The Bodyguard

AN: WH00t!I'm baaaaaack! After an EXTREMELY long hiatus, I'm back in business with a new chapter and more mischief for Harry/Leo to get into. *grin* Thank you to everyone who has been inquiring about this story--you're all awesome.

One thing before you read this chapter--a couple of people have emailed me about how possibly OOC Harry has been, what with kissing Hermione and all that. Part of it will be explained farther along in this chapter, and for the rest, let me just say that Harry is sixteen years old in this story. Since it's an AU, I'm going to take creative license and fill in the gaps. Harry's a good looking kid. He's also what we Muggles would consider a "jock". While he may dislike the attention about his scar, he's also only human, for all that he's a wizard. It has to be flattering--and you can be sure that if his fellow schoolmate fans are as...hm, forward as us fangirls, then his 'experience' doesn't have to be explained at all. -wink- I know most of you all own PoA on DVD by now and have seen the extras. I've got two words for you: "towel girl".

With that being said, here is Chapter 7 (finally!)

 

Chapter 7

Stifling a groan—he could clearly see the signs of Hurricane Hermione gathering for an impressive outburst—he grasped her firmly by the elbow and steered her out the first set of double doors he saw. Luckily, the doors led out onto an unoccupied balcony. They weren't completely private, but at least they were secluded enough that their conversation wouldn't be completely public, as it would've been in the ballroom. As soon as they were outside, she yanked her elbow from his hand and whirled around to face him. The sounds of the orchestra could still be heard faintly from inside.

“Well?” She demanded imperiously, her bearing as regal as any queen. He couldn't know that her anger was hiding a wealth of emotions, all tumbling one after another in her stomach; shock, fear, worry at what he was doing here, appearing out of no where after not hearing anything from him all summer, and at a Draco Malfoy's house party no less, were just a few of the many emotions doing acrobatics in her stomach. And underneath it all, pleasure. Little tingles still raced up and down her spine in reaction to that unexpected kiss and the feeling of his strong arm around her. The wide-eyed young boy she had met so many years ago on the train was gone, replaced by a confident, assured young man who knew very much what he was about. Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about that yet, although her body was reacting very favorably to the notion.

“Dance with me,” her ordered abruptly, swinging her easily back into his arms before she could protest. Instinctively she followed his lead, moving with him as if this was their millionth dance together instead of their first.

“Harry—“

“Relax,” he murmured, his warm breath ghosting over her neck and sending more chills down her spine. “We're supposed to be engaged, remember? Pureblood society rules dictates that we should be left alone to smooth out our troubles in private, rather than cause a scene in the middle of the ballroom. It's considered insufferably rude to be anything than in absolute control of your emotions.” She heard a thread of wry amusement in his tone before it hardened slightly. “We're also in the middle of a viper nest, so kindly stick to your role, Morgana, and I will to mine. I wish your friend Ryan out there had at least the presence of mind to think about what he was saying. Let's hope our generous host didn't overhear, otherwise we'll have some fast talking to do.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his shoulder, which was all she could see since he topped her by a good six inches. A glint of gold caught her eye briefly from the handkerchief folded hastily in his pocket, but she was too incensed to wonder about it. “Very well then, Tom, what in Hades are you doing here?” She demanded in a low tone, ignoring the sally about Robert for the moment. “I haven't heard from you all summer, haven't even seen Hedwig, and now you appear, in Draco Malfoy's house no less, without so much as a by-your-leave? Does Dum--Albus know you're here? Why haven't you written all summer? What's going on with the Order? Why haven't I heard from Ron? Is he okay? How—“

Harry stifled a grin, grateful she couldn't see his face, and let her run out of steam (and questions). When she paused to take a breath, he interjected, “I could ask some of the same things of you. This is definitely NOT one of your better ideas, Morgana.”

She sputtered. “Well you—I—we're not talking about me here! Seriously, Harry, what is going on? You're frightening me.”

Damn. He should've known she wouldn't be so easily distracted.

