bottom_draco_comm (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bottom_draco_comm) wrote2012-08-17 07:49 pm
bottom_draco_comm) wrote2012-08-17 07:49 pm
FEST FIC: Cake and Chocolate - Harry/Draco (NC-17)
Title: Cake and Chocolate
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fantasyfruitbat
Prompt: #46, Snow White
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione, Narcissa/???
Summary: Draco has everything he thinks he wants. An attempted murder, however, brings him far more than he had ever expected.
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me; I’m just having fun playing with the characters.
Beta: Anna, who’s not on LJ.
Warning(s): Bit of smut at the end; I don’t think there’s anything squicky.
Word Count: ~8600
Author's Notes: Set AU post-War (no HBP or DH). I really really enjoyed writing this; I hope you like what I’ve done with it.
Skin as white as snow, hair as black as ebony, lips as red as blood.
Only the first of these could be said to be true of Draco. The third had applied on one occasion when he had let Pansy use her make-up on him but he never admitted to that.
Suffice it to say, Draco Malfoy was gorgeous. He was also very rich, or at least, he would be once he reached his twenty-first birthday and took control of his trust funds and the Malfoy fortune. Until then, he had to survive on his allowance, a trifling amount that would have fed several families but barely covered Draco's shopping bills.
How those curmudgeonly trustees expected him to adequately clothe himself on the pittance he received, Draco didn't know. Then again, they all dressed as their great great great grandfathers had dressed, so they clearly had no idea of the importance of good clothes.
Draco described himself as a semi-orphan, since his beloved father had died a couple of years before, during the War. Lucius Malfoy may have been, well, rather a rogue but he had still been Draco's father and Draco missed him, even if he didn't think about him very often.
The forest was thick and dark and seemed to be closing in as Draco ran through the undergrowth. Brambles were tearing at his legs, having quickly got through the expensive cloth of his trousers. There were noises all around him; strange noises that suggested large Malfoy-eating monsters hiding in the undergrowth. Draco had no idea what they might be but he didn't fancy hanging around to find out.
Eventually, the brambles gave way to thin whipping branches that smacked him in the face and slowed his progress considerably. Still, at least the thorns had stopped, which was a relief, since large patches of his skin were bare now and he was covered with scratches.
It must have been raining recently, he thought vaguely, splashing through another puddle that drenched his feet and threw mud up his legs. Grimy water was trickling down the inside of his thighs and it felt like small insects were crawling over him but he didn't have time to stop and find out.
Suddenly, he became aware that the noises around him had ceased. He slowed to a walk and then halted, listening hard.
The silence was complete, a great deadening fog that had settled over the forest. There was a tension in the air, however, and Draco felt that he was not alone. There seemed to be a presence coming nearer but the only sounds were his ragged gasps for breath and the blood pumping in his ears.
The presence was almost on top of him now and he looked around wildly.
There was nothing there, nothing but the trees and the bushes, no sound but himself.
Draco's whole being tingled with the sense of danger; he felt eyes watching him from all directions and finally he could stand it no longer and fled.
Whatever it was that was stalking him followed swiftly, silent and menacing. Draco tripped several times, hauling himself up each time and staggering on, desperate to escape from his pursuer.
He couldn't make out where he was going or what lay ahead but that didn't matter. All he could think was, "Run, run, run."
Then, the ground disappeared from under his feet, giving way with a squelch and plunging him up to his chest in a bog. He pulled himself forward, seeing the ground appearing again not far away and crawled out, sobbing for air, his energy spent. The presence still hung around him and, not realising that, had it wanted to attack him, it could have done so many times before now, he crawled forward, the rough ground hurting his hands and eventually forcing him to rise to his feet.
Sunlight coming through the trees ahead gave him one last burst of strength and he emerged from the forest into a clearing. A cottage sat in the middle, a well-tended vegetable patch to one side and roses covering much of the walls.
Whatever was chasing him seemed reluctant to leave the trees and Draco tottered weakly to the door, sinking to the ground to lean against the wall and flapping a limp hand against the wood.
"Hello?" he called, once he had got some of his breath back. "Anyone?"
