Title: (Not) Suffering The Consequences, Part 1
Warnings: Slash (surprise, surprise), PWP (basically)
Genre: Porn, Romance, Humor(?)
A/N: This is the Sequel to Better Not Be Late.
Summary: Harry has a dream after the 'incident'. It occurs to him he somewhat, although against his will, is in Malfoy's debt. Of course, his inner Gryffindor cannot allow that...
Disclaimer: I still own nothing but my poor soul.
(Not) Suffering The Consequences
or 'Trying to get even'
'Hey, Potter" someone said.
Harry whirled around but saw nothing but the trees of the Forbidden Forest. He continued running, nearly tripping as his robe caught in a bush nearby. He freed himself and continued his flight through the dark forest. Suddenly someone caught his arm.
"How'd you sleep?"
Harry looked from the hand that was grasped around his upper arm up to the Slytherin ropes until he reached his attacker's face.
"Surprised to see me, Potter?" Draco Malfoy asked.
"Don't know... should've gotten used to you sneaking up on people, now, shouldn't I?" Harry retorted.
Draco grinned widely and showed his pearl white teeth.
"So, how'd you like it? It's a good feeling, isn't it?"
The Slytherin's fingertips were wandering up and down Harry's arm, caressing his sides with the back of his hands.
"No, it's not" Harry wanted to scream but it came out in a breath.
"Keep telling yourself that and you might believe it one day... Your pride must be wounded greatly since you know that you get turned on by 'the ferret boy Malfoy', correct me if it's not so, Potter"
Harry pried the hands away and ran.
"Harry, you know you owe me!" he heard being shouted after him.
Suddenly Malfoy appeared right in front of him again, leaning casually against a tree, quirking an eye brow.
"No, I don't... I didn't... want this... You..." Harry started.
"You're right" Malfoy sighed. "And anyways, you're not that hot after all. Still, you did want it."
"I did not."
"Whatever makes you sleep at night, Potter"
And he was alone again. Alone on the top of the north tower, starring onto the Hogwarts grounds. Watching the dragons fly around and...
Harry woke up with a start. He sat up quickly and his glasses fell down. Slowly picking them up Harry leaned against his pillow, starring at the ceiling of his bed. Collecting his thoughts he suddenly grinned. It had been a dream, thank Merlin!
He crawled from under his blanket but turned beat red in an instant, pulling the blanket back over him as fast as possible. Carefully poking his head out of his curtains he took a glance at the other sleeping Gryffindor boys. Then he looked at his clock. 5:27 am.
He closed his curtains and fell back into his bed. Damn it! His hand wandered to the waist of his pyjama, slowly stroking himself, taking care of the dream's reminder.
No! It wasn't from the dream. It couldn't be! He couldn't possibly be turned on by this son of a Death Eater. The image of Malfoy flashed through his mind and Harry came into his pants. He continued to lay there to catch his breath. After a while he muttered a cleaning spell and got up.
All the while dressing and showering he thought of how horrible his day would be. He even considered the possibility of pretending to be sick but he knew it was just a short-time solution. All he could do was pray and have faith in Malfoy's pride preventing him from telling everyone what had happened.
He knew for sure that it was weeks, if not month or a life time of humiliating, black- mailing and worse. He replayed his dream again. Even small thing like: "It's a good feeling, isn't it?" would make Harry flinch and he didn't know how he should react if people asked him what that was all about.
Having skipped all yesterday's classes after DADA, Hermione had already gotten suspicious when Harry told her something about stomach ache while stuffing sausages into his mouth as fast as possible so he could leave dinner before Malfoy would arrive.
His first classes were both Herbology - thankfully with the Hufflepuffs. When he, Ron and Hermione walked down to the green house, Harry noticed an all too familiar painting on the wall.
"Hermione, Ron, wait... how'd you get to DADA yesterday?" he asked the two of them.
