Fic: What Are Words For? (3/6)
Nov. 11th, 2007 08:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salixbabylonTitle: What Are Words For?
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
salixbabylon
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Prompt: "Words" – Missing Persons, part of the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
ficrocksthe80s fest
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4564
Disclaimer: JKR owns everything. I just like to play naughty games with her dollies.
Summary: "Six months after the end of the war Harry decided, admittedly in a fit of pique, that he wasn't going to talk any more."
Author's Notes: Surprisingly mostly canon compliant, even with DH. Only I didn't kill Fred because that's just wrong. Also warning = plot! Not my usual PWP-fare. Tons of thanks to my beloved beta,sarka *smooch*
(Part 1, Part 2)
What Are Words For?
Draco came by late the next morning with scones and a parcel from Flourish and Blotts. A bit warily, Harry accepted the gift and opened it to find a box of parchment and a new quill made from pheasant feather. Draco had even included a bottle of ink – black with a hint of green when Harry held the bottle up to the light.
"They're for your letters," he said, as if they'd only just been talking about the subject a moment ago rather than the night before. "I'm going to give it a try, too."
Harry nodded his thanks, although a strange feeling fluttered around his insides and he wasn't sure if it was a result of thinking about writing the letters, or because Malfoy was standing so awfully close.
It was a brief visit, since Draco had a meeting with the family solicitors at noon - which was good, as Harry was expecting Ron and Hermione for lunch. Indeed, it seemed like he only spent a few hours flipping through musty smelling old books and decidedly not thinking about Draco before the wards on the Floo were chiming to let him know that someone was coming through. He greeted his friends and went downstairs to fetch their lunch
He wasn't gay. Malfoy was just... pretty. Anyone would think so.
Probably.
When Harry returned, levitating a tray of sandwiches, he had a moment of deja vu; Ron was standing in front of the backboard, reading it with a puzzled expression on his face. Hermione seemed a bit surprised as well. Harry made a mental note to remember to erase the bloody thing more often.
"Uh, Harry, mate, is there anything you'd like to tell us?" Ron asked.
Harry looked at the diagram from the night before: another stick figure masterpiece, clearly labeled with his name and Draco's and the cursed upstairs rug. Several spells were listed to the side, as possibilities. They'd had a very productive brainstorming session.
"Is something going on?" Hermione probed.
The first thought that popped into Harry's head was, oddly, the worry that his friends could somehow tell that he might be queer. This was followed by a swift bit of logic, aided by Ron scowling and poking at the chalk that spelled "
." Unfortunately, rather than soothing his blood pressure even just the sight of the name made Harry's crotch tingle, which trigged a memory of last night's unbelievably fantastic wank. He tried not to flush and took a few deep breaths to calm down.
A couple of flicks of his wand had an abbreviated version of the story on the blackboard. He outlined returning Malfoy's wand, the Disarming, the thank you gifts, the visits and the developing friendship. And yes, even the use of Draco's name. He wrote in response to Ron's rather predictable insults that no, Malfoy hadn't totally changed, but that he was kind of fun to hang out with anyhow and really quite helpful with unraveling the Dark curses around the house.
"He was the one who told you how to access the library, wasn't he?" Hermione asked suddenly.
Harry nodded.
"So this has been happening for a while, then?" Ron asked. "When were you going to tell us?"
Harry shrugged and gestured to the "
" still written on the slate.
Both of his friends gave him skeptical looks.
"We come here at least three times a week. Surely you could have brought it up," Hermione said.
They were right but Harry still scowled at them anyway.
"Well, so long as you're on your guard," Ron said, clearly not wanting to talk about Malfoy any more than he had to. "I know you can hold your own against him; never beaten you yet, has he? I just wonder what the little ferret wants from you..."
Glad to let the matter drop, Harry just shrugged and nudged a packet of chocolate biscuits towards Ron. Hermione gave him one last penetrating look, then shrugged her shoulders and began flipping through the books he and Draco had left lying around.
A short while later, after Ron and Harry had finished a game of chess that was much closer than usual (Harry's game had improved a lot from all of his practice with Draco), his friends made to leave. Hermione took him aside for a moment on the way out, while they waited for Ron to use the toilet.
"Harry..." she started, then paused. "Um. Malfoy's been coming over for almost a month now, hasn't he?"
Uncomfortable with where she might be going, he nodded warily.
"He bought you that parchment on the desk, right? For the letters. So that means he came over just yesterday, after we left."
Harry nodded and his face flushed, again trying not to think about the night before or tingle inappropriately anywhere.
"Is there anything else you want to tell me, Harry?"
He shook his head vehemently.
Hermione gave him a look. "Well, if there ever is, you know you can talk to me, right?"
He nodded. Ron saved him from whatever Hermione was going to say next by bustling down the stairs.
"Ready to go, then?" he asked, taking her hand.
She smiled at Ron and leaned forward to hug Harry, giving him a kiss on cheek. "I love you very much Harry. I want you to be happy."
Ron gave her a baffled look and glanced at Harry, who kept his expression carefully blank.
"Um, yeah. Right. Thanks for lunch, Harry. See you!" he said, pulling his girlfriend with him with the transparent intention of questioning her the moment they got home.
Harry shut the door behind them with a sinking feeling. Hermione knew something was up. It wouldn't be long until she had it all figured out.
*****
A few days later Harry was roused from his contemplation of the shelves in the library by an insistent pounding at the front door. He flung it open to find one Draco Malfoy, looking like a drowned rat. It was utterly pouring outside and for reasons Harry couldn't imagine, Draco had neither umbrella, nor hat, nor coat, and had apparently also forgotten he was a wizard and could have cast a water-repelling charm on himself or his clothes.
"Well? Are you going to let me in?"
Harry gave him a thoughtful look, staring pointedly at the water pudding around Draco"s feet.
"Fuck off, Potter. Let me in!" he insisted.
