To Steal Time

“To Steal Time”
By Stacy Galore

Chapter 3: A Memory Returned

What happened to Astoria must have struck a chord with the headmaster, for he addressed the school at a special assembly the next morning on the subject of safety and vigilance. He suggested that the students travel around the castle and the school grounds in groups of at least three people. This was simple enough for Astoria to follow – she wouldn’t make the same mistake of walking alone anymore after what happened the last two times she foolishly did so. Thus it came as even more of a surprise when it happened for the third time, despite the fact that she heeded Professor Snape’s recommendation and walked to another Arithmancy tutoring session with two people. It was right after dinner. Pansy and Theodore were supposed to walk her to Professor Vector’s office, but Millicent needed a third person to go to the library with. So Draco grudgingly came along to escort Astoria at Theodore’s request. The three of them had turned the corner to enter the deserted corridor housing the Arithmancy professor’s office. The next thing she knew, Astoria was outside, lying on a field, in the blackness of an evening rainstorm, vulnerably alone and frozen with terror. She didn’t need to look at her watch to know it was much later than six o’clock.

She pushed her drenched hair out of her face and stood up slowly to get her bearings. In the flash of lightning, she could see quidditch hoops shining at the end of the pitch. How on earth did she get all the way here? Frightened, and at the same time angry, she stomped out of the field towards the castle. She was soaking wet, her thick robes heavy with rain, hindering her determination to get back to a populated area quickly. There was a secret passageway at the foot of the hill just up ahead that lead directly into the dungeon. Only a select few Slytherins knew about this passageway and Astoria was grateful, for once, to be an acquaintance of its founder, Draco Malfoy. He wasn’t good for much more than his knowledge of secret ways in and out of Hogwarts. The girl clambered towards the rocky outcropping that hid the entrance of the tunnel, dragging her robes through the downpour, not caring about the mud that coated her shoes up to her ankles. As she drudged across the school grounds, her fear turned to triumph because she was quite certain that something similar must have happened to her escorts. She could hurl a triumphant ‘I told you so’ at Theodore.

It was just before curfew when Astoria entered the Slytherin common room, her drenched, disheveled appearance raising curious stares from her classmates. It was Friday, and the room was crowded with jubilant students, ready to begin their weekend exploits. She scanned the room from the entranceway, dripping and breathless, searching for Theodore and Draco. There they were – Draco was seated at a small table looking completely at ease as Theodore stood, leaning over the table threateningly, shouting at the other boy and seething with anger. “I thought you were done with that shit ages ago, Malfoy.” Astoria could hardly hear Draco’s retort, but could clearly make out the words forming on his lips, “I was bored.” She quickly approached the two and as she did so, she noticed neither seemed wet.

“What the hell just happened?” she spurted. The two boys jerked their heads towards Astoria, shocked at her appearance.

“What the fuck happened to you?” asked Draco.

“I was walking with you two just a few minutes ago and then, holy fuck, I’m outside on the Qudditch pitch, it’s pouring rain, and I’m completely alone. I repeat, what the hell just happened?” she asked, exasperated and livid.

“What are you talking about, Greengrass?” said Draco with a disbelieving quizzical look on his angular face. “We took you to Vector’s office after dinner. We even asked that she didn’t let you leave until we came back for you. And when we did, the office was locked. There was nobody there. Isn’t that right, Theodore?” He turned back to the dark-haired boy and stared intently at him.

Theodore paused, glaring silently at Draco before speaking in a slow, bitterly coerced manner, “Yes. That’s right.”

Astoria suddenly realized that she just had a direct conversation with Draco Malfoy. He didn’t speak to her through Theodore; he spoke right at her. This, coupled with the unusually hostile way Theodore was behaving towards Draco, tipped her off that something wasn’t right.

“What were you two going on about just before I came?” Astoria asked suspiciously.

“Chess,” Draco said confidently, staring fixedly at Theodore. “Your boyfriend is a sore loser.” She was not convinced. Of the chess part, that is. She knew what an awful sore loser Theodore could be.

Theodore looked down as if just realizing they were at a chess table and then motioned towards Astoria, “Come, darling. Let’s get you dry. You must be freezing.” He led her out of the common room and into the boys’ dormitories. Since it was the weekend, the rules were relaxed, not that the head of Slytherin house really did much to enforce them anyway. Astoria was so frazzled she hadn’t realized how cold and exhausted she was. Theodore’s room was empty – his roommates were either in the common room or in the girls’ dorms with their better halves. He performed a quick-drying spell and then sat his tired girlfriend on the bed. “What happened, Tori?” he asked with gentle concern.