He had totally forgotten to ask himself how he had actually gotten into his 'misery' after he had sneaked out of the room and locked himself up in the boy's dormitory the previous day.
"Well, we met up with Professor McFidget and went through a secret door on second floor. Why are you asking?" Hermione wanted to know.
"You went... I mean, there was a door?" Harry was stunned.
"No, there was a wall. As I pointed out, it was a secret door. Professor McFidget had to cast a spell to make it visible. I think he sealed it from the inside after we all were in, I figure that's why you couldn't get in anymore."
Harry stopped and looked back. At least he wanted to know why he deserved being locked in a cold, dark room with that... whatever.
"You guys go ahead, okay? Tell Professor Sprout I'll run a little late."
Hermione gave him a disapproving look but Ron nodded and dragged her with him.
Harry ran back to the painting he had noticed. It was the same painting from second floor, Amor and Venus, only it wasn't on second floor anymore.
"What are you doing here? Weren't you on another floor just yesterday?" he demanded.
Venus shook her hair and laughed.
"We like a change from time to time" she smiled and her eyes twinkled.
Harry wasn't in the mood to listen to her melodic laughing or let himself be charmed by her smile. He was angry.
"I didn't get to the right room. You sent me to the wrong one" Harry accused.
Putting his arm around the goddesses shoulder Amor shook his head.
"No, we did not. We sent you to the exact room you demanded of us to be sent to with your spell. Name amore desira. The room to hold my desire and love." he smiled.
Harry nearly choked and thought back. Remembering having used his Marauders’ map he turned his focus on the two painted figures again.
"This... boy, d'you remember him? Blond, tall, Slytherin" Harry turned red again at his description "pale face..." he added.
"Yes, dear, what about him?" Venus said.
"How'd he get in?"
"Well, he also got what he deserved. He tried to get in by force. So he got to the only room he could get in by force, he's probably lucky you found him or otherwise he might not have gotten out." Amor explained.
"So, you grant access to more than one room? Depending on how you try to get in, is that it?"
The pair nodded.
"We also deny access to rooms. That is why we were on the other floor last time."
Harry nodded and turned to walk away.
Great, now even his father's sacred Marauders’ map had betrayed him. He hurried to Herbology, knocked and mumbled some excuse to Professor Sprout.
Harry sat straight and tense. They were in the great hall, having lunch. Hermione sent him worried glances which he ignored. All Ron had eyes for was his food so Hermione was the only one who noticed Harry hadn't touched his food once and was nervous as hell.
His back was stiff, facing towards the Slytherin table. He had managed not to look at it since arriving. He knew something awful would happen if he did and so he ended up sitting there stiff as a board, waiting for his friends to finish eating.
On a certain level Harry was relieved; apparently Malfoy hadn't said anything to anyone. Not to Harry or anyone else. Fair enough, it was not like Harry had given him a chance to talk to him and it was probably just a matter of time, Harry was sure. Draco Malfoy would not miss the chance to humiliate him for the Quidditch World Cup.
Harry's eyes betrayed him and despite his earlier reasoning they slipped over to the Slytherin table, gluing themselves to a certain blond head. The blond looked up and lazy eyes met Harry's. Harry turned around as fast as possible. He always got himself caught... no matter what he did. Now Malfoy had seen him starring and had -Harry paused - looked indifferent.
Secretly shooting another glance over at Malfoy Harry saw that he had turned his attention back to his food, looking almost bored. It seemed he hadn't noticed Harry looking after all but Harry could swear that he had...
Harry was taken aback. It was impossible... or Harry had to have dreamed the whole thing. Harry, you do NOT dream about Malfoy in.. that way, he told himself.
That meant someone had to have cast a memory charm on Malfoy. But why would someone do that?
He would have a chance to find that out since they had Potions after lunch. Not that Harry wasn't relived... he just couldn't trust his luck.
A/N: Sorry, I know always cut off when it’s about to get interesting. But I’ll have to do it somewhere.