FIC: Chasing Draco (Harry/Draco) - Part 2

[bottom_draco_comm]

Title: Chasing Draco
Author: dracogotgame
Prompt: PROMPT 60
Adapted from: Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew
Pairing: Harry/Draco, also featuring Blaise/Ginny, mild Lucius/Andromeda
Word Count/Art Medium: 45, 308
Rating: R
Contains (Highlight to view) : *Nothing major I can think of. Fluff avalanche? Slight angst, perhaps. Slash suggestions *
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: I did it. I actually did it! Before I go about thanking everyone who made this possible, I would like to mention that this epic tale has survived twelve rewrites, a complete mental breakdown, a home move and a city wide internet blackout on the very last day. Against all odds, it happened and I can’t tell you what it means to me to see it up here.

First and foremost, my thanks goes to appleling . She outdid herself with this brilliant, fantastic and utterly delicious prompt. As a mod, she has been a goddess- supportive, kind and wonderful. She survived my first breakdown and made sure I made it through and this is all her. As a friend, there are no words. Thank you, darling for being just so wonderful. This is for you- my longest story till date. And I hope you enjoy it, should you ever get through it.

Hugs and unicorns also go out to to blossomdreams for her overall loveliness, brilliant beta-ing and amazing reliability. If it weren’t for her, this fic would not have seen the light of day.

Lastly, my cousin who is sadly not on LJ, and wishes to remain anonymous. This angel sent from heaven underwent a gruelling weekend of spell checks, corrections and last minute freak outs. She made it, as did I. And here is the result before you. I love you, M! Stay golden. And to everyone who reads this, thanks again. You’ve been wonderful to me so far, and I love every one of you. Please treat my little story kindly, I know you will. Cheers!

Summary: Draco Malfoy is every suitor's nightmare. His brazen temper and absolute disregard for the personal safety of others has his father in despair. Enter Harry Potter.



PREVIOUS




Draco woke up to sunlight streaming in his room. He groaned and buried himself under the blankets. Seriously, the next time he and Potter stayed at Hogwarts, they were rooming in the dungeons. Stupid sunlight ruining his sleep and… suddenly, the direction his sleep addled thoughts had taken caught up with him and Draco sat up abruptly.

This growing tendency of his could not be a good thing. Thinking about Harry in any manner that implied that this situation was permanent was stupid and reckless. Not to mention mad. He couldn’t possibly imagine spending his life with him. Not after spending a good decade or so actively hating the man’s guts.

Except Harry seemed to think so. Then again, Harry was insane. Draco huffed irritably - yet another unfortunate side effect to his proximity to the Gryffindor Git. Just what was he thinking anyway? You couldn’t just up and go for whatever the hell you wanted just because! That was not how things worked. Oh, and Harry has always been so concerned about the proper order of things, he found himself thinking sarcastically. And now he was referring to him as Harry inside his head.

Well, wasn’t that nice.

Draco threw the blankets off and slipped off to the shower. He glanced at the couch that had most certainly not been there the night before, expecting to see Potter sprawled across and snoring.

He wasn’t there. A blanket was strewn across, along with the pyjamas. Draco blushed unexpectedly. Potter had probably changed while he was still sleeping. The blond bit his lip. The thought of being in the same room as an apparently naked Harry Potter was not one he needed to explore right now.

Groaning and cursing to oblivion and back, Draco slipped in for a shower. He suspected that if Potter persisted in walking around with his clothes off, he was going to be taking a lot more showers.

****

Draco spent a while, exploring the castle. There was a fond nostalgia there, despite being tempered with images of the War. The students regarded him curiously, but none had dared to approach him so far. He amused himself with glaring at a few Hufflepuffs (just like old times) before sauntering out to the Quidditch Pitch.

Draco grinned as the familiar metal hoops glinted in the morning sun, a good thirty feet from the ground. He shielded his eyes and watched with interest as a blur flew by on a broom. A match was in progress. No, not a match - else the whole school would be out here. Probably practice then.

Draco jogged down to the pitch, hoping to catch Slytherin in action again. He hovered by the empty stands, watching as the players swoop across open sky, tossing the Quaffle around and revising team tactics and strategies. Gryffindors probably, considering the ruckus they were making. The Slytherins had always been a lot more reserved - choosing to use only hand signals and gestures for communication during the game.

Suddenly the players were swooping to the ground. One of them - probably the Seeker, Draco mused noting the boy’s wiry build - landed next to him. “Did you see that?” he asked Draco excitedly. “I caught it! That’s the first time I ever caught it!” He held up the Snitch proudly and Draco found himself somewhat amused by the child’s infectious enthusiasm.

“Very impressive,” he offered.

“I know, right?” he babbled. “Billy Johnson said I don’t stand a chance against Slytherin but I’ll show him! He doesn’t know I’m practicing with the ruddy Cannons Seeker, does he? I can’t wait to see his face when I…”

“What?” Draco blurted. His questions were immediately answered as someone swooped down almost next to him. Potter was riding a rather ancient Cleansweep Seven, his hair swept back and his cheeks red from exertion. And he was grinning so widely his face would probably split.

“Jack! Mate, you caught it. Told you it would work, didn’t I?”

“It worked just like you said, Harry!” Jack exclaimed excitedly, thrusting the Snitch in Potter’s face now. “I kept my…”

“Legs close to your body to balance your weight,” Harry finished. “Remember to keep your elbows tucked in or you might catch a Bludger. And…”

Draco rolled his eyes and cleared his throat meaningfully. Harry whipped around to face him and grinned sheepishly. “I was just helping out the old team,” he explained awkwardly as the blond raised an eyebrow. “Go Gryffindors and all.” Jack whooped and high-fived him. Harry grinned at him and shrugged at Draco in a what-can-you-do manner.

Draco’s lips twitched. “Couldn’t last one day without the fan club, Potter?” he drawled. “You had to go and build a new one?”

Harry chuckled. “Well, someone has to make sure they’re prepared for the big game,” he replied. “As I recall, Slytherins are cheaters.”

“As I recall, Gryffindors were just plain lucky.”

Potter raised his eyebrows. “Do I detect the hint of a challenge, Malfoy? I could still grind you into the dust.”

Before Draco could retort, Jack cut in. “Malfoy?” he blurted, gawking at Draco. “Are you… you’re not Draco Malfoy, are you?”

“I… am?” Draco responded doubtfully. He hadn’t expected anyone to know him by name here. Potter yes, he was practically a celebrity but not him, surely.

Jack seemed to disagree. His brown eyes widened to inexplicable proportions. “No way!” he babbled. “No ruddy way! Hey guys!” he bellowed at his teammates. Six pairs of eyes turned to regard them curiously. “Guys, you’re not going to believe this! It’s Draco Malfoy!”

“No!”

“Seriously?”

“The Draco Malfoy?”

Draco immediately found himself in a sea of wide eyed Gryffindors. They gaped at him with dropped jaws and huge eyes, chattering excitedly among themselves. Draco stared at Harry who looked rather lost as well.

“Can you believe it?” one of the Chasers babbled excitedly. “Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in the same day?” The rest of the team responded with eager chatter and Draco and Harry exchanged confused glances.

“Am I… missing something?” Harry cut in finally.

Jack was the one who cleared thing up. “You two are legendary!” he explained eagerly. “Like the ultimate rivals!”

“We’ve heard all the stories about your best games,” a Beater broke in. “Like that time when you and Malfoy were racing for the Snitch and you broke your arm catching it!”

Harry grinned, looking somewhat embarrassed. “Well, we were kind of competitive back then…”

“Kind of competitive?” Jack echoed indignantly. “You were madmen! It was awesome! Draco, did you really set Harry’s broom on fire that one time?”

“He was cheating,” Draco supplied, grinning unapologetically as Harry scowled.

“As if you never cheated,” Harry belted indignantly. “What about when you did that loopy, swervy thing and knocked me off my broom? You nearly took off my head!”

“You used the Malfoy Manoeuvre on Harry Potter?” Jack gasped.

“It has a name?” Harry sputtered indignantly.

“Well, what do you know?” Draco smirked. “They named a move after me. Hey Potter, how many Quidditch moves do you have named after you?”

Harry scowled. “It’s not a real thing!” he protested.

“Is too,” Draco grinned. “Hey Jack, has anyone else used the Malfoy Manoeuvre lately?”

“Only every Slytherin Seeker,” Jack replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s like their signature move.”

Draco preened unabashedly. “Well, it seems I’ve got a fan following,” he preened, grinning at a glaring Harry over his shoulder. “And I didn’t even need to join a big, fancy National League to do it.”

“It’s not a real thing!” Harry snapped, leaning forward aggressively.

“It is so a real thing!” Draco retorted, stepping closer and glaring the prat down. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have a move named after you!”

“Neither do you! It’s not a real thing!”

“You know what’s a real thing, Potter? My fist!”

They were barging into each other now and their chests were practically touching. Draco glared into Potter’s flashing green eyes, his mouth tight and his body thrumming with tension. Around them, the Gryffindors stood transfixed.

“They’re going to fight,” the Chaser whispered excitedly. “We’re gonna see Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy fight! Oh my god, this is officially the best day of my life!”

Harry stepped back at once and raised his hands. “No one is going to fight,” he declared. “We don’t have anything to prove. And besides, it wouldn’t be fair anyway so let’s just drop it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco demanded at once.

Harry shrugged apologetically. “Well, let’s face it Draco. I’m a professional Quidditch Player and you’re… well, not. We were probably in the same league at some point but I could flatten you now. Hell, I’d probably catch the Snitch before you were off the ground.”

There was an immediate bout of ooohs from the assembled Gryffindors and Draco bristled. “You want to put your money where your mouth is, Potter?” he hissed.

Harry gave him a condescending grin that made his blood boil. “Well, if you insist on public humiliation who am I to deny you?”

“Fine!” Draco spat. “Right here. Right now. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.”

“Can we play too?” one of the Gryffindors asked imploringly. “You’ll need a team!”

“Of course,” Harry replied. “Gryffindors forever, mate!” He turned to give Draco a teasing smirk. “I don’t suppose you’ll have a team in the next ten minutes, will you?”

“Jack!” Draco snapped, his eyes blazing as he glared at Potter. “Round up the Slytherin team. Tell them Draco Malfoy demands their presence on the pitch in five minutes.”

“Yes sir!” Jack squeaked, taking off like a Firebolt. Draco didn’t notice, he was too busy locked in a staring contest with Potter. “I’m going to wipe this pitch with you,” he declared.

“May the best man win,” Harry smirked.

“Oh don’t worry,” Draco purred. “I will.”

****

Jack had outdone himself. Not only had he procured the Slytherin team in five minutes flat, but he had wrangled a sizeable audience as well. The crowd was milling about as eager Gryffindors and Slytherins crowded the pitch, hoping for a glance of the famous Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in action. Some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were watching with mild interest as well. Chants filled the air as Slytherins and Gryffindors rooted for their teams and Harry grinned as he noticed not a few red banners fluttering around.

It was just like old times. And he couldn’t wait to take Malfoy on again.

“Alright team,” he announced, looking around at his eager players. “We’re changing the rules a bit to accommodate everyone. So, we’ll have two Seekers for the match. Jack, you ready? Good. The rest of you - just do what you’ve been doing at practice. Keep an eye out for Bludgers. Beaters, we’re counting on you. And remember - they’re Slytherins, so stay on your toes. Everyone got that?”

He grinned at the resounding chorus of whoops and cheers. “Go Gryffindors,” Harry yelled. “Now let’s go out there and give them hell!”

The team howled in unison and took off. Harry grinned and turned to shoot Draco a grin. The blond was at the other end of the pitch, giving the Slytherins his own pep talk. He caught Harry’s eye and the Gryffindor gave him a wink. Draco responded by slashing his finger across his throat in a threatening gesture.

Harry laughed.

Just like old times.

****

“And remember, they’re Gryffindors,” Draco finished. “Clearly, you possess the advantage of superior intellect.”

The assembled team snickered and Draco nodded, satisfied. “Any questions?”

“Are we allowed to set brooms on fire?” a petite blonde girl asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “As team captain and honorary Seeker, I have to say no. That would be cheating and completely against the rules,” he drawled. “By the way, what’s the Slytherin motto again?”

“It’s not cheating if you don’t get caught!” the team chorused. Draco grinned at the girl. “Any more questions, Chaser?”

“No sir,” she smirked.

“Right then, let’s get out there and show those Gryffindors how to play Quidditch. Make me proud. Or else.”

They marched off like a battle formation. Across the field, Draco caught Potter’s intent eye. He smirked and made a slashing gesture against his throat. Potter laughed and gave him a thumbs-up.

Draco smiled and summoned his broom.

Just like old times.

****

“Just couldn’t let it go, could you?” Madame Hooch asked dryly as both teams jogged out to the pitch. “I suppose it’s too much to ask for a good, clean game?”

“No Ma’am. We’ll play nice,” Harry said. Draco merely smirked, choosing not to commit himself.

“Right,” the witch drawled, sounding utterly unconvinced. “Team Captains, shake hands. And let’s try to keep everyone out of the Hospital Wing, shall we?”

Harry stepped up and put out his hand. Draco took it, wrapping his long fingers around Harry’s in a light grip. “Good luck, Potter,” he drawled. “You’ll need it.”

Harry smirked and squeezed lightly. “When I win, I expect a prize. A kiss from my fiancé.”

Draco flushed but raised his chin defiantly. “i>If you win I’ll consider it.”

“Scared, Malfoy?”

“You wish, Potter.”

“Captains, mount your brooms!”

Harry mounted his broom and kicked off as the whistle sounded. Draco was right beside him, grey eyes glinting with challenge and silently promising him a hell of a fight before this was over. Those pretty, pouty lips smirked and then Draco swooped gracefully, scouring for the Snitch.

Harry grinned and took off behind him.

It was on.

****

Two hours later, they were back in their room. Harry was sulking with his leg in a cast and Draco was thumbing through a novel, his lips pressed together firmly as he tried not to laugh.

“Say it,” Harry growled.

“Say what?” Draco asked innocently.

“You know exactly what,” Harry snapped. “So say it and get it over with.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Draco claimed, batting his lashes. “Unless you’re referring to your abject humiliation on the Quidditch pitch.”

“Prat,” Harry muttered.

“Oh and since you brought it up - we caught the Snitch, we caught the Snitch,” Draco sing-songed aggravatingly.

