Paralyzer

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Harry Potter-verse. All rights and ownership belong to J.K. Rowling and various others, none of which are me, much to my dismay, and no amount of day-dreaming is going to change that. I make no money and I do not gain anything from writing these fanfictions about the Potter verse except the occasional bit of praise from my reviewers which has no monetary value, but makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, so keep ‘em coming.

A/N: Hello all!! I bet you weren’t expecting to see me so soon, since I just finished Only though the Pain about four or five months ago and I usually go a year or two between fictions, but I was inspired. By what, I hear you silently ask? Well, what else? A song. ‘Paralyzer’ by Finger Eleven to be specific. Not my usual genre of music, I must say. Since I tend to lead more towards jazz and hard rock, alternative songs hardly ever cross my path, but every now and then I hear something I like on Blondie’s mp3 player and copy it to my own laptop and if I listen to it enough it inspires me to write something. As usual with my writing, this fan-fiction is only canon up to book 5, because after that I got frustrated with J.K. who in her infinite wisdom killed off Sirius and put Ginny and Harry together as a couple. I’m not opposed to Harry and Ginny bopping mind you, and, in fact, there will be a bit of that in this fiction, but I think Harry and Draco make a much hotter couple and keeping canon after book 5 and putting those two together is difficult. Not impossible, but difficult, and I’m a lazy ass so I don’t like to do difficult things if I can help it. This is just gonna be a little thing, unless my muses play a trick on my brain as usual and change it up. Updates are gonna be once, maybe twice a week, not daily, because I am busy with school and the twins and Blondie, but every Monday at 6PM Pacific time by the latest, there will be an update. Feel free to smack me if there isn’t. Also, I love feedback of all kinds, even flames because they are so helpful in the roasting of marshmallows, so hit that review button and let me know what you think! Remember Murray’s golden rule; “If you have time to read fanfiction then you have time to write a two word review (It sucks or Its good)…..unless you have crappy dial up and it takes twenty minutes to load each page.” And if you do have crappy dial up, then you also have my condolences and I totally understand why you don’t review. So without further babbling, here it is, Paralyzer, Chapter the first.

Chapter 1, “The Club”

Finally, it was over. Hogwarts, the war, the Dursley’s, all put far behind Harry Potter. He’d graduated by the skin of his teeth in everything except defense against the dark arts and charms, and then, just after the last name had been called to receive the Hogwarts Diploma, Moldy Voldy had burst in, wand raised. He’d been making trouble on and off since 4th year, attacks on muggles, raids against the ministry and the like, but nothing too major. It seemed that being brought back from the dead had completely snapped his mind like an overused rubberband so he spent most of his time ordering his minions to put on weird performances involving tutus all while ranting and raving about zombie bunnies and swearing that the glitter would help him defeat the side of the light….yeah….

Anyway, by the time his lieutenants finally convinced him that the best way to defeat the light was to attack them head on, Harry was more than ready. It had almost been too easy, really. All he’d done was pointed over Voldemort’s shoulder during the duel and screamed “Look! Blue zombie bunnies!” and Tom Riddle had run screaming. It was a simple matter for Harry to shoot a good stunning spell at him, tie him up and deliver him to a good mental hospital (muggle of course) for some much needed psychological treatment, and still be back in time for the after party at the Burrow. A party at which, he might add, Ginny Weasley had cornered him and he’d spent the rest of the night snogging with in the attic, ignoring the ghoul.

Then, during the clean up, Peter Pettigrew had been caught and his godfather Sirius had been pardoned so he was able to leave the Dursley’s for good and ever. He would have been able to do that anyway since he was a legal adult now and owned his parents’ estates, but no one had lived in the Potter manors in years and Harry didn’t really want to live all alone, so Sirius and Remus were going to live with him until he felt comfortable by himself. Of course, Potter Manor was pretty large, so unless he went looking for them in their wing of the manor he rarely saw them because he was working and hanging out with Ginny before school started for her again. He saw Ron and Hermione too, but not as much because they spent most of their time entwined in bed with each other, but that was fine because he spent most of his time entwined with Ginny in bed…and in the pool…and against walls….and in the closet….and on top of counters….and….yeah…..having Ron around for that was dangerous to his health.

