Jealousy - Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter - PART X, PART XI, PART XII
Title: Jealousy: PART X, XI, XII
Author: laughs_muses (fic journal)
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13, NC-17, R
Disclaimer: No, none of these characters are mine. If they were mine I wouldn’t be working absurd hours in a coffee shop, now would I? Nup, I’d be cruising around in my Merc with little HP flags on the bonnet and…*dreams*
Summary: Draco gets jealous…Ginny reminds Harry of blondes…And Harry Potter’s debut professional Quidditch game…
Set: Seventh Year, Potions class
Beta: None, aggggaaaiiinnn.
Authors Notes: Sorry it’s taken a while. You’ll be please to know that I’ve nearly actually finished this story…nearly…and I think I’m at something like thirty-five chapters. Woah. In these sections we get to see Draco getting Jealous…
Jealousy: PART I
Jealousy: PART II
Jealousy: PART III
Jealousy: PART IV
Jealousy: PART V, PART VI
Jealousy: PART VII, PART VIII, PART IX
PART X
“Do you add the powdered root of asphodel after the Tebo tusks?”
There was a pause.
“Draco? Draco?”
Draco looked up startled.
“What?” he snapped and glared at Blaise who was looking at him strangely. The boy’s dark skin was dripping with perspiration and Draco could feel sweat dotting the back of his neck too, even though the weather outside was freezing.
“I was asking if you add the powdered root of asphodel after the Tebo tusks? Merlin, what’s up with you today?”
Draco looked down at his steaming Potion that was giving off a faint aroma of new Muggle magazines and smoking gently. He hadn’t been listening to anything at all during the entire lesson. His hands had done all the work by themselves and now he was looking at his own methodically concocted potion.
“Before, and nothing is up with me. I’m just tired.”
Blaise unceremoniously thunked his roughly grounded Tebo tusk into his cauldron that held a liquid akin to dirty dishwashing water. Draco smirked as it gave a hiss and then promptly caught alight. Blaise gave a yelp and then starting laughing as Potter’s at the front of the room did the same thing.
“Christ!” They Gryffindor shouted and a stream of water arched over the class and precisely into Potter’s cauldron. Granger gave him an exasperated look and put her wand back on the table. The Weasel was putting out the flames on Potter’s shirt with his hands.
Draco’s eyes narrowed as he watched the larger hands move unrestricted over the slim hips and the shoulder blades. Jealousy flared up as Potter lifted his arms to accommodate the Weasel and turned so the red-head beat out the flames on his back. Potter’s eyes registered Blaise’s cauldron which was still crackling merrily and gave him the thumbs up.
Blaise returned them with a smirk, which Draco noticed was mirrored pathetically on his own.
“Here’s to failing Potions,” Blaise said appraisingly and Potter grinned. Draco just slammed his knife onto the table and went to look for Pansy.
PART XI
“Professor McGonagall wishes to see Harry Potter, Sir.”
Harry looked up from his Charms notes and saw Ginny standing resolutely beside Professor Flitwick, her face grave and still. Harry felt his stomach plummet. What the fuck had happened? Professor Flitwick seemed to be thinking along those same lines, as he quickly nodded and gave Harry a sympathetic look as he haphazardly pushed his books into his bag. His green quill fluttered to the floor, but Harry simply ignored it as he swung his back over his shoulder. Somebody would give it to him later.
He threaded his way to Ginny, giving her questioning looks. She simply shook her head and left out the classroom door. Harry took one last look at the class and saw Malfoy looking at him sharply. The boy’s eyes were grey and his lips were tight. He didn’t look happy about something.
Harry followed Ginny up the corridor and onto a landing.
“What’s happening, Ginny?” he asked catching up with her. Her red hair, which was tied loosely at the base of her neck, swung as she shook her head.
“Not here,”
Harry frowned and the feeling in his stomach intensified. Ginny was walking quickly now, and for the first time Harry noticed she didn’t have her bag. He followed her up some more stairs and towards the West Wing.
“Hang on,” he said, stopping dead. “This isn’t the way to McGonagall’s office.” Ginny just gave a ‘god-you’re-thick’ look and practically ran up the next flight of stairs. When Harry had caught up with her, she was standing in the middle of the staircase tapping on the sandstone wall with her wand.
“What the-
“Shhh.”
