Draco's Escort Service

Chapter Three

Harry reluctantly moved over and stood behind Malfoy. Frankly, the idea of being so close to Draco was almost worse than the thought of facing whatever lurked below.

The brooms rose and Harry found himself gripping Malfoy gingerly on the shoulders for balance.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Potter, or we’re both dead,” Malfoy said dryly. The taunt in his voice geared Harry into action more than the words. He swore and shifted himself forward until he was pressed tightly against Malfoy’s back and Draco’s thighs rested atop his. He shifted his hands down to hold Draco’s waist. Thankfully, Malfoy kept his patented commentary to himself, for once, and they started across the yawning chasm.

It was a nightmare beyond belief. Within moments, a tangible force had tried to yank them into the depths. Harry and Malfoy strained to keep the brooms aloft and on course. They were suddenly released and shot upwards. Before they could recover, they were tossed sideways and spun in a dizzying circle.

Harry found his arms wrapped tightly around Draco’s waist as he clung to the Slytherin like a baby koala. His face pressed hard against the back of Malfoy’s neck. He could feel every shift of Draco’s weight, thankfully, for he could anticipate his movements.

They pulled out of the spin and then Draco sent them in a looping, high speed circle that he suddenly halted. They plunged straight downward. The malevolent force seemed just as surprised as Harry, who felt the pressure against them release for the barest instant. Harry lent his strength to Malfoy, suddenly trusting him implicitly. Draco responded by launching the brooms upward toward the canyon lip at a speed faster than Harry had ever flown.

They hurtled out of the chasm and Harry felt a tangible cloud of frustrated rage follow them. They blasted over the trees and then Harry was shocked by the feeling of weightlessness. They began to fall, still traveling incredibly fast.

Draco snatched out his wand and managed to cast a spell before they slammed into the trees. They stopped as if crashing into a snow bank, jarring, but not painful until they hit the ground.

Harry and Malfoy landed side by side and lay still for a stunned moment. Harry trembled with exertion and dripped with sweat. He closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath. He heard the labored panting of Malfoy.

“Potter?” Draco said after their breathing had nearly returned to normal. Harry opened his eyes and looked at the treetops visible above and the stars beyond.

“Yeah?”

“You’re on my hair.”

The words jolted Harry with the knowledge that he was still disagreeably close to Malfoy. Their heads were touching and Malfoy’s silvery hair was trapped beneath Harry’s head. Malfoy’s cloak was bunched under Harry’s back. He quickly rolled over and staggered to his feet. Malfoy got up slowly.

“You untie the brooms while I figure out where we are,” Malfoy ordered as he dusted himself off fastidiously. Harry’s eyes narrowed at the tone of command. Draco caught the look and smirked at him—the first time Harry had seen the familiar expression in years.

“Unless you want to ride with me some more?” Malfoy drawled suggestively.

“Arsehole,” Harry muttered and started working on the knots while Malfoy disappeared into the trees.

ooOoo

Draco walked carefully into the forest, taking care to note his path in order to retrace his steps. He didn’t sense any danger—leaving the chasm had apparently taken care of the threat. He hoped to find a decent clearing so they could camp for the night. The trip across the canyon had exhausted him. Draco’s day had been busy long before he met up with Potter.

A soft sound caused him to freeze. He turned and cast a bright light spell with his wand. A girl stood nearby, leaning against a tree. She didn’t flinch at the light. She wore the merest slip of a green dress. Her hair was honey-brown and looped down to her slender waist. A smile curved her lips; the color of red currants.

“Hi, handsome,” she purred. Draco did not relax. It was beyond suspicious to find a delicate-looking maiden lurking in the forest in the middle of the night. She pushed herself away from the tree.

“Hello,” Draco said warily. “Who are you?”

“I am Betula,” she said and halted. “Come here so I can see you better.”

Draco stepped closer, holding his light high.

She smiled. “You are handsome! Why are you here?”

“Just passing through. I’m looking for a place to camp, at the moment.”

“You can rest with me,” she offered and held her arms open as if to welcome his embrace. “Come. Kiss me.”

Draco felt an overwhelming compulsion to do just that. He fought it.

“Just let me build a quick fire and I’ll stay awhile,” he said quietly. She shrank back with a gasp.

“Oh no! You mustn’t! No fire.”

Draco chuckled. “Dryad.”

Betula stamped a bare foot and gave him a pretty pout. “No kiss?” she asked.

“Definitely no kiss,” he replied flatly. He relaxed and dimmed his wand slightly. She was no danger as long as he stayed away from the circle of her tree. “Are you the most dangerous creature in this forest?”

She paced on a vaguely curved path a short distance from the tree trunk. “I’m not dangerous at all, handsome. Come here and I’ll show you.”

“No thanks. You won’t tell me anything about this place?”

“No.” Betula was petulant.

“All right. Goodbye, dryad.” He turned and started away.

“Wait!” she cried. Draco suppressed a smile as he turned to look back. “Deeper in the forest, take care to eat and drink nothing you find there.”

“My thanks, Betula. That bit of advice is nearly worth a kiss. Nearly.”

“Maybe you’ll come back someday?”

“If I ever get the urge to be eternally trapped in a tree, you can count on it.”

He blew her a kiss and went back to Potter, who was slumped on the ground like the very picture of exhaustion and despair. Draco’s eyes narrowed as he critically examined Potter. He was paler than Draco had ever seen him and almost too thin. He needed to eat and get some rest or he’d likely pass out. The present locale was far too enclosed, rocky… and close to dryads.

Harry seemed to sense his presence and the dark head snapped up. Potter got to his feet quickly.

“We need to move on a bit,” Draco said.

“Can we fly?”

“No. Couldn’t you tell when we fell? This forest nullifies flight. We’ll have to walk out.”

Potter made no comment. He just nodded and slung on sword and pack, and picked up his broom. Draco did the same, sans sword.

He led Potter back toward the dryad tree, intending to pass through and beyond. A girl suddenly appeared in front of Potter and snagged him in an embrace. Her hair was vibrantly red and her body was lithe and beautiful.

“I’m Ilex,” she purred. “What’s your hurry?”

“Don’t kiss her unless you feel like growing a trunk and leaves,” Draco warned, but Potter had already recoiled. Poor Dryad—red probably hadn’t been the best choice to use on Potter. “In fact, it’s probably a good idea not to kiss anything in this forest.”

“No fair, handsome!” Betula called from behind them. “You didn’t tell me there were two of you!”

Draco tucked away his wand for a moment, plunging them into darkness, and reached back to grab Harry’s wrist. He pulled Potter away from the red-haired dryad.

“You can let go now,” Potter said after a few steps.

Draco released him and retrieved his wand. He cast another Lumos and led Potter on a circuitous route past the trees. They avoided more dryads in that fashion.