Tonight however, Ginny was stuck babysitting for Charlie and Fleur, Ron and Hermione were ‘settling in’ to their new apartment, and it was the full moon so Remus and Sirius were out on a run. This left Harry with nothing to do and no one to talk to and the Manor was feeling rather lonely. Ginny had recently been talking about a new nightclub in the Alley that she wanted to check out, but that she couldn’t get into because she didn’t have a membership and wasn’t famous enough to be ushered in without one. Harry of course, was famous enough that he could get in easily AND procure a membership, but Ginny said that he’d have to do that without her since they wouldn’t let her in even if she was magically attached to Harry’s hip without a pass from a member. Now seemed like the perfect time, so Harry scoured his wardrobe (which had been completely made over this summer with Ginny’s help) and put together a good clubbing outfit consisting of tight leather pants (Ginny jumped him violently every time he wore them) an emerald green shirt with a black Chinese dragon pattern that magically moved around his shirt, and black dragon skin boots with a matching trench coat that Ginny had swooned over. His hair was slightly longer now, since length seemed to be the only way to tame it, and he pulled as much of it as he could back into a short pony-tail with a green ribbon then switched his glasses out for contacts and was ready to go.

He left a note for Sirius and Remus in case they came home before he did and then stepped into the floo to go to the Alley. Seeing as it was a Saturday night, and the last one before school started again, the line of people trying to get into the club wrapped all the way around the building, but Harry followed Ginny’s advice and strolled straight up the bouncer and his trained troll who after a quick glance at Harry’s scar, unhooked the rope and let him in, no questions asked.

Inside the club was dark, lit by candles and magical strobe lights, pulsing with moving bodies and pounding music and scented faintly of smoke and incense. The people inside were mostly dressed as Harry was, in tight fitting leather, silk and lace, but a few older teens occupying a shadowed booth in the back were dressed in the more traditional long black wizarding robes. He couldn’t quite see all of their faces but the ones he could make out were familiar and Slytherin. This was fine for him, of course, since he’d grown out of those petty fights in the hallway after seeing Cedric killed and could care less about their jibes and barbs, but all the same the spot he chose at the bar was as far away from their table as he could get. He didn’t pick fights anymore, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t defend himself if a few of them were still sore and it would be a shame to lose his membership before he even got it. Ginny would kick his ass.

Truthfully though, Harry thought the club was a bit lame. The music was so-so, good for dancing which was the point he supposed, but hardly creative in the rhythm and lyrics department, and the drinks they served at the bar he was sitting at were overpriced and weak in comparison with the drinks served at the leaky cauldron down the street. Ginny would probably think so too, but she wouldn’t believe him until she saw it for herself, so he inquired as subtly as possible to the bartender about gaining a membership.

“Not my call,” the bartender shrugged, “you’ll have to talk to the owner; he makes all the decisions around here. He’s over at that back table there.”

Harry looked towards the shrouded Slytherin table, “Back there?”

“Yes,” the bartender said, but when Harry stood he grabbed Harry’s arm and stopped him. “Whoa, hold on. You can’t just walk up to him. That’s a private booth, you have to be invited to sit there. Sit down again and I’ll send a message over expressing your interest if you like.”

Harry sat down again and rolled his eyes. Ginny better appreciate what he was trying to do for her, because no doubt the Slytherins were going to make him jump through all sorts of hoops. They probably wouldn’t refuse him outright, he was the one who’d saved them from having to swear loyalty to that crazy bastard Voldemort after all, but there was no way they’d let a chance to torment him pass them by. He had no idea why, it’s not like he’d ever really done anything to any of them that they hadn’t done right back, but Dumbledore’s stupid house rivalry probably had something to do with it.

“You do that,” he told the bartender who immediately charmed a piece of paper and sent it flying in the form of an owl above the heads of the dancers to land neatly at the table. A pale hand shot out of the darkness and plucked the letter off the table and then a moment later all of the robed figures but one stood, shed their robes to reveal more club attire and stepped out onto the dance floor where they mingled seamlessly with the other clubbers. Then the letter was sent back and the bartender read it.

“Seems the owner has invited you for a private talk,” The bartender said, handing Harry the note which said simply, ‘Join me’. “Go on then, and take your drink, you’ll need it.”

“Thanks…” Harry muttered, picking up the weak sweet concoction of rum and fruit juices that someone had called a ‘Hurricane’. He didn’t know what a girly drink it was until after he’d taken a sip, the bright blue color of it probably should have tipped him off, but by then it was too late to admit that he’d made a mistake in his ordering…and after a few more sips of the thing he sort of liked it….even if it was similar to drinking a liquefied smurf. He was careful not to spill it though as he made his way through the swaying and gyrating crowd, catching glimpses of familiar faces who smiled, winked, leered, nodded, and…er…otherwise gestured at him. He acknowledged the friendly ones, ignored the rude ones, and hoped Ginny never found out about the other ones. Perhaps she was right about the pants though, since the ‘others’ seemed to be the majority of looks he was getting....including it seemed from the person at the table.

