Chapter Text
It was August 31st and the evening before getting on the Hogwarts Express and back to Hogwarts. Harry had stayed the whole summer at the Weasleys, as Dumbledore was no longer there to make him stay at the Dursleys.
Harry thought back on the night Dumbledore had died. Been murdered. It was the night that they had finally found and destroyed the last horcrux. Dumbledore had been weakened by the activities, and Harry hadn’t been paying attention to any possible dangers, partly because he was worried about Dumbledore’s fatigue and partly because of the high he felt at having destroyed the last horcrux. They had arrived on their brooms at the Astronomy tower, and Harry had been about to fetch Snape wearing his invisibility cloak because it was way past curfew, when Lucius Malfoy had suddenly stood there, his wand pointed at Dumbledore. And Dumbledore had cast a Petrificus Totalus on Harry, and even though it was done swiftly, Lucius Malfoy had been able to disarm Dumbledore, before he could react. And Lucius had cast the killing curse. And Harry saw Dumbledore die – the light in his eyes extinguishing. And Dumbledore had fallen from the tower. And Lucius had run. And escaped.
Harry was, of course, guilt ridden.
He had been stalking – no, wait, not stalking. Definitely not stalking. Keeping under surveillance. He had been keeping Malfoy under surveillance all year because he had thought he was up to something. It had turned out that he wasn’t. His father was, though. Harry still wasn’t sure how he got in to the castle, as no one from The Order or the professors had been willing to talk about it.
The Order had started having their meetings in the Burrow’s kitchen. For some reason they had not been able to use Grimmauld Place for the meetings and so had made temporary headquarters of the kitchen in the Burrow. Harry suspected that this was because the Fidelius Charm had died with Dumbledore, and Grimmauld Place was no longer safe as headquarters. He hadn’t bothered to ask, though, as he was pleased with the activity and the buzz of people going in and out of the Burrow at all times. It took the mind off things.
A couple of weeks into the holidays Kingsley had asked Harry to become the new secret keeper for Grimmauld Place as they had finally managed to replace the Fidelius Charm. Harry had, naturally, accepted and had spent an hour one afternoon writing several notes about the location to be given to various order members. Luckily the Order had continued meeting at the Burrow, despite the necessary security measures once again being in place at Grimmauld Place.
Harry, Ron, Ginny and the twins had still not been allowed to join the Order, even though most of them were of age. This was mostly because of Mrs. Weasley, who could be frighteningly intimidating. They had resorted to using the Extendable Ears to listen in on the meetings.
At one of the meetings early into the holidays the topic of Malfoy had come up. Harry and the others had heard Mr. Weasley and Kingsley tell about Malfoy’s decision to leave the Manor and volunteer information and about the interrogation. They had heard Mrs. Weasley’s exclamations of “that poor boy” and “must be so scared” and “very brave of him” and the like several times during the meeting. Harry had been revolted at the notion that anybody could think of Malfoy as a ‘poor, scared, brave boy’.
Harry had read in the Prophet in the beginning of the holidays that Malfoy had renounced his father and his actions and was to live in a safe house due to the danger he would now be in with Voldemort and the other death eaters residing at Malfoy Manor. Harry had thought it was a load of bull. Malfoy was definitely up to something!
Harry still mourned Dumbledore but no longer felt the empty void his death had caused just a few months ago. He knew that this was largely because he had been surrounded by six Weasleys all summer and one Granger for the better part of it. Not to mention the wedding between Bill and Fleur in July, a week prior to Harry’s birthday. That had added several more Weasleys to the party for an entire week as Bill was staying at the Burrow a few days leading up to the wedding and Charlie was home from Romania for an entire week.
His relationship with Ginny had flourished during the holidays. As they had been living in the same house for two months, they had been able to be together in a way that had not been possible at Hogwarts due to Ginny’s OWLs looming over them. At the Burrow the only looming was that of Mrs. Weasley, which they escaped by going for walks together or lying in the tall grass at the bottom of the garden. This was especially nice in the evenings, when the air was still warm and the sky was clear and starlit.
At first, they would just sit together, holding hands, exchanging kisses and just be, but gradually the character of the trysts changed: Their kisses became more passionate, deeper and longer lasting. Hands wandered further, first caressing hair, necks, backs and arms, then moving on to thighs and chests, then breasts, arses and finally crotches. Their groping sessions gradually became more intense.
On Harry’s birthday Ginny and he had wandered to the bottom of the garden after supper out of the view of the Burrow. They lay together on their backs under a large willow on the blanket they had brought, looking up at the sky between the branches which was still blue and bright as day. They lay there for hours holding hands, not talking, till the air started cooling, the sky slowly getting darker. They scooted closer together warming each other.
As if by silent agreement they both turned to their sides, facing each other. They were lying very close to each other, their noses almost touching, and Harry could feel Ginny’s breath on his face. It smelled like mint. Their lips touched and they kissed as they had done many times before that. It was slow and soft. Ginny entangled her hand in Harry’s soft hair and pulled slightly. Harry leaned toward Ginny, gently pushing her on her back, lying half on top of her. He was propped up on his elbow, caressing her with his other arm gently stroking up and down her side.
His hand slowly skidded under her short sleeved tee-shirt, and he slid his hand up her stomach, halting briefly before caressing her breast and kneading it gently.
Ginny opened her thighs slightly and Harry’s leg settled between them. He felt himself grow hard against Ginny’s hip.
He gently twisted her nipple only separated from his fingers by the thin fabric of her bra, and he felt her arch up into him. He began grinding against her hip, and he could feel her responding, grinding against his thigh.
He moved his hand from her breast and let it travel down the smooth skin of her stomach to the top of the elastic band of her skirt. His fingers halted there, fingertips resting under the base of the band, unsure of whether to continue downward. So far they had only ever touched each other on top of their clothes, and they had never discussed each other’s boundaries or limits. Harry felt Ginny grind harder and breathing slightly faster, eyes closed, and he took it as an invitation to continue moving further downwards.
Harry’s hand slid further down and underneath the elastic band of her pants. He felt the soft curls there, and he moved his middle finger further down between her labia.
He pulled back from their kiss, watching her expression intensely, wanting to see her when he hit the right spot. Ginny’s eyes were closed, her lips parted slightly and her breathing fast. She suddenly tensed almost unnoticeable and made a sharp intake of breath. Harry smiled to himself and knew that he had found it. He moved his finger across the same spot again and started gently massaging it. It was wet and slippery there and Harry moved his finger further downward and carefully slid it into Ginny. He moved his finger in and out of her, Ginny bucking her hips against it.
“More”, she whispered, eyes still closed, and Harry added another finger and began moving both fingers. “Harder. Faster”, Ginny whispered, and Harry sped up his movements.
His cock was rock hard and straining against his trousers. Ginny opened her eyes and gave him a glazed look. She pushed his hand away and made to sit up.
Harry sat back against the tree trunk of the willow, and Ginny straddled his thighs. She was grinding against the hard bulge in his trousers, clutching his shoulders and kissing him passionately. Harry groaned into her mouth.
