Puzzle Pieces

Title: Puzzle Pieces
Pairing: D/B, D/Hr/B
Disclaimer: Not mine, alas. JKR owns them all.
Dedication: To the glorious Inell, who’s always an inspiration.
Warnings: Fairly explicit slash and threesome sex. If either of those bother you, stop now while you still have the chance.
Author’s Note 1: This was my Quiet Ones Secret Santa Challenge for Kyra, whose criteria are posted at the bottom of the story. I hope it lives up to her expectations! Thanks, Kyra, for the intriguing challenge. I had a good time working on this one.
Author’s Note 2: All of the magical theory used in this fic is, as far as I know, completely my own creation. I’m the overly analytical type who likes to figure out *why* things work, and this is the best explanation for magic I was able to come up with. If anyone spots anything that seems to directly contradict canon, let me know and I’ll look into changing it, but please, be gentle when it comes to the liberties I took with potions and arithmancy. The potions theory is pure hogwash from someone with *no* scientific background while the arithmancy is garbled nonsense pickpocketed, in part, from the MBA statistics class that I’m stressing over at the moment. Thanks for your patience!


Section 1:

“Lepus florens,” I stated, waving my wand in a perfect circle. My pronunciation was perfect. My wand movement was flawless. My magic was focused. Nothing happened. I regarded the rabbit. The rabbit regarded me.

“Lepus florens,” I repeated, making the same, perfect wand motion. The rabbit ignored me in favor of nibbling on some lettuce I had left for him. He didn’t even bother *looking* at me. It was humiliating. What kind of Slytherin couldn’t even intimidate a rabbit? When I first captured him, he had been trembling with fear but he had calmed down considerably since I started working on the spell. Why shouldn’t he? I had been pointing a stick at him and repeating the same words for near on half an hour, with no visible results. Little wonder that he found lettuce more compelling than me.

“Lepus florens!” I forced out through clenched teeth, my white-knuckled hand not shaking in the slightest as I made another perfect circle. The rabbit responded by defecating on my desk. Damn rabbit.

“Marvelous job, Zabini,” a familiar voice drawled from the couches. “You certainly have a way with dumb animals.”

Growling in frustration, I hurled my wand in his direction. He caught it nonchalantly, without even looking up from his book. Show off. “You’d do better to throw it at the rabbit,” Draco stated calmly, twirling my wand between his fingers. “If you can’t transfigure it, you might as well knock it out. At least if it’s unconscious, it won’t shit on the desks.”

I fought the urge to chuck the rabbit at him as well and see if his seeker reflexes could protect him from *that*. He had no right to act so smug, just because he had been able to transfigure his rabbit into the rabbit’s foot flowering plant the day it was assigned. He knew I had always had trouble with Transfiguration. One of the happiest days of my life was when Snape told me in my career counseling session that my chosen career in international magical commerce did *not* require N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration. I was delighted to leave McGonagall and all her wretched lessons behind, never dreaming that I would even have to think about them ever again.

Then came Snape’s announcement at the beginning of seventh year N.E.W.T. level potions that knocked me so totally off my arse. All the professors blathered on in their opening term speeches about how seventh year was when we would learn how all the disciplines were intermingled, but I hadn’t expected such nonsense from my favorite professor who had always stood firm in his disdain of the more wand-centric forms of magic. That was the whole reason I was taking the class up to the N.E.W.T. level, once I had been informed that regardless of our chosen fields, all seventh year students were required to take at least one class in practical magic. Alas, how sorely was I betrayed! Snape informed us that part of our final training as wizards would be to find and prepare our own ingredients. Some ingredients, used for the most delicate of potions, were so sensitive that they responded to the magic of the wizard who prepared them. If anyone other than the wizard brewing the potion so much as handled them before they were added, the potion could be ruined.

We would therefore, he told us, spend the year learning how to grow or catch or extract ingredients commonly used in potions and prepare them to the necessary specifications. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Herbology had always been one of my better subjects, and thanks to my brother-in-law Giovanni’s obsession with exotic animals, I had always done fairly well in Care of Magical Creatures. For the first few weeks of term, I actually found myself enjoying learning about the ingredients, especially when we were ordered to capture and dissect several large, furry spiders. I imagine that a hundred years from now, I’ll still be able to manage a chuckle when I think of Weasley’s face that day in class.