Harry sighed and held the door open, stepping back to let him enter.
Draco immediately made for the stairs, calling out over his shoulder, "I'm freezing my bollocks off. I'm using your shower. I hope that's all right, and if it's not, too fucking bad - I don't care."
Harry tried not to laugh as the swearing grew more distant while Draco made his way upstairs, and took a moment to ponder the oddness of Malfoy barging into his house and demanding a bath as if they had been friends forever. Well, they'd known each other forever and he supposed that was something. And it was sort of pleasant that Draco felt so comfortable in his house.
Harry was in the drawing room trying to decide whether tea or whisky would be more appropriate at this time in the afternoon. He'd summoned Kreacher to help clean up the puddles of water in the hall and was having trouble deciding what to do next.
"Can I borrow some clothes?" came from the doorway.
Harry turned, looking up, and almost dropped his wand at the sight he beheld. Draco was naked, apart from a rather small towel held loosely around his waist by one hand. Drops of water slowly trickled from his hair and down his body. A flash of arousal surged through Harry and he wrenched his eyes away from the tempting display with difficulty.
Flicking his wand at the blackboard as if the sight of all that ivory flesh hadn't instantly made him hard, he wrote, "
"
Draco gave him a withering glare. "Drying spells leave my hair all wrong and then I have to resort to using something like Sleekeazy's."
"
" Harry grinned.
The glare continued. "Do you really want to have a conversation about bad hair, Potter?"
Cringing, Harry shook his head no.
"So, can I borrow some clothes, then? Or should I just lounge around in this towel until mine finish drying?" Draco asked. "Oh, and can you have Kreacher clean them? They're in a heap on the floor of your bath," he added as an afterthought.
With a roll of his eyes, Harry tapped the elf's name, Summoning him again, and let Malfoy make his request. As usual, Kreacher seemed more than happy to do anything he could for "young Master Malfoy."
That done, the two young men traipsed up the stairs to Harry's bedroom. He breathed a sigh of relief that he was leading the way, so he didn't have to "not-look" at Draco's towel clad arse all the way up. And then Draco was mostly naked, in his room. Where he'd wanked. Over Draco.
Harry's palms were sweating, his heart was beating hard, and it was taking an unbelievable amount of effort to simply breathe without making any sounds as he started pulling clothes out of the drawers and the wardrobe.
Draco, totally unselfconscious, began drying off.
Harry tried not to stare.
Harry failed.
He failed so spectacularly that Draco noticed – and despite the fact that Harry had obviously broken the strict Boys' Code of Not Staring at Each Other When You're Starkers, Draco's reaction was a surprise. Rather than taking the piss or simply punching him, he gave Harry a grin that probably could have been classified as "seductive", and almost certainly would have been, if seduction had been at all necessary.
"Like what you see?" he said in his familiar, challenging drawl.
Despite making a valiant effort not to, Harry could tell that his entire face had gone red before he turned away, shrugging. This had the double purpose of making it clear that he wasn't looking and making sure that Draco couldn't see the obvious bulge in his jeans.
What was wrong with him? His body had never felt so out of control, not even when he first hit puberty and got hard whenever the wind blew. He tried not to whimper as he caught a sliver of pale skin reflected in the mirror across the room.
Flinging all vestiges of Gryffindorish courage to the wayside, Harry fled from his bedroom to the safety of books, the library, cursed furniture, and other normal things that didn't involve a flirtatious, semi-naked Draco.
Harry was so unsettled that he dropped the armload of books he was carrying from the library to the drawing room when Draco snuck up behind him in the hall a few minutes later.
"I don't exactly mind if you were checking me out," he said in a voice half-teasing and half-serious. "It's not like you'd be the first; I am quite good looking."
Resisting the urge to throw one of the books he was picking up off the floor at Draco, Harry gave him a doubtful look.
"What?" Draco asked. "I'm incredibly gorgeous. Tons of other blokes have checked me out. You're one of the lucky few privileged enough to have seen me au naturel."
Harry managed to keep his face from coloring but he couldn't entirely hide his surprise at the ease with which Malfoy alluded to gay men. They went back to the drawing room and Draco Summoned the decanter of scotch and two glasses.
Drinking a healthy swallow, Draco gave him a thoughtful look. "You're not homophobic, are you, Potter? I don't see at all how someone can be so pro-Muggleborns and yet have a problem with gay sex," he said in a challenging tone. "Lots of wizards are gay or bisexual. Even my Great Uncle Asmodeus Malfoy had a male lover. My father might not particularly care for it but most purebloods don't raise too much of a fuss so long as the family line is carried on." Draco made a face, then added in a quieter voice, "I still haven't figured out what I'm going to do about that yet..."
Harry gulped his own glass of the strong liquor, trying not to cough as it burned down to his stomach. He could hardly believe Draco was being so nonchalant about the topic. Well, if it wasn't a big deal to him, then maybe Harry should just ask.
"
"
"I don't really like to limit myself," Draco answered with a bit of a smirk. "Wizards, witches, whatever. Hardly anyone is good enough for me as it is – I'd hate to eliminate half my possibilities just based on gender," he said in a mocking tone.
Harry made a face at him and sipped his scotch again, grateful for its calming properties. His heart was still hammering away inside his chest but he didn't think he was blushing anymore.
At least he wasn't until Draco flopped down onto the sofa in a languid sprawl and asked with a bit of a smile, "So what about you then? Aren't you still with the Weaslette?"
Harry scowled but then ruined it by sitting down right next to Draco and refilling both of their glasses.
"Well? That was quite a lascivious look upstairs for someone still with a girlfriend. Doesn't she put out?" he taunted.
Harry shoved him a bit. "
" he wrote with a flick of his wand.
"Ah ha. So you do bat for the other team then, eh?" Draco said, sliding closer to Harry with a leer.