“Let's just say I was in the neighborhood and decided to drop in,” he replied blandly, knowing that was just going to irk her more and raise another torrent of questions. So, he swooped down again with the quickness of a hawk and kissed her once more, effectively cutting off any protests, questions, and train of thought she might have had for the moment. “I promise I'll answer any and all questions when we get out of here, but for now, can you please act like a besotted fiancé instead of a bewildered best friend? Our favorite Slytherin is coming this way,” he murmured under his breath, pasting a bright smile on his face.

She buried her face in his shoulder for a moment, and he felt her sigh heavily in exasperation before her shoulders straightened. Lifting her chin resolutely, she turned so that she was shoulder to shoulder with him and looped her arm through his; as much for silent support as a precaution to hold him back in case Malfoy made any of his usual sneering comments.

They had both forgotten, however, that they were in disguise. Although Robert had called her by her given name during his confrontation with Harry, he had introduced her to Draco and everyone else as Morgana, and Harry had managed to convince the doorman that the name on the invitation was an associate of his who was unavoidably detained at the last minute, and called Harry—er, Tom, to go in his place. Therefore, both Hermione and Harry were shocked to see Draco Malfoy approach them with a charming smile on his lips and a glass of Cristal champagne in each hand.

“Morgana, there you are!” He said heartily, offering her one of the glasses. “And—you're not Michael Montgomery.” His eyes narrowed. “I'm sorry, I don't believe we've been introduced.”

“Draco, this is Tom, Tom Cruise,” Hermione interjected smoothly before Harry could answer. Her voice was husky with a hint of arrogance, a complete opposite from the exasperated, annoyed, disdainfully impatient one she usually took with Malfoy. “He's—“

“Her fiancé,” Harry finished smoothly, holding out his hand. “I apologize for not introducing myself earlier; I was somewhat…distracted.” He glanced pointedly at Hermione, a rueful smile flitting about his lips.

Hermione wanted to wipe that male to male smirk off of both of their lips.

“Quite alright,” Draco replied genially, holding out his hand for Harry to shake. “Welcome to my little get together. I can already see you're a man of impeccable taste by the lovely beauty of your bride-to-be.” He inclined his head in Hermione's direction, and she forced a smile. Harry grasped his hand briefly, and let it drop, hiding his revulsion.

"She is, indeed, that and so much more.  So tell me, Mr. Malfoy, do you host these types of parties often?  After all, the Malfoy name is known for it's proprieties and prestige."  Harry was laying it on so thick he was going to need some knee high muck boots and a shovel by the time this was over.

He was, apparently, doing a good job though.  From the look on that smug, pit-viper's face, Malfoy was really eating it up.  "Not too often, I'm afraid.  Though the family funds are more than equipped to handle such things in frequency, we don't want to seem immodest.” Narrowed silver eyes took in Harry's elegant tuxedo. Luckily for him, he and the man he had accosted were of similar size. “You understand, I'm sure.”

"Mmm," Harry answered vaguely, gritting his teeth as Hermione's nails dug warningly into his arm.

Hermione was fuming. Not only did she have to stand there and look pretty while Harry and Draco Malfoy of all people exchanged small talk over her head, but she still hadn't gotten any answers! Every time she had tried, Harry had successfully managed to 'distract' her somehow; with a kiss, or a lingering caress on the small of her back. She was still trying to catch her breath from the last one long enough to think, let alone speak! And when did he become so touchy-feely? It wasn't like they were dating or anything--he had never even hinted that he was interested in her as more than a friend!

Before she could give her 'fiancée' a piece of her mind--Draco Malfoy or no--someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to see Robert standing there.

"Cruise, since you seem to be otherwise occupied, do you mind if I steal your lady away for a bit?" he said, a bright, glassy expression on his face. Behind him, the clock chimed a  quarter to midnight.

Hermione glanced over at Harry, who was still chatting away with Malfoy. She nudged him, hard. "Tom, sweetheart, Robert was asking you a question."

"Hm? Oh." The dislike was evident on Harry's face, although it couldn't be seen because of his mask. Hermione could tell, though, by the way he tensed under her hand and his green eyes noticeably cooled. "That is up to the lady, of course, but I have no problems with it," he lied easily, hoping against hope that Hermione wasn't so pissed still that she would willingly go off on the arm of this cobra.

