Aggressive Behavior

Author’s Notes: Sorry again about the long wait. And I hope you all found this alright. I coul acc access the original post through my username for some strange reason. So I couldn’t update! But here is part of what I have written during that time (yes… just part). A nice long chapter. Hope you like it. ^_^
Warnings: This fic is SLASH and ½ (just the way I like it…) It contains Anal/ Oral / Nonconsen/ possible BP and BDSM, oh yes, and some Angstiness too. You have been warned…
Disclaimer: Like I said before, I don’t own Harry Potter or its characters, just my slash-rated thoughts about them… >=)

Aggressive Behavior: Unexpected Company

Humming. The melody drifted through the cavernous halls, like an echo in a range of dark mountains. For the sake of appraisal, one might call it beautiful. At least, it would have been beautiful and soothing to say the least, if the circumstances had been different. Ominous might have provided a more accurate distinction as the sound floated within the tomblike silence that had overcome Malfoy Manor. Narcissa Malfoy sat, hunched against the ivory, marble walls of the sitting room, twisting a few strands of white golden hair in her fingertips. Her head swayed slightly to the vague tune of her humming. And her eyes gazed dreamily toward nothing. Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop. Noises she heard every day, and recognized immediately. She paused in her wordless song to smile brightly at the shoes that stopped in front of her.

“Oh.” she said in faraway tone, raising her view to at at her visitor. “Draco, dear, you’ve grown so tall. Your father will be so proud.” She giggled shortly, then looked around. “Oh, my. The house is beginning to look ghastly. This won’t do. This won’t do at all. Dobby? Where is Dobby…” she trailed off.

Draco gave her a tired look. “Mother, Dobby isn’t here anymore. He was…”

“Oh really…”she interrupted. “That’s a shame. And he was such a good house elf.”

Draco sighed. His frustration seemed to be building. He bent down before her, wand clutched in one of his hands. “Mother?”

“Yes, sweetums?”

“I’m going away for a while.” He said, trying to sound patient.

“Okay. Say goodbye to your father on the way out.”

“Mother, how many times do I have to tell you, father is…”

Narcissa began to hum again, loudly this time. Her body rocked slowly, to the imaginary tune she composed, and Draco knew she would hear no more. A heavy sigh, and then…Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop. When his steps fade, near silence and stillness pervaded, all except for a light rustle. Mrs. Malfoy’s hum became more voluble as a wisp of parchment fluttered to the cold stone floor and her eyes edged slowly over the words written on it.

4 Privet Drive

* * *

Standing in front of the great Harry Potter, any normal aspiring witch or wizard might react in one of two ways. The first is bubbling giddiness, a rush of overexcitement that characterizes those who stongly favor him. The other is a scorching dislike that causes the person to dwell on the brink of seething hatred for him. And though Draco Malfoy would usually fall closer to the second, the look on his face was one that ared red to be saturated with bewildet. Tt. The anger, the frustration he had felt before apparating had disappeared, and for a moment, he remained impassive, surveying the boy before him. He looked as breakable as Colin Creevey, as timid as Neville Longbottom, and as lost as Winky in a sock shop, waving his hands around in the grass blindly. He spied a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, only a few feet from where he stood.

“Looking for these?” He said, and despite himself, took hold of the groping hand, leading it to them. The glasses practically flew to Harry’s face and Draco just barely had time to fit himself with the accustomed Malfoy air, before the squinting boy’s now enhanced vision could give him away. The raven-hared Gryffindor blinked once before his entire facade hardened into a grave frown.

“Malfoy.” Harry leapt to his feet. His shoulders rose and fell with every hard breath he took. He ignored his throbbing ribs, focusing all of his attention on his greatest enemy. Fierce emerald eyes met mischievous silvery grey as the two stared at each other in silent engagement. A muffled groan a few yards away drew their attention and Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of Dudley’s portly figure, lying on his back, unconscious. He clutched onto his sagging shorts and scrambled toward him, looking down at his cousin in shock. “What did you do to him?”

Draco crossed his arms over his chest, shrugging casually. “I only stunned him. A hex or two would’ve done him some good.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief. He didn’t need this right now. When he woke up, Dudley would surely seek revenge, not to mention tell Uncle Vernon. He’d undoubtedly be blamed for the incident, and the prospect of being locked in his room for the rest of the summer didn’t meet his fancy. To top it all off, the person he hated most was standing in front of him with a grin that made Harry want to slug him. “Malfoy, you dumb bastard…” he murmured, trying to appease his own anxiety.

“Manners, Potter,” Draco began, seemingly unfazed by the offensive remark. “It seems you’ve forgotten how to say thank you.”

“And it seems you’ve forgotten how to mind your own business. You show up at my house and the first thing you do is wave your wand? At my cousin! A muggle, no less!”

Malfoy raised a brow, frowning. He cored red indignantly. “The better for it. He was about to have his way with you. Perhaps I should have let him.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Had the wicked blonde not shown up when he did, Harry would have been despoiled right on the front lawn. Harry closed his eyes and sighed deeply, bringing a hand to his temple and kneading it gently. This was giving him a headache, and that was preventing him from thinking clearly. He sighed again and opened his eyes to a very smug looking Malfoy. He knew he was right. But Harry wasn‘t about to admit it. Instead, “What are you doing here, anyway?” He muttered. The fury in his voice was gone, exchanged for a tone of mild irritation.