Harry choked on his drink in surprise and spent the next few minutes coughing.
Draco laughed at him. "I kind of figured you were queer, since you never really seemed to date anyone other than Weasley's little sister. Seemed pretty obvious that she was just a substitute for dating the Weasel himself, since he's so obviously smitten with Granger."
Harry's eyes widened. "
"
"Well then, have you managed to get laid yet?" Draco asked, still chuckling at Harry's vehement response.
Flustered by the audaciously bold questions, Harry could feel his face flushing again as he shook his head no. He took a fortifying swallow of scotch and wrote, "
"
Draco shrugged. "Well, I did have a girlfriend for most of school, you know. I was with Pansy forever and she assumed we were going to get married, so of course I did everything she'd let me. Not quite everything, but we did some stuff until, uh, I got a bit too busy to pay attention to her in 6th year," he said, fumbling a bit. He and Harry never really discussed their past, by mutual unspoken agreement.
"Anyway, that year, when I was too busy for her, I messed about with a friend a few times to see what it was like with boys." Draco shrugged again. "It was good. He was much better at some things than Pansy was."
Harry wanted to ask to ask how good it was, and who this unnamed boy was, and what he was better at doing than Pansy had been, but he was too embarrassed to write those questions on the blackboard. He took another sip of his drink and tried to let the liquor soothe his jumbled thoughts.
They sat in silence, staring off into space for a while, each lost in his own thoughts. It was a comfortable silence, surprisingly.
"I should be going," Draco said after a while. "Kreacher?" he called.
The elf popped into the drawing room, arms already laden with Malfoy's clothes, now clean and dry. Taking the bundle into his arms, Draco told Harry he would return the clothes he was wearing next time he came over.
Harry nodded his agreement and they headed out toward the staircase.
"I see you haven't touched that box of parchment yet," Draco observed, stopping at the desk near the door. "What's the matter; you don't like pheasant feather quills?"
Harry gave him an apologetic look, feeling a bit guilty. He'd meant to start writing but every time he thought about it he decided to work on the hexes and curses for the house instead.
Draco's look was understanding, even a bit sympathetic. "Give it a try," he urged. "What can it hurt? If it doest work you don't have to do it; it's not a homework assignment."
Fair point, Harry thought. He nodded, resolving to try it later, perhaps that very evening.
When they reached the Floo, Draco stumbled a bit and caught himself by grabbing onto Harry. He hadn't thought Draco was quite that pissed, but it felt rather nice to be touched all the same.
Very nice.
The hand on his shoulder gave a little squeeze. "And now I must take my leave," he said in a very formal and pompous tone that made Harry grin.
He waved farewell and Draco grinned back for a moment, then threw a handful of powder onto the fire and left for his Manor. Harry wandered back to the drawing room and finished his glass of scotch, staring into the fireplace and thinking about it all.
It had been a very strange day.
But a good one, Harry decided. He'd had a conversation about being gay. He'd seen Draco naked. He'd learned Draco sometimes messed around with other boys.
A very good day, indeed.
*****
Writing letters to the dead was more of a challenge that Harry had anticipated. He had a few false starts, then finally decided to begin with a letter to Sirius, since he'd at least had some experience corresponding with Padfoot before.
He went through several sheets of parchment just trying to get started; every time he got going he seemed to get angry and start writing about how frustrated he had been (and evidently still was) that Sirius had behaved so recklessly. It was so difficult to get past it that finally Harry just left a long rant about Sirius' impulsiveness and how getting killed was practically his own bloody fault anyway, before he could get to the bits about how much he missed his godfather.
He wrote for a long time, filling up several sheets, and added to it over the course of the day between other tasks. He wrote that it felt odd, living in Sirius' house without him. That he wished he'd been able to know his godfather better. That he wished Sirius' life had turned out differently, and that it wasn't fair that it had been so twisted and stunted by Voldemort and Azkaban and so many events out of Sirius' control.
It was a gut-wrenching letter to write and Harry felt exhausted and drained by the time he finished it, his eyes still a bit moist at the corners.
But he did feel a bit better. He'd ranted and raved and accused and apologized for forgetting about the two-way mirror and finally, at the end, told Sirius how much he missed him. That he was the only father Harry had really ever had. That he'd loved him.
After a few days' break, he tackled the letters to Tonks and Moody and Colin Creevey, and got all three of those finished in the same day, as they were fairly short goodbyes. By the end of the week he'd also written Remus' letter, which had been about as difficult as he'd anticipated it would be, and left him feeling miserable for the better part of two days. Hermione came by to oh-so-helpfully assure him that this was a normal response and he just barely managed to refrain from hexing her. Just because it was "normal" didn't make it hurt any bloody bit less.
His friends did their best to cheer him up, which was equal parts thoughtful and annoying. He had a flux of visitors again and his evenings were rarely free. The twins even stopped by for supper and an offer to Harry to become their Quality Control Officer, which he declined once he'd sussed that they meant "paid guinea pig."
They also flirted with him a bit more and this time Fred actually did sneak a grope in, just before the twins left. Harry's body responded favorably but not with the same blinding-hot flash of lust that just sitting next to Draco had produced. Although he avoided thinking about that aspect, he did spend some time getting used to the idea that he might be queer or at the very least bisexual.
It wasn't as disturbing a thought as it would have been a couple of months ago.
*****
After an absence of over a week, Harry was greeted at breakfast by Tiberius, with a note from Draco. His mother's trial had gone favorably, he said, and suggested a celebratory dinner out if Harry would join him.
Harry replied that he'd like to, but he couldn't visualize Draco in a Muggle restaurant and he didn't want to go to any Wizarding ones because he'd be recognized and harassed. Draco sent Tiberius back with a note saying he knew the perfect place and to trust him. Harry smiled a bit wryly to himself before writing his reply and agreeing to let Draco Floo over to Grimmmauld Place and they could Apparate together from there.