The wall suddenly caved in and the world went white. Light streamed out of the hidden doorway and Harry cried out and put his hands over his eyes. He dimly saw Ginny’s silhouette move into the light and followed her blindly.
As his eyes began to adjust to the brilliant sunlight, he realised he was outside. Actually on a balcony that was running around the outside of the castle. The light was being reflected directly off the newly fallen snow.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” came Ginny’s voice, from around a corner and in the shadows of a massive turret. “I wanted to show you.”
“What about McGonag-
All he got was another ‘god-you’re-thick’ looks as Ginny simply leant against the wall, sunlight beating down on her face.
“I thought we could…” she grinned and beckoned. Harry’s stomach clenched. What the fuck? Ginny’s come and taken me out of class, got me all worried, to fool around up here? He gave a small smile and put down his bag. Why am I not loving this? This is what I love… loved… about Ginny.
He moved closer and encircled her waist with his arms. She slipped hers around his neck and sighed. And then Harry noticed something. Her hair looked white. The unrelenting sunlight that was shooting straight off the snow was making her hair look so white, it almost looked blonde. He reached up and stroked it, it felt like straw. He didn’t imagine that’s what his would feel like.
He gently lifted Ginny up, so that she was his height and resting against the wall. That’s better, a small voice inside his head said. Taller and blond. Perfect. Suddenly Harry’s lips collided with Ginny’s and his tongue was invading her mouth. He wanted it hard and fast and now.
Within minutes, Harry had her bra under her shirt, hanging loosely from her shoulders and her skirt bunched up round her waist. The thin pink knickers were twisted around an ankle. Harry’s trousers were pooling around his feet, and if it hadn’t been for his robes, his bare backside would have been on display for anyone on the grounds.
“Gods, yes,” he hissed, as he moved faster and faster inside her. The friction against his length was delicious but it wasn’t…enough. He wanted to feel hurt. He wanted someone crashing into him. It was all fine doing the actual thrusting, but he really wanted to be taken. He wanted to feel someone tearing through him, invading him.
Ginny’s head was lolling around on the sandstone behind her, eyes shut and mouth slightly open. Harry’s hands were still supporting underneath her and he dug his fingers in as he felt a pooling in his lower abdomen.
He thought of long slim fingers gripping into his own hips, of a flat chest against his back. Of muttered curses in a deep voice. He wanted to feel full and assaulted. He saw sweat dripping off flawless skin, of hair clinging to furrowed forehead, of Malfoy’s face moaning in front of him. Of those thin lips bruised and hurt. Of those grey eyes wanting him, needing him. Of-
“Jesus Christ!”
Harry came. His orgasm tearing through him as he emptied himself. Ginny was shuddering beneath him, her small hands grabbing hard at his shoulders. After a moment he felt the post coital calm settling over him, and Ginny gave a huffed mewling sound as he gently withdrew.
“I really, really like this place now,” said Ginny, with a grin. Harry smiled weakly back, his eyes fixated on the white strands of her hair. He ran his hands through it and then lowered his face into it…guiltily wondering what conditioner Malfoy used.
PART XII
Draco was among the thousands of wizards and witches who were flocking into the Lawrence Frost Quidditch Stadium. He had managed to shake Pansy off easily, suggesting that she might like something new to wear to Lady Fitzpatrick’s Dinner. Crabbe and Goyle were probably around the stadium somewhere, but Draco hadn’t seen them yet.
He had seen about the entirety of Hogwarts already though. Almost every student from third year up was attending Harry Potter’s debut game. Students flocked everywhere.
Draco’s hair had always been conspicuous. But even when he had been small, he had always liked it. He liked how it was so blonde that it looked white, and how it was always perfectly straight and swept around his head, rather than sat on it. And, as his mother said, he could never be lost in a crowd.
At this point in time though, he decided it would be…unfeasible… to be recognised. After all, he and Potter weren’t exactly known for being civil towards each other. Let alone cheerleaders at their respective Quidditch games. So he had put on a hat and crushed the blond strands under it. And so far he’d done well. He’d acquired his father’s seat in the Malfoy box with no trouble and had had no one apart from the ticket master recognise him.
As the teams strode out onto the pitch, it was easy to tell which player was Potter. Apart from the irritating announcer’s commentary. He was the slimmest on the team, and was at the back. Besides, though Draco would never admit it, he could pick Potter out of anywhere.
