FIC: Trust Enough To Listen (R)
Title: Trust Enough To Listen
Author: wendypops
Prompt: # 27
Summary: When Harry Potter gets a message about an emergency at Hogwarts, he dashes off to help. But helping proves difficult when he's distracted by a naked Draco Malfoy.
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Warning(s): Nudity but no sex
Word Count: 7477
Author's Notes: This prompt. As soon as i saw it i knew i needed to write it. It may read as pre-slash, but, read closer. Thank you to kjp-013 who read this in the dribs and drabs i wrote it in, kept me motivated and was suitably outraged at my "The Daily Profit" typo, while i simply found it hilarious.
Trust Enough To Listen
Since receiving Ron's letter almost an hour ago, Harry had replied, called out of training and rushed to get ready and leave. The letter had been brief, but it had been desperate. The request to keep the Aurors out of it had been worrying, and made Harry imagine the most dramatic and terrifying situations. Which, considering his own dramatic and terrifying past, was pretty fucking bad.
His hands were trembling slightly as he Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. He began walking up the long drive at a sedate pace, but soon began to jog, quicker and quicker, until he was running and panting for breath. He was in such a rush, with his destination-the large doors-the only thing in his vision that he completely failed to see the other person walking up the path at a more sensible speed. That was until he ran straight into him.
There was a quiet, “Oof,” and a surprised, “Ugh,” before two hands reached out to grip Harry's arms, managing to keep both of them standing. And then Harry began to apologise.
“I'm sorry, I didn't even see you!”
“It's fine, Potter.”
That was when Harry actually registered the person in front of him for the first time. Malfoy stood, straightening his shirt, and actually didn't look too pissed off.
“From your hurry, I assume you've been in communication with Weasley?”
“Yeah,” said Harry, too happy that Malfoy wasn't angrier to worry about whether he should watch what he said. “He said there'd been an emergency, that he needed my help-Auror help-but without letting the Aurors know. I was worried, so I was rushing.”
Malfoy nodded, said nothing and began walking towards the castle. Harry fell into step with Malfoy as they continued on their way.
“Why are you here?” Harry asked.
“The same reason as you, I would think.”
“Because of Ron's emergency?” Harry glanced at Malfoy and caught him rolling his eyes.
“It's Hogwarts' emergency, Potter. Not just Weasley's.” After a frown from Harry, Malfoy expounded. “I received a letter from Pansy. Obviously she was more forthcoming with details.”
“So what's happened?”
“I said details, not specifics. I don't know exactly what's happened, only that the whole of Hogwarts has been affected, and that it can't be terribly dangerous, because Pansy finds it hilarious.” Malfoy paused, lips pursed. “Though it has to be worth worrying about, as they've sent all the students home and asked that the Aurors not be officially involved.”
“That's what had me so worried,” Harry hurried to say. “What could have happened that they need help urgently, but they only send for two trainee Aurors?”
“I don't know, but we're going to find out.”
Suddenly a thought struck Harry, and he voiced it. “Won't it seem weird? Both of us blowing off training on the same day?”
Malfoy just shrugged. “It's not the first time.”
Further conversation ceased; they had reached the large oak front doors of Hogwarts castle. They stood, wands out, looking at them. Neither Harry nor Malfoy moved forwards to open them. Glancing at one another but avoiding eye contact, it was clear to Harry that both of them were worrying about what they were going to find inside.
After a couple of minutes, Malfoy turned, one eyebrow raised, to Harry.
“Scared, Potter?”
Harry rolled his eyes, but it worked. He walked up to the doors and pulled them open. Together he and Malfoy walked into the Hogwarts entrance hall with their wands raised.
They looked around, but no one was there; the hall was empty. The chill that went down Harry's spine was unnerving, and he wondered what had happened that could make the atmosphere feel so eerie as soon as you walked in the door. The chill continued, and Harry realised he was cold. It was mid-September and still warm outside, but the halls of Hogwarts had always been breezy and cool. This was different, though.
Harry frowned as he registered that he was equally cold all over. Refusing to acknowledge the realisation until he'd seen it with his own eyes, Harry slowly looked down at himself.
Yes, he was naked.
Without thinking, he glanced up at Malfoy, who was looking at Harry with an amused look on his face, and no clothes on.
“It's actually amazing how oblivious you are.”
“We're naked,” said Harry.
“Yes,” confirmed Malfoy. “I'd been standing here for at least a minute looking at you naked before you yourself realised you were naked.”
Harry blushed; at the fact that Malfoy had been staring at his naked body and in embarrassment at his lack of self awareness, both.
“So, this is what happened?” Harry asked without looking at Malfoy.
“Yes, this would definitely make Pansy cackle with glee. And it would explain why they had to send the students home. I'd like to know exactly how it happened, though.”
“Harry?” The voice came drifting in from the great hall, much more subdued and wary than its normal loud and boisterous self.
“Ron?” called Harry in reply. Only now did his hands instinctively fly up to cover himself.
From the open door to the great hall, Ron's large ginger head appeared. He obviously spotted Harry and Malfoy standing by the front doors, because he instantly screwed his eyes shut.
“Don't be such a prude, Weasley. We'll never get this fixed if we hide behind doors with our eyes closed.” Malfoy's voice was almost teasing.
Ron frowned, but his eyes remained closed. “Not until your-it's- Not until you cover up!”
Harry looked around at Malfoy and saw that he had made no move to cover himself. He told himself unconvincingly that it was the shock that made him look a little longer than was necessary. Malfoy didn't seem to notice, as his attention was still on Ron.
“Why? You must have seen a penis before, because I'm assuming you've got one of your own.”
“I don't want to see yours!”
“Then don't look at it. My face doesn't disappear when the rest of my body is naked.”
“It's no use, Draco,” came a voice from across the hall.
Parkinson was coming down the stairs, just as naked as the rest of them, and just as uncaring of that fact as Malfoy seemed to be. Harry looked away quickly and noticed that Ron had turned his head in Parkinson's direction. And opened his eyes.
“He's as prudish as they come. I could understand a fear of breasts, but growing up with a dozen brothers you'd think he'd be used to a few cocks swinging about.”
“Pansy, you're a delight, as always.”
In response to the sarcasm, Parkinson smiled, walked over to Malfoy and embraced him. Malfoy hugged her back, without a trace of embarrassment. When they parted, Harry couldn't help but notice what else there wasn't a trace of. Embarrassed but pleased, Harry looked away.
"What happened?" Harry asked of no one in particular.
Parkinson sighed. "Shall we sit down in the great hall and talk?"
"Wait!" cried Ron as his head disappeared from around the door. Harry could hear Ron's bare feet slapping again the stone floor as he ran.
With all three of them shaking their heads, Harry, Malfoy and Parkinson walked together into the great hall. Although his companions remained steadfastly naked and unashamed, Harry kept himself cupped in both palms.
When they entered the great hall, Ron was already sitting at the near end of the closest house table, which was set with four goblets and two water jugs. When Ron saw them, he looked desperately at Harry and unsubtly patted the bench next to him. Taking the obvious hint, Harry sat down beside Ron. Malfoy and Parkinson took seats opposite.
Ron coughed a little uncomfortably. "Thanks for coming, Harry." At that, Parkinson coughed pointedly. Ron looked up at her, then from her to Malfoy. "And you."
"It's so nice to feel wanted," said Malfoy, who then turned directly to Parkinson. "What happened?"
“I don't know. Everything was fine last night.” She wrinkled her forehead in thought. “I woke up naked this morning, but that didn't concern me, considering I sleep naked anyway.”
As she spoke, Harry heard Ron utter a quiet groan. Malfoy nodded along as though Parkinson's words were not news to him. Harry wondered if Malfoy had known Parkinson slept naked, and if so how he knew. Then Harry thought about Malfoy sleeping naked, and had to stifle a quiet groan of his own.
“So when did you realise something was wrong?” asked Malfoy.
“When I went to get dressed.”
“Your clothes had vanished?” Harry prompted.
“No,” said Parkinson. “But the second I opened my wardrobe all my clothes jumped off their hangers and ran away.”
“Literally?”
Parkinson nodded, but Harry was sceptical. It must have shown on his face, because Parkinson smiled at him and said, “Try it.”
“Try what?”
“Conjure yourself some clothes and see what happens to them.” She was out and out smirking now.
Nervously, Harry lifted his wand. He concentrated on what he wanted and then whispered, “Exsisto vestis,” as he moved his wand. On the table in front of him appeared a pair of red and grey striped boxer shorts. He looked up at Parkinson, feeling smug, but she still wore her smirk. Harry reached out for the boxers, already imagining the warmth and support they would offer his balls, but before his hand could grasp them, the boxer shorts leapt off of the table and scurried out of the hall. Aghast, Harry simply watched them go.
“Told you,” said Parkinson. When Harry turned to look at her, she had folded her arms smugly on the table, causing her breasts to be amplified by the position. Gulping in something close to terror, Harry hastily grabbed the two water jugs and moved them to block his view.
Malfoy looked at Harry, eyes sparkling, and laughed. It made Harry's stomach flip. He wasn't sure if Malfoy was laughing at his runaway boxers or Parkinson's jugs, but either way, Harry knew it was at his expense, and quickly tried to get back on track.
“What about you, Ron?” Harry asked.
“What about me?” Ron replied, tearing his eyes up and away to look at Harry.
“What happened? How did you know something was wrong?”
“Same.” Ron motioned a thumb towards Parkinson.
“You woke up naked or your clothes ran away?” enquired Malfoy.
“Both,” Ron blurted quickly, then, slower, “Except I, er, don't usually wake up naked.”