At eight o'clock on the dot, Draco stepped through the Floo. Harry was glad of the training that the Silence Resolution had given him, as it kept him from whimpering aloud. Draco was wearing relatively normal clothes: dark trousers, a pale shirt, and very nice robes which were cut almost like a frock-coat. They looked like something Professor Snape might have worn but clung to Draco's torso and exposed his long legs in a way that made Harry drool.
Feeling very under-dressed in his usual robes, Harry allowed himself to be Side-Alonged to a small Wizarding restaurant in Lacock, in Wiltshire.
Draco rolled his eyes at Harry's skeptical look at the ornate doorway and crowd of diners inside. "My family comes here all the time, Potter. They're very discreet."
Harry allowed himself to be escorted inside and they were shown to a table in a small alcove. None of the staff or patrons took much notice of them but Harry still didn't relax until after he'd cast a nonverbal Muffliato.
Ordering food and drink proved to be rather difficult and involved a lot of pointing and gesturing on Harry's part, until finally the waiter brought over a notepad and pencil for him. He was kind enough to leave it and Harry felt like a bit of an idiot for not thinking of that option and bringing one with him in the first place.
Draco smirked at him over a glass of wine. "Still not talking, eh? How long do you plan to keep this up?"
Harry shrugged. He hadn't actually thought about that at all, which he wrote on the notepad.
"You're such a freak," Draco laughed. "Although it's sort of fun being with someone who can't say anything back. I've noticed we argue a lot less now you have to keep your mouth shut."
Harry glared.
"Of course the mouth shut thing is a bit of a downer in some ways," Draco winked. "Still, it's not like I'd need you to talk in order to ravish you senseless."
After almost knocking over his glass of wine, Harry brought it to his lips with visibly shaking hands while Draco laughed quietly.
The arrival of their food saved him from having to make eye contact for a few moments and he was eternally grateful to whatever Higher Powers There Might Be for that diversion.
Did Draco want to ravish him? He was flirting, but was it just teasing or did he mean it? It was totally obvious he was taking the piss, but... How on earth was Harry supposed to be able to tell the difference? And what was he supposed to do?
Flustered, he finally looked up at Draco, only to see him licking his fork in a manner that could only be described as lewd. There was no way there was that much sauce stuck to the tines, Harry thought, trying to find logical reasons for Malfoy to be behaving like this while simultaneously ignoring the way his cock was pushing up the napkin in his lap.
In a desperate plea for sanity, Harry took the notepad and wrote, "
"
Draco made a face. "They're fine, Potter. My parents are fine. A bit preoccupied, but I suppose that's to be expected when their entire lives have been upturned and we're still not sure if my father is going to be sent to Azkaban." He scowled at his food, clearly upset. It was equally clear that Draco didn't want to talk about what was going on at home and Harry was happy to change the topic.
He wrote some nonsense asking about what team was Draco following in Quidditch and how were they doing presently. Relieved, Draco took up the new conversational thread and Harry allowed his earlier question to be deflected. It seemed that life at Malfoy Manor was pretty grim these days; he supposed it made sense then that Draco was spending so much time at Grimmauld Place with him.
The rest of their dinner went smoothly. They discussed Quidditch, Draco pontificating at length about each team in the league and what he thought of them. It turned out he was a Caerphilly Catapults supporter and they had a lively conversation about their new Keeper, a former Ravenclaw, Grant Page.
There was a bit of a squabble when Draco tried to pick up the check but in the end Harry let him. As Draco said, he'd been eating at Harry's all this time so it was only fair repayment of his hospitality.
Another awkward moment presented itself when it was time to leave. It being fairly late, Malfoy reluctantly noted that he ought to be getting home before his mother called the Aurors to go looking for him. Yet Draco just stood there looking at Harry, until he got out his notepad again.
"
" he wrote, feeling like the world's biggest twat as he ripped off the sheet and passed it over.
With a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, Draco took Harry's hand and bowed over it formally, replying, "I had a lovely time as well," before kissing the back of his hand like some prince in a fairy tale.
Harry's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. His heart was pounding, his body was frozen, and his brain wouldn't let go of the fact that Malfoy had just kissed his hand.
With his lips.
He blinked, coming back to reality a bit at the sound of Draco's uncontrolled laughter.
"Later, Potter," he said, and gave Harry a light punch on the arm. He turned and Disapparated, leaving a still-stunned Harry standing alone in the road, with an erection.
**Part 4**
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Author:
salixbabylonPairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Prompt: "Words" – Missing Persons, part of the
ficrocksthe80s festRating: NC-17
Word Count: 4564
Disclaimer: JKR owns everything. I just like to play naughty games with her dollies.
Summary: "Six months after the end of the war Harry decided, admittedly in a fit of pique, that he wasn't going to talk any more."
Author's Notes: Surprisingly mostly canon compliant, even with DH. Only I didn't kill Fred because that's just wrong. Also warning = plot! Not my usual PWP-fare. Tons of thanks to my beloved beta,
sarka *smooch*(Part 1, Part 2)
Draco came by late the next morning with scones and a parcel from Flourish and Blotts. A bit warily, Harry accepted the gift and opened it to find a box of parchment and a new quill made from pheasant feather. Draco had even included a bottle of ink – black with a hint of green when Harry held the bottle up to the light.
"They're for your letters," he said, as if they'd only just been talking about the subject a moment ago rather than the night before. "I'm going to give it a try, too."
Harry nodded his thanks, although a strange feeling fluttered around his insides and he wasn't sure if it was a result of thinking about writing the letters, or because Malfoy was standing so awfully close.
It was a brief visit, since Draco had a meeting with the family solicitors at noon - which was good, as Harry was expecting Ron and Hermione for lunch. Indeed, it seemed like he only spent a few hours flipping through musty smelling old books and decidedly not thinking about Draco before the wards on the Floo were chiming to let him know that someone was coming through. He greeted his friends and went downstairs to fetch their lunch
He wasn't gay. Malfoy was just... pretty. Anyone would think so.
