LOPW - Round Two

[dysonrules]

Round Two of Le Obscure Prompt War with lilith1631
My evil prompts:

purple feather
washing-up liquid
the highway code
six of diamonds

Title:  Six of Diamonds
Words: 1,639
Rating: NC-17 (barely)
Warnings:  Fluffiness, not my usual level of porn (sorry, had to keep the word count low!)
Disclaimer:  No ownage, just playing.
Summary:  Harry can't keep his eyes off of Draco in the library.  As usual, the Slytherin seems to be up to something...

Prompts: A purple feather, washing-up liquid, the highway code, six of diamonds

 Six of Diamonds

             Harry looked up when Malfoy walked into the library. Their eyes met and clashed for a brief instant. Malfoy smirked. Harry glared. Malfoy moved on and sat down at a nearby table, unfortunately still in Harry’s line of sight.

             He tried not to watch the Slytherin, he really did, but it was bloody difficult. For one thing, the evil git was like grace personified, and it was almost mesmerizing just watching him walk across a room. For another, Malfoy held a bottle of washing-up liquid. He set it carefully on the table, pulled a small book from under his robes, and began to read.

             Harry dragged his eyes back to the booklet in his lap and made a valiant effort to concentrate. He did not notice at all when Malfoy raised a pale hand and tucked an errant lock of white-blond hair behind an ear. Harry scowled. All right, so he noticed, but he wasn’t staring.

             “Why are you staring at me, Potter?” Malfoy asked. Harry flushed.

             “Wasn’t staring,” he muttered. “I was concentrating.”

             “Well, concentrate on someone else,” Malfy snapped. “What the hell are you reading, anyway?”

             Harry’s fingers tightened on the highway code in his hands. Harry had promised Hermione he would help her study for her Muggle driving test. Despite the fact that summer was months away, Harry was dutifully underlining questions. Hermione had trotted off to deal with some disturbance or another in her role as Head Girl, but she would return, so Harry had best be prepared. Harry countered Malfoy with a question. 

 “What’s with the soap?”

             Malfoy’s silver eyes flicked to the bottle and back to Harry. He smirked. Harry thought about how he would like to wipe the smirk from those lips. With his fist, for starters. Or with his mouth…

 

            “Your underlings are missing,” Draco noted.

             “As are yours,” Harry said. Not that it was unusual for Crabbe and Goyle to shun the library. Harry doubted they could read. Ron was hiding out in the Gryffindor common room, avoiding Hermione. Harry had forgotten what their latest row was about.

             Pansy Parkinson strolled in, even though she was another one whose ability to read was questionable. She planted herself next to Malfoy and draped herself over his shoulder. Harry’s eyes narrowed. Parkinson’s hand reached up and pushed back the platinum hair as she leaned forward to whisper in Malfoy’s ear. Harry felt for his wand and considered that Parkinson would even more resemble a pug dog with hair sprouting from her face.

             Malfoy grinned, and then his eyes shot to the doorway. He stiffened. Crabbe had pelted in, looking alarmed. Malfoy instantly got up and walked quickly to Harry.

             “Potter, follow me,” Malfoy said imperiously.

             Such was his tone of command that Harry was halfway to his feet before he caught himself. He glared, but Malfoy had disappeared into the shelves without looking back. Movement near the door drew Harry’s attention. Crabbe was roughly jostled aside by Severus Snape, who stalked into the library looking even surlier than usual. Harry raised a brow. Snape marched forward and snapped at Parkinson. “Where is Malfoy?”

             Curious, Harry got up and trailed after Malfoy, wondering what the Slytherin had done to get his pet teacher into a dither. Row after row was empty, but when Harry reached the last collection of books, a pale hand stretched out and dragged him forward. Harrry’s breath left him with a woof as a body pressed him roughly into the shelf. Malfoy’s face was inches from Harry’s, and he felt a soft puff of breath against his lips as Malfoy spoke.

             “If you want to annoy Snape, you’ll keep this for me,” he said, and Harry felt Malfoy’s hands against his chest, opening a button on his shirt. Harry gasped as something cold and smooth was slipped against his bare chest. There was a brief instant of warmth as Malfoy’s fingers trailed back over the skin, and then disappeared.

             “I’ll pick it up later,” Malfoy said casually. “Don’t let anyone see you with it, and for Merlin’s sake, don’t lose it.”

             Harry tried to regain his voice, crowded out of his brain with the realization that Malfoy’s thigh had been thrust between his legs, and the Slytherin’s hipbone was digging almost painfully into him. Before he could speak, Malfoy’s weight left him, and the blond disappeared down the aisle. Harry leaned his head back against the books and wondered what the hell had just happened. Malfoy’s scent lingered in the air, tantalizing and familiar. Harry touched a hand to his chest, where something rectangular and flat lay beneath his shirt.

