Twisted Faerie Tales

Little Red Riding Hood

Author’s Note: Thanks go out to Laurel for her beta work on this story. This first installment is for Gareth’s birthday. (I heart you, Lovie), even though it's a tad late. His challenge: to create a Horror/Romance play on Little Red Riding Hood. To include: Fenrir and a legion of child werewolves, the Quote ‘Can I keep you?’ from Casper and a dancing elf or leprechaun. I was originally going to try and keep each tale within one chapter, but some of the archives cut you off after so many words and this one went over 14k for a single story alone, so alas I had to divide it into 2 parts.

Assumptions: AU (obviously) Alternate summer after 6th year. A few unsuspecting variables hindered me along the way, but I hope I mastered them all with appropriate explanations and believability.

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Once upon a time…

I hated that phrase because it always seemed to be followed by ‘happily ever after’ at some point and I never found the sentiment to be very realistic. My life was anything but a fairytale, despite how it seemed on the outside.

Born a wealthy pureblood wizard, people often thought my life was rose petals and unicorns, but far from it. My mother was addicted to numbing potions and my father was a cold tyrant. Never had I gotten a lick of love out of either since I stopped being an adorable infant and my mother began to see me as only a nuisance, while my father simply regarded me as a tool to be wielded as he saw fit.

My friends could scarcely even be called by that title; they only tolerated me because of my name and influence. Because they were bred to do so, they all thought ahead to what the Malfoy name might bring them in the future and they were careful to cultivate what they thought to be a lasting relationship with me.

School was a welcome retreat, but over the summer I was lonely and I was bored and I couldn’t see a way out of my pathetic life, so when a letter arrived addressed to me from my Grandmother Black, it came as a welcome surprise.

My dearest Draco,

As you might have heard, I’ve become ill and the incompetent half-blood Healers at St. Mungo’s can do nothing to prolong my life any further, which is further testament to how important it is not to sully our bloodlines. Regardless, I have but short time to live and I have bequeathed part of my estate to you. As my favorite grandson, you will inherit half my fortune and half of my home in the Elder Forest; while the rest will go to a boy your age I have taken a considerable interest in.

I’d like to see you once more before I pass so that I might turn over the keys to my kingdom in person, so to speak. I know the journey is long, but I estimate that if you leave right away, you should be able to make it here while I’m still lucid.

Always remember that you’re better than the life you have been given, Draco, and I love you dearly.

Sincerely yours,

Druella Black

It was true, I knew only too well of my grandmothers illness and that she was soon to be leaving us, and I was sick over it. I loved her the most of any of my insane family members and I would miss her dearly. Still, a slow smile curled on my face as I thought of being able to tell both my parents to sod off. Maybe this other boy my grandmother left half of the estate to would be agreeable enough to live with. It was certainly a large enough home that it wasn’t necessary for our paths to cross often, and if he was my age I probably already knew him through school unless he went to Durmstrang, which I supposed was a possibility. I realized I should have probably been offended that she had left part of her fortune to someone who wasn’t even a blood relation, but I couldn’t bring myself to be anything but relieved that I could leave Malfoy Manor and my parents behind at last.

I couldn’t think of who my grandmother might have taken a liking to in such a way that she’d be willing to leave such a handsome inheritance to him. If it were someone at Hogwarts they would have to be in Slytherin, most of the purebloods were. Perhaps it was Blaise or Theo, I wouldn’t mind sharing living quarters with either of them, I was quite used to it after six years at Hogwarts. Maybe I’d be lucky and it would be Victor Krum, he could give me flying lessons and teach me tricks that would allow me to finally best Potter at Quidditch.

She was right about the journey being long though. I had made the trip to her reclusive manor often enough to know that going alone would be both arduous and dangerous. Evil things lurked in the Elder Forest, and Grandmother’s home was in the dead center of it. That alone might not be so bad except that the forest itself was what some wizards refer to as a ‘dead zone’, meaning no wand magic of any kind can be performed there. In truth, the forest simply held a magic of its own and tended to reject human magic, making most witches and wizards avoid the dangers it held, but other magical creatures often found it a welcome haven free of human influence and greed.