Probably.
When Harry returned, levitating a tray of sandwiches, he had a moment of deja vu; Ron was standing in front of the backboard, reading it with a puzzled expression on his face. Hermione seemed a bit surprised as well. Harry made a mental note to remember to erase the bloody thing more often.
"Uh, Harry, mate, is there anything you'd like to tell us?" Ron asked.
Harry looked at the diagram from the night before: another stick figure masterpiece, clearly labeled with his name and Draco's and the cursed upstairs rug. Several spells were listed to the side, as possibilities. They'd had a very productive brainstorming session.
"Is something going on?" Hermione probed.
The first thought that popped into Harry's head was, oddly, the worry that his friends could somehow tell that he might be queer. This was followed by a swift bit of logic, aided by Ron scowling and poking at the chalk that spelled "
." Unfortunately, rather than soothing his blood pressure even just the sight of the name made Harry's crotch tingle, which trigged a memory of last night's unbelievably fantastic wank. He tried not to flush and took a few deep breaths to calm down.A couple of flicks of his wand had an abbreviated version of the story on the blackboard. He outlined returning Malfoy's wand, the Disarming, the thank you gifts, the visits and the developing friendship. And yes, even the use of Draco's name. He wrote in response to Ron's rather predictable insults that no, Malfoy hadn't totally changed, but that he was kind of fun to hang out with anyhow and really quite helpful with unraveling the Dark curses around the house.
"He was the one who told you how to access the library, wasn't he?" Hermione asked suddenly.
Harry nodded.
"So this has been happening for a while, then?" Ron asked. "When were you going to tell us?"
Harry shrugged and gestured to the "
" still written on the slate.Both of his friends gave him skeptical looks.
"We come here at least three times a week. Surely you could have brought it up," Hermione said.
They were right but Harry still scowled at them anyway.
"Well, so long as you're on your guard," Ron said, clearly not wanting to talk about Malfoy any more than he had to. "I know you can hold your own against him; never beaten you yet, has he? I just wonder what the little ferret wants from you..."
Glad to let the matter drop, Harry just shrugged and nudged a packet of chocolate biscuits towards Ron. Hermione gave him one last penetrating look, then shrugged her shoulders and began flipping through the books he and Draco had left lying around.
A short while later, after Ron and Harry had finished a game of chess that was much closer than usual (Harry's game had improved a lot from all of his practice with Draco), his friends made to leave. Hermione took him aside for a moment on the way out, while they waited for Ron to use the toilet.
"Harry..." she started, then paused. "Um. Malfoy's been coming over for almost a month now, hasn't he?"
Uncomfortable with where she might be going, he nodded warily.
"He bought you that parchment on the desk, right? For the letters. So that means he came over just yesterday, after we left."
Harry nodded and his face flushed, again trying not to think about the night before or tingle inappropriately anywhere.
"Is there anything else you want to tell me, Harry?"
He shook his head vehemently.
Hermione gave him a look. "Well, if there ever is, you know you can talk to me, right?"
He nodded. Ron saved him from whatever Hermione was going to say next by bustling down the stairs.
"Ready to go, then?" he asked, taking her hand.
She smiled at Ron and leaned forward to hug Harry, giving him a kiss on cheek. "I love you very much Harry. I want you to be happy."
Ron gave her a baffled look and glanced at Harry, who kept his expression carefully blank.
"Um, yeah. Right. Thanks for lunch, Harry. See you!" he said, pulling his girlfriend with him with the transparent intention of questioning her the moment they got home.
Harry shut the door behind them with a sinking feeling. Hermione knew something was up. It wouldn't be long until she had it all figured out.
A few days later Harry was roused from his contemplation of the shelves in the library by an insistent pounding at the front door. He flung it open to find one Draco Malfoy, looking like a drowned rat. It was utterly pouring outside and for reasons Harry couldn't imagine, Draco had neither umbrella, nor hat, nor coat, and had apparently also forgotten he was a wizard and could have cast a water-repelling charm on himself or his clothes.
"Well? Are you going to let me in?"
Harry gave him a thoughtful look, staring pointedly at the water pudding around Draco"s feet.
"Fuck off, Potter. Let me in!" he insisted.
Harry sighed and held the door open, stepping back to let him enter.
Draco immediately made for the stairs, calling out over his shoulder, "I'm freezing my bollocks off. I'm using your shower. I hope that's all right, and if it's not, too fucking bad - I don't care."
Harry tried not to laugh as the swearing grew more distant while Draco made his way upstairs, and took a moment to ponder the oddness of Malfoy barging into his house and demanding a bath as if they had been friends forever. Well, they'd known each other forever and he supposed that was something. And it was sort of pleasant that Draco felt so comfortable in his house.
Harry was in the drawing room trying to decide whether tea or whisky would be more appropriate at this time in the afternoon. He'd summoned Kreacher to help clean up the puddles of water in the hall and was having trouble deciding what to do next.
"Can I borrow some clothes?" came from the doorway.
Harry turned, looking up, and almost dropped his wand at the sight he beheld. Draco was naked, apart from a rather small towel held loosely around his waist by one hand. Drops of water slowly trickled from his hair and down his body. A flash of arousal surged through Harry and he wrenched his eyes away from the tempting display with difficulty.
Flicking his wand at the blackboard as if the sight of all that ivory flesh hadn't instantly made him hard, he wrote, "
"Draco gave him a withering glare. "Drying spells leave my hair all wrong and then I have to resort to using something like Sleekeazy's."
"
" Harry grinned.The glare continued. "Do you really want to have a conversation about bad hair, Potter?"
Cringing, Harry shook his head no.
