In the details

A/N: Oh my god. Shocking gasp of gasping shocked-ness, I’m skipping the personalized disclaimer! I got to thinking as I was sitting here trying to come up with a chapter that I spend way too much time thinking of a cutesy disclaimer that eventually boils down to ‘I don’t own it. Please don’t sue me.’ This is time that could be better spent writing the actual story, mental energy that could be used coming up with lovely angsty fluffy smut is squandered on something most of you don’t even read. (Hell, let’s face it, most of you don’t even read THIS). So that’s it. No more funny disclaimers from Murray, from now on it’ll be Author notes and story only. Also, unlike most of my stories, this one will NOT be told from alternating view points. It’s all Harry, all the time. Read on!

Chapter 2 Sleep Apnea

If I expected Draco to lead me along to some secret passageway, I was dead wrong. I knew every path in and out of Hogwarts thanks to my father’s map, and we were certainly on one, just not one I expected.

“Malfoy,” I hissed angrily as walked at a rather leisurely pace along the main path to the gates, “Are you TRYING to get us caught!? Those are the main gates!!!”

“No, really? You’d think that after attending this school for near on 6 years I’d know where the main gates are, Potter. Who would have guessed?” In the ever encroaching darkness of oncoming night, I could practically hear him rolling his eyes as he gave the snarky and sarcastic response. “This is the fastest way to Hogsmeade isn’t it?”

“Yes, but,” I started.

“And it’s against the rules to SNEAK off grounds isn’t it?”

“Of course it is!”

“But we’re not sneaking off, are we? We’re using the main gate. Anyone could see us and stop us if they wanted to, and if they don’t, then that’s not our problem,” he said. And god help me, it sounded reasonable. “Besides,” he continued as the wrought iron gates loomed closer and the castle grew further away, “if you’re going to break the rules, then break them.”

“But,” I tried again, sure that something would happen the moment we left grounds. There were wards weren’t there? That’s what made secret passages secret, no one knew you were coming or going.

“Look, Potter,” Draco sighed, “It’s like this- to really experience being bad, you have to break the rules. You damn goody-two-shoes never outright BREAK a rule you just bend them until there’s no real point for them to be there in the first place. What’s the point? Wouldn’t it be easier in all of your ‘save the world’ adventures if you didn’t give a damn about how you got it done? All of that tiptoeing and dancing around things takes too much time and too much energy. Besides, in for a penny, in for a pound, they say. There’s a certain thrill in the possibility of being caught that makes it all worthwhile. The more possibilities there are the more fun it is. That’s basic math, Potter.”

“That’s not math,” I muttered, “that’s stupidity. But then, evil and stupid always did seem to go together.” He wasn’t supposed to hear me, not really, but he did, and stopped just before the gate, turning slightly to look at me.

Draco arched one eyebrow, “Do you really think I’m evil, Potter?” There was an odd sort of hopefulness in his voice. He smirked when I didn’t answer, “Good. Come on then.” He turned and strode calmly though the gates, onto the main path to Hogsmeade. I stood stunned for a moment, frozen in place. I was confused, torn between my desire to know the darker nature of things and an urge to run and confess all to Dumbledore. Not that there was anything to confess. I hadn’t done anything wrong….yet. I took a deep breath and stepped over that invisible line between Hogwarts and the world. Nothing happened. No alarms went off, no teachers popped onto the scene to expel us, nothing. Surely someone had to know that we had disobeyed. I turned and looked up to the school, but it looked as serene as ever against the rich, dark sky, its hundreds of windows lit like stars. “Well, come on then!” Draco called from a little way down the path, “I’m thirsty!”

“Coming,” I called back, frowning. When you blatantly break rules, isn’t something bad supposed to happen? I saw that Draco had started moving again, quickly leaving me behind. “Malfoy, wait up!”

“Time waits for no man, Potter,” Malfoy laughed, “YOU’D better HURRY up before we really DO get caught. Don’t get cocky. Well, cockier.” He chortled.

I growled a little bit under my breath, jogging to catch up with the blonde Slytherin, “At least I’m not an arrogant bastard,”
I sniped as I came side by side with him and walked faster in order to pass him.
He seemed unfazed, continuing to stroll slowly behind me, as if this were a leisurely walk through a park and not a blatant breaking of school policy. I slowed down myself after a while, and soon we were walking together again. “I’m not you know,” he said after a minute or two of silence.

