Chapter Four

   Harry made his way down to the Slytherin common room, his breath escaping as smoke as the temperature dropped the further into the dungeons he went.  Why anyone in their right mind would actually decide to have a quarter of their students living in sub-zero temperatures (which, when you considered Hogwarts was by a great bloody lake in Scotland, was most of the time) was beyond Harry.  He summarised Salazar Slytherin was a sadistic bastard after all. 

   Harry came to a junction and stopped.  He had only been down here once or twice, and he had no idea which way to go.  “Shit,” he said with feeling. 

   “Well now, that doesn’t sound good,” came a familiar voice for the second time that day behind him. 

  Harry turned and let the breath he had been holding in go with relief.  “Blaise,” he said, “would you mind awfully taking me to your humble abode?” Blaise smirked and sidled up to the Gryffindor boy. 

   “Decided to take me up on that offer have we? I must admit, I’m a little surprised by your boldness, normally it’s a only a little rendezvous in the Tower for me, but, y’know, I’m not complaining.”  He grinned at Harry in what Harry assumed he thought was a seductive way.  Harry sighed. 

   “I’m really sorry Blaise, something’s come up - I’m actually here to see Malfoy.”

   “Draco?” said Blaise, pulling away with a pout, “what’s he got to do with anything?”

   “You wouldn’t want to know,” assured Harry, “and I swear I would much rather be spending the evening with you…in fact,” he added, “I’d much rather be spending the evening getting my toenails pulled out, whilst naked in front of the entire school…but beggars can’t be choosers.”

   A rare look of serious concern crossed Blaise’s face.  “Harry, is something going on?”  He gave Harry a searching look as they walked towards the entrance to the Slytherin common room. 

   Harry shook his head.  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

   “So that means yes,” replied Blaise, no longer looking at the Gryffindor boy.  He took his arm as they approached a stretch of wall between two torch brackets that looked oddly familiar to Harry.  Blaise opened his mouth to say the password, but changed his mind and turned into Harry, pressing him against the wall.  “I wasn’t lying, y’know - before.”  He let it hang for a bit, looking only at Harry’s lips, not his eyes.  “You really are my favourite,” he whispered.  Harry closed his eyes.  This was a little more complicated than he’d realised.  He ran his hand through Blaise’s soft hair and kissed him on the mouth. 

   “Don’t worry,” he whispered back after a moment, “I’m not going anywhere.”

   “You can’t promise that,” said Blaise, still not looking at Harry.  He could have been wrong, but he thought he saw tears shining on the Slytherin’s golden eyelashes.

   “I really have to see Malfoy now,” said Harry, breaking the moment.  If he was honest, he was just a little freaked out by what Blaise was saying.  I mean, he thought, a fling or two was fine, more than fine, it was damn good fun, but it sounded like Blaise was getting…attached?  Did he really like Harry more than the others? Harry rubbed the back of his neck as the other boy opened the secret door to his common room.  He wasn’t gay…sure he was curious, but something serious…with another boy? No that was, that was just…Harry stepped across the threshold into the dungeon-like room.  Forget it, he told himself, there are more pressing matters at hand, you can deal with this afterwards. 

   There were a number of people still in the common room (which was a lot smaller than Harry remembered it) and most of them looked up as Harry entered their midst.  “Evening Blaise,” said tall boy with dark red hair.  He didn’t say anything else, but looked Harry up and down with something of a sneer.  He wasn’t the only one to pay Harry particular attention, though the general reaction was mixed.  Some acted like the redhead; with distain, others were curious, some scared, and there were the odd ones who actually seemed pleased.  Sonita Bashier even went so far as to lift her head, smile wryly, and say hello.  Yep, thought Harry looking at the rather gorgeous Asian girl, there were definitely some perks to being rich and famous.  The moment, however, passed, and Harry left his former fling to her homework as he descended another flight of stone stairs with Blaise, presumably towards the boys dormitories. 

   The stairs led to a shadowy corridor, lit only by sparsely spaced torches; there were doors leading off both left and right.  At the third door on the right, Blaise stopped and said a further password (paranoid much thought Harry) before walking through into the room.  Harry followed. 

