Seductivo

Hallo! ^_^
I’m so incredibly sorry for how long it took me to get this next bit out for you. Will you ever forgive me? Also, I would like to thank the people who left reviews (Chickalupe, Lee, MissCrystalix, Keikokin, Sarkywoman, Spyke, and AnaCristina!) Thank You! You inspired me to write more, knowing you wanted more. And if you’d like a more personal response just ask, I’m never sure if you want me to respond to review nor not ^_^’
if it\'s a question about plot, i\'ll usually try to answer it within the story, so no worries.

By now you should know the warnings, and the pairings, and all that crap, so read on eh? –grin-
if you don\'t know, check the first 3 chapters for hints.


Seductivo - Part 4
By Cs

It was a few hours after dinner, the school at a stage of rest for the evening, when Harry arrived within the tower. It had been set up so that the only way in was if one of the Professors or Dumbledore physically escorted them to the top window by way of a brief hovering spell. They could not leave by broom, and despite the fact that there was a fireplace, it was built not only with a permanent grating but was very tiny as well. There really was no escape.

Harry heaved a long-suffering sigh, looking about the circular room with trepidation. It wasn’t too small a room; it was actually quite large, though, it’s being circular left the entire room to view by either occupant. Harry wondered how they were supposed to shower, or for that matter go to the bathroom, but just as he began to worry, he saw nearly hidden on one wall a small lever by a sign that read ‘Sanitorium’. Oh. Well, that was a relief.

“This is all your fault,” a spiteful voice said from Harry’s left. He glanced over to find Draco, still orange in the face, though the mashed potatoes were gone. Harry sighed again; turning away to open the trunk of his things he’d been forced to pack. He hadn’t even been allowed to talk to his friends before he left. Not that they would have spoken to him, judging by the acrid orange looks they’d been casting his way.

“Good,” Draco said, “at least you *know* it’s your fault.”

“Shutup, Draco.”

“Make me.”

They glared at one another and then went back to unpacking. There was a shelf by each bed, the beds themselves located on either side of the large circle. The fireplace sat back on the wall between the foot of the beds, a table in front of it, and two chairs on either side of it. Cozy, but definitely not home for either of them. One window was also set in the wall, just between the head of each bed; it was a large window, stone lined, as was most of the school, a shelf just wide enough to sit on beneath.

Harry finished unpacking his few belongings, setting them along his shelves, and then turned to eye his bed. There was no canopy, no sheltering curtains; it felt so exposed compared to the beds in the dorms. He glanced at Draco from beneath his eyelashes, turning his head slightly away so it wouldn’t look like he was looking. The other boy was looking around the room for a place to put a large easel, which surprised Harry. Art? Draco was into art? It was almost ridiculous. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the blond bastard picking up a pencil or quill with the intention of drawing anything other than genitalia or sick jokes. Then, after Draco found a spot for the easel, he went back to his chest and pulled out a sheaf of large rolled up paper. He sent a glare Harry’s way, and Harry quickly pretended he was straightening his bed, though it was already perfectly neat and tidy.

Harry turned with his back towards Draco’s side of the room, glancing into the shine of a picture he’d put on one of his shelves. It showed the reflection of Draco, putting a picture up on the easel, and then proceeding to try and wrestle one to the wall. Harry glanced at the picture on the easel, but it was hard to figure out what it was, backwards and hazy in the reflection as it was. Carefully, so that Draco wouldn’t notice the movement he she shifted so he could see the picture out of the corner of his eye. He stared.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but the picture took his breath away for a moment before it came back as a sharp little intake of air that sounded suspiciously like a gasp. It had been drawn, and rather than the dirty joke or naughty image he’d been expecting, he found himself turning fully around to eye the dark charcoal picture on the easel. It was the vague outline of a man, turning away; his shadow was the largest part of the picture, stretching across the foreground and dark as pitch. It was strangely haunting, as if this was what it looked like when people left you forever. Harry knew that feeling well. For a moment, he wondered if he’d misjudged Draco, given him a name and a title he didn’t deserve, that of enemy, most hated nuisance.

Harry looked towards the other picture that Draco had finally managed to wrestle on to the wall, with who knew what. Perhaps pure magic, maybe muggle tape, it could be anything. Anything that could stick to solid, cold stone.

This picture was slightly more along the lines of what Harry had imagined Draco could draw, it was streaked and old looking, drawn with what looked like crayon. It showed a strange scene, one that was slightly familiar, drawn as it was a thousand times over in schools across the globe. It was a simple picture really, two trees, one on either side of house, a yellow sun up above, and skewed windows on the house - which had a tiny puffing chimney. It was a puzzle to Harry, this strange child-like picture. It wasn’t art; just…a kid’s drawing, he’d done some himself when he’d been younger. Though his had always been a little odd, containing as they did a house with bars on the windows and the moon up above, instead of the sun. Well, he’d been an abnormal child, thanks to the Durselys.