It’s a three-day flight by broom to the forest edge, where I would have to land and walk the remaining distance. The forest doesn’t fair well with flying; there are pockets where the magic of the forest absorbs the magic of the broom, just as it does with wand magic, leaving the broom only useful for sweeping. Many people have attempted to fly over or through the forest and wind up falling to their death or being injured so badly that they wished they’d died. I certainly wouldn’t want to be lying lame on the forest floor at night when the werewolves came out.

The walk alone is almost a full week -with a good pace maybe five days. Gran’s place is so ancient that all the magic is in tact in her clearing, but powerful wards keep people from Apparating in and out and her fireplace isn’t tied to any floo network. I was looking forward to being able to live the life I wanted, away from prying eyes and the judgments of my parents and all their pureblood friends. I’d even be safe from Voldemort in the confines of my grandmother’s manor in the middle of that forest. Hardly anyone even knew it was there.

I set to packing at once, stuffing whatever I could quickly grab into a hefty rucksack before shrinking it and packing another. Before long I had three bags overflowing with clothing, supplies, our family’s camping gear and anything else I thought I might need for the journey ahead. They were all shrunken and strapped together on my back. Over that I threw a hunter green cloak, thick enough to keep me warm at night and light enough to not slow my pace. I decided to leave a note for my parents instead of telling them I was leaving in person and I wondered how long it would take them to even notice I was missing.

Dear Mother and Father,

I’m leaving, and if I’m lucky you’ll never see me again.

Your Son,

Draco

Simple, curt, to the point, just like my relationship with them, it only seemed appropriate to end things as coldly as they have been between us for as long as I can remember.

With everything in place, I snuck out of my childhood home and set off on my broom due north, ready to begin my life anew.

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The flight went smoothly, but I was already exhausted and it was getting dark as I approached the edge of the forest. I felt it might be wise to set up camp outside the forest instead of inside on this first night, but then again, I might be able to make good headway in the twilight hours before having to settle in for the night. It might shave good portion off of my trip through the woods.

I was conflicted, but in the end I decided I should call it a night outside the wood instead. It would be safer and as soon as my feet touched the ground, fatigue rolled over me like a warm glass of milk and brandy. It wasn’t until I cast the Engorgio Charm on my duffle bags that I realized my horrible mistake and lack of planning.

If I shrunk any of my things again, I wouldn’t have to access to them in the forest, at least not in their right size and I had little use for a mouse’s sweater or a tent that could only give shelter to my foot. Panic set in at my current predicament, but I found some relief in the knowledge that I had chosen not to venture into the forest before setting up camp.

Attempting to calm my nerves, I decided to focus on erecting the tent and preparing a bit of food to keep my energy up. After eating I set about reorganizing my packs. I kept a single change of clothes, enough food to last out the week and the basic camping gear I would need –a sleeping bag and implements to light a fire- and packed it into one bag, which was heavy, but not too much to lug through the woods. It was, however, going to slow me down significantly, but I knew I would just have to accept it because there wasn’t much else I could do at this point.

The rest of my things I shrunk as small as they would go and crammed them into the bottom of the other sack, which I placed by my bed before bundling up and climbing into the warm comfort of my sleeping bag. I knew it would be the last comfort I saw for a week so I settled in to milk it for all it was worth.

Morning came too soon, and as the rays of dawn beamed in through the tent flap I gathered my things and departed, shrinking the tent and placing it in a side pocket of my rucksack. Merlin, how I loved magic. I wasn’t sure how I was going to live without it for an entire week.

With a deep breath and the promise of a happier life lying on the other side of that trail, I set out, determined to make the most of the adventure that loomed ahead of me. I trudged through the forest for a several hours unerringly, but after time, the shrubbery began closing in on me and the trail became harder to follow. There wasn’t a lot of light streaming through the trees, and, even with the sun cresting overhead, it looked like dusk under the thick forest canopy.

Most of the trees were dark and gnarled, twisted unholy looking things that seemed to bend and sway toward my moving form as I made my way along the trail. I already felt tired, hungry and filthy and I had no idea how I was going to muster through four more days of this mess. I used to think people were just being jealous prats when they called me spoiled, but I was starting to understand what they’d meant. Give me a hot bath and a fresh meal any day over this tedious trek.

