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Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Title: That Thing Called Denial
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17 (overall, this part, PG-13, I think)
Word Count: ~3000
Status: WIP
Summary: Draco had come up with a survival plan.
Note: I'm so sorry; I've planned to update sooner, I really did, but I just didn't make it. And, uh, there's one more part coming. *hands* I suck at this WIP business. I wish I have a sensible title, so I could label this part as Sensible Title (3/4). *sniff*
Part 1: Why Draco Malfoy Failed His Sixth Year
Part 2: Draco Malfoy and the Evil Number Seven
Part 3: That Thing Called Denial
Part 4: The Small Print
All things considered, Draco supposed that this whole business wasn't as dreadful as he had originally thought. In fact, he was quite content with how everything had turned out. While panicking and drowning in his embarrassment, he was struck with sudden inspiration and had remembered to hide in that convenient Room where Potter had never been able to find him before. That had been a sensible course of action because so far Draco was left alone.
The Room was very practical and obliging, and it provided Draco with everything he needed. It gave him food, a bed, and a bathroom, as well as a bunch of other things that Draco didn't really need, but he had fun thinking up different things to ask for to see whether the Room had limits or not. That was how Draco now came to posses a life-sized, Potter-shaped, inflatable doll. Draco had accidentally wished for Potter — so he could punch him, of course — but apparently, the Room could not create living things. Or pretty things, since the doll was frightfully ugly. The rendering was completely inaccurate; Potter was much more handsome.
Draco rubbed his temples, pretending that he didn’t just think that. At any rate, he could blame his wayward thoughts on his state of absolute madness, caused by the fact that he had spent far too much time alone in this Room. However, madness was something Draco knew he would have to get used to since he had planned to spend the rest of his life here. Or at least two more years until Potter finished his schooling.
This wasn't such a bad fate really, Draco thought bracingly. At least he wouldn't have to worry about the Dark Lord anymore. His only problem was boredom.
"I hate you," Draco informed the Potter-doll that was reclining on the sofa opposite to the one Draco was sitting on. The doll merely stared back at Draco blankly with its dull green eyes, smiling an infuriatingly happy smile that made it look a bit mental. "You're ugly. And your glasses are even uglier. And your hair is stupid." The doll just stared unresponsively, though Draco could have sworn that it was inwardly mocking him. "And you smell funny," Draco sniffed. "And —"
A sudden noise to his left made Draco leap from the sofa to stare in shock at the great wooden door. After all, that door hadn't existed until now. The door-handle rattled and Draco quickly took out his wand. Clearly, he wasn't as safe here as he had thought; someone had found him.
Draco wasn't sure how long he had been in here, but it seemed like weeks. He should have realized that eventually someone would figure out where he was and they would find a way to get inside the Room.
The door-handle shook again and Draco gulped, very worried. This could have been Potter. And quite possibly he was here to murder Draco. Or laugh at him. And Draco didn't know which one of these two possibilities was worse.
He gripped his wand tighter and stared at the door while frantically going through his options. There weren't many of them. In fact, there were only two — he could face Potter, or he could truly spend the rest of his days in this room. Both scenarios seemed very unappealing.
Of course, there was another possibility that Draco had entertain himself with while cut off from the rest of the world, and slowly approaching insanity. Maybe, just maybe, Potter would find this situation intriguing. Draco was an excellent kisser, and surely Potter had swooned at least a little when Draco had graced him with a kiss. Sure, Potter would be mad, since the kiss was forced upon him, and he might decide to punish Draco. Perhaps, Draco's breath hitched at the thought, Potter would tie him up and molest him. Which would be horrible, of course. Simply horrible. But not as horrible as dying.
Draco would simply have to suffer through that appalling ordeal. He would lie back and be very bored and unhappy while Potter used his body in any way he wished. Actually, now that he thought about it, Draco could offer such an arrangement. He could let Potter fuck him as a form of an apology. How could Potter possibly refuse that? Why, Draco was ready to suck Potter off right now, if that meant Potter wouldn't kill him. He was prepared for a long-standing commitment even. If Potter wanted to fuck Draco on a daily basis for a couple of months, or perhaps one-hundred times to make up for one-hundred fantasies, Draco thought he ought to allow that. He would simply do what he had to do to survive.