Draco grinned. “Well as you know, Potter, I’ve just celebrated a birthday. And that means…”

“You’ve come of age.”

“Right. AND…”

“AND you thought you’d pay me a visit. Gloat about being able to use magic, and test out a few curses on the unsuspecting Golden Boy of Hogwarts. Is that it?”

“You know, Potter, you’re not as dense as you look.”

Harry ignored the comment and fingered the wand in his side pocket. “So you thought you’d take me by surprise?” He spoke more confidently than he felt, an undertone of tense anxiety just barely decipherable. Draco noticed it, and seemed to draw on it; his excitement rising as he favored his rival with an amused look. They both knew that Harry was underage and that he wouldn’t dare risk expulsion for a measly duel. Inspiration hit the young Malfoy as he scrutinized the boy before him, modestly swollen lips and disheveled hair left over from the assault only moments ago. He realized that magic wasn’t the only way to get back at the famous Harry Potter.

Draco smirked, tilting his head almost playfully. “Take you...” He said in a silky voice, stealing soft steps toward the other. He paused for a moment his eyes meeting his rival’s before lowering to slowly scour his body. Ever inch of his frame was well curved into lightly toned muscle, a nicely sculpted chest leading into a deliciously tantalizing pack of semi-molded abs. The young Slytherin appreciated the view that Harry’s open shorts gave him, below the navel and down the line of his happy trail. Draco couldn’t help but laugh to himself, knowing that the naïve boy before him had no idea how sexy he looked, practically teasing the blonde the way he held his shorts so loosely. After running his eyes back up his luscious build, Draco met his eyes again, licking his lips hungrily. A half-naked Harry made for a very tempting treat.

Harry gulped hard, flushed from the ravenous gaze. Ravenous? No, no. He must have misinterpreted it. Malfoy was his sworn enemy, the Prince of Slytherin for Godric’s sake! But he was steadily moving closer, with a look of desire that maintained just the opposite. It made Harry feel like captured prey. His cheeks were soon stained with a light shade of crimson. His heartbeat quickened and he could feel it pounding in his chest. And as he stood, now inches from the other, he could feel hot breath against his own lips.

Draco lifted his hands and unhurriedly stroked Potter’s cheeks, lips brushing with a feather light caress. His fingers filtered through raven locks, massaging tenderly in a gesture that made the other boy shiver with nervous delight. “Surprise.” He whispered.. A faint rumbling sounded nearby, taking Harry’s attention as Draco swooped in for the kill… and missed entirely. Harry had stepped to the side, moving toward the source of the disturbance and Draco barely had time to think before he stumbled forward onto the ground. He blinked, unsteady for a moment before regaining his composure, a glare aimed at Harry. That wasn’t part of the plan.

Harry was too distracted to notice. He seemed to already have forgotten the incident gripped by the situation at hand. His eyes swept the surrounding area, flickering from the wood shed, to Aunt Petunia’s garden, over the neighbor’s cat, past Dudley and onto the street where he saw… Uncle Vernon’s car. Harry’s heart lurched as he stared dumbly down the road. He watched Mr. Dursley’s little car as it turned the corner onto Privet Drive. “He’s home already?” Harry panicked. He glanced at Dudley, still lying on the grass, and still out cold.

Draco realized Harry’s distress and followed his gaze to the approaching vehicle. He wasn’t happy about the unwanted interruption, and he wanted recompense. The corners of his lips twisted mischievously as he raised his wand slightly. When Harry took hold of his wrist, he grimaced. “What?”

“Are you mad? You can’t hex Uncle Vernon.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m the one who has to deal with the consequences. He absolutely hates magic folk.” Harry looked at Malfoy, who was way too calm for comfort. “Don’t look so relaxed! Merlin, if he finds you here, he’ll be furious.”

At that, Draco smirked. “Who said he’d find me?” Harry gave him a confused look as he pointed his wand at the open upstairs window and shouted “Accio invisibility cloak.” A silvery shroud whipped through the air and into Draco’s free hand. And as if this was nothing out of the ordinary, he shook it open without a word and tossed it around his shoulders.

“How did you..” Harry began as he disappeared underneath it. But the loud slam of the car door made him jump. He hadn’t noticed the automobile pulling into the driveway, but a strangled cry gave him the idea that his uncle had indeed seen Dudley. He spun around to face him. Uncle Vernon was kneeling at his cousin’s side, his purple face a mixture of shock and anger.

“My boy…” he rasped. “My boy.. What has he..” Mr. Dursley took deep, heavy breaths. “You..” he hissed, rising slowly, one stubby accusing finger pointed at Harry. “This is YOUR fault.”