Every time I’d visited my grandmother in the past, it was always with my parents, and we’d always had at least one house elf with us as well. Elf magic, it seemed, was left virtually untouched by the forest’s sapping presence, so they were able to provide the comforts I’d expected on this trip. Unfortunately it would have been too inconspicuous to steal one of the elves, and, seeing as though they all technically belonged to my father, they would be obligated to betray my whereabouts if he summoned them back to him. It was just too risky.

Now I’d be forced to sleep on rough earth, ration out my food and press myself to make the arduous journey in as little time as possible. As the light in the forest dimmed, so did the temperature. Before long I was shivering beneath my robe and casting my gaze suspiciously all around the darkening wood. Every noise caused me to jump; the hooting of an owl, the snapping of a twig, the howling of a distant wolf, all of it made me shiver and shake in my expensive dragon hide boots.

Those same gnarly trees now sought me out, beckoning me to them with their fingered branches. I tucked in as I walked, hunching over and making myself the smallest target possible until I found a clearing where I felt safe enough to pause and sleep for the night.

Moonlight caressed the trunks of the trees encircling the tiny glade making them look silver and otherworldly, but the grass was soft and mossy beneath my feet. I quickly stoked a fire and leaned over it, absorbing its warmth and soon I felt my fingers begin to thaw. I rolled out my sleeping bag and sat atop it as I nibbled on bread and cheese and drank heavily from my thermos. I could hardly believe Muggles did this so often, and for fun no less. To me it was merely a miserable trial before a worthwhile reward.

When I finally extinguished the fire and crawled under my blankets, I realized that the floor that had felt soft under my feet was anything but to my aching back. Sticks prodded me and stones bruised me and it took me ages to fall asleep, but I did, despite the howling wolves that I could swear grew closer as the night wore on.

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Luckily I was still alive and in once piece when I woke up the next morning. I knew this for certain because I could feel every inch of muscle –some I hadn’t even known existed- all screaming at me to go back and rest in a proper bed.

After a quick bite, I set out again, this time making better progress than I had the day before. Despite my increasingly heavy bag, I felt more accustomed to the dim light and rough terrain of the forest and easily avoided the underbrush as I made my way toward Grandmother’s house.

The forest grew prettier in spots as I walked along; amber, gold and red leaves made some of the trees look more like sophisticated jewelry than overgrown plants. It was a pleasant change from the evil looking trees from the day before. As night grew closer, I began to dread stopping. I couldn’t continue too much further because the dark was closing in on me, but the rest I got from sleeping on the floor was so negligible that I’d almost prefer to keep walking rather than waste precious time ‘sleeping’.

Begrudgingly, I started looking for a good place to set up camp, but it wasn’t moments before my heart gave a jarring leap and my pulse sped up. I wasn’t alone. I spotted a crimson flash in the dark ahead and I dodged behind some shrubbery to mask my presence. Peeking through, I saw what looked to be a cloaked person, or at least I assumed it was a person because I couldn’t exactly see their face. I was relieved that is wasn’t a large magical creature that might view me as some kind of midnight snack, but I was still wary of any other person who chose to wander this God forsaken place.

As they moved further away, I crept closer, trying to keep them in my line of sight so that they couldn’t sneak up on me. I was suspicious of who else might be roaming these woods; it wasn’t a very friendly place and certainly wasn’t used for recreational visits. It seemed as though they were gathering firewood, and sure enough, they soon led me to an elaborate campsite with a full tent and fizzling fire out front. The red-cloaked figure was still wandering the edge of camp with his back to me.

My desperation for comfort outweighed my good sense and I stood up and nearly jogged to the open clearing, prepared to do whatever groveling was necessary to secure a place in the stranger’s tent. I no longer cared what this person was here for, only that they had the comforts I couldn’t afford to carry with me. However, I no more made it to the dying fire before I was swallowing thickly as I suddenly felt the tip of a wand pressed against my spine.

“Who are you?” the man hissed, and his voice was far too familiar.

“I’d just like a place to sleep,” I told him. It couldn’t be who I thought, that would have been an impossible coincidence.

