Title: Caught by Mischief Managed
Author: Kiristeen ke Alaya
Series: "Mischief Managed" 2nd story
Pairings: DM/HP, minor DM/BZ
Codes: Slash, Dom/sub, minor bondage
Rating: NC-17 for graphic slash sex, and adult situations
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Chapter One
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Draco quietly, carefully, closed the portrait to the Slytherin common room behind him, breathing out a sigh of relief. He'd made it back without being caught.
"Draco?"
Draco jumped and spun around, heart triple-beating unevenly. "Bloody Hell, Zabini! You startled the life out of me, you prat!" He couldn't make out his housemate's features, but knew very well who it was, and it was the very person he had a very large bone to pick with. " *You*," he said purposefully, "are in *so* much trouble."
Blaise chuckled and stepped forward.
Draco didn't think he'd forget the lightening fast change of Blaise Zabini's expression any time soon, it was startling enough that it cut off his irate rant at the outset. "What?" he demanded abruptly.
"Merlin's Robe, Draco!" he breathed incredulously. "You followed him in!"
And now Draco remembered why, exactly, he was so angry. "Didn't exactly have a choice, now *did* I?" he hissed, only barely remembering to keep his voice low enough not to disturb anyone sleeping in any of the dorms. Having Zabini see him like this was bad enough. Unfortunately, his damned clothing hadn't reverted yet.
"Son of a bitch, Draco! I expected you would follow him to the front club, figure out he was going to a gay club and hightail it out there faster than you could think, 'I'm going to strangle Blaise.' If I'd thought you would actually want to go in, I'd have patroned you myself." Blaise frowned then, as apparently something Draco had said registered. "What do you mean by not having a choice? Of course you had a choice!"
"I sodding well did not," Draco retorted angrily. "In an *alley*, he used some sort of password-protected, permanent portkey that led directly to this ante-chamber to the club from hell. After I'd copied him, I was *stuck*." Eyes flashing as he challenged the one Slytherin he'd considered almost trustworthy, now wondering whether he'd been right to do so. Though, he had to admit the evening hadn't turned out as badly as he was making it out, it could have been . . . horrific. Draco shuddered as an image of Randolph's leering face flashed through his mind. "Some of the people in there are just plain *sick*, mate!"
Blaise's eyes widened in horror. "Are you alright?"
Draco snorted. Was he 'alright'? He wasn't entirely sure about that. "I didn't get hurt, if that's what you're asking, *Blaise*."
Blaise frowned, glancing around apprehensively. "Look, we can't talk here. Come on?"
Draco nodded. He wasn't sure at this point how much he was going to reveal, but he *really* needed to talk to someone, and Blaise was pretty much his only choice at this point. The two of them headed up to the 7th year dorms, both remaining silent until by unspoken agreement they chose Draco's bed to pull the curtains on.
Blaise quickly cast obscurement and privacy charms. The moment the spells took effect, Blaise looked Draco directly in the eyes. "I'm *so* sorry, Draco. I had no idea he had a private way of getting in."
Draco snorted. He'd thought a lot about that on the way back from the tunnel. "Fat lot of good some secrecy code would do, if Harry Frigging Potter walked into the place where everyone and the next reporter could watch him do it. It'd be all over the prophet by the next morning."
"Good point. I hadn't thought of that."
"I have to admit I'm curious how he managed it the first time he went."
Blaise looked away and the proverbial light bulb went off in Draco's mind.
"Son of a bitch! Tell me I'm wrong."
Blaise sighed and looked back up at him, but didn't say a word.
"*You* were his patron!" Draco wasn't sure if the words were an accusation or an epiphany. Either way, it tilted his world view a bit. "Since when are you and Potter friends?" he demanded angrily.
Blaise, taking in a deep breath. "We're not, not really."
"I see you didn't deny the first part," Draco replied angrily.
Shaking his head, Blaise look a little sad at that, something that Draco didn't understand at all. "Draco, over the time we've actively been friends, I've kept things from you, I've implied a whole bloody lot, but I have *never* lied to you."
Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"It's true. There are too many ways to get around not giving away truths to bother lying. Lying gets you into trouble when you have to remember who knows what. So, I don't do it."
**Never lied to me?** Draco carefully considered Blaise, sitting on the foot of his bed, leaning against one of the bedposts, and tried to think of a single time he'd caught the other Slytherin in a lie. Several minutes passed, but Draco could not think of a single time. Maybe the guy hadn't. It was certainly a novel concept. He drew his lower lip between his teeth and for the very first time *ever* considered confiding in someone.
As Draco debated with himself, Blaise began to speak, quietly and evenly.