Ginny moved to unbutton his short sleeved shirt and Harry helped her eagerly. She let her hands touch his chest softly, tracing the muscles on his chest and abdomen.
Harry moved his hands to her breasts, and he started kneading them. Ginny lifted her T-shirt over her head and threw it next to them on the blanket. She proceeded to undo her bra and discarded of it, yanking it off. Harry took in the sight of her breasts, perky and soft, and continued kneading and gently pinching her nipples. Ginny lifted herself slightly and arched her back, motioning her breasts towards Harry’s mouth. Harry’s cock twitched as he sucked one of her tits into his mouth. He sucked her nipple, twirling his tongue around it and massaged the other breast, pinching the nipple between the base of his index and middle finger. Ginny leaned her head backwards and moaned. Harry let go of the breast he was sucking and looked up at her. Her head was still thrown backwards, her neck and collarbone exposed. Her skin was bronzed from the sun. Harry leaned forward and licked at the base of her neck, which enticed her to grind quicker and harder.
“Ginny”, Harry panted. She opened her eyes and looked at him, her eyes glazed with desire.
Still looking him in the eyes Ginny reached down between them and slowly unbuckled his belt. She moved to unbutton his trousers and Harry whimpered at the feeling of her hands in his crotch.
Ginny climbed down off his thighs, and began pulling off Harry’s trousers. Harry helped eagerly, kicking them off his calves. He made a sigh of relief when his cock was freed from the strain of the trousers. It was hard as rock and throbbing almost painfully. Ginny glanced at his cock and unconsciously licked her lips. She reached forwards and grabbed around the shaft, moving her hand up and down a couple of times. Harry’s eyes were half shut, and he looked at her through his long dark lashes. Ginny let go of his cock, stood up and reached below her skirt, discarding her knickers and throwing them on the ground.
She climbed on top of Harry again, his back still resting against the tree trunk. She grabbed hold of his cock and started descending on it. It felt tight around him, but it went in easily. Too easily, Harry thought briefly. He had heard that there was usually a certain amount of pain involved the first time, especially for the girl. However, Ginny looked perfectly at ease, the only thing showing on her face being pleasure and want. It wasn’t that he wanted her to be in pain - of course not. He just couldn’t help wondering, though, why she seemed so at ease. So confident. So… experienced. He decided not to dwell on it, not wanting to think about what might or might not have happened in her previous relationships with Michael Corner and Dean Thomas. So he threw aside this thought and enjoyed the sensations going through his body.
It felt soft and wet and wonderful. Harry moaned and closed his eyes as Ginny rode him. She thrust down on his cock, her head tilted back. Her neck and collarbone were once again exposed and Harry leaned in and licked her collarbone. Ginny tilted her head slightly to the side. Harry took this as an invitation to close his mouth around her collarbone and suck there lightly. Ginny whimpered and increased the pace she had set. She was panting harder, and it was the most sensual thing, Harry had ever heard. He, too, was panting and groaning. He thrust up into her, meeting her pace.
Harry could feel that he would not last long, so he grabbed Ginny around her waist and shifted their bodies, so she was lying on her back on the ground, Harry on top of her. She threw her legs around his waist and locked her ankles on his back. Harry began thrusting into her hard and fast, his elbows resting on either side of her head. He felt drops of sweat dripping into his eyes and his fringe sticking to his sweaty forehead.
Ginny was clinging to him. She was whimpering, almost chanting “yes, yes, yes”. Harry could hear her breathing becoming faster and in shallow gasps. She was writhing beneath him, her eyes shut tight. Suddenly, she froze and her entire body became rigid. Her eyes opened wide and her brown eyes focused on Harry’s green ones. The intense eye contact only lasted a moment – then her eyes shut tightly, she threw her head backwards and arched up into Harry as she cried out.
Harry could feel her contracting around his cock. He felt the familiar sensation of an orgasm approaching. It began in his belly, a tickling feeling and incredible warmth spreading in his abdomen and moving towards his groin. He was panting and groaning, moving at top speed. He thrust into her hard three more times before convulsing intensely and emptying himself inside her moaning a loud “Oh fuck” and sighing with relief.
Harry collapsed on top of her, his heart beating fast. He lay there a couple of minutes when he felt her move slightly underneath him and suddenly became aware that he was slumped limply on top of her. Not wanting to crush her, he slid down and lay next to her on the ground.
They lay bareback on the ground, as the blanket had been crumpled and apparently kicked to the side in the heat of things. Harry was almost surprised to find that nightfall had begun. Already a few stars were out and the moon was shining bright.
Harry turned his head to look at Ginny, who was lying next to him with her eyes closed. Her cheeks were flushed and a smile played on her lips. She turned her head to look at him, and Harry returned her smile with a sheepish grin.
“That was amazing,” he said.
“Yeah,” she responded. “Happy birthday, Harry.”
Harry looked at her and smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “Hey. I can do magic outside of school now”. He reached in his trouser pocket and grabbed his wand. He pointed it at his crotch. “Tergeo,” he said, and the come that was still left on his now limp cock disappeared. He pointed his wand at Ginny’s crotch and did the spell again.
“Thank you,” she said. “Tends to get a bit sticky after a while”. Harry chose not to dwell on that comment either.
Ginny sat up. “Better get back to your party. Wouldn’t want to miss the cake”, she said. She looked around and found her knickers crumpled up along with the blanket. She got to her feet and put them on.
“I don’t care about cake”, he answered dreamily. “I’d rather just fall asleep and lie here all night with you.”
“Me too,” she said smiling slightly at him while pulling her tee-shirt back on, “but mum will throw a fit, if I make you miss your cake”.
“Point”, Harry said and stood up. He stretched his body and made a humming satisfied sound.
“Are you going to put your pants and trousers back on, Harry?” Ginny asked with a grin and an amused tone in her voice.
Harry looked down his body and felt almost surprised to find himself naked from the waist down and his shirt unbuttoned. “Right,” he said, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Good idea”.
Harry located his trousers and boxers and pulled them on. He then proceeded to button up his shirt.
When they were both dressed, Harry put his arms around Ginny’s neck, and she put hers around his waist. They kissed. A long and lingering kiss full of promises.
They walked slowly back to the Burrow. Harry had his arm around Ginny’s shoulder, and they were chatting idly.
When they got back to the front yard, they were greeted by Ron and Hermione who appeared to be standing quite close to each other but moved a bit further apart, when they noticed Harry and Ginny. Harry couldn’t help the goofy grin slowly widening on his face.
Ron and Hermione both looked at them. Hermione was smirking visibly, and Ron was narrowing his eyes, suspiciously.
“You might want to tidy yourselves up a bit before you join the others,” Hermione said. “Ginny, you have twigs in your hair and your shirt is inside out. And Harry, you missed a button, and your shirt looks like you’ve been rubbing it against a tree trunk,” she added.
Ron looked away, blushing, as Ginny took off her T-shirt and moved it the right side out.