“Malfoy?” he snarled and whipped me around to face him, he must have recognized my voice as well. Sure enough, there I stood, staring into the glowing emerald eyes of Harry bloody Potter, bane of my existence. Even so, I wasn’t entirely dissatisfied to find him out here. It was nice to see a familiar face, even if that face had a scar on his forehead and soul-searching eyes.

“Why don’t you lower your wand, Potter. It’s useless here anyway,” I mocked.

“Oh? Is that right?” he chimed before flicking his wrist sharply. A jet of red light erupted from the tip of his wand, flew right past my face and splintered a nearby oak. I don’t think I’d ever jumped so high, but I felt like a frightened cat leaping out of its skin.

“How the hell did you manage that?” I demanded. “This forest is a dead zone.”

Potter merely shrugged and scowled over at me in distaste. “I suppose if I’m the only one with a functioning wand, it’ll be you answering the questions. Why are you here?”

I sighed as I realized I was in no position to argue and gave up all hope of making it out of this forest alive. I’d be lucky if I even got out of this clearing if Harry Potter was in charge of it. “I’m visiting my grandmother,” I told him, the vaguest possible explanation I could come up with on a moment’s notice; he didn’t need to know why I was visiting her.

“You’re… oh you have got to be joking!” he shouted, startling a nest of birds nearby. They all went flying into the forest like little black shadows, away from the burst of noise and Harry’s abrupt and harsh laughter.

“What’s so bleeding funny?” I asked, a bit put off regardless of the fact that Potter was wielding a deadly weapon and a fiercely justified grudge against me.

“Of course Druella Black is your grandmother,” he ranted, more to himself than to me. “Is this some kind of sick game your family plays? I thought it was odd to be earning some great fortune from a woman I’d never met in my life, but because she was a Black I thought it was legitimate. I thought she was a relative of Sirius.”

“She is,” I countered, wondering if being alone in the forest had driven Potter mad. He was rambling like a fool. “She’s his aunt, but what does that have to do with anything?” I asked, before silencing myself with a gasp.

All the pieces clicked together like the perfect strategy in a game of wizard’s chess. Potter was the other boy; the one grandmother had taken a liking to. Why, I couldn’t even begin to say, but there it was, my partner in a vast inheritance was also my longest, most vicious rival. Maybe I could buy out his share in the home because I couldn’t possibly live with Harry Potter for the rest of my life.

“She’s split it between us,” I explained. “I didn’t know who the other boy was until now, but her entire inheritance now belongs to both of us.”

“You let Death Eaters into our school, you tried to kill Dumbledore, you’re evil incarnate, Malfoy.” Harry hissed, leveling his wand at me again. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just cripple you and leave you to the wolves?”

“Because you’re better than that.” My voice shook as I replied, but I hoped I was right. There was a debating pause, but his eyes shined with anger, as if he wished he could be as cruel as his threats. I for one was glad he wasn’t capable of the cruelty I’d seen so many times in my life, and not just because it spared my life in this instance, but because it made him more powerful in his own special way.

“You can have it all,” Harry declared, lowering his wand and striding into his tent before angrily closing the fabric flap behind him like he was trying to slam a solid door but didn’t quite get the effect he was after.

I quietly snickered at the failed attempt at being overdramatic and followed him inside. The place was roomy, although the color scheme was garish. Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers and a warm bed was a warm bed, even if it was a putrid orange. “Potter, you’re being ridiculous,” I stated upon intruding into his private space. “No one turns down this kind of money. Do you know how many galleons are in her vault, not to mention how much her manor alone is worth?”

“What do you care?” Harry scoffed. “Wouldn’t you rather have the whole inheritance rather than split it with me?”

“I would, but half would still be more than I could spend in ten lifetimes,” I told him honestly.

“I have enough money, I don’t need anymore,” Potter replied as he began stuffing his bags. Potter was going to leave and he was going to take his glorious tent and perfectly functioning wand elsewhere –I certainly couldn’t have that.

“Fine, if you don’t need the inheritance, why did you come?” I asked.

Harry studied me a good long moment before sighing. “I thought I’d like living out here away from everything. I wouldn’t be endangering any of my friends and I could lure him out here to me instead of pressing him into battle in the midst of innocent people.”

“You’d die if you fought him out here alone,” I gasped, not sure why anyone would choose to take on that sick creature, especially without back up.

