The Playing Field, Part 2
By Bracken

Pairing: It's still Harry/Draco

Disclaimer: Nope. They're still not mine. Though if J.K. ever gets tired of Draco I'd be more than willing to take him off her hands.

A/N: I'd just like to say thanks to everyone that reviewed this fic. Also, to my wonderful beta-reader Xelith. Gosh, this fic would be atrocious without her (did I spell that right?!)

Dedication: To Xelith, for all the beta-ing on top of her homework. For Laura, who's really tired. For Mandy, who's sick. For Tami, who's either flying or in an airport. (yuk, things don't look too great for my friends, do they?)

ALL THOUGHTS IN **....** and emphasis in *....*

Chapter Two: "Set"


Harry looked up at the swirling blue of the Hogwarts' simulated sky and nervously eyed the circling post-owls, just as he had all that week. And, just as it had been all week, nothing seemed to have arrived for him. Harry was torn between relief at having no demands made on him and impatience that he had been left hanging for this long. **Damn that Malfoy!**

Feeling his resolution slip, Harry hazarded a glance at the Slytherin table. Draco was laughing with a few of his housemates. His laughter had brought a film of glistening tears over his gray eyes and a slight flush to his face. He looked completely carefree.

**You'd think he'd pay more attention to the person he's blackmailing.**

thought Harry, rather caustically. And just then, as though brain waves were smoke signals and he'd smelled something burning, Draco looked directly in Harry's vicinity and locked eyes with him across the expanse of the Great Hall. **Stare him down.** thought Harry, desperate to prove that he was NOT weak, despite his compromising situation.

Across the large room, Draco held his gaze easily. Then, with that patented smirk, Draco raised his eyes to the air above Harry's head.

**Don't look. Don't look** Harry looked, where was his legendary will power now? Hovering ahead he could make out an unfamiliar post-owl. No, wait. An unfamiliar falcon?! The glossy black falcon swooped down and landed beside Harry's breakfast plate. Harry reached forward with trembling hands to detach the letter. It could be from only one person.

He hadn't even opened the tiny roll of parchment when he was joined by Ron and Hermione, who were not as early as he because they hadn't had to attend a five am Quidditch practice. Harry wasn't complaining; he found it increasingly harder to sleep soundly, thanks to Malfoy and his schemes.

"Wow," said Hermione, "was that a falcon I just saw leaving here? What did it bring you, Harry?"

"Not another Firebolt?" Ron's tone was hopeful, the word "Firebolt" said most reverently.

*Amazing that he can STILL go all starry-eyed when he talks about that broom." Thought Hermione, amused, and she returned her gaze to Harry.
"Well?"

"Erm.Snuffles." Sometimes he DID get foreign birds from Sirius. "Well, I'm going to go read this some place quieter." Harry strode quickly out of the hall.

"Strange," Hermione noted idly, "he doesn't usually leave to read his letters."
Harry sat in the darkened stone alcove, the likes of which were frequently found along Hogwarts corridors. To say he was apprehensive would be an understatement. He ran his hand through his hair in a gesture of nervousness. Judging from Malfoy's past exploits, Harry knew he should expect some ghastly demand made of him. The parchment crackled as it was unfolded. Harry could make out scrawling silver ink in a sloped and lazy writing that somehow seemed reminiscent of Malfoy's clear, drawling voice.


Convinced it held some sort of humiliating instruction, it took Harry awhile to register the words he was reading.

"Midnight at the astronomy tower. Come alone."

For some reason, the simple request did nothing to quell his fear.
Harry reached the astronomy tower in a rather bitter disposition. After all, it was at this place that he had been found out. He leaned against the rough, cold stone of the battlements and peered below. The Hogwarts' grounds were silent and the Forbidden Forest seemed for once to be at rest.

*Rather anti-climatic* thought Harry, recalling the dark clouds and shrieking wind of his last encounter with Malfoy. Harry leaned forward even further and smiled fondly when Hagrid's little cottage came into view.

"Thinking of jumping, Potter?" the cat-like body sauntered out of the shadows to accompany the cutting remark.

"I don't intend to ever make you that happy, Malfoy."

Draco's lips twitched at the statement. But he repressed the smile to say, "I rather think it would be a shame if you did jump."

"Don't play games with me Malfoy." Harry growled, 'I hate you and you definitely hate me."

Draco regarded him thoughtfully, 'I'm not denying THAT Potter, I just don't want you to die until I'm finished with you."

"Oh joy, Malfoy." Harry sneered, "It's so comforting to know I'm cared for."

