Fighting Silence

Chapter 11

By lierdumoa


Harry scrubbed a hand roughly down his face. He then let out a high-pitched, slightly hysterical giggle. *Well - this is...* He shakily lowered his hand to his trousers, adjusting the cloth over the sticky, lukewarm mess within. *This is...* He clambered awkwardly to his feet and stood for a moment, swaying slightly under a brief wave of vertigo.

*This is bad.*

The lunch bell rang. Harry shoved himself in the direction of the nearest bathroom to clean up. Thoughts whirled madly about his head. He burst through heavy doors, heading straight for the faucet, splashing cool water onto his flushed face. Harry took in a sharp breath, and let it out slowly. He then slumped against the sink and forced his muscles to relax their panicky twitch. His mind was racing. There had to be a reasonable explanation for what had just occurred.

A minute or so passed, and then Harry suddenly experienced a shocking moment of clarity:

*This is all Draco's fault.*

Harry leaped up from his slouch and nearly ran out of the bathroom in search of the blonde, a resolute gleam in his eyes.

*I'm going to kill him.*


Draco was only a few yards from the entrance to the dining hall when he was accosted. Harry shoved him roughly up against the doors to the room. The Slytherin yelped in surprise. "Coming from class, Draco?"

"No, actually. I was just using the toilet." He turned his gaze to Harry's hands at his collar. "Do you mind. I don't want to walk in all rumpled."

Harry dropped his hands. "Tell me, Draco - what's a bloke like you doing in the toilet during class time?"

Draco snorted. "Not what you're thinking. I had to urinate." He looked pointedly at Harry. "As a bloke is wont to do."

Harry stepped back. "Right. Of course. What was I thinking?"

Draco started to turn back toward the dining hall.

"Actually, I wasn't thinking. I must have been preoccupied. You know how distracted one can get in Charms."

Draco took a step towards the doors.

"What, with the lectures, and the wand waving..."

Draco took another step.

"...and the hand at my cock, and the wet fingers shoved up my arse, and the cramp in my thigh from leaning against...Oh, wait. Now that would be your thigh, wouldn't it." Harry began to advance on Draco once again. "And your arse. And your fingers. And your cock. Hell, I'm pretty sure it was *your* orgasm I just had."


"Right now Ron's wondering why I ran out of class in such a panic."

Draco stilled, an utterly stupefied expression on his face. He opened his mouth, only to close it again. Harry sighed.

"Go to Snape. Now. Ask him about the potion."

And then, the Boy Who Lived turned and stalked away. The last thing Draco heard was a soft muttering about cleaning spells and changes of clothing and the unfairness of having to come in one's pants on the day that one decides to forego underwear.


"Professor, I need to talk to you."

Snape raised his brows at Draco. This was an unusual occurrence. Rarely did a student dare to call a teacher away from the faculty table in the middle of lunch. Several professors frowned at this disturbance before turning back to their conversations.

Normally, Snape would dismiss such a request, but Draco was his best student, after all, and the young Slytherin looked positively distressed. Snape quickly excused himself and got up from his chair, leading the blonde to his classroom. "This had better be important."

"I assure you it is, professor. I need help in identifying a potion."

"This can't be done later?"

"Unfortunately, no. In this particular situation, time is of the essence."

"Oh, very well. Do you have a sample of this mystery potion?"


Snape let out a silent groan. *Why did I ever become a teacher? I hate children.* He looked back at Draco, who was now chewing nervously on his bottom lip. *I could have refused Albus' offer. I mean, really - Azkaban's not so terrible...* He blinked away his ruminations. "What can you tell me about this potion?"

Draco inhaled deeply. "Well, It's a sort of gold color. Champagne colored, actually. It looks almost exactly like it. Same fluidity, too. It tastes sweet, and sort of tart. At least, it does at first. Then the flavor changes and it starts to taste a lot like bile."

"Curious. How long would you say the flavor takes to change?"

"Ah, I'm not sure. Ten, fifteen seconds, maybe."

"Does the change in flavor occur at the back of the throat, or throughout the entire mouth?"

Draco hated this. It felt like he was giving information away, and he didn't really want Snape to know his secrets. He was tempted to simply not answer Snape's question and excuse himself from this rather uncomfortable conversation.

But Draco needed answers far too badly.

"It starts at the back of the tongue, and then sort of spreads."

Snape paused to consider this information. He then gave Draco a measuring look. His next words came out in a deliberate sneer - "Mr. Malfoy, is this supposed to be some sort of joke?"

Draco's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Not at all, professor. I'm completely serious."

The potions master took a moment to evaluate the sincerity of Draco's expression. At last, he shook his head, and grabbed a scrap of parchment and a quill, quickly scrawling a name onto the paper and handing it to his student. "If that is all, then I had best be getting back to lunch."

Draco tucked the parchment away in his robes. "Thank you, professor."

"Oh, and Mr. Malfoy -" Snape reached into one of his desk drawers, rummaging briefly before pulling out an old volume and handing it to Draco. "I suggest you look in here." He gave Draco a small, strange smile. "You won't be finding that one in Moste Potente Potions."



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