Harry stood up indignantly and winced as his foot throbbed. He hobbled over to where Draco was seated and crossed his arms, glaring at the grinning blond. “You did not catch the Snitch,” he gritted out. “Billy Johnson caught the Snitch.”

“Oh that’s right. And do refresh my memory, what was that astounding formation he pulled when he caught it? You know - the one that made you crash into a goal post and crumple to the ground in a heap of abject failure?”

Harry mumbled resentfully and Draco snickered. “What was that? I don’t think I heard you.”

“The Malfoy Manoeuvre, okay?!”

Draco cackled gleefully and Harry huffed, intending to stomp off. He stopped as he felt a hand on his, pulling him back. “Stop being a sore loser,” Draco chided. “And lie down, you idiot. You’re going to twist your ankle.”

“You’re teasing me,” Harry pouted sullenly.

“Boo hoo, poor Potter,” Draco drawled, pushing him back against the pillows. “You’re just mad that you’re not getting your kiss.”

“But I’m wounded!” Harry protested.

“Yes well, you should have thought about that before you smashed into a goalpost at breakneck speed,” Draco informed him. “Honestly Potter, have you no sense of personal safety?”

Harry grinned cheekily. “Why? Were you worried about me?”

“Hardly,” Draco sniffed. “Save for the inconvenience of having to nurse you back to health, now that you’re incapacitated.”

“I like it,” Harry announced, settling back against the pillows and letting Draco fuss about for a while. “Maybe I’ll crash into things more often.”

“Do it and I’ll never kiss you again!” Draco threatened, inexplicably angry at the suggestion. He told himself that Potter’s tendency of taking foolish risks was annoying him. That was all. It certainly wasn’t concern. And that flash of pure panic he had experienced when Harry had collided into the post and careened to the ground was a fluke. A fluke! He flushed as Harry fixed him with a curious look and promptly looked away, fiddling with the pillows again.

“You don’t kiss me anyway,” the prat announced sulkily.

“And I’m not going to,” Draco declared. “Go to sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Read then. Just stop bothering me.”

“Fine, fine. Can you pass me that novel you were reading? It’s right there.”

Draco rolled his eyes and reached over Potter to fetch the novel. Immediately, he felt an arm wrap around his waist. Draco groaned as he was flipped over. He really should have seen that one coming. He landed on the bed with Potter looming above him, smirking. “And that, Malfoy is a little something I call The Potter Ploy,” he said, before leaning down and crushing his mouth against the blond’s.

****

Draco awoke the next morning, tangled in blankets again. He blinked sleepily, noting with chagrin that he was alone. Not that he had expected Potter to sleep in the same bed - or even wanted him to. It was just that they’d snogged quite a bit last night and he had expected his persuasive fiancé to demand the right to sleep next to him. Potter hadn’t pressed the issue. He had simply slipped off Draco after kissing the very life out of him and headed for his couch.

Draco scowled at the room in general, before catching sight of the bane of his existence sprawled on the sofa. Potter was lying on his stomach with those cursed pyjamas riding low on his hips. Draco eyed him intently, taking the time to really look at Potter. He was lean and tall and had long, dark eyelashes that fluttered as he slumbered. Draco cocked his head. Was he dreaming? The man frowned and turned in his sleep, hissing in pain as his injured foot caught on the arm of the sofa.

Draco sighed and approached the couch. Potter’s forehead was furrowed and he mumbled something, batting around for his pillow. Draco rolled his eyes and arranged it under his arm. Potter immediately sighed and mumbled something sounded suspiciously like Draco. Despite himself, the blond smiled.

“Git,” he whispered, reaching out tentatively and stroking the lines of Potter’s face. The skin smoothed out under his touch as Potter relaxed and fell back into an even sleep. Draco shook his head and lifted the man’s injured leg, placing it against the arm of the sofa. That had to be more comfortable.

“Pleasant dreams, you stupid Gryffindor,” he murmured, heading off for a shower.

****

Draco was already in the Great Hall, helping himself to breakfast when Potter trudged in. He looked scruffy and sulky and his hair stood up in all different directions. Draco smirked. Potter clearly wasn’t much of a morning person. He caught sight of Draco and shuffled over, sitting next to him.

“Well, you look rested,” Draco declared cheerfully. Potter ignored him and scowled at the marmalade. Draco noted the bags under his eyes with a twang of guilt. The couch was probably uncomfortable, and Harry was injured. He should have offered to take the couch for the night. Now Potter was probably going to be sullen all day. That was hardly fair. Being sullen was Draco’s job. On an impulse, he reached out and carded a hand through Harry’s hair, trying to pat it down.

Harry responded by whining and slumping against his shoulder. “Really Potter,” Draco admonished. “McGonagall is staring at you.” That much was true. As a matter of fact, several of their former teachers were looking over at them with alternate looks of confusion and amusement. No one seemed overtly shocked though, Draco noted. They’d probably been following the Prophet’s fantastic coverage.

Potter didn’t care. He refused to extricate himself from the crook of Draco’s neck and he was getting rather heavy. The blond sighed and poured a cup of coffee, handing it to him. “Here,” he sighed. “Drink it and try to act like a functional human being.”

Potter blinked at the cup. “Coffee?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, you sot,” Draco drawled. “Here, have at it.”

Potter accepted the cup gratefully. “Thanks,” he murmured. Then without so much as a warning, he turned and pressed his lips to the hollow of Draco’s throat. The blond gasped softly, but Potter was already up and sipping his coffee as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Across the hall, McGonagall dabbed her mouth with a napkin, evidently trying to hide a smile.

Draco shook his head hopelessly and went back to his breakfast.

****

For once, they spent the day without any major mishaps. They spent their first few hours wandering around the castle. Harry insisted on visiting all his favourite haunts. That boy had spent far too much time in the Room of Requirement in Draco’s opinion. When they stepped in, the room promptly provided them lighted candles, a steaming bath and a huge bed covered in rose petals. Harry whooped in delight while Draco chose to make a run for the door at once.

Then, they had lunch in the Astronomy Tower because Draco was sick and tired of being accosted by Slytherins and Gryffindors alike, demanding a rematch. Potter snagged his sandwich and Draco nicked his pumpkin juice, so all in all fair trade.

Soon enough, they were back outside. Draco chose to read quietly by the lake, while Harry decided to play coach again. He was with the Ravenclaw team this time, shouting encouragement and giving pointers wherever possible. Draco found his eyes drifting from his novel and lingering on Potter longer than necessary.

He seemed to like being around children. He laughed and traded jokes and offered advice freely. They seemed to like him too. Most of them hung on his every word, following him around the pitch with incessant pleas to demonstrate his best moves. Harry obliged them all with an easy manner.

It was… nice, Draco thought. Potter would make an excellent father someday. As was habit, he grimaced at the thought. Still, he supposed it would be nice to see that side of Harry. In theory of course, and only to satisfy his sense of curiosity.

Still…

“Damn, the little buggers can fly,” a voice declared. Draco didn’t bother looking up. He was used to Potter sneaking up on him by now. His fiancé settled next to him with a sigh of relief. “I’m exhausted.”

“Perhaps you’re just getting old,” Draco retorted, burying himself in his book again. He could almost feel Potter’s look of indignation. Draco smirked to himself.

“I’ll show you old,” Potter growled, snatching the book up nimbly and hauling Draco up again for a kiss. Draco hissed in aggravation as Potter’s mouth found his again. He indulged his fiancé for about five seconds before picking up the discarded book and smacking him on the head.

“Behave. There are children around.”

“We’re engaged!” Potter protested, rubbing his head gingerly.

“That doesn’t give you free rein to act like a heathen in public.” He ignored Potter’s pouting and continued reading, only to stop as something nudged his way on to his lap.

“Harry!” Draco he snapped, glaring down at the man who had comfortably settled with his head in Draco’s lap. “Have you no sense of personal boundaries?”

“Nope,” Harry declared cheekily, staring up at Draco. Suddenly, his brow furrowed in a frown. “You have a birthmark under your chin,” he announced, reaching up to trace it with his fingers.

“I’m aware,” Draco replied; trying to hedge away from Potter’s curious probing. “Potter, stop manhandling me. I’m trying to read.”

“Let me see,” Potter insisted, tipping Draco’s chin up to get a look. The blond huffed but complied. Potter was just going to be stubborn again. In the past week or so, Draco had learnt to pick his battles. If he gave the man these little victories, he was more likely to get his way on more important things. He tried not to think about how that reasoning made him sound a lot like a wife.

“It looks a bit like a cat,” Potter declared finally. He released Draco’s chin and the blond stared down at him.

“Really,” he drawled. Potter nodded, rather sure of his observation. “Definitely a cat,” he reassured Draco.

“You’re an imbecile,” Draco retorted. “Now do you mind if I get back to reading? You can inspect me for blemishes some other time.”

“Promise?” Potter smirked. Draco rolled his eyes and smacked the git with the book again.

“Spoilsport,” Potter muttered. Draco grinned and returned to his book. And if his hand drifted to casually stroke at Harry’s hair as he read, he didn’t notice.

****

Draco woke abruptly and blinked in sleepy surprise. It was dark and he was still outside, sitting by the lake. And he was alone.

“Harry?” he mumbled anxiously. He was nowhere in sight. Draco pouted. Surely, Harry hadn’t left him out here? Well, he might have. It was hardly a long walk to their room and perhaps he had just assumed that Draco would come back when he woke up. But still, the idea that Harry had just gone off without him hurt a bit.

“Hey. I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon,” a voice crooned softly. Draco started as Harry crouched next to him, looking concerned.

“Where were you?” he demanded, wishing he didn’t sound so whiny.

Harry chuckled and thumbed his cheek lightly. “I went to see Slughorn. I was only gone a few minutes. I figured you’d still be asleep when I got back.”

“You left me,” Draco retorted sullenly. He was feeling rather petulant about it. “Why’d you go see Slughorn?”

Harry waved it off. “Nothing important; just thought I’d say hi. You were fast asleep so…”

“You should’ve woken me,” Draco insisted.

“I couldn’t,” Harry grinned. “You just looked so… cute.”

“You’re really pushing it, Potter,” Draco grumbled, trying to stand. His legs were stiff thanks to being cramped up all day and he couldn’t quite get them to cooperate. He wobbled and almost collapsed, but Harry grabbed hold of him just in time. “Hang on,” he advised, holding Draco upright.

The next second, Draco squeaked in alarm as he found himself hoisted up in his fiancé’s arms and being carried back to his room. Out of instinct he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck to steady himself. Potter chortled and hoisted him up, marching across the grounds effortlessly. Draco was not amused. “I am not your blushing bride!” he snapped, flushing with embarrassment.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Potter snickered. “Merlin, you’re light. Do you eat at all?”

“Put me down at once!”

“You can’t walk, genius. It’ll take you ages to get to the room and I’m not about to wait that long.”

“Then go ahead. I’ll walk up myself!”

Potter smirked at him. “You were sulking because I left you alone not two minutes ago,” he pointed out smugly. “Admit it, Draco. You love it when I spoil you.”

“I tolerate it,” Draco sniffed. “Because you are a brute who never listens to reason.”

“Well, tolerate it now. Because I’m your fiancé and I’m going to exercise the few - very few - privileges I have.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Very subtle, Potter. And you get enough privileges. I let you snog me and I don’t throw things at you anymore.”

“Lucky me,” Potter groused. But he pulled Draco closer anyway, compelling the blond to rest against his shoulder. By the time they were in the room Draco was almost asleep again, lulled by the warmth of Harry’s body and his solid presence.

He whined when he was laid out on the bed. Harry shushed him and tucked the blankets around him but he was cold again and he really didn’t want to wake up in this big bed alone. Draco mumbled and tightened his grip around the man’s neck. “Draco, let go,” Potter whispered. “It’s time to sleep now.”

“Stay,” Draco demanded.

“No,” Harry replied firmly. “Come on, let go.”

Draco held on mulishly and Harry sighed, trying to pry his fingers off. “Stop it, you brat. If I sleep here, you’ll just kick up a fuss in the morning.”

“I won’t,” Draco insisted. He looked up at Harry with imploring grey eyes and angled for his best pout. “Please, Harry? I’m cold.”

Harry gaped at him, apparently torn. “That is really unfair,” he declared finally.

Draco smirked and shifted over to make room. “You better remember this in the morning,” Harry grumbled, slipping in beside him. He put his arms around Draco and pulled him closer. Draco curled into his chest with a sigh of contentment and closed his eyes.

Yes, Potter could have his little victories.

As long as Draco got his way on the important stuff.

****

It was a few days later when Harry pointed out that they should probably think about returning to their normal lives. Draco had found himself not entirely enthralled with the thought. Their brief time at Hogwarts had been pleasant - defying all his expectations - and he had grown to like it.

He had also grown to like Harry. That had definitely defied all his expectations.

At the very least, he certainly liked sleeping next to Harry. And snogging him. And waking up with him. And snogging him again.

Draco smiled to himself. At least, Harry would still be around, even if Hogwarts wasn’t. Silver lining and all that…

He sauntered down the corridors, making his way to McGonagall’s office. Harry had asked to meet him there so they could Floo back to his apartment. Draco of course, could have gone back to the Manor directly but he found himself wanting to spend some time with Harry before parting ways. They certainly wouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed once he was back home. Or snogging whenever they liked. The thought made him pout.

His mental musings were interrupted by Slughorn who accosted him in the hallway. “Ah Mr Malfoy, just the man I’ve been looking for.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Professor Slughorn,” he greeted amicably.

“Oh now. None of that, dear boy. It’s Horace,” Slughorn clucked. “You’re hardly a student, after all.”

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. “You were looking for me?” he reminded the dithering professor.

“Ah yes, of course. Glad I caught you right before you took off. I’m actually in the process of considering your application - impressive NEWT scores by the way, best I’ve ever seen. Anyway, you’ll have to submit an original paper on a subject of your choice. Bothersome business I know, but it’s required for your application. Of course, I’ll be mailing you the acceptance as soon as you’re finished and you can start right away, but…”

Draco blinked rapidly, getting more confused by the second. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I follow. My… application, did you say?”