Parkinson's smirk was back. “I'm betting check flannel pyjamas.”
Ron said nothing, but went slightly red and avoided looking at Parkinson (in the eyes or breasts).
“Anyway,” Parkinson began, “I strongly suspect whatever happened, it's only affecting the inside of the castle. Professor Sprout is hiding out in the greenhouses, because her nightdress reappeared as soon as she ventured outside.”
“That's right!” cried Ron, obviously happy to have something else to talk about other than his choice of pyjamas. “Hagrid wasn't affected at all, and-” He gulped. “-and we begged him not to come inside the castle. He's holed up in his hut.”
Harry felt a collective shudder pass around the four of them as it seemed they were all imagining Hagrid naked.
“Okay,” said Malfoy, seemingly the first to recover, “I suggest we split up.” He looked across the table at Harry and Ron. “As Weasley seems the most uncomfortable with his own body, and as Potter loves-action-hates-research, you two should walk the perimeter of the castle. See if the theory holds up throughout the entire perimeter and attempt to sense the border of magic, maybe get a sense of what we're dealing with.”
At his words, Harry smiled a little at the fact that Malfoy seemed to know him so well; that was exactly what Harry had been going to suggest. If Malfoy said he and Parkinson were going to head to the library-
“Pansy and I will head to the library and get started on research. We'll try to narrow down the area of magic we're looking at, perhaps start making a short list of possible spells or miscast spells that could have this effect.”
Malfoy looked at his three companions expectantly, perhaps waiting for an objection. Other than an awkward cough from Ron and two smiles from Harry and Parkinson, he got nothing.
“Okay then,” said Malfoy, standing. “Meet in the library in an hour?” Everyone looked at the watches they were no longer wearing. “In about an hour... ish?” corrected Malfoy.
Nods all around and soon Malfoy and Parkinson were off in the direction of the library.
Without speaking, Harry and Ron stood and made their way to the entrance hall and through the front doors of the castle. As soon as their clothes re-materialised-Ron in the exact pyjamas Parkinson had described-they began a cheerful meander around the castle.
“It's nice to feel material against my skin again,” said Ron, smiling. “It's only been a few hours, but you soon miss it.”
“Not to mention the warmth,” added Harry, practically snuggling down into his jumper as he remembered the chill he'd experienced when he'd stepped into the castle.
Staying as close to the castle's walls as he could, so as to test the boundary of the spell as well as possible, Harry casually reached out with his magic to feel for spells, as he'd been training to do just a few weeks ago with the Aurors.
“So, Ron, how've your first couple of weeks at Hogwarts been?”
Ron's eyes lit up. “Brilliant! I love teaching Quidditch. Seeing newbies get on to a broom for the first time, even if they're as rubbish as Hermione was, is great; the happiness on their faces is more magic than the spells they learn in the classroom.” He paused to draw breath. “Quidditch season hasn't started yet, but I'm really looking forward to helping all the teams train and refereeing the matches. I hope the Gryffindor team are good, I'll be mortified if I have to start inventing reasons to penalise Slytherin just to help them out.”
Harry laughed. It was great to see the obvious joy Ron was getting from his new job. When he'd dropped out of Auror training after a couple of months, Harry had been worried Ron wouldn't find something to do with his life that he truly enjoyed. Now, Harry knew he didn't have to worry.
“Speaking of Hermione,” said Harry, “she was asking after you the other day.”
Ron's smile was small, but it was there. “Tell her I'm fine. We'll hang out as friends like we used to, it's just...”
“Too soon?” Harry prompted. Ron nodded. To change the subject, Harry asked, “What's the deal with Parkinson? What does she do?”
“She works with Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing.” Ron seemed to perk up, and then he frowned. “I'm not sure exactly what her title is, but I heard she's here to do some sort of Healer training because no where else would take her.”
Harry mirrored Ron's expression and they both fell silent.
A few minutes later, Ron spoke up. “How's Auror training?”
“Really good!” Harry replied. “Just the other day we were learning how to track someone from the moment they Apparate. Malfoy led me on a merry chase across the roofs of London.” He laughed, remembering how the wind messed up Malfoy's hair on top of the Gherkin as he'd taunted Harry before Apparating away to the roof of Buckingham Palace.
“Do you often work with Malfoy?” Ron's question interrupted Harry's memories.
“Well, yeah, in groups sometimes, but we often pair up alone.” Harry coughed, feeling as though he was hiding something from his friend, even though his words were perfectly honest. “It's, well... you know.”
“Yeah,” replied Ron, “I know.” Except he didn't. “Is it-I mean, do you trust him?”
“Do I trust Malfoy?” Harry had never really thought about it before, but now that he was... “Yeah, I do.” He shrugged, not feeling his answer needed any explanation.
Ron didn't respond.
They spent roughly the next 40 minutes slowly walking around the castle, all the while remaining fully clothed.
As they approached the front of the castle once more, a thought occurred to Harry. He called to Ron and stepped back from the castle wall, scanning the windows to approximate where they were. Once he'd figured it out, Harry made his way more quickly a dozen or so windows closer to the castle's doors. Peering into the windows one at a time, Harry finally spotted Malfoy and Parkinson sitting at a table in the library, reading through books and making notes.
“Ron, give me a leg up.”
Ron obliged and Harry, leaning on the window from the waist up, began rapping at the glass. It only took a few seconds before Malfoy turned his head, frowned and made his way over. Harry bit his lip and tried very hard not to blush or stare or giggle, as Malfoy's clearly viewable penis rocked from side to side against his upper thighs as he walked towards the window-towards Harry.
At the window, Ron let Harry down as Malfoy opened it wide and leaned his upper body out.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“There was no change at all around the perimeter,” answered Harry, “but I was thinking-”
“Don't hurt yourself,” said Malfoy quietly, though he listened carefully.
“-could the source of the spell be the front doors themselves? Could walking in and out through that spot be the trigger?”
Malfoy's eyes widened in realisation of what Harry was trying to say and Malfoy took over. “Would entering the castle another way-”
“For example, through a window.” Harry motioned to the window as he spoke.
“-leave a person fully clothed?” finished Malfoy. “Only one way to find out, Potter.” He reached his arms down towards Harry and opened and closed his hands in an impatient gesture.
Grasping Malfoy's arms to keep him steady, Harry once again got a leg up from Ron and attempted to climb into the library. Just as Harry's was about the step through the window, a breeze passed by and Ron sneezed, leaning forward slightly as he did so. The motion caused Harry's leg to drop slightly, but his body kept moving forward, which resulted in his foot catching on the window frame. He pitched forward, decidedly not shrieking (except in his head), and fell into Malfoy, sending them both to the floor.
Reassuringly comfortable, but rather embarrassed by the position he and Malfoy had landed in, Harry refused to remove his face from the crook of Malfoy's neck for some seconds. He was laying on top of Malfoy, with his knees either side of Malfoy's upper thighs. Harry realised he was naked when Malfoy's hands gently squeezed his hips and Harry felt his warm squishy bits give a twitch against Malfoy's warm squishy bits.
As if hit with a lightning spell, Harry jumped up and away from Malfoy. Deciding to over play his embarrassment in case Ron or Parkinson had been watching, Harry made a show of covering himself up by grabbing a book off of the nearest bookshelf and hurriedly thrusting it in front of his penis. He regretted it slightly as his growing member protested in pain when the book came down a little too hard.
“Well, I'm naked,” stated Harry.
“At least you figured that out quicker than last time,” quipped Malfoy with a quick wink. As he stood up he rubbed his lower back, but smiled.
Harry was definitely starting to blush, so he charged on quickly.
“Which proves that the spell is affecting the entire castle, not just the main entrance. Which means we're dealing with a large, wide-spread and powerful spell.”
“Charm,” said a voice that floated over from further in the room.
“Sorry, what?” asked Harry, tipping his head to see past Malfoy at Parkinson, still sitting and reading the books in front of her.
“We've narrowed the options down a little, Potter,” said Malfoy as he turned and walked back to his place at the table.
“We're dealing with a large, wide-spread and powerful charm,” explained Parkinson.
Making his way toward the piles of books between Malfoy and Parkinson, Harry waited for more information.
“The fact the the clothes materialise and de-materialise, not to mention literally run off when conjured, all indicate a charm of some kind.” Malfoy looked up from his book and at Harry as he spoke. “That we now know it is definitely isolated to the castle, and the entire castle at that-not simply the entrance-tells us the charm has altered the properties of the castle itself, rather than of those inhabiting it.”
“All facts that will help us narrow the specific spell down,” added Parkinson, flipping a page in her book without looking up.
“And help us fix it, yes?” asked Harry, trying not to sound desperate.
Still looking at Harry, Malfoy licked his lips, smiled and nodded before turning back to his book. The simple gesture did what it was expected to, and Harry pressed his own book a little harder to his now a little harder problem.
Harry was beginning to feel a little less awkward, but a little more useless when Ron came running unabashedly through the library doors.
Panting, he said, “I'm so sorry, Harry! Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
Finding it difficult to speak through his renewed embarrassment, Harry simply nodded and shook his head appropriately.
“He's fine, Weasley, stop worrying,” said Malfoy, his eyes trained on his book.
“Yeah,” said Parkinson, taking full advantage of Ron's sudden lack of decorum to get an eyeful. “He had a soft landing.” At that both Parkinson and Ron turned to look at Harry. The first with a wink, the second with a questioning frown. Tellingly, Harry's gaze fell to Malfoy, who still steadfastly refused to look up from his book.
Before Harry had a chance to blush all the way down to his toes, Malfoy coughed to get their attention.