She was numb at this point. Not just from the cold, but from everything. She didn’t know who to trust or what to believe. Losing time was maddening. And draining. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” She stripped off her robes lazily with a distant stare as Theo helped her. She was so tired that she barely noticed the renewed sores encircling her wrists and ankles. She lay down in her underwear on the bed and curled up into a ball, burying her face in Theodore’s black, satin pillow. It smelled like his hair gel, like pear brandy. He disrobed down to his form-fitting, white cotton t-shirt and black briefs, drew the curtains around his bed, uttering, “Nox,” before cuddling up behind Astoria. He put his lip to her ear as he pulled her closer with his arms and whispered, “I won’t let anybody hurt you, I promise.” She wanted so badly to believe it, as Theodore’s warmth encompassed her, but just couldn’t. The sinking feeling that Theodore and Draco had something to do with the strange happenings plagued her mind until she fell uneasily into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Astoria woke up before Theodore. She put on his bathrobe, which was draped over the bedpost, grabbed her clothes, and slipped through the curtains to find the room still empty. The other beds lay bare with the curtains open. She smirked and said to herself, “Looks like the boys got lucky last night.” It was much too early for any right-minded Slytherin to be awake on a Saturday morning. The common room was deserted, save for a couple who had fallen asleep on the chaise lounge. She crept silently into the girls’ dorms, into her room, and back into bed. She wasn’t quite ready to start her day either. She lifted her pillow to take out her diary and found an ornate glass vial perched on top of it. It rolled down onto the bed and it’s liquid silver contents swirled within. She picked it up and inspected it, uncertain of what it was. A potion, perhaps? It certainly wasn’t hers. She put it aside and opened her diary. Inside the front cover was a slip of parchment, and on it, written with red, splotchy ink, were the words, “To Astoria: A Memory”.

She leapt from her bed and ran across the corridor to the seventh-years’ room. She tiptoed up to Pansy’s bed, which still had the curtains drawn. Astoria knew from the fact that Theodore’s bedroom had been otherwise empty when she left it that Draco was most likely in Pansy’s bed. Rather than wake up the sleeping couple herself, or Millicent and Vincent for that matter, she decided to rouse Tracey Davis, who, as far as she knew, never took boys to her bed. She startled the girl when she slid onto her bed, but put her finger to her lips to silence her. “Tracy, I need you to do me a favor. I will give you anything you want if you do this for me. Wake up Pansy and tell her to meet me in the bathroom.”

“Now?” Tracey asked sleepily. Astoria nodded. Tracey rolled her heavy eyes and stumbled out of bed. Astoria silently ran out of the room and waited in the girls’ bathroom with the glass vial clutched tightly in her sweaty palm.

“What the hell is that?” Pansy asked, her voice rough with sleep, as she eyed the vial ruefully for inciting Astoria to summon her to view it at such an ungodly hour.

“A memory. Somebody left it in my room,” she replied, excited by the prospect of perhaps unlocking the mystery of her lost time.

“So?” Pansy groaned.

“So, let’s look at it,” said Astoria excitedly.

Pansy rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and yawned as she asked, “How?”

“We need a pensieve.”

Pansy intoned with a raspy, sing-song-y voice heavily laden with sarcasm as she shuffled towards the door, “Sorry, I’m clean out of pensieves at the moment.”

“Professor Snape has one in his office. I’m sure of it. I saw it when he tried to extract my memory.”

“So go ask him, then,” Pansy said over her shoulder as she made her way slowly though the bathroom door.

Astoria stopped her from leaving with her hand on her arm. “Pans, I can’t just go waltzing up to the Headmaster and say, hey, mind if I use your pensieve for a moment?”

“Oh, and I suppose you think I can,” Pansy scoffed.

“Yes, Pansy. He lets you get away with murder. You’re like his new pet or something. Snape loves you.” Flattery went a long way with her friend.

Pansy blushed and looked smugly. “Well, I guess Severus Snape is my bitch. I’ll see what I can do.”


