

Hermione attempted to run her fingers through her hair, but found it tangled, so she gave up, slumping back in her seat in an undignified and entirely un-Hermione-like way.

‘Why didn’t you tell us you were going out?’ she asked.

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. ‘I, er – I didn’t want to disturb you.’

‘What were you doing in the Great Hall?’ Ron asked, just as Hermione’s cheeks went pink.

‘Playing cards,’ Harry said, and then immediately regretted it.

‘Playing cards?’ said Hermione, perplexed. She looked him over, as if trying to find remnants of a card game in evidence. ‘On your own?’

Damn it, thought Harry. Why couldn’t he have just come up with a good lie?

‘No,’ said Harry. ‘Actually, er – with Malfoy.’

They stared at him, and Harry clarified, ‘I went out for a walk, saw Malfoy playing cards, and joined him.’

‘Just like that?’ said Ron in a dubious voice.

Harry nodded. ‘Yeah.’

‘You played cards with Malfoy?’ Hermione said.

‘Yeah.’

‘A and and there was no blood spilt?’ said Hermione.

‘No,’ said Harry. ‘Of course not! God.’

‘Sorry,’ said Hermione, not soug itg it. ‘But it’s just … you know … you and Malfoy … playing cards …’

‘Yeah?’ said Harry. ‘And?’

‘And – well –’ said Hermione, looking uncomfortable. ‘Well – it’s just –’

‘You were playing cards with Malfoy,’ said Ron. ‘I mean, you two can’t even be in the same room without tearing chunks out of each other.’

Harry waved a hand. ‘That was then.’

‘When?’ said Hermione.

‘Before, you know, the war,’ said Harry. ‘You must have noticed how different he’s been this past year.’

‘Yes, but –’ said Hermione.

‘I mean, he fought for our side,’ said Harry.

‘That’s true,’ said Hermione. ‘But still, you and Malfoy, playing cards. It’s not …’

Harry sighed. He had no idea why they were having this conversation. It was definitely true that he and Malfoy had never gotten along, and he had to admit that their sudden civility was strange, but it was only a game of cards. It wasn’t as though they had suddenly become best friends.

If Harry had looked up at that moment, he would have seen the odd glint in Ron’s eyes - an expression that he never wore in regards to Harry.

‘Come on,’ said Hermione, ‘we’d better get to bed.’

That’s where you’ve been all day, thought Harry, looking up. Ron’s strange expression had vanished, and he yawned, stood up, offered a hand to Hermione and led her over to the stairs. Harry followed.

***

Malfoy, a smirk of triumph on his gloating face, looked up at Harry with glittering eyes, his hand resting over the pack of cards.

‘What’s that now, Potter?’ he asked, enjoying his victory way too much. ‘That’s my fourth win. And you’ve won - How many was it?’

Harry scowled.

‘Ah, yes. None, at all. That’s right, isn’t it?’

‘Shut up, Malfoy.’

‘Don’t be such a bad loser,’ said Malfoy, his smirk stretching. ‘It’s not your fault you’re not as great as I am.’

‘Why are you such a prat?’ Harry asked.

‘Good genetics,’ Malfoy replied instantly.

Harry snorted. ‘I wouldn’t be so proud of that, if I were you.’

‘I’ve inherited many great things from my parents,’ Malfoy said. ‘My looks, for one.’

Harry stared at him. ‘What about them?’

Malfoy rolled his eyes. ‘It’s just like you not to recognise beauty.’

From a purely superficial point of view, Harry could admit that Malfoy was good looking. But beautiful was something he associated with women, not men. Harry didn’t think Malfoy was beautiful at all. He did think that the hair was better these days, though, without the abundance of gel he used to use, and his skin was flawless, so those worked in his favour.

‘Have you finished admiring me, Potter?’ Malfoy asked.

‘Just trying to work out how you can call yourself beautiful.’

‘Well –’ began Malfoy, in a manner that suggested that they were discussing his favourite topic, but he was interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

Both boys looked over towards the entrance and saw Albus Dumbledore strolling towards them, wearing bright purple robes and a small smile. Malfoy grumbled something unintelligible, scooped the cards up, and began shuffling them.

‘Good afternoon,’ Dumbledore said, once he had reached them, standing with his hands behind his back.