“Not what?”

He smirked, “A bastard. My parents WERE married, until Mum divorced my father for going to Azkaban.” He shrugged cold as ice, not caring that the father he had seemed to idolize before was now in prison. Surely, even a genocidal bastard like Lucius Malfoy deserved some sort of sympathy from his own son. Malfoy saw my astonishment and laughed again, “Potter, there are only two rules to being bad. One: only do what YOU want to do, and two: don’t get caught doing it. My father failed on both counts.”
I thought about that for a moment, wondering at the emphasis. His father had been caught because he’d been at the ministry that night that…well, I didn’t like to think about that…but he’d been there on Voldemort’s orders. Did he not WANT to be? That would be an interesting revelation, wouldn’t it? Did Draco not agree with Voldemort either? That would make Malfoy good after all, wouldn’t it?

“Potter…” Draco’s voice broke me out of my reverie, “You’re going the wrong way.”

“Hmm?” I was still stuck in my ‘Malfoy may not be evil’ train of thought. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you are placing your feet one in front of the other in the incorrect direction for us to reach our destination.” He said slowly, and jerked his head to the side. “This way.”

I blinked and looked around. The Three Broomsticks was right in front of us. “But the pub is right here?” It really was a question at this point.

“No,” Draco said shaking his head, “there’s A pub right there, but not THE pub. Where we’re going is a bit more exclusive and a little less crawling with teachers.”

“But, I thought the point was to make more possibilities for getting caught.” I mocked moodily, “If we go into a pub full of teachers where we’re not supposed to be and they don’t see us, then that’s not our problem.”

Draco shook his head, “Potter, Potter, Potter, you have got a lot to learn about being bad. Choose your battles, that’s rule three of being bad.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me along.

“You said there were only two.” I don’t know why I was being so immature, Draco always did bring out the worst in me. “Where are we going, anyway?”

He released my arm. “Evil is stupid, remember?” he snapped, then pointed, “There, The Gargoyle. Finest night club in Hogsmeade, which isn’t saying much, but it’s better than pumpkin juice and butter beer at The Broomsticks.”

He was pointing to a plain brick building, but one thing every good wizard knows is that nothing in the magical world is how it seems. You can’t take anything for granted. Sure enough, once we were inside, it was obviously a dark wizard hangout. There were dimly lit private booths along the walls, with a few open tables draped in black cloth here and there. The whole place was packed with people dancing and thrashing around to some sort of rock music coming from speakers disguised as cauldrons. Most of the people dancing were what I assumed to be the next generation of Death Eaters, though no one from our school, save Draco and myself. That was good at least. Less chance of someone snitching on me, I supposed, though I couldn’t help but think that this must be some sort of trap. It was loud, dark, crowded and smelled faintly of…

“Pot!” I exclaimed to Malfoy as the blonde paid the hefty-looking bouncer. “They’re smoking pot!”

Malfoy and the bouncer exchanged a look then Malfoy put his arm over my shoulder, “Potter, your skills of observation never fail to amaze us all, but for one night, could you keep the obvious to yourself? Who cares if they’re smoking? You don’t have to, though I might indulge a bit later, and no one’s going to force you to. Free choice goes both ways Potter, you can choose to be good, and you can choose to be bad. Which is it tonight?”

I stared at him, processing, and then sighed. “In for a penny, in for a pound, right?” He smiled, actually smiled, and squeezed my shoulder a bit.

“Atta boy Potter, shake off those fusty shackles of good behavior, it’s time to PARTY!” this last bit was shouted out, and the whole place responded in kind. “Drinks are on me!” Another loud roar of approval.

“Not ‘til later tonight, if your usual pattern is anything to go by,” said the bartender nearest us, a young man of about 23 or 24, with sandy blond hair and brownish eyes. He looked more like a JC Crew model than a poster boy for evil, but you never can judge a book by its cover. He leaned forward toward me and stage whispered conspiratorially, “You’d better watch yourself with this one mate, or he might be going home with someone else.” He winked and I blushed, stammering protestations.