Draco ignored the comment to rest his back against the closed tower door. His left hand stealthily found the key and deftly turned it: Locked, with an audible click. He leaned his head back and let the moonlight strike the slim column of his neck. His head cocked to one side, he sent Harry a cheeky grin as he peered curiously at him from under wheaten wisps of hair.

"Aren't you going to ask me what I want?" asked Draco playfully.

Harry was shaken. Malfoy always unsettled him, but to be with him alone was worse, and when Malfoy was behaving this strangely . . . well, Harry didn't know what to think. He had found the harsh words far more of a comfort than the open way Malfoy was now draped across the door. The look Malfoy was giving him seemed almost . . . alluring. Harry shook himself mentally.

**He's playing mind-games. ** He thought, **Just find out what he wants and leave immediately. **

"What do you want Malfoy?"

Draco batted his long lashes prettily in a mockery of screen heroines, oh, these games were more fun than he'd anticipated!
"You." He breathed. And watched Harry's green eyes grow large in disbelief.
It was on the tip of Harry's tongue to declare Malfoy was joking, but then he caught the predatory gleam in the other boy's eyes and realized the authenticity of the statement. Harry swallowed, his mouth had suddenly gone dry.
All this while, Draco's mind was racing, despite his calm exterior. His aims were simple.

**Break Potter, destroy his pride. And then, when he has accepted his position; to be at my beck and call, leave him. Leave him just when he thinks I want him. Imagine his self-esteem if his enemy doesn't think he's even worth exploiting. **

Draco congratulated himself on his brilliance.

**but, first move in the strategy: Humiliation. **

And with that in mind, he spoke.
"Come here and kiss me, Harry." It was a taunt, but Harry's name a breathless sigh.

"If you want something, Malfoy, you'll have to come over here and take it by force." Said Harry though gritted teeth. Though he was loath to admit it, Malfoy's use of his name had gifted him with an unwanted tremor of electricity.

Draco smiled.

"Oh no, Harry dear, YOU kiss ME, or I'll talk, and every teacher concerned with your safety will have their eye on you and you'll never be free to roam this school again." Draco was describing Harry's worst nightmare: constant, unwanted attention.

Harry clenched his jaw and took the first step towards Draco. Draco fancied he could see it; Harry losing his precious dignity with every step that brought them closer. And, taking in the anguished green eyes, drinking in the pained expression caused by him alone, Draco's mind could form only one triumphant word: **MINE. **
Harry was standing directly in front of Draco, his emerald eyes mirroring the cornered look of a threatened deer. He closed his eyes as though to deny the truth. With one hand flat against the door an either side of Draco's head, Harry leaned in and tentatively touched their lips together. Less than five seconds of hesitant contact and Harry was ready to withdraw. Draco felt him pulling back. **Oh no you don't** he thought, not willing to release his quarry.

Draco reached up, tangled his hand in the hair at the back of Harry's head and pulled him closer. Harry gave a startled gasp and Draco took advantage. Suddenly all Harry knew was Draco's lips hard and demanding against his own and Draco's tongue ruthlessly plundering his mouth. Draco smelled of cinnamon and tasted of mint and chocolate. Draco. Draco. Draco. He was everywhere all at once, his mastery in the intoxicating magic of lust evident. Just when Harry thought he was in sensory overload, Draco hooked a leg up around both of Harry's and brought Harry stumbling forward into hard contact with his body.

And suddenly there was no thought, no conscious decision. The only driving sentiment was to have more of each other. Harry pinned Draco to the door and registered in flashes of thought the long legs, the slim waist the butterfly-delicate collarbones. Draco arched up against Harry and Harry, despite his legendary will, allowed a low moan to slip forth, as incriminating as confession. It was all Draco needed, the fact that Harry enjoyed this would plague the hero's conscience more than any other thing.

It was Draco who then broke off the kiss. For a moment the sudden loss of contact was such a shock to his system that Harry refused to believe it was real. Reluctantly he opened his eyes to look directly into Draco's smoky, heavy-lidded gaze.

"So . . ." he said, his voice much lower and huskier than it should have been. He cleared his throat. "So, this is how it's going to be?" Harry tried to keep his voice as emotionless as possible.

"Yes, this is how it's going to be." Said Draco smugly. He licked his lips and watched with inner amusement as Harry's tongue swept along his own traitorous lips completely unconsciously.

"Wherever and whatever I want, whenever I want it."

Harry didn't meet his eyes but gave an almost imperceptible nod, opened the door and made his way dejectedly down the stairs. "Sweet dreams Harry" Draco called quietly after him, enjoying the way Harry's steps had faltered when Draco said his name.