   There were four beds in the rectangular space, and three of them were empty.  Draco Malfoy was lying on the fourth, his arm over his face.  His bed and the surrounding area was immaculate, unlike the other three.  There were no clothes littered about the place, the bed, even though he was lying on it, was perfectly made, and the hangings on the posts were symmetrically arranged.  There was a single hanging above his pillows; it looked remarkably like the Malfoy family crest, though Harry couldn’t be absolutely sure. 

   “Close the door, you’re letting in a draft,” snapped Malfoy without even looking at who had just walked into his bedroom.  

   Harry looked at Blaise, who shrugged his shoulders.  Harry sighed and rolled his eyes; he didn’t have time for Malfoy’s usual amount of crap.  In fact, he didn’t have time for any Malfoy shaped crap.  He folded his arms.  “This how you greet all your guests, Malfoy?”

   The blond Slytherin jerked up, as if he had been hit with an electric cattle prod.  “What the Hell,” he cried, jumping off the bed and storming towards the other two boys, “do you think you are doing in here?”  He stopped in front of Harry, and then turned his attention to Blaise, without even giving Harry a chance to respond.  “And more to the point, how the Hell did he get in here?”  He looked pointedly at his fellow housemate, waiting this time for a response.  Blaise shifted uncomfortably, but Harry spoke before he could. 

   “I need to speak to you Malfoy, Blaise just opened the door - he is allowed to do that you know?”

   Malfoy sneered.  “Right, coz you two are so cosy and everything.”  The innuendo implied was clearly received and Blaise looked a little upset again.  Harry made the executive decision that he was emotional enough already that night, and did not need Malfoy’s personal issues on top of it. 

   “I’ll be fine now,” Harry told Blaise, “I’ll see you before I go.”  Blaise looked like he wanted to ask ‘go where’, but in front of Malfoy, he seemed to change his mind.  With a visible shake, he looked like his old self again.  He grinned, told Harry he’d see him then, then gave Malfoy one last look. 

   “See you,” he said saucily, then turned on his heals and strode out of the room.  Malfoy gritted his teeth. 

   “Well that was all kinds of fun,” he said as he went back to lie on his bed.  He flopped down on the duvet and covered his face again.  After a moment or two, he lifted his arm and looked incredulously at Harry.  “You’re still here?” he demanded.  Harry just raised an eyebrow. 

   “I told you I wanted to talk.”

   “And I told you I didn’t want to be anywhere near your insipid company, or don’t you remember?”  Harry glared, and Malfoy covered his face once more, muttering “in fact - I thought we were mutually agreed on the subject.”

   Harry walked carefully over to the blond boy’s bed.  “I’ve been thinking,” he said simply. 

   “Really,” goaded the other boy back, “well I’m pretty much guaranteeing that whatever the question is, the answer’s going to be ‘no’.”  Harry said nothing.  He just stood by the side of the bed staring, until Malfoy’s curiosity got the better of him.  He lifted his arm and looked at the Gryffindor.  “Didn’t you hear?” he said petulantly, “the answer’s-”

   “I heard,” interrupted Harry, “it’s just there’s not actually a question; so I suggest you pack your things and be ready at the front door by seven.”  Malfoy sat up, a dangerous look on his face.  “I’m not a very patient person, in case you haven’t already noticed,” continued Harry, “so it would be a good idea to be on time.”

   Malfoy’s lips formed a rather straight line.  “What happened to ‘this is my life and your not interfering’?”  Harry looked the boy up and down. 

   “It is my life, and if Dumbledore’s decided you can help, then that’s what you’re going to do - if you know what’s good for you,” he added threateningly.  At the mention of the headmaster’s name, Malfoy stiffened and opened his mouth to speak.  Harry, however, wasn’t that interested in what he had to say.  “Seven O’clock,” he repeated, “that mean’s you’ve got about half an hour, so I would get busy if that were you.”  And with that, he swept out of the door, and back to the din of the Slytherin common room, leaving the door to bang shut in his wake.