Footsteps sounded and the door opened. Draco didn't have the energy to lift his head but a familiar gasp made his heart pound.
Surely, it couldn't be...
"Malfoy! What the hell happened to you? What are you doing here?"
It was. It was Potter.
Draco managed to look up at him. Potter had always liked rescuing people so the situation was hopeful, even though they hadn't got on very well in the past and Draco currently looked like he'd... well, been mud wrestling with a manticore.
"Potter," he croaked. "Help me. He tried to kill me and then, in the forest..." Draco looked fearfully at the trees, in case the monster was waiting for him.
There was a short pause and then Potter bent down and pulled Draco gently to his feet.
"Come inside and we'll get you cleaned up," he said. "No one's going to kill you here."
Heedless of the mud and bits of foliage that decorated Draco, Harry Potter put an arm around his waist and half-led, half-carried Draco into the cottage. The door shut behind them and Draco finally felt safe.
By the time he was clean, clothed, healed and respectable again, Draco was a boiling mass of sexual frustration. The hot water of the bath was a wonderful balm for his aching muscles but made the thorn scratches and the bruises he hadn't been aware of tingle and smart.
Potter then refused to allow him to get dressed until he had healed all of Draco's wounds, slight as some of them were, and being in close proximity to his host, while dressed only in a towel, was difficult, to say the least. Potter had gone into compassionate mode, either not remembering or not caring who Draco was. Draco hoped it was the latter but he wasn't sure.
Under the annoyingly complete cover of his clothes, Potter was nicely muscled, more so than Draco, and there was a hint of dark stubble on his face that made Draco's body itch. Not even Pansy knew that Draco's secret kink was a manly chin, covered with stubble, scratching him lightly as it moved over his most sensitive places. He pressed his thighs together and tensed, trying to subdue the urge to leap on Potter and rip his clothes off. Potter promptly apologised for hurting him and his subsequent spells were even gentler than before.
Eventually, Draco's skin was once more pristine and flawless and Potter fetched some clothes for him. They were too big for him and the soft wool sweater hugged him like a friendly bear. As he finished dressing and prepared to leave the bedroom, he wondered if Potter's hugs were like that. Draco thought they were; he imagined Potter would wrap his arms around Draco like a giant cocoon and Draco would be surrounded by Potter's scent and his warmth and...
Draco stopped his thoughts abruptly and tried to will his erection away. He couldn't face Potter in this state and hope to be taken seriously as the victim of an attempted murder. The thought of the events that had brought him to Potter's cottage speedily squashed his arousal and he walked slowly into the sitting room, where Potter was just bringing in two mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of biscuits.
"It all started," Draco said, when he was curled up on the sofa, hot chocolate in one hand and biscuit in the other, "when my mother decided she was going to marry again. You see, my stepfather is not only a family friend, he is also a lecherous old man with wandering hands."
"He came on to you?"
"Yes. He'd been drooling over me for some time and a couple of days ago he started actually pawing at me. Of course, I told him in no uncertain terms where to go. I also said that I'd be telling Mother just what sort of a creature she'd married. Mother can be an absolute harpy sometimes so I knew that I had rattled him."
He paused, taking a sip of chocolate, not looking forward to telling the next part.
"This morning, one of the house elves, Tippy, came and told me that my stepfather wanted to see me and had instructed the elf to take me to his laboratory, rather than allowing me to make my own way there. I thought that was a bit weird but he's always doing strange things with the wards so I assumed it was because of that.
"The next thing I knew, we were in a place I had never seen before, on the edge of a dark forest and Tippy was looking at me with tears running down his face. He said he was horrified at what he had to do but that my stepfather was legally and magically his master and so he had to obey him. Then, he held out a vial of something and said that if I didn't drink it myself he would have to force me to."
Draco stopped his narrative, breathing deeply to calm himself. Potter moved closer on the sofa and put a comforting hand on his arm. Draco smiled at him rather shakily.