The other shoe dropped last Friday when Snape informed us that we had a week to prepare the necessary ingredients for a complicated luck potion. One of the essential ingredients was dried leaves from a rabbit’s foot flowering plant. Rabbit’s foot flowering plants don’t grow in nature. The only way to get one was to transfigure a rabbit. Capturing the rabbit was no problem at all. Transfiguring the rabbit was going to be the death of me, and if all Draco could do was mock me while being utterly unhelpful, then he deserved a rabbit in the face.

“If you’re in the mood for dispensing advice,” I hissed in a low voice, barely reigning in my temper, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to actually *help* me with the spell?”

Draco gave a short bark of laughter that made me smile in spite of myself. He laughed so rarely. And he looked so beautiful when he laughed. “Not a chance,” he replied, amusement coloring his voice. “I like my dangly bits just as they are, thanks just the same. I learned my lesson last time I tried tutoring you in Transfiguration.”

Blushing slightly, I looked away. Curse him. He *knew* I still got embarrassed whenever I was reminded of that study session, which he had done regularly ever since it occurred *back in fifth year*. Salazar only knows why he felt the need to bring it up so often. In theory, it should have been just as embarrassing a memory for him as it was for me. I was horrified to remember that my temper had gotten away with me to such an extent that I hexed my best friend and lover but he *was* a nationally ranked duelist for our age bracket, and should have been able to defend himself from being hexed with boils on his balls.

Of course, he always did say that he had no defenses against me. Perhaps it was true. I certainly had no defenses against him. Especially not when he slipped up behind me and started rubbing my shoulders in a maddeningly seductive way while I continued to stare at the stubbornly non-transfigured rabbit.

“You’ll get it eventually,” he murmured soothingly. “You always do.”

“But I don’t have time to spend weeks working this one out,” I argued half-heartedly. “You know I need this done by Friday, or Snape will have my head.”

“I’ll protect you.” His hands grew more adventurous, tugging my tie out of the way and unfastening my collar to caress the skin of my throat. “You know I’d never let anyone hurt you.”

“Easy for you to say,” I grumbled, trying to sound put out. If he thought I was genuinely upset, he’d work that much harder to ‘lighten’ my spirits. “You transfigured your rabbit days ago, and won’t even show me how.”

The husky chuckle I got in response meant that my act wasn’t working, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to mind as his lips replaced his hands on the sensitive skin of my neck while his hands moved down to the buttons on my shirt. “It’s in your own best interests, love,” he insisted. “I know how you hate being cut off while I heal from your violence against me.”

I snorted. “Madam Pomfrey had you healed within an hour. You cut me off to pout over being bested in a duel.”

Another chuckle that sent shivers down my spine as I felt his chest vibrate against my back. “What can I say?” he asked rhetorically, one hand leaving my buttons to rub against my crotch. “I like to win.”

In spite of myself, my eyes slid closed while I moaned softly. It felt so good whenever he touched me, *where* ever he touched me. “Is it safe?” I gasped, forcing myself to take precaution before I lost my mind over his touch.

He nipped my neck sharply, making me gasp. “Safe as houses. The charm turned green...” Draco’s voice trailed off as I reached behind me, tracing my hand up his thigh to gently cup his own erection.

Ah, the charm. One of my more brilliant ideas, if I do say so myself, designed for situations just like this one, where Draco and I found ourselves alone in the common room. Time spent in the Slytherin common room was determined solely by rank. First through third years were never allowed in the common room at all after dinner. Fourth and fifth years were allowed until nine o’clock. Sixth years stuck around until eleven. By midnight, anyone below seventh year who was found in the common room did not have long to wait before learning the consequences of trespassing. Draco and I were both night owls, and had the tendency to outlast most of our fellow seventh years, leaving us in sole possession of the common room shortly after midnight. We could do pretty much anything we chose in the relative privacy, but Draco was a paranoid bastard, and insisted upon extra security measures.

“…right as your rabbit shat on the desk,” Draco concluded, the smirk clearly evident in his voice, almost completely disguising the slight breathlessness from my touch as my thumb circled the head of his cock through the material of his pants.

He was also a *snarky* bastard and I had already taken about as much ribbing as I was prepared to handle about that thrice-damned, spawn-of-darkness rabbit. Turning sharply, I faced him, pulling my hand away from his groin to fist both hands in his hair, yanking his mouth to mine. If he couldn’t find better use for his mouth than picking fun at me then I’d just have to keep it occupied for him. I felt the smirk curling his lips even as he opened his mouth for my tongue, and I concentrated on deep, bruising kisses custom made to turn his lips soft and pliable under mine. Oh, how I loved kissing the snark right out of him.