The more Draco thought about this, the more certain he was that this was the proper way of handling things. This was a prudent and cunning plan. He should have thought of it sooner.
Determined, Draco raised his wand and murmured a quiet unlocking charm. The door sprang open and a dark-haired person of the wrong gender burst inside. Disappointed, Draco sat back down on the sofa and sulked.
"I'm not speaking to you," he informed an exasperated looking Pansy.
Pansy sighed and sat next to Draco, wringing her hands together and fidgeting nervously. "Draco, I'm really sorry," she said earnestly, but Draco was much too annoyed to accept the apology. He crossed his arms on his chest and continued to sulk. "I didn't know this would happen," Pansy bemoaned. "I thought I was doing you a favour."
Draco shook his head incredulously; offended that Pansy treated this obvious act of betrayal as something he ought to appreciate. "What possessed you to touch my stuff? My personal belongings?" he asked and shuddered at the thought of anyone going through his trunk. There were things there that could be considered ... incriminating. Pansy opened her mouth and Draco quickly raised his hand to silence her. "No. Never mind. I don't want to hear how very worried you were about poor little me. If this is your way of helping people, I'd rather you try to hinder me in the future."
"But I really did want to help!" Pansy argued, sniffing and letting her bottom lip wobble. Her eyes, however, were completely dry, prompting Draco to roll his eyes at Pansy's poor acting skills. He believed her when she said she was sorry, but he knew she wasn't as sorry as to start crying over this. Pansy continued to explain, pausing to sniff occasionally. "All you'd been doing lately was fantasising about Potter. Even your grades had suffered, Draco. And more importantly, it was beginning to make me feel uncomfortable. I didn't even know that you were capable of generating that much drool —"
"All right, enough of that!" Draco hurried to interrupt. "That's not even my biggest problem with your behaviour. What I want to know is why haven't you stopped me when you saw what I was doing? I bet you just sat there and laughed with everyone else," Draco accused, honestly hurt.
Pansy shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't laugh. Much," she added quietly and then hurried on as Draco spluttered. "I just didn't realise you were so far gone that you couldn't distinguish between reality and fantasy. I thought, well ..." Pansy smiled suddenly, even though she sounded tentative when she declared, "I thought you've decided to forget about the stupid Charms and confess Potter your true feelings."
Draco gaped at his friend, completely horrified. "Confess? My what?"
"I thought you would tell him that you're in love with him, of course." Pansy cocked her head, the corner of her mouth twitching.
Draco stopped breathing, feeling as though Pansy had just punched him in the stomach. "Excuse me?" he gasped, his voice sounding much too high-pitched. "How could you even ...? When have I ever ...? In love?"
Pansy looked heavenward and then directed her gaze at the grinning Potter-doll that still lay on the nearby sofa.
"Oh dear, you're right. How could I even suggest such an atrocity? It seems as though I'm lacking evidence," Pansy deadpanned.
"No, no! Wait!" Draco panicked, wishing the doll to disappear, but the Room refused to listen as though it doubted his request. "That doll was an accident," Draco said firmly, nodding his head violently. "I was just upset and used it to vent and —"
Pansy covered her ears. "Oh Merlin! Please, don't tell me!" she cried.
"Pansy," Draco growled, "I was just bored and —" Pansy whimpered, and Draco fell silent, deciding he shouldn't say anything else on the matter since he seemed to be making things worse. "Would you stop that? I just needed to talk to someone. I've been here for weeks!" Draco whined, wanting sympathy not these ludicrous accusations thrown at him. "And I'm not in love with Potter," he remembered to add quickly.
Pansy lowered her hands and frowned. "Draco, you've barely been here a day. It's Saturday evening. You've missed Hogsmeade, you know."
