Harry and the Beast(s)

Harry and the Beast(s)

Written by Saito Cattire
Idea by Primal

Chapter One: This Definitely Counts As ‘Anything’

The Infirmary. Also not a very fun place to be most of the time. This little visit was no exception. When Harry had opened his eyes, groaning, he was immediately surrounded by his fellow Gryffindors, a few curios Slytherins, and the overactive nurse.
“Here, wipe that gunk off your face. I don’t know what it did, so no potions or spells yet,” Madam Pomphrey was saying as she threw a rag at him, “and, the lot of you, get! Stop crowding and get back to class!”
Most Gryffindors left, saying goodbye as Harry sat up and waved, but the Slytherins remained, trying to get a good laugh out of the Boy-Who-Lived.
“Did I get it all?” Harry asked as he finished rubbing and lowered the rag from his face.
Several gasps could be heard from somewhere in the room, but they were ignored as the nurse came over and did a muggle check up on the boy.
“Well, I can’t find anything wrong with you, but I don’t know about these muggle ways. There’s a lot of diseases wizards can get that muggles can’t and vice versa,” rambled Madam Pomphrey, “well, I guess you can go, but you need to stop taking the dreamless sleep potion for now, and be sure to come back over here if anything strange happens. Anything at all; from a hangnail to a sore throat. Even a paper cut; anything, do you understand?”
Harry did not meet any of the curious stares at the mention of the potion, and simply nodded, agreeing.
“Now shoo, all of you.” Harry got out of the bed, and the others backed away slightly, not wanting to get any of the strange goo on their bodies.
They had just stepped out of the room when a seventh year Slytherin boy walked by and stared at them with wide eyes and jaw dropped. He kept going as he gawked, turning his head as he passed them until he bumped heads with the wall and staggered back. He looked back at them with a highly embarrassed look before bolting around the corner.
“Do you reckon that counts as ‘anything’? Ron questions, looking towards the scene with something akin to a pitying look.
“Honestly, Ronald, why would a potion make some Slytherin do something so ridiculous,” Hermione’s words were not a question.
“Let’s just get going, ok? It’s almost lunch, and I’m starving,” Harry intervened quickly, not wanting to stand around playing Mr. Neutral all day.
“There you go, mate! Some grub ought to fix everything right up.”
“Pig.”
“What?”
“What?”
“You just said something.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you-. “
“Hey, is that Snape wearing stockings?”
Harry knew they didn’t want to see it, but they looked anyway. Not that Snape was there at all, but, at this point, Harry would do just about anything to get going.
“Hey, Harry.”
“Hey, Parkinson.”
…
Wait, what?
Harry's head turned so quickly, it let out a big pop. What he saw didn’t help matters.
He came face to face with Pansy Parkinson trying to be seductive. He thought he was safe, and that it- for that ‘thing’ before him was clearly not human, let alone accountable as a female- only tried that with Malfoy, but, unfortunately, Harry was wrong.
Harry paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and- with still wide eyes, spoke calmly, carefully and slowly,” I’m going to go pour scalding hot, extremely volatile, and permanently blinding potions in my eyes, and then everything will be okay.”
“Oh, Harry! You are just so funny!” then she did something unimaginable. She giggled.
Harry had not been joking about the potion thing, and Ron and Hermione could probably tell because they quickly come to Parkinson’s rescue.
(Un)fortunately, somebody else got there first.
“Pansy,” drawled the voice, “don’t you have somebody else to whore yourself out to?”
Her face distorted as rage came over her, “not that it is any of your business, but I have finally found ‘that’ person, so if you will kindly just go away, ‘that’ person and I can go somewhere nice and quiet and-“
Now Draco Malfoy was the one to lose his cool, he grabbed Parkinson by her arm and slammed her against the wall, attracting a few more passersby into watching. He was whispering loudly and harshly, “that is not your person. Nor will that ever be your person.”
She was glaring hard and hatefully at him now, something Harry had never thought possible before a simple three minutes ago, “well, that has to be with someone, and if not me then who?”
Malfoy smirked now, but not just any smirk, it was a large grin too, fully of conspiracy, and schemes. It was a true masterpiece of the Malfoy smirks. He was still wearing that smirk when he replied, “Oh, Pansy, of course that will just have to be me.”
Her eyes narrowed at first, but widened along with Harry’s when Malfoy let her arm go in favor of stalking towards Harry, like a predator.
Harry made to flee at first, but stayed in his position, staring defiantly as they stared at one another, neither making a move until Malfoy’s smirk became a grin and he suddenly pulled Harry forward before he could pull back and kissed him full on the mouth.
Harry could not move, his body was frozen in shock. Malfoy hates him, or maybe not. All Slytherins hate him, obviously it’s no longer all. Let’s try another-.
Did Malfoy’s tongue just swipe at him?
Yes, it did. This fact hit Harry hard, and he gasped in surprise when it came third time. A mistake of course because now Malfoy’s tongue had darted inside and Merlin! That felt nice, very nice, indeed.
Draco Malfoy is kissing him.
Draco Malfoy is kissing he, Harry Potter and, if that bulge Harry could feel against his leg there is any indication, then Draco Malfoy quite likes to kiss Harry Potter.
Regaining enough sense for standard response to the Slytherin number one, he shoved him away with wide eyes and blushing cheeks, took a half-step back, whilst shouting out, “what the bloody hell, Malfoy?!”
His shout seemed to break the daze on the other bystanders into gossips and whispering, and he heard Ron fall over from just behind him. Probably fainted.
Draco Malfoy was grinning in triumph, and looked very much like he wanted to do his happy dance and probably would have if he were from any other family.
Parkinson was seething. Can’t imagine why though. Note the sarcasm.
A quick peek at his friends said that Seamus and Dean weren’t going to do anything. They were enjoying the show, and Neville wasn’t either because he fainted too.
(A/N yes, they were there, I had said that most Gryffindors had left, which means some stayed. That’s all though, no one else.)
Hermione was a surprise; she had a blush on her cheeks, and seemed to be clinging to this moment. The crowd of course did almost nothing but whisper and gossip.
When he turned his attention back to the issue at hand, his blush grew little redder. Malfoy was standing very close again, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I’ll be seeing you.”
His lips ghosted over Harry’s when he pulled back, and- there was that damnable (hot) smirk- walked away.
Harry stood in shock for a moment, before turning toward the door he had just exited moments before.
“Harry?”
“I think this little event counts as that ‘anything’ she said to see her about,” came the emotionless reply.
With his tone you would never guess all the emotions running through him. Hermione did not miss it, she knew how this had affected him.
Fortunately for Harry, all the nameless people missed out on that clue, and only heard the lack of emotion before the door closed on their newest scandal.