“It’s my destiny to fight him, and perhaps my destiny to die, but I plan to take him with me regardless,” Harry told me, his voice unwavering. He’d apparently been planning this for some time now and it shocked me to learn how truly selfless he was. I’d heard rumors about why Harry Potter was so great, his ability to fight Voldemort more than once, his loyalty to his friends, his expert knowledge in Defense Against the Dark Arts, all these things that mattered very little to me. But this, this raw power and willingness to die to save the world from a monster, this was something I couldn’t understand… and it fascinated me.

Here I was trying to use this home to hide from my family and their high society, psycho friends, and Potter only wanted it to keep everyone else safe from the danger he would put them in by living amongst them what with Voldemort relentlessly hunting for his head on a platter like he was. It was uncanny, but I think I liked it, and as the heat I felt in the warm tent began to pool in my groin, I realized I liked it a lot. Harry Potter was a true hero and it was turning me on.

Harry pushed back the crimson hood of his cloak and looked at me oddly, his head cocked to one side like a curious animal. “Why are you still here?” he asked softly, his breath hitching as I moved closer to him.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” I asked, trying my best to sound seductive, but it came out more like a quavering plead. I watched him swallow and then his gaze traveled over me as if weighing the pros and cons of it. “You can do as you like in the morning and I won’t stop you, but please, can I sleep with you tonight?”

I’m not sure if it was the ‘please’ or the innuendo that did it, or maybe it was a combination of the two, but he eventually nodded.

“I only have the one bed though, so we’ll have to share,” he stated matter-of-factly, but I could tell he was gauging my response to that statement.

“We’ll be sharing a lot soon,” I replied and I realized as I said it that I was making promises. I wondered if I would be able to keep them.

“Right,” Harry replied with a nod and a slight grimace.

We sat there and stared at each other for a moment, his jewel toned gaze boring into my own flinty gray, as if searching for the answers to all of life’s questions. I wondered if he found what he sought, because I didn’t feel as if I could offer him any definite answers as I had a hard enough time on my own. Eventually he looked away, back down to the floor of the tent, whether he’d gotten his answers or not. I blinked, as if coming out of a long sleep and began rummaging in my bag for something to eat. I came up with some dried meats, an apple, a hunk of cheese and some bread. Splitting it up I offered half of it to Harry, who smiled softly and began pulling apart the bread.

I concentrated on my own dry meal, trying not to stare at Potter, even though under this new light and circumstance I found him captivating. Who knew someone like me could ever be attracted to someone like him, but there he was, ruggedly handsome, his red hood thrown back to expose curly obsidian locks, his tongue darting out to fetch a stray crumb from his lips. He was really quite magnificent to look at. When I heard a sharp clearing of someone’s throat I realized that though I had tried not to stare at the boy, I had in fact been doing that very thing, and I tried to resist the blush that crept up my cheeks.

Harry didn’t seem to notice my blush, however, as he handed me a glass of water he must have just conjured. “Is it poisoned?” I asked, partially teasing.

“Would I tell you if it was?” he answered, his dark eyebrow lifted quizzically into his fringe, looking every bit a Slytherin.

I chuckled darkly and took a long draw from the glass, smiling as it refilled itself and didn’t kill me. I was growing quite sleepy, though I didn’t think that had anything to do with the water. I yawned, and Harry followed suit, muttering something about ‘yawning being contagious’.

“I suppose we should get some sleep, hm?” he suggested, his eyes flicking warily between the bed and I, but I only nodded and stood up, stretching out as I did. It wasn’t lost on me that his eyes trailed along my body as I did, lingering on my partial erection. I could no longer deny that the power and confidence Potter exuded aroused me, but what would come of it I couldn’t predict.

With a cheeky grin, Harry cast a cleaning charm on me. I felt it glide over my skin and then begin to scratch at me like an exfoliate. “What was that for?” I asked, with my eyebrows knitted into a frown.

“If I’m sharing a bed with you, you’ll be clean when you’re in it,” he commented lightly, obviously quite pleased with himself. “Plus, you smelled dreadful.”

“No one asked you to sniff me, Potter,” I muttered defensively.