             He pushed himself away from the shelf and returned to the central area. Malfoy sat in a chair, looking bored, while Snape hissed at him. Harry watched for a moment, and Snape straightened to give him a glare. Malfoy ignored Harry completely. Harry shrugged and left the library, deciding he would even help Malfoy as long as it irritated Snape—the Slytherin had been dead-on about that, at any rate.

             Harry ducked into an alcove and pulled out the object. He looked at it in puzzlement. A playing card. The six of diamonds. Harry turned it over several times, but saw nothing unusual about it. He sighed and tucked it into the pocket with his wand. Malfoy was likely just playing games. Harry debated stuffing the card into a nearby decorative urn, but figured he might as well play along. He went to the Gryffindor common room and waited for Hermione to find him, uncertain whether or not to tell her about the encounter.

 

            As it turned out, Harry didn’t have time to worry about Hermione. He had barely spent twenty minutes in the common room, listening to Ron complain about Hermione’s bossy ways, when a second-year Gryffindor entered through the portrait hole and slipped Harry a note.

             Meet me in the third floor corridor, by the statue of the hump-backed witch.

             Ron was watching him curiously. Harry tucked the note away.

             “Forgot something in the library,” Harry lied and headed out. Ron shrugged and started a chess game with Dean.

             Harry made his way to the empty corridor, wondering if Malfoy knew about the secret passage that led to Hogsmeade. It seemed an odd location to request a meeting, except for the fact that the corridor was rarely used. He tried not to think about the fact that he was meeting clandestinely with Malfoy, of all people. He told himself he was only doing so to find out what Malfoy was up to, in order to stop him.

             As he approached the witch’s statue, he suddenly felt himself slammed up against the wall, banging his head against the stone. He saw stars for a moment, and then felt a body pressed against his for the second time that day. Harry tried to move his arms, but they were stuck to the wall on either side of his head.

             “Do you have it?” Malfoy asked. Harry scowled. Manhandling was definitely not the way to go about gaining Harry’s cooperation. Malfoy caught the look. “Going to be difficult, aren’t you?”

             Before Harry could reply, Malfoy clamped a hand over Harry’s mouth—the same hand that held Malfoy’s wand.

 

            “Never mind, I’ll find it myself,” Malfoy said, and his other hand unbuttoned Harry’s shirt. Harry gasped as icy cold fingers slipped over his skin, sliding over Harry’s chest. The card no longer sat where Malfoy had left it, of course, and Harry heard the Slytherin mutter a spell. The buttons no longer held Harry’s shirt open, and Malfoy’s hand began to move lower, leaving a trail of chilled gooseflesh in its wake. Harry yanked at his arms, but they were held fast. 

             As Malfoy’s hand moved down to Harry’s waistband, Harry bucked his hips in protest, but succeeded only in slamming his flank into Malfoy’s. The Slytherin grinned and retaliated by kicking Harry’s legs apart and pressing his groin firmly into Harry’s. Between the cold hand and the warm body, Harry horrifyingly felt his body respond. He prayed Malfoy wouldn’t notice.

 

            The pale hand opened Harry’s waistband and dipped inside, before feeling around with single-minded determination. Harry groaned, because he was definitely hard now, and there was no way the Slytherin wouldn’t notice. The smirk widened and the silver eyes bored into Harry’s as Malfoy’s smooth fingers slid over Harry’s growing erection and teased the tip with a twisting caress. Harry bucked again and wished the wall would open up and swallow him alive.

             “Apparently you didn’t hide it there, eh?” Malfoy said with a chuckle. The hand over Harry’s mouth disappeared, as did the one in his pants. Harry felt movement over his robes. “Ah, here we are.” Malfoy held up the playing card.

             Before Harry could speak, Malfoy muttered a spell and the six of diamonds suddenly turned into a large, purple feather.

             “Occamy feather,” Malfoy said. “Useful potion ingredient, but very rare. I took it from Snape’s stores this morning. Unfortunately, Bulstrode ratted me out. I should reward you for your assistance, eh?”

             Harry’s mouth was covered again, this time by Malfoy’s lips. Harry’s protest was smothered by Malfoy’s tongue, which plundered Harry’s mouth. At the same time, the purple feather was drawn down the side of Harry’s face, over his throat, and down his chest in a light caress. Malfoy’s other hand returned to Harry’s painfully erect cock. His thumb slid over the wet tip and swirled the liquid over the throbbing head.

             “Be sure to think of me when you wank tonight, Potter,” Malfoy murmured against Harry’s lips. With that, he swaggered down the hall, casting an absent Finite Incantatum behind him. Harry’s wrists released from the wall. He sagged against the rough stone, panting.

 

            Think of me when you wank tonight. God, that was guaranteed.

Rules of War
Round One dysonrules
Round One lilith1631

No problem whatsoever.  Harder prompts next time?