“For the Research Assistant Program, of course.” Slughorn replied. “Your fiancé dropped it off last night. Charming lad, Harry is. I’ve known him for years. Have I congratulated you yet? Well of course, you have my fondest…”

“Harry put in an application for me?” Draco blurted. How had Harry even known that…

“Well, it certainly wasn’t for him,” Slughorn chuckled. “Marvellous boy but no talent for Potions. Pity. But he was most insistent that I consider you for the Program. Couldn’t talk enough about your passion for the field. Now, about that paper, Mr Malfoy…”

Draco nodded blankly, completing tuning out the man’s prattling. Harry had done this… for him. Hogwarts had one of the best research programs in the magical world. He hadn’t even considered it, given his dismal luck with the internship. It was everything he could have hoped for and Harry had just given it to him. His chest fluttered almost painfully.

He mumbled a hasty goodbye to Slughorn, promising to send the paper in first thing next week. And then he took off, running full speed down the corridor to Harry.

****

They Flooed into Harry’s flat, having bid McGonagall a brief but warm goodbye. The older witch had wished them her best and sent them on their way with a rare, fond hug. Harry stumbled and steadied himself while Draco landed on his feet, graceful as a cat. Grinning, he turned to the blond.

“Well it’s not much but its home,” he announced sheepishly. “Sorry about the mess. It’s not like I have a house el - ack!”

Harry staggered and sprawled as Draco all but tackled him, wrapping his skinny arms around his neck and welding their lips together. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise as he flailed, and mercifully landed on the sofa with Draco on top of him. So this is what Draco felt like when he accosted him for a snog. Frankly, Harry couldn’t see why he complained so much. It was fucking brilliant.

“What’s… all this… about?” he managed to ask, between frantic kisses. Not that he was complaining at all, mind you. Draco halted his onslaught for a second, breaking away to look at Harry with dark, silver eyes. “Consider it a thank you,” he said, arching against Harry and making him hiss. “For talking to Slughorn.”

Harry’s eyes glinted with understanding. “Found out about that, did you?” he grinned, wrapping a proprietary arm around Draco’s waist and pushing their groins together. Draco whimpered in response, making his blood flare. “If this is the response I get, I’ll make sure every sodding Potions Master in England has your résumé handy by next Tuesday.”

Draco smirked. “One is enough, Potter,” he drawled. His eyes softened as he regarded the man under him, the man who had done so much for him in such a short while. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You didn’t have to. But it’s brilliant and I know the only reason I got it is because of you but it’s…”

“Hey,” Harry broke in softly, carding a hand through Draco’s soft hair. “You deserve to be in that program. You’re passionate and intelligent and while I don’t completely understand why, you’re mad about Potions. I’m just glad I could help.” Draco flushed and buried his head in Harry’s chest, making him chuckle. He tipped the blond’s head back and smiled at him, eyes glinting with hidden mischief. “Now about the rest of my reward…”

Draco wasn’t sure he could pull it off on a narrow couch. And yet, Harry surprised him once again. Quick as you please, he tipped them over so that Draco was under him. Harry growled and snaked a hand between their legs, cupping Draco’s bits and squeezing lightly. The blond gasped and arched into him magnificently. “Brute,” he panted, biting his lip.

Harry nearly came undone. With a snarl, he descended, intending to lick and kiss and suck at every inch of pretty, pale skin laid out under him. Draco moaned and his hands wound their way into his hair, clenching at it as Harry paused to suckle at his throat.

“Harry,” Draco whispered urgently. “Harry, please…”

“Fuck” Harry groaned, wrestling with his shirt. He finally got the damn thing off and chucked it carelessly, immediately latching on to Draco’s throat again. It was brilliant. It was spectacular. And he was finally going to shag his gorgeous…

“Harry James Potter! You better have a damn good excuse for what I just read in… Merlin’s pants!”

Several things happened simultaneously. Draco went rigid as a board under him and then shoved him off. Harry yelped and fell on his arse. Ginny Weasley cowered in the corner, covering her eyes.

“I didn’t see anything!” she announced, still shielding her eyes. “Nothing at all! Harry, put your shirt back on.”

“Salazar’s silk knickers! Ginny, what the hell?!” Harry growled, tugging his shirt on. Draco was gawking unabashedly at the woman and Harry swallowed as his eyes narrowed dangerously. Oh, this would not be good.

“Harry,” he hissed. “What the hell is going on?”

“Um…” Well this was awkward. “Draco, you’ve met Ginny Weasley. Gin, this is Draco. My…”

“I know who she is!” Draco snapped, glaring at Ginny. “Why is she in your apartment?”

That, Harry conceded was an excellent question. And it just so happened that he had several of his own. “How did you get in?” he asked Ginny.

“Your wards went up. I’m spelled in to them, remember?” she snapped at him, throwing Draco a dirty look. “I heard them adjust as soon as you got back.”

“Why is she spelled in to your wards?!” Draco practically snarled, pushing angrily at Harry. His eyes roved the apartment, and he stopped and cocked his head at an ornate, heavy lion statuette that Harry had acquired… somewhere. He Vanished it at once in case Draco got any bright ideas. Then, he turned to face the two people standing in his living room - both of whom he was rather fond of and who looked like they wanted to slaughter him in equal measure.

“I want to talk to you in private,” Ginny gritted, looking about a hairs’ breadth from throwing Bat Bogeys around.

“Whatever you want to say to my fiancé, you can damn well say it in front of me!” Draco snapped. Apparently, he had a point to prove because he marched up to Harry, grabbed him by the collar and smashed their lips together. Ginny shrieked and Harry floundered and flailed, sputtering into the kiss before finally managing to pull his jealous fiancé off him. “Okay, she gets it,” he whispered, nipping affectionately at Draco’s bottom lip. “I’m all yours.”

“I’ll brand you if I have to,” he retorted. Harry grinned. He was pretty sure Draco wasn’t joking. In the corner, Ginny cleared her throat meaningfully. She was not going to take no for an answer. Harry sighed.

“Just give me a minute, okay?” he murmured to Draco. The blond scowled and Harry gave him a pleading look. Draco sighed and nodded reluctantly. He shot Ginny an evil glare and then yanked at Harry’s collar again, pressing their lips together for another kiss.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake!” Ginny cried out. Draco broke away from Harry, gave her a smirk and then sauntered over to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Harry faced his fuming friend, the tense silence thickening around them by the second. “So I’ve been reading the Prophet these past few days,” Ginny announced in that saccharine, honeyed tone that always preceded great misfortune and pain. Harry cringed as her eyes narrowed. “Guess what I learnt? Apparently, that my best friend is not only seeing Draco Malfoy - prat extraordinaire - but is engaged to him and then skipped the bloody country!”

“I can explain?”

“Can you? Can you really?”

“Well…”

“Because I would love to hear it, Harry! Please do try to explain how you are not only engaged to that hellcat, but apparently you didn’t see fit to tell me!”

“It’s a long story,” Harry mumbled. Ginny gave him the hands on her hips stance and glared him down. Harry cringed. “I’m sorry. It just happened so fast and, I was going to tell you! I will tell you. Just give me a little time to get Draco calmed down again.”

Ginny gave him a rather impressive glower, before deciding that he’d had enough. “Dinner then” she declared. “We’ll fix a date. You and Malfoy; I want the whole story. Every last detail.”

“I promise,” Harry declared fervently.

“Oh, and Ron and Hermione will be there,” she smirked. “That’s what you get for keeping secrets from me. If you thought I was bad, you’re going to love Ron’s reaction.”

Harry groaned, but he supposed he deserved it. Ginny smiled and ruffled his hair - a peace offering. “You’re happy?” she asked.

Harry hesitated but gave her a nod. “I am,” he said quietly.

“Well then,” Ginny shrugged. “I guess that’s that. But don’t think this is over, Harry. We’re going to talk about this.” She smiled at him. “Just not now. I’ll see myself out.” She gave him a wink as she left. “By the way, he’s probably raving with jealousy right about now. If I were you, I’d be in there.”

Harry chuckled as she left. She disappeared into the fireplace and he immediately bolted for his room. Draco was in his arms faster than he could blink. “Mine,” he snapped, wrapping his legs around Harry and angling for a kiss. Harry grinned and collapsed on the bed, with his armful of writhing blond. And as Draco attacked his lips and neck and collarbone with unparalleled fervour, he resolved to have Ginny over more often.

****

The days passed in a blur of activity as Harry geared up for the first game of the season. He alternated every second of his day between gruelling practice, sleeping and shoving off reporters who accosted him for exclusive stories. Wood had been adamant that he get his head in the game, considering that they actually had a chance of making it to the Finals this season. So, Harry had fallen into practice with single-minded determination intent on acquiring the coveted Cup.

This left him with almost no free time to spend with Draco who by the way was not at all happy with this sudden change of circumstances. Of course, he had his own set of problems - working almost full time for the Hogwarts Program and decimating Howlers and assorted hate mail from the concerned public. The few times that he saw Harry, he was either too tired or too put off to make conversation. In fact, most times he wouldn’t say anything at all. He would sulk in a corner when Harry visited, watching his fiancé read quietly for anything between ten to forty minutes. Then he would approach him and curl up on the man’s chest, resuming his pouting. Harry would stroke his hair as he read, enjoying the semi comfortable silence until he got bored. Then he would snog Draco as if he’d been starving for him, not stopping until the blond was moaning and writhing. Lucius would make an appearance by this time and promptly kick him out, much to Draco’s displeasure.

All in all, it wasn’t so bad.

His day dreaming made him smile and the sudden blast of a loud whistle inches from his ear was a rather rude awakening.

“Fuck!” Harry swore, rubbing his abused ear and glaring at Wood. “What was that about?”

“You’re not paying attention!” he claimed, gesturing wildly. “We have to go over the strategy pitch or we’re going to lose against the Puddlemere Prats first game in the season! Now when you see the Snitch, I want you to…”

“Catch it?” Harry offered dryly.

“So you were listening. Brilliant! Now everyone get out there and give me a reason to break out the good Firewhisky tonight. Go Canons!”

Harry rolled his eyes and hoisted up his broom, following his whooping teammates out to the pitch. As always, the sight of the roaring crowd spilling over the stadium and the sea of flying banners made his blood pump and his head buzz with excitement. But a tug of nostalgia tempered his happiness. His lips tugged at the memory of that ridiculous match they’d had at Hogwarts. Jack’s excitement and Billy Johnson’s brazen flying and… and Draco laughing and taunting him with a smile on his lips and his graceful, easy flight and his sharp eye searching for the Snitch. It was the most fun he’d had in years.

Damn, he missed it. He missed him.

“The Cup, Harry,” Heidi whispered to him. “We actually have a shot at it.”

Harry nodded. He couldn’t explain the sudden coil of unease wrapping around his stomach.

“This is it, Harry,” Heidi murmured again. “Everything we’ve always wanted.”

Harry’s eyes hardened. “Everything we’ve always wanted,” he agreed. Heidi smiled and mounted her broom. He followed after her, trying to ignore the little voice inside his head that insisted that there was something else. Something important. And that he was in danger of losing it forever.

****

“Twenty minutes!” Oliver shrieked, grabbing the disgruntled Puddlemere Captain and swinging him around. “Twenty fucking minutes into the game! That’s my boy! Eat your heart out, Holmes!”

“Oh, sod off!” Holmes snapped, shrugging him off and storming off the pitch. Oliver turned and flashed a billion galleon grin at Harry, who gave him a half-hearted smile. The Snitch fluttered petulantly in his fingers.

“Good game, Potter,” Zabini smirked. “It’s nice to have a little competition for once.” He clapped Harry on the shoulder and in true sportsman spirit, congratulated the rest of the team before taking off after his sulking captain.

Harry was immediately surrounded by a whooping, victorious sea of orange. “Next time give the rest of us a chance to play,” Heidi said, giving him a congratulatory hug. Harry returned the gesture, smiling and laughing with his team. They cheered and whooped and made absolute arses of themselves and Harry watched them, half amused and half embarrassed. Frankly, they were worse than the kids at Hogwarts. That thought dredged up some unwanted feelings again and he excused himself, making a break for the locker rooms.

He didn’t even realize he had been running until he screeched to a halt and slumped against a bench, panting, He felt… sick. The broomstick felt heavy in his hand and he let it fall with a clatter. The Snitch was still buzzing in his fingers and in a vicious surge of emotion that he couldn’t quite understand, he chucked it away. It buzzed away, glinting like a gold bird in the sky. He needed to see Draco. He had to see him…

“And the conquering hero returns with spoils of war. Marvellous game, Potter. Fabulous form if I do say so myself,” a voice drawled, uncomfortably close to him.

Harry gnashed his teeth and prayed for patience. Couldn’t he just catch a break? “Go away, Rita,” he retorted, sounding as hollow as he felt.

“No need to be sullen, Potter. I am simply offering my congratulations,” she crowed, sidling next to him. Her acid green robes made him feel like retching and her Quill poked his arm uncomfortably. She gave him a sharp grin that reminded him vividly of a vulture he had once seen on Animal Planet. “And since I know how much you hate beating around the bush, let’s just get to it. A quote for our readers, perhaps?”

“Talk to the Captain,” Harry growled. He was in no mood for this. “Oliver makes the press appearances for the team, not me.”

“Now don’t be bashful, Potter. We both know that the public would much rather hear from you,” she insisted, prodding him again with that blasted quill. “Tell me about your inspiration. If I may venture a guess it wouldn’t be a certain blond, silver eyed devil that inspired those daring manoeuvres, would it?”

“Get out of my way!” Harry snarled. The force of his reaction seemed to shake Rita for a nano-second. Then her lips split in a shark like grin and she was back, hovering around him like a relentless mosquito. “Well, that’s certainly not the reaction I expected, but do go on. This is writer’s gold. Trouble in paradise, perhaps? Is Draco Malfoy’s sordid past finally catching up to the two of you? Which reminds me, how exactly did an ex Death Eater manage to snare the Coveted Saviour of All Magical Kind? Or was it you who found yourself enamoured by his charms? I suppose spoils of war can be used in a several contexts, eh Potter? Did you perhaps…”

Harry had heard enough. He was shaking with rage and every poisoned word out of her mouth about Draco was spurring him to something drastic. He didn’t even spare a thought for the repercussions as he turned and pointed his wand in her face. “Don’t say another word,” he intoned, his tone deathly quiet. “I mean it, Skeeter. One more misplaced word about my fiancé and you’ll be spending the rest of your life in a glass jar. And I don’t mean as the filthy dung beetle you are.”

