Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Title: Backfired
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: Um. 2000
Status: Halloween Quickie Series, part 4 of 5.
Summary: Three people, three plans, ONLY ONE SURVIVOR! :D :D :D Sorry. Winner. I meant winner.
Note: Written for awdt's Halloween Quickies, prompt #4 was: this thankfully appropriate photo.
Freaking out: *takes deep breaths* I think I can, I think I can, I think I can ...


#1: Ghostly Fun
#2: Filch's Fun
#3: Caught
#4:

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Backfired

Merry sounds of music and laughter echoed through the Hogwarts Castle as the Halloween Feast began and students and professors alike gathered in the Great Hall. The lights flickered through the tall windows, giving the impression of all-around cheer, but there was one student at least that had nothing to celebrate. Yet.

She moved silently towards the door in the end of the third floor corridor. The door opened to let her through after she had flicked her wrist and murmured an incantation. Slightly worried, she peered inside and stepped into the dark room. However, the moment she did so, air was knocked out of her lungs as she was pressed firmly to the cold wall, her wand ruthlessly yanked out of her hand.

She gasped, staring at Draco Malfoy's angry grey eyes. He held her pinned to the wall, his clothes dishevelled and hair rumpled, which made him look wild and wrathful. Harry Potter glared at her from Malfoy's side, fiddling with her wand and looking as haphazardly dressed as Malfoy himself.

They were clearly having sex again. Horny gits.

"I told you I heard something!" Malfoy exclaimed, releasing her and stepping away so he was standing beside Harry, both of them staring at her with equal looks of dismay. "What do you want? You came to watch the show?" Malfoy smirked.

"And who the hell are you anyway?" Harry asked, waving her own wand at her, causing her hood to fall down and reveal her face and dirty-blond locks.

"I'm Vicky Frobisher," Vicky said breathlessly, nervous despite trying not to be. This wasn't exactly going as planned. "I'm in your House," she told Harry grimly. He should have known that, damn it!

"Oh. I knew that," Harry said quickly. "How're you doing, Vicky?" He smiled at her with what she presumed should have been a charming smile. Well it was a charming smile, but Vicky was on a mission and she wasn't about to be swayed.

"I'll be doing fine in a minute." She grinned, reaching into the pocket of her robes. "I was looking for you," she confessed.

Draco Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her. "Potter, is she one of your ... you know, admirers?" he asked, glaring at her and Harry alternatively.

Before Harry could say a word, she spoke quickly. "As if!" she denied, and took out a photograph. "I'm one of his future blackmailers," she declared proudly much to Malfoy and Harry's obvious shock. She handed them the picture and Malfoy snatched it quickly out of her hands. "Don't bother destroying it. I have plenty of copies." She grinned again, rather pleased with their expressions. They leaned closer to each other, staring wide-eyed at the photo. They had every reason to look shocked. Vicky was very aware that the photo was painfully incriminating. She had taken it a week ago, accidentally stumbling on the pair of them in a small classroom on the seventh floor. The photograph captured an interesting image of Harry Potter on his knees, wearing nothing but a Slytherin tie; two fingers of his right hand stuck in Draco Malfoy's arse, moving steadily in and out, as he eagerly sucked Malfoy's cock, much to Malfoy's obvious delight. To make things more perfect and incriminating, Malfoy then lay down on a table, pulling Harry on top of him by his tie and spreading his legs wantonly in clear offering. After that, the picture turned very repetitive. Especially after one had seen it more than a hundred times.

"Sweet Merlin!" Malfoy gasped, staring at the picture. "I'm so photogenic!"

As Vicky shook her head in disbelief, Harry turned to glare at her. "What do you want?"

"If she says threesome, can I hex her?" Malfoy whispered into Harry's ear, loud enough for Vicky to overhear.

Nodding, Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

"Ew!" she said a little too vehemently, fighting various images that invaded her mind. "I don't want a threesome! I want gold!"