“What I keep wondering is why?” said Malfoy once they were all listening. “Why would someone want to make everyone in Hogwarts naked? Is it a prank? Someone's sick and twisted way to get their rocks off without having to buy an adult magazine? Or something more sinister that didn't go quite as planned?” He pursed his lips. “I just don't see a realistic motivation.”
“Oh!” said Harry, remembering Malfoy's instructions from earlier and wanting to be useful. “I kept my magic out for unfamiliar spells, but couldn't feel anything new around the outside of the castle's walls.”
“Nothing?” Malfoy asked, frowning deeply. “Nothing at all?”
“Zippo, zilch, nada, bloody bugger all. From the outside, the castle seems perfectly fine.”
Malfoy's frown did not disappear. Looking at Harry he said, “We need to speak to Headmistress McGonagall.”
“We do?”
“We do.” Malfoy turned to Parkinson. “Is she still at Hogwarts?”
“Of course she is,” Parkinson replied immediately. “She'll be in her office. The password is 'Oddment'.”
Malfoy nodded once and headed straight for the library doors. Harry dashed after him, trying adamantly to ignore the feeling of a breeze against his balls as he ran.
Once they were up the first flight of steps and out of ear shot of the library, Harry looked at Malfoy, questions forming on his lips. Instead of asking them, he saw how worried Malfoy looked. His eyebrows were drawn together tightly in a frown and he was nibbling on his lower lip. Occasionally the corners of his mouth would turn down and his frown would ease a little, but seem no less worrying. Harry had been working alongside Malfoy for almost a year, and had recently got close enough to him to read him very well indeed. Malfoy was doing some serious thinking and debating with himself. Harry also knew enough to be worried.
They made it to the Headmistress' office without speaking. Standing in front of the stone gargoyle, Harry felt his nerves plateau; his professor and head of house for years was naked in there. Before Harry had time to come to terms with that, Malfoy had said the password and the gargoyle had stepped out of the way.
Walking up the steps at a steady pace without rushing, Harry and Malfoy reached the door to McGonagall's office and stood staring at it.
“Knock then,” said Malfoy without looking at Harry.
“What? Why me? You're the one that said we had to come see McGonagall. You knock.”
“You're the one she'll be happy to see. You knock.”
Puzzled at Malfoy's sudden reluctance, Harry turned to see Malfoy using both hands to cover his genitals for the first time since they had been on display. He also seemed to be trying to cover as much of his torso as his slimline arms would allow. While he looked, Harry also noticed Malfoy shift his weight from one leg to the other. Malfoy was-
“-Nervous,” Harry finished the thought out loud. “You're nervous.”
“What? No I'm not. Shut up.”
And as if the accusation had prompted him into action, Malfoy lifted one arm and reached out to the door. Before his knuckles could make contact with the wood, however, a voice sounded from the other side.
“You'll catch your death out there in the corridor; do come in.” She already sounded exacerbated and they weren't even in her office yet. Harry thought it might be a record.
Both adamantly not looking at each other or straight ahead-in fact both looking somewhere off to the left or right of the ceiling-Harry and Malfoy made their way into McGonagall's office. Harry made it about three steps before stubbing his toe and wincing as his eyes began to water, but not letting go of his goods. From the corner of his eye Harry could see that Malfoy had made it a little further, finally walking into a chair and hissing in pain.
“Really, this is ridiculous.” Dressed or not, the ratio of McGonagall's voice sounded just as much fed up to amused as it always had done. “We are all adults here, or so I was led to believe. Please use your eyes to find the chairs in front of my desk and sit yourselves down in them.”
Now sharing guilty glances with each other, but still refusing to look directly at McGonagall, Harry and Malfoy quickly located the chairs. While Malfoy sat swiftly and crossed his legs to keep himself covered and his hands free, Harry only panicked. With McGonagall only a desk width away and seated, she would surely have an unimpeded view of Harry's crotch. In his suddenly doubled and befuddled embarrassment, all Harry could think about was covering himself more thoroughly. He grabbed the closest thing he could see-the top sheet of a sheaf of parchment-and ensconced his manhood within it before sitting down.
They were all silent for a few seconds, before the atmosphere was broken by subdued laughter coming from Malfoy's direction. When Harry looked over at him, Malfoy simply covered his mouth with a hand and shook his head. Forgetting his wariness to do so, Harry turned to McGonagall to shed some light on what was so funny. Far from seeming amused, her eyes were wide in shock and aimed directly at the last place Harry wanted them to be: his penis.
Quickly bowing his head to look at himself, Harry instantly saw the source of amusement and shock. The parchment he had wrapped around himself was being held upright by his body, and for all intents and purposes, looked like an erection.
Before he had a chance to do anything about the situation, McGonagall seemed to overcome her shock.
“Mr Potter, that is one of my third years' Transfiguration homework, and I will be needing it back.”
Turning redder than he thought physically possible, Harry hurriedly removed the parchment, crossed his legs, and deposited the homework back onto the pile he had removed it from. It remained curled into a roll, but no one moved to flatten it out.
Ever the more mature one, McGonagall quickly moved on.
“How can I help you, gentlemen?”
Malfoy cleared his throat, with a hint of a smile still playing on his lips, ready to speak. Although he had no idea why Malfoy had wanted to see McGonagall, Harry got there first with a question of his own.
“Why didn't you want the Aurors involved?” he blurted. He could feel Malfoy frowning at him, but did not turn to look.
“I have two Aurors sitting in my office right now,” replied McGonagall coolly.
“Two trainee Aurors, who you chose specifically and who were clearly asked to keep the Auror department out of the loop. Why?”
“It is quite a good question,” commented Malfoy, and Harry felt buoyed by the show of support.
McGonagall sighed. “Because we-I-the school and everyone involved do not want this embarrassing incident escaping the confines of the castle.”
“You're afraid the magic will spread? Start affecting Hogsmeade and-” Harry began to worry, but before he could get too far, Malfoy interrupted.
“I think the Headmistress is referring to the spread of information.” Malfoy looked at McGonagall for confirmation and received a nod.
“If word got out what has happened here, if the parents find out, if The Daily Prophet had even a hint of-” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I will not risk it, not for something so ridiculous.” She motioned with both hands to her own body, and despite himself, Harry glanced down. He was worryingly disappointed and hugely relieved when all he saw was a block of flesh-coloured and undefined body.
“I can't see you!” he cried out, happily.
McGonagall looked down at herself, then back up with a roll of her eyes. “A simple blurring spell, Mr Potter. Which was why your clumsy entrance was entirely useless.”
Through his renewed embarrassment, Harry smiled.
Unaffected by Harry's distraction, Malfoy continued questioning McGonagall. “So why us? You don't trust the Auror department to not shoot their mouths off, but you trust us?”
“Essentially, yes.” McGonagall looked at Malfoy steadily, waiting.
Seemingly satisfied, Malfoy shrugged. “Okay.”
Harry, however, was not satisfied. “What about the students? You sent them home, surely they'll be telling their parents all about what happened right now?”
At this, McGonagall smiled slyly. “They can't.” When both Harry and Malfoy simply stared at her, she expounded. “We sent them home through the Floo, but not before I made a slight alteration. I used a spell similar to the Fidelius Charm, making it impossible for the students to talk about what has happened with anyone who does not already know.”
“That's... quite brilliant,” said Malfoy.
“That's possible?” questioned Harry.
“It's magic, Mr Potter; almost anything is possible.”
Smiling, Harry turned to Malfoy to share in the amazement, but found that Malfoy's face had returned to its frowned, worried expression, and he knew he was about to find out why Malfoy had really wanted to speak to the Headmistress.
“Headmistress McGonagall, we've narrowed down the types of spells that could be the cause of the nudity-” Malfoy spoke to McGonagall like he hadn't been embarrassed to be standing naked and knocking on her door only ten minutes ago. “-Pansy and Weasley are continuing to research as we speak.”
“I'm sure you didn't pluck up the courage to enter my office in your current state just to keep me up to date on your research progress, Mr Malfoy.” Although her words were light-hearted, McGonagall's tone was serious.
“No.” Malfoy drew a deep breath, as if about to give bad news, and Harry was still none the wiser. “After a perimeter check of the castle's exterior, Potter found no trace of a magical disturbance.” Malfoy turned to look at him, face open, expectant.
“That's right,” said Harry, unsure what Malfoy wanted him to say. “From outside, the castle appears perfectly normal. No unexpected magic present.” He shrugged.
“And that means-” Malfoy began, turning his head back to face McGonagall.
“That the source of the magic originated inside the castle.” McGonagall paled as she spoke.
Malfoy nodded, and then nobody said anything.
Feeling a little foolish, but knowing he wouldn't be able to help if he didn't know what the hell was going on, Harry broke the silence to ask, “And what does that mean?”
Biting his lip before he spoke, Malfoy answered. “It means someone inside the castle cast the spell.”
“So, a student playing a prank then?” asked Harry, not understanding why the other two seemed so glum.
“Mr Potter,” McGonagall looked strained, as if what she was about to say was causing her great pain. “Magic of this magnitude, to affect the entire castle, everyone in it and over a sustained period of time... No student has the power to cast a spell like that.”
And then Harry realised what was being implied. “You think an adult did this? One of the staff?”
“If everything you and Mr Malfoy have told me is true, then that is the only conclusion.”
“The question is who.” Malfoy spoke quietly, and looked uneasily across the desk at McGonagall.
“I will leave you two in charge of investigating that along with continuing to research the spell. Do whatever you need to, I will let the staff know you may wish to speak with them.” She sighed. “Just let me know as soon as possible.”
Malfoy nodded and stood. Harry followed suit, still unbelieving. They left the office with much more grace than they had entered, and neither of them bothered to cover themselves up as they made their way back through the corridors towards the library.