“Couldn’t help it,” he replied with a chuckle as he pulled off his red-hooded cloak. He started pulling off his jumper and then paused, his smile fading abruptly as he apparently realized he was about to undress in front of me. The last thing I wanted him to do was stop, so I unclasped my own cloak to encourage him, folded it neatly and placed it to the side. Once finished, I looked across the bed at him expectantly, my eyes silently telling him ‘your turn’.

He seemed to understand and tugged the jumper over his head and letting it fall into a heap with his cloak –so messy, didn’t anyone teach him how to treat his clothing? I followed suit, removing my own shirt before drinking in his exposed chest. Quidditch had done magnificent things to him. He wasn’t some hulking muscle bound giant, but he was taught and lean; his hipbones jutting out slightly above the wait of his denims.

His gaze told me he was equally impressed with what he saw in me, the amused twinkle in his eyes growing hungry. I resisted licking my lips as he reached for the fly of his denims and struggled to free himself of the tight material. I matched his movements, although far less clumsily, and soon we were both down to our boxers, his a soft black cotton, and mine a shiny green silk.

I waited, watching his twitching fingers as he obviously thought of removing more, but instead he quickly slipped under the covers on his side of the bed, so I did the same on my side, though I couldn’t hide my smirk as I thought of how shocked he’d be if I had removed my own underwear before hopping in beside him. The surprised look on his face was even funny in my imagination.

With a flick of his wand, Harry extinguished the lights and set some decent wards around the tent. Again, I was impressed how easily a boy who hadn’t even grown up with magic could wield such spells in a place where even my father couldn’t cast a single Charm. I felt him shift around beside me, as if looking for a comfortable position. His hand accidentally grazed my thigh in his restlessness, but he instantly pulled it back as if I’d burned him. Eventually he turned away from me and settled on his side and when I heard his breathing shift in to a deeper cadence, I reached out to touch his exposed side.

His breath hitched the moment my fingertips grazed his heated flesh, even though it was a completely innocent touch. I let them linger there on his waist, waiting to see if he would shout or bat me away, but he remained perfectly still except for his ribcage moving up and down with every new bout of air he gulped down.

I didn’t know what had come over me, it wasn’t like me at all to try and silently claim someone in the dark, but my body stirred in ways I’d never felt before when I thought of Harry lying so close and there was no one around to stop me but him –and he hadn’t pried me off yet. I’d never been intimate with anyone before, and I wasn’t even sure what I was expecting from this unlikely encounter, but I knew that I wanted to press my luck and see what I could elicit from the Gryffindor who was pretending to sleep beside me.

I smiled to myself as I wondered what in the world must have been going through his mind in that moment, having his most hated rival attempting to seduce him in the middle of the woods. When I moved my hand again, it was to trail it up his chest, roving blindly across the taught skin until I felt him shiver and break his practiced calm. He shifted slightly, but neither did he move further away or closer to where I laid, but I followed him, wiggling in behind him so that my bare chest was pressed fully against his back.

His breathing halted altogether at that movement and I waited to see if it would resume or if I’d scared him to death. “Malfoy,” he whispered, his voice almost squeaky in the dark. “What are you doing?”

Despite my own nerves, I wanted to laugh, or tell him it was quite obvious what I was doing, but I simply snuggled in behind him, wrapping my arm more tightly around his waist. “I’m cold,” I lied, hoping he might take the hint and either offer to warm me or tell me to sod off.

“You don’t feel cold,” he breathed, calling me out on my fib. He didn’t give me time to reply before he shifted again. I thought at first he was moving away, but he only turned in my grip so that he was facing me instead and he shivered again when I let my hands roam up and down his spine.

“Are you cold?” I asked cheekily in response to his reaction to my touch, but he just stared at me.

“No,” he whispered at last. “I’m not.”

Our faces were only inches apart, I could feel his breath drift over me in hot waves. I wanted to kiss him so badly, and as a Malfoy, I was used to getting what I wanted, only I knew I couldn’t brazenly steal it, I had to coax it gently from the wide-eyed boy in my arms. I leaned in and watched his eyelids flutter closed as if anticipating my lips against his, but I veered away and pressed a kiss to his forehead, just beside his famous scar.