As the game began Draco kept his eyes fixed on Potter as he tore around the stadium. The announcer was about to wet himself he was so praiseworthy on Potter’s behalf. The Gryffindor was arching and twisting through the air, lazily dodging the expertly placed Bludgers that zoomed in his path.
It was clear the entire stadium was only watching Harry, as gasps and thundering applause were a result for even the most laymen of moves. Draco was beginning to get a strange feeling as he watched Harry Potter streak around the pitch, black and white robes streaming behind him, his body flat and taught against the handle. He didn’t know what it was.
He wanted Potter here. He didn’t want him to be an exhibit for thousands of people. He wanted Potter here with him and not out there with them. Draco buried his face in his hands as a picture of Pansy flashed into his mind. What was he doing? Who was he kidding? He loved Pansy. Right? He wanted to be with her. Right? And he didn’t want to be around Potter, at all. Right? No! It was wrong! It felt wrong. It was wrong. His own brain was against him. He did want to be around Potter. All the fucking time.
“Goddamit,” he muttered. Just as he heard the crowd erupt. Snapping his eyes back to the game, he saw that the entire stadium was on its feet. And in the middle, Harry Potter was soaring through the air, his left arm raised in triumph, his face alive and blazing.
“Fuck!” shouted Draco, only vaguely thankful for his private quarters. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He swung his bag onto his shoulder and searched through it for his wand. Rummaging around angrily his fingers nearly snapped in half an emerald green quill. He stared at it, his anger dissolving as he took in the green feather. He had taken it. From Charms. That day that the female Weasel had taken Potter out of class. Why had he taken it?
Anger surged back through him, and he grabbed his wand. He had missed Potter’s first fucking catch. He had missed it. Draco wanted to kill something.
And Malfoy Manor was billed for an unexplained exploding door at their private box at the Lawrence Frost Quidditch Stadium.
~~~
Author’s Notes: So, uh? You want to, I dunno…comment or something? LOL, so yeah, that’s the next three parts. I start school again tomorrow so I won’t have as much time to post, but since I’ve already written the next million chapters the posting times won’t be all that different. Just thought I would mention my school starting so you can all smother me in sympathy…*waits*
OH GOD, IN THE NAME OF H/D LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.
Patriotic Jess.
Loook...so shiny!...Jealousy: PART XIII, PART XIV, PART XV
Author: laughs_muses (fic journal)
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13, NC-17, R
Disclaimer: No, none of these characters are mine. If they were mine I wouldn’t be working absurd hours in a coffee shop, now would I? Nup, I’d be cruising around in my Merc with little HP flags on the bonnet and…*dreams*
Summary: Draco gets jealous…Ginny reminds Harry of blondes…And Harry Potter’s debut professional Quidditch game…
Set: Seventh Year, Potions class
Beta: None, aggggaaaiiinnn.
Authors Notes: Sorry it’s taken a while. You’ll be please to know that I’ve nearly actually finished this story…nearly…and I think I’m at something like thirty-five chapters. Woah. In these sections we get to see Draco getting Jealous…
Jealousy: PART I
Jealousy: PART II
Jealousy: PART III
Jealousy: PART IV
Jealousy: PART V, PART VI
Jealousy: PART VII, PART VIII, PART IX
PART X
“Do you add the powdered root of asphodel after the Tebo tusks?”
There was a pause.
“Draco? Draco?”
Draco looked up startled.
“What?” he snapped and glared at Blaise who was looking at him strangely. The boy’s dark skin was dripping with perspiration and Draco could feel sweat dotting the back of his neck too, even though the weather outside was freezing.
“I was asking if you add the powdered root of asphodel after the Tebo tusks? Merlin, what’s up with you today?”
Draco looked down at his steaming Potion that was giving off a faint aroma of new Muggle magazines and smoking gently. He hadn’t been listening to anything at all during the entire lesson. His hands had done all the work by themselves and now he was looking at his own methodically concocted potion.
“Before, and nothing is up with me. I’m just tired.”
Blaise unceremoniously thunked his roughly grounded Tebo tusk into his cauldron that held a liquid akin to dirty dishwashing water. Draco smirked as it gave a hiss and then promptly caught alight. Blaise gave a yelp and then starting laughing as Potter’s at the front of the room did the same thing.
“Christ!” They Gryffindor shouted and a stream of water arched over the class and precisely into Potter’s cauldron. Granger gave him an exasperated look and put her wand back on the table. The Weasel was putting out the flames on Potter’s shirt with his hands.