“I can't believe it.” Harry barely registered the fact that he had spoken.
“Can't believe what?” Malfoy asked.
“That someone on the Hogwarts staff would do this.”
“They may not have meant to.” At Harry's snort of disbelief, Malfoy continued. “No, listen. What on Earth would anyone have to gain from making everyone-themselves included-naked?”
“An eyeful?” Harry suggested with a wry and cynical smile (and maybe a glance at Malfoy's cock).
Malfoy seemed to ponder this answer for a moment, before continuing. “No, it's not as simple as that. I think someone was up to something, but I don't think this was the intended result.”
“Then why didn't they just reverse the spell?”
“Maybe they don't know how.”
“This is stupid. Who would be reckless enough to attempt to cast a spell anything like this one if they didn't know what they were doing?” Harry was purposely dismissing the idea that someone at Hogwarts had caused the nudity, and he knew it. He wasn't sure why, but he did know he could come up with another explanation.
“Perhaps,” said Malfoy, slowly, “someone who has had some, but not enough, training in casting strong, far-reaching magic. Someone who has had some, but not enough, training in casting new and difficult spells without practise. Someone who has had some-”
“Stop.” Harry whirled to face Malfoy. They stood face to face, one floor above the library. He didn't need Malfoy to continue listing modules they had taken in their first few months of Auror training. He knew what Malfoy was suggesting. Harry shook his head but didn't speak.
“Potter, look at the facts.” Malfoy spoke quietly, understandingly, but firmly. “Why else would he have been so vague in his letter to you? Why else would he be so overly embarrassed about his nudity? Why else would he have been so brief and dismissive with his answers to our initial questions?”
“No.” Harry's head continued to shake, even in the face of Malfoy's logic.
“Harry,” Malfoy practically whispered, and Harry's head stilled. “I don't think this-” He motioned to their naked bodies and Harry looked at them both but did not blush. “-was his intention, but we need to find out what was, so we can find out what went wrong and reverse it.”
Looking Malfoy in the eye, Harry thought back over his own words from moments ago: Who would be reckless enough to attempt to cast a spell anything like this one if they didn't know what they were doing? He thought about his best friend, and how adequately those words could describe him, given viable motivation. He thought about the sympathy and understanding he saw in the grey eyes looking back at him, waiting. He thought about how much he trusted them.
“Okay,” Harry whispered back.
Malfoy nodded and placed one hand on Harry's bare shoulder, squeezed and let go. The touch made a warm shock travel though Harry's body. He expected it to go straight to his cock, but instead the feeling settled somewhere in his torso, between his heart and his stomach.
They made their way to the library in silence. Harry's silence was contemplation of the conversation that was about to happen, and Malfoy's silence felt tense with apprehension.
Voices could be heard through the open library door before they reached the room.
“...help, you know.”
“Nah, Harry and Malfoy have it covered.”
“I'm sure they do, but that doesn't mean you can't try. I'm sure they'd appreciate your effort.”
“I quit the Aurors for a reason, you know.”
“A reason you refuse to talk about, so don't try to use it as an excuse.”
“An excuse for what?”
“Doing fuck all.”
“I'm not doing fuck all!”
“That certainly does not count as doing something.”
“But-”
As Harry and Malfoy entered the room, Ron fell silent and turned to look at them. The fuck all he seemed to be doing was... knitting. Harry frowned and looked closer, then wished he hadn't. It seemed Ron was attempting to knit himself some modesty, and had got as far as a willy warmer. Harry hastily looked up at Ron's face.
“Really, Weasley?” said Malfoy, who didn't seem in the least bit uncomfortable.
Ron glanced down at his covered manhood, then back up at Malfoy. “What? If you'd grown up with my mum, you'd know how to knit, too! And it hasn't run away yet!” He seemed inordinately proud of himself.
“Yes, and congratulations, but did you have to use green wool? It clashes garishly with your ginger pubic hair.” Malfoy seemed genuinely offended by Ron lack of colour coordination. Harry groaned; he really didn't want to listen to Malfoy talking about Ron's pubes.
Looking perplexed, Ron turned to Parkinson, who was flicking idly through the book in front of her, seemingly ignoring the conversation.
“She conjured it,” said Ron, pointing at Parkinson, which was enough to for Parkinson's cool façade to crumble, and she began to laugh.
“It looks adorable!” she announced, abandoning her book and gazing fondly at Ron's crotch.
All three men groaned, to varying degrees.
“Don't use the word 'adorable' to talk about my penis!”
“But it looks so snugly and-”
Parkinson's description was cut short by Malfoy clearing his throat loudly, obviously trying to get everyone's attention.
“We've spoken to Headmistress McGonagall and explained what we've discovered so far.”
“Which is what exactly?” asked Parkinson, clearly eager to find out what was going on.
“That the spell was cast from inside the castle,” said Harry. He paused. “By a member of the faculty.”
“One of the teachers did this?” Parkinson sounded as impressed as she did shocked.
Ron, Harry couldn't help but notice, remained silent.
“We believe,” Malfoy continued, “that the nudity was not the intended result. It is likely the spell was miscast, but we need to know what the caster's true intention was in order to reverse the spell.”
Nobody spoke for a few seconds. Harry's watched Ron, whose eyes were on Parkinson, his lips pursed, before he turned to look out of the library window. Suddenly Harry knew Ron wasn't going to say anything with some prompting.
Abandoning subtlety and tact, Harry blurted, “What the fuck were you trying to do, Ron?”
Ron's head snapped back to look at Harry. “How did you know?”
“I know you. I know there'll have been some deep-seated meaningful reason hidden behind a stupid ploy that just went wrong. I'm surprised I-that I didn't see it sooner. You've been too embarrassed, Ron. Because you didn't mean for this to happen, but you did mean for something to happen.” He too a deep breath, calming himself down. “What were you trying to do, Ron?”
Ron closed his eyes and blushed. “It's stupid-” He shook his head. “It's not stupid, it's...” He opened his eyes and looked at Parkinson. “It's you.”
“What? What do you mean? If you think I-”
“No.” Ron interrupted Parkinson's defence. “After years of dislike-hatred-and distrust. After, after the war. We both end up working at Hogwarts. I bring kids to the Hospital Wing with small and large injuries every other day. Hell, I'm in there with an injury myself at least once a week. We can't avoid each other. And it was awkward; avoiding each other's eye, barely talking. I... I needed to know I could trust you-that we could trust each other.”
Parkinson opened her mouth to speak and looked on the verge of tears. Whether those were tears of fury or understanding, they didn't find out. Malfoy interrupted before she could speak.
“What was the spell?”
Ron heaved a sigh, tore his gaze away from Parkinson and started shuffling through the pile of books on the table. He quickly located the one he was after.
“It was a spell about openness. It was supposed to help up speak more openly and honestly to each other,” explained Ron as he turned pages in the book. “Here.” He turned the book to Harry and Malfoy once he'd found the right page.
Harry took the book and could feel the warmth of Malfoy as he stood close to him in order to see. It was a page that listed several spells, along with accompanying wand movements, regarding openness. There was a spell to open a door, a spell to break something open and a spell to create an opening. Towards the bottom of the page the essence of the spells changed. Instead of spells to literally open something, the spells were more vague and open to interpretation. One spell, Publicus, stated it would 'open to all; make public'. Harry wondered if this was the spell Ron had cast, but couldn't see how that would specifically relate to making everyone's bodies public. Malfoy must have been reading more quickly, because before he could read the rest of the spells, Malfoy was speaking.
“You cast Patesco.” It wasn't a question.
Ron nodded. “It said it could be used to have things 'be laid open'.”
“Did you read much further than that?”
At Malfoy's question, Harry's eyes scanned down the page and read the entire description of the Patesco spell. As Ron shook his head, looking confused, Harry cringed.
“Patesco,” Harry read, directly from the book, “to be laid open, bare, exposed, to be revealed.”
“Literal translation: naked,” finished Malfoy.
“Oh, fuck.” And with that, Ron let his head fall to the table beside him.
Parkinson, recovered from whatever emotion had gripped her earlier, practically cackled with delight.
Undeterred by their reactions, Malfoy continued calmly. “What you were after was Proloquor.”
Again, Harry scanned the page and, as if he was Malfoy's sidekick, not his partner, he read: “Proloquor, to speak out, declare openly.” Then Harry turned a page in the book and laughed.
“Are you laughing at your best friend's embarrassment and misfortune?” Malfoy looked like he couldn't decide between being appalled or proud.
“No,” said Harry, still with laughter in his voice. “It's just that the next page handily lists the counter spells.”
There was a thud as Ron lifted his head and let it drop back to the table. Harry thought he heard Ron mumble, “For fuck's sake,” but he couldn't be sure over his own chuckle.
Parkinson had stood and now moved around the table to Ron. She sat beside him, reached out a hand to his shoulder, and seemed to be whispering to him. Harry wondered what exactly the openness Ron had craved was in regard to, but saw he must have achieved it anyway.
“I hope McGonagall's not too harsh on him,” said Malfoy quietly, breaking Harry's thoughts.
“Really? Why?” asked Harry.
Malfoy shrugged. Harry smiled.
“Well?” said Malfoy.
“Well what?” Harry turned to Malfoy and frowned.
“The counter spell is right there. Aren't you going to fix the mess your friend made?”
Harry nodded slowly, keeping his eyes low and allowing himself another glance at what he'd enjoyed spending the day looking at. He knew he'd been looking and nodding for too long when Malfoy's hand blocked the view of his penis.
“You've had your eyeful, now turn around so I can have mine. Then cast the spell.”