I wasn’t nearly done savoring that delicious mouth of his when he pulled away, kneeling in front of me with a gleam in his eyes. “You’re sexy when you’re angry,” he informed me, hands deftly unfastening my belt. “But you’re sexier when you’re naked.” Briskly, he unfastened my fly and slipped his hand into my boxers, pulling out my eager erection. “If we weren’t in here, I’d take off every stitch of your clothing and lick you till you begged for more. But since I can’t, I suppose I’ll just have to do this.” His mouth engulfed my cock whole, letting it slide all the way down to his throat. With his eyes focused on my groin, it’s not surprising that he missed the way that I flinched at his words.

I should have known that he wouldn’t take my clothes off in the common room. He’d never risk undressing either of us completely when there was any chance at all that someone might walk in. He’s not ashamed of me. Really, he’s not. (Most of the time,) I’m completely positive that he’s not in the least bit ashamed of the relationship the two of us have. He’s just cautious. Very, very cautious. Too cautious to let anyone know what we mean to each other. Too cautious to touch me when there’s anyone around to see. For a long time, he was even too cautious to kiss me when we were on school grounds. That’s when I came up with the charm.

The charm was tied to a dragon figurine Draco wore on a chain around his neck. (Anyone who dared to call it a necklace learned *why* Draco was a nationally ranked duelist.) The figurine appeared to be unbroken silver from tip to toe, except for when Draco and I were alone in a room together. Then and only then, if there was no one near the doorways and no one headed toward whatever room we were in, the eyes of the dragon turned green. They would glow red and give Draco a mild shock if anyone was approaching and then turn solid silver again the second anyone else entered the room.

It took me weeks to find the charm back in the beginning of fifth year when we took our friendship to the next stage, but the results were more than worth the effort involved. Draco doesn’t hesitate now to kiss me or touch me, or even give me an absolutely heavenly deep-throat blowjob right in the middle of the common room, but that was as far as he was willing to go in such publicly accessible space. Anything involving total nudity could only take place off of school grounds or in completely securable locations such as our dorm room when we were the only ones not in class. He was always far too hungry for affection to give up the chance for kisses and touches altogether when we were somewhere without a door that could be locked and shielded, but here in the common room, he was always careful to make sure that the eyes on the charm were green, and that neither of us removed too many clothes to be quickly replaced if someone walked toward the room. It wouldn’t do if anyone knew we were together. He wasn’t ashamed of me, of course he wasn’t ashamed of me, I *knew* he wasn’t ashamed of me, but the two of us getting caught simply wouldn’t do at all.

It was no secret that I wasn’t crazy about all of Draco’s rules, but when he was touching me, it was hard for me to mind anything *too* much. He unfastened his own trousers next and firmly fisted his cock while sucking out my soul through my prick, using his tongue to bring as much pleasure to my sensitive spots as he possibly could. His eyes locked with mine; they sparkled wickedly and challengingly in that way that makes me whimper as he deliberately switched the hands on his cock, lifting the hand sticky with pre-cum up to his face and underneath the point where he was devouring me to cradle and caress my balls.

I exploded. My eyes slammed shut and my torso went rigid except for my hips, which thrust hard, over and over again into that warm, wet heaven as I emptied myself inside him. He swallowed every drop, actually increasing the suction; something I wouldn’t have thought possible mere moments before; to drain away every particle I had to give. By the time I floated back to earth, I was boneless, limp, and covered in sweat, slumped in one of the common room chairs, while Draco remained knelt in front of me, nonchalantly licking his hands clean.

“I love you,” I whispered.

Draco smiled, one of those sincere smiles that he rarely let anyone see. “I love you, too,” he answered. “Now, to bed with you, my love. Everything else can wait till morning.”

“But the rabbit…” I protested weakly.

“Obviously defective,” Draco answered in that trademark snooty tone as he fastened his trousers and rose to his feet. “There must be something wrong with anything that can resist *your* magic.”

In spite of myself, I chuckled. “So what should I do with it?”

Draco shrugged elegantly. “Give it to the house-elves. I daresay they’ll be able to come up with some use for it.”

Nodding obediently, I rose to my feet as well, fastening my limp and utterly sated cock inside my pants before snapping my fingers for a house elf. When one arrived, I simply pointed to the rabbit and to the mess he made on the desk, and then followed Draco into the dormitories. I’d catch another rabbit tomorrow, and start the grueling process of working my way through the spell all over again. Anything else that needed doing, I’d deal with in the morning.


End Section 1