It's Never Two-Sided
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
6,399
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
6,399
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Two Unknowns Make the Equation Interesting
Warnings: None, really, which for some is a warning in and of itself...
AN: Okay, it's a little short, but the next one'slonger and more interesting. (I think... lemme check... alright, not too much longer, but definitely more interesting. Yay.
Review replies in reviews. As Always and Forever More.
And, since the masses did NOT clamor, I'm posting once a week. Tuesdays. Double Yay.
Chapter Two: Two Unknowns Make the Equation Interesting
She spent most of the time left memorizing the marks and scars on Draco Malfoy's back.
They weren't fresh. There wasn't even any bruising, which was why it hadn't been until she'd actually looked that she'd realized anything was there. Judging by their depth and color, Halle would guess that they were several months old at the youngest, and almost a year at the oldest. Considering when she'd taken the hair, that meant that he'd gotten them over the previous summer. Why? If you wanted to make a child obey you by force, you started when they were little, not when they were almost grown up; at least that was Halle's experience. It made no sense; and this was a severe beating, not something you started people on, unless you were going for outright torture.
Halle contemplated all of this as she watched her back morph back into her back. The scars were gone—well, Malfoy's were. She had a few scratches of her own that she'd acquired over the years, but the only one that compared was the one on her right arm, from which she'd guessed the ages of Malfoy's.
Glancing at the clock, she decided that she wouldn't be getting any studying done that night. She put her school stuff in a neat pile under her bed, slipped her pajamas back on, braided her hair, and put the hinges to rights. Slipping into bed, she did her best to clear her mind, then went to sleep, forgetting to check if her breasts had come back in fully.
~*~
The next morning, Halle woke to a fierce banging on the door of her room.
“I'll get up!” she shouted at Aunt Petunia, grabbing around the bedside table for her glasses. Once she'd pushed them onto her nose, she slipped out of the warmth of her bed, and tried the door. It was locked. “I can't cook breakfast if you don't let me out!” she yelled through the door, irate at being woken at... three in the morning?
“Child, we're taking you away, so you'd best do whatever you did last night so's we can go,” a familiar voice replied. It wasn't Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia was away at a beach somewhere. This voice brought memories of cabbage smells and cats with surnames.
“Mrs. Figg?”
“Yes. And hurry it up, Mr. Tibbles says we need to be out by dawn.”
“Okay, just a minute,” Halle called back. “Let me get my stuff together first.” She scrambled to get her schoolwork from under the bed, and tucked the vial of Malfoy-juice into her waistband, which she'd shrunk to fit at Hogwarts. She pulled the few clothes she had in the room together in a pile on the bed, let Hedwig out, telling the owl to wait for instructions outside, and then set to work on the hinges.
They came out easier this time, and soon Mrs. Figg was helping her push the door and taking the small armful of clothes from her.
“Your trunk?” the tartan-slippered woman asked.
“Downstairs,” Halle replied as she squeezed herself and her books through.
“Thank merlin.”
They went downstairs, where Halle opened the lock on the cupboard and pulled her trunk out. The clothes and schoolbooks were shoves in unceremoniously, but Halle insisted on treating the ink pots with more care, and slipped the vial back in as well. Mrs. Figg didn't seem to notice.
“That's it?”
“Yeah, I'll get another owl cage later.”
Halle lugged the trunk outside, where she saw Hedwig again, and asked where they were going.
“Dumbledore wants to talk to you, then you'll be taken to the Burrow.”
“Alright,” Halle said, nodding at Hedwig. The owl took off, and they called the Knight Bus. They arrived at Hogwarts just as day broke.
~*~
It was midnight before Dumbledore was done with her. They'd convinced Horace Slughorn to return and teach Potions, and, genial though the man was, Halle found herself keeping her distance. He had no real clue who she was, and yet he seemed to treat her as if they'd know each other their entire lives, which was disconcerting, and Halle was glad to finally see the concoction that was the Weasley household.
Even if her best friend Ron would be away until the end of the week.
******
Alright, I'm getting lonely here, and college is doing its best to kick my ass (it got in a few good punches, but I'm still standing) so reviews (and criticisms, I'm not picky) would be loved, cherished, and held true to until death do us part... eh, you get the idea. I write for myself, but I post for you, so letting me know you're there would be great!