Harry didn’t mind that the person at the table was male because he believed gender had nothing to do with feelings like love which he felt for Ginny, or with simple appreciation of good looks like he held briefly for Jeremy who had lived down the street from the Dursley’s, or even with plain old good fashioned lust like everyone here was staring at him with. What did bother him, as he finally made it across the room to the table, was the person staring at him. Draco Malfoy.
He hadn’t seen Malfoy since the end of fifth year because Malfoy Sr. had picked up and moved his family out of the then clearly insane Dark Lord’s reach with the help of the ministry, but there was no mistaking him. No one but a Malfoy could pull off that shocking pale blonde hair and grey eyes naturally, and no one but Draco had that annoying ‘I’m better than you are and you know it just as well as I do so kiss my ass’ smirk. A smirk that would have said this was just another day outside of a Potions class in which Harry had managed to botch something were it not for the slight glimmer of something else hidden beneath it. Something else rather similar to the look Ginny gave him when she’d had him try on tight jeans.

“Wow,” thought Harry wryly, “these pants really are good if they can make Malfoy want inside them.” Then he grimaced to himself at even having thought that. More likely, all chances of him getting a membership had disappeared the minute Draco had seen that the person walking to the table was Harry and the ‘something else’ was purely residual. Oh well, Ginny probably wouldn’t even want to come to the club once he told her that Draco owned it….then again, she had confided to Harry that she thought Draco was hot and that if he hadn’t moved the girls would have unanimously voted him Slytherin Sex God. When he’d commented on the fact that one of requirements to vote for Slytherin Sex God was to have had some sort of physical encounter with each of the candidates by asking if fist fights really counted she’d just blushed, smacked him with a throw pillow and gone off in search of snacks. What that meant he could only guess, but looking at Draco now, all grown up and not on the receiving end of a boils hex, he couldn’t really blame her. He shuddered again.

“Well, are you going to sit down or are you just going to stand there shaking in your,” Draco paused and stood to look down at Harry’s shoes then met Harry’s eyes, smirk intensified, “boots…you always did make it too easy Potter.” He settled back down on his seat, “Please, sit, this should be entertaining.”

“You know Malfoy, I think I’ve changed my mind. Thanks anyway but Gin will just have to live and find another place to party on the weekends.” Harry said.

“Gin? Ah yes, the little Weasley girl. I’d heard you two were the new ‘it’ couple. She’s not here with you is she? I’d love to say hello to her again.” Draco was smiling. Not smirking. Smiling.

This odd and never before seen sight (combined with rising suspicions that fist fights didn’t actually count in qualifications for the judging panel) was enough to make Harry need to sit down, and the closest seat was in the booth with Draco. “Uh….no….she’s not here….” Harry blinked, and Draco’s smile fell a little.

“Ah…what a shame. Well, perhaps you’ll bring her next time with your new member’s pass. I have one for you here, if you’d like it…” Draco said, pulling a small laminated card out of his robe and holding it out.

“What? No hoops?” Harry scoffed, reluctant to take it. He didn’t know why he was acting like an ass, and why Draco wasn’t, but the part of him that had gone to school with Malfoy for 5 years was saying something was up. And maybe he hadn’t matured as much as he thought he had, maybe he’d stopped fighting because Draco hadn’t been there to fight with….that was something to think about, definitely.

Draco frowned, “Why would there be hoops? You want a membership and you’re famous enough to get in here on your own without the bouncer even saying anything to me. If I’d known you were the nightclub type I would have sent you an invitation to join when I opened this place…but I never pegged you for the partying type.” He eyed the bright blue glass in Harry’s hand, “Never pegged you as much of a drinker either….I can see I was right on at least one….”

Harry flushed, “Yeah well, the guy next to me ordered this. I had no idea what it was and I didn’t see anything good on that shelf behind the bartender, so I ordered the same thing.”

“The guy next to you was either gay or ordering it for his girlfriend.” Draco laughed, “I’ve never seen a straight man drink a Hurricane…though they are quite good if you like fruit.” He stole Harry’s glass, replacing it with the card, and took a small sip. “Hmm….a little weak…I’ll have to talk to my bartenders….”