Harry looked down himself and realized that he had indeed missed a button. He unbuttoned and re-buttoned it and tried his best to straighten the creases and brush his own back, as Hermione was helping Ginny remove the twigs from her hair.
Ron’s face was getting redder by the minute, his eyes were wide open, and he looked almost panicking. Harry couldn’t quite meet his eyes and was also blushing furiously.
Ginny looked at Ron, her eyebrows lifted. “What?” she said. Ron didn’t answer but looked accusingly at Harry, who was looking down, still unable to meet Ron’s eyes.
“Ron, seriously,” Ginny said. “Don’t get mad at Harry. I instigated it. Besides, it’s just sex; it’s no big deal.”
That last remark stung, as Harry actually thought it was a big deal, but he chose to push the slight feeling of hurt aside.
Ron looked back and forth between Harry and Ginny, his face still red. He then looked to Hermione, looking almost desperate as if wordlessly asking Hermione what to do. Hermione shrugged, and Ron finally resigned. He looked slightly ill, then groaned and turned around walking towards the house with his head down.
Harry looked up at Hermione who smirked at him. “Interesting,” she said holding his gaze.
Harry gave her a lopsided smile, and she, too, turned to walk towards the house.
He turned to look at Ginny, who grinned at him. She reached up and cupped his cheeks gently, then kissed him deeply.
Harry felt himself starting to grow hard again and broke the kiss. “Ah… This might not be a good idea right now,” he said.
Ginny looked at him and lifted an eyebrow. She then let her hand wander down his chest to his groin and squeeze gently.
Harry made a sharp intake of breath and bit his lower lip.
Ginny removed her hand, winked at him and, like Ron and Hermione, walked towards the house.
Harry stood still, looking after her as she walked away. How did he get so lucky?
He waited till he could feel his cock deflating and then went back to the Burrow to join his birthday party.
*
Draco’s summer so far had sucked to say the least. Immediately after the school learned about Dumbledore’s death, he had run to the new headmistress’ office, terrified of what had happened. He had been completely unprepared and completely unaware. And he felt used. He had offered to tell her everything he knew about his father, the other death eaters and the Dark Lord in return for being moved to a safe house during the summer holidays, so that he would be safe until school started again. He had been a mess. Panicking and sobbing. While McGonagall had contacted the Order of the Phoenix, he had caught a glimpse of his own reflexion in a mirror hanging on the wall. He had winced at his own appearance: He was trembling, his hair was a mess, he was even paler than normal, his eyes were red rimmed, there were visible traces of tears down his cheeks, and he had a haunted expression on his face. It was excruciatingly undignified. Not becoming of a Malfoy at all, but he had been unable to compose himself.
Some Order members had arrived by floo mere seconds after McGonagall had cast her Patronus, and the deal was in place and a safe house found in less than five minutes.
After the deal was in order, they had interrogated him thoroughly, and he had told them that the Dark Lord currently resided in Malfoy Manor. He had told them the names of the death eaters he knew of and a few that he had heard mentioned on occasion. He had, to the best of his knowledge, told them about the sort of magic each death eater favoured and the various dark spells he had come across. He had told them how his father had been assigned to killing Dumbledore and how his father had made a gold watch with the Malfoy crest into a portkey and given it to him on his 17th birthday as was wizarding tradition. Consequently, Draco had unknowingly been part in letting his father into the school. He had not known that the watch was a portkey until he had seen the glow and his father had stood directly in front of him in the middle of the dungeons.
The Order had questioned him quite aggressively on that part, as if they were not quite sure that he had not had any knowledge of the portkey. Draco had volunteered after that to do the whole interrogation over again on Veritaserum.
He had continued to tell them, how he was scared of his father’s plans, confused that he was actually disagreeing with and questioning the sensibility and necessity of it, frustrated and angry with both himself and his father as he found himself wondering if maybe the ideals he was brought up with were not entirely true, and lastly how fucking terrified he was because he was realizing that his father bowed to a madman, who would most definitely torture and kill both him and his parents, should his father fail to complete the task that was bestowed upon him. Who had tortured and killed. He had made Draco’s father torture his mother when he had failed to retrieve the prophecy from the ministry. And he had made Draco watch. He told them how he had confided in Dumbledore, knowing that it might well mean his own death. Dumbledore, however, had made him promise not to interfere with his father’s plans and had sworn him to secrecy. As to why, Draco had no idea, other than the assumption that he was barking mad, which was, of course, what he had always suspected.
He had not been able to tell them anything concrete about the Dark Lord’s plans other than titbits he had heard in the halls and from death eaters talking when they didn’t realize that he was within hearing range. Only those who had already received the Mark had been let in on the plans.
Draco had made sure that the deal included his mother, and that she had the offer of moving with him to the safe house. He had summoned one of the Manor’s house elves as soon as the deal was made and made sure to tell the elf that no one but his mother must be informed of the plan and to make sure that no one overheard. The elf was to inform her that her answer was needed right away and that it would not be possible to say good bye or inform her husband. Because of the Fidelius charm the elf would not be able to inform her of the address until she was informed by the secret keeper, but was forbidden, even so, to give any unnecessary details about the plan, and was to apparate with her side-along to the house immediately after she agreed.
The elf was to then return to the Manor and pack his mother’s vital items and clothing and return with it. Draco already had all that he needed in his school trunk.
His mother had, luckily, accepted the offer, and they were now currently living in a house in muggle London that functioned as both safe house and headquarters to the Order, although at the moment they seemed to be having their Order-meetings someplace else.
Apparently the house had belonged to his mother’s aunt Walburga, and she had visited there often when she was younger. How the house had come to belong to the Order, he had no idea, and he was not inclined to ask.
Draco had wondered several times, if he would be able to stay in the Slytherin dorms, or if he would be considered a traitor and a moving target. He hoped that the Slytherins’ understanding of self-preservation would be enough to offer him some leniency on his classmates’ part. However he could not deny that he was nervous.
It was therefore to his immense relief that the headmistress one day stepped out of the fireplace and informed him that the majority of the other Slytherins in his year had expressed that he would not be a target and that they would support him. Draco had very much doubted their sincerity at first, but McGonagall informed him that his classmates had all volunteered to take Veritaserum. Draco hadn’t realised before then that he had been mentally holding his breath. He felt himself relaxing considerably.
Once in a while a member of the Order would drop by to check on him and his mother and to check whether his father had tried to contact them. He had not, and Draco wasn’t expecting him to.
He found it surprisingly easy to live without his father. The reason for this was, perhaps, that his father had become increasingly unstable during the last year, when the Dark Lord had taken residence in the Manor. His father had done his bidding without question, acting as his right hand man and awarded punishments when someone or something had displeased the madman.
