Born Under a Bad Side

Part One

Harry Potter was not secretive. In fact, he prided himself on being a very open and honest person. There were a few secrets that he kept to himself, like how he dreamed of Cedric and his parents every night, but other than that, he was an open book, and he liked it that way.

Which is exactly why he was sitting in a bathroom stall, feet position to look like he was actually relieving nature's call, scribbling hastily onto a bit of parchment.

This is really getting fucking annoying. I spent all of last month planning a way for us to meet, and what happens? A GOD DAMNED SCHOOL ASSEMBLY ABOUT ANTI-SMOKING AND ALCOHOL!?!?!?!?!?!?

Harry waved the bit of parchment rapidly back and forth, much the same way girls do when painting their nails, to try and dry the ink. Five seconds later the parchment found itself folded up in as many sections as was physically possible, resting in Harry's pocket, along with the quill and ink. Flushing the toilet for good measure, Harry opened the stall door to find Ron standing there, fist raised and mouth open to ask a question. Harry yelled and fell backward with a slash into the toilet.

" Ron!" Harry cried, pissed off. Ron slowly lowered his fist and offered his hand to Harry, who ignored it and got up out of the toilet on his own.

" Sorry…" Ron started, slowly, " But Hermione and I were beginning to think you fell in!" Harry scowled and rung out his robes.

" Well then, seeing as you've ensured that I did just that, can we go on to potions now?" He asked, pushing past Ron and out of the bathroom. Hermione, who had been waiting just outside the door, fell into step with the now quite wet Harry and rather nervous Ron. She fumbled in her bag for her wand, and finding it, pointed it at Harry and said,

" Aquina Reverso!" Harry felt a small breath of warm air tease across his body, and then it was gone, leaving him feeling gloriously dry.

" Thanks Herm. And sorry Ron. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just in a bad mood this morning, and I'm still pissed off at Dumbledore for pulling that blasted school assembly stunt." He said, rubbing his temples. Hermione frowned. She, like Ron, had noticed how out of character Harry had been lately, and didn't like it. Unlike Ron, however, she was not so quickly fooled by Harry's excuses, which was obvious by the way Ron grinned and clapped Harry on the back, saying,

" Don't worry about it. An hour with the Slytherins for Double Potions should be just the thing to cheer you up!" Harry groaned. " And what exactly do you have against that school assembly anyway, Harry?" Ron added as an afterthought, " Sure it was boring, but-" Ron was cut off mid sentence due to someone roughly shoving him into Harry as said person stalked past. Ron bristled at the telltale platinum hair, and called,

" Watch where you're going, asshole!" Ron yelled. Hermione shot him a dirty look, but Ron ignored her as Draco had spun around and was currently marching right back. Harry just watched, disinterested.

" What do you want, Weasel?" Draco spat, coming within three inches of the red haired Gryfindor's face. Despite the fact that Draco was a good head shorter than Ron (Though when it came to Ron, this was true with most people), his glare was enough to make anyone nervous, and Ron was no exception. Ron hid this reasonably well though, and spat back,

" I'm not the one blundering around like a troll, Slytherin scum!" Draco laughed.

" I wouldn't say such things so deep in Slytherin territory if I were you, muggle lover." He said. Harry watched as Ron turned a brilliant shade of red, and decided that now was as good a time as any to step in, so he did.

" Ron…back off. This is a waste of your time." Harry said, pushing the two away. He reached into his pocket and discreetly pulled out the note he had scratched in the bathroom, and looked to Draco.

" Malfoy, if you've got nothing left to say. Please leave. I'm in a shity mood and have no interest in fighting you today. Ron, though slightly miffed at being on the sidelines of the fight again, nodded his head vigorously. Hermione just looked on, worried as always. Draco snickered.

" Fine, Potter. But this isn't finished." He said, grabbing Harry by the collar and jerking him close as if to emphasize. Harry took advantage of the brief closeness and dropped the note into Draco's bag without either of his friends (or the passing students who had stopped to watch the fight) noticing. Then, with great flair, pushed the blonde away from him and spat.

" Don't touch me, Malfoy!"

" Like I'd want to." Draco hissed back. Then, with a light pat on the side of his bag to let Harry know he'd gotten the note, Draco spun on his heel and stalked away. Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched the retreating figure, Harry watching more closely than the other two. When there was a considerable amount of distance between them, Harry shook his head and started on again. Ron sighed.

" One more year, Harry. Just think about it. One more year, and we never have to deal with that slimy git again."

Harry chose to ignore that last comment.