No such luck. She immediately slipped out of his grasp to accept Crawford's offered hand. "You and Draco have fun, darling," she said brightly. "Perhaps when I return you and I can have another little talk."

Before he could reply, she swanned off with her nose in the air. Harry glared after her, barely resisting the urge to growl. A muffled cough from his companion had him turning the glare on him. Draco held up both hands in defense.

"She's very...independent, isn't she?" He commented, struggling to hide a grin.

"That's one way of putting it," Harry replied sourly. Stubborn, independent, bloody GRYFFINDOR female is another!

"So, have you two known each other long, then? Or was this an arranged marriage?"

With a sigh, Harry settled back to the conversation, keeping one eye on the couple now whirling around the dance floor. "We've known each other since we were eleven," he replied guardedly. "We usually get along quite well, when she's not trying to prove a point." He took a swig of his drink.

"Ah. Yes. Crawford." Draco took a sip as well, following Harry's gaze to the dance floor. Hermione threw her head back and laughed at something Robert said. "A bit of advice, if you'll take it."

Harry arched a curious brow. If Draco Malfoy was unbending enough to offer advice to a stranger about a fellow pureblood, then it was surely something to take into consideration.

"Crawford isn't one for being spurned in public. The fact that you took Morgana out from under his nose isn't going to sit well with him," the Slytherin said bluntly. "Watch your back. But, more importantly, watch hers."

Harry studied him for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I believe its time that I have that little talk with my fiancée." He smiled coldly and held out his glass. "If you'll excuse me?"

Malfoy's smile was predatory as he took the glass and saluted him. "Happy hunting."

Harry nodded acknowledgement and stalked off. He made it to the other side of the dance floor just in time to encounter Crawford strolling back out.

"Ho there, Crawford!" He called, causing the other man to halt. "I wonder if you might know where Morgana has gone? It's about time for us to be off."

The other man smiled, his eyes dark. "She's in the library," he replied, waving his hand down the hallway.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Should've known," he said wryly. "Thanks." He watched the other man walk away, noting the slight stiffness in his stride, before continuing. As soon as he was out of sight of the ballroom, he quickly changed back to Leo. He felt a flash of worry over the hastily scrubbed off gold makeup, but shrugged it off. He had more important things to worry about.

Sticking to the shadows, he padded slowly down the hall, senses alert for any danger. Heavy footsteps had him flattened against the wall. He wrinkled his nose as the foul odor of B.O. assaulted his nose. Fighting to keep from sneezing, he rolled his eyes as Crabbe and Goyle tromped by.

"So where is this Cruise guy Crawford wants us to pound?" Crabbe complained.

Harry was impressed that he had actually managed to string together an entire sentence.

"I dunno. Must've gone back out to the ball room. C'mon. The girl isn't going anywhere, and there's food in the kitchen." Goyle replied, and their footsteps faded down the hall.

Wow. Malfoy did wonders with them, Harry thought sardonically. I wonder if they can count to ten without using their toes now? Apparently being a goon had its perks; you were never out of work. He had heard that Draco had gotten tired of them for some reason or another over the summer. Obviously they had found a new crony in the form of Robert Crawford.

Inwardly shrugging, Harry continued down the hall. His sensitive ears caught the muffled sound of someone struggling in the room at the end. While still out of sight, he shifted back to Harry-form long enough to perform a fast "Alohomora" charm and check for any other guards or traps before cautiously opening the door..

He found Hermione with her hands tied securely behind her back, a gag over her mouth and a blindfold over her eyes and breathed a quick sigh of relief. He tapped her twice on her right shoulder, a sign he, Ron, and Hermione had devised long ago as an "all clear". She immediately froze.

"It's okay," he whispered, untying her gag and fighting with her bonds for a moment. "Dammit! They spelled the ropes!"

"Harry! What are you doing here? Are you nuts? She hissed. "Crabbe and Goyle are working for Robert, and he's working for Lucius Malfoy, who will be here any second!"

