Fighting Silence

Chapter 5

By lierdumoa


It was eleven thirty, and Draco stood in the bathroom adjusting a few stray hairs before the mirror. He frowned, his reflection imitating his expression. *Oh, sod this,* he thought, shoving himself away from the glass. *I'm a Malfoy. I'm gorgeous. Why am I wasting time here?* He turned towards the door to leave.

Pansy was leaning against the doorframe seductively, a flatteringly spare nightgown carefully delineating every curve of her form. She arched an elegant eyebrow at him. "Going somewhere? To see me, perhaps?"

Draco paused to consider her offer. A detached and analytical part of his mind noted that the girl looked completely ravishing. But Draco's mind dismissed the vision before him and conjured up another - one of Harry Potter, dim light reflecting onto him from the still surface of the lake, covered in shifting shadows and little else. Draco smiled. "Not tonight, luv. I've got a more pressing engagement."

Pansy was surprised and offended. Draco had turned her down. No one turned her down. What on earth could be considered a more pressing engagement than a night with her? Something was very wrong. *What aren't you telling me, Draco?* She watched the blonde sweep past her into the hallway. She didn't follow him, knowing that she wasn't stealthy enough to slip by Draco's notice. However, she could tell from the direction he took that he was headed outdoors. She walked to the astronomy tower, knowing that she'd be able to view most of Hogwarts' grounds from that vantage point.

She reached her destination and looked out the large windows to find Draco walking speedily towards the lake. He continued around the body of water until he reached the far side. She watched as he stood there, as if in wait. Suddenly a disembodied head appeared next to him. She grabbed one of the telescopes and reoriented it to point downwards at the unfolding drama. The head belonged to...Potter? Draco whipped out his wand and pointed it at the Gryffindor, and nothing could have prepared Pansy for what Draco did next.


Harry woke up to the sound of ringing. He looked at the clock: 12:00 AM. He cursed, suddenly, calling himself ten kinds of idiot. Draco had asked to meet by the lake at midnight. He should have set his alarm for a quarter till so he'd have time to throw on some clothes. He cast a quick charm to ensure none of his roommates would wake up. He then grabbed his invisibility cloak and threw it on over his t-shirt and boxers, shoved his feet into sneakers, and left the Gryffindor boys' dorm at a dead run.

By the time he reached the lake, it was 12:03. He ran up to Draco and threw off the hood of his cloak.

"You're late," said Draco with a frown. "I thought you weren't going to show."

"And miss all this?" Harry said. He pulled his cloak tighter around him. The air was frigid, and Harry could see his breath - not a good sign. "What are we here for anyway?"

Draco whipped out his wand and pointed it at Harry, who jumped back, startled. "Frioritus," he hissed.

Harry felt a slow warmth prickle in his toes and grow to an uncomfortable feverish heat. "Draco, wha-"

Draco ignored Harry's distress, pointing his wand at himself and muttering the same incantation. "We're going for a swim, Potter." And at that, the blond stripped away his clothing and dove in.

Harry was struck dumb at the sight of the pale, delectably nude form hurtling into the lake. It took a few moments for him to shake himself out of his daze and shed his own clothing. He tested the water with his hand, finding it to be pleasantly cool around his fingers. "A heat spell?"

"No, actually. It cools your body temperature so that everything around you feels warmer in comparison."

"That's clever."

"Are you going to get in or what?"

Harry grinned and leaped into the water, splashing Draco as he impacted with the surface. He resurfaced to find Draco sputtering and cursing. Harry threw back his head and laughed. The pair fought in the water and frolicked until exhaustion made them crawl out onto the grassy bank and rest.