Draco shuddered when he thought of the things his father had done; he had, among other things, tortured Dolohov for hours when Dolohov had dared to ask a question about the Dark Lord’s plan. He had tortured a house elf for the Dark Lord’s amusement, and the poor thing hadn’t even done anything wrong, and he had killed Draco’s owl when it delivered news from Snape of the level of strength of the wards placed on Hogwarts. But the thoughts and images that kept him up at night and, when he finally did fall asleep, haunted his sleep with nightmares, were those of his father torturing his mother when Draco had failed to punish Rookwood to the Dark Lord’s satisfaction. His father hadn’t even questioned the order to torture his own wife or even hesitated. Draco himself had been on the receiving end of the Cruciatus Curse more than a few times as well, also by the hand of his father, but never as long time in a row as his mother had had to endure.
What also kept Draco up at night were the thoughts of his aunt Bellatrix and the images she had planted in his head using Legilimency on him. Draco was skilled at both Legilimency and Occlumency but certainly no match to his aunt. She had planted images of his mother lying murdered and blood spattered on the floor, of Fenrir Greyback feasting in her flesh and of himself being the one who tortured and murdered her, the only person he loved with his entire being. He knew it wasn’t real and that they were just images, but they were terrifying nonetheless. Draco remembered being happy when she had first escaped from Azkaban during his 5th year at Hogwarts. He had soon, however, discovered that she was crazy and utterly insane; she would cast hexes and curses for fun at unsuspecting passers-by, laughing maniacally, and she had an unnaturally close relationship with Greyback, who also took residence in the Manor.
Yes, Draco was glad to be out.
He was looking forward to being back at Hogwarts, although he was concerned for his mother’s well-being, when she had to be all alone in the big house. She had tried to set his mind at ease, saying there would be Order members stopping by now and then, so she wouldn’t be completely alone, and that there were also two house elves to keep her company. As if that was any kind of consolation. One of the elves was Draco’s own elf and the one he had summoned to get his mother out of the Manor. Bilbo was his name. The other one was a strange old elf that had been with the Black Family for what must be centuries, judging by the appearance of him. Kreacher. That one was just plain weird. He kept on going on and on about the honour of The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black finally being inhabited by magnificent honourable pure blood and about the joy of serving on “the worthy” and not serve on blood traitors and mudbloods. Draco had liked the elf’s doting at first, but when he began praising Draco’s “fair and beautiful complexion befitting a wizard of the purest blood – not like his master” and his “hair shining brighter than a thousand stars, as would the hair of a wizard of the purest blood – not like his master”, Draco had become creeped out and avoided asking the elf for anything. His mother had told him that the old Black Family elf was harmless and “really very sweet when you know how to handle him”. Draco just found him creepy.
The 1st of September found Draco at platform nine and three quarters, flanked by Order members as to ensure his safety until the train left, by when the professors would. He recognised one of them as Mad Eye Moody, who had been teaching at Hogwarts his 4th year. Well, at least a copy of him had been teaching there. A shiver went down his spine as he vividly recalled his brief state as a ferret. So humiliating! There was a woman with pink hair who looked vaguely familiar, and Weasley Senior was hovering nearby, keeping an eye on him as well as saying good bye to the Weasel and the Weaselette.
When he boarded the train Draco saw someone coming up to greet the Order members heartedly. He noticed the familiar mess of black hair and sneered inwardly. Of course Potter would be friendly with the Order members. “Pretentious little shit,” Draco said to himself and went to find a compartment.
*
After having said his goodbyes to Tonks, Moody and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry boarded the train together with Ron, Hermione and Ginny. They found an empty compartment near the back of the train and went to sit there. They were joined not long after by Neville and Luna.
As the train started moving, Harry couldn’t help but wonder how it was going to be to go back to Hogwarts without Dumbledore sitting at the High Table in the Great Hall. He felt his throat tightening and decided to stop thinking about Dumbledore and enjoy the train ride. One of the last ones.
When the food trolley arrived, they stocked up on chocolate frogs, liquorish wands, Bertie Botts’ Multi Flavour Beans, pumpkin pasties and bottles of pumpkin juice. Harry again felt a lump in his throat when he discovered Dumbledore on one of his chocolate frog cards.
Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville were exchanging holiday experiences, and Luna was reading the latest edition of The Quibbler. Harry was looking out the window, staring at nothing, when he got the distinct feeling of being watched. He turned around and saw Ginny watching him from the seat across from him with an almost hungry expression on her face, as if she was undressing him mentally. He looked back at her, imagining her naked and aroused and him doing all sorts of things to her, and he tried his hardest to convey his thoughts to her.
Ginny stood up and made to leave the compartment. She made a slight gesture towards the door with her head, and he stood up to follow her. As they opened the compartment door, Ron’s head flew up, his eyes alert and narrowed.
“Where are you going,” he asked quite loudly, and the others looked up as well, save Luna who was still immersed in her magazine.
Harry’s face felt very hot all of a sudden, and Ron’s eyes narrowed further. “Uhm… We were just… I…,” Harry stuttered, turning towards Ginny who just stood there with an amused look on her face. “I… We… Hey look, there’s Seamus,” Harry said and rushed past Ginny out of the compartment. She followed him, laughing, and Harry looked at her in disbelief. “That was so not funny,” he said.
“It really was, though,” Ginny answered. “Did you see the look on Ron’s face?”
Harry recalled the appalled look on his best mate’s face and snickered. “Perhaps it was a little bit funny”.
Ginny gave him a peck on the mouth and grabbed his wrist. She almost dragged him through the train heading towards the bathrooms. Harry moved to stop when they reached them, but Ginny dragged him past them. When Harry looked at her quizzically, she said “There’s no way I’m going to have sex in a filthy bathroom on a train.”
“Okay, then where?” Harry asked, and she motioned her head toward the wagon attached at bottom of the train holding sanitary supplies, cleaning potions and the like.
They hurried in to the wagon, having quickly taken a look around to see if anyone was watching them enter.
When the door closed, they immediately met in a tight embrace kissing each other fiercely. Harry slammed Ginny up against the wall while kissing her, and he pinned her wrists above her head with one hand while reaching under her skirt with the other. She had taken to wearing loose skirts a lot, as they had discovered the joy of quickies, be it in her room (those were really quick) or against the wall in the tool shed. And so, Harry didn’t bother to remove her knickers but pulled them aside, slipped in two fingers and started finger-fucking her while sucking her collarbone. She was writhing and moaning, and he soon let her hands fall down from above her head, so he could undo his belt and trouser buttons and slide them down to his knees together with his boxers. He then lifted her up so she could lock her ankles behind his back, slid in his cock in one stroke and started fucking her against the wall. Ginny threw her arms tightly around Harry’s neck, tilting her head upwards, mouth open and eyes closed. Harry attacked her throat, licking and sucking. He lifted up her T-shirt with one hand while supporting her bum with the other and pulled down her bra cups exposing her breasts. He had one arm around her waist; a firm grab on her buttock for support and was leaning against her, pushing her up against the wall. His other hand was kneading her breast. They were panting and hissing, and Harry was slamming into Ginny. There were no windows in the compartment, it was getting extremely hot, and drops of sweat were dripping into Harry’s eyes, and tickling his thighs. He therefore welcomed the whiff of fresh air that suddenly brushed over him but didn’t think to stop and ask himself how a breeze had suddenly entered the wagon.