~ ~ ~

Potions was so damned boring! Seventh year potions, rumored to be the most difficult class Hogwarts had to offer, was a complete joke…at least that's what it was a potions genius, namely one Draco Malfoy. For Draco was exactly that-a potions genius, and because of that he had come to dread the class almost as much as Harry did. Not only was he bored out of his mind, but ever since he had surpassed Professor Snape's skills (Draco could measure out solid amounts by sight better than Snape could with the sharpest pair of magical scales), he had been the butt of the Professor's rage more often than Longbottom. In example, just the other night he had served a four hour long detention with Professor Sprout debugging some of her Stinkweed plants because Draco had failed to keep his scales in good condition (more importantly, for asking what the point was when Snape pointed out their less than stellar treatment…a rack for keeping pens and ink).

Mid lecture (on Veritaserum), Snape handed out an ingredient list and instructed the class to open up to page 489. Draco used this opportunity to unfold the note Harry had dropped him, and slipped it into his book to read. He grinned at that last comment. Oh Harry…his dear, forgetful Harry. Draco turned slightly in his chair so he could look at the green eyed boy, and was about to make a scathing comment (which he hoped would lead to another mock fight which he could direct towards the topic of wines), when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, annoyed and expecting Goyle, but came face to face with a very ticked off Potions Professor. Draco's scowl just deepened.

" Mr. Malfoy. Is there any particular reason you were staring off into space?" He asked in a tone most often reserved for Harry, any one in Harry's family, or anyone even bearing a resemblance to the ebony haired Gryfindor. Draco's scowl broke into a grin that slightly unsettled (though he would not admit it) Snape, and said,

" As of lately I've been working on a potion that would work much light a deep sleep potion, but instead of just inducing a deep sleep, it would induce a coma that would last for a couple of days…very handy for surgery and the likes I would think. But out of the blue I began thinking, how would the use of alcohol as the liquid base effect the speed of the potion? I think it would work much more effectively, seeing how alcohol is a stimulant, and I'd probably use a red wine of some kind, probably a cabernet sauvignon, but I'm not sure how well the sharp flavour of belladonna would work-"

" That is quite enough, Mr. Malfoy!" Snape exploded. He had been growing redder and redder as Draco and rambled on, and when the boy suggested that he actually had the skill to devise a potion and then make slight alterations in the name of how good it tasted? Well…that had been the last straw!

" What did I-"

" Detention! I want to see you in my office at four o clock to morrow-"

" I have classes-"

" In the morning!"

" The morning!?"

" Don't be late." Snape hissed. And with a swish of his cloak that obviously stated the conversation was over, stepped back up onto his podium and began to lecture some more. Draco had a look of stunned surprise on his face, so he flopped back in his seat and settled for shaking his head.

" Well damn. I've never heard of giving detentions in the morning." Goyle said. Draco shrugged.

" It's no big deal, really." He said, then muttered under his breath. " But that means I'm going to have to cut back my time to only two hours. I do need some sleep after all."

" What's that?" Crabbe asked. Draco looked between his two friends (yes, they were stupid, but friends all the same) and shook his head.

" Nothing. Just said Snape's a greasy git."

" What was that, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked, hearing his name. Draco, again, shook his head.

" Nothing." He said, smiling serenely and pretending to take notes he didn't need. When Snape finally looked away again, he scowled and muttered,

" A greasy git with a severe case of selective hearing."

" Three in the morning!" Snape bellowed. Draco groaned.

~ ~ ~

Cabernet sauvignon. Got it. And he got the message across to me with flying colours…although he really should try to NOT goad Snape on. He's compromising our precious time together.

You've gotta love Hogsmead Wednesdays. I remember when I first came to Hogsmead, and everything was so big and exciting. Well it still is today, mainly because it's been growing. Fred and George set up Weasley's Wizard Wheezes…but they weren't the only ones to take that big step into the world of business. Other shops, some more respectable than others (seems that Colin has an older sister, also a photographer, but she deals in something a bit more…explicit), popped up with my defeat of Voldemort (I know that sounds pompous, but it's the truth). I guess people feel more comfortable now, but that's beside the point. The point is, a really nice, but strict, old man had set up a liquor store that I absolutely adore, on the very edge of the not so little anymore town. It looks little on the outside, but inside it's huge! There are racks and racks of bottles and glasses that go up five, six stories. Mind you, he's all for Anti-Smoking and Alcohol in youth (He's worse than ! Dumbledore…), so I have to use a polly juice potion in order to shop there.

Which is why, scary as it seems, I am currently in the form of my Aunt Petunia.