"So, can I borrow some clothes, then? Or should I just lounge around in this towel until mine finish drying?" Draco asked. "Oh, and can you have Kreacher clean them? They're in a heap on the floor of your bath," he added as an afterthought.
With a roll of his eyes, Harry tapped the elf's name, Summoning him again, and let Malfoy make his request. As usual, Kreacher seemed more than happy to do anything he could for "young Master Malfoy."
That done, the two young men traipsed up the stairs to Harry's bedroom. He breathed a sigh of relief that he was leading the way, so he didn't have to "not-look" at Draco's towel clad arse all the way up. And then Draco was mostly naked, in his room. Where he'd wanked. Over Draco.
Harry's palms were sweating, his heart was beating hard, and it was taking an unbelievable amount of effort to simply breathe without making any sounds as he started pulling clothes out of the drawers and the wardrobe.
Draco, totally unselfconscious, began drying off.
Harry tried not to stare.
Harry failed.
He failed so spectacularly that Draco noticed – and despite the fact that Harry had obviously broken the strict Boys' Code of Not Staring at Each Other When You're Starkers, Draco's reaction was a surprise. Rather than taking the piss or simply punching him, he gave Harry a grin that probably could have been classified as "seductive", and almost certainly would have been, if seduction had been at all necessary.
"Like what you see?" he said in his familiar, challenging drawl.
Despite making a valiant effort not to, Harry could tell that his entire face had gone red before he turned away, shrugging. This had the double purpose of making it clear that he wasn't looking and making sure that Draco couldn't see the obvious bulge in his jeans.
What was wrong with him? His body had never felt so out of control, not even when he first hit puberty and got hard whenever the wind blew. He tried not to whimper as he caught a sliver of pale skin reflected in the mirror across the room.
Flinging all vestiges of Gryffindorish courage to the wayside, Harry fled from his bedroom to the safety of books, the library, cursed furniture, and other normal things that didn't involve a flirtatious, semi-naked Draco.
Harry was so unsettled that he dropped the armload of books he was carrying from the library to the drawing room when Draco snuck up behind him in the hall a few minutes later.
"I don't exactly mind if you were checking me out," he said in a voice half-teasing and half-serious. "It's not like you'd be the first; I am quite good looking."
Resisting the urge to throw one of the books he was picking up off the floor at Draco, Harry gave him a doubtful look.
"What?" Draco asked. "I'm incredibly gorgeous. Tons of other blokes have checked me out. You're one of the lucky few privileged enough to have seen me au naturel."
Harry managed to keep his face from coloring but he couldn't entirely hide his surprise at the ease with which Malfoy alluded to gay men. They went back to the drawing room and Draco Summoned the decanter of scotch and two glasses.
Drinking a healthy swallow, Draco gave him a thoughtful look. "You're not homophobic, are you, Potter? I don't see at all how someone can be so pro-Muggleborns and yet have a problem with gay sex," he said in a challenging tone. "Lots of wizards are gay or bisexual. Even my Great Uncle Asmodeus Malfoy had a male lover. My father might not particularly care for it but most purebloods don't raise too much of a fuss so long as the family line is carried on." Draco made a face, then added in a quieter voice, "I still haven't figured out what I'm going to do about that yet..."
Harry gulped his own glass of the strong liquor, trying not to cough as it burned down to his stomach. He could hardly believe Draco was being so nonchalant about the topic. Well, if it wasn't a big deal to him, then maybe Harry should just ask.
"
""I don't really like to limit myself," Draco answered with a bit of a smirk. "Wizards, witches, whatever. Hardly anyone is good enough for me as it is – I'd hate to eliminate half my possibilities just based on gender," he said in a mocking tone.
Harry made a face at him and sipped his scotch again, grateful for its calming properties. His heart was still hammering away inside his chest but he didn't think he was blushing anymore.
At least he wasn't until Draco flopped down onto the sofa in a languid sprawl and asked with a bit of a smile, "So what about you then? Aren't you still with the Weaslette?"
Harry scowled but then ruined it by sitting down right next to Draco and refilling both of their glasses.
"Well? That was quite a lascivious look upstairs for someone still with a girlfriend. Doesn't she put out?" he taunted.
Harry shoved him a bit. "
" he wrote with a flick of his wand."Ah ha. So you do bat for the other team then, eh?" Draco said, sliding closer to Harry with a leer.
Harry choked on his drink in surprise and spent the next few minutes coughing.
Draco laughed at him. "I kind of figured you were queer, since you never really seemed to date anyone other than Weasley's little sister. Seemed pretty obvious that she was just a substitute for dating the Weasel himself, since he's so obviously smitten with Granger."
Harry's eyes widened. "
""Well then, have you managed to get laid yet?" Draco asked, still chuckling at Harry's vehement response.
Flustered by the audaciously bold questions, Harry could feel his face flushing again as he shook his head no. He took a fortifying swallow of scotch and wrote, "
"Draco shrugged. "Well, I did have a girlfriend for most of school, you know. I was with Pansy forever and she assumed we were going to get married, so of course I did everything she'd let me. Not quite everything, but we did some stuff until, uh, I got a bit too busy to pay attention to her in 6th year," he said, fumbling a bit. He and Harry never really discussed their past, by mutual unspoken agreement.
"Anyway, that year, when I was too busy for her, I messed about with a friend a few times to see what it was like with boys." Draco shrugged again. "It was good. He was much better at some things than Pansy was."
Harry wanted to ask to ask how good it was, and who this unnamed boy was, and what he was better at doing than Pansy had been, but he was too embarrassed to write those questions on the blackboard. He took another sip of his drink and tried to let the liquor soothe his jumbled thoughts.
They sat in silence, staring off into space for a while, each lost in his own thoughts. It was a comfortable silence, surprisingly.
"I should be going," Draco said after a while. "Kreacher?" he called.