"Tippy said it was a sleeping death potion - the drinker falls into an everlasting sleep with no dreams and no waking. I don't know why it wasn't an ordinary poison but I suppose the risk of being caught would be greater with that. If I was actually dead, I might be able to come back as a ghost and spill the beans.
"House elf magic is not pleasant when it's used on a human and I really didn't want to force Tippy into having to force me. I tried to persuade him that he didn't have to give the potion to me. He said he wanted to help but his loyalty was bound to his master and he couldn't disobey. Eventually, he said that, perhaps, if I ran away, it would be all right. His instructions had been to get rid of me and, although my stepfather gave him the potion, he hadn't specifically instructed Tippy to use it. A mere quibble over words but, in this case, a useful one.
"I must have left my wand at home, or maybe Tippy had been told to get it away from me, and my only thought was to get away before he changed his mind and decided he had to obey his master. I ran into the forest. I thought it wasn't too big, at first, but the trees never seemed to end and then I became aware of something following me."
Draco shivered, the memory of his journey through the forest almost worse than what had gone before.
"I ran and ran until I arrived here."
He smiled faintly, trying to find a little humour to lighten the situation.
"And that creature chased me into a bog on the way. Still," he turned to Potter, his face pale and drawn but composed now his tale was finished, "At least it didn't actually eat me."
Potter shook his head. His hand was still on Draco's arm.
"That's an unbelievable story. I don't mean I don't believe you; I do," he added hastily. "But, for your stepfather to instruct a house elf to kill you." He swallowed and shook his head again. "It's horrible."
They sat in silence for a moment.
"I suppose I should tell you," Potter said eventually, "there aren't really any dangerous creatures in the forest." Draco raised an eyebrow. "When I moved in here, I was desperate for privacy. It was just after the War, you see, and the Press wouldn't leave me alone, so I put up very extensive wards around the place. They extend right through the forest, so that if anyone tries to approach, they think there are monsters and... things trying to attack them. They work on the person's fears, so they see or hear whatever they're afraid of, within a forest context. You're the only person who's ever made it through."
Draco stared at him for a moment and Potter flushed.
"I don't know whether that makes it better or not," Draco said at last. "You can certainly congratulate yourself on your wards; they nearly scared the life out of me."
"Sorry." There was a pause. "What are you going to do now?"
Draco shrugged and wrapped his arms around himself.
"I don't know. I really... I don't think I can go home, not just yet. I'm not quite of age, at least in terms of my trust fund and the family holdings, so there's nothing I can do about kicking my stepfather out of the house and who would believe me if I said he'd tried to kill me? The only witness to that is Tippy and he'd be got rid of immediately, if he hasn't been already. Mother is... Well, she's glad I'm grown up now; it means hardly any responsibility for her. I don't want to go home yet."
He turned to Potter.
"I don't suppose I could stay here, just for a little while?"
Potter hesitated.
"Please. I'll try not to be any trouble," Draco went on, coming very close to begging.
His eyes were very large and Potter gazed at him for a few moments before nodding.
"Of course you can stay," he said softly. "Stay as long as you want."
Draco sighed in relief, suddenly feeling warm and secure.
"Thank you." A lump was in his throat and his eyes were suspiciously wet but he was happy. "I hope we can forget how we were in school and start again. I know I'd like to and I meant it when I said I didn't want to give you any trouble."
"I don't think you'll cause any trouble I can't handle," Potter said with a smile. He held out his hand. "By the way, I'm Harry. Pleased to meet you."
Draco took his hand, a thrill shooting through him at the thought of finally being on the right side of Harry Potter.
"I'm Draco and I'm very glad to meet you."
Dear Pansy,
I hope you don't mind my using your name but, since you're not ever (I hope) going to see these letters, I doubt it will cause a problem if you do. I've decided I want to keep a record of my suddenly-very-eventful life and, since I'm not a girl and therefore can't keep a diary, I thought I would write letters to you.
You know, I think living with Potter won't be so bad. He's been awfully considerate and keeps asking me if I need anything. I think he thinks I'm still dreadfully traumatised by the whole house-elf-trying-to-kill-me thing. Well, I'm not exactly happy about it and, no matter what he says, the thought of what might be out there in the forest fills me with dread but I'm not cowering in a corner, whimpering.