"I started going during the summer," he said. "I'd just admitted to myself that I really preferred blokes. Girls, well, I can take or leave them."
Draco's eyes widened. It was one thing to admit to enjoying sex where and when it came; it was another thing entirely to admit that guys were pretty much it. He kept silent, though, not wanting to interrupt Blaise's . . . confession.
"I met someone there. We spent the next two weeks really getting to know one another, and it didn't take long for him to figure out my kinks. As it turns out, he had the same ones, which," and here, Blaise smirked a bit sheepishly, "didn't work out so well. But he introduced me to 'the club'. I've been going ever since."
A silence fell between them and for several seconds Draco didn't disturb it. Soon, though, his curiosity got the better of him. "How does Potter come into it?" he asked, this time sounding far less accusatory. He really did want to know, which surprised the hell out of him. But that wasn't exactly a new feeling tonight; he'd been experiencing that a lot.
"Snuck out of school about a week after the start of term this year," Blaise chuckled. "It was the first time I'd done it, ever. I remember feeling like the king of the world. Merlin, Draco! I felt like a bloody Gryffindor, like I could get away with *anything*." He shook his head, pausing before he continued. "Until about twenty seconds after I entered the front club."
"What happened?" Draco asked, leaning forward, eyes blazing with intense curiosity.
"I strode in, cock of the walk, slipped onto a barstool and ordered a drink. The bartender made it, and as he handed it to me, I nodded graciously. . . ."
"Yes?"
"I turned to the bloke sitting on the stool next to me and found myself staring into the absolutely *greenest* eyes I've ever seen."
"Bloody hell!" Draco exclaimed, suddenly very grateful for the privacy charm. "Potter!"
Smirking, Blaise nodded. "Yup. Thought I was busted for sure."
"I'd have been writing my last will and testament, I think," Draco offered.
Snorting in loud laughter, Blaise agreed. "Oh, yeah, that about covers it. Truth be told, my dad doesn't care much about lineage -- though I'll deny *that* up to and past my dying breath -- but get him to talking about 'queers'?" Blaise shuddered dramatically.
Draco was in absolute shock. Sure, the whole preferring guys thing was pretty out there, blackmail material of the highest order, but the *other*, Merlin's ghost! Blaise had virtually handed him his life just now. He wasn't sure what to think about that. Blinking, he risked a look directly at Blaise, and realized suddenly, that he'd done it on purpose. It wasn't an accidental slip. Blaise had known exactly what he was doing.
Now the ball was in his court. Did he use the knowledge to his advantage? Did he keep it to himself. Or did he put himself out on that same extremely fragile limb? Draco was surprised to discover he was shaking. He was good at planning things, using knowledge to his advantage. This, he knew nothing about. He'd never bothered, never even considered opening himself up to someone else.
Blaise just sat there, waiting.
Shifting uneasily, Draco picked at nonexistent lint. "How accurate is that stupid scanner?"
"I've never seen it wrong, Draco," Blaise replied.
"But you haven't been going there that long. You said since the summer."
"Yeah, but people talk. No one I talked to remembered it ever being wrong."
Draco sighed. That'd been his last bastion of hope.
//Like you didn't enjoy tonight!//
**Beside the point!**
//Like hell it is!//
**Sod off!**
"I was afraid you'd say that," Draco sighed, ignoring his inner debate.
"What happened?"
Draco tensed instantly, his first instinct to tell Blaise just what he could do with his question. But. . . .
Closing his eyes, Draco leaned back against the wall and began to tell the story, bit by agonizing bit. He was thankful that Blaise managed to keep his mouth shut -- although the hastily stifled gasps didn't exactly help. When he'd finished, Blaise whistled softly and Draco snapped his eyes open glaring angrily.
"Damn, but he got good fast!" Blaise breathed, incredulous.
"I thought you bloody well patroned him!" Draco accused.
"I did," Blaise confirmed. "All that means is that I made sure he knew the rules and watched out for him his first few trips." Blaise shrugged. "After that, we agreed we'd take separate nights, so we wouldn't cramp each other's style."
Draco's breath froze in his chest. He so much wanted to jump out of his bed and pace. Unfortunately, if he did that, he ran the risk of waking his dorm-mates -- and right now, that was something to be avoided at all costs.
He jumped, startled, as his clothes suddenly transformed.
"Thank Merlin!" Blaise exclaimed, suddenly relaxing a tension that Draco hadn't even realized was still present.
His jaw dropping open, he could feel himself blushing . . . *horribly*. He hadn't even *thought* about what Blaise's preferences would have been. **And now would be a good time for some kind of crisis,** he thought facetiously, **an earthquake perhaps?**
.