" Good evening Mrs. Dursley." He says to me. I inwardly cringe, just as I always do when he calls me that, but what I actually say is,

" Good evening to you too, Mr. Goozamer. How are you feeling? Better than a few weeks ago I hope?" He had a nasty flu last time I was in here. Mr. Goozamer nods his head, smiling.

" Yes, much better. Thank you for asking. Now what can I help you with?" He asks. I glance around at the various alcohol bottles. They are all home made muggle style and are exquisitely strong.

" I've just finished a batch of peach brandy that's 41% alcohol by volume. Sure to nock the socks off of anyone, and I'm willing to bet it wouldn't be to bad in the fruit punch…" I laugh, hating how false it sounds, and say,

" No…that's quite all right. I'm actually looking for something a bit more mellow. A red wine perhaps, like a cabernet sauvignon." Mr. Goozamer gets this funny look in his eye and winks.

" Sending the kids to bed early tonight, huh?" He asks, winking on of his blue, wrinkly eyes at me. I blink a few times, trying to process what he's saying, and then blanch. The idea of Petunia and Vernon…nope! Derailing that train of though now! I smile and say,

" Something like that." He grins and walks out from behind the counter and walks across the store to his wine racks, where he climbs up a ladder a few stories and pushes his way around for a few moments. Then, just like Olivander does when choosing a wand, he dramatically pulls out a wine bottle and climbs down. He hands the purple glass to me and points to the gold label,

" This was my masterpiece batch. Made it in eighty-eight from elderberries. It's not a cabernet sauvignon, but it's very dry, and very strong, and I'm sure it will cater to your taste perfectly." He says.

" This will be perfect." I say, grinning.

" One galleon, sixteen sickles, and fifteen knuts." He says, pompously punching the number into his cash register. I raise an eyebrow.

" That's rather expensive." I say. He grins.

" All good things are." He replies. I grin back and press the money into his hands.

" It's been good doing business with you again, Mrs. Dursley." I grin.

" Likewise." I say, and then step out the door.

I haven't been perfecting my polly juice potion for nothing now.

I have about fifteen minutes before I change back into my real self, so I spend this time wandering around the northern edge of the town where students tend not to venture due to the lack of interesting things such as pranks and porn. There are a few people who would recognize my Aunt, and though they would probably only congratulate me on my illegal alcoholic adventures, I don't want to run the risk. As soon as I feel the change start, I dart behind a souvenir shop, and as soon as I am back to my normal self, I jog back to the main part of town…to find it empty. Of Hogwarts students at least. Confused, I look down at my watch to find it is six o clock already.

" Damn…" I swear, and begin to make my way to Honeydukes, wine bottle still in hand. I realize this could be a problem pull out my wand, muttering a shrinking charm. Slipping the now monopoly piece sized bottle into my pocket, I quietly slip into the candy shop, praying that it's busy.

It's not.

" Hello Harry!" Cries Mr. Honeyduke. I sigh.

" Something the matter?" He asks, seeing my weathered expression. I shake my head no.

" Your class mates left about half an hour ago. Did you know?"

" Uh…yes. I just need to pick up some last minute Halloween presents."

" Halloween presents?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. I nod and make my way to the "Odd Tastes" section, where I won't be seen.

" Mmhm. It's a new tradition. It'll be all the rave by the end of the year, mark my words." I say. Mr. Honeyduke looks doubtful, but doesn't say a word.

I, meanwhile, am trying to figure out how I am supposed to get into the storage room, and then, the trap door. Mr. Honeyduke knows I am still in the room, so I can't just slip on my invisibility cloak (which I had luckily brought along if such a situation were to arise) and sneak into the back room. Mr. Honeyduke would wonder how I had left the store without him noticing, and would investigate, and he might discover the trap door. I begin to get an idea. It largely depends on which direction Mr. Honeyduke is facing when I leave, but it's a good a shot as any. Grabbing some blood suckers and planning on giving them to Snape as a joke, I walk up to the counter.

" Blood suckers?" Mr. Honeyduke asks.

" Joke for one of my more beloved professors." I say. Mr. Honeyduke snorts, and rings up the candy. I hand him the bronze knuts, and slowly begin to walk to the door. Opening it, Harry glance back at Mr. Honeyduke, breath held. To my immense relief, I find that his back is turned to me. Quick as a flash, I pull on my invisibility cloak and shut the door. That taken care of, I quietly creep towards the back door, and wait, trying to breathe as quietly as possible.