Grinning, Harry did as he was told.
Author: wendypops
Prompt: # 27
Summary: When Harry Potter gets a message about an emergency at Hogwarts, he dashes off to help. But helping proves difficult when he's distracted by a naked Draco Malfoy.
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Warning(s): Nudity but no sex
Word Count: 7477
Author's Notes: This prompt. As soon as i saw it i knew i needed to write it. It may read as pre-slash, but, read closer. Thank you to kjp-013 who read this in the dribs and drabs i wrote it in, kept me motivated and was suitably outraged at my "The Daily Profit" typo, while i simply found it hilarious.
Trust Enough To Listen
Since receiving Ron's letter almost an hour ago, Harry had replied, called out of training and rushed to get ready and leave. The letter had been brief, but it had been desperate. The request to keep the Aurors out of it had been worrying, and made Harry imagine the most dramatic and terrifying situations. Which, considering his own dramatic and terrifying past, was pretty fucking bad.
His hands were trembling slightly as he Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. He began walking up the long drive at a sedate pace, but soon began to jog, quicker and quicker, until he was running and panting for breath. He was in such a rush, with his destination-the large doors-the only thing in his vision that he completely failed to see the other person walking up the path at a more sensible speed. That was until he ran straight into him.
There was a quiet, “Oof,” and a surprised, “Ugh,” before two hands reached out to grip Harry's arms, managing to keep both of them standing. And then Harry began to apologise.
“I'm sorry, I didn't even see you!”
“It's fine, Potter.”
That was when Harry actually registered the person in front of him for the first time. Malfoy stood, straightening his shirt, and actually didn't look too pissed off.
“From your hurry, I assume you've been in communication with Weasley?”
“Yeah,” said Harry, too happy that Malfoy wasn't angrier to worry about whether he should watch what he said. “He said there'd been an emergency, that he needed my help-Auror help-but without letting the Aurors know. I was worried, so I was rushing.”
Malfoy nodded, said nothing and began walking towards the castle. Harry fell into step with Malfoy as they continued on their way.
“Why are you here?” Harry asked.
“The same reason as you, I would think.”
“Because of Ron's emergency?” Harry glanced at Malfoy and caught him rolling his eyes.
“It's Hogwarts' emergency, Potter. Not just Weasley's.” After a frown from Harry, Malfoy expounded. “I received a letter from Pansy. Obviously she was more forthcoming with details.”
“So what's happened?”
“I said details, not specifics. I don't know exactly what's happened, only that the whole of Hogwarts has been affected, and that it can't be terribly dangerous, because Pansy finds it hilarious.” Malfoy paused, lips pursed. “Though it has to be worth worrying about, as they've sent all the students home and asked that the Aurors not be officially involved.”
“That's what had me so worried,” Harry hurried to say. “What could have happened that they need help urgently, but they only send for two trainee Aurors?”
“I don't know, but we're going to find out.”
Suddenly a thought struck Harry, and he voiced it. “Won't it seem weird? Both of us blowing off training on the same day?”
Malfoy just shrugged. “It's not the first time.”
Further conversation ceased; they had reached the large oak front doors of Hogwarts castle. They stood, wands out, looking at them. Neither Harry nor Malfoy moved forwards to open them. Glancing at one another but avoiding eye contact, it was clear to Harry that both of them were worrying about what they were going to find inside.
After a couple of minutes, Malfoy turned, one eyebrow raised, to Harry.
“Scared, Potter?”
Harry rolled his eyes, but it worked. He walked up to the doors and pulled them open. Together he and Malfoy walked into the Hogwarts entrance hall with their wands raised.
They looked around, but no one was there; the hall was empty. The chill that went down Harry's spine was unnerving, and he wondered what had happened that could make the atmosphere feel so eerie as soon as you walked in the door. The chill continued, and Harry realised he was cold. It was mid-September and still warm outside, but the halls of Hogwarts had always been breezy and cool. This was different, though.
Harry frowned as he registered that he was equally cold all over. Refusing to acknowledge the realisation until he'd seen it with his own eyes, Harry slowly looked down at himself.
Yes, he was naked.
Without thinking, he glanced up at Malfoy, who was looking at Harry with an amused look on his face, and no clothes on.
“It's actually amazing how oblivious you are.”
“We're naked,” said Harry.
“Yes,” confirmed Malfoy. “I'd been standing here for at least a minute looking at you naked before you yourself realised you were naked.”
Harry blushed; at the fact that Malfoy had been staring at his naked body and in embarrassment at his lack of self awareness, both.
“So, this is what happened?” Harry asked without looking at Malfoy.
“Yes, this would definitely make Pansy cackle with glee. And it would explain why they had to send the students home. I'd like to know exactly how it happened, though.”
“Harry?” The voice came drifting in from the great hall, much more subdued and wary than its normal loud and boisterous self.
“Ron?” called Harry in reply. Only now did his hands instinctively fly up to cover himself.
From the open door to the great hall, Ron's large ginger head appeared. He obviously spotted Harry and Malfoy standing by the front doors, because he instantly screwed his eyes shut.
“Don't be such a prude, Weasley. We'll never get this fixed if we hide behind doors with our eyes closed.” Malfoy's voice was almost teasing.
Ron frowned, but his eyes remained closed. “Not until your-it's- Not until you cover up!”
Harry looked around at Malfoy and saw that he had made no move to cover himself. He told himself unconvincingly that it was the shock that made him look a little longer than was necessary. Malfoy didn't seem to notice, as his attention was still on Ron.
“Why? You must have seen a penis before, because I'm assuming you've got one of your own.”
“I don't want to see yours!”
“Then don't look at it. My face doesn't disappear when the rest of my body is naked.”
“It's no use, Draco,” came a voice from across the hall.
Parkinson was coming down the stairs, just as naked as the rest of them, and just as uncaring of that fact as Malfoy seemed to be. Harry looked away quickly and noticed that Ron had turned his head in Parkinson's direction. And opened his eyes.
“He's as prudish as they come. I could understand a fear of breasts, but growing up with a dozen brothers you'd think he'd be used to a few cocks swinging about.”
“Pansy, you're a delight, as always.”
In response to the sarcasm, Parkinson smiled, walked over to Malfoy and embraced him. Malfoy hugged her back, without a trace of embarrassment. When they parted, Harry couldn't help but notice what else there wasn't a trace of. Embarrassed but pleased, Harry looked away.
"What happened?" Harry asked of no one in particular.
Parkinson sighed. "Shall we sit down in the great hall and talk?"
"Wait!" cried Ron as his head disappeared from around the door. Harry could hear Ron's bare feet slapping again the stone floor as he ran.
With all three of them shaking their heads, Harry, Malfoy and Parkinson walked together into the great hall. Although his companions remained steadfastly naked and unashamed, Harry kept himself cupped in both palms.
When they entered the great hall, Ron was already sitting at the near end of the closest house table, which was set with four goblets and two water jugs. When Ron saw them, he looked desperately at Harry and unsubtly patted the bench next to him. Taking the obvious hint, Harry sat down beside Ron. Malfoy and Parkinson took seats opposite.
Ron coughed a little uncomfortably. "Thanks for coming, Harry." At that, Parkinson coughed pointedly. Ron looked up at her, then from her to Malfoy. "And you."
"It's so nice to feel wanted," said Malfoy, who then turned directly to Parkinson. "What happened?"
“I don't know. Everything was fine last night.” She wrinkled her forehead in thought. “I woke up naked this morning, but that didn't concern me, considering I sleep naked anyway.”
As she spoke, Harry heard Ron utter a quiet groan. Malfoy nodded along as though Parkinson's words were not news to him. Harry wondered if Malfoy had known Parkinson slept naked, and if so how he knew. Then Harry thought about Malfoy sleeping naked, and had to stifle a quiet groan of his own.
“So when did you realise something was wrong?” asked Malfoy.
“When I went to get dressed.”
“Your clothes had vanished?” Harry prompted.
“No,” said Parkinson. “But the second I opened my wardrobe all my clothes jumped off their hangers and ran away.”
“Literally?”
Parkinson nodded, but Harry was sceptical. It must have shown on his face, because Parkinson smiled at him and said, “Try it.”
“Try what?”
“Conjure yourself some clothes and see what happens to them.” She was out and out smirking now.
Nervously, Harry lifted his wand. He concentrated on what he wanted and then whispered, “Exsisto vestis,” as he moved his wand. On the table in front of him appeared a pair of red and grey striped boxer shorts. He looked up at Parkinson, feeling smug, but she still wore her smirk. Harry reached out for the boxers, already imagining the warmth and support they would offer his balls, but before his hand could grasp them, the boxer shorts leapt off of the table and scurried out of the hall. Aghast, Harry simply watched them go.
“Told you,” said Parkinson. When Harry turned to look at her, she had folded her arms smugly on the table, causing her breasts to be amplified by the position. Gulping in something close to terror, Harry hastily grabbed the two water jugs and moved them to block his view.
Malfoy looked at Harry, eyes sparkling, and laughed. It made Harry's stomach flip. He wasn't sure if Malfoy was laughing at his runaway boxers or Parkinson's jugs, but either way, Harry knew it was at his expense, and quickly tried to get back on track.
“What about you, Ron?” Harry asked.
“What about me?” Ron replied, tearing his eyes up and away to look at Harry.
“What happened? How did you know something was wrong?”
“Same.” Ron motioned a thumb towards Parkinson.
“You woke up naked or your clothes ran away?” enquired Malfoy.
“Both,” Ron blurted quickly, then, slower, “Except I, er, don't usually wake up naked.”
Parkinson's smirk was back. “I'm betting check flannel pyjamas.”