Harry blinked again, first at the card and then at Draco who was still drinking from his Hurricane. Did that mean Draco was gay? Well….that was something to tell the judging panel….but more importantly….”I don’t get it.”

“Well Potter, if my bartenders are watering down drinks and charging the same amount, then that’s unfair to the customers. Plus it doesn’t taste nearly as good and no one will buy something that they don’t like the taste of.” Draco said slowly.

“No Malfoy, I mean I don’t get why you’re being…well…not a complete jackass.” Harry said, just as slowly.

It was Draco’s turn to blink, “Do you want me to be a jackass?”

“Well no, but…”

“Because I could hex you here and now if you really wanted me to….I didn’t know you had a pain fetish but I’m more than willing to oblige….”

“Malfoy, you suck.” Harry muttered.

“Here? Now? Hmm…you’re a voyeur as well….this is a side of you I’ve never seen before Potter.” Draco was smirking again, the evil bastard ™ smirk, and this time the ‘something else’ wasn’t beneath it but quite clearly part of it. “I like it…but does little miss Ginny know?”

“Malfoy….” Harry growled threateningly. This was more like the Malfoy he knew. Any second now they would be at wands point, the way it should be.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Oh calm down Potter, I’m just messing with you,” He said and motioned the bartender over. “Two more hurricanes please, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that the drinks aren’t quite up to strength tonight. Fix it.” The bartender, properly abashed, nodded and conjured up two hurricanes. Malfoy took a sip of his and nodded, “Much better. Keep them this way….Potter, stop staring at me as if I’ve grown two heads,” He sighed, “Is it really so strange that I’m speaking civilly to you?”

“Uh…yes?” Harry snorted, “You never have before…though I don’t think making insinuations about my sexual preferences is necessarily ‘civil’ conversation.”

“Insinuations? So you aren’t a masochistic voyeur then? Pity.” Draco had one eyebrow lifted. “That would have made things so much more interesting.”

“You know what, I take it back, you are a jackass.” Harry said, standing since his legs were working just fine now. “And I really don’t think I’ll be joining your little club. In fact, I think I’m going to go home now. So, thanks for the confusing conversation, and good luck with everything.”

“And to you as well,” Draco said, unfazed, “Give my regards to Ginny.”

“Sure, whatever, Malfoy.” Harry sighed, “Bye.” And with that he started weaving his way back through the dancers, glancing over his shoulder only once to see that Draco had leaned forward out of the shadow of the booth and was watching him go. “Weird.” Harry muttered to himself, shaking his head, “Really, really weird…”
****************************************************

Back in the booth, Draco Malfoy watched Harry go, quite happily. It was almost as good watching Harry walk away as it was watching him walk up…maybe better. Damn those were good pants. Is that what Harry had been hiding under his robes in school, or had Ginny Weasley worked her magic on him and his wardrobe? The long hair was most definitely Ginny’s influence, he knew that much from the little bit of time he’d spoken to her before he’d moved away, and from the letters they exchanged every now and then. Her brother was married to his cousin after all, and he’d been there for the wedding. He’d wanted to spark things up again with her (she’d gotten quite foxy since her 4th year) but couldn’t in the presence of her many brothers if he wanted to keep his nose perfect, so he settled for becoming her owl-pal. They didn’t talk much, but he had let her know that he was back in town and she had in turn told him that she was shagging Potter, and he could see why. Potter had grown up nicely, who knew that Qudditch and starvation would equal a great body? Maybe Ginny would share….

A/N: And I end it here for the night, and ask that you, my lovely readers, please review! It keeps me happy and a happy author is a writing author. I’m taking it slow on this one, I think, not my usual wham, smutty goodness, joke, joke, joke, angst, more smut, dance routine, big finish, jazz hands story….but then again, who knows where the muses shall take me. All I know for sure is that there is going to be Harry/Draco/Ginny action, because hell, that’s hot, but it might take a few chapters to get there. Don’t worry though, as my loyal readers know, I’m pretty good at updating when I say I’m going to update…unless I get drunk or sick or, in the case of my Pirates story, pregnant. But I’m not anticipating another pregnancy anytime soon, and I don’t drink very often at all, except on special occasions, of which there are none coming up except my twins’ birthdays on the first. So unless I get sick, updates will be regularly on Mondays and Fridays. Alright, now, review! Let my overly large ego know how much you love me!