“Harder! Faster!” Ginny demanded with a breathy voice, and Harry obliged to the best of his ability. Almost immediately after, she started her whimpering chant of “Yes, yes, yes, yes” as the tell-tale sign of her orgasm approaching. Her gasps became quicker and shallower, until she took in a large breath of air, held her breath and arched into Harry with a loud moan. Harry felt her clench around his cock, and he came almost instantly, emptying himself inside her with a loud “ngh”.
Ginny was still lodged around Harry’s waist, her back leaning against the wall and Harry leaning in, also resting against the wall. Harry looked up at Ginny who slowly opened her eyes. They looked each other in the eyes, grinning at each other.
Harry suddenly heard a small noise from behind him, and the light was turned on. Ginny’s eyes darted up and towards the wagon door. It had been semi dark in the wagon, and Ginny’s eyes needed some time to adjust to the light. He saw her expression change from surprise to shock to anger. “Fuck…,” she said, still looking in the direction of the door.
Harry turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw someone leaning against the door, arms crossed. It took him only a moment to register the familiar pointy face surrounded by platinum blond hair, an amused smirk firmly in place and one eyebrow raised.
*
Draco’s trip so far had been uneventful. He had found an empty compartment and was soon joined by Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle. He told them about his summer, and they told him about theirs. To Draco’s relief the topic of his father and Draco’s dissociation with him only came up once, and his friends apparently held no grudges.
It was a warm day and after a few hours Draco needed to cool down, so he excused himself and made his way to the bathrooms to splash some water in his face.
His plans, however, were interrupted by some noise coming from the supply wagon. He moved closer and caught the unmistakable sounds of someone having sex. He carefully opened the door to the wagon, as to not disturb the couple going at it. When he saw the mane of long flowing red hair which could only belong to the Weasley girl and the tall, slim body and black unruly hair that no doubt belonged to Harry fucking Potter, he just couldn’t get himself to leave. He almost couldn’t believe his eyes. Or ears. The Weaselette was moaning and panting, wrapped around Potter’s waist, and Potter’s trousers were lodged around his knees. Draco could see the muscles in his buttocks and thighs as he thrust hard into the Weasley girl, who was asking to get it harder and faster. Draco couldn’t see how that would be possible, as Potter’s thighs and arse already looked like he was doing the best he could. He did seem to manage to oblige her anyway, though. Just then Draco realised, repulsed, that he was watching Potter’s arse and analysing his fucking skills, and he tore his eyes away, making a mental note to scourgify his eyes. He then focussed on the Weaselette’s face, as she started chanting ‘yes, yes, yes’. He knew the sound of those words and what it meant. Not from the Weasley girl, obviously, but he had been on the receiving end of them with Pansy a good few times, and there was that one Ravenclaw girl he couldn’t remember the name of. He watched the Weaselette’s face scrunch up and was almost impressed with her loud moan as she orgasmed. Shortly thereafter he heard Potter stifle a moan and watched him convulse violently.
Draco shuffled to lean on the doorframe, his arms crossed across his chest, making sure to make enough noise that he would be discovered. He made sure that his smirk was well in place and his eyebrow lifted as he waited for them to realize he was there. He then turned on the light.
The Weasley girl looked up. A variety of emotions showed on her face as she realized who he was: First there was confusion, then shock, definitely anger, but he also saw something else. Something similar to… Lust? Excitement? Well, well. Who knew the Weasley girl had a thing for exhibitionism.
Potter, realizing something was off, turned to look over his shoulder. Draco saw shock and a look of utter horror on Potter’s face. Startled, Potter turned around, apparently without thinking and still carrying the Weasley girl, who he then dropped on the floor with a loud thud. Her T-shirt was pulled up and her bra cups pulled down, her breasts fully exposed and in full view. They were a fine pair of breasts, Draco had to admit; a nice handful and firm and perky. He let his eyes linger there, still smirking, and she hurriedly moved to cover them up. He then looked at Potter who was standing frozen like a deer in the headlights. Without the she-Weasel wrapped around his body, Potter’s front was in full view. Draco’s eyes darted downwards per reflex, and Potter immediately moved his hands in front of his cock to cover up the view, the look of horror still planted on his face. “Ow, fuck, Harry, that hurt” the younger Weasley said, still sitting on the floor and looking annoyed. Potter bent down to help her up, his trousers still down around his knees.
Draco couldn’t help the gleeful smile widening on his face, and he moved his hand up to cover his mouth. This was just too hilarious. He couldn’t help snickering.
“For fuck’s sake, Harry, I can do it myself. Just pull your trousers up, would you,” she said, and Potter pulled them up, buttoned them and buckled his belt. Potter’s face was puce. The Weasley girl got up from the floor, straightened her shirt and brushed off her skirt. She hadn’t moved to look for or pull on knickers, so Draco assumed she must either not be wearing any, or they had just been pushed aside. After straightening her clothes, she lifted her chin and strutted out of the wagon.
“Come on, Harry”, she demanded.
Potter hurried past Draco, shooting him a murderous glare and hissing “fucking perve”.
Draco went along directly after them, still snickering. He could see the back of Potter’s neck. It was blushing scarlet.
When the Weaselette and Potter opened the door to their compartment and went in, Draco couldn’t help himself: He pushed the compartment door wide open, before Potter had the chance to shut it properly and leaned on the doorframe with his arms crossed. He sought out Weasley and looked him in the eyes. “Quite the kinky little sister you have there, Weasel,” he said, smirking. “Exhibitionism. Who would have thought?” He watched Weasley’s jaw drop, his face paling, then turned around and went towards his own compartment, smirk firmly planted on his lips.
*
Harry was mortified. He didn’t know where to look, so he just took the empty seat across from Ron, staring at his own hands which were in his lap and trying very hard not to look at Ron. His face was burning.
The compartment was dead silent for what seemed like a very long time. He then heard Ginny say: “Oh for fuck sake, Ron, close your mouth.” Ron did but kept on looking pale and horrified.
The silence continued. Harry heard Hermione cough and say, very loudly: “So, I wonder if Snape is still going to be Defence teacher.”
That broke the uncomfortable silence somewhat, and Harry could almost feel the tension in the air easing. He looked up and found Ron staring at him, looking slightly ill, a little accusing and very uncomfortable. Harry hoped that the embarrassment he felt was also showing on his face to a degree that would make Ron feel sorry for him and not angry with him.
He looked around in the compartment. Luna was talking enthusiastically about a rumour she heard that a vampire had been hired to teach defence, and Ginny was listening politely, no sign of embarrassment showing on her face. Neville was blushing and kept glancing at Harry as if not quite sure what to do with himself, and Hermione was looking at him with an amused smile on her lips.
Harry sat the rest of the trip in silence.