When his eyes opened, they were shining like polished gems, so I leaned in again, pressing another kiss to his cheekbone. I felt him lean into me, and I was tempted to show him how aroused I was, but I kept my groin a safe distance away from his so as not to spook the boy. I wanted him, but I had no idea how far his experimenting mood would allow him to go tonight, especially when I wasn’t sure how far I would be willing to go or even what I was doing.

My next kiss was pressed at the corner of his mouth, so close to those full lips that I could almost taste them and my heart skipped when he turned his face into me, almost catching my lips before I backed off again. “Is this okay?” I asked, and his eyes were already heavily lidded.

“Yes.” His answer came in a deep, throaty voice and my cock twitched at the sound.

Part of me wanted to crash against him, pull his lips to mine and devour him whole, but I quite enjoyed our slow and teasing pace as well: it was like a game of innocent foreplay that was already driving me mad with desire. So instead, I darted my tongue out to slowly caress his bottom lip, my eyes closing at the soft moan that met my ears.

His arm slinked around my waist and pulled me into him and I obliged, warily waiting for his reaction when we were pressed fully together. I had no reason to worry though, my own erection was met with his and we both gasped lightly when they rubbed together through the thin layers of material that separated them.

Harry was on me then, apparently forgoing the slow and steady pace we’d set for a faster and fumbling approach. He kissed me and his lips were insistent, matched only by my own yearning as I kissed him back. Harry tasted smoky and sweet, his tongue dancing with mine as we both fought for dominance of the kiss. His hands trailed up my back and fanned in my hair as my own clutched desperately at his hips to keep him locked in place against me. I could feel him rut against me, both of us gasping at the friction created between our bodies as our erections rubbed together behind thin pieces of fabric. I was getting close; I could feel the tension build inside of me like a weak dam holding back too much water. My fingers dug into him sharply, ready to make that final stroke but he suddenly pushed me away.

When we broke apart, he stared at me, his eyes going from hungry to confused in a matter of seconds before he pulled away from me, scrambling for the edge of the bed where he perched and just stared at the floor. He turned in such a manner that the blankets and shadows hid most of his body from me and I wondered what had gone wrong. “Harry,” I breathed, but apparently that was not what he wanted to hear, because he winced and gritted his teeth as if his name were offensive coming from my lips.

“Don’t,” he whispered when I moved closer. I wanted to take his hand, pull him back to me, but he wanted none of that. “I can’t do this,” he said at last, and his voice held finality within its tone.

“What did I do?” I hated how weak and pleading I sounded, but I had been caught up in him, his power, his heat, and I didn’t want to part with that.

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “I just… I don’t care about you, Malfoy. I can’t, my first… I can’t. Not with you,” he stammered, not making any sense to me at all.

I knew he didn’t care about me, how could he? I was the son of a Death Eater, I was hurtful and mean to his friends because of my own jealous rage that he wasn’t counted among mine, and I had made all the wrong choices in life. I knew that, No one knew it better than me. But hearing him say it -‘I don’t care about you, Malfoy’ - and the gentle tone he used as if trying to spare my feelings, it felt like a sharp slap to the face and I could no longer look at him.

“I think I should sleep over here on the floor,” I muttered, slipping my trousers and jumper back on so that I could better hide from his knowing gaze.

“You don’t have to do that,” he told me. “The bed is large enough for us both, just…”

“Just don’t touch you?” I finished for him and he nodded weakly.

“I can better keep that promise from down here,” I told him and snatched up the rucksack that held my sleeping bag. I rolled it out quickly, trying to ignore the fact that he was watching my every move, and I slipped in, already colder than I had been in Harry’s bed, even with all the extra clothing on.

I had known that there was a large chance of being rejected the first time I placed my fingers on his naked flesh, but it had still come as a shock to me when it happened. It seemed as though he was just as attracted to me, but apparently that wasn’t enough. I didn’t sleep well that night, but not because of the hard ground this time –though that certainly didn’t help. I couldn’t relax enough to drift off, not when I knew he was so close to me. Instead, I just stared up at the ceiling of the brightly colored tent and wondered what Harry was thinking about, I knew he laid awake too because he didn’t even bother pretending to sleep this time.

An energetic lot we were going to be come morning.

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Author's Note: So, here ends part 1. What do we think so far?