Unusual ending 7/??

[herumtreiber]

Title: Unusual ending - chapter 7
Chapter: seven
Author:herumtreiber 
Genre: Slash, time travel, romance, adventure
Disclaimer:  I do not own Harry Potter or related characters. Nor do I make any money from the writing of these stories.
Rating: R
Warnings: Sexual content
Epilogue compliant? No way!
Chapter length: 3207 words
Beta: None.
Summary: Old meets new. Harry walks all over Draco's heart, and when he realizes his mistakes he does the unforgivable so Draco takes him back. Time travel. During HBP, disregards Deathly Hallows - that means everyone's alive, except Sirius, but...

Table of contents
 

Chapter six - part 2

Harry made his way out of the Potions classrooms, not without making sure that his hedgehog was right. He idly wondered what they ate; he saw Hermione walking ahead and almost asked her – she was sure to know that after all – but he distrusted her. She'd treated him so awfully in the other future. Besides, she was hurriedly tugging Ron behind her. Probably they were going to find an empty classroom to snog in, thought Harry disgustedly.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him that it was almost time to eat. Harry ascended the staircase to the ground floor, and Terry Boot bumped into him. The Ravenclaw was reading a book. Bloody intellectual boyfriend-stealer, thought Harry rubbing his shoulder.

He was in the Entrance Hall when he saw Draco ahead; he noticed proudly that the Gryffindor hourglass above Draco seemed to have more gemstones than the others.

He waved to his boyfriend and hurried to meet him.

Harry put his hand on Draco's shoulder and they walked together to the Great Hall.

"Still got that small hippogriff on your bag, Harry?" drawled Draco while he quirked an eyebrow.

Harry huffed and put his bag on the floor; he gingerly reached inside and grabbed Hector. He took out the hedgehog and showed it to Draco, softly touching his quills.

"Draco, meet Hector."

"Don't know what you see in this animal, Harry," muttered Draco unimpressed.

Harry narrowed his eyes, opting not to tell his boyfriend that the prickly animal reminded him of the time when Draco was turned into a ferret – he valued his life after all.

"I always wanted a pet," Harry hefted the hedgehog close to him, "I've Hedwig now, but Hector is small and can go with me anywhere."

"Better watch out, or one of your clumsy Gryffindorks will squash it," said Draco, stooping to pet Hector.

A mocking voice startled the Seekers, "Well, well – Potter and his bitch!"

Draco turned and saw Zacharias Smith, sauntering along with Marcus Flint and Cormac McLaggen. Cormac stopped and leaned against the armor next to the front door while Flint and Smith leered and continued advancing on the Seekers.

"Got tired of riding Potter's cock, Malfoy?" drawled Smith while he made obscene motions with his hands. McLaggen and Flint guffawed loudly.

Harry wanted desperately to whip out his wand and cast nasty spells on these bullies, but he stopped after he grabbed his wand. He knew he should let his boyfriend deal with this. Draco was not a damsel in distress; he was the Slytherin Prince and Dumbledore's spy. Going on and rescuing him – without pausing to think about Draco's feelings – that was something that the old Harry would've done. He had to trust Draco.

Harry put the hedgehog in his bag and then grabbed Draco's shoulder, squeezing it gently - silently lending him his support.

"What, cat got your tongue, Malfoy?" drawled Smith.

"Naw, he's probably wants to wrap it around Potter's cock!" added Flint cruelly and smacked Smith on the shoulder.

Draco flinched and gingerly put his hand on the pocket of his robe, trying to get out his wand.

Harry cringed, thinking that perhaps the damage he'd inflicted the past few months was too deep. After all, Smith and Flint were saying the things Harry had thought – and said to Draco – several times. Draco stepped backwards; shakily pointing behind the bullies, he grimaced and yelled, "The Da… Dark Lord's here!" Without anyone noticing, Draco swished his wand and muttered a spell Narcissa taught him.

The boys turned and saw a shadow flitting across the floor towards them. They yelled in pure fear and tried to run away, but Harry cast a charm to hold them in place.

Draco sauntered towards them, "What? The big bad boys afraid of the Dark Lord?"

He lazily circled Flint, who was jerking in vain, trying to move his feet, "You dream about the Dark Lord entering you - right, Flint?"

He brushed an imaginary piece of lint off Smith's robes, "And you, the little Hufflepuff that could… a complete cowardly arse!"

Draco turned around and walked to Harry, lazily waving his wand and casting a charm that wrote white indelible words on the back of their robes, 'The Dark Lord makes me wet.'