Draco’s eyes narrowed as he watched the larger hands move unrestricted over the slim hips and the shoulder blades. Jealousy flared up as Potter lifted his arms to accommodate the Weasel and turned so the red-head beat out the flames on his back. Potter’s eyes registered Blaise’s cauldron which was still crackling merrily and gave him the thumbs up.
Blaise returned them with a smirk, which Draco noticed was mirrored pathetically on his own.
“Here’s to failing Potions,” Blaise said appraisingly and Potter grinned. Draco just slammed his knife onto the table and went to look for Pansy.
PART XI
“Professor McGonagall wishes to see Harry Potter, Sir.”
Harry looked up from his Charms notes and saw Ginny standing resolutely beside Professor Flitwick, her face grave and still. Harry felt his stomach plummet. What the fuck had happened? Professor Flitwick seemed to be thinking along those same lines, as he quickly nodded and gave Harry a sympathetic look as he haphazardly pushed his books into his bag. His green quill fluttered to the floor, but Harry simply ignored it as he swung his back over his shoulder. Somebody would give it to him later.
He threaded his way to Ginny, giving her questioning looks. She simply shook her head and left out the classroom door. Harry took one last look at the class and saw Malfoy looking at him sharply. The boy’s eyes were grey and his lips were tight. He didn’t look happy about something.
Harry followed Ginny up the corridor and onto a landing.
“What’s happening, Ginny?” he asked catching up with her. Her red hair, which was tied loosely at the base of her neck, swung as she shook her head.
“Not here,”
Harry frowned and the feeling in his stomach intensified. Ginny was walking quickly now, and for the first time Harry noticed she didn’t have her bag. He followed her up some more stairs and towards the West Wing.
“Hang on,” he said, stopping dead. “This isn’t the way to McGonagall’s office.” Ginny just gave a ‘god-you’re-thick’ look and practically ran up the next flight of stairs. When Harry had caught up with her, she was standing in the middle of the staircase tapping on the sandstone wall with her wand.
“What the-
“Shhh.”
The wall suddenly caved in and the world went white. Light streamed out of the hidden doorway and Harry cried out and put his hands over his eyes. He dimly saw Ginny’s silhouette move into the light and followed her blindly.
As his eyes began to adjust to the brilliant sunlight, he realised he was outside. Actually on a balcony that was running around the outside of the castle. The light was being reflected directly off the newly fallen snow.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” came Ginny’s voice, from around a corner and in the shadows of a massive turret. “I wanted to show you.”
“What about McGonag-
All he got was another ‘god-you’re-thick’ looks as Ginny simply leant against the wall, sunlight beating down on her face.
“I thought we could…” she grinned and beckoned. Harry’s stomach clenched. What the fuck? Ginny’s come and taken me out of class, got me all worried, to fool around up here? He gave a small smile and put down his bag. Why am I not loving this? This is what I love… loved… about Ginny.
He moved closer and encircled her waist with his arms. She slipped hers around his neck and sighed. And then Harry noticed something. Her hair looked white. The unrelenting sunlight that was shooting straight off the snow was making her hair look so white, it almost looked blonde. He reached up and stroked it, it felt like straw. He didn’t imagine that’s what his would feel like.
He gently lifted Ginny up, so that she was his height and resting against the wall. That’s better, a small voice inside his head said. Taller and blond. Perfect. Suddenly Harry’s lips collided with Ginny’s and his tongue was invading her mouth. He wanted it hard and fast and now.
Within minutes, Harry had her bra under her shirt, hanging loosely from her shoulders and her skirt bunched up round her waist. The thin pink knickers were twisted around an ankle. Harry’s trousers were pooling around his feet, and if it hadn’t been for his robes, his bare backside would have been on display for anyone on the grounds.
“Gods, yes,” he hissed, as he moved faster and faster inside her. The friction against his length was delicious but it wasn’t…enough. He wanted to feel hurt. He wanted someone crashing into him. It was all fine doing the actual thrusting, but he really wanted to be taken. He wanted to feel someone tearing through him, invading him.
Ginny’s head was lolling around on the sandstone behind her, eyes shut and mouth slightly open. Harry’s hands were still supporting underneath her and he dug his fingers in as he felt a pooling in his lower abdomen.