Draco was sitting on his bed, quietly eyeing the child picture, head tilted to one side. Then in a quick movement he turned and glared at Harry with silvery eyes. “Who said you could look over here?” he spat, eyes narrowing into slits of loathing.

Harry shrugged, getting up to go examine the lever to the ‘Sanitorium’, which he felt was an awfully strange name for a cleaning facility, as it implied the mind might get clean too if one lingered in such a place. With a glance back at Draco, Harry pulled the lever and waited. The wall slid up revealing a room that by all rights shouldn’t and couldn’t be in the space it was in. Harry knew the building was the same width and perpendicularity all the way up and around. There was no way this room could be attached; it’d stick out from the building. He ducked his head inside, pulled back, and then carefully inched a toe onto the smooth white tiles. Nothing horrible happened, so he went the rest of the way into the little room as if it might bite him at any moment.

There were two stalls for showering, two sinks side by side, and two toilets set back against the wall, a divider between them. Simple, but effective. Harry stared into the mirrors suspended over the sinks, noting his face was, yes, still bright orange. He wondered when they would figure out a way to remove the curse he and Draco had accidentally set off. Then, just because it seemed logical, he went to the sink and washed his face, to his surprise, when he glanced into the mirror, his features only had a few traces of orange left, smears of it near his hairline and the creases beside his nose and mouth. He turned around to tell Draco and then stopped himself, mouth hanging open with indecision. It wasn’t as if Draco was a friend, or as if he deserved the knowledge. Then he winced and yelled, “hey, Draco, come here.”

It was even more surprising to see Draco pause in the doorway and then enter as carefully as Harry had. He looked warily at Harry, and then his eyes widened in pleased surprise. “All we have to do is wash it off?” He laughed and went over to the sink beside Harry, quickly turning on the water and scrubbing at his face with the soap. He chuckled when he looked into the mirror, turning his head this way and that, absently rubbing at the few remaining spots of orange. “Think we should tell them it’s this easy?”

Harry shrugged. “They probably already know by now.”

“Hm,” Draco murmured, glancing at Harry, a wry smile on his face. “Thanks.”

Harry nodded and then wondered at himself. Ah well, it’s not as if they wouldn’t have figured it out eventually. And surely by the time morning came they would have noticed the rest of the school with clean faces once more. But still, it bugged him, he hadn’t wanted to tell Draco, and yet, he had.

~~~


The twins lay on George’s bed together, staring up the canopy, utterly dejected. Fred had his arms crossed over his chest as if dead, eyes staring blankly above, George stared at his twin, gnawing on his lower lip with worry. It’d been a few hours ago that they’d been informed that they merely had to wash their faces, and now both were once more peppered with freckles, though lacking their usual sly grins.

“This ruins everything!” Fred exclaimed at last, sitting up and glaring at the curtains around the bed as if they were to blame. “What are we going to do?”

“Don’t ask me, you’re the genius planner.” George sighed and flopped backwards, arms spread wide. “We’re doomed.”

“Dead.”

“Done for.”

“This stinks.”

“Sucks.”

“The dirty end of a broomstick,” Fred added.

“Which bit is that?”

“The bit beneath your arse, I’d imagine.”

“All right,” George said, “let’s review our options, maybe something will come to mind.”

“Something did come to mind, we’re doomed.”

“Right, but maybe something else will come to mind.”

“It did, remember? We’re dead as well.”

“You’re no help at all,” George admonished. “Come on, there’s got to be something we can do.”

“Jump from the roof and plummet to our unhonorable deaths?”

“Put a spell on Draco so his hair grows really, really long, then we climb it and do lovely dirty things to him,” suggested George with a faint grin.

Fred laughed and snuggled closer to his brother, ruffling the identical red hair lazily. “Kidnap him from the table he’ll share in the dining hall with Harry and run away.”

“We wouldn’t get away with it.”

“It’s worth trying.”

“Is it?”

“Maybe not.”

They sighed in unison and slumped together in a pitiable pile of twin-ness. George buried his head beneath Fred’s arm, and groaned. “All our plans are ruined!” he said in a muffled voice from beneath his brother’s shoulder.

“Don’t say that,” warned Fred, “I’ll be forced to torture you with my armpit.”

George sniffed delicately and then ‘hmphed’. “It’s not nearly bad enough I’m afraid.”

Once more they lay as if dead. George slid up and put his head next to Fred’s, their thinking pose. And, it seemed to work as Fred cried suddenly, “I’ve got it!”

“What?”

“Well, what if we-”

“Won’t work.”

“How about if we-”

“Nope, been tried.”

“Perhaps maybe if we-”

“Think again.”

“Ok, then maybe if we got-”

“And how are we going to find two invisibility cloaks, extra long spongy rope, and a bottle of fire whiskey at this hour, pray tell?” George asked, one eyebrow rising and forming a partial question mark.

Fred grinned, “Okay, so maybe that’s not an option after all, but it sure is a fun idea.”