Rita lifted her chin, but he noted her hand tightening around the Quill. “I’m merely asking a question, Potter.”

“No, you’re making insinuations,” Harry hissed. “Draco Malfoy is not a Death Eater. He is by far, the most brilliant, intelligent and upstanding person I have ever had the privilege of knowing and I will not have him slandered by the likes of you. So crawl back in your little hole, Skeeter. And tell that rag you call a paper - Harry Potter does not stand for idle gossip about the man he loves. Now for the last time, get out of my face or I’ll make you.”

“Fine,” she drawled, backing away. “You win, Potter. We’ll do this again when you’re less homicidal.”

Harry’s jaw was tight and he willed himself not to hex her in the back as she sauntered away. Wearily, he slumped to the ground and held his head in his hands. His words rattled in the confines of his frayed mind.

Harry Potter does not stand for idle gossip about the man he loves.

The man he loves.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered.

What had he done?

****

He wasn’t entirely aware of Flooing into Malfoy Manor in the dead of the night. Honestly, with the amount of alcohol in his system, he was surprised he hadn’t ended up in France or something. But here he was, swaying and stumbling his way to Draco’s room, as if it were second nature.

He felt sick to his stomach and guilty as fuck, to boot. And he half felt like he had no right to be here at all, but it was cold and lonely and he wanted to see Draco. To touch him and kiss him and to assure himself that he was still there. Like a zombie, he made his way up the staircase and to Draco’s room, thankful that Lucius was nowhere in the vicinity.

To his credit, he made it to the door before stumbling. His head thunked against the wood as he fell and he was on his back, blinking blearily when Draco opened the door. The blond stared down at him, his beautiful mouth twisted in a smirk that was half amusement and half annoyance.

“Too much celebration, Potter?” he asked, kneeling down next to Harry. Harry smiled and trailed a hand through his hair. “You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled. He felt better. Draco was here.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Right, clearly too much. Come on then, let’s get you inside before Father has an aneurism.” He grabbed hold of Harry by his wrists and pulled him up, nearly stumbling as the taller man all but leaned into him. “Pretty Blondie,” Harry cooed, wrapping his arms around him. Draco felt nice and warm against his chest and he didn’t ever want to let go.

“Remind me to hex you for saying that in the morning,” Draco drawled, tugging him inside. It was considerably difficult to shepherd Harry around, but he managed it. He pushed him gently on the bed and Harry landed with a muffled oof.

“Oh, stop fussing,” Draco snipped, tugging his shoes off. “Maybe tomorrow’s hangover will teach you not to drink so much.”

“We won the match,” Harry felt obliged to explain. “I caught th’ Snitch in twenty minutes.”

“And I’m very proud of you,” Draco chuckled, pressing a kiss to his head. “But look at the state you’re in. Honestly Harry, sometimes you act like you’re still fifteen.”

“I missed you,” Harry mumbled. He grabbed hold of Draco’s arm and tugged. The blond careened into him with a surprised gasp, tumbling into Harry’s chest. He scowled at Harry who blinked back in response. Draco’s eyes softened.

“I missed you too, you absolute neanderthal,” he chided, brushing Harry’s hair back. “But you should know better than to get completely sloshed. Now come on, lift up your arms. I’m going to take your shirt off.”

“Sorry, cutie. I’m taken. Engaged, actually,” Harry retorted. Draco rolled his eyes and pulled the shirt off with a swift tug.

“Roll over,” he ordered. Harry pouted. He wanted to look at Draco more, maybe call him pretty again. But the blond was insistent and with a little help, he rolled over on his stomach surrendering to his tender mercies. He tensed slightly, when Draco straddled his back. His long legs brushed Harry’s sides and the Gryffindor’s brow furrowed in confusion. What was he… then long, capable fingers traced his spine and Harry sighed. Draco kneaded his back, working diligently to soothe the tightened muscles. His movements were smooth and practiced and Harry found himself relaxing against the gentle pressure on his abused frame.

“Feel better?” Draco murmured softly. He was working on Harry’s shoulder blades, soothing away the tension in his stressed, drawn muscles.

“Perfect,” Harry moaned. “Can you go a little lower? Just a… oh yeah. Right there.”

Draco laughed and obliged him. Harry sighed in contentment and closed his eyes. “I figured you’d need this,” the blond commented. “I read about your little standoff with Skeeter in the Evening Prophet. Did you really threaten to disembowel her if she spoke ill of me?”

Harry felt anger flare in his gut again. “She said you were spoils of war,” he muttered.

Draco laughed again. “Well, that’s certainly a creative way of looking at it. Can’t say I’m completely opposed to the idea myself but…”

“Don’t talk like that!” Harry growled, getting up abruptly. He tipped Draco over and prowled over him, glowering at the surprised blond. “Never talk like that,” Harry repeated. His body was shaking and he felt like a hundred emotions were battling their way out of him right now…

“Harry?” Draco murmured tentatively, stroking his cheek.

“She can’t talk about you like that,” Harry declared. “No one can.”

“Harry, it’s okay. I don’t care about…”

“It’s not okay!” Harry burst out. “You’re not something I acquired. You’re beautiful and brilliant and you don’t deserve to be spoken of that way. You deserve someone who takes care of you and puts up with your crazy obsession for passion fruit cocktails and loves you! Without any condition. Just… love.”

Draco looked confused, and somewhat scared. His eyes were wide and silver and they seemed to burn a hole right through Harry. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

Harry shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong,” he all but whispered. “I just… I can’t…”

“Tell me,” Draco replied quietly. “I’m here, Harry. I’ll listen.”

Harry felt his throat clench and his stomach twist. Guilt, the likes of which he had never imagined threatened to surge inside and choke the very life out of him. Draco was under him, his gaze reflecting iron clad trust and conviction. And he had failed him. He had betrayed this beautiful person. Bought his way into Draco’s life for a shot at a cheap trophy. Used him. Deceived him. And what was worse, he couldn’t even tell him. He couldn’t face up to it, because the idea of losing Draco terrified him. Harry couldn’t imagine a day without him, let alone a lifetime. And if he said anything at all, Draco would leave. His pride wouldn’t stand for this. How had things become so fucked up? How had he allowed this to happen? Despair washed over him. All he had was lie after lie after lie. Draco deserved so much more. He deserved better than a fucking cheat who had…

“Harry, please,” Draco sounded alarmed now, almost frantic. “You’re scaring me. Just… just tell me what it is. I’ll help you, Harry. I’ll be here. Please, I… I love you, Harry.”

Harry almost sobbed out aloud. He couldn’t. Those words shattered the fragile semblance of courage that he had dredged up. His guilt and his pain and everything else couldn’t measure up to losing Draco. Knife twisting in his gut, he choked back his tears and smiled down at his beautiful fiancé. “I love you too,” he whispered. “I love you so much, Draco.”

“Are you… is that what this is all about?” Draco asked, visibly relaxing.

Harry nodded, feeling like scum. Draco huffed and smacked his chest half-heartedly. “Idiot,” he snapped. “You scared the life out of me!”

“I can’t lose you,” Harry mumbled against his cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” Draco murmured, wrapping his arms around him. “I admit I wasn’t entirely happy with how things started out between us. But… but you’ve been wonderful, Harry. You’ve been kind and considerate and you… you take care of me. When I’m with you, I don’t want anything to change ever. I love you.”

He felt better. Better than he deserved, he knew. But Draco’s fervent words were a balm to his wrecked conscience and he chose to be selfish just this once. “Let me stay,” he pleaded. “I want to be next to you. Please, I can’t… I can’t go home right now.”

“Hush,” Draco murmured, pressing his lips to Harry’s forehead. “No one is going to make you leave, Harry. I’m right here. Right here next to you. I’m yours forever, okay?”

Harry nodded numbly and Draco smiled. “Good. Now get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

And as he pulled Draco closer and curled into him, Harry did just that. Things would look better in the morning. He knew they would. He had Draco.

****

Draco came to his next match. He sat in the stands and he put up with hisses of protest and clicking cameras and resentful mutterings. He ignored distasteful comments and cheered for Harry. It wasn’t easy or pleasant but he did it. And Harry loved him even more for it, if such a thing was possible.

His eyes narrowed in on a glint of golden light at the end of the pitch. By pure instinct, he took off like a bolt of lightning, chasing it down. He could feel the Harpies Seekers’ relentless pursuit and the crowd blurred around him. He had to catch the Snitch. Draco was out here putting up with shite for him. The least he could do was not let him down.

The Snitch hedged to the right in a flutter. His opponent saw it first and jagged across the pitch. With a howl of frustration, Harry gave chase. She was well ahead of him and his only hope was offense. Harry made up his mind. He knew exactly what he needed to do.

He swooped around until he was bearing to the left. The turbulence nearly threw him off balance but the decrease in drag enabled a much faster flight. She was inches away and just as her hand reached out to grab the snitch, he swooped above her and pulled off the twist. Her eyes widened in surprise as Harry almost but not quite knocked into her and she lurched in mid-air, barely steadying herself and keeping from falling. It was one millisecond of an advantage, and it was all he needed to snatch the Snitch right out of the air.

A perfectly executed Malfoy Manoeuvre.

The crowd howled and Harry raised his fist in triumph, bearing the Snitch. It was his. He swooped around the pitch, his eyes raking the crowd for the one person he wanted to see.

Even in the mass of thousands, Draco’s blond hair was easily visible. Harry grinned and flew down to him, ignoring the referee’s whistle. Draco laughed as he hovered above him, eyes shining with mirth and delight. “Tell me you didn’t just do that,” he managed, incredulity lacing his voice.

Harry grinned and shrugged in answer. “For you,” he declared, presenting the snitch to Draco. The camera flashes around them almost blinded him and the crowd’s disapproving rumble surged. For a second, Draco hesitated. He gazed up at Harry with doubt in his silver eyes, and Harry’s jaw tightened. “They can all fuck off for all I care,” he declared. “Every day with you is worth it.”

Draco’s brilliant smile was everything he could have ever hoped for. The blond took the Snitch and Harry grabbed his wrist, tugging him forward. “Let’s give the bastards something to write about,” he whispered against his lips.

Draco closed his eyes and melted into the kiss. A thousand cameras went off around them.

And Harry truly didn’t give a fuck.

****

“I won’t do it,” Andromeda declared, lifting her chin stubbornly. Her entire body was rigid and her cheeks were tinted with a rosy blush. Her arms were crossed, giving her the look of something both alluring and vulnerable. Lucius liked it.

He smirked unrepentantly and waved The Prophet in her face. The image of Potter glued to his son’s mouth - nauseating as it was - only served to prove his point. “We had a deal, my dear,” he drawled. “Surely you don’t mean to go back on it? Where is your sense of honour?”

“But…”

“But nothing, Andromeda. It was a most specific wager. You were utterly dismissive of my genius.” Andromeda responded with a rather unladylike snort which he chose to ignore. “Your exact words I believe were that this would blow up in my face. Well, see for yourself. Draco is obviously happy and the marriage is secure. My… delicate engineering of circumstance has not left anyone worse for wear. I think it is time for you to bow down gracefully and accept defeat.”

Andromeda glanced at The Prophet reluctantly. “They do seem happy,” she admitted softly. Then recalling her predicament, she scowled at her smirking companion. “But that does not mean I am compelled to indulge your outrageous demands!”

“Fair is fair, my sweet,” Lucius smirked. “You lost the wager. Now pay your dues.”

Andromeda flushed, utterly mortified. “Lucius, please! I… it’s been so long. I haven’t… not since Ted…”

Lucius’ face softened and he held out a hand. “I’ll take you through it,” he promised. She hesitated and he felt compelled to voice a plea. “Please, Andromeda. I just want it so much.” Those silver eyes seemed to look right through her. Andromeda teetered, before finally giving in. “You are a manipulative cad,” she declared, placing a shaky hand in his large, firm one. The contact made her cheeks flare, but Lucius looked stoic and marble like as ever. Still, the warmth reached his eyes as he gazed at her.

“Thank you,” he whispered gratefully. “Please, follow me.”

Andromeda willed her shaking limbs to follow him. He led her to the centre of the almost bare room and she gasped softly. “I… I can’t, Lucius. I…”

“It’s alright,” he soothed immediately. “I promise it will be wonderful. Please, come here.”

She stepped closer to him. The scent of expensive cologne washed over her. Andromeda took a shuddering breath and placed a shaking hand on Lucius’ shoulder. He sighed softly - almost in relief, it seemed - and placed a gentle hand on the small of her back. The warm weight settled her somewhat and she felt almost calm.

“Ready when you are,” she whispered.

Lucius smiled and raised his wand. The music spell washed over the room and Andromeda sighed as the soothing melody of La Serenade wash over her. Lucius moved and she followed gracefully, melting into his larger frame as he led her with ease and precision. She laughed out as he executed a playful spin and twirled back in his arms gracefully.

“I can see why you missed ballroom dancing so much,” she smiled as he turned her around gently and enveloped her in his arms. “You’re brilliant.”

“You make me brilliant,” he replied softly. “And for that, I thank you.” His fingers flexed against her back, as if he wanted to pull her closer. Andromeda smiled softly and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning against his chest. She closed her eyes, basking in warm contentment as Lucius continued to sway her to the music.

Neither noticed two pairs of eyes, watching from the foyer with apparent amusement.

“Bit of a shock?” Harry enquired, not entirely able to read the blond’s blank expression.

Draco scoffed. “It’s a relief actually. They’ve been tip-toeing around each other for years. Oh, remind me to talk to Blaise, will you? He owes me ten galleons.”

Harry gave him a playful shove which Draco returned. As silently as they had entered, they padded away. Inside, La Serenade played on and Lucius Malfoy smiled as he held a wonderful woman in his arms once again.

****

The Dinner, as Harry had started dubbing it in his head had seemed near impossible at first. Draco had kicked up a fuss of epic proportions of course, and had flat out refused to go if she would be there. It had taken the better part of an hour to convince him that Harry had no interest in Ginny Weasley save that of a friend.

“I see the way you talk,” Draco grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “All the inside jokes and the laughing and the flirting… and don’t you tell me there’s no flirting. I’m not blind, Potter. And the…”

“That’s just how it is!” Harry squawked, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Look, Ginny is… we were together and I admit at one point, I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else. But that was a very long time ago,” he added hurriedly as Draco growled. “She’s my friend and my friends are important to me. You have to understand that.”