"C'mon, Harry - let's leave these losers behind."

They took several steps towards the Great Hall when Draco turned to the bullies and sniffed disdainfully, "By the way, Smith – you've wet your trousers!"

Draco smirked while Harry guffawed loudly.

As they entered the Great Hall, Harry looked at Draco, admiring his silver hair shining in the afternoon sunlight. This was one of the reasons why he respected Draco – people would be cruel and put him down, but he always managed to stand up again and deliver a sharp retort. He patted Draco on his back. Both snickered, thinking of the bullies they left behind; and they made their way to their tables.

Draco sat down in the middle of the Slytherin table, between Pansy and Blaise. Pansy nudged him, "Got the information about that charm?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, "Course I did, Pans!" His cheeks were rosy because of the anger he felt towards those bullies; apparently the Houses were united in one thing only – in their homophobia.

Blaise sipped from his goblet filled with pumpkin juice, he noticed Draco's color, "Flint still giving you trouble?"

Draco nodded and grabbed his fork, diving into the shepherd's pie.

"I'll write to dad and he'll straighten up his family," said Pansy indignantly.

Draco shook his head while he ate.

"Pass me the flagon, will you Pansy," said Blaise and winked at her.

He refilled his goblet and added meditatively, "I'm sure Draco can deal with Flint – after all, he deals with You-kn… humph!" Blaise glared at Draco, rubbing his ribs where Draco's elbow had poked him sharply.

"Shut up, Blaise, don't go divulging my plans," huffed Draco.

Blaise rolled his eyes and turned to Pansy, "Like he doesn't like to talk about his schemes – remember that time on the train, Pansy - when he told us about his new plans concerning…"

A piece of bread flew up from the table and stuffed itself in Blaise's mouth, effectively shutting him up. Draco nodded gratefully to Pansy, who put her wand back in the pocket of her robes with a satisfied sigh.

---

Harry sat down between Ginny and Neville, glaring at Terry Boot. He looked around and didn't see his ex-friends. He looked to the High Table. He frowned when he noticed Snape approaching it and sitting down; his robes fluttering limply behind him – doubtlessly the poor Hinkypuffs were getting tired.

McGonagall was absent, but someone else was there. Harry waved enthusiastically to Remus, who nodded to him and absently righted a goblet that Tonks had knocked off when she sat down.

"So how are you and Draco getting along?" asked Ginny while she spread her napkin.

"Very well, Ginny, very well."

"I still can't picture you with Malfoy; sometimes I think I'm dreaming," said Neville, carefully cutting his shepherd's pie with the precision he would use on his precious sneezewort.

"To be truthful, Neville, so do I," shuddered Harry, thinking about the time when he lost Draco.

---

Harry plopped down on his bed and looked around carefully; seeing no one, he opened his bag and took out his hedgehog. He petted his head and put him in the cage he'd conjured earlier. Then he put in the vegetables he'd pilfered from dinner, hoping the animal would eat at least one of them.

He opened his trunk and took out the book he stole from the Library – the Invisibility Cloak was pretty handy. The thick tome was titled, 'How wizards wield their wands' by Luz T. Luurve.

He opened his bag and took out his Transfigurations book and his self-inking quill. Harry had been painstakingly researching new positions for him and Draco – after all, he already knew the answers for homework so he had some free time on his hands. He reclined on the pillows and put the book on his lap. He put the tome beside him and he grabbed his quill. He was actually looking forward to doing research for once.

Harry opened the book and frowned when he noticed it looked different. He ruffled through the pages. Harry was incensed when he realized this was not the book where he'd drawn his magical doodles.

He peered at the title; it appeared to be a potions book. He got increasingly mad when he read in the first page, 'Property of the Half-Blood Prince.'

Harry looked around, fuming – just who was this bloody Half-Blood Prince and how come he had his book instead of his Transfigurations textbook! He glared at the tome – all that time spent researching gone to waste.

Bloody Snape must have exchanged the book during potions!

Harry read some of the words scrawled on the pages and he took mental note of a spell apparently designed to use on one's enemies; he snorted delightedly – at least he'd have something to use when people harassed him. He looked intently at the curlicued writing; it seemed very similar to that awful Ravenclaw's - who conveniently bumped into him a while ago.

Harry huffed; he needed reinforcements now. He threw the bloody book aside and sat up. He called out loud, "Dobby!"

There was a pop and the house-elf appeared next to his bed. Dobby was wearing what appeared to be a Gryffindor pillowcase; his bat-like ears quivered with delight when he saw Harry. His small body bobbed up and down and his thin, long nose touched the duvet as he bowed to Harry.