Potter - I mean Harry - has become very good looking. You'd envy my being here, Pans. You'd envy me my company, at least. He has this funny lop-sided smile, which does strange things to my insides and makes me feel as if I was fifty feet from the ground and my broom had disappeared from under me. Does that sound really mushy? Oh well, I have a feeling Harry Potter's smile could make anyone mushy.
The cottage isn't too bad, either. Harry has a moving picture box, which he says is a muggle invention, and which is great fun. I wasn't too sure about it at first - you always have to be careful with muggle things - but there are some really gorgeous men inside it and now I have to keep on watching to make sure I don't miss them.
I'd better go now - Harry has just called out that the chocolate cake he was making is done. Baking seems to be one of his hobbies and it's certainly one of his skills.
Why didn't I make more of an effort with Harry years ago?
Draco
"Dear Merlin, how many of them are there?"
"Draco, you promised to be nice, remember?"
"Harry, they're looking at me."
"They're not going to hurt you. Just behave yourself and exercise some of that Malfoy charm and everything will be fine."
"Why did I let you talk me into coming here?"
"As I recall, you didn't want to stay in the house on your own. Now, come on, let me introduce you."
"We, who are about to die..."
"Behave."
Dear Pansy,
You would not believe the amount of ginger hair I have had to suffer this evening. Harry went to have dinner with his adoptive family and asked me to come along too, so I went - right into the nest of Weasels! They call it The Burrow - do weasels live in burrows?
Needless to say, The Weasel (Harry's pet weasel from school) was not pleased to see me. Surprisingly, it was Granger (now a Weasel herself) who calmed him down but she also made it clear that she did not approve of my presence there.
The eldest of the brood is very good looking but, sadly, completely straight. The second eldest (not quite so handsome but attractive in a rugged way) is not straight at all. When he sat down rather too close to me on the sofa and told me he was a dragon tamer, I nearly hexed his bits off. It turned out that wasn't actually a cheesy come-on line and he really does work with dragons. After that, we had a long conversation and I managed to wangle an invitation to go and visit him at the Reserve. Harry didn't look too pleased when I told him - I'm hoping that's because he's jealous.
The other members of the family - barring Mr and Mrs Weasley, who were both surprisingly polite - were not so pleasant. There's the one who must have been even more of a teacher's pet in school than Granger was, twin menaces that Harry had, fortunately, warned me about earlier (not to be trusted) and the little She-Weasel who used to have a crush on Harry. I don't trust her; I think she's still after him. She's not going to get him.
All in all, the evening didn't turn out as awful as I had feared but it's not an experience I want to repeat too often. At least the food was good.
Draco
"Draco, you don't have to be quite that precise. It's a cake, not a potion."
"Well, I would like to get it right. I don't really fancy flour and egg exploding all over me."
"It's not going to explode."
"I bet that's what you always thought at school, too. You always were atrocious at Potions."
"But I'm good at baking. At least, that's what you've been saying for the past week."
"Yes." Sigh. "I don't suppose you'd-"
"No. You said you wanted to make this cake yourself and that's what you're going to do. Just keep thinking about the end result."
"I am."
"Don't be melodramatic. Here, you can use the mixer now."
"It's not going to bite me, is it?"
Dear Pansy,
Weasley and Weasley-née-Granger came over today. No matter what Harry says, Weasley is a buffoon. Weasley-née-Granger is tolerable, I suppose, if rather alarming. She rants. A lot. She also has strange ideas about house elves. I think that was why she warmed to me this evening - I said I never wanted to see another house elf again and would certainly never keep any in the future (and, really, can you blame me?) and she got this delighted look and began telling me all about how slavery was abominable and all elves wanted to be free. I'm not sure where she got that idea - you can't get rid of the ones at the Manor - they just hang around and refuse to leave if they're given clothing. Still, I seem to be in Weasley-née-Granger's good books now and Harry is happy about it. Weasley is not.
Draco
"Now stir it seven and a half times clockwise."
"Why seven and a half? Why not eight?"