As the train pulled in to the station and the students gathered in the hall way, Ginny gave Harry a peck on the cheek and went with Luna to join some other 6th year students. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville went to find an empty carriage. Although Harry had seen the Thestrals several times and knew they were clever and gentle animals, he still found them creepy and avoided looking at them.
Harry was still embarrassed and quite uncomfortable. He heard someone snickering close by and looked up. His mortification grew as he spotted Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson and Zabini watching him, smirking and snickering. He felt himself blush furiously and didn’t know in which direction to move or look. Hermione who was walking next to Harry looked towards the group of Slytherins, rolled her eyes and proceeded to drag Harry in the opposite direction.
Ron, who had been walking next to Hermione, loudly exclaimed “Sod off, Ferret,” and went to flank Harry’s other side. Harry felt grateful of his friends, though it was also quite awkward being backed by the brother of the girl he had just nailed (quite publicly) on the train, when said activity was also the reason of the smirks directed at him.
Malfoy and his cronies started laughing openly. As Harry looked around on the station it became clear that the group of Slytherins were not the only ones aware of the ‘incident’. Several students were looking at him and smirking or giggling.
Harry on the top of his head could not remember a time in his life where he had been more self-conscious. He felt discomfited and embarrassed, and even Hermione and Ron appeared uncertain what to do.
He spotted Ginny looking at him in the crowd, and as he saw the small smile on her lips and the amused look in her eyes, he relaxed considerably. She rolled her eyes and winked at him, and he found himself smiling at her.
Ginny was standing with Luna next to an empty carriage. They gestured at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville to come join them and entered the cart. The four Gryffindors went to join them in the cart, and as Harry went in, he heard Malfoy shouting “Up for round two, Potter?” Roars of laughter erupted on the station, and Harry once again felt his face heating.
Ginny stuck her head out of the window at one side of the carriage and shouted back at Malfoy: “Yeah, you want to come watch again, Malfoy? You stood there peeping long enough last time.”
“I’ve seen enough of Potter’s hairy arse for a life time, thanks. Thanks for the offer though. Seems like you enjoy people watching, Weaselette,” Malfoy responded.
Ginny made a rude hand gesture that would have caused Mrs. Weasley to throw a fit had she been there, and Harry stuck his head out of the other window in the cart. “Watching my arse were you, Malfoy? Perve,” Harry said, and he heard Malfoy scoff loudly. Harry retreated to the carriage, before Malfoy could come up with a retort.
They sat in silence until the carriage started moving. “You okay, mate?” Ron asked.
“Yeah,” Harry said. Then after a moment added: “You?”
Ron looked uncomfortable: “Yeah. I guess. I mean, the whole school knows you just… you know… with my sister. On the train. It’s weird.”
“Crazy, noisy monkey-sex no less,” Luna added, and then said “I heard some other Ravenclaws discussing it in the hallway on the train. There was quite a lot of detail, too. Do you want to know what they said?”
“NO,” Harry, Ron and Neville shouted and all looked surprised when they heard Hermione’s “Yes”.
They stared at her. Ron looked positively ill mixed with disgust, Neville looked shocked, Ginny looked surprised and Harry was gaping and stared at Hermione, a mix of shock, revulsion and horror painted on his face.
Hermione looked at them. “What? I’m curious.”
“They said that Ginny asked for it fast and hard and that Harry was giving it to her thoroughly against the wall and that Ginny had enjoyed when she found out Malfoy was watching,” Luna said very quickly before any of the other’s had any sense to stop her.
They all looked at her. Harry and Neville were blushing, Ron was getting greener and Hermione looked surprised and at least had the decency to blush, if only a little. Harry was surprised to see that Ginny was only blushing slightly but otherwise seemed amused. He found it slightly disconcerting.
“What part of ‘NO’ do you not understand,” Ron shouted at her.
“Hermione said yes.” Luna looked surprised at Ron’s shouting.
“You could have told her later,” Harry yelled incredulously. “Or not at all!”
“Well, it’s too late now,” Hermione said, then looked at Ginny curiously: “So, is it true? Is that what happened?”
“That is none of your business, Hermione,” Harry said while Ron nodded in agreement. Harry looked towards Ginny for back-up but found her sending Hermione a crooked smile.
“I’ll tell you later, Hermione,” she promised with a mischievous smile, and Hermione looked satisfied.
“They also discussed the tattoo he has of a Hungarian Horntail,” Luna continued directed at Hermione. “Apparently its wings are stretched all the way across his shoulders, and the body and tail continue down his back and thigh.”
“How on earth did that rumour start? I didn’t even have my shirt off,” Harry said.
Ron spluttered.
“Enough already,” Neville bellowed much to everybody’s surprise. “Merlin, I should have sat with Seamus and Dean.”
*
Draco was in a relatively good mood after Potter’s public humiliation on the station. There was the small matter of Potter’s insinuation that Draco had been staring at his arse and retreating to his cart before Draco had the chance to fire back. Still, beginning the school year by humiliating Potter, before they had even arrived at the school, seemed promising.
Draco went in to the Great Hall flanked by Crabbe and Goyle and sat down at the Slytherin table between them, across from Pansy and Blaise.
He was looking forward to the Hogwarts food, as the cooking in the safe house had not been as skilled as that of the Hogwarts house elves’ and certainly not up to a standard befitting a Malfoy.
Obviously, Dumbledore wouldn’t be giving the Beginning of Year Speech, which Draco didn’t mind much. He had always thought the old man was a loon. On the positive side, they were short speeches, and he had a suspicion that McGonagall’s would not be as short.
McGonagall stood up and began her speech. He tuned out and only listened with half an ear. She bid the 1st years welcome and talked about Dumbledore, of course. He felt the other students looking at him and suddenly felt uncomfortable. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table, seeking out Potter. He was looking straight ahead with a vacant expression, and his eyes looked glassy. He was chewing his lip and blinking rapidly. Potter suddenly turned towards Draco looking him straight in the eyes. His face was expressionless but Draco noticed that his fists were clenched. Their eyes locked, and Potter didn’t blink at all. It was disconcerting and creepy. Draco swallowed involuntarily and eventually looked down. He had an unfamiliar feeling in his stomach, and he thought it might be guilt, which was weird because Malfoys don’t feel guilty. Plus, he had no reason to feel guilty. He wasn’t the one who killed Dumbledore.
As to not dwell on the unusual emotion he turned his attention to McGonagall. She was talking about ‘how in times like these we all must stand united’. She then proceeded to talk about inter-house unity. Draco’s attention was caught when McGonagall said that “to promote inter-house unity all the 7th year students will share a common room on the east wing of the 7th floor. The dormitories will be connected to a joint common room but will still be divided by house, unless you decide to do otherwise. You will lead by example,” She looked at them sternly, then proceeded: “These new accommodations are not negotiable. The 7th years will stay in the Great Hall after the feast for further instructions”.