"Master called Dobby!"

Dobby glanced around and rubbed his hands, "What can Dobby do for master?" He frowned and glared at the wall, "That Malfoy boy troubling Master again? Dobby will avenge master!"

Harry put up his hands to stop the elf's tirade and wondered if this was a good idea after all.

"Wait Dobby, Draco is a good friend of mine now!"

Harry leaned forward; he grabbed one of Dobby's floppy ears and whispered to him, "I want you to watch carefully Terry Boot. If he goes near the Room of Requirement – tell me at once!"

Dobby nodded, nervously grabbing the frayed edge of his red and golden garment. "Dobby will do as Master says! He will report to Master when that boy goes to the Room!"

Dobby curtsied, muttering to himself, "Dobby will also watch the evil Malfoy boy and will put him in his place!" Then he disappeared with a popping sound.

Harry stood up and paced around nervously, apparently he'd unleashed the wrath of Dobby. He didn't trust the house-elf to behave; he might decide to throw a cake on Draco's head or something worse. He needed help watching that unruly house-elf. He decided to call other reinforcements.

"Kreacher!"

The old Black house-elf appeared with a seemingly careless popping sound.

He was dressed in a threadbare tea towel wrapped around his middle like a loincloth – he reminded Harry of an old Tarzan movie. Large tufts of white hair grew from his bat-like ears. His wrinkled face grimaced in disgust when he saw Harry.

"… nasty brat calling me in the middle of my deserved nap. Bloody mudblood traitor that is my master instead of the nice Pureblood boy who…"

Harry sighed and interrupted the elf's tirade, "Kreacher – I need you to watch Dobby."

The irate house-elf peered at Harry with his rheumy blue eyes, he was about to interrupt Harry when the Gryffindor continued, "I reckon Dobby's a bit… temperamental. I want you to stop him from doing something to Draco… Draco Malfoy."

Kreacher's eyes lit up and he bowed, "Kreacher will do as master says…" he continued watching the floor and mumbling, "…nasty little mudblood traitor that he is.

"Yes, Kreacher will watch the nice Malfoy boy, who should be Kreacher's master instead of the bloody…"

He looked up and was startled when he saw Harry, "Master is still here?"

He continued muttering to himself, "He should be with the other blood traitors; Kreacher thinks they ditched him, traitorous bastards that they are."

Harry flinched and then sighed in relief when Kreacher finally disappeared with a popping sound.

He sat on the bed, a bit overwhelmed by the elves' antics. Finally his mood lifted, thinking about Dobby watching Boot, and he rubbed his hands gleefully - that'll teach Boot to swap his book. Perhaps the Ravenclaw was trying to steal Draco from him again.

---

After they left the potions classroom, Hermione tugged a protesting Ron by his Gryffindor tie. They ascended the stairs and she opened the door of an empty classroom on the second floor.

"Mione! You're just like Fred… or George. One of them was Polyjuiced as me…"

"Whatever you're talking about?" snapped Hermione, brushing aside a strand of her bushy hair. Without waiting for an answer, she took out her wand and spelled the door closed.

She turned to Ron and asked, "The book you gave me, you took it from the cupboard?"

He nodded irately, and then his stomach made a rumbling sound – which Hermione chose to ignore. She bent down and rummaged in her bag, finally taking out a book she held it gingerly and peered at it cautiously.

"Seems to be normal," she opened it and read the title. She huffed; it appeared to be their normal Transfigurations textbook. She stabbed her wand angrily towards the book, "Finite incantatem!"

When nothing happened, she clutched the book to her chest, muttering, "I have to find out about those notes – I bet McGonagall wrote her own spells there and that's why Harry got the perfect hedgehog!"

"Perhaps it's protected by Harry's pouf magic!" sneered Ron.

Hermione smacked him on the head with the book, "I'm tired of your homophobic rants!"

He looked incredulously at her, "Why, you've heard me before!"

"Hush, Ron, Let me think," snapped Hermione, pacing back and forth in the small classroom.

She cast different spells at the book and was incensed when nothing seemed to happen.

"I can't undo Harry's spell. I need help!" said Hermione, tugging her sweater nervously.

Ron blurted, "Let's go to McGonagall!"

The two made their way to McGonagall's office. After Hermione knocked on the door, McGonagall's gruff voice told them to enter. They found the Transfigurations Professor reading intently a journal. Her severe bun was hidden beneath her pointy hat and her square glasses appeared to have been polished recently. With a patient sigh, McGonagall put the journal on the table. She looked up at them inquiringly and bade them sit down. When Ron's stomach rumbled again, she motioned towards a tin can full of cookies.