‘Sir,’ said Harry. Malfoy offered a jerk of his head.

‘I was just taking a stroll,’ said Dumbledore, ‘and I saw you two sitting in here. I must say that it was, ah, most surprising.’

Harry cleared his throat, feeling awkward. ‘Yeah, well –’

‘What are you playing?’ Dumbledore asked.

Malfoy shot Harry a look, as if warning him not to admit to the game they were playing. It was a little embarrassing, Harry supposed, but he wasn’t very good at lying to Dumbledore.

‘Snap,’ said Harry. Malfoy kicked him under the table and Harry jumped. He threw a glare at him.

‘Wonderful,’ said Dumbledore, swinging his legs over the bench and settling down comfortably next to Harry.

Malfoy gave Dumbledore a perplexed look and then glanced at Harry, clearly wondering what was going on.

‘Erm – Sir -’ said Harry.

‘Deal them out then, Mr Malfoy,’ Dumbledore said jovially. ‘It’s been many years since I’ve played a rousing game of Snap, and I have some free time right now.’

‘You – er – you actually want to play with us?’ Harry asked.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Dumbledore cheerfully, rubbing his hands together in apparent anticipation. ‘Of course, I doubt I’m much of a challenge against anyone as young as you two.’ He grinned at them, eyes twinkling. ‘So, off you go then, Mr Malfoy.’

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Harry and then started dealing the cards.

‘Lovely,’ said Dumbledore, scooping up his pile. ‘So, who’s going first?’

It wasn’t as if Harry could tell his headmaster to go second. ‘You can.’

‘Right you are then, Harry. So –’ he put a card down on the table.

Malfoy looked as if he would rather be anywhere but here, and even Harry found it an odd experience. He was very close to Dumbledore, it was true, but they had never engaged in any social activity together.

There was silence for a while as they each took their turns. Dumbledore had a habit of laying a card down in a deliberate fashion, and then grinning at them expectantly. Harry could certainly relate to the ‘Barmy old fool’ comment Malfoy had once made.

‘So, you two boys enjoying your holiday?’ Dumbledore asked as they played.

Malfoy nodded stiffly, and Harry said, ‘Yes, sir. It’s fine.’

Dumbledore gave him one of those penetrating looks that always made Harry feel uncomfortable. ‘Dreadfully boring, though, I suppose.’

‘Well –’ said Harry awkwardly. He didn’t want to seem atefateful for the hospitality.

‘I know it’s a hardship for both of you,’ said Dumbledore, ‘but you must understand that I only have your best interests at heart.’

‘I know,’ said Harry heavily, laying a card down.

‘Perhaps we could arrange an escorted visit into Hogsmeade next weekend,’ said Dumbledore.

Both Harry and Malfoy’s heads whipped up at that, and Harry felt a glimmer of hope in his chest. Would he really be allowed to visit the village? Get out of the castle? Judging by the look on Malfoy’s face, he was also thinking along the same lines.

‘Snap!’ said Dumbledore, smacking his hand down over the cards.

Harry looked down in surprise. Dumbledore may have been the greatest wizard of the age, but Harry hadn’t actually expected him to win anything.

‘Damn,’ said Malfoy.

Dumbledore chuckled, scooping up the cards and adding them to his pile. ‘I haven’t quite lost the knack, it seems.’ Malfoy scowled. ‘So, off we go again then.’

‘Sir,’ said Harry, laying his card down. ‘About the trip –’

‘Ah, yes,’ said Dumble. He. He took his turn, putting a card down, and studied the pack to make sure there wasn’t a Snap opportunity. Once he was satisfied, he said, ‘No, that wasn’t just a ploy. Perhaps it could be arranged. I expect the four of you would appreciate a few hours away from the castle.’

Harry looked at Malfoy, wondering how he felt about having to tag along with him, Ron and Hermione. It wasn’t as if they could have two different escorts so that Malfoy could go off on his own.

‘What do you say, Mr Malfoy?’ Dumbledore asked.

‘Who would be taking us?’ Malfoy replied.

‘Oh, wehavehave to see,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Professor McGonagall might have some spare time. Or maybe Professor Trelawney.’

Harry and Malfoy blinked at each other. Professor Trelawney?

‘Snap!’ said Dumbledore.