Draco was appalled. As he scanned the Great Hall he could see that almost all of the 7th years looked as shocked and horror-struck as he felt. There were also quite a few of the 5th and 6th years’ students who looked displeased. He assumed those were the ones dating 7th year students. His look automatically turned to the Gryffindor table, where he could see Potter looking annoyed and the Weasley girl sitting across from him, clasping his hands. Potter met Draco’s eyes once more, and his expression turned from annoyance to disgust. Draco was certain his own facial expression was a match to Potter’s. Potter whispered something at the Weasel who also turned to look at Draco with disgust painted on his face. Draco’s attention turned to Granger, who was smiling and nodding enthusiastically while McGonagall talked. She would be excited about something like this. That girl was nuts. Clever, Draco begrudgingly could admit to himself, but crazy.
*
Harry was shocked after McGonagall made her announcement. He had been looking forward to evenings in the Gryffindor tower, sitting in front of the fire with Ginny, watching the flames reflected in her hair, making it shine like copper, and to making love to her in his dormitory.
Ginny was equally disturbed, no doubt for the same reasons, and she sat across from him, clasping his hands. Harry looked around at the fellow 7th years and was not surprised to see that far the majority of them were looking similarly disturbed. He looked toward the Slytherin table only to catch Malfoy already staring at him, looking as disgusted as Harry felt. The other 7th year Slytherins were talking animatedly to each other across the table.
“You realize this means we’re going to be sharing common room with Malfoy,” Harry murmured to Ron, still keeping eye contact with Malfoy.
Ron groaned and looked over at the Slytherin table.
Harry and Ron turned their attention to Hermione who was sitting on Harry’s other side. She was still listening to McGonagall, looking far too enthusiastic.
“She’s nuts that one,” Ron said, looking at her incredulously, and Harry nodded in response.
Hermione heard him and looked at him. “I happen to think it’s a brilliant idea,” she said to both of them. “This is a time of war, and we need to be able to stand together, like McGonagall said. Even with people we are not particularly fond of.”
Harry and Ron continued staring at her in disbelief. “’Not particularly fond of’,” Harry quoted. “How about ‘people we hate’.”
“Oh come on, Harry. Hate is a very strong word,” she answered.
“Yes,” he said. “And it’s the right word.”
“Oh really,” Hermione said. “And who do we hate?”
Harry and Ron stared at her. Harry could not believe she would even ask. “We hate Malfoy. And all the other Slytherin scum,” he said.
“I beg to differ,” Hermione persisted. “We feel a strong degree of dislike towards them, but ‘hate’ is just too strong a word,” she said. “I agree that there is a strong degree of… animosity between you two and Malfoy, particularly you, Harry, but you don’t really hate him.”
“I do really hate him,” Harry answered.
“Harry,” she continued; “I really don’t think that you are capable of true and sincere hatred.”
“I truly and sincerely hate Voldemort,” he retaliated.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes, but Voldemort killed your parents. Malfoy did no such thing.”
“No,” Harry retaliated. “He killed Dumbledore.”
“He did not kill Dumbledore!” she said. She sounded almost desperate.
“His father did, though,” Harry said.
“Yes,” Hermione snapped at him. “And you know very well that Malfoy had nothing to do with it.”
“He knew about it, though,” Harry said.
There was pity in her eyes. “Yes, Harry, but he was scared and feared for his and his mother’s life. What would you have done?”
“I would have told someone,” he said. “And how do we even know he really didn’t have anything to do with it? Maybe he did let his father in.”
“Because,” Hermione said, at if she was trying to explain something to a very dull-witted child, “he was questioned by the order and offered refuge.”
“And how can you be certain he didn’t lie?” Harry asked.
“Because,” Hermione continued to look at him with that almost annoyingly patient look on her face, “He was, as you well know, questioned while on Veritaserum.”
Harry just glared at her.
“If anything,” Hermione continued, “He is the one who would be well in his right to feel hatred towards you, Harry.”
“WHAT?” Harry and Ron both shouted, drawing some attention from the staff table and the class mates sitting closest to them.
“What?” Harry hissed, looking at her in disbelief.
“Well, you did slash him open,” Hermione said very calmly.
“That you did,” Ron added, nodding.
Harry snapped his head around to glare at Ron who shrugged and said again: “Well you did.”
“He tried to crucio me,” he said to Hermione.
“I am not having this conversation again, Harry,” she said sternly, reminding Harry of McGonagall. “You used an illegal, unknown spell that you had no idea of the consequences of. It was completely irresponsible and completely unacceptable!”
“Fine”, He hissed at her. “Because I’m not having this conversation again either.”
Harry and Hermione sat with their arms crossed, scowling and not looking at each other. Ron was fidgeting and looking uncomfortable.
“He called you a mudblood,” Harry said into the air but directed at Hermione. “How can you think that’s okay?”
“I don’t,” she said. “But I also don’t think that it is enough reason to hate someone.”
Ron looked at her. “He tried to get Hagrid in trouble in 1st year with Norbert. He also said in 2nd year that he hoped the monster in the Chamber of Secrets would kill you. And he tried to get Buck Beak killed in our 3rd year. And told all those lies to Skeeter in 4th year and made those Potter Stinks badges. And he destroyed the DA in 5th year,” he counted on his fingers.
“Exactly,” Harry continued.” And his father was in the ministry and so was his aunt. And she killed Sirius in case you forgot.”
Hermione looked hurt, and Harry felt a twinge of guilt at that last comment. “Of course I didn’t forget, Harry,” she said. “How can you say that?” Harry looked down, and she continued while looking at him imploringly. “I know he did all those things, though I will say that he did not ‘destroy’ the DA. Umbridge did. And I know he’s a very unpleasant person, but you have to realize that some of it also has to do with his upbringing, for which he is certainly not responsible. How do you think you would act or think if you had been indoctrinated like that for your entire life? If you had someone dictate your every move. He probably hasn’t been allowed to think an independent thought ever. Considering that, it is actually quite admirable that he was able to break free from his father’s influence in the end and join our side instead.”
Harry and Ron just stared at her.
“But Harry grew up with horrible people too, and he didn’t turn out nasty,” Ron said.
“Thank you, Ron,” Harry said, grateful for the backup.
“Of course he didn’t,” Hermione said. “Their behaviour was directed at Harry and thus taught him empathy and resilience.”
Harry looked over to the Slytherin table at Malfoy. At that precise moment Malfoy turned his head to look at Harry, and their eyes locked again. Malfoy was scowling at him.
“He’s up to something. I know it,” Harry said, still looking Malfoy in the eyes, and Ron’s, Hermione’s and Ginny’s heads snapped towards him. Harry was still staring directly at Malfoy, but he could sense the incredulity showing on his friends’ faces.
“Harry, no!” Ron said. “You are not going to do the creepy stalker thing again this year.”
“I was not doing a creepy stalker thing last year,” Harry answered.
“Oh come on,” Ginny said. “You were obsessed. You followed him everywhere. You were awake at night, looking at his dot on the Marauders’ map. Yeah, we know. Ron told us.” Harry glared at Ron who ignored it.
“And if that does not describe a creepy stalker, I don’t know what does,” Ron continued.