Malfoy gave her an appalled look, but Harry just frowned. "Why would we give you gold?"

Vicky spluttered. Was Harry Potter really that dim? "Because otherwise I'll show these to everyone! Harry Potter shagging an ex-Death Eater? I'm sure it will make it into the Prophet."

Potter shrugged. "Go ahead then."

This time both Vicky and Malfoy spluttered in indignation.

"Are we bluffing?" Malfoy asked incredulously.

"Well, apparently not anymore." Harry sighed and glared at Malfoy. "But ... would it be so bad? To let everyone know?" he added tentatively.

"Yes! Yes, it would be!" Vicky said quickly. "Think of your reputation! Think of the person that's been threatening your life this past few weeks with those nasty messages!"

Malfoy turned his head quickly, rising his wand at her and accusing her vehemently, "That was obviously you then! You evil little thing!"

Vicky's eyes widened in alarm and she pressed her body closer to the wall. "No! It wasn't me!"

"So you want to kill Potter, do you?" Malfoy fumed, not listening. "Well let's see how you'll manage to do that as a slug!"

He flicked his wand, but Potter moved instantly, grabbing Malfoy's arm and forcing him to lower his hand.

"She wants to kill you!" Malfoy argued, trying to free himself out of Potter's grasp.

"No, she doesn't!"

"No, I don't," Vicky confirmed, terrified. "How would he give me money if he was dead?" she reasoned.

"Oh you are a clever one, aren't you?" Malfoy raged, looking so dangerous, Vicky shivered, remembering that Malfoy had always been a depraved person, as all Slytherins were, naturally. "You wrote the messages so Potter would be afraid to come out!"

"No, Malfoy, she didn't write the messages," Harry said quietly, but so surely, both Malfoy and Vicky looked at him suspiciously.

"How do you know?" Malfoy stopped struggling. "Do you know who was writing those?"

Looking sheepish and somewhat embarrassed, Potter cleared his throat. "Well ... yeah. It was ... me."

"You've been threatening to yourself?" Vicky asked fearfully, suddenly reconsidering this idea of hers. Harry was more unbalanced than his adversaries claimed. And Malfoy was clearly homicidal.

But at this moment, Malfoy was giving Harry the same fearful look. "Um," he managed.

"I just," Potter blushed. "I had this plan. I thought when we come out, it will be a huge shock to everyone because it would seem so out of the blue. And I thought I should at least give people a hint, to make them suspicious in advance. And well, see, now when the students find out about us, they can't say anything nasty or hateful to us because the moment they do, they'll be accused they were behind the threats, and therefore aim to end my life instead of just insult me. So at least we'd be left alone while at Hogwarts." Harry looked at his feet. "It sounded like a better idea when I was thinking about it."

Vicky shook her head, trying to make some sense of this. "I can't decide whether you're really clever or completely crazy. Why did you write them in pink? That wasn't very threatening."

Harry shuffled his feet. "The ink looked blood red when I bought it. It turned pink when it had dried," he said sadly.

"I think I'll go with crazy," Vicky decided. "And it would never work!" she added quickly. "Everyone will hate you when they find out about this. Especially Ron and Hermione!" she lied. "They'll be horrified! I'd be very surprised if they continue to speak to you."

Harry frowned, and then said in a small voice. "They'll speak to me," he said loyally, sounding petulant.

"When we come out?" Malfoy breathed suddenly, looking as stiff as a statue and staring at Potter as though the latter was insane.

"Well, I thought," Potter looked up hesitantly at Malfoy. "I thought we have something here. You and I. Something more. And I don’t want to hide it. I want to tell the world," he said fervently.

"Are you insane?" Vicky and Malfoy exclaimed together and then glared at each other.

"Potter," Malfoy said, clearly trying to sound patient and reasonable. "I had a plan too. I planned not to be disowned by my mother and murdered by my father. And slighted by my friends. That is people who still want to talk to me. Both of them."