They lay on the ground, breathing hard. Draco was the first to sit up, and he crawled over to Harry's supine form, straddling Harry's thighs and lowering his lips to the Gryffindor's mouth. Harry inhaled sharply at the contact. Draco moved his mouth to Harry's jaw, licking away every droplet of water. The spell was beginning to fade, and the sensation of cold air combined with the warm heat of Draco's mouth sent chills up and down Harry's spine. Draco licked and nibbled at Harry's skin, finding a sensitive spot beneath the ear, another at the side of the neck, another at the base of the throat, making Harry gasp and shudder, tremble and melt. Draco trailed his fingers along Harry's damp stomach, causing a slightly ticklish sensation which set Harry to shivering.

Draco was fascinated by the effect of moisture. It made Harry's skin soft and slick. It beaded in his eyelashes and dripped from his hair. Draco delighted at the ease in which Harry slid against him as the Gryffindor lifted his hips to Draco's, inviting, beckoning, pleading. Draco slowed the explorations of his hands and mouth, prolonging the torture. He moved his hand downwards, pressing at yet another sensitive area just behind Harry's balls, and watched as Harry jerked sharply against him, a frayed scream tearing out of his mouth. Harry's moans turned to chanting, his voice hoarse and demanding, his words running against each other in an unintelligible jumble. Draco jammed two fingers through Harry's sphincter, eliciting a strange, keening wail. Harry finally reached down and with a fumbling hand yanked out Draco's devious hand, took hold of the blonde's hips, and pulled himself up onto them. Draco's reaction was automatic. He drove forward in a spasm, burying himself in Harry's arse, coming with a single thrust.

When both bodies stopped twitching from aftershocks, Harry crawled out from under Draco. He stumbled back towards the lake, capturing water in his hands and washing evidence of the tryst from his body. He took another handful of water and cleaned Draco's stomach, smiling as the Slytherin reacted to the wiping motions of his hands. He looked up into half shut gray eyes, caught by a look of blatant possessiveness mingled with lassitude. His own green eyes answered in kind. He lowered his gaze once more to Draco's crotch, then lowered his mouth. Draco whined, too tired and helpless to do anything but succumb to the pleasure. Harry moved down the member, this time suppressing his gag reflex to slide down and envelop the entire length. He swallowed around the shaft. The next sound to come from Draco could only be described as a purr.

An hour or so later, the two stumbled back to their respective dorms, completely oblivious of the lone female figure standing in the astronomy tower, white with rage, shards from a crushed telescope lens cutting into the flesh of her palm.


Pansy stared blankly down at her hand. After a long minute it began to register in her mind that she was bleeding. She stumbled out of the astronomy tower, still numb with shock, and began to make her way toward the hospital wing.

Thoughts furiously rippled through her mind. Rumor had it Draco hadn't fucked anyone in weeks. Apparently rumor was wrong. Draco was carrying on with Harry Potter. She spat the name aloud. Draco was having a secret and exclusive relationship with Potter. This was all very wrong. Draco Malfoy didn't have exclusive relationships.

Except that now he did. She could not believe the bastard had rejected her for Potter - the champion of Gryffindor. She'd seen the way the two had acted together. Draco had never been like that with her. Something told her he never would be. Something told her that dreams of romance and prestige, of marrying into the Malfoy line, would never be realized.

She was struck by a desperate need to hurt Draco. He'd crushed her dreams. She would crush him. She stopped in her tracks, reversing her direction to head towards her room instead of the infirmary. When she reached her dorm she grabbed parchment and a quill, scrawling in the perfect penmanship of the aristocracy all the incriminating information needed to bury Draco, and perhaps his green eyed lover as well. She sealed the letter in an envelope and tied it to her owls leg. "Send this to -"

*Who to send it to? Who could get the bastard where it hurts? Not his father - someone worse...*

She came to a sudden decision, whispering a name in her birds ear and sending it out the window. She sat for hours in the darkness, stewing in her anger and the pain of rejection. She'd seen the look in Draco's eyes. How dare he look at Potter like that? Like he fucking loved him. Like he'd fucking do anything for him. Like he...

"Oh gods, what have I done?"



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