The elf popped into the drawing room, arms already laden with Malfoy's clothes, now clean and dry. Taking the bundle into his arms, Draco told Harry he would return the clothes he was wearing next time he came over.
Harry nodded his agreement and they headed out toward the staircase.
"I see you haven't touched that box of parchment yet," Draco observed, stopping at the desk near the door. "What's the matter; you don't like pheasant feather quills?"
Harry gave him an apologetic look, feeling a bit guilty. He'd meant to start writing but every time he thought about it he decided to work on the hexes and curses for the house instead.
Draco's look was understanding, even a bit sympathetic. "Give it a try," he urged. "What can it hurt? If it doest work you don't have to do it; it's not a homework assignment."
Fair point, Harry thought. He nodded, resolving to try it later, perhaps that very evening.
When they reached the Floo, Draco stumbled a bit and caught himself by grabbing onto Harry. He hadn't thought Draco was quite that pissed, but it felt rather nice to be touched all the same.
Very nice.
The hand on his shoulder gave a little squeeze. "And now I must take my leave," he said in a very formal and pompous tone that made Harry grin.
He waved farewell and Draco grinned back for a moment, then threw a handful of powder onto the fire and left for his Manor. Harry wandered back to the drawing room and finished his glass of scotch, staring into the fireplace and thinking about it all.
It had been a very strange day.
But a good one, Harry decided. He'd had a conversation about being gay. He'd seen Draco naked. He'd learned Draco sometimes messed around with other boys.
A very good day, indeed.
Writing letters to the dead was more of a challenge that Harry had anticipated. He had a few false starts, then finally decided to begin with a letter to Sirius, since he'd at least had some experience corresponding with Padfoot before.
He went through several sheets of parchment just trying to get started; every time he got going he seemed to get angry and start writing about how frustrated he had been (and evidently still was) that Sirius had behaved so recklessly. It was so difficult to get past it that finally Harry just left a long rant about Sirius' impulsiveness and how getting killed was practically his own bloody fault anyway, before he could get to the bits about how much he missed his godfather.
He wrote for a long time, filling up several sheets, and added to it over the course of the day between other tasks. He wrote that it felt odd, living in Sirius' house without him. That he wished he'd been able to know his godfather better. That he wished Sirius' life had turned out differently, and that it wasn't fair that it had been so twisted and stunted by Voldemort and Azkaban and so many events out of Sirius' control.
It was a gut-wrenching letter to write and Harry felt exhausted and drained by the time he finished it, his eyes still a bit moist at the corners.
But he did feel a bit better. He'd ranted and raved and accused and apologized for forgetting about the two-way mirror and finally, at the end, told Sirius how much he missed him. That he was the only father Harry had really ever had. That he'd loved him.
After a few days' break, he tackled the letters to Tonks and Moody and Colin Creevey, and got all three of those finished in the same day, as they were fairly short goodbyes. By the end of the week he'd also written Remus' letter, which had been about as difficult as he'd anticipated it would be, and left him feeling miserable for the better part of two days. Hermione came by to oh-so-helpfully assure him that this was a normal response and he just barely managed to refrain from hexing her. Just because it was "normal" didn't make it hurt any bloody bit less.
His friends did their best to cheer him up, which was equal parts thoughtful and annoying. He had a flux of visitors again and his evenings were rarely free. The twins even stopped by for supper and an offer to Harry to become their Quality Control Officer, which he declined once he'd sussed that they meant "paid guinea pig."
They also flirted with him a bit more and this time Fred actually did sneak a grope in, just before the twins left. Harry's body responded favorably but not with the same blinding-hot flash of lust that just sitting next to Draco had produced. Although he avoided thinking about that aspect, he did spend some time getting used to the idea that he might be queer or at the very least bisexual.
It wasn't as disturbing a thought as it would have been a couple of months ago.
After an absence of over a week, Harry was greeted at breakfast by Tiberius, with a note from Draco. His mother's trial had gone favorably, he said, and suggested a celebratory dinner out if Harry would join him.
Harry replied that he'd like to, but he couldn't visualize Draco in a Muggle restaurant and he didn't want to go to any Wizarding ones because he'd be recognized and harassed. Draco sent Tiberius back with a note saying he knew the perfect place and to trust him. Harry smiled a bit wryly to himself before writing his reply and agreeing to let Draco Floo over to Grimmmauld Place and they could Apparate together from there.
At eight o'clock on the dot, Draco stepped through the Floo. Harry was glad of the training that the Silence Resolution had given him, as it kept him from whimpering aloud. Draco was wearing relatively normal clothes: dark trousers, a pale shirt, and very nice robes which were cut almost like a frock-coat. They looked like something Professor Snape might have worn but clung to Draco's torso and exposed his long legs in a way that made Harry drool.
Feeling very under-dressed in his usual robes, Harry allowed himself to be Side-Alonged to a small Wizarding restaurant in Lacock, in Wiltshire.
Draco rolled his eyes at Harry's skeptical look at the ornate doorway and crowd of diners inside. "My family comes here all the time, Potter. They're very discreet."
Harry allowed himself to be escorted inside and they were shown to a table in a small alcove. None of the staff or patrons took much notice of them but Harry still didn't relax until after he'd cast a nonverbal Muffliato.
Ordering food and drink proved to be rather difficult and involved a lot of pointing and gesturing on Harry's part, until finally the waiter brought over a notepad and pencil for him. He was kind enough to leave it and Harry felt like a bit of an idiot for not thinking of that option and bringing one with him in the first place.
Draco smirked at him over a glass of wine. "Still not talking, eh? How long do you plan to keep this up?"
Harry shrugged. He hadn't actually thought about that at all, which he wrote on the notepad.
"You're such a freak," Draco laughed. "Although it's sort of fun being with someone who can't say anything back. I've noticed we argue a lot less now you have to keep your mouth shut."
Harry glared.