"Because eight would be too much and it would end up like treacle. Seven and a half helps the potion to thicken just enough; at the moment it's too thin. When it's as watery as it is now, you'd have to take a bucketful for it to have any effect."
"Tell me what it is again."
"It helps the body to absorb far more nutrients from the food you eat than it can normally. It has a similar effect on plants as well, although with plants the results are more obvious, since it stimulates rapid growth. I thought it might be useful for your garden - it's far more effective than shop-bought plant food."
"Well, it's very kind of you to teach me. How do you know this potion, though? I've never imagined you as the gardening sort."
"Pansy's mother got me to make it for her a few years ago when she was going in for flower and vegetable shows. She's got a whole cabinet full of trophies that she won because of my potion."
"I think that's called cheating, Draco."
"No, Harry, it's called being a Slytherin."
Dear Pansy,
Well, perhaps the Weasel isn't all bad, after all. He can play chess quite well, which is more than can be said for Harry. Harry was awfully pleased that we were getting on so well. I think he does like me - Harry, that is, not Weasley.
Wish me luck.
Draco
"Harry, are you sure about this?"
"I promise there are no monsters in the forest, Draco."
"What about what happened to me? Are you suggesting I imagined it?"
"Well, you weren't actually attacked, were you? You fell in the bog."
"I don't think I need to be reminded of that, Potter. Anyway, I was definitely chased. It wasn't as if I jumped into the bog on purpose."
"I did explain about the wards, Draco, so-"
"What was that? Harry, did you hear it? It was just the other side of those bushes!"
"There's nothing to be frightened of. It's probably just an animal."
"You'd better not disappear off and leave me here."
"The way you're hanging on to me, there's no chance of that."
"You don't mind."
"No, I suppose not. It's not everyday I have a gorgeous blond leaping into my arms."
"You think I'm gorgeous?"
"Er... Perhaps we should be getting back, now..."
"Draco? I'm going out now to get the groceries. Do you want anything?"
Draco emerged from the kitchen, a plate of chocolate cake in his hand. Harry laughed.
"I should get some more cake ingredients, I suppose?" he said.
Draco's eyes lit up.
"I did find something in one of your recipe books that I wanted to try," he replied eagerly. "White chocolate and raspberries."
"You can't live on cake and chocolate, you know."
Draco grinned at Harry and walked past towards the sitting room.
"Just watch me," he called.
There was the sound of the television being switched on and Harry listened for a moment before turning towards the door.
"I'm off now. See you later."
Draco mumbled something through a mouthful of cake and Harry left the house with a smile on his face.
After sitting through a particularly informative cooking program with a very attractive presenter, Draco heard a scratching at the window. He went over and saw a rather ugly looking owl sitting on the windowsill with a package tied to its leg.
Thinking it was something for Harry, he was surprised to see his own name on the label as he retrieved it from the bird. The bird glowered at him and flew off immediately it was free of its burden.
He opened the package tentatively, not sure what to expect. The wrapping fell away to reveal an expensive box of chocolates. Draco's mouth watered at the sight but he was puzzled as to the box's origins and sat staring at it for a few minutes.
The only people who knew he was here were Harry and the Weasleys. He thought it rather unlikely to have come from any of the Weasleys; the only one who might have sent it was Charlie and Draco doubted he was the sort to send chocolates to someone he wanted to impress.
He bit his lip, still staring at the box, willing it to tell him its secrets.
It couldn't have come from Harry, could it? Draco had been hoping he would make a move and, in the past few days, they had been closer than ever. There were a few occasions when he had really thought Harry was about to declare his feelings or just dispense with words and kiss him.
Perhaps Harry wasn't as bold in matters of the heart as he was in everything else, Draco thought. After all, that business with Cho Chang at school would hardly have encouraged him to be open and upfront about any romantic feelings he had. Draco didn't know of any other relationships that Harry had had since then, although he thought there had probably been a few.
Draco opened the box. Oh, it had to be from Harry. The chocolates were large and creamy-looking and Harry knew how much Draco loved chocolates.
