Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Fu Inle ❯ ch. 8 ( Chapter 8 )

Fu Inle: Chapter 8.

I said that I would try to have this up before Monday….

Oh well. I hope you enjoy, and that all my readers aren't too mad at me. Oh! And let it be known that I beta my own stuff most of the time. That said, there may be a mistake here or there. If you see any, let me know!

As you may have heard, I don't own anything but my twisted theories and the scars the plot bunny attacks have left. That, and there's roughly half a billion warnings for this. Those things said, enjoy and please review!

 

 

Does he want to kill me? If so, why has he tolerated Harry for so long? It's not like he couldn't have killed me quietly while I was already ON my deathbed… I must have sounded like an idiot earlier…

 

He grips the slender piece of hawthorn in a sweaty palm.

 

I can do this. I have to, right?

 

Moody throws a simple jinx, the last thing one would expect from an auror with so much experience under his belt.

 

What is he planning? I have to get this over before he decides to take this seriously.

 

Deflecting the spell, he doesn't have a second to spare before another is sent in its stead. He manages to avoid being hit by a hairsbreadth.

 

Moody's gruff voice laughs, “Not bad, I've seen quite a few worse get hired by the Ministry. But you'll need to impress me if you plan on being a member.”

 

More quick spells from the old, grizzled auror.

 

One does not miss. A sensation not entirely unlike that of Cruciatus strikes the teenage blond. Before Draco can even catch his breath, he's hit again. Refusing to back down, he glares at Moody.

 

“That all you got?” His usual Malfoy pride acting up again.

 

He finally retaliates. Flashes of color and crackling magic fill the dead air. Moody avoids it all without breaking a sweat.

 

I guess I have to show him I mean business.

 

Draco sends his father's spell, the same one that bound him. Only, his refuses to leave him out of it. Moody is frozen by the strange, paralytic feeling. The feeling of metal cuts into Draco's wrists, but he won't release it until Moody surrenders. The golden trio sits and stares, waiting for anything to happen.

Moody laughs again.

 

If he knew how much he was like my father, he'd kill himself.

 

“I forgot that you were the sly one. Definitely meant to be a snake. You win, fair and square. We're headed out later, I expect you to be prepared.”

 

With a nod, Draco releases the spell. His skin burns where the spell met him, but he has won.

 

Moody goes up the creaking stairs, followed by two thirds of the audience.

 

Draco goes to the stone wall, resting his forehead against the cool rock. The door shuts at the top of the stairs, and he whispers quietly to himself,”Le bois tortu fait le feu droit.” A small laugh escapes, interrupting that chain of thought. “I guess that's true, sometimes.”

 

The warm body against his back makes him tense as Harry breathes on his neck.

“What's that mean? Is it French?”

 

He pushes the curious Gryffindor away before even thinking of a reply.

 

“It doesn't matter, it's nothing.” He shakes his head, keeping the brunette an arms length away.

 

Unfortunately, this draws attention to the few red drops on the pale wrists. Harry grabs Draco's arm and stares.

 

“What's this from?”

 

Of course, the usual reply of, “Nothing!” is all that Harry gets.

 

“You're bleeding! I know it's definitely not ` Nothing!'”

 

Draco yanks back his hand and quickly heals the scratches. “Nothing. Just an unfortunate side effect for me. I'm not supposed to use his spell, that's all.”

 

“What are you talking about? What spell? What did you use against Moody?”

 

“Doesn't matter. Just something my father did. Don't worry about it.”

 

“Why? What are you hiding?”

 

“Back off.” He pushes Harry away, harder than before.

 

“Fine. I just thought you'd trust me more by now. I mean, you kissed me.”

 

“We've been over this. I'm free to kiss whoever I feel like. Besides, you're a Gryffindor. Why shouldn't I just resent you”? He flops down into a padded armchair.

 

I have to stop this, before he gets his heart broken. Before he tries to control me…

 

 

Harry follows him. “I could have been a Slytherin, too. Don't try to act like you're better than me. It doesn't make a difference what house you're in.”

 

“You are so…oblivious.”

 

“Than enlighten me.”

 

Draco pauses for a moment.

“No.”

 

He pulls Harry onto his lap, kissing him despite his instincts. Harry runs with it, clay in the sculptor's hands.

 

“You're way more persuasive than you should be.” He kisses down Draco's throat. “But I think I'm pretty good competition.”

 

His hands travel downward, stopping to unbutton the simple piece of denim. His lips lock onto Draco's, preventing protest.

 

Let me do this…

 

The zipper is pulled down all too slowly. The seeker's hand goes into the now slightly tight boxers. Fingers come into contact with the hot, throbbing member of Draco Malfoy.

 

Draco makes a halfhearted attempt at pushing Harry away. Breaking the kiss, he shakes his head. “No, we can't…”

 

Harry just smiles. “Trust me.”

 

I'll make you tell me.

 

 

Bwahahahaha. Yes, I'm evil. Deal with it. I'll put more up soon.