“I was not stalking him,” Harry hissed. I was investigating him and keeping him under surveillance.”
Malfoy had looked away again, and Harry turned to face his friends in turn. “And as you will recall, he was up to something.”
“He was not up to something.” Hermione looked furious now. “He was a scared, upset boy who didn’t know what to do.”
Harry looked at her with a determined look in his eyes. “His father was up to something. And he is up to something now - I know it.” When the others just kept looking at him, he elaborated: “He keeps looking over. He’s staring at me and he’s definitely keeping an eye on me. It’s unnerving and it means he’s up to something.”
“Harry,” Ginny said. “You are staring too. You two are always staring at each other. You’re being paranoid.”
“I still think…” Harry continued to say, but Hermione interrupted him.
“Harry, stop it,” she said, pointing her index finger at him, nearly poking at his face. “You will contain your obsession, you will not stalk Malfoy, you will not use any dangerous and unknown curses to attack him, and you will play nice!”
Harry glowered at her. He had several snide remarks he would like to make to the three of them, but he refrained from doing so. Instead he folded his arms and looked over at the Slytherin table again.
*
After the tables had cleared and the other students had been dismissed, the 7th years remained in the Great Hall.
McGonagall ushered them to join each other at the Hufflepuff table, and they all sat down.
Draco was sitting next to Pansy and the Ravenclaw girl he remembered having pounded all his frustrations into a couple of times last year; twice in an empty class room and once in the hall behind a statue. It had been nice until she became clingy. Then he had kindly told her to fuck off. He didn’t remember her name and frankly didn’t care.
He directed his attention to McGonagall who was waiting for them all to quiet down.
“You will find your new accommodations in the East wing of the 7th floor behind the portrait of Sir Siegfried the Self-righteous. As mentioned your sleeping arrangements will remain the same as usual, unless you choose otherwise. This does not extend to gender-mix sleeping arrangements.” She gave them a stern look. “Your trunks have been moved to your dormitories. As a trial the 7th year students’ curfew has been extended to eleven o’ clock Sunday through Thursday and midnight on Fridays and Saturdays. The curfew has been changed as a sign of trust that you are responsible young men and women who are now of age. The new curfew may be revoked, if you do not behave yourselves. You will be allowed visits from the 6th year students. Their curfew will remain at ten o’ clock Sunday through Thursday and eleven o’ clock on Friday and Saturday. Students who are not in you year will not be permitted to sleep over. Apart from the extended curfew all school rules and procedures remain the same. Sir Siegfried will choose a new password every two weeks. The first password is ‘My, my, you are a handsome fellow’. ”
Draco, among several other students, snorted when she announced the password, and he could have sworn he saw one side of McGonagall’s mouth turn slightly upwards.
“Now, I realise that this is not what many of you expected nor wanted. However, these new arrangements are not up for debate and will be evaluated at the end of the school year,” she continued and looked each of them in the eyes. “You are excused,” she said and stood waiting until the students cleared the hall.
Draco walked with his fellow Slytherins toward their new quarters.
Granger was, of course, the first to reach the portrait and Sir Siegfried, who was straddled on a hobby horse made of wood, turned around, dismounted his ‘horse’ and straightening his back as if to add height. He then bent his arms upwards and started flexing his muscles, while looking at each arm in turn. He picked up his sword and went to stand in some sort of fencing position. Granger looked at the portrait of Sir Siegfried, an amused expression on her face, and said the password. “My, my, you are a handsome fellow.”
Sir Siegfried looked at her and pretended to be surprised to see the group of students standing in front of him, waiting.
“Why thank you, fair maiden. You shall pass,” he said. He gave a deep bow, flailing one arm to the side, and the portrait opened, giving passage to their new rooms.
There was a small hallway leading from the portrait hole into the common room. The hallway was narrow, about 3 feet wide and 6 feet long, and the walls were strewn with portraits.
Most of the portraits pictured Sir Siegfried on quests to rescue what the knight would probably refer to as ‘a fair maiden’ from dragons, giants, trolls and the like.
The common room was strewn with armchairs and sofas, and there was a huge fireplace with two sofas and several armchairs facing it.
There was also a study area with desks and chairs.
The windows were large and with deep windowsills where one could easily sit comfortably and look out the windows. Draco liked that. Particularly when it rained.
The décor in the common room was horrid. It seemed as if the professors had done their best to make sure this was indeed a ‘mixed house’. The armchairs and sofas were Gryffindor red (typical), and the curtains were Ravenclaw blue. The carpet was a pale yellow (not quite the Hufflepuff screeching yellow, which even the professors, may have thought was too much for a carpet) and covering the sitting area, and the upholstery on the study area chairs was the Slytherin emerald green. Draco thought he might gag at the colour theme. He nearly would have preferred the Gryffindor red and gold just to get some consistency. Nearly.
The dormitories circled the common room. The four boys’ dormitories were placed next to each other on the left from the portrait hole, and the four girls’ dormitories were placed on the right. The doors were wooden and adorned with respectively a lion on the door closest the hallway leading to the portrait hole, then a raven, then a badger and finally a snake on the door at the farthest end of the common room.
Each dorm had private basic toilet accommodations and a door leading into the communal showers they shared with the other houses.
Well, at least he didn’t have to sleep in a room directly next to a bunch of sodding Gryffindors.
*
They all stood in the common room drinking in their surroundings. Harry thought it looked very cosy. He could see why some might say that the combination of colours was a bit off, but he thought it added to the cosiness.
Eventually the students began spilling in to their respective dormitories.
Their trunks were placed in the middle of the room. Apparently they were now old and responsible enough to pick their own beds, too. Harry snorted to himself.
There were three beds at the wall opposite the door and a bed on either side of the door. Harry was the last one in and grudgingly had to pick the bed next to the door, on the right, where everyone would pass when entering the dorm.
He decided that he would try to convince one of the others to swap at some point.
As they chose their beds, the trunks moved from the centre of the room to their respective beds.
Their class schedules were put out for them on their trunks. Harry sat himself on the bed, his back resting against the wall and began studying his schedule.
All the Gryffindors’ classes were with the Slytherins. That meant that should he be so unlucky as to have chosen the same subjects as him, he was going to have to spend every single class with Malfoy. And now he couldn’t even avoid him in the common room. He was going to spend all his waking hours in the near vicinity of Draco bloody Malfoy.
He groaned loudly and slumped forward resting his head in his hands.
“You all right, mate?” Ron asked and looked at him questioningly.
“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice muffled as he was still cradling his face with his hands. “I just realised I’m going to spend all my waking hours, all day every day alongside Draco Malfoy. I can’t even escape in our fucking common room.”
“Well, at least now you’ll know where he is all the time, so you don’t have to stalk him,” Seamus said, grinning.
Harry snapped up his head and glared at Seamus, narrowing his eyes.
His dorm mates laughed, and Harry threw himself on the bed lying flat on the back pressing a pillow over his head.
This had really been a shitty start of the school year.