Yes, it must be Harry's way of telling Draco he cared about him. A wide smile broke out across his face. Well, the feelings were definitely reciprocated. Draco sighed, his heart feeling full and warm.
His hand hovered over the chocolates. It really was difficult to decide which one to have first. Still, he had a whole box to himself. He would save some for Harry, of course.
He chose a chocolate and bit into it. It was rich and sweet and delicious. He closed his eyes, savouring the flavour.
Perhaps a dark one next. Dark and strong and slightly mysterious, like Harry.
Then, something fruity.
There was a light creamy one as well, which melted in his mouth like butter.
Draco was in heaven; a wonderful chocolate heaven, where he knew that Harry loved him and had given him all these incredible chocolates. He smiled dreamily. Poor, darling Harry, being too shy to give them to him in person. As soon as Harry got home, Draco would make sure that his own feelings were perfectly clear. Then, Harry would kiss him and hold him close and...
He felt awfully drowsy. Rather sick, as well. Perhaps he had eaten too many chocolates. Draco tried to look down at the box to see how many were left but the box appeared blurry and his head was heavy and it was difficult to make anything out.
Surely this wasn't a normal reaction to eating chocolates? He had never felt like this before. A faint spike of alarm rose through him and he felt afraid.
"Harry," he whispered and was shocked at how indistinct his voice sounded.
Draco tried to fight the lethargy and struggled to his feet, the chocolates falling to the floor. A moment later, Draco followed them, his legs too weak to support him.
It wasn't long before the fight became too much and he finally succumbed to darkness.
It was on the tip of Harry's tongue to shout, "Honey, I'm home!" as he entered the house, weighed down with shopping bags, but he managed to restrain himself. There was no sound of the television; in fact, the cottage was completely silent.
Harry stood and listened for a moment, before sending the bags through to the kitchen with a flick of his wand. Draco wouldn't have gone out on his own, would he? In spite of all Harry's assurances, Draco still viewed the forest with suspicion and he didn't have his wand so he couldn't apparate away.
He walked quickly through to the sitting room, his mouth opening to call Draco's name, and stopped dead in the doorway.
Then, he was across the room in a couple of strides and kneeling by the still form on the floor.
"Draco? Draco? Damn it, say something!"
There was no answer and no movement. Harry felt for Draco's pulse; it was faint and very slow but still beating regularly. Draco's chest was barely moving.
Harry drew back and it was then he noticed the chocolates spread around them on the carpet. He picked up the box and examined it. There was no note he could see and, he looked up, the window was open. It had come by owl, then. Why had Draco eaten anonymous chocolates? Did he know whom they were from?
Harry shook himself and stood up. Now was not the time for those questions. He bent down and gathered Draco to him, carrying him gently into his bedroom and laying him on the bed. Panic threatened to overcome him as he looked at the motionless body but he squashed it down and drew his wand.
He hadn't pulled so much power to himself since the War but the magic still came eagerly, flowing through him and down his wand. It was the strongest stasis charm he knew and, although he didn't usually like to think about it, he was an exceptionally powerful wizard.
A transparent bubble settled over Draco, shining in the sunlight that streamed through the window. That would keep him safe for now. As safe as he could be, anyway, until Harry found the antidote.
It was almost certainly a potion of some kind that had been in those chocolates. A spell was possible but unlikely; there certainly wasn't any trace of magic remaining in the ones that were left. At least finding the culprit shouldn't be difficult; there was only one person Harry was aware of that wanted to harm Draco.
Returning to the sitting room, Harry quickly picked up the fallen chocolates and returned them to the box. He would take them with him, although it was unlikely they would be much help. Any analysis would probably take too long and he wasn't sure how effectively his stasis spell would protect Draco as time went on.
Hermione would help him, he thought, as he closed the lid of the box. She must; the alternative was too frightening to contemplate. He couldn't lose Draco; not now, not ever. If Draco... left, Harry's heart would go with him.
Harry had never been more grateful for Hermione's levelheadedness. She was logical and spoke quickly but with common sense and it gave Harry a sense of hope.