Ron said nothing, but went slightly red and avoided looking at Parkinson (in the eyes or breasts).
“Anyway,” Parkinson began, “I strongly suspect whatever happened, it's only affecting the inside of the castle. Professor Sprout is hiding out in the greenhouses, because her nightdress reappeared as soon as she ventured outside.”
“That's right!” cried Ron, obviously happy to have something else to talk about other than his choice of pyjamas. “Hagrid wasn't affected at all, and-” He gulped. “-and we begged him not to come inside the castle. He's holed up in his hut.”
Harry felt a collective shudder pass around the four of them as it seemed they were all imagining Hagrid naked.
“Okay,” said Malfoy, seemingly the first to recover, “I suggest we split up.” He looked across the table at Harry and Ron. “As Weasley seems the most uncomfortable with his own body, and as Potter loves-action-hates-research, you two should walk the perimeter of the castle. See if the theory holds up throughout the entire perimeter and attempt to sense the border of magic, maybe get a sense of what we're dealing with.”
At his words, Harry smiled a little at the fact that Malfoy seemed to know him so well; that was exactly what Harry had been going to suggest. If Malfoy said he and Parkinson were going to head to the library-
“Pansy and I will head to the library and get started on research. We'll try to narrow down the area of magic we're looking at, perhaps start making a short list of possible spells or miscast spells that could have this effect.”
Malfoy looked at his three companions expectantly, perhaps waiting for an objection. Other than an awkward cough from Ron and two smiles from Harry and Parkinson, he got nothing.
“Okay then,” said Malfoy, standing. “Meet in the library in an hour?” Everyone looked at the watches they were no longer wearing. “In about an hour... ish?” corrected Malfoy.
Nods all around and soon Malfoy and Parkinson were off in the direction of the library.
Without speaking, Harry and Ron stood and made their way to the entrance hall and through the front doors of the castle. As soon as their clothes re-materialised-Ron in the exact pyjamas Parkinson had described-they began a cheerful meander around the castle.
“It's nice to feel material against my skin again,” said Ron, smiling. “It's only been a few hours, but you soon miss it.”
“Not to mention the warmth,” added Harry, practically snuggling down into his jumper as he remembered the chill he'd experienced when he'd stepped into the castle.
Staying as close to the castle's walls as he could, so as to test the boundary of the spell as well as possible, Harry casually reached out with his magic to feel for spells, as he'd been training to do just a few weeks ago with the Aurors.
“So, Ron, how've your first couple of weeks at Hogwarts been?”
Ron's eyes lit up. “Brilliant! I love teaching Quidditch. Seeing newbies get on to a broom for the first time, even if they're as rubbish as Hermione was, is great; the happiness on their faces is more magic than the spells they learn in the classroom.” He paused to draw breath. “Quidditch season hasn't started yet, but I'm really looking forward to helping all the teams train and refereeing the matches. I hope the Gryffindor team are good, I'll be mortified if I have to start inventing reasons to penalise Slytherin just to help them out.”
Harry laughed. It was great to see the obvious joy Ron was getting from his new job. When he'd dropped out of Auror training after a couple of months, Harry had been worried Ron wouldn't find something to do with his life that he truly enjoyed. Now, Harry knew he didn't have to worry.
“Speaking of Hermione,” said Harry, “she was asking after you the other day.”
Ron's smile was small, but it was there. “Tell her I'm fine. We'll hang out as friends like we used to, it's just...”
“Too soon?” Harry prompted. Ron nodded. To change the subject, Harry asked, “What's the deal with Parkinson? What does she do?”
“She works with Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing.” Ron seemed to perk up, and then he frowned. “I'm not sure exactly what her title is, but I heard she's here to do some sort of Healer training because no where else would take her.”
Harry mirrored Ron's expression and they both fell silent.
A few minutes later, Ron spoke up. “How's Auror training?”
“Really good!” Harry replied. “Just the other day we were learning how to track someone from the moment they Apparate. Malfoy led me on a merry chase across the roofs of London.” He laughed, remembering how the wind messed up Malfoy's hair on top of the Gherkin as he'd taunted Harry before Apparating away to the roof of Buckingham Palace.
“Do you often work with Malfoy?” Ron's question interrupted Harry's memories.
“Well, yeah, in groups sometimes, but we often pair up alone.” Harry coughed, feeling as though he was hiding something from his friend, even though his words were perfectly honest. “It's, well... you know.”
“Yeah,” replied Ron, “I know.” Except he didn't. “Is it-I mean, do you trust him?”
“Do I trust Malfoy?” Harry had never really thought about it before, but now that he was... “Yeah, I do.” He shrugged, not feeling his answer needed any explanation.
Ron didn't respond.
They spent roughly the next 40 minutes slowly walking around the castle, all the while remaining fully clothed.
As they approached the front of the castle once more, a thought occurred to Harry. He called to Ron and stepped back from the castle wall, scanning the windows to approximate where they were. Once he'd figured it out, Harry made his way more quickly a dozen or so windows closer to the castle's doors. Peering into the windows one at a time, Harry finally spotted Malfoy and Parkinson sitting at a table in the library, reading through books and making notes.
“Ron, give me a leg up.”
Ron obliged and Harry, leaning on the window from the waist up, began rapping at the glass. It only took a few seconds before Malfoy turned his head, frowned and made his way over. Harry bit his lip and tried very hard not to blush or stare or giggle, as Malfoy's clearly viewable penis rocked from side to side against his upper thighs as he walked towards the window-towards Harry.
At the window, Ron let Harry down as Malfoy opened it wide and leaned his upper body out.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“There was no change at all around the perimeter,” answered Harry, “but I was thinking-”
“Don't hurt yourself,” said Malfoy quietly, though he listened carefully.
“-could the source of the spell be the front doors themselves? Could walking in and out through that spot be the trigger?”
Malfoy's eyes widened in realisation of what Harry was trying to say and Malfoy took over. “Would entering the castle another way-”
“For example, through a window.” Harry motioned to the window as he spoke.
“-leave a person fully clothed?” finished Malfoy. “Only one way to find out, Potter.” He reached his arms down towards Harry and opened and closed his hands in an impatient gesture.
Grasping Malfoy's arms to keep him steady, Harry once again got a leg up from Ron and attempted to climb into the library. Just as Harry's was about the step through the window, a breeze passed by and Ron sneezed, leaning forward slightly as he did so. The motion caused Harry's leg to drop slightly, but his body kept moving forward, which resulted in his foot catching on the window frame. He pitched forward, decidedly not shrieking (except in his head), and fell into Malfoy, sending them both to the floor.
Reassuringly comfortable, but rather embarrassed by the position he and Malfoy had landed in, Harry refused to remove his face from the crook of Malfoy's neck for some seconds. He was laying on top of Malfoy, with his knees either side of Malfoy's upper thighs. Harry realised he was naked when Malfoy's hands gently squeezed his hips and Harry felt his warm squishy bits give a twitch against Malfoy's warm squishy bits.
As if hit with a lightning spell, Harry jumped up and away from Malfoy. Deciding to over play his embarrassment in case Ron or Parkinson had been watching, Harry made a show of covering himself up by grabbing a book off of the nearest bookshelf and hurriedly thrusting it in front of his penis. He regretted it slightly as his growing member protested in pain when the book came down a little too hard.
“Well, I'm naked,” stated Harry.
“At least you figured that out quicker than last time,” quipped Malfoy with a quick wink. As he stood up he rubbed his lower back, but smiled.
Harry was definitely starting to blush, so he charged on quickly.
“Which proves that the spell is affecting the entire castle, not just the main entrance. Which means we're dealing with a large, wide-spread and powerful spell.”
“Charm,” said a voice that floated over from further in the room.
“Sorry, what?” asked Harry, tipping his head to see past Malfoy at Parkinson, still sitting and reading the books in front of her.
“We've narrowed the options down a little, Potter,” said Malfoy as he turned and walked back to his place at the table.
“We're dealing with a large, wide-spread and powerful charm,” explained Parkinson.
Making his way toward the piles of books between Malfoy and Parkinson, Harry waited for more information.
“The fact the the clothes materialise and de-materialise, not to mention literally run off when conjured, all indicate a charm of some kind.” Malfoy looked up from his book and at Harry as he spoke. “That we now know it is definitely isolated to the castle, and the entire castle at that-not simply the entrance-tells us the charm has altered the properties of the castle itself, rather than of those inhabiting it.”
“All facts that will help us narrow the specific spell down,” added Parkinson, flipping a page in her book without looking up.
“And help us fix it, yes?” asked Harry, trying not to sound desperate.
Still looking at Harry, Malfoy licked his lips, smiled and nodded before turning back to his book. The simple gesture did what it was expected to, and Harry pressed his own book a little harder to his now a little harder problem.
Harry was beginning to feel a little less awkward, but a little more useless when Ron came running unabashedly through the library doors.
Panting, he said, “I'm so sorry, Harry! Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
Finding it difficult to speak through his renewed embarrassment, Harry simply nodded and shook his head appropriately.
“He's fine, Weasley, stop worrying,” said Malfoy, his eyes trained on his book.
“Yeah,” said Parkinson, taking full advantage of Ron's sudden lack of decorum to get an eyeful. “He had a soft landing.” At that both Parkinson and Ron turned to look at Harry. The first with a wink, the second with a questioning frown. Tellingly, Harry's gaze fell to Malfoy, who still steadfastly refused to look up from his book.
Before Harry had a chance to blush all the way down to his toes, Malfoy coughed to get their attention.