Professor Snape was reluctant to let Astoria view the memory alone, without his supervision. But he also knew that, if the memory were indeed hers, she was entitled to privacy. He left them in the office and retreated to the adjacent study. Astoria poured the contents of the glass vial into the pensieve. It shimmered and swirled in the stone basin. She suddenly felt afraid to face the truth and grasped Pansy’s hand. “I want you to watch it with me,” she said in a nervous whisper.

“Are you sure?” Pansy didn’t really appear hesitant; in fact, she looked intrigued.

Astoria sighed, “I don’t think I could handle it alone if it turns out bad.”

Soon, they were falling into the pensieve, floating into the memory, and watching, as if viewing a film, but through the camera eye itself. Astoria’s vision was blurry at first – a fuzzy form in the vague shape of a pale human was before her. Once the vision cleared, it was apparent that Draco Malfoy was standing there, smirking down with a self-satisfied grin. But he looked younger, perhaps fifth or sixth year, his features not quite so sharp as she knew them to be now.

“Draco?” issued a male voice from within her vantage point. “What happened? Where am I?” It was Theodore’s voice. This was not Astoria’s memory. It was his. “I was just walking back from Astoria’s room a second ago,” he declared as he surveyed his surroundings. He appeared to be in the changing room beside the Quidditch pitch. “How the hell did I get here?”

Astoria could not only see what Theodore was seeing, but feel what he was experiencing and think what he was thinking. It wasn’t quite like re-living the moment, but more akin to inhabiting his body. Theodore was confused and a bit sleepy, as if he were drunk. He made a motion to move from his position and found that he was bound to a wooden beam that rose from the floor to the vaulted ceiling. He was standing, his hands were tied behind his back and his ankles were tethered together and fixed to the beam with rope. “What the fuck is going on, Malfoy?”

Draco smiled mischievously and drawled, “Sorry, Theo. It was the only way.” There was something about the evil gleam in Malfoy’s eye that made Theodore panic.

“Fucking hell, Draco. This isn’t funny. Untie me, you prat.”

Malfoy didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at Theodore with the most unusual look on his fair countenance. It was the look of a wicked imp, eager to commit mischief. There was a sparkle in his grey eyes that could only be described as desire. Wait, a minute . . . desire? Draco placed his hands on Theodore’s shoulders, not in a friendly way, but in a predatory way, and continued to stare him down silently, his eyes burning deep into Theodore. He’d never seen his friend look so demonic and it unsettled him.

“What are you doing, Malfoy?” Theodore asked with a nervous twitch to his haughty voice. Draco slid his hand down off his shoulder, gently resting the tips of his fingers on Theodore’s chest, all the while, never breaking his desirous gaze. Astoria could feel Theodore’s pulse flutter before speeding to a gallop. His mouth was dry with tense anticipation and awkwardness – he’d never been this intimately close to Draco before. “Seriously, Draco. What are you doing?” Theodore asked again uneasily.

Draco slowly closed the already discomfortingly small distance between their faces, brushing Theodore’s cheek with his own, letting his lips come to a gentle halt at his ear. “You’ve wanted this for a very long time,” Draco said in low drawl, his hot breath making the hair on the back of Theodore’s neck raise with both alarm and involuntary excitement.

Theodore spoke both calmly and forcefully like a foul-mouthed, incensed prince, “Malfoy, you untie me right now, you motherfucking ponce, or I swear to Merlin, I’ll . . .”

As Theodore was spurting threats he was unable to carry out, due to the fact that he was bound and wandless, Draco was tracing his fingers slowly down his chest and breathing into his neck. “Don’t fight it. You know you want it.”

“Get your fucking hands off me, Draco. I’m going to pummel you into the ground, I swear to fucking god,” Theodore said through gritted teeth, still not raising his voice.

Draco whispered wantonly into his neck, “Promise?” as his fingers gently fell to Theodore’s belt buckle.

This inflamed Theodore. “Cut it out, Malfoy! Now! It isn’t funny!”

Draco began to unbuckle Theodore’s belt, causing the boy to struggle uselessly against his bindings. “What are you doing? Stop it. Seriously, mate. This joke isn’t funny in the least,” Theodore protested with a panicky quiver to his voice. Draco swiftly unbuttoned Theodore’s trousers and then yanked them down to his ankles. “Not fucking funny, Malfoy.” Astoria could feel a heat rise within Theodore’s body as both fearful apprehension and anticipation crept up his spine in the most confusing juxtaposition of emotions. Draco put his hands on Theodore’s waist and gave him one last eager, piercing stare before dropping to his knees. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Theodore spat condescendingly as his heartbeat raced, threatening to burst forth from his chest.