It seems like hours go by, and my feet are starting to hurt. But when I look down at my watch, I find that only five minutes have gone by. I want to groan, but stop myself. This is going to take for ever. Mr. Honeyduke is walking around the store, inspecting his bins. I watch as he peers into the peppermint troll bin, checking to make sure the same amount of trolls that were paid for were gone from the bin. Satisfied that none were stolen in the mad rush that is Hogsmead Wednesday, he moves on to the other big sellers like the chocolate frogs and Bertie Bot's Every Flavour Beans. I feel like sighing, but know that I can't. And then a miracle happens. Mr. Honeyduke peers into his Drubbles Best Blowing Gum barrel and stops.

" Sold plumb out again." He says to himself, and walks to the back door, merrily tugging it open and leaving it that way. I can't believe my luck and walk right in, heading straight for the trap door. As soon as Mr. Honeyduke leaves the room, shutting the door firmly, I yank open the trap door, go down the stairs far enough to close the door without hitting myself in the head, and then run down the rest of them, taking them three at a time. It's a long run, and I, priding myself on being quite in shape, really don't feel all that tired at all. I reach into my pocket about halfway back to check on the wine. It's starting to turn back into it's normal size, what with my attention being diverted elsewhere, and I quickly shrink it back down to size. I skid to a halt at the base of the stone slide. Being careful not to crush the wine bottle, I slowly climb up the winding path, working on catching my breath as well, and pause to listen. I forgot to bring the Marauder's Map ! and therefor cannot be absolutely sure that no one is around. It seems quiet enough, though, and cautiously, I push my way out of the statue. Luckily, no one is there, and I jump out, hit the ground running, and dash up to the Gryfindor common room.

Where I am immediately set upon by Hermione and Ron.

" Harry!" She cries, looking extremely worried.

" What took you so long?" He asks, looking just as worried. I shrug and push past him.

" Nothing. I just lost track of time."

" A whole hour?!" Hermione asks. I blanch. I hadn't realized I'd been gone that long.

" I had to wait a long time for a chance to slip into the back of Honeydukes." I say. Ron nods, understanding. Hermione just bites her lip.

" Don't worry about it." I say." She sighs.

" You missed dinner." She said. I shrug.

" I had a lot of candy. I'm not all that hungry." I say. Hermione scowls, but Ron laughs and claps me on the back again.

" Up for a game of Wizards Chess?" He asks.

Later on that night, Ron, Hermione, and Harry were the last people, besides a group of third years, in the common room. After about an hour of Hermione pestering and guilt tripping them, the two boys finally quit playing chess (right when Harry was beginning to get the upper hand too, much to his annoyance) and started to work on their star charts for Divination.

" I have never understood these damned things." Ron said, trying to figure out why he had Pluto in front of Mercury. Harry shook his head, equally bewildered, but at least his made more sense. It was saying something about time. Or rather the lack thereof. Harry glanced up at the clock, and paled. It was five after eleven. He could not believe that the time had passed so quickly. Hermione was saying something about how star charts were a crock of bull shit and that Harry and Ron should just drop divination all together. Harry heard non of this though.

" Um…guys. I…need to go." He said. Ron and Hermione stared at him, confused.

" If you don't mind me asking, where?" Ron asked. Harry cast around the room for something to help him out, and his gaze landed on his star chart. He picked it up.

" I think it might help if I could see the actual night sky, so I'm going to go to the Astronomy tower." He said, wincing inside. Damn! He hadn't meant to say where he actually was going. Oh well, hopefully too much damage hadn't been done.

" That's a great idea, Harry!" Hermione said, for the moment dropping her worried-about-Harry mood. " Ron can go with you."

" No!"

" No!" The two boys cried simultaneously. Hermione and Ron looked at Harry again, curiously. Harry shrugged.

" I work better on this kind of thing alone." He said. Ron accepted this answer, though Hermione obviously didn't, and said,

" And I just don't want to go." Hermione was back to her worried-about-Harry mode again. Harry, not wanting anything else to happen that might compromise meeting Draco that night, jumped up and cried in a far too over enthusiastic voice,

" Well then! I'll just be going!" He cried. And before anyone in the room could say a word, Harry dashed out of the common room, quite forgetting two important things: his invisibility cloak, and his star chart. Harry didn't take any notice of this though. He walked straight for the astronomy tower, only pausing to look around corners for prowling teachers, Filch, or Peeves.

~ ~ ~

Well, it's eleven ten and Mr. Eleven O Clock Sharp has yet to show up. I'm starting to get annoyed. You see, we Malfoys have always prided ourselves on being punctual, and while we may show up fashionably late for a party or some other public gathering, we are ALWAYS on time for personal meetings.