Ron grabbed the can and started wolfing down the cookies.

Hermione pushed the Transfigurations book towards McGonagall, "Could you help me with his book, Professor? It seems to be spelled, and I really yearn to practice what's in there."

Hermione hid a smirk, thinking that her favorite professor would be grateful that she returned the book full with McGonagall's own scribbled notes. The Transfigurations teacher was bound to share those insights with her, thought Hermione smugly.

McGonagall gingerly grabbed the book and opened it. She peered curiously at it. Apparently it was a common Transfigurations textbook. She sniffed disdainfully - the author was certainly no friend of hers; her explanations were a bit absurd at times. She skimmed through the book and found it completely normal.

She took out her wand, and uttered a spell she was forced to learn in order to tap into the Weasley Twins' secret notes during her class, 'Revelo maximus!'

With a satisfied sigh, McGonagall opened the book – and was startled out of her wits when an obscene phallic thingy winked at her and slithered insinuatingly across the page.

She blanched and her pencil-thin eyebrows shot upward; she closed the book forcefully.

"Granger, just what do you intend to do with this?" snapped McGonagall. Her lips were pursed and she was frowning at a seemingly oblivious Hermione.

"I'll practice what's there, of course," replied Hermione, wondering if McGonagall was too tired to process things properly. She gently touched Ron's shoulder, "I'm sure Ron will be only too glad to help me with it."

McGonagall shook her head furiously, and her pointy hat slipped a bit upon her head. She wondered what was going on in Gryffindor Tower - first Potter hooked up with the Malfoy boy – and now her favorite student came up to her with this unseemly behavior.

Taking a deep breath, McGonagall opened the book to Harry's carefully researched drawings of two males coupling. She bent her head and watched them carefully – while her hat slipped further. Finally she remarked acidly, "You don't have the equipment for this, Granger!"

"Oh, that's no problem" - Hermione waved her hand offhandedly – "I'm sure Professor Flitwick will be glad to help me with it."

McGonagall goggled openly – while Ron continued his attack on her cookies.

"I've always admired his wandwork," finished Hermione, looking dreamily in the distance - thinking about the great notes she was sure to receive.

Minerva stood up suddenly; her pointy hat threatened to fall to the floor any minute, but she was too unsettled to care. She paced back and forth - she just couldn't believe what her favorite student got up to. Minerva wished Albus was here to deal with this untoward behavior; but he was busy gallivanting around - searching for a bloody ring, of all things!

"Miss Granger" – said she, breathing heavily –"that would be most unseemly!"

Very surprised, Hermione looked at the Transfigurations Professor. She couldn't understand why McGonagall suddenly appeared to be against teacher-student cooperation to solve intellectual endeavors.

"If that's not enough, Professor Snape could help me with a potion or two?" said Hermione tentatively.

"I'm sure he helped you do that," continued the witch, pointing to the book - which McGonagall was clutching tightly to her bosom.

Then she added in a pleading tone, "You must have done what's there yourself; after all, you're superb at Transfigurations!"

Glaring fiercely at Hermione, McGonagall threw the book to the table, and her hat finally fell to the floor. Startled, Ron looked up from his cookie feast muttering, "Wha de madder?"

There was a brief shimmer around the Deputy Headmistress, unnoticed by Ron and Hermione who were looking at each other and thinking about food and academics, respectively – and Hermione never knew how close she came to being mauled by an irate tabby cat.

"Granger and Weasley, that will be" – snapped McGonagall once she calmed down somewhat – "ten… no, twenty points from Gryffindor."

Hermione looked at her agape, wondering what had set off the usually benevolent Transfiguration professor.

"And you'll have detention with Professor Snape," added McGonagall menacingly. Looking intently at the book, she appeared to change her mind, "Better make it with Professor Flitwick."

Shaking her head, McGonagall changed her mind yet again, "No, better be Pomona Sprout."

"B… but why, Professor" stammered Hermione.

McGonagall glared at the lusty book, "For your cheek, Miss Granger … for your cheek."

McGonagall motioned imperiously towards the door and turned her back on her wayward students. After the disconsolate Gryffindors left, McGonagall turned to her desk and that bloody book. She gingerly picked it up and hefted it in her hand. When Albus came back, she would give it to him and she'd let him deal with the lusty Gryffindors.

Shaking her head, she ruefully recalled Albus' past and reflected that perhaps she should keep it after all – it could give Albus strange ideas.

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