“What I keep wondering is why?” said Malfoy once they were all listening. “Why would someone want to make everyone in Hogwarts naked? Is it a prank? Someone's sick and twisted way to get their rocks off without having to buy an adult magazine? Or something more sinister that didn't go quite as planned?” He pursed his lips. “I just don't see a realistic motivation.”
“Oh!” said Harry, remembering Malfoy's instructions from earlier and wanting to be useful. “I kept my magic out for unfamiliar spells, but couldn't feel anything new around the outside of the castle's walls.”
“Nothing?” Malfoy asked, frowning deeply. “Nothing at all?”
“Zippo, zilch, nada, bloody bugger all. From the outside, the castle seems perfectly fine.”
Malfoy's frown did not disappear. Looking at Harry he said, “We need to speak to Headmistress McGonagall.”
“We do?”
“We do.” Malfoy turned to Parkinson. “Is she still at Hogwarts?”
“Of course she is,” Parkinson replied immediately. “She'll be in her office. The password is 'Oddment'.”
Malfoy nodded once and headed straight for the library doors. Harry dashed after him, trying adamantly to ignore the feeling of a breeze against his balls as he ran.
Once they were up the first flight of steps and out of ear shot of the library, Harry looked at Malfoy, questions forming on his lips. Instead of asking them, he saw how worried Malfoy looked. His eyebrows were drawn together tightly in a frown and he was nibbling on his lower lip. Occasionally the corners of his mouth would turn down and his frown would ease a little, but seem no less worrying. Harry had been working alongside Malfoy for almost a year, and had recently got close enough to him to read him very well indeed. Malfoy was doing some serious thinking and debating with himself. Harry also knew enough to be worried.
They made it to the Headmistress' office without speaking. Standing in front of the stone gargoyle, Harry felt his nerves plateau; his professor and head of house for years was naked in there. Before Harry had time to come to terms with that, Malfoy had said the password and the gargoyle had stepped out of the way.
Walking up the steps at a steady pace without rushing, Harry and Malfoy reached the door to McGonagall's office and stood staring at it.
“Knock then,” said Malfoy without looking at Harry.
“What? Why me? You're the one that said we had to come see McGonagall. You knock.”
“You're the one she'll be happy to see. You knock.”
Puzzled at Malfoy's sudden reluctance, Harry turned to see Malfoy using both hands to cover his genitals for the first time since they had been on display. He also seemed to be trying to cover as much of his torso as his slimline arms would allow. While he looked, Harry also noticed Malfoy shift his weight from one leg to the other. Malfoy was-
“-Nervous,” Harry finished the thought out loud. “You're nervous.”
“What? No I'm not. Shut up.”
And as if the accusation had prompted him into action, Malfoy lifted one arm and reached out to the door. Before his knuckles could make contact with the wood, however, a voice sounded from the other side.
“You'll catch your death out there in the corridor; do come in.” She already sounded exacerbated and they weren't even in her office yet. Harry thought it might be a record.
Both adamantly not looking at each other or straight ahead-in fact both looking somewhere off to the left or right of the ceiling-Harry and Malfoy made their way into McGonagall's office. Harry made it about three steps before stubbing his toe and wincing as his eyes began to water, but not letting go of his goods. From the corner of his eye Harry could see that Malfoy had made it a little further, finally walking into a chair and hissing in pain.
“Really, this is ridiculous.” Dressed or not, the ratio of McGonagall's voice sounded just as much fed up to amused as it always had done. “We are all adults here, or so I was led to believe. Please use your eyes to find the chairs in front of my desk and sit yourselves down in them.”
Now sharing guilty glances with each other, but still refusing to look directly at McGonagall, Harry and Malfoy quickly located the chairs. While Malfoy sat swiftly and crossed his legs to keep himself covered and his hands free, Harry only panicked. With McGonagall only a desk width away and seated, she would surely have an unimpeded view of Harry's crotch. In his suddenly doubled and befuddled embarrassment, all Harry could think about was covering himself more thoroughly. He grabbed the closest thing he could see-the top sheet of a sheaf of parchment-and ensconced his manhood within it before sitting down.
They were all silent for a few seconds, before the atmosphere was broken by subdued laughter coming from Malfoy's direction. When Harry looked over at him, Malfoy simply covered his mouth with a hand and shook his head. Forgetting his wariness to do so, Harry turned to McGonagall to shed some light on what was so funny. Far from seeming amused, her eyes were wide in shock and aimed directly at the last place Harry wanted them to be: his penis.
Quickly bowing his head to look at himself, Harry instantly saw the source of amusement and shock. The parchment he had wrapped around himself was being held upright by his body, and for all intents and purposes, looked like an erection.
Before he had a chance to do anything about the situation, McGonagall seemed to overcome her shock.
“Mr Potter, that is one of my third years' Transfiguration homework, and I will be needing it back.”
Turning redder than he thought physically possible, Harry hurriedly removed the parchment, crossed his legs, and deposited the homework back onto the pile he had removed it from. It remained curled into a roll, but no one moved to flatten it out.
Ever the more mature one, McGonagall quickly moved on.
“How can I help you, gentlemen?”
Malfoy cleared his throat, with a hint of a smile still playing on his lips, ready to speak. Although he had no idea why Malfoy had wanted to see McGonagall, Harry got there first with a question of his own.
“Why didn't you want the Aurors involved?” he blurted. He could feel Malfoy frowning at him, but did not turn to look.
“I have two Aurors sitting in my office right now,” replied McGonagall coolly.
“Two trainee Aurors, who you chose specifically and who were clearly asked to keep the Auror department out of the loop. Why?”
“It is quite a good question,” commented Malfoy, and Harry felt buoyed by the show of support.
McGonagall sighed. “Because we-I-the school and everyone involved do not want this embarrassing incident escaping the confines of the castle.”
“You're afraid the magic will spread? Start affecting Hogsmeade and-” Harry began to worry, but before he could get too far, Malfoy interrupted.
“I think the Headmistress is referring to the spread of information.” Malfoy looked at McGonagall for confirmation and received a nod.
“If word got out what has happened here, if the parents find out, if The Daily Prophet had even a hint of-” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I will not risk it, not for something so ridiculous.” She motioned with both hands to her own body, and despite himself, Harry glanced down. He was worryingly disappointed and hugely relieved when all he saw was a block of flesh-coloured and undefined body.
“I can't see you!” he cried out, happily.
McGonagall looked down at herself, then back up with a roll of her eyes. “A simple blurring spell, Mr Potter. Which was why your clumsy entrance was entirely useless.”
Through his renewed embarrassment, Harry smiled.
Unaffected by Harry's distraction, Malfoy continued questioning McGonagall. “So why us? You don't trust the Auror department to not shoot their mouths off, but you trust us?”
“Essentially, yes.” McGonagall looked at Malfoy steadily, waiting.
Seemingly satisfied, Malfoy shrugged. “Okay.”
Harry, however, was not satisfied. “What about the students? You sent them home, surely they'll be telling their parents all about what happened right now?”
At this, McGonagall smiled slyly. “They can't.” When both Harry and Malfoy simply stared at her, she expounded. “We sent them home through the Floo, but not before I made a slight alteration. I used a spell similar to the Fidelius Charm, making it impossible for the students to talk about what has happened with anyone who does not already know.”
“That's... quite brilliant,” said Malfoy.
“That's possible?” questioned Harry.
“It's magic, Mr Potter; almost anything is possible.”
Smiling, Harry turned to Malfoy to share in the amazement, but found that Malfoy's face had returned to its frowned, worried expression, and he knew he was about to find out why Malfoy had really wanted to speak to the Headmistress.
“Headmistress McGonagall, we've narrowed down the types of spells that could be the cause of the nudity-” Malfoy spoke to McGonagall like he hadn't been embarrassed to be standing naked and knocking on her door only ten minutes ago. “-Pansy and Weasley are continuing to research as we speak.”
“I'm sure you didn't pluck up the courage to enter my office in your current state just to keep me up to date on your research progress, Mr Malfoy.” Although her words were light-hearted, McGonagall's tone was serious.
“No.” Malfoy drew a deep breath, as if about to give bad news, and Harry was still none the wiser. “After a perimeter check of the castle's exterior, Potter found no trace of a magical disturbance.” Malfoy turned to look at him, face open, expectant.
“That's right,” said Harry, unsure what Malfoy wanted him to say. “From outside, the castle appears perfectly normal. No unexpected magic present.” He shrugged.
“And that means-” Malfoy began, turning his head back to face McGonagall.
“That the source of the magic originated inside the castle.” McGonagall paled as she spoke.
Malfoy nodded, and then nobody said anything.
Feeling a little foolish, but knowing he wouldn't be able to help if he didn't know what the hell was going on, Harry broke the silence to ask, “And what does that mean?”
Biting his lip before he spoke, Malfoy answered. “It means someone inside the castle cast the spell.”
“So, a student playing a prank then?” asked Harry, not understanding why the other two seemed so glum.
“Mr Potter,” McGonagall looked strained, as if what she was about to say was causing her great pain. “Magic of this magnitude, to affect the entire castle, everyone in it and over a sustained period of time... No student has the power to cast a spell like that.”
And then Harry realised what was being implied. “You think an adult did this? One of the staff?”
“If everything you and Mr Malfoy have told me is true, then that is the only conclusion.”
“The question is who.” Malfoy spoke quietly, and looked uneasily across the desk at McGonagall.
“I will leave you two in charge of investigating that along with continuing to research the spell. Do whatever you need to, I will let the staff know you may wish to speak with them.” She sighed. “Just let me know as soon as possible.”
Malfoy nodded and stood. Harry followed suit, still unbelieving. They left the office with much more grace than they had entered, and neither of them bothered to cover themselves up as they made their way back through the corridors towards the library.