~~~


In the morning, the large dining hall was both quiet and abuzz, it went in waves; as a professor would enter, everyone would fall silent, and then the zing of conversation would once more start rising. Everyone was eyeing the table set to one end of the professors’ long table. Harry and Draco sat at it facing one another, though neither would look up. Instead they both applied themselves with full attention to their meals, both trying to ignore the whispers that raced about the room on wings like snitches.

After their mutual face washing the night before, they hadn’t said another word to one another, instead, quietly getting ready for bed, and then without even a ‘goodnight’ turning down the wicks on the lamps by either bedside and falling asleep. Well, pretending to fall asleep. Though Harry had lain awake most of the night wondering how horrible the rest of the school year might be; and Draco had stayed awake, wondering if his father would do anything if he found out about this, or instead let him suffer. It was hard to tell, on both ends.

Harry looked at the Gryffindor table longingly for a moment, giving Ron and Hermione a little wave of his fingers when he saw them watching him. He tried to give them a brave smile as well, but failed when he also caught sight of the twins watching their table intensely. Now what was that all about? He glanced at Draco and then back at the twins with curiosity. They were definitely staring at Draco, which was odd, as usually they were always with their heads together whispering, at least, they were whenever he’d looked at them before this whole catastrophe.

Harry cleared his throat and gave a jerk of his head in the twins’ direction when he caught Draco’s eye. He watched as Draco looked and then quickly looked at Harry, flushing a soft shade of pink and then staring back at his plate once more. Interesting. Harry hid a smile behind his fork and then asked softly, “What’s that all about?”

Draco looked up and stared at him for a moment, eyes shifting to the side to stare at the twins. He met Harry’s gaze again and frowned. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Looks like something.”

“Well, it’s not,” Draco said primly, setting down his fork and looking about, wondering when they’d be allowed to leave their little prison-table. There was no way he’d tell Harry about the twin’s proposal, though, it was very tempting. But now that they were locked up together in the tower, it might not be nearly as gratifying as it’d been when he’d imagined it before. At the very least, it might be more dangerous. “They just want revenge on me for something,” Draco offered, hoping it would stop Harry’s obvious speculations.

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Well, I do.”

“Right.” Harry nodded and went back to his breakfast, watching Draco from beneath his eyelashes. It seemed to be fast becoming a habit, watching Draco secretly. It was almost embarrassing. “Sure,” he added, poking at his eggs a bit savagely.

Draco watched Harry and then grinned out right. Maybe this could work to his advantage after all, it appeared Harry didn’t like the idea that he and twins shared a secret of some sort. “They offered me something recently, and I haven’t given them an answer yet, all right?”

Harry glanced quickly over at the twins and then back at Draco. “What sort of offer?” he asked inquisitively, leaning across the table a bit.

“Something intriguing,” Draco admitted, and then flushed at the thought. He couldn’t believe he was actually telling Harry this, and yet, oh, it might be so good to see his reaction, and if he could get that reaction in front of everyone it might be even more priceless. He coughed in embarrassment and then whispered conspiratorially across the table, “they said they want to date me.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open and it appeared for a moment as if he’d stopped breathing all together. His mouth clicked shut and then opened again, no words coming out, and then it clamped shut once more, the corners turning down in a frown. “Liar,” he hissed.

“Am not, they did. And I still haven’t told them whether I’ll accept or not,” Draco added with a grin of pure maliciousness.

Harry stared over at the twins as if weighing all the truths of his experience, and then found he was looking directly at a set of identical eyes. One of them winked at him. He shivered and glared at Draco. “You’re going to say no,” he told the blond.

“Ha! Why should I? They’re not yours you know.” Draco absently tucked a tendril of hair behind his ear, and smiled, delighted. “But they could be mine,” he said in a musing tone, one hand caressing the fork on his plate with the tips of his fingers.

Harry glared at him, hand clenched on the fork he was impaling his eggs with. “If you…”

“What?” Draco asked brightly.

Harry shook his head, aggravated and unable to word what he wanted so desperately to growl. He slowly unclenched his hand and took a bite of his cold eggs, then set his fork down and stared at his plate. There really was nothing he could do if Draco dated the twins. Even though it was a strange idea. The twins were boys, in case Draco hadn’t noticed, and…Weasleys, which though Harry didn’t mind, Draco surely did, at least, judging by the years of antagonism. It was just so unthinkable in all aspects. “It’s mad,” he muttered, meeting Draco’s eyes just barely.

“It certainly is,” Draco agreed happily, and leaned back to stare at the twins with open frankness. They stared back, one of them, George perhaps, smiling and nudging his twin. “I might just say yes.”

-tbc-