Dirty Magic

Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower late on Saturday and was up on Sunday morning long before anyone else was awake. He spent most of his free time on the Quidditch pitch half-heartedly devising new manoeuvres, in the Library pretending to be researching potions and in he Owlery visiting Hedwig. He was occupying himself in order to avoid everyone. He had no great desire to see Draco Malfoy until he absolutely had to (Monday’s Potions lesson was going to see to that), and was avoiding his friends and their inevitable questions.

It wasn’t until late Sunday afternoon that Harry was sprung. Hermione had noticed his absence and unlike the others, wasn’t content to explain it away and then forget about it. She knew something was wrong, and she was going to find out what. She found him on the Quidditch pitch in the murky afternoon light, idly flying around.

“Harry!” she shouted from the ground. Gliding around high above the pitch, Harry didn’t hear her, so she called out again, louder. “Harry!” This time, Harry did hear her. He reluctantly manoeuvred his broom to the ground, and dismounted.

“Hello Hermione.” He said disinterestedly.

“Where have you been all day?” She asked.

“Oh. I went to see Hedwig, and I was doing some potions work in the Library.” He said.

“Don’t lie to me, Harry. I can see right through you.”
“Okay, you’ve got me. I wasn’t in the Library doing potions work. I was in the Library trying to work out new and exciting ways of breaking into the Restricted Section.”

Hermione glowered at Harry. “Why are you so testy lately?”

Harry looked evenly at Hermione. “You don’t want to know.”

She gave him the same look back and said “Try me.”

He sighed. “Okay. Come and sit down. I think you’ll need to for this.” He led Hermione over to the Quidditch stands and they sat down underneath them, as a light snow began to fall. Harry had hoped he’d be able to keep this to himself a little longer, as it had only been a day since the wretched thing had happened. But, true to form, Hermione had worked him out. He vaguely wondered if Hermione was a Legilimens, and automatically broke eye contact with her. She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s happened, Harry? Why are you avoiding everyone?”

He looked up at her, trying to work out the best way to tell her. “Yesterday morning, after breakfast, I went for a bath in the prefects bathroom. While I was sitting in the bath, Draco Malfoy came in and got into the bath with me.” Hermione gasped and withdrew her hand from Harry’s shoulder as if she’d been stung.

Harry scowled. “I haven’t got a contagious disease, Hermione. If you’re going to act like that, I can’t tell you the rest.”

She reached out and took Harry’s hand. “I’m sorry. I just, wasn’t expecting you to say that. Were you, um, naked?”

“Of course. Do you think I get in the bath fully clothed?”

“Of course not, Harry. I just had to make sure.” They were both quiet for a moment.

“What happened after that?” Hermione prompted finally.

“Well, I got out of the bath - NAKED - to get dressed and leave. I was standing there with the towel around me, and Draco, I mean, Malfoy got out of the bath as well.”

He stopped talking, a feeling of anxiety washing over him. Hermione saw the anxiety on Harry’s face, and became concerned. “Harry, he didn’t hurt you did he?”

“No.” Harry said. “Quite the opposite, really.” He paused and took a breath. “Hekissedme.”

Hermione squeaked, and when quickly pulled herself together. Harry looked stricken, somewhere between wanting to cry and wanting to die, Hermione thought.

“Did you like it?” She asked carefully.

“Of course I didn’t like it, Hermione! Draco Malfoy!”

“Okay.” Hermione rethought her question. “Did you enjoy it? Was it pleasurable?”

Harry paused for a moment. Every thought flooding into his brain at that moment was telling hm that he did indeed enjoy kissing Draco Malfoy, that it was pleasurable, and that, given the chance, he’d love to do it again.

“I did, Hermione.” Harry considered the ramifications of this. He’d just said he enjoyed kissing Draco Malfoy. Before he’d said it, when the notion lived in his head, he could pretend it wasn’t real, that it was just a silly fantasy. But saying it to someone gave it life, made it real. When something becomes real, it can’t be ignored.

“Would you do it again?” Hermione stirred Harry out of his reverie.

“Yes.”

“What about Ginny?”

“I love Ginny, Hermione. I’d do anything for her.”

“But do you love her like I love Ron?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t KNOW!” Harry shouted suddenly. “Stop asking me QUESTIONS I don’t know the answer to!” He leapt up, grabbed his Firebolt and stormed off, leaving Hermione pondering what she’d just been told.

_____________________

When Harry got back to the castle, he didnt head straight for Gryffindor Tower as he usually did. Instead, he found himself heading in the direction of the prefects bathroom. He stopped outside the entrance, vaguely wondering what he was doing there. He was thinking about Draco Malfoy, reliving the events of the previous morning once more, when the silence was rent by a familiar voice.

“Oi, Harry, you dolt!”

Harry’s head snapped around in panic. Immediately, he thought Malfoy was approaching, but when he sighted the source of the voice, a wave of relief washed over him. It was Ron.

“Ron!” Harry called out, as his friend got closer.

“What are you doing?” Harry was quiet, as he mentally grasped around for an answer. “I’m ah, um, hmm…” He trailed off, as the door opened, and Ginny emerged. Harry clapped once and smiled. “Im waiting for Ginny!” Ginny looked surprised to see Harry and her brother standing at the door of the bathroom.

“Hanging around the door to the bathroom, boys?” She asked, starting along the corridor. “Don’t let Filch see you two perving on the girls or you’ll be in trouble.”

She turned around to face the two older boys standng by the door, and continued moving backwards. “Well? Are you coming, or are you going to stand there like stunned mullets?”