Panic-stricken, Harry considered running. But he’d have to come back sooner or later, and the punishment would most definitely be worse. He didn’t have trouble with this decision, because he found it very difficult to move any part of his body, let alone his legs, he was so terrified. He had never seen Uncle Vernon so angry. Except for the time when Harry lost a game of Wizard’s chess to Hedwig and his pieces went on strike. The queen and her knights had chased him, along with the Dursleys, into the wood shed and tied them to the beams with every intention of burning them all alive. Thankfully, Harry was able to talk them out of it, despite protests from the pawns, who seemed to think that Dudley’s bulk could feed them for a lifetime. The rebellion lasted for three days before they came to an agreement, which freed them from the shed, but had Harry locked in his room for a month. No, Harry thought, relieved to some extent. He couldn’t be that angry… yet.

He focused again on Uncle Vernon, who was surveying him hastily, eyes flickering from Dudley to himself, low on their persons. His apprehension rose as ealiealized that he was still gripping onto his open slacks. Mr. Dursley seemed to grasp this too, and along with Dudley’s comatose form, flesh exposed through the busted flaps of his own trousers, the situation would surely seem peculiar. Uncle Vernon seized Harry’s arm, and by the look on his face he had put two and two together. He was livid, and Harry regretted hanging around instead of bolting at the first sight of his uncle’s return to Privet Drive.

“You nasty boy!” Uncle Vernon roared. “You nasty, nasty boy! I always knew your kind were a foul bunch.”

Harry was baffled. “I don’t under…” He gasped sharply as Mr. Dursley tightened his vice-like grip. Harry had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. He heard a light sle ile in the grass behind him and shook his head briskly, hoping that Malfoy would take the hint. He didn’t need more trouble.

“Don’t lie to me, boy!” Mr. Dursley spat, shaking his nephew furiously until he saw movement beside him. Dudley sat up clutching his forehead, and he rushed over, letting Harry drop onto the grass.

“Oh, Dudders! What did that vile boy do to you? Come now, Dudley, tell daddy everything.”

Dudley blinked, looking from his father to Harry as he worked out the situation. He couldn’t very well tell the truth, but at the same time he felt it very difficult to lie. But why? He did it all the time, and this time was no different, was it? But this time, he was disgusted beyond belief, and at himself no less. He wished he didn’t have to say anything at all. He knew Harry wouldn’t tell anyone, either. And if he did, no one would believe him. He saw his cousin look at him earnestly, but brushed it off, leaving his reservations behind.

Harry didn’t think Dudley would stoop so low, but as his cousin’s expression transformed into his usual act of innocence, he knew that he shouldn’t have expected anything better. Duddropdropped his face into his hands dramatically and sobbed loudly. “He-he-he attacked me! And, and..” He stopped abruptly, making weeping noises, as if he couldn’t bare to say more.

Mr. Dursley patted him on the back and whispered words of comfort, as he glared strongly at Harry. “Its okay, Dudley-kins. Its alright. Did he… Did he touch you?” Harry couldn’t believe his ears. Touch…him? This was wrong. This was all wrong. Harry hadn’t done anything. Why, he would never.. His mouth hung open in alarm. Stunned to silence, all he could do was await Dudley’s answer. Dudley looked surprised too, not having considered this alternative.

But Dudley had been given the easy way out. The perfect excuse lay right there in front of him and all he had to do was embrace it. But why did it feel so wrong? He turned his eyes away from Harry, not bearing to look at him as he replied. “Y-yes…” He said, in a barely audible whisper. “He k-kissed me. And then he… t-touched me..” A lump placed itself securely in his throat and he was thankful for an excuse not to speak. He looked up at Harry and saw the horror and disbelief mingling in his appearance, and to his own dismay, he felt absolutely dreadful. But it was too late for regrets. He couldn’t take it back now. And no matter how much Harry protested, Uncle Vernon would never take his word over Dudley’s.

Mr. Dursley looked at him too. Rage overtaking him, he fizzed “Its okay, Dudders. You don’t have to say anymore. He can’t hurt you now.” He whirled towards Harry, who tried to clamber away. “Oh no, you don’t.” Snarled Mr. Dursley as he snatched the back of the boy’s neck, hauling him to his feet. “I’ll teach you to mess with my boy.” Harry was dragged violently into the house. “You’re all alike…” Uncle Vernon was saying, but Harry barely registered the malicious insults and vehement threats of bodily harm. He didn’t know if he could believe what had just happened. “Disgusting…” he heard his uncle grumble as they by-passed the stairs. Harry’s heart sank. If they weren’t going to his room then that meant… “a few weeks in the cupboard ought to slap some sense into you.” And immediately, Harry was propelled into the tiny room. He lay on his back, coughing from the dust that had arisen. He caught a brief glimpse of Uncle Vernon’s form before the door slammed shut. Spiders fell from the ceiling as the lock clicked into place, and he eyed one that had fallen onto the tip of his nose.

“Hope you don’t mind.” He said to it. “I may be staying for a while.”



 
**Sorry, people! That was such a tease, huh? I sooo wanted to put a hot, sweaty scene in there, but I figured that Harry’s had enough excitement for one afternoon. Of course, Dudley is an entirely different story… hee hee. A nice tasty treat awaits you in the next chapter, I promise! ^_~

PS - The author kindly begs on her slash-lovin knees that you review. ^O^ Please? o.O Until next time!