“Just a friend?” Draco had asked suspiciously.

“Just a friend,” Harry grinned, kissing his forehead. “Think of her as my Zabini.”

He hadn’t expected Draco’s eyes to light up with intent speculation. “She is, isn’t she?”

“What?” Harry demanded.

“Nothing,” Draco replied, a slow grin breaking out on his pale face. “I just had an idea. Will you excuse me? I need to send an owl…”

****

Soon, they were seated in an up end Lounge on the ritzy side of Diagon Alley. Draco had chosen the location and Harry was thankful. The décor was sophisticated but intimate. And security was tight so reporters couldn’t bother them. That was where his happiness ended though.

Hermione sat across from them, twirling a strand of hair uncomfortably in her fingers. Now and then, she gave them polite smiles, but mostly her eyes drifted to Draco eyeing him quizzically. Ron just looked like he had swallowed a lemon. Ginny sat beside Draco, apparently trying to smoke her lungs out. At least she was valiantly trying to make conversation and even managed to engage Draco once in a while. Harry could have kissed her.

“Excuse me,” Ron broke in, apparently unable to take it. “Just checking, but are we seriously going to sit here all night and not talk about the erumpent in the room?”

“Excellent point, brother mine. There are questions that need answering,” Ginny quipped, turning to Harry and Draco. “Like, where’s this hot date of mine you promised? Or am I going to have to ask that fine, young fellow at the bar if he likes it on the rocks?”

Harry and Hermione chuckled and even Draco let out a surprised bark of laughter. “Ginny!” Ron yelped, covering his ears. “I swear to Merlin, we’re getting you married next!”

“Sod off, Ronniekins,” she smirked, releasing a spire of smoke. “Nobody’s taking me down without a fight.”

“Sound familiar, Draco?” a voice drawled behind them. The small gathering turned in unison, watching as a suave, well-dressed man approached them.

“You’re late, you heathen,” Draco drawled, raising an eyebrow. “Your date was about to go bartender hunting.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Blaise replied, giving Ginny an appreciative once over. “Hello, Red.”

The young witch gave him a challenging look in return and flicked her cigarette. “Zabini. Just passing through?” she asked, hopefully.

Blaise’s eyes lit up in unmistakable interest and he immediately moved over to where she was sitting. “Not anymore, he declared ardently. Budge over, princess.”

“Make yourself at home,” Ginny replied blithely. She got up and slipped past him effortlessly. “I want to dance. Care to escort a lady to the floor, handsome?”

Draco blinked in surprise as he realized she was talking to him. Blaise glared at him as if it was his fault and Draco rolled his eyes. “I’d be delighted,” he drawled, taking her arm and leading her away.

Blaise slid in next to Harry, watching the retreating witch with an interest just bordering on this side of hungry. “Firefly,” he drawled, half to himself.

“Down, boy,” Harry intoned dryly. Blaise grinned at him and ordered a drink. “So Weasley, Granger - make any new kids lately?”

****

“So you and Harry,” Ginny said, as he swirled around with her. She was light and dainty in his arms and moved with a natural grace. He could see how Harry had fallen hard for her. Their easy relationship still made him somewhat nervous, but he was slowly coming to the grudging conclusion that he had nothing to fear from this young woman. She seemed genuinely concerned for Harry’s well-being. But she had also gone out of her way to make him feel welcome in their midst. He found he rather liked her flippant manners and easy charm. “What about us?” he asked.

“I’m happy for you,” she replied. “I think you’re good for him.”

“Thanks,” he replied sceptically. He didn’t really agree. Harry was happy with him, but it didn’t mean he was good for him. The Press, for one thing had been horrible. Harry had faced a lot of nasty commentary in the past, but nothing came close to the catastrophe their engagement had wrecked. And he admitted that sometimes he feared it would be too much for both of them to handle.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Not really.”

“You should. He smiles more with you. He talks and laughs. And it feels like he’s finally going after the things that make him happy. He’s better and apparently that’s all on you.”

Draco smiled at her, feeling genuinely grateful. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“Of course if you hurt him, I’ll be toasting your bollocks on an open flame and serving them with French vinaigrette.”

He rolled his eyes. “Charming. And no, I don’t plan to hurt him. He’s… been good for me too.”

Ginny grinned. “Brilliant. Now dip me. And make sure Zabini sees.”

Draco grinned and obliged. Her laughter echoed in the room and from the corner of his eye, he saw Harry grinning at them. Blaise however, was marching up to them with a determined tic in his jaw.

“My turn, Blondie,” he groused, disengaging Draco easily and sweeping the petite girl up. “Go dance with your husband for a while.”

Draco returned Ginny’s mischievous wink and backed away, giving them space to twirl away. He turned, nearly running into Harry as he did. He looked up into brilliant green eyes and grinned.

“One of these days Potter, I will catch you sneaking up on me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Harry retorted. His hand stroked Draco’s hip tentatively. “Dance with me?” he whispered.

And Draco did.

****

Harry leaned on a lamppost in the Alley, trying to collect his thoughts. It was quiet and he could hear faint laughter inside. He had excused himself for a few minutes. Draco and Hermione were managing a tentative if slightly stilted conversation and Ron was still sulking, but things could certainly be worse.

He just wished he could get rid of this gnawing… feeling inside of him. Guilt clawed at him constantly, making every minute with Draco torture. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Every day, he was lying to Draco and it was playing havoc on his conscience. How had he become this person? How had…

“Knut for your thoughts?” Ginny said, slipping beside him.

Harry smiled at her. “Tired of dancing?”

She lit a cigarette in response and Harry rolled his eyes. “What’s your excuse?” she asked.

“I’m just… just wanted a little space for a while.”

“Space,” she repeated ominously. “There’s a loaded word.”

“No. It’s nothing. I’m… I just…”

“Harry.” She frowned and put a firm hand on his shoulder. “I asked you before, and I’m asking you again. What aren’t you telling me?”

Harry shrugged helplessly. He felt completely lost. Ginny’s eyes sparked with realization. “There’s something,” she asked quietly. “Tell me and I’ll try to help.”

Harry gave her a beseeching look, pleading with her not to judge him. She nodded firmly, and her grip tightened reassuringly. Harry took a deep breath. “Okay,” he mumbled. “Remember when I…”

“Salazar’s Slimy Serpent! Is everyone out to steal my date?”

Harry’s heart sank as Blaise marched over to them, giving Ginny a cheeky wink. She huffed. “Is there no escaping you?” she asked dryly.

“Said the firefly to the spider,” he drawled. But there was an edge in that easy tone and Harry recognized the sharp glint in the man’s gaze. Blaise gave him a hard look before turning his attention over to Ginny again. “So how about we say our goodbyes to this sorry lot and I’ll step into your parlour?”

“In your dreams, Zabini,” she replied.

“Suit yourself. By the way,” His wrist flicked - as swift as a garden snake - and he plucked the cigarette from her lips. “Smoking is bad for you, Red.”

Ginny huffed and stomped back inside. Zabini watched her leave, making sure she was well out of sight before turning to Harry. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his tone calm and measured.

Harry sneered at him. “What do you think, Zabini?”

“I’ll venture a guess and say that your original plans of courting Draco for the Cup have undergone a drastic re-design.”

Harry glared at him, but said nothing. Zabini tutted and studied his fingernails. “Of course they have. And let’s see if I have this right. I’ll wager that right about now, your blasted moral compass is doing a fantastic impression of the Wronski Feint. So - and this is the fun part Potter - your master plan is to confess to your dishonour and…hmm… just help me out here. Exactly what’s going to happen after that?”

Harry wrenched his hair in frustration. “I don’t know!” he spat. “I don’t know and I don’t care! I can’t live with this anymore. Every time I look at him, every time he smiles at me I feel like… like… I can’t do it anymore. I have to tell him. I have to make him see that…”

Zabini’s bark of laughter cut him off. “See what? That the only thing you saw in him was a passport to your own ambition? That he doesn’t mean anything to you except an easy ticket to the Big Leagues? That all he ever meant to you was…”

“That’s not true!” Harry shouted, clenching at his wand. His finger nails were digging into his palm, drawing blood.

“Draco won’t see it like that!” Zabini snapped back. “When he hears that… when you tell him that you bought your way into his life for a couple broomsticks and a shiny new uniform, it’s going to crush him! He’ll break, Potter! Do you understand that? Is that what you want?”

“No,” Harry choked out. He was shaking like a leaf at the very thought of it. “I love him,” he whispered.

“Then be a man and carry your own damn burden,” Zabini replied quietly. “You did this. He shouldn’t have to suffer.” He brushed past Harry and walked away, leaving him in the darkness.

Harry took a couple of deep, painful breaths - trying to calm his speeding heartbeat. Zabini was right. This was his burden and he had no right to hurt Draco to ease his own guilt.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t set things right, did it? With a sigh, he gathered himself and followed Zabini back inside.

He didn’t notice the innocuous looking beetle perched on the window ledge behind him. Nor did he see the beetle scurry off into an alley and transform into a reedy, bespectacled woman with a grin the size of New Hampshire.

“Got you, Potter,” she whispered gleefully.

****

Lucius sighed as he heard the door of his study slam open. Honestly, Draco was a menace these days. Sometimes, he missed the good old days when he would stomp in here to scream at Lucius. Now he just barged in and interrupted his father’s daily musings to prattle about the latest, amazing thing Potter had done. Lucius however was working, and he was not in the mood to sing praises of Potter the Magnificent.

“Draco, for the last time,” he snapped. “I am happy for you - ecstatic, I assure you - but you are not to waltz in here unannounced and disrupt my… Mr Potter.” Lucius stared at his intruder in mild surprise. The boy looked harried and anxious. He was even scruffier than usual and had clearly not slept. Lucius’ sense of foreboding intensified.

“I won’t take up too much of your time,” Potter said. “I just came by to give you this.” Lucius frowned but accepted the piece of paper from Potter. He glanced through it and took a minute to school his expression. “What’s this?” he asked finally.

“I’m returning your money,” Potter replied quietly.

“Mr Potter, we had a deal. If you think…”

“You misunderstand me, Lucius. I’m not going back on my word. I’m just returning your money.”

“But your team… surely you…”

“I’ll fund the Canons,” Potter replied, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “My parents planned their fortune well. I have enough to see the team through, at least for this season. And a win should bring in more sponsors so…”

“Mr Potter, forgive me for interrupting,” Lucius managed. His head was reeling. Why would the boy do this? “If you recall, I have seen your bank accounts in the past. This…” he gestured vaguely at the document “is roughly seventy percent of everything you own.”

“I know.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. You don’t have to do this. I have every intention of fulfilling our terms if that’s what…”

“I love your son.”

Lucius stopped talking. Potter’s eyes were soft but his voice was calm and determined. He stood proudly before Lucius and spoke like a man who knew what he was doing. “He means everything to me. I can’t do this to him.”

“Mr Potter…”

“Please. Just take it. If there’s anything you want to give me at all, let it be your blessing.”

There was nothing for it. Lucius nodded slowly and folded the cheque, placing it in his desk. Potter visibly relaxed and as much as he hated to admit it, Lucius’ respect for the younger man increased tenfold. He had chosen well, indeed. “You have it,” he said finally. “Both of you.”

“Thank you,” Potter smiled. “I…”

He was cut off by an elf bolting into the office. “Master,” it squeaked. “The paper, if it pleases you sir.”

Lucius sighed and waved the elf off, putting the Prophet on his desk and giving it a cursory look. “More news about you,” he drawled, making Potter chuckle. “That Skeeter woman really earns her pay with…” Lucius trailed off, staring at the headlines.

The Potter Malfoy Saga: All Secrets Finally Revealed!

“What on earth…”

Lucius snatched it up again and scanned the top story.

Oh no. Oh Merlin, no.

How had they even…

Potter seemed to have caught on that something was amiss. He grabbed the paper and skimmed through it. By the time he was finished, he was pale and trembling. “Shite,” he whispered.

“They have no evidence,” Lucius said firmly. “Nothing to prove it. I’ll owl now and have a retraction printed by the evening. We’ll demand a public apology and…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Potter said in a hollow voice. He looked stricken. “He’ll know.”

“Harry…”

“I have to go see him. I… I have to…”

“Wait, boy! Now is not the time to approach him. He’ll… Potter!”

But the boy was already running full speed up the staircase. Lucius heard his frantic footsteps thudding against the carpet.

This was bad. Draco was going to…

Lucius shook his head. Draco could wait. Perhaps, Potter would be able to reason with him. The papers wouldn’t. Now was the time for damage control. Steeling himself, he sat himself down to write out an owl to his lawyer.

The Prophet wouldn’t know what hit them.

****

Harry flew up the staircase, nearly wrenching his ankle in the process. He ignored the stabbing pain and threw Draco’s door open.

Draco was sitting on his bed, staring at the floor. The Prophet was limp in his fingers.

Harry’s heart sank. His knees were weak and shaking. His fiancé looked up at him with hollow eyes. He had never felt so wretched.

“Draco…”

“All secrets to the inexplicable Potter Malfoy courtship have finally seen the light of day,” Draco chanted tonelessly, his eyes not wavering from Harry’s. They were bloodshot and tore right through him like a knife. “Sources and ceaseless investigations from our intrepid reporters have confirmed that everyone’s favourite Quidditch team - the Chudley Canons - received a sizeable donation from one Lucius Malfoy earlier this year, propelling them into the season finals. As our readers will no doubt recall, Harry James Potter…”

“Draco, stop. Please…”

“…Harry James Potter,” Draco cut in forcefully, his voice rising above Harry’s plea. “…plays Seeker for said Canons - and is presently engaged to Malfoy’s son and heir to the fortune, Draco Abraxas Malfoy. Coincidence? We, at the Prophet think not. The real questions still remain. Has our Saviour been bought? Have the Malfoys finally paid their way out of notoriety with a hundred thousand galleons? And has Draco Malfoy succeeded in forging an alliance…”

“Stop it,” Harry whispered. “Draco, stop. Please stop!”

“An alliance that is for all practical purposes a business arrangement for his own…”

“Incendio!”

Harry watched The Prophet catch fire in Draco’s hands. The paper frizzled and crackled, burning away the hateful, horrible words. Draco held on, watching with a detached fascination as the flames licked at his fingers. Harry couldn’t stand it. He reached out to forcibly wrench it away. The sting of fire against his bare fingers made him gasp and his eyes water and he threw the horrible thing away, as far away as he could manage. Draco followed the movement with his eyes, watching dispassionately as it withered away to ash.