Impatiently, I look around the astronomy tower. It really is the perfect place for midnight rendezvous, or eleven o clock ones, which ever you prefer. The room opens up onto a balcony, but even in the dead of winter, it's never colder than sixty degrees or so. Not only is there a wonderful view of the grounds, but it allows for the rest of the room to be illuminated by soft moonlight. The room is sparsely furnished. There are a few round tables on the enclosed side of the room, and then only a few feet away from the edge of the balcony, is a larger rectangular table which Professor Sinistra uses as her desk. It's a very nice table, ornately decorated by carved pictures of the planets and stars and those magical creatures like the centaurs and unicorns that could read them. The moonlight falls on it in such a manner that it looks like a Celtic offering table, very gothic and beautiful.

I am sitting on the stone barrier at the edge of the balcony chiding myself for thinking such sappy thoughts, when I hear the door squeak. I look up, momentarily startled and afraid that it's a teacher, but as soon as I see green eyes, practically glowing in the soft moonlight, I relax.

" Took you long enough." I say, trying to sound annoyed. It comes out a purr. He grins and walks right over to me, side stepping the ebony table.

" I had to make a detour to the kitchens." He says, producing two crystal goblets. Still standing, and never taking those gorgeous eyes from mine, he sets them down on the ledge and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out something far too small for me to see in the dim light. With a small tap of his wand, the think grows into a purple wine bottle with a gold and silver label. I look at him, questioningly. I've never seen such a peculiar wine bottle…at least for a red. In the wizarding world at least, read wines tend to come in green bottles. And it was an odd shape as well…rather like an orange with a cigar sticking out of the top.

" It's not a cabernet…but I think you'll like it all the same." Harry says, pouring a small amount of the blood red liquid into each of the glasses, his gaze never leaving mine for a moment. We both pick up the wine glasses, I still sitting and he still standing. I take a small sip, and smile. It truly is good stuff. I move to put the glass down, but find myself paralyzed at the sight of Harry. The soft silvery light reflects off of his dark hair, making it look like a metallic blue. And his eyes. His eyes are bright and sparkling with adrenaline and lust. Never looking away from me, he lightly swirls the wine around a few times and sniffs, again, delicately. My pulse speeds up, I can feel my face flush. The temperature in the room seems to have gone up a few hundred degrees, and it's all Harry's fault. And the best part is he knows it. Grinning at me, he takes a small sip, being sure leave his mouth open as he does so just enough so that I can see the red liquid flow! over his delicious tongue. I can't stand it anymore. I jump up, the wine glass falling to the ground below just as he drops his own with a shatter on the granite tiles and crushes me to him, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. I can taste the wine on his breathe and in his mouth, and I such at his tongue in a desperate attempt to get every last lingering drop. The blood rushes from my head to more southern regions, leaving me with a dizzy feeling, which is doubled when he removes his mouth from mine and begins a heated progression of licks and bites down my throat and to my collar bone, where her bites down, hard. Though what exactly it is I cry out isn't exactly discernable because it's garbled in a mixture of a yell of pain and a cry of pleasure. Just the way I like it. Just the way Harry knows I do.

" You're quite vocal tonight…" He murmurs against my skin, pushing my robe and shirt away so he can lick, slow, even circles around my shoulder. My face is buried in his neck, where I am breathing heavily and ragged. Fucking Christ! If he can reduce me to this shaking pile of nothing without even undressing me, you can only imagine what it's like to have him…

I gasp when his cold hands find their way under my shirt and begin kneading the hollow of my back and his mouth finds me again. I arch up against him, my now quite hard erection, which is already painfully restricted by my jeans, rub against his, and for a fleeting moment, I have the satisfaction of knowing I've gained the upper hand. He shudders and momentarily pauses, drawing in a shaking breath, and then before I know it, I'm thrown onto the black table, pens and papers flying everywhere, and Harry is literally ripping my clothing off of me, growling. I reciprocate his actions, leaning up to capture one of his hard nipples. He lets out a strangled cry, and begins trying to undo my jeans. It seems I've gained the upper hand again, and I flip him over with a loud thud on the table. With a slightly cleared head, I quickly undo his jeans and pull them off, along with the silver and green boxers that I sent him for his birthday last summer. I lean back momentarily to ga! ze at him in all of his naked glory. I swear on my family's name, he isn't just a human being. He can't be…not the way his eyes, half lidded and sharp with desire pierce the darkness, the way he lays there, momentarily submissive, legs spread just waiting for me to come down...I'm going to have to thank him one of these days. Thank him for choosing me.

Actually…I think I'll just thank him right now.