"Sound reasons," Vicky praised, but Harry was undeterred.

"You didn't deny that there's something between us," he said cheekily, sounding hopeful.

Two patches of pink appeared on Malfoy's cheeks. "You're such a twit," he grumbled, still not denying anything. "But that's not the point," he argued quietly.

"Fine," Potter accepted, though he looked pleased. "Then the point is you're gay. And you'll have to tell people eventually. You can't live a lie."

"No! Hold on a minute," Vicky interfered. "Maybe he's not gay but bisexual. Maybe he could marry a girl and have children. Think of the Malfoy line!" she cried dramatically.

"Oh no. I'm quite gay," Malfoy said quickly.

"He is," Harry confirmed.

"But still!" Vicky yelled desperately. "What about his father? He's evil! He'll kill you!" she warned Harry.

"Yes!" Malfoy agreed, but then changed his mind. "No! We're reformed." He smiled sweetly, though somewhat nervously at Potter.

Harry looked at Malfoy pleadingly. "I'm so tired of hiding things, of sneaking around. Don't you want us to be able to sit together at breakfast, to talk to each other, to spend time together? Aren't you sick of this? Hiding like we've done something wrong? And this feels so right. It's not fair. Why should we hide?"

Vicky whimpered, recognising a perfect emotional blackmail when she heard one. Malfoy would cave. She just knew it. Potter looked much too pathetic in that moment for anyone to resist.

Sure enough, Malfoy's gaze softened. "It would be nice," he admitted softly, almost wistfully.

"Then let's do it!" Harry grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him closer. "Let's do it now. We could go together at the feast and let everyone know we’re an item."

"You're so daft," Malfoy accused, incredulous, but grinning as crazily as Harry. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Exactly!" Vicky agreed. "Everyone we'll be so shocked. They'll faint! It'll be horr —"

"It'll be funny," Malfoy chuckled evilly. "Can you imagine their faces?"

"We don't have to imagine," Potter said urgently, breathlessly, his green eyes shining with emotion and excitement. "Let's just do it. Let's just ... not care."

"Stupid Gryffindor," Malfoy whispered, inexplicably breathless as well. "You're mad. Insane. Mental. I just ...." Malfoy swallowed hard and pressed his lips to Potter's. "I hate you."

Harry smiled, tugging on Malfoy's bottom lip with his teeth before he murmured, "I hate you too." The words made Malfoy shudder as he pulled Harry into a heated kiss.

"Well I hate you both!" Vicky screamed, completely infuriated. "You can't do this!"

Ending the too long kiss, Malfoy looked at her, his lips stretching into a rather vicious smile. "Here. Have fun." He handed the photo back to her. "But don’t stare at it too long. Your eyes might burn out."

Vicky gaped and stomped her feet, enraged and perplexed.

"You can't!" she wailed. "I want gold!"

Harry grabbed Malfoy's hand, pulling him out of the room with a boyish, excited smile on his face. He took something from his pocket, returned Vicky her wand, and then handed her a single Galleon. She took both items, too confused to do anything else, but then Harry plucked the photo out of her hands and grinned. "Draco was just joking. I'll take that." He pocketed the photo and dragged a snickering Malfoy away.

Vicky sniffed, desolated, watching the two boys run away, laughing and bouncing down the staircase, looking like a pair of lunatics.

She wished, at least, that she hadn't been bluffing because the truth was, that had been her only photo.

Annoyed, she made her way towards the Great Hall, taking comfort in the fact that Malfoy and Harry wouldn't be laughing for long. Not when the realism of people's scorn hits them like a bludger. When Malfoy, the evil ex-Death Eater would be forcefully dragged away from the Wizarding World's clearly Confunded Saviour — she would be the one laughing.

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In case you are wondering: Though random and ultimately irrelevant, Vicky Frobisher, technically, isn't an OC.

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#5: Coming Out