Sex Magic DRARRY

Chapter 14

By the end of the next day, Harry was fully convinced that Voldemort had complete control of the Daily Prophet, and for the past six years had been using it to slowly wear down his sanity like a quill tip.

The story had finally leaked onto the headlines. Confidentiality contracts were worth bugger all against the wagging tongues of vindictive Slytherins.

"Boy Hero Exposed In Gay Tryst!"

This reporter has it on good authority that Harry Potter, who survived the Dark Lord's killing curse at the tender age of infancy, and who more recently made public his personal vendetta against You-Know-Who for the brutal murders of his beloved parents, has been involved in a scandalous love affair with another male student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Even more shocking, Potter's lover has recently disappeared. The boy, Draco Malfoy, son of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy (the latter of whom was accused of being a supporter of You-Know-Who fifteen years ago) did not return to his dormitory late yesterday (Monday) evening. As of yet, Hogwarts and Ministry officials have been close-lipped about the issue, but unidentified sources have revealed to the Prophet that Potter himself is under suspicion...

Harry thumped his head against his headboard. 

The article, of course, had prompted the swift and glorious descent of Narcissa Malfoy upon Hogwarts. Harry would gladly endure the Cruciatus curse before ever again being on the receiving end of her wrath. He thought even McGonagall had appeared frazzled during their meeting earlier in the Headmaster's office. He might have relished her discomfort, if he hadn't been under attack at the time. He hadn't forgotten about her involvement in his situation with Malfoy.

Hearing halting footsteps outside of the door to the Seventh Year boys' dorm, Harry groaned. He didn't know if he could handle any more well-intentioned sympathy speeches from his roommates. Therefore, he was surprised when he heard a female voice through the door.

"Harry?" Hermione called tentatively.

Screwing up his eyes, Harry gave his head another good thump before answering. "Yeah, come in."

Hermione slipped into the room with the universal awkwardness of someone entering a messy, emotional situation somewhat against their will. Leaning against the door, she pressed her palms flat against the wood and it shut with a muted thud. Harry watched as she took a deep breath, drew her shoulders back, and pushed away from the door. She took a few steps toward where he was sitting on his bed. She was the first to speak, and he was sure she resented it.

"Do you want to talk?" she asked.

"All I've done today is talk," he responded bitterly.

Hermione nodded and looked away. Harry plucked at a loose string on his pillowcase.

"Look Harry, I don't know what happened, and if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. It's none of my business." She paused, her mouth moving silently once before she continued. "But, from what you've told me, it seemed that things were going... well. And then Neville said-"

"Yes," Harry cut in acidly, "Neville said."

Hermione had never been slow and, after a second or two, realization replaced the blank stare she'd been giving him. 

"Oh," she said softly. "I see. I thought I heard the portrait close. I wondered..."

Harry sighed, the tension leaving his body and he slumped forward. "It wasn't just you."

He went on to tell her about Dumbledore, McGonagall and Mason. She gasped when she heard how deep the plot to force him together with Malfoy went. After several minutes of contemplative silence, during which Harry could see the wheels of thought turning inside of her head as easily as her teeth gnawing her lip, she finally looked up at him.