"He’s not…we’re not…it’s not…” I was pointing and gesturing in a vague sort of way, but no one was paying attention to me, except probably the bouncer, who must think I was a nut.

The bartender had instead turned all of his attention to Draco, who was already entertaining a growing group that had surrounded us the moment we entered. That, and the bartender’s comment about ‘his usual pattern’ made me suspect that this was a common hangout of Draco’s, and that, just like at Hogwarts, here, he was also considered something of an icon. Wanted, lusted after. The center of attention. “….and that’s why I wasn’t here last week,” The crowd laughed as of it were the funniest punch line, and it could have been for all I knew. I hadn’t heard to rest of it. Malfoy saw me staring and smirked, then inclined his head, “Two Cauldrons, Paul,” he said to the bartender, “And a round of shots to start us off.” He looked at a girl to his left and made a subtle gesture. She rose and walked off in a bit of a huff as Draco patted the vacated seat next to him. “Don’t just stand there like a twit, sit down.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear as I did, “And for fuck’s sake, try to keep your mouth closed, you look like a Venus Fly Trap.”

Paul slid the drinks over to us expertly, a row of deadly looking purple shots lined up neatly on the bar and two giant cauldron shaped glasses that seemed to smoke, “Bottoms up,” he toasted and took a shot himself, before slamming it expertly on the bar and helping the next patron. Draco followed suit, grabbing up a purple shot and downing it quickly. Not to be outdone, I reached for one as well. It tasted vile, but lord did it pack a punch. I saw Draco taking a deep draft from his cauldron and I did the same. That tasted much better. In fact, it didn’t taste like anything at all. And it completely erased the acidic taste of the purple liquid. Draco was taking another shot, and then so was I, and this one was much better than the first. And then a third, and a fourth, each followed by a long draw of the cauldron drink. Needless to say, I soon lost count of what I was drinking and who I was talking to.

“And you know, Dumbledore is soo boring,” I slurred to the person across from me. Who was it again? Blonde, grey eyes. The name was there somewhere… “We should call him Dumblebore.” I giggled and the person raised an eyebrow. “You know what I’m saying…uhm….”

“Draco.” Paul supplied.

“No, no, he’s Draco,” I said, pointing at Malfoy, “and you’re Paul. And you don’t look at all evil. Like me, I’m not evil, I’m…”

“Wasted.” Draco laughed. “And it’s about bloody time I say! Another round to celebrate, Paul!”

I shook my head, “No, I don’t wanna drink. I wanna dance.” I said, and grabbed for his hand, without thinking, “Come on Draco, dance with me. I love this song. I’ve never heard it before but its awesome!”
Draco was laughing still, but he let me pull him from the barstool and the crowd parted before us as we made our way to a clear space on the floor and danced. And danced. And danced some more, until finally Draco called it quits, “Easy Potter,” he chuckled as I protested, “it’s your first night after all. Don’t overdo it.” I frowned up at him. Up? When had I sat down? We were in one of the secluded booths and the club was in full swing around us. When had we gotten there? “What, Potter?”

“Stop that!” I snapped.

“Stop what?”

“Calling me Potter. I called YOU Draco didn’t I? Or was that only in my head? Either way. Stop it.” I huffed as he laughed at me. “It isn’t fair.” I pointed out.

“Life rarely is,” he countered, sliding onto the seat next to me, “Besides,” His voice was low and dangerous in my ear, “I never said you COULD call me by my given name,” I shivered in my seat. Something about that voice was just sooo…. “But I might give you permission if…”

“If what?” I felt myself leaning toward him unconsciously and did nothing to stop it. It was wrong and I knew it, but wasn’t that what made it feel so good?

He smirked, “If you let me do something which I think both of us really want and need,” he said suggestively, “Well?”
I nodded slowly, then before I could change my mind, grabbed his head in my hands and kissed Draco Malfoy. That was what he had meant, wasn’t it?

A/N: another short chapter, and full of philosophy of a sort, but when you’re writing a story about good and evil you can’t help but go into philosophy can you? And was that really what Draco had meant? Review and show the love, as always, to find out! And give some of the love to my Grandpa Liz, miss Vampirekisses for beta-ing! Marshmallows of yummy goodness!!!!