“Draco,” Harry whispered, kneeling next to him and placing his hands on Draco’s knees. He would beg. He would grovel if he had to…

Draco turned to look at him, and his eyes held the stillness of blank granite. He held Harry’s own tearing eyes for what felt like hours. “Tell me it’s a lie and I’ll believe you,” he said quietly. Harry clenched his fists and willed himself not to break down. The wavering, pleading note of Draco’s voice nearly killed him inside. “Tell me it’s a lie, Harry. Say it now and I’ll believe you, no matter what.”

Harry choked down a sob. “I can’t,” he replied, hating himself for it. What had he done?

Draco started trembling under his hands. He shuddered and pushed Harry’s hands away as if unable to stand his touch any longer. Harry watched helplessly as he stood abruptly and retreated to the far edge of the room. Harry stayed where he was, watching the man he loved turn his back on him. Draco stared out the window Harry had once climbed in through, so long ago. His slender frame trembled violently.

“How long were you planning to pull one over me?” he asked. “For the rest of my life? Until you won the Cup?” He shook his head and laughed. It sounded choked and mildly hysterical. “Actually don’t answer that. I don’t know which answer is worse.”

“No,” Harry managed, shaking his head frantically. “I wasn’t. I… I wanted to tell you, Draco. It’s not…”

“More lies, Harry?” Draco asked dully. “I suppose that’s fair. It’s what my father paid for, isn’t it?”

“Stop talking like this!” Harry nearly screamed. “Please, just… just look at me.”

With shaking legs, he approached the blond and touched his shoulder. Draco yielded stiffly, turning around to face him. Harry suspected that if he could have, he would have pushed him off, hit him maybe. But all the fight had gone. He really had broken Draco. The thought shattered him and tears streamed down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tracing Draco’s pale features. “I’m so sorry.”

“Get out.”

“Draco, no! Please, let me fix this. I love you. I…”

“Don’t say that,” Draco pleaded in a shattered whisper. A single tear trickled down his face, tracing Harry’s thumb. It burned. In that moment, Harry knew he would have done anything to take Draco’s pain away. But he couldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever.

“Draco, I…”

“Get out, Harry. And don’t… don’t come back. There’s nothing more for you here.”

And with that, he pushed him off and started walking away. “Draco, please…” Harry whispered. The blond halted and for a split second Harry hoped, he prayed that Draco would look back at him. He didn’t.

“Good luck in the Finals, Potter,” he said. His voice was cold, hard - devoid of any emotion. Not even contempt. Harry’s shoulder’s sagged in despair. He sank to the floor and the quiet click of the door closing shattered whatever was left of his heart.

****

Lucius approached his late wife’s room with a heavy heart. This room held so many memories. Echoes of a wonderful life that were almost too painful to relive. His heart had healed after her passing - the process painfully slow. But Draco’s… perhaps that’s why he always sought out this place in his darkest hours.

He pushed the mahogany door open and cast a faint Lumos. Draco’s blond hair gleamed in the light, as he sat hunched up on the floor. His head was bowed and his legs were tucked against his chest. He looked wrecked. Lucius’ only consolation was that he seemed to be faring better than Potter. That boy had been a shadow of himself by the time Lucius had finally convinced him to leave. Potter had looked so shattered that he had forgotten himself for a moment and clasped his shoulder in a gesture of sympathy. Potter either hadn’t or wouldn’t notice. He walked away like an Inferius.

For now however, Lucius had his son to think of. “She would probably hex me if she were here today,” he said. Draco started and looked up at him; not bothering to hide the tear stains against his pale cheeks. Lucius’ heart clenched. “If you wish, you may certainly do so,” he offered.

“Leave, Father.”

He had never been the best parent. He had neglected Draco, chastising and criticising him at every step in his intent to discipline, and left the caring and coddling completely to Narcissa. He wasn’t good at this and he half wished he could approach Andromeda for help. She had flat out refused and wasn’t exactly speaking to him at the moment. So he was on his own.

However, doing as Draco asked was out of the question. He needed a parent’s love and his mother wasn’t here, no matter how much he wished she was.

Lucius would simply have to do.

He sat down on the floor next to Draco, absently wishing that the boy had chosen the bed to wallow in his grief. He seemed to have no intention of moving though, so Lucius sucked it up and stayed there with him.

“Why?” It seemed like ages had passed when Draco finally spoke.

“Because I was worried about you,” Lucius replied. “You were unhappy and alone. And I thought Potter…”

“You paid Potter.”

“That’s really a very crass way of putting things but essentially, yes.”

Draco turned his head and rested it on his knees, staring at him. Lucius met the gaze as steadily as he could. “Are you really that sick of me, Father?” he asked quietly. “You had to pay someone to take me off your hands?”

“Draco!” He couldn’t help the shock in his tone. “How can you suggest such a thing?” Hesitantly, he reached out and carded a hand through his son’s hair. Narcissa had always done it when he was upset. “You are my son. My one and only child. And I haven’t said as much but I suppose I always thought you knew. I have loved you since the first time I saw you in your mother’s arms.”

“Then why, Father?” he whispered brokenly. “Why did you…”

“I can only offer you my reasoning, Draco. And my most sincere apologies. I am sorry, so deeply sorry for deceiving you. I did so with the best intentions and I hope that someday, that will be enough for you to forgive me.”

Draco didn’t reply. He let out a soft sigh and went back to staring at the wall. Lucius accompanied him in silence, until he felt compelled to say one last thing.

“I will however, not apologize for choosing Potter.”

Draco stiffened and dug his nails deep into his shins. “You should,” he said shakily.

“He loves you, Draco. He always has, though I suspect he didn’t even know it at first - fool that he is. I saw it in his eyes even before I ever approached him. Do you perhaps, remember the time you went out with Roland Blake? The insignificant whelp tried to attack you and Potter defended you…”

Draco’s head whipped back towards him. “How do you know about…”

“I’m your father, I know everything,” Lucius informed him dismissively. “Anyway, one of those buzzards at the Prophet took a picture of you. I… acquired it and I saw for myself, the way Potter looked when he thought you were in danger. He looked like he would snap Blake like a twig if he so much as touched you. Do you remember that?”

By the sudden trembling of Draco’s frame, it was clear that he did. “I don’t want to talk about this…” he whispered.

“Hush, Draco. There are things I need to tell you, if only for my sake. I need you to understand that it was that look on Harry Potter’s face, that determination to protect you that steered my judgement. If I had had any doubt in my mind that the boy would allow you to come to any harm, I would have rejected him in an instant. But he has protected you. He has cared for you. And despite what you may think, he has loved you.”

“Stop it,” Draco whispered. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“Draco,” Lucius chided gently. He put an arm around his son’s shoulders, allowing him to lean against him. “He returned the money.”

Draco hissed as if in pain and hid in his shoulder. “That’s not true.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you. Not now. He returned every last Knut I gave him, and he did it without a second thought. The truth is that he couldn’t stand lying to you anymore. It is perhaps my greatest failure but I will admit it - Harry Potter has held you in greater esteem than your own father.”

“He lied to me.”

“Yes, he did. But he has also loved you. He is as broken without you as you are without him. And…”

“Stop,” Draco demanded, a little frantically. “Please, Father. I… I don’t want to hear anymore.”

Lucius sighed. “Very well, son. We will speak no more of it.”

Draco nodded and settled down against his arm. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said. “I need to get away.”

Lucius frowned. “Where will you go?”

“I have a place. I just want to… be alone for a while. Take my mind of everything.”

Lucius nodded in understanding. “I won’t stop you. However, I insist you tell me where it is you plan to go.”

Draco met his eyes steadily. “If I do, will you tell Potter? Will you send him after me again?”

Lucius had half a mind to protest, but it didn’t seem like anything would sway Draco. He felt a brief stab of pity for Potter and then shook his head. “On my honour as a Malfoy, he won’t find out from me.”

“Thank you,” Draco whispered, leaning against him again. Lucius sighed at the warm weight against his own sturdy frame. He felt… content, despite everything. His son was here and safe. And he would heal with time. Draco was strong.

“I love you, Father.”

Lucius closed his eyes, willing away the stinging prickle of tears. “I love you too, my son.”

And then there was silence.

****

A month later…

The alarm rang insistently, heralding another day. Its rising shriek was pure agony. Harry slammed it with his fist and trudged out of bed, not really caring if the stupid thing was broken or not. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere.

Shaking himself awake, he dragged himself to his table to sort his mail.

Bill. Bill. Letter from Bill. Howler from Oliver.

Harry sighed. Might as well get it over with…

“POTTER! GET YOUR ARSE TO PRACTICE NOW! I DON’T CARE IF YOU OWN THE TEAM, YOU WILL SHOW UP TO PRACTICE OR MERLIN HELP ME, I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND… AND DO SOMETHING! BLOODY HELL, HOW CAN YOU…”

Harry Incendioed the shrieking thing carelessly, cutting off Oliver’s rampage. He knew bloody well that Harry wasn’t coming in to practice. As far as he had heard, Oliver was scouting for new Seekers every day. Harry didn’t care. Quidditch just wasn’t what it used to be. Nothing was.

He sorted through the rest of the pile. A note from Ginny reminding him to shower. Typical. Ron sent a letter and a fruit basket, for Merlin’s sake. Nothing from Hermione.

Nothing from Draco.

Harry slumped down in a chair and tried to will away the stab of pain in his chest. He missed him so much. It was all he could do not to break down and sob like a child.

Draco had disappeared into thin air. Harry had been relentless in his pursuit. After his owls and gone unanswered, he Flooed to the Manor every day. Lucius never stopped him. He simply explained - in an uncharacteristically gentle tone - that Draco wasn’t there and he couldn’t tell Harry where he was. Not if he wished to hear from his only son again. Harry understood, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Andromeda hadn’t been any more forthcoming. She had been positively frosty to Harry at first, holding him completely responsible for Draco’s pain. But as the days went by, Harry’s relentless visits to the Manor and his adamant refusal to give up on Draco softened her up. She wouldn’t tell him where he was, but the last time he was there she had greeted him a sympathetic, motherly embrace. “He left this behind,” she had said, gently thrusting a package in his hands. “Perhaps you should have it. I don’t think he’d mind.”

It was the novel Draco had been reading when they had gone to Hogwarts together. Harry had never actually read the thing. His only interest had been to nick it from Draco when he was deeply immersed and watching him pout. He almost laughed out when he read the title. The Taming of the Shrew. Talk about irony. The book hadn’t left his bedside since.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, wallowing in his own grief. A sharp tap to his shoulder brought him back to reality. Hermione stood in front of him, hands on her hips. “Honestly Harry,” she scolded. “Didn’t you even hear your own Floo go off? I could have been a serial killer or something!”

He managed a weak chuckle. “Yes, because I certainly have no experience with those,” he retorted.

She rolled her eyes and sat next to him. “At least you haven’t lost your sense of humour,” she smiled.

“No. Just everything else.”

Hermione bit her lip in sympathy. She took a deep breath and Harry sighed, recognizing the ominous beginning of The Lecture. “Harry,” she began in true form. “This… this can’t go on. I know you’re devastated. We all feel for you. But you have to start putting your life back together.”

“I can’t,” he replied dully.

“Yes, you can!” she snapped. “What is wrong with you? Things happen, Harry. Life goes on. And… surely you can see Draco’s point of view. It’s obvious he needs some time after you… after what…”

“After what I did to him?”

“I didn’t say that,” she protested. “I’m just saying that Draco is trying to move on. And you should too.”

“I can’t, okay?!” he snapped, glaring at her. “I don’t think you’ve noticed Hermione, but I’ve kind of fucked up here. I was happy. For four months, everything was brilliant. And then it turned on me and I lost the one person I couldn’t do without. You think I don’t know he’s gone? He’s not coming back, I get that! But I am not going to stop looking. I am not going to stop trying to find him because it’s all I’ve got. So please, as my friend I’m asking you for this. Don’t take it away from me.”

Hermione was silent as a mouse as he railed, and when he finished and slumped against the table, shaking and shuddering she rubbed his back soothingly. “Harry,” she whispered, and he thought he heard tears in her voice. “My poor Harry…”

He let her comfort him for a while. It felt good and when he was done, he felt a little better. Not much, but at least he had control. Hermione sat with him in stoic silence. “You’re not going to stop, are you?” she asked.

Harry shook his head. He couldn’t.

“Well then,” she sighed. “I…probably shouldn’t give you any more ammo for a mental breakdown but… Merlin, Ron would kill me…”

“What?” Harry demanded, sitting up. He felt more alert than he had in days. “Do you… do you know where he is?”

“Harry…”

“Hermione, please!” he sounded shrill and frantic and he couldn’t manage to keep the hysterical, pleading note out of his voice. “You know, don’t you? You do…”

“No,” Hermione said firmly. “But I know someone who does.”

****

“Ginny! Open this damn door!”

Ginny blinked at the sudden commotion before recognizing the voice. She threw the book she was reading at a wall and rushed to the door, swinging it open. Harry stood before her, panting and holding his side. “Why can’t you just get a damn Floo?” he demanded.

“Harry!” she shrieked, plastering herself against him. “You’re here! Oh Harry, I’ve been so worried! You…”

“Is Zabini around?”

Ginny immediately stilled and stepped away. Her face was guarded and she bit her lip uncertainly. “No,” she supplied. Harry’s face fell and she sighed. “He’ll be back in ten. He went out shopping.”

“Zabini went out shopping,” Harry echoed, following her in. “Exactly how long have you been living together?”

Ginny blushed. “Two weeks,” she explained with a light blush. “It happened really fast. I… didn’t want to tell you because of… well, you know.”

“It’s okay,” he grinned. “Get a Floo and I’ll burst in unannounced when you’re snogging on the couch. You know, return the favour and all.”

She stared at him before bursting into giggles. “There’s my favourite prat,” she murmured, ruffling his hair fondly. Harry smiled in response. She leaned against the kitchen counter and fiddled with a coffee cup. “I think I know why you’re here.”

“I need to talk to him,” Harry said. “He might know something.”