Draco looked up at him with a wicked smirk and replied smugly, “Giving you what you’ve been wanting for years.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Theodore asked defensively.

“Relax, Theodore. It’s going to be OK,” Draco said with the soothing tone of an alluring predator as he pulled down Theodore’s underwear and then smiled victoriously at what he found beneath. He gave a low, closed-lipped chuckle and said, “I thought so.”

Theodore was a little more than half hard and utterly humiliated. “Sod off, Malfoy,” he said meekly, his voice cracking. Astoria could sense a shameful, deep longing overwhelming Theodore and felt a pang of pity for him. Then she caught herself, realizing that this was her boyfriend’s emotion’s she was experiencing, and became slightly resentful. She watched Draco take the base of Theodore’s cock into his hand and guide it to his mouth. He enveloped it hungrily with his lips and Theodore’s body responded with sheer delight. As Draco moved expertly over Theodore’s rapidly growing erection, Astoria’s feelings of resentment soon turned into feelings of absolute betrayal. She could feel his pleasure, his disgrace, and the devastating realization that, yes, he had indeed been secretly yearning for this for a very long time. She was mortified, but could not remove her face from the pensieve. It was oddly riveting to experience oral sex from her boyfriend’s point of view.

Theodore sighed, “I fucking hate you, Draco. Oh, god, I fucking hate you so much.” But by the way he spoke so wantonly, it sounded like ‘hate’ should have been replaced with its antonym.

Draco sucked Theodore’s cock with the fervor of a demon, holding it at its base and swathing it adoringly with his mouth, moving along the engorged shaft with calculated precision, teasing every ridge with his tongue. Theodore clamped his eyes shut, unwilling to believe that his best mate was sucking him off and that he was honestly and thoroughly enjoying it. He hazarded a peek and nearly lost it. The sight of the white-blonde head bowing down at his crotch, worshiping his cock with his lips, was so unbelievably arousing. This was the head of the boy who he grew up with, the head that rested in the bed across from Theodore’s for over five years, the same head of hair he ruffled during playful wrestling matches, the very same head he would smack with an open palm when stupid things uttered forth from it. But the fact that this fair-haired head belonged to none other than Draco Malfoy, the godlike epicenter of all that was Slytherin and pure, and that this head was bobbing up and down on his cock, was unbelievably empowering. It wasn’t long before he was releasing years of unspoken pent-up sexual tension into Draco’s mouth in short spurts, all the while moaning, “I hate you.” Draco swallowed enthusiastically and then sat back on the floor with a gloriously triumphant smile, propping himself up on his arms in a leisurely pose.

“Untie me now. I’m going to beat you to within an inch of your life,” Theodore said, breathless and panting, high on the sweet delirium of orgasm.

Draco swished his wand and the ropes unraveled, unleashing the other boy. Theodore hastily pulled up his trousers and then flew upon Draco, grabbing fistfuls of his sweater as he knocked him flat on his back. Theodore growled, “You’re so fucking dead, Malfoy.” But instead of pummeling him into the ground with his fists as he had promised, Theodore kissed Draco ardently, almost spitefully, on the lips. Theodore released his grip on Draco’s sweater, redirecting his grasp onto his blonde hair – that magnificently smooth, platinum hair he envied so much. Draco moaned into Theodore’s open mouth as he laced his fingers around the back of his neck. They kissed feverishly, tongues entwining and lips engulfing relentlessly, disregarding the whole notion of how wrong this was. Astoria watched, seething with jealousy, bitter that Theodore had never kissed her with this much passion.