"Of course the mouth shut thing is a bit of a downer in some ways," Draco winked. "Still, it's not like I'd need you to talk in order to ravish you senseless."
After almost knocking over his glass of wine, Harry brought it to his lips with visibly shaking hands while Draco laughed quietly.
The arrival of their food saved him from having to make eye contact for a few moments and he was eternally grateful to whatever Higher Powers There Might Be for that diversion.
Did Draco want to ravish him? He was flirting, but was it just teasing or did he mean it? It was totally obvious he was taking the piss, but... How on earth was Harry supposed to be able to tell the difference? And what was he supposed to do?
Flustered, he finally looked up at Draco, only to see him licking his fork in a manner that could only be described as lewd. There was no way there was that much sauce stuck to the tines, Harry thought, trying to find logical reasons for Malfoy to be behaving like this while simultaneously ignoring the way his cock was pushing up the napkin in his lap.
In a desperate plea for sanity, Harry took the notepad and wrote, "
"Draco made a face. "They're fine, Potter. My parents are fine. A bit preoccupied, but I suppose that's to be expected when their entire lives have been upturned and we're still not sure if my father is going to be sent to Azkaban." He scowled at his food, clearly upset. It was equally clear that Draco didn't want to talk about what was going on at home and Harry was happy to change the topic.
He wrote some nonsense asking about what team was Draco following in Quidditch and how were they doing presently. Relieved, Draco took up the new conversational thread and Harry allowed his earlier question to be deflected. It seemed that life at Malfoy Manor was pretty grim these days; he supposed it made sense then that Draco was spending so much time at Grimmauld Place with him.
The rest of their dinner went smoothly. They discussed Quidditch, Draco pontificating at length about each team in the league and what he thought of them. It turned out he was a Caerphilly Catapults supporter and they had a lively conversation about their new Keeper, a former Ravenclaw, Grant Page.
There was a bit of a squabble when Draco tried to pick up the check but in the end Harry let him. As Draco said, he'd been eating at Harry's all this time so it was only fair repayment of his hospitality.
Another awkward moment presented itself when it was time to leave. It being fairly late, Malfoy reluctantly noted that he ought to be getting home before his mother called the Aurors to go looking for him. Yet Draco just stood there looking at Harry, until he got out his notepad again.
"
" he wrote, feeling like the world's biggest twat as he ripped off the sheet and passed it over.With a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, Draco took Harry's hand and bowed over it formally, replying, "I had a lovely time as well," before kissing the back of his hand like some prince in a fairy tale.
Harry's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. His heart was pounding, his body was frozen, and his brain wouldn't let go of the fact that Malfoy had just kissed his hand.
With his lips.
He blinked, coming back to reality a bit at the sound of Draco's uncontrolled laughter.
"Later, Potter," he said, and gave Harry a light punch on the arm. He turned and Disapparated, leaving a still-stunned Harry standing alone in the road, with an erection.
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Date: 2007-11-12 05:49 am (UTC)Can't wait for the next chapter!
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Date: 2007-11-13 03:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 06:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 03:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 06:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 03:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 06:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 03:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 09:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 09:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 03:56 am (UTC)Thanks for reading and appreciating my artistic talents in all of their forms. ;)
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Date: 2007-11-12 11:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 03:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 11:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 03:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 03:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 12:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 03:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 01:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 04:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 01:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 04:02 am (UTC)Glad you're liking the stickboys - I may have to make an icon. ;)
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Date: 2007-11-12 09:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 04:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 04:30 am (UTC)This story is wonderful, with a light tone but still dealing with some serious topics. I loved this Harry, so confused, mourning and learning to deal with loss. Draco is delightful, we don't know what's in his head though it's obvious he's flirting with Harry. Oh, the UST! It's better than smut, in some ways.
I can't wait to read more :)
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Date: 2007-11-15 04:04 am (UTC)Thank you for the compliments! I am trying to balance that line between angst and fluff, so it's nice to hear that it's working out ok so far. And yes, I do adore UST. ;)
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Date: 2007-11-13 05:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-15 04:08 am (UTC)He's such a stubborn young man - it just seemed so obvious when I got the song prompt and looked at the lyrics!
love it
Date: 2007-11-13 07:54 am (UTC)Re: love it
Date: 2007-11-15 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 04:32 pm (UTC)Finally, I really like your writing. Great characterisation and many fabulous phrases and descriptions. Iknow you said you don't like writing more than 10 chapters but oh, in my dreams you would write a lovely novel-length Drarry for me and I would die a happy, happy girl.
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Date: 2007-11-15 04:18 am (UTC)Glad to hear you're also enjoying the story itself. I've certainly been having fun writing it - I do love the UST! Dunno about a novel-length one, though - this story is already at around 35k, which makes it the second-longest fic I've ever written.
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Date: 2007-11-13 10:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-15 04:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-15 05:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-14 12:41 am (UTC)Cocktease!Draco fucking with Harry's muddled, not-so-straight brain is awfully delightful, isn't it? yes, so very delightful.
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Date: 2007-11-15 04:20 am (UTC)Draco is such a fun character to write. I should write more H/D, it seems. I really do enjoy them both so much. :)
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Date: 2007-11-14 06:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-15 04:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-15 09:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-15 04:54 pm (UTC)More will be posted soon. Was supposed to be today, but there's been a technical glitch, so I'll get it up a soon as I can. Thanks for reading!
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Date: 2009-09-13 08:49 pm (UTC)The image after
"So this has been happening for a while, then?" Ron asked. "When were you going to tell us?"
is missing.
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Date: 2009-09-16 09:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 06:03 pm (UTC)Lacock, in Wiltshire. What?! I googled it, it's a real place.
The glare continued. "Do you really want to have a conversation about bad hair, Potter?"
...while simultaneously ignoring the way his cock was pushing up the napkin in his lap.
Love it...off to read more.
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Date: 2010-02-28 10:10 pm (UTC)