“I can't believe it.” Harry barely registered the fact that he had spoken.
“Can't believe what?” Malfoy asked.
“That someone on the Hogwarts staff would do this.”
“They may not have meant to.” At Harry's snort of disbelief, Malfoy continued. “No, listen. What on Earth would anyone have to gain from making everyone-themselves included-naked?”
“An eyeful?” Harry suggested with a wry and cynical smile (and maybe a glance at Malfoy's cock).
Malfoy seemed to ponder this answer for a moment, before continuing. “No, it's not as simple as that. I think someone was up to something, but I don't think this was the intended result.”
“Then why didn't they just reverse the spell?”
“Maybe they don't know how.”
“This is stupid. Who would be reckless enough to attempt to cast a spell anything like this one if they didn't know what they were doing?” Harry was purposely dismissing the idea that someone at Hogwarts had caused the nudity, and he knew it. He wasn't sure why, but he did know he could come up with another explanation.
“Perhaps,” said Malfoy, slowly, “someone who has had some, but not enough, training in casting strong, far-reaching magic. Someone who has had some, but not enough, training in casting new and difficult spells without practise. Someone who has had some-”
“Stop.” Harry whirled to face Malfoy. They stood face to face, one floor above the library. He didn't need Malfoy to continue listing modules they had taken in their first few months of Auror training. He knew what Malfoy was suggesting. Harry shook his head but didn't speak.
“Potter, look at the facts.” Malfoy spoke quietly, understandingly, but firmly. “Why else would he have been so vague in his letter to you? Why else would he be so overly embarrassed about his nudity? Why else would he have been so brief and dismissive with his answers to our initial questions?”
“No.” Harry's head continued to shake, even in the face of Malfoy's logic.
“Harry,” Malfoy practically whispered, and Harry's head stilled. “I don't think this-” He motioned to their naked bodies and Harry looked at them both but did not blush. “-was his intention, but we need to find out what was, so we can find out what went wrong and reverse it.”
Looking Malfoy in the eye, Harry thought back over his own words from moments ago: Who would be reckless enough to attempt to cast a spell anything like this one if they didn't know what they were doing? He thought about his best friend, and how adequately those words could describe him, given viable motivation. He thought about the sympathy and understanding he saw in the grey eyes looking back at him, waiting. He thought about how much he trusted them.
“Okay,” Harry whispered back.
Malfoy nodded and placed one hand on Harry's bare shoulder, squeezed and let go. The touch made a warm shock travel though Harry's body. He expected it to go straight to his cock, but instead the feeling settled somewhere in his torso, between his heart and his stomach.
They made their way to the library in silence. Harry's silence was contemplation of the conversation that was about to happen, and Malfoy's silence felt tense with apprehension.
Voices could be heard through the open library door before they reached the room.
“...help, you know.”
“Nah, Harry and Malfoy have it covered.”
“I'm sure they do, but that doesn't mean you can't try. I'm sure they'd appreciate your effort.”
“I quit the Aurors for a reason, you know.”
“A reason you refuse to talk about, so don't try to use it as an excuse.”
“An excuse for what?”
“Doing fuck all.”
“I'm not doing fuck all!”
“That certainly does not count as doing something.”
“But-”
As Harry and Malfoy entered the room, Ron fell silent and turned to look at them. The fuck all he seemed to be doing was... knitting. Harry frowned and looked closer, then wished he hadn't. It seemed Ron was attempting to knit himself some modesty, and had got as far as a willy warmer. Harry hastily looked up at Ron's face.
“Really, Weasley?” said Malfoy, who didn't seem in the least bit uncomfortable.
Ron glanced down at his covered manhood, then back up at Malfoy. “What? If you'd grown up with my mum, you'd know how to knit, too! And it hasn't run away yet!” He seemed inordinately proud of himself.
“Yes, and congratulations, but did you have to use green wool? It clashes garishly with your ginger pubic hair.” Malfoy seemed genuinely offended by Ron lack of colour coordination. Harry groaned; he really didn't want to listen to Malfoy talking about Ron's pubes.
Looking perplexed, Ron turned to Parkinson, who was flicking idly through the book in front of her, seemingly ignoring the conversation.
“She conjured it,” said Ron, pointing at Parkinson, which was enough to for Parkinson's cool façade to crumble, and she began to laugh.
“It looks adorable!” she announced, abandoning her book and gazing fondly at Ron's crotch.
All three men groaned, to varying degrees.
“Don't use the word 'adorable' to talk about my penis!”
“But it looks so snugly and-”
Parkinson's description was cut short by Malfoy clearing his throat loudly, obviously trying to get everyone's attention.
“We've spoken to Headmistress McGonagall and explained what we've discovered so far.”
“Which is what exactly?” asked Parkinson, clearly eager to find out what was going on.
“That the spell was cast from inside the castle,” said Harry. He paused. “By a member of the faculty.”
“One of the teachers did this?” Parkinson sounded as impressed as she did shocked.
Ron, Harry couldn't help but notice, remained silent.
“We believe,” Malfoy continued, “that the nudity was not the intended result. It is likely the spell was miscast, but we need to know what the caster's true intention was in order to reverse the spell.”
Nobody spoke for a few seconds. Harry's watched Ron, whose eyes were on Parkinson, his lips pursed, before he turned to look out of the library window. Suddenly Harry knew Ron wasn't going to say anything with some prompting.
Abandoning subtlety and tact, Harry blurted, “What the fuck were you trying to do, Ron?”
Ron's head snapped back to look at Harry. “How did you know?”
“I know you. I know there'll have been some deep-seated meaningful reason hidden behind a stupid ploy that just went wrong. I'm surprised I-that I didn't see it sooner. You've been too embarrassed, Ron. Because you didn't mean for this to happen, but you did mean for something to happen.” He too a deep breath, calming himself down. “What were you trying to do, Ron?”
Ron closed his eyes and blushed. “It's stupid-” He shook his head. “It's not stupid, it's...” He opened his eyes and looked at Parkinson. “It's you.”
“What? What do you mean? If you think I-”
“No.” Ron interrupted Parkinson's defence. “After years of dislike-hatred-and distrust. After, after the war. We both end up working at Hogwarts. I bring kids to the Hospital Wing with small and large injuries every other day. Hell, I'm in there with an injury myself at least once a week. We can't avoid each other. And it was awkward; avoiding each other's eye, barely talking. I... I needed to know I could trust you-that we could trust each other.”
Parkinson opened her mouth to speak and looked on the verge of tears. Whether those were tears of fury or understanding, they didn't find out. Malfoy interrupted before she could speak.
“What was the spell?”
Ron heaved a sigh, tore his gaze away from Parkinson and started shuffling through the pile of books on the table. He quickly located the one he was after.
“It was a spell about openness. It was supposed to help up speak more openly and honestly to each other,” explained Ron as he turned pages in the book. “Here.” He turned the book to Harry and Malfoy once he'd found the right page.
Harry took the book and could feel the warmth of Malfoy as he stood close to him in order to see. It was a page that listed several spells, along with accompanying wand movements, regarding openness. There was a spell to open a door, a spell to break something open and a spell to create an opening. Towards the bottom of the page the essence of the spells changed. Instead of spells to literally open something, the spells were more vague and open to interpretation. One spell, Publicus, stated it would 'open to all; make public'. Harry wondered if this was the spell Ron had cast, but couldn't see how that would specifically relate to making everyone's bodies public. Malfoy must have been reading more quickly, because before he could read the rest of the spells, Malfoy was speaking.
“You cast Patesco.” It wasn't a question.
Ron nodded. “It said it could be used to have things 'be laid open'.”
“Did you read much further than that?”
At Malfoy's question, Harry's eyes scanned down the page and read the entire description of the Patesco spell. As Ron shook his head, looking confused, Harry cringed.
“Patesco,” Harry read, directly from the book, “to be laid open, bare, exposed, to be revealed.”
“Literal translation: naked,” finished Malfoy.
“Oh, fuck.” And with that, Ron let his head fall to the table beside him.
Parkinson, recovered from whatever emotion had gripped her earlier, practically cackled with delight.
Undeterred by their reactions, Malfoy continued calmly. “What you were after was Proloquor.”
Again, Harry scanned the page and, as if he was Malfoy's sidekick, not his partner, he read: “Proloquor, to speak out, declare openly.” Then Harry turned a page in the book and laughed.
“Are you laughing at your best friend's embarrassment and misfortune?” Malfoy looked like he couldn't decide between being appalled or proud.
“No,” said Harry, still with laughter in his voice. “It's just that the next page handily lists the counter spells.”
There was a thud as Ron lifted his head and let it drop back to the table. Harry thought he heard Ron mumble, “For fuck's sake,” but he couldn't be sure over his own chuckle.
Parkinson had stood and now moved around the table to Ron. She sat beside him, reached out a hand to his shoulder, and seemed to be whispering to him. Harry wondered what exactly the openness Ron had craved was in regard to, but saw he must have achieved it anyway.
“I hope McGonagall's not too harsh on him,” said Malfoy quietly, breaking Harry's thoughts.
“Really? Why?” asked Harry.
Malfoy shrugged. Harry smiled.
“Well?” said Malfoy.
“Well what?” Harry turned to Malfoy and frowned.
“The counter spell is right there. Aren't you going to fix the mess your friend made?”
Harry nodded slowly, keeping his eyes low and allowing himself another glance at what he'd enjoyed spending the day looking at. He knew he'd been looking and nodding for too long when Malfoy's hand blocked the view of his penis.
“You've had your eyeful, now turn around so I can have mine. Then cast the spell.”
Grinning, Harry did as he was told.