He thought of long slim fingers gripping into his own hips, of a flat chest against his back. Of muttered curses in a deep voice. He wanted to feel full and assaulted. He saw sweat dripping off flawless skin, of hair clinging to furrowed forehead, of Malfoy’s face moaning in front of him. Of those thin lips bruised and hurt. Of those grey eyes wanting him, needing him. Of-
“Jesus Christ!”
Harry came. His orgasm tearing through him as he emptied himself. Ginny was shuddering beneath him, her small hands grabbing hard at his shoulders. After a moment he felt the post coital calm settling over him, and Ginny gave a huffed mewling sound as he gently withdrew.
“I really, really like this place now,” said Ginny, with a grin. Harry smiled weakly back, his eyes fixated on the white strands of her hair. He ran his hands through it and then lowered his face into it…guiltily wondering what conditioner Malfoy used.
PART XII
Draco was among the thousands of wizards and witches who were flocking into the Lawrence Frost Quidditch Stadium. He had managed to shake Pansy off easily, suggesting that she might like something new to wear to Lady Fitzpatrick’s Dinner. Crabbe and Goyle were probably around the stadium somewhere, but Draco hadn’t seen them yet.
He had seen about the entirety of Hogwarts already though. Almost every student from third year up was attending Harry Potter’s debut game. Students flocked everywhere.
Draco’s hair had always been conspicuous. But even when he had been small, he had always liked it. He liked how it was so blonde that it looked white, and how it was always perfectly straight and swept around his head, rather than sat on it. And, as his mother said, he could never be lost in a crowd.
At this point in time though, he decided it would be…unfeasible… to be recognised. After all, he and Potter weren’t exactly known for being civil towards each other. Let alone cheerleaders at their respective Quidditch games. So he had put on a hat and crushed the blond strands under it. And so far he’d done well. He’d acquired his father’s seat in the Malfoy box with no trouble and had had no one apart from the ticket master recognise him.
As the teams strode out onto the pitch, it was easy to tell which player was Potter. Apart from the irritating announcer’s commentary. He was the slimmest on the team, and was at the back. Besides, though Draco would never admit it, he could pick Potter out of anywhere.
As the game began Draco kept his eyes fixed on Potter as he tore around the stadium. The announcer was about to wet himself he was so praiseworthy on Potter’s behalf. The Gryffindor was arching and twisting through the air, lazily dodging the expertly placed Bludgers that zoomed in his path.
It was clear the entire stadium was only watching Harry, as gasps and thundering applause were a result for even the most laymen of moves. Draco was beginning to get a strange feeling as he watched Harry Potter streak around the pitch, black and white robes streaming behind him, his body flat and taught against the handle. He didn’t know what it was.
He wanted Potter here. He didn’t want him to be an exhibit for thousands of people. He wanted Potter here with him and not out there with them. Draco buried his face in his hands as a picture of Pansy flashed into his mind. What was he doing? Who was he kidding? He loved Pansy. Right? He wanted to be with her. Right? And he didn’t want to be around Potter, at all. Right? No! It was wrong! It felt wrong. It was wrong. His own brain was against him. He did want to be around Potter. All the fucking time.
“Goddamit,” he muttered. Just as he heard the crowd erupt. Snapping his eyes back to the game, he saw that the entire stadium was on its feet. And in the middle, Harry Potter was soaring through the air, his left arm raised in triumph, his face alive and blazing.
“Fuck!” shouted Draco, only vaguely thankful for his private quarters. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He swung his bag onto his shoulder and searched through it for his wand. Rummaging around angrily his fingers nearly snapped in half an emerald green quill. He stared at it, his anger dissolving as he took in the green feather. He had taken it. From Charms. That day that the female Weasel had taken Potter out of class. Why had he taken it?
Anger surged back through him, and he grabbed his wand. He had missed Potter’s first fucking catch. He had missed it. Draco wanted to kill something.
And Malfoy Manor was billed for an unexplained exploding door at their private box at the Lawrence Frost Quidditch Stadium.
~~~
Author’s Notes: So, uh? You want to, I dunno…comment or something? LOL, so yeah, that’s the next three parts. I start school again tomorrow so I won’t have as much time to post, but since I’ve already written the next million chapters the posting times won’t be all that different. Just thought I would mention my school starting so you can all smother me in sympathy…*waits*
OH GOD, IN THE NAME OF H/D LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.
Patriotic Jess.
Loook...so shiny!...Jealousy: PART XIII, PART XIV, PART XV