"Well it seemed much longer," Draco argued. "And who cares about Hogsmeade? Oh I bet Potter does. I bet he went there with someone, a girlfriend, of course, and they spent their day talking about how evil and insane I am." Draco gave Pansy an inconspicuous sidelong glance. "Right?"
Pansy shrugged. "As far as I know, Potter doesn't have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend."
"What do I care about that?" Draco snapped, though he felt a bit better now.
Giving Draco an annoyed look, Pansy still managed to sound gentle when she said, "I think it's time you come out."
"Pansy, I told you, I'm not in love with Potter and I'm not gay —"
"Come out of the Room, Draco," Pansy sniggered.
"I'm fine here, thank you," Draco assured, sniffing a little. He wasn't really fine here. This place was incredibly boring, Potter-doll notwithstanding. But who knew what would happen when Draco showed his face to everyone. Would they laugh at him? Or would they do something even worse? Draco cleared his throat and dared to ask the question that troubled him. "What happened after I left?"
Pansy made a face and looked away. "Well, everyone attacked me, demanding to know what the hell happened. So I stuck to your — very lame — story. I told them you had lost a bet and you had to kiss Potter."
"Did anyone believe you?"
"I think a couple of people actually did; those that haven't seen what happened. But well, most of them ..." Pansy looked miserable. "They don't know about the Daydream Charms so they just drew conclusions from what they have seen. So they think you have a thing for Potter." Draco whimpered and hid his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, Draco. I really am." Pansy patted him on the back before adding, "Oh and McGonagall is looking for you. I think she wants to give you a detention. Or ask for a kiss."
As Pansy laughed at her own words, Draco turned his head to give her a glare, but he ignored Pansy's teasing in favour of asking what he wanted to know the most. "What about Potter? He didn't believe the bet story, did he?"
"Potter has yet to show signs of life. He still looks pretty much like this." Pansy indicated the doll. "Well, minus the creepy smile. But," Pansy hesitated for a moment. "I did find out something of interest. Potter, Granger and Weasley disappeared from Hogsmeade today. I know because I've looked for them. When I finally found them, I've eavesdropped, naturally, and I heard them talking about Weasley's brothers and Wizard Whizzy Weasels or something. Isn't that where you bought the Charms?" Draco nodded, mortified. "Well, Weasley went on and on about how his brothers were surely lying and they shouldn't listen to them, so I think this means they've probably went to Diagon Alley. Which isn't allowed so I've reported my suspicions to Professor Snape, of course. I'm sure he'll punish them." Pansy paused to grin evilly. "Anyway, Weasley and Granger looked very upset. I think they've realised — well, I suppose Granger did — that you bought those Daydream Charms."
"And Potter?" Draco asked quickly. He dreaded to think what Potter must have felt like when he found out about this product and that Draco had willingly and happily bought it.
"I've told you." Pansy pointed at the doll again. "He's no longer in the world of the living." Pansy smiled brightly. "You know, there's a positive side to this. Apparently, you've single-handedly disabled Potter. With a kiss and a grope. Considering your family is not exactly in the Dark Lord's favour, this might rectify that." Pansy frowned, deflating. "Or it might make him really mad. What with you being in love with —"
Draco narrowed his eyes and mercifully, Pansy pressed her lips together and did not finish the thought.
"Come on," she sighed, but looked determined. "It's past curfew. There's no one around to mock you. You can't stay here. You'll have to face everyone eventually and suffer through their teasing. I'm sure people will forget about this soon." Pansy bit her lip. "Probably not very soon, though. Personally, I'll never forget it. Potter's expression; Weasley's expression when you grabbed Potter's arse. Oh you should have seen it, Draco, I thought he would faint. And that strange little person with a camera took so many photos. I thought he'd cream his pants, he looked so ecstatic. And I've heard that Professor Snape actually vomited into Professor Sprout's hat —"
"You're not helping, Pansy," Draco growled and then paled. "Wait. Photos?"