AN: Okay, it's a little short, but the next one'slonger and more interesting. (I think... lemme check... alright, not too much longer, but definitely more interesting. Yay.
Review replies in reviews. As Always and Forever More.
And, since the masses did NOT clamor, I'm posting once a week. Tuesdays. Double Yay.
Chapter Two: Two Unknowns Make the Equation Interesting
She spent most of the time left memorizing the marks and scars on Draco Malfoy's back.
They weren't fresh. There wasn't even any bruising, which was why it hadn't been until she'd actually looked that she'd realized anything was there. Judging by their depth and color, Halle would guess that they were several months old at the youngest, and almost a year at the oldest. Considering when she'd taken the hair, that meant that he'd gotten them over the previous summer. Why? If you wanted to make a child obey you by force, you started when they were little, not when they were almost grown up; at least that was Halle's experience. It made no sense; and this was a severe beating, not something you started people on, unless you were going for outright torture.
Halle contemplated all of this as she watched her back morph back into her back. The scars were gone—well, Malfoy's were. She had a few scratches of her own that she'd acquired over the years, but the only one that compared was the one on her right arm, from which she'd guessed the ages of Malfoy's.
Glancing at the clock, she decided that she wouldn't be getting any studying done that night. She put her school stuff in a neat pile under her bed, slipped her pajamas back on, braided her hair, and put the hinges to rights. Slipping into bed, she did her best to clear her mind, then went to sleep, forgetting to check if her breasts had come back in fully.
~*~
The next morning, Halle woke to a fierce banging on the door of her room.
“I'll get up!” she shouted at Aunt Petunia, grabbing around the bedside table for her glasses. Once she'd pushed them onto her nose, she slipped out of the warmth of her bed, and tried the door. It was locked. “I can't cook breakfast if you don't let me out!” she yelled through the door, irate at being woken at... three in the morning?
“Child, we're taking you away, so you'd best do whatever you did last night so's we can go,” a familiar voice replied. It wasn't Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia was away at a beach somewhere. This voice brought memories of cabbage smells and cats with surnames.
“Mrs. Figg?”
“Yes. And hurry it up, Mr. Tibbles says we need to be out by dawn.”
“Okay, just a minute,” Halle called back. “Let me get my stuff together first.” She scrambled to get her schoolwork from under the bed, and tucked the vial of Malfoy-juice into her waistband, which she'd shrunk to fit at Hogwarts. She pulled the few clothes she had in the room together in a pile on the bed, let Hedwig out, telling the owl to wait for instructions outside, and then set to work on the hinges.
They came out easier this time, and soon Mrs. Figg was helping her push the door and taking the small armful of clothes from her.
“Your trunk?” the tartan-slippered woman asked.
“Downstairs,” Halle replied as she squeezed herself and her books through.
“Thank merlin.”
They went downstairs, where Halle opened the lock on the cupboard and pulled her trunk out. The clothes and schoolbooks were shoves in unceremoniously, but Halle insisted on treating the ink pots with more care, and slipped the vial back in as well. Mrs. Figg didn't seem to notice.
“That's it?”
“Yeah, I'll get another owl cage later.”
Halle lugged the trunk outside, where she saw Hedwig again, and asked where they were going.
“Dumbledore wants to talk to you, then you'll be taken to the Burrow.”
“Alright,” Halle said, nodding at Hedwig. The owl took off, and they called the Knight Bus. They arrived at Hogwarts just as day broke.
~*~
It was midnight before Dumbledore was done with her. They'd convinced Horace Slughorn to return and teach Potions, and, genial though the man was, Halle found herself keeping her distance. He had no real clue who she was, and yet he seemed to treat her as if they'd know each other their entire lives, which was disconcerting, and Halle was glad to finally see the concoction that was the Weasley household.
Even if her best friend Ron would be away until the end of the week.
******
Alright, I'm getting lonely here, and college is doing its best to kick my ass (it got in a few good punches, but I'm still standing) so reviews (and criticisms, I'm not picky) would be loved, cherished, and held true to until death do us part... eh, you get the idea. I write for myself, but I post for you, so letting me know you're there would be great!