"Well I'm not exactly planning on sticking around!" he retorted. "Do you know what spell they used? And where's your wand?"

"No--they knocked me out," she replied grimly, and he noticed a large bruise on one cheek. He gritted his teeth and fought the rage down. "There's a slit in my dress on my right thigh--that's where my wand is. They're supposed to check your wands at the door, but the doorman, was, ahem, somewhat distracted--" her eyes widened. "That's it! Leo!"

Harry did his best to look confused. "Who's Leo?"

"Leo is a cat-a magical cat that I kind of adopted from work this summer," she answered distractedly. "I'll tell you about it later. Anyway, he considers me his property, or something; he's very intelligent, almost like an Animagus more than a animal."

Harry held his breath as she mulled that over. "Anyway, he wasn't allowed inside, so he's outside somewhere waiting for me. I know him; he wouldn't have wandered off!"

"Hermione, get to the point," he urged, still fiddling with the ropes.

"The point," she snapped. "Is that you're an Animagus, which means you can talk to animals like Leo. Remember how Crookshanks helped Sirius? All you have to do is find him and tell him to go home and fetch my Swiss Army knife! It's sitting on my dresser, next to my jewelry box. The ropes are magicked, but I bet they aren't spelled against a Muggle thing like a Swiss Army knife!"

"But Malfoy--"

"I can deal with Lucius Malfoy," she interrupted firmly. "He may be evil, but he's also an arrogant snake. He likes to talk and drag things out for his victims. I'll just work with that."

Harry heard the tremor in her voice and knew she was really scared to death. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised, and kissed her hard on the mouth before replacing the gag. "I loosened the ropes a little, so you have some leverage."

Missing her shocked expression, he slipped to the window, unlocked it, and was gone.

***

Despite his worry, Harry smirked to himself as he cut across the Malfoy property back toward Hermione's house. The week before coming to live with Hermione as 'Leo', he and Lupin had come up with some emergency diversion and 'distraction" tactics. The first thing Lupin did was made Harry confront his feelings toward Hermione and admit them out loud....

"I know how you feel, Harry. I imagine everyone knows, except perhaps you and Hermione. And I suspect you know as well--you just haven't admitted it out loud to yourself."

Harry grimaced. "I--I love her. She's my best friend, my partner. I'd trust her with my life--I have trusted her with my life, numerous times over. She knows me, better than anyone else except perhaps Ron." He sighed heavily. "Of course, that goes the other way as well. You do realize that she's going to kill me when she finds out? And then come after YOU for agreeing to such a foolhardy plan?"

Lupin nodded. "Which is why you and I are going to come up with a plan to make sure she can't kill you before you can explain everything." He grinned at Harry's shocked expression, eyes suddenly alight with mischief. "Just because your father and Sirius were notorious for their pranks and plans, doesn't mean I can't come up with something as well. I AM a Marauder, you know..."

Which was why Harry had appeared as he had, playing the besotted fiancée "Tom Cruise" and doing his best to keep Hermione distracted and off balance while still dealing with Malfoy and keeping an eye on Crawford. Forget worrying about Voldemort coming after him--his best friend was going to be the death of him before the Dark Lord would ever get another shot at him.

***

Back in the Malfoy library, Hermione had managed to wiggle her way to the window from which Harry had just escaped. She had intended to just keep an eye out as he changed, assuming that once he took flight he'd be too high for anyone to see in the darkness. To her surprise, a familiar large feline padded away from the window before melting into the darkness. Her jaw dropped. Harry was...LEO? Her eyes narrowed as all the missing pieces began to fall into place.

"The whole time, that was...I'll kill him," she muttered dangerously, fighting with her bonds in her rage. "So help me, if I get out of this, I'll kill him myself!"

***

What a great way to start off the new year, no? -grin- Yes, I know I'm evil. However, Chapter 8 is already started and will hopefully be finished sometime this week. And just remember, if I'm not in one piece, I can't write! -backs away from angry mob-… OH! One more thing: I usually post at my site http://tarnished-innocence.org before I post here or PK. So, ya know, if you want to start checking there….