“Harry…”

“Salazar’s silk knickers, woman! You and your damn muggle supermarkets! They didn’t have your brand of olive oil so I just got all of them. Thank your stars you’re so damn pretty or I’d…”

Zabini trailed off his rant as he barged into the kitchen and caught sight of Harry. He immediately screeched to a halt and dropped his bags, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Now Blaise,” Ginny said tentatively, stepping in between them. “Stay calm, okay? Harry just…”

Blaise wasn’t interested. He lifted her up effortlessly and deposited her safely on the side, before taking two strides towards Harry and slamming his fist in his jaw. Harry’s world exploded in pain and he collapsed to the floor, only vaguely aware of Ginny’s outraged shriek.

“Blaise!” she screeched, hitting his chest. “You stupid, brainless lug! He’s been through enough without all that!”

“It’s okay,” Harry muttered, getting up. Merlin, it hurt. “I deserved that.”

“What you deserve is a Crucio in the bollocks,” Blaise snapped at him. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”

Ginny went vermilion. “First of all, it’s our house. And secondly, he’s my friend and he’s welcome here!”

“Fine!” Blaise snapped. “Then I’ll leave!”

“Zabini, wait!” Harry managed, as he watched him storm off. Blaise halted and turned around. The easy, cheerful man Harry had come to know had been replaced by something fearsome and protective. He glared at Harry, anger radiating from his lean, tall frame. “I’m not letting you near him again,” he declared. “I told you to be careful! I warned you! You have no idea what it did to him. That’s my best friend, Potter! And you nearly shattered him.”

“I know,” Harry murmured, feeling tears prick his eyes again.

“It’s been hell, I hope you know,” Zabini carried on. “He was heart-broken. And then he found out that I knew and he wouldn’t talk to me either! Me! We’ve been mates for decades! He’s been gone for a month….”

“And seven days,” Harry felt compelled to add.

Zabini glared at him. “I didn’t know where he was until last week if that’s what you’re thinking. He sent me an owl out of the blue. Said he missed me. And that he didn’t want to see me yet but he wanted to catch up anyway. So if you think I’m going to tell you where he is and have him disappear again, you better…”

“Is he okay?” Harry asked softly. Zabini halted his tirade for a second. His eyes reflected surprise and then he sighed. “Mostly,” he offered. “He’s getting there.”

“Does he ask about me?” He felt Ginny’s soothing hand on his shoulder.

“No!” Zabini snapped. “Well… not always. He’s mentioned you.”

“Does he still…”

“I’m not telling you anything, Potter. He doesn’t need you. That’s all you need to know.”

Ginny snorted and he scowled at her. She glared back defiantly. Blaise shook his head and turned back to Harry. “I like you, Potter. Nobody wanted the two of you to work out more than me. But I’m not going to help you wreck him again.”

Harry nodded. “I understand,” he replied, feeling hollow inside. “Thanks for your time.”

“Harry, where are you going?” Ginny demanded.

“To the Manor,” he replied with a shrug.

“Why?” Ginny demanded.

“Lucius won’t help you either,” Zabini pointed out.

“I don’t care,” Harry shrugged. “I won’t stop looking. You can’t take that away from me,” he added looking at Zabini.

The man gaped at him. Then as if realizing what he was doing, he shook his head and sneered. “You’ll have to stop someday,” he said. “You can’t hang on forever, Potter.”

“Watch me.” He wasn’t trying to pick a fight. He was just so tired of being turned down. But he wasn’t going to give up. He’d chased Draco for as long as he could remember. He’d do it for the rest of his life. He’d do it all over in a heartbeat…

“Potter…”

Harry turned back. Zabini was regarding him with cool, speculative eyes. Harry wanted to tell him to fuck off. But this wasn’t Blaise’s fault. And it didn’t really matter. The Italian continued to stare at him, like a miner searching for diamonds in the rocks. He groaned and ran his hands through his curly hair. “Merlin, he is going to hate me forever…”

Harry’s heart surged. “Are you…”

“Look, you can’t just walk over to him and beg his forgiveness, okay? He’s a Slytherin. He’ll want more than promises and pretty words. So if you’re going to go after him, give him something to prove that he means more to you than anything else.”

“Zabini, I…”

“That’s Phase One, Potter. There’s a Phase Two and Three. We’ve done this before, remember?”

Harry did and he smiled. Zabini ignored him, continuing his scheming and plotting, pacing across the kitchen floor.

“Phase Two, take him by surprise. That works well for you apparently, so we’ll stick to the classics.”

Harry nodded. “What’s Phase Three?”

Zabini looked at him seriously. “You absolutely never and I mean never heard any of this from me.”

Ginny laughed and Harry grinned. “You have my word,” he declared. “So… will you… can you tell me where he is?”

Zabini smirked. “The same place you would go if you were miserable as hell and just wanted to be surrounded by happy memories for a while.”

Harry stared at him. Of course. It was so fucking simple.

“I’m an idiot,” he declared.

“Very true,” Zabini agreed. “Now get going, Potter. And please, do it right this time?”

“I will,” Harry promised. On an impulse, he marched over and grabbed the Slytherin in a hug. Zabini gawked and flailed and Ginny burst into laughter. “Thank you,” Harry murmured. “Thank you so much.”

“I’ll consider myself thanked for life if you promise not to do that again,” Zabini snapped, pushing him off. “Start working on Phase One. Remember, words are not enough. You need to prove that…”

“I already have it figured out,” Harry replied. He did, really.

“What?” Zabini gaped. “What are you going to…”

“Good luck in the Finals, Zabini,” Harry shouted as he headed out the door. “I’m rooting for you.”

“What?” Zabini called after him. “You play for the Canons, you moron!”

But Harry was already racing back to his apartment. He felt lighter and better than he had in days. Now it was only a matter of chasing Draco down again. And Harry would.

In a heartbeat.

****

“So, have we learnt what happens when you mix Monkshood extract with powdered lacewing?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The inherent properties of the elements will react, rendering the potion explosive,” Jack intoned sullenly. He would know, of course. He was currently sporting several globs of said potion in his robes and hair.

“Ten points to Gryffindor,” Draco chuckled. “Now, let’s try it again.”

“I’m bored!” Jack pouted. “Can’t we go flying, Draco?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “No, you impertinent little brat, we cannot go flying. When I’m tutoring you I am your teacher, not your friend.”

“But you are my friend,” Jack grinned slyly. “And you know you want to go flying too…”

“What I want is for you to pass Potions so I can finish my research paper in peace,” Draco drawled. “You will prepare the ingredients at the very least. If and only if you do it properly, you can go.”

Jack pouted. “You let Billy Johnson go flying…”

“Billy Johnson didn’t decimate half the classroom with his concoction,” Draco drawled, grading some papers Slughorn had ‘forgotten’. “Keep slicing.”

Jack worked in silence for all of thirty seconds before perking up again. “Slughorn’s retiring next year,” he chirped. Draco sighed. He was never going to get his paper done, it was time to accept it and move on.

“I’m aware,” he replied. “Cut diagonally, and keep the slices as thin as possible.”

“Will you be our new Potions Master?” Jack demanded.

“I… don’t know,” Draco replied. McGonagall had practically offered him the post, but he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. That hadn’t worked out well for him in the past.

“My mother says you shouldn’t be allowed here,” Jack pointed out. Draco stiffened. “Oh?” he asked, trying to sound neutral.

“I told her she’s wrong,” Jack carried on. “And that she shouldn’t judge people without knowing them.” He sounded incredibly proud of having told his mother off. Typical reckless Gryffindor.

“Thank you, Jack,” Draco smirked. “However if you fail your Remedial Potions class, I will most certainly be kicked out. So keep at it, okay?”

He left the little boy to his potions and stepped out of the classroom. Jack would be fine slicing ingredients. Even he couldn’t mess that up. Satisfied, Draco walked out of the dungeons and into the hallway.

He wasn’t entirely sure what had made him come back to Hogwarts, but it had been good for him. There was still gossip and idle chatter about his… situation, but they were children and they didn’t mean any harm. Plus, he could always deduct house points. McGonagall had been extremely helpful and he had discovered a new respect for the Headmistress who had accepted him so readily. It was a happy life, a peaceful one - and he enjoyed it. If it wasn’t for the nights when he woke up with an inexplicable ache inside him, longing for the times when he had been here with… but that was in the past. He had moved on. He had.

Or he would, at least.

He grabbed a piece of toast in the Great Hall and waved off Horace’s admonishments to “sit down for once and eat an actual breakfast.” Draco could survive on toast and the despair of Hufflepuffs just fine. He did like to read about the outside world every now and then, though. So he nicked The Prophet from the Heads’ Table and slinked off. He didn’t read it very often, just sometimes. And not to check up if there was anything about Harry in the papers, thank you very much. Of course, it had been gratifying to know that Rita Skeeter had been fired last week for biased journalism and irresponsible slander without supporting evidence.

Thank you, Father.

He skimmed the paper and nearly choked on his toast. The headlines blazed at him from the page.


Canons Seeker Quits Team, Fans Devastated

In a startling turn of events, the Chudley Canons have announced that their star player and team Seeker - Harry James Potter - has resigned and will not be participating in the Season Finale. The announcement, made yesterday - barely a week before the World Cup - has left the country reeling. The Canons have had a sterling season so far, their best in years according to varied sources. Mr Potter who has been playing professional Quidditch for over four years cited personal reasons for leaving the team. “It was a great ride and I enjoyed it,” he said. “It’s just not where I’m supposed to be anymore.” Mr Potter declined to comment on the whereabouts of his fiancé, Draco Malfoy. Fans across the country have expressed shock and outrage at the decision, but faith in the Canons remains strong. “Heidi Green will prove to be a brilliant Seeker,” said team captain Oliver Wood. “And our new chaser…”


Draco stopped reading and flung the paper away as if it had burned. His head was reeling and he leaned against a pillar to catch his breath. Harry had quit the team. He had resigned and given up his shot at the Cup. Everything he had ever wanted and he’d just given it away. It was… perplexing, he decided. And certainly none of his business anymore.

But why?

And where was he now?

He didn’t even realize that he was walking towards the Quidditch Pitch. He was so caught up in his rambling thoughts, that he didn’t pay any attention to the random shouts and laughter on the Pitch. Until a familiar voice had him screeching to a halt.

“So when you make a turn, bend your knees just a bit. Not too much. You’ll swerve. But if you don’t, you’ll drag and…”

Draco froze in shock, standing stock still and taking in the sight of his fiancé – ex fiancé –coaching a horde of eager Slytherins. One of them made a comment and Harry threw his head back and laughed. He pretended to whack the child with his broom and turned around. His eyes met Draco’s and for a split second, the world seemed to collapse as Harry looked at him. It was intense and brutal to his frayed senses and Draco was simply appalled by the realization that he had missed him so damn much.

Harry swallowed and took a step towards him. Draco couldn’t handle it. He turned and bolted.

****

He was aware of frantic footsteps thudding after him. It didn’t surprise him at all that Harry was giving chase. He had pursued Draco relentlessly for four months, why would the bastard stop now? Except Draco had no intention of being caught. Not this time.

He practically flew down to the dungeons, weaving his way through random students and teachers, knocking over anything in his way. Harry refused to give up. He just followed Draco’s trail of chaos, re-trampling people and crashing onwards.

Draco snarled in frustration. That’s it. He was done. This was the last fucking straw!

He took a sharp right into a classroom and hid behind a door, waiting for Harry to follow. Sure enough, the idiot barged in looking around for him wildly. Draco stepped out from behind the door and picked up the biggest, heaviest tome he could find. Potter registered movement and turned. His eyes widened and he ducked, just in time to avoid a face full of Chapter 34.

“Stop chasing me!” Draco snarled, picking up another book. He threw that as well and Potter took cover behind a desk.

“Come out and fight like a man, Potter!” Draco shouted.

“Like a man?” Potter retorted, still cowering. “You’re the one throwing books around like some bitchy teenager!”

Draco would have happily strangled him. “You have some nerve, Potter! You hunted me down again! You dare to show your face here and now you’re insulting me!”

“You’re trying to behead me! I think we’re even.”

Draco nearly exploded. “How dare you say that? We will never be even! Not after what you did!”

“I know! I know! I’ll spend my whole life making it up to you if you just stop trying to end it!”

“No!” Draco bellowed, throwing book after book after book, and not particularly caring if it hit or not. “I hate you! I left you! And I don’t! Want! You! Here!” Each word was punctuated by a new book being hurled at Potter’s stupid head. A sharp one scraped his arm and he hissed but made no move to retaliate.

Draco didn’t care. He threw everything he could find at Potter - books, manuscripts, side tables and most impressively, a suit of armour - but the man just took it. At some point, Draco sank to the floor in exhaustion and Potter cautiously poked his head out from the desk.

“Is it safe to come out now?” he asked tentatively, crawling over the rubble.

“Get lost, Potter,” Draco mumbled without any real heat. The pain was setting in again, and Potter only brought back hurt and resentment. There was no room for anger.

“Draco,” Harry whispered, crouching next to him. He looked like he was about one step from tears. “Oh Draco, I missed you…”

“Shut up,” Draco snapped, hedging away. “And stay away from me.”

Potter met him halfway. He sat down next to him, keeping a respectful distance. “I tried to find you,” he murmured.

“I tried to make sure you couldn’t,” Draco replied.

“Why?” Harry asked, sounding genuinely hurt. “I get you’re angry and upset, I do. But damn it Draco, I was… I didn’t even know if you were dead or alive for a while. It killed me not knowing you were okay.”

Draco didn’t acknowledge that admission. “You quit the team,” he said instead.

“It wasn’t important anymore,” Harry shrugged. “It never was, I think.”

“What about the Cup?”

“I bet on Puddlemere United this year,” Harry smiled. “They’ve got a pretty good Seeker.”

Draco smirked before remembering who this was. He scowled at Potter. “Stop making me laugh. I’m angry with you,”

“Sorry,” Harry said. “For everything, I mean. Not…”

“I know what you mean,” Draco shrugged. “Do you expect me to come running back in your arms?”

Harry sighed. “No. Although that would be fucking brilliant. I miss holding you.”

Draco mulled on that in silence for a while. Harry didn’t interrupt him. “You should have told me,” he said finally. “That it was just a contract. It wouldn’t have hurt so much then.”

“It wasn’t,” Harry cried. “Well, it was at first. But… I wasn’t lying to you, Draco. I loved you more than anything. I still do.”

Draco stared at him, eyes bright and throat clenched. “I…” he shuddered and looked away. “I can’t say it back.”