With a swift motion, Draco turned Theodore onto his back and straddled him, taking control of the kiss. His kisses were hungry and feral, full of teeth and saliva. Theodore could feel Draco’s erection pressing against him through his trousers, renewing a whole other sensation of want. Then Draco sat up, perched upon the dark-haired boy, and quickly undid his own trousers. He pulled out his erection and held it tauntingly. It was longer by perhaps an inch or so, but Theodore didn’t feel envy – he felt an urgent need welling up inside. Draco’s cock was just as beautiful and regal as the boy himself, so smooth and perfect as if it were hewn from white marble. His pubic hair was so fine and light it was almost non-existent, giving Draco the appearance of being nubile. He was so hard that it looked painful – the pale skin pulled so tightly across the shaft that it had a slight sheen to it, revealing thick, engorged veins beneath, capillary beds so blood-filled that it tinged the flesh a burning rose color. He pumped it slowly, presenting it to Theodore to admire. “Do you want me, Theodore?” Draco asked seductively. Theodore nodded hesitantly. Draco moved forward so that he was straddling Theodore at the shoulders. He leaned over, supporting his upper body weight with one hand on the floor above Theodore’s head, and thrust his cock into the boy’s mouth. Theodore gagged and emitted a muffled protest, but then remembered to take the advice he often gave Astoria and did his best to breathe through his nose. As he caught his breath and the initial shock subsided, Theodore began to give in eagerly to the delicious excitement of this new sensation – the feel of Draco Malfoy’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth. He moaned around it, massaging it with his tongue and gripping it enthusiastically with his lips. He inhaled the subtle nuances of Draco’s scent, the sensual smell of his sweat and pre-ejaculate, and the faint trace of gardenia. It filled his head and made him dizzy with the thought that he was this close to Malfoy. He reached up and grasped Draco’s arse, urging him to go further. Theodore was fully erect again and began to stroke himself as Draco fucked his mouth. Then it ended as quickly and as explosively as it began, with a chorus of euphoric moans and grunts, as both boys came vigorously, Draco into Theodore’s mouth and Theodore onto his sweater. Draco tasted like everything at once: salty, sour, bitter, and sweet as Theodore let his come swirl over his tongue, unsure of what to do with it. There was no way he was going to swallow. As incredible as he made him feel, that was his limit. As soon as Draco dismounted him, Theodore turned and emptied his mouth onto the floor.

“That’s interesting,” began Draco, surveying him with an amused smirk, “I thought you were a swallower.”

Theodore made a sour face and said, “No fucking way. I’m no ponce.”

“Oh, no?” Draco challenged with a raised eyebrow. “You suck cock like a ponce. I doubt I was your first,” he said as he charmed his softening member clean and pulled up his pants.

“I told you, Malfoy. I’m no poofter. I’ve never done that before and I’ll never do it again.” Theodore stood up slowly, knowing he’d still be dizzy, performed the same cleaning charm on himself and fumbled to quickly return his appearance to the normal, well-put-together, aristocratic, straight boy.

“Wasn’t it good?” Draco said with a confident smile, as if he already knew Theodore’s answer.

Theodore sat on one of the long wooden benches in the changing room and slumped over, resting his hands on his knees, hanging his head low. He clamped his eyes shut, trying so hard to will away the feeling of utter bliss that was still lingering in him, then let out a long, deep sigh.

“Was it that horrible?” Draco laughed.

“It was bloody brilliant,” Theodore admitted, almost bitterly, as he looked up at his friend, unable to contain his smile any longer.

“Fucking amazing,” Draco corrected him with an equally satisfied grin. They both laughed. Theodore was still in disbelief and found the situation so outlandish that it was funny in a sick, twisted way. Draco sat next to him on the bench and took two cigarettes from his shirt pocket, lit them both with his wand, and gave one to Theodore. They smoked in silence for a while, letting the reality sink in.

“I’m not gay, OK?” insisted Theodore.

“OK,” said Draco, not convinced.

“Malfoy, I’m straight. I have a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, so? She never has to know about it.”

“Does Pansy know you do this?”

“You say it like you think I do this all the time.”

“Well do you?”

He replied as if it were nothing. “Not all the time, but . . . yeah. I’ve done it a bunch of times before.”

Theodore asked, feeling a little disappointed that he was not the only one, “With who?”

Casually, Draco asnwered, “With Blaise once or twice.”

“No surprise there,” Theodore scoffed.

“And once with this boy I met while on holiday in France. And once with this bloke in the park. But I’ve done it many, many times with,” Draco lifted Theodore’s face gently by the chin so that they were looking directly at one another, “with you, Theodore.” The blonde boy’s evil, mischievous smirk returned. Theodore was utterly perplexed by this remark, as his face probably depicted. But before he could open his mouth to question him, Draco pointed his wand at him and incanted, “Stupefy!” as a bolt of red light hit his face.

Then everything went black.