"Oh yes. The kid was selling them. A Galleon per photo. Two Galleons for the one where you tried to unzip Potter's trousers." She smiled, looking wistful. "The kid made a fortune before McGonagall confiscated them all. Don't know what she's done with them." Pansy waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"Urgh," Draco groaned, seriously contemplation hitting himself with a Memory Charm. Or just with a random vase. The minute he thought that, a random vase helpfully appeared beside him. "I'm staying here," he decided, pouting. "Forever."
"No, you're not." Pansy grabbed Draco's hand and yanked him up. "You're being ridiculous and childish. Now, if you'll be a good boy and come back with me to the Common Room, I'll let you keep your doll."
Draco freed his hand forcefully and scowled. "Stop that."
Pansy smirked. "You know, Draco, that doll looks much too happy. What on earth have you done to it? Or with it?"
"Pansy ..."
"It's also quite surprisingly naked ..."
"Fine!" Draco snapped. "I'll go with you, just shut up about the bloody doll!"
Pansy grinned, walking towards the door, and then waiting for Draco to exit first as though she was worried Draco would trick her somehow. However, Draco was much too tired and miserable to fight Pansy further, so he just grumbled at her.
"Don't look so sour," Pansy instructed. "You can play the I'm-not-in-love-with-Potter-but-I-want-to-stare-at-his-naked-body-for-hours game in your own room."
Draco stormed past Pansy, stomping his feet excessively until he remembered that they should keep quiet lest Filch catches them. Apparently, Draco had earned himself one detention already; he did not need another one.
Thankfully, Pansy followed Draco in silence, and they quickly but carefully made their way towards the Slytherin Common Room. They peeked behind every corner and paused at every suspicious sound in fear of Mrs Norris. But luck seemed to be on their side tonight, and Draco supposed that that was only fair; he had been through enough trouble these last two days.
They were nearing Potions Classroom when Pansy let out a sigh of relief.
"Oh you're lucky no one has caught us. I've risked myself looking for you, you know."
"This was all your fault in the first place!" Draco whispered back, annoyed that Pansy had apparently forgotten that small fact.
"It's hardly my fault that you're crushing on Potter."
Draco paused in front of the Potions Classroom and faced Pansy, levelling a glare at her. "For the last time, Pansy, I am not crushing on — Potter?"
Draco gasped, horrified as the door beside him swung open and a dark figure grabbed Draco's arm, pulling him inside the shadowy classroom. It all happened much too fast and by the time Draco's mind caught up with the events, the classroom door were closed shut, and Draco was trapped between the cold wall and a warm body.
It was dark inside, but not so dark Draco couldn't recognize the person who held him captive. It was definitely Potter.
Draco quickly reached for his wand only to realize that it was missing. Potter grinned, for a moment looking creepily similar to Draco's recently acquired Potter-doll, and then he raised his hand, waving Draco's wand around. He pointed it at the door, and the loud banging sounds, which Draco hadn't really registered until now, stopped abruptly. Draco hoped that Pansy would do the smart thing and would go and get help.
Though it was likely that help would arrive too late. Potter's expression suggested he meant business. And that business was probably murder. Or disfiguration of Draco's fair features. That was worrying indeed, but when Potter discarded Draco's wand and reached into his own pocket, taking out a familiar colourful package, all Draco wished for was that Potter would just hurry up and kill him already to spare him further embarrassment. Draco did not want to discuss his fantasies with Potter under any circumstances. Death would be preferable.
However, instead of cursing Draco into next week, Potter grinned and his eyes twinkled in obvious amusement. If Draco didn't know better, he would think that Potter wasn't even upset. Which could mean that Potter had decided to strike Draco where it hurt the most — he would ridicule him instead of curse him.
Just as Draco mentally prepared himself for more humiliation, Potter said the most unexpected thing Draco could imagine.
His breath was hot against Draco's lips when he whispered, "Tell me something, Malfoy." Potter grinned even wider. "You didn't read the small print on this thing, did you?"
Continued in The Small Print