“You don’t have to,” Harry soothed, reaching out and touching his shoulder. He flinched but didn’t move away. “I just wanted you to know that.”

“Is that why you chased me down like a maniac?” Draco muttered. “Because you love me?”

“I chased you down because you ran,” Harry smirked. “You always run.”

“You always follow.”

“I always will,” Harry shrugged.

“Why?”

“Because if I keep chasing you, I’ll catch you one day,” he replied. “And I won’t be stupid enough to let you go again.”

Draco clenched his fists and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I can’t do it, Harry,” he whispered. “Not right now.”

“Then don’t,” Harry insisted. “Don’t do anything. Let me do it. Let me get to know you again. As friends, if you want. No more courting or dates or anything until you’re ready. If you’re ever ready. Just… don’t run from me again. I’ll never hurt you again, I promise. But I can’t live through something like this again, Draco. I won’t lose you, no matter how long it takes to earn your forgiveness.”

“What if it’s never?” Draco asked tonelessly.

“Then it’s never,” Harry shrugged. “That’s my problem. Not yours.”

“Oh.” He didn’t quite know what to say after that. It felt good, having that burden lifted from his shoulders. But that was what Harry always did. He took care of him. He looked after him. He… loved him.

“When will I see you again?” he asked Harry.

The Gryffindor grinned sheepishly. “Every day, I imagine.”

“What?”

“I… okay, don’t be mad. And please don’t throw anything at me, I wasn’t stalking you or anything, I swear. I mean, I hadn’t really thought about it until I knew you were here but I always wanted to and then it just made sense and…”

“Potter, what did you do?” Draco growled.

Harry mumbled something that Draco couldn’t catch. “I’m sorry, what?”

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I said I’m the new Quidditch Coach for Hogwarts. Or I will be soon. Hooch is retiring in a month so I’m assisting her right now. But soon I’ll be taking over the…”

“You what?” Draco blurted. “You’re… teaching? Here?”

Harry nodded.

Draco gaped at him. “But… professional Quidditch and… teams would be falling over themselves to have you! You love Quidditch. You wanted to win the Cup! You’re not… are you seriously giving all that up?”

“It’s time,” Harry replied. “I had my fun and it was brilliant. But, I just have more important stuff to focus on than some shiny trophy. Like my… boyfriend?” He sounded timid and awkward and Draco felt a surge of tenderness in his chest.

“You don’t have to do that for me,” he said, putting a hand on Harry’s. “It’s what you do and you love it.”

“No, I love you. And this isn’t about you, not entirely. It’s just that… it was great, playing with the Cannons. But honestly, the most fun I ever had was with these kids, watching them fly and loving it. Showing them how to catch the Snitch, watching Gryffindor and Slytherin fight it out. And if Billy Johnson makes it into the Cannons one day and I’m the one who got him there, I think I can live with that.”

Draco chuckled. “So you’re sure about this?” he asked. “Giving it all up and staying here?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” Harry replied. “Except you, probably,” he added with a nudge to Draco’s shoulder.

Draco flushed and stared at the book in his hands, fiddling with it. “I really should throw this that you,” he muttered grudgingly. He sighed and chucked it away. “Like that’s ever helped before.” Harry laughed and Draco smirked, stopping to give him a quizzical look. “You’re never really going to bugger off, are you Harry?”

Harry grinned and squeezed his hand. “Never,” he promised.

****

Epilogue: Four Years Later…


“Damn it!” Draco snarled, throwing cushions around in his panic. The object of his immediate attention still eluded him and he could have screamed. Except that would have been a waste of time and he didn’t have any to spare!

“Where is it?” he snarled, descending on the bookshelf next. Off with Moste Potente Potions. To hell with Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean Guide: The Ultimate Collection. And the Taming of the Shrew could… well, maybe not that one. He was rather fond of it.

“Trouble, love?” Harry asked, poking his head in the door.

“My wedding ring!” Draco bit out, still agitated beyond belief. “I can’t find it anywhere!”

“Calm down,” Harry chided gently.

“Do not tell me to calm down, Potter!” Draco snapped. “If you want to make yourself useful, help me look! It has to be here somewhere! I…”

“Oh, do shut up,” Harry muttered, pulling him back and slipping his mouth over Draco’s. It was a tried and tested method and it had never failed him yet. Sure enough, Draco sighed and stopped decimating their living room. “Now,” Harry said, breaking away from him. “Where did you see it last?”

“See what?” Draco blinked, still somewhat dazed. “Oh, the ring. On my finger obviously! You know I never take it off.”

“Considering it took me three years to put it on, I should hope so,” Harry grumbled. “Come on, I’ll help you look.”

Twenty minutes later, Draco was close to hysterics and the ring was nowhere to be found. And they were really late for the wedding. Harry lost patience and cast an Accio, wondering why he hadn’t thought about it in the first place. A sliver of gold whizzed past him and ever the Seeker, he snatched it up. At least, working with kids kept him sharp as a tack.

“Oh thank Merlin,” Draco gasped in relief, slipping it on. “Where was it? And why is it…”

Harry grinned, mischief glinting in his eyes. “In the lube jar,” he chuckled. His husband flushed in abject mortification and attempted to bury himself in the couch cushions. Harry hauled him up, indulging himself with a snog in the process.

“None of that,” he admonished. “We’re really late. And I don’t fancy facing an angry bride.”

“Another Slytherin-Gryffindor wedding,” Draco smirked. “We’ve started a dangerous precedent.” He wrapped his arms around Harry and kissed along his jawline, placing little licks and nips along the way.

“Come on,” Harry groaned, dredging up the remains of his self-control. “We’re really going to be late.”

“Five more minutes,” Draco insisted, continuing his tantalising ministrations.

“Suit yourself,” Harry replied, hissing as Draco nipped at his ear. “You’re the one who has to walk her down the aisle.”

Draco’s eyes widened in unmistakable fear for his life. “Fuck!” he bellowed, bolting for the Floo. Harry snickered and sauntered off leisurely behind him.

****

They bolted in to the chapel with seconds to spare, immediately finding themselves face to face with a furious redhead. Harry gulped and Draco took a step back.

“Where were you?” Ginny hissed, looking absolutely livid. Her pale gown accentuated her fiery hair, not to mention the deadly flash of her eyes. “Blaise is drowning himself at the bar and I warn you I am not dragging his semi-conscious arse through the Floo again! I happen to be a very small woman!”

“You look beautiful,” Draco said, kissing her cheek in an attempt to placate her. “Blaise is one lucky bastard.”

“Yeah well, tell him if he doesn’t hurry up and propose that’s going to change,” Ginny groused. “Four years, goddamn it! What’s he waiting for? Merlin’s Second Coming?”

“He’s working on it,” Harry assured her.

“He better be!” she snapped. “For the love of Morgana, everyone is married except me! Which reminds me - Draco, the bride is looking for you. Hurry up and get this party started so I can catch that bloody bouquet!”

They watched her stomp off with stifled grins. “So much for nobody’s going to take me down without a fight,” Harry quipped.

“I hope she doesn’t kill him before he picks out the ring,” Draco smirked. He straightened out his robes and grinned at Harry. “See you in a bit?”

“I’ll go check on the groom,” Harry nodded. “Apparently Blaise is doing a bang up job as Best Man. They could probably use my stand in services.”

“I’ll see you at the altar,” Draco nodded.

“Just like old times,” Harry winked. Draco watched him leave with a fond smile, and then took off in search of the bride. He found her having a mini breakdown in her dressing room.

“There you are!” she declared, in that exasperated lilt he loved so much. “Honestly Dragon, its past three!”

“I’m here now, Aunt Andromeda,” Draco smiled reassuringly. “Everything is under control.”

“Oh I hope so,” she fretted, patting down her beautiful beige robes. Her hair was done up in an elegant bun, highlighting her regal features. She looked sophisticated and noble and just beautiful. Draco’s heart clenched. If he tried really hard, he could see his mother in her.

“What is it?” Andromeda asked.

“You just… you look so much like…” he looked away embarrassed.

Andromeda looked stricken. “Oh Dragon,” she cried, pulling him closer. Draco melted into her warm, feminine embrace. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you. Please don’t think ill of me. I could never even dream of taking your mother’s place. She was my baby sister and I loved her dearly. It’s just…”

“Hush,” Draco whispered, cupping her face in his larger hands. “It’s not that at all. I’m just so thankful to you for being here with us. It’s like a part of her is still here. I miss her terribly, but you’re here and so is Father. And you will always have my best wishes. You make him so happy and I want that for you.”

“I love you, Dragon,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. “You’re the son I never had. And I am so proud of the man you’ve become.”

“You helped,” Draco smiled. He gave her a quick peck before offering his arm. “Shall we? Father is probably going spare.”

She laughed. “You left Harry in charge, I hope? Last I heard, Lucius was hollering for him up and down the halls.”

“He’ll survive,” Draco grinned. “Ready?”

“Terrified,” Andromeda confirmed, with a breathy whisper.

“Don’t be. It’s easy,” Draco replied. “Now come on. Let’s get you married.”

****

“They look happy, don’t they?” Draco smiled, resting against Harry’s chest as they twirled on the dance floor. He felt his husband’s head lift from his chin to get a good look at the happy couple.

“Andromeda looks happy,” he announced. “Lucius looks…well, he’s not dead, I suppose.”

“That’s how he always looks,” Draco retorted. “Trust me he’s doing an Irish jig on the inside.”

Harry snorted. “There’s an image that will stay with me,” he snickered. Draco swatted his arm out of habit and Harry responded with a gentle squeeze. Draco smiled and tilted his head up, angling for a kiss. Harry was never one to refuse such a pretty offer. He bent his head to trace Draco’s lips with his. This …was perfect.

“I am through with you, Blaise Zabini! Through! To think I gave up smoking for you!”

Harry sighed and Draco thunked against his chest before reluctantly disentangling himself. “Let’s go,” he said, tugging Harry’s hand. “I don’t think she believes it now, but she’ll want all of Blaise’s body parts intact in the morning.”

The shouting got louder as they made their way to the gardens. Ginny was a tiny inferno, glaring down at her boyfriend. Said boyfriend was currently sprawled on his back, wearing a flower arrangement. “Come on, Red, “he whined. “Help a fellow up.”

“Help yourself up!” she hissed lividly. “I am going home. And if you darken my doorway again I’ll stick that precious broomstick of yours right up your…”

Harry cleared his throat meaningfully. “What?” Ginny snapped.

“Just thought we’d check in, see if everything’s okay,” Draco ventured.

Ginny emitted a rather hysterical laugh. “Actually Draco, no. Everything is not okay. I am tired, my boyfriend has commitment issues and I just want a damn cigarette! Is that too much to ask? One c-cigarette?”

Draco sighed and opened his arms, allowing the sniffling girl to curl up against him. He pet her hair gently, as Harry helped Blaise up. “What’s she so upset about?” Blaise demanded, staring at Ginny.

“Mate, it’s time to go home,” Harry advised. “I’ll take you back to your old flat, yeah?”

“I live with Ginny,” Blaise informed him.

“You do not!” she sniffed, hiding in Draco’s shoulder.

Blaise stared at her for a second and brushed his robes off. He looked steadier than before. Apparently, Ginny’s breakdown had touched a rather sober chord inside him. “Give her to me,” he ordered Draco.

“Blaise, I really don’t think…”

“Draco. Hand her over. Now.”

Reluctantly, the blond let her go to Blaise. Ginny bawled against his chest and the Italian wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair and murmuring gently in her ear. “My firefly,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“I hate you,” she sobbed. “You’re a complete b-bastard. And you always get the wrong olive oil and I just hate you!”

“Shh,” Blaise chided gently. “I’m sorry, cara. I’ve been an arse, I know. Please forgive me.”

Ginny sniffed and nodded reluctantly. “Take me home,” she ordered.

“In a minute,” Blaise replied. “There’s something I want to give you first.”

“I swear if it’s a hickey I’m going to…”

He chuckled and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “It’s a little more than that,” he grinned, fumbling around in his robes. “Stupid thing is stuck,” he grunted, tugging harder. Ginny rolled her eyes, and wiped away a smudge of mascara from her nose. Blaise finally excavated whatever it was he was looking for and held it up in triumph. “Got it,” he announced, flipping the box open.

Ginny’s jaw dropped. Harry exchanged a delighted grin with Draco.

“It was my grandmother’s,” Blaise explained, picking the ornate ring up delicately. “The truth is that I wanted to give it to you the second I laid eyes on you. But this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I never knew true happiness until I met you Ginny, and every second without you feels like a waste of time. It’s a scary thing to love someone so much. And it scared me for a long time. I kept telling myself it wasn’t the right time or the right place. But every moment with you is right and I don’t want to lose that. Ever. I know I’m not half the man you deserve but I love you with all my heart, Firefly and I’m hoping that will be enough. And if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you. So I guess what I’m saying is… Ginny, will you marry me?”

There was a second of earth crushing silence around them. And then Ginny sobbed and barrelled straight into Blaise’s open arms. He stumbled and righted himself as she plastered herself against him. “This is a yes, right?” he asked his friends doubtfully.

“Absolutely” Harry smirked. “Exactly the way Draco reacted when I proposed.”

“Potter!” Draco snapped, shoving him playfully. “I didn’t cry that much. For Merlin’s sake, she’s wailing!”

“Shut it Draco,” Ginny mumbled, still wrapped up in her fiancé. She looked up at Blaise and pressed a kiss to his chin. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Blaise replied. “Now about that hickey…”

Ginny laughed. “I saw a coat closet in the hall. Race you there?”

“No scandalising the elderly!” Draco called after them. “We just got them married, we don’t need twin heart attacks!”

Harry laughed and pulled him against him. “Let them go,” he grinned. “Courting is half the fun of it.”

“Oh?” Draco smirked. “And what’s the other half?”

Harry traced Draco’s jaw with his fingers. “Everything I’ve ever wanted,” he replied quietly.

Draco smiled and pulled him into a kiss. “Ditch the party and shag at home?” he asked, when Harry finally let him pull away.

“Race you there,” Harry smirked.

He grinned as his husband sprinted off in search of the nearest Floo. And then he did what he had always done best. He chased after Draco, and caught him.

END



CLICK HERE -- PLEASE RETURN TO LJ AND LEAVE A COMMENT, THANK YOU