He was dispatched to Hogwarts to seek out Professor Snape, since the help of a Potions Master was clearly necessary. She would go to Malfoy Manor to alert Narcissa Malfoy (or whatever her current married name was) to the fact that her son had now been the victim of two murderous attacks and, possibly, to extract the name of the potion from her husband.
Harry had wanted to go to Malfoy Manor but Hermione, very sensibly, forbade him. He was too emotionally involved, she said, and was quite likely to render the villain incapable of telling them anything.
At any other time, Harry might have savoured the feeling of being back at Hogwarts but he was in too much of a hurry now to do more than note the initial thrill of returning to his first real home. He was not looking forward to seeing Snape again but Hermione was right when she said they needed his help and the need to help Draco would surely override their personal antipathy.
Fortunately, Snape was not teaching a class when Harry arrived in the dungeons; he hadn't thought about what he would do if Snape was. His former professor was in his office, very menacing behind his desk as he looked up when Harry entered. The situation and the scowl that greeted him were so familiar that he felt momentarily disorientated.
"Potter," Snape stated, as if Harry's name was a nasty disease. "What are you doing here?"
Quelling the urge to punch Snape on his overly-large nose, Harry explained as concisely as he could and asked politely and earnestly for help. There was an odd glint in Snape's eyes as he stood up and walked thoughtfully up and down for a minute.
He turned to Harry.
"You have the remaining chocolates?"
Harry produced the box.
"Good. I shall start the analysis process at once, then."
He snatched the box from Harry's hand and placed it on his workbench, then striding to the cupboard at the back of the room and rummaging in it.
"But that will take too long!" Harry burst out. "Isn't there a universal antidote?"
Snape turned back to sneer at him briefly before returning his attention to the cupboard.
"I see you are as much a dunderhead as ever when it comes to Potions, Potter."
"Well, can't you diagnose it based on the symptoms?"
"I could," Snape admitted, "if you had given me any useful symptoms to work with. However, to be absolutely sure, the only option is to analyse the potion from the chocolates. Surely even you realise that to give a wrong antidote would be extremely dangerous or even fatal."
Harry started pacing in agitation. There had to be a quicker way of doing things. At any moment, the stasis spell might start wearing off. Putting the amount of magic into an ordinary spell that he had gave a powerful result in the short term but how long it would last was debatable.
He paused by Snape's desk and stared down at the items on it. It was mostly covered with school-related things; there were half-marked essays and a couple of Potions textbooks. There was a photograph on the desk as well and Harry was vaguely surprised that Snape had brought a little of his private life into his workplace.
Then, he looked more closely and a nasty creeping realisation came over him. It was a wedding photo; the bride and groom standing together, hardly moving at all. Only a slight breeze lifting the woman's hair showed that it was a magical picture.
Harry picked it up and stared down at the faces of Severus Snape and the former Narcissa Malfoy on their wedding day. He turned to Snape, who had closed the cupboard and was watching him.
"It was you," Harry said dully.
Snape inclined his head but said nothing.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"I'm sure Draco has told you his version of events. Doubtless, you would not believe anything I told you. The whole episode has been a nice illustration of the adage 'If you want something done, do it yourself.' That useless house elf eventually felt so guilty at having disobeyed me, in spirit if not in fact, that he confessed. After that, Draco was not so hard to find."
Harry's body was tense, ready for action, though he didn't know what action he could take that would help the situation. A thought occurred to him.
"Why are you still working here if you're married to Narcissa Malfoy? I thought you hated teaching."
Snape gave a smile that was more of a grimace.
"Two reasons. Firstly, an unfortunate promise that I made to Dumbledore and, second, the fact that Narcissa, whilst having her own money, does not control the Malfoy fortune. She gives me a little but it is not enough to sustain the lifestyle I would like. My dear stepson, I found, was unlikely to provide me with funds, even after he gains control of his money. Therefore, I have had to continue working here for the time being."
"And you're not going to provide me with the antidote to whatever you gave Draco, are you? Or even tell me what it is?"
"Correct. After all the trouble that boy has put me to, it would be a rather foolish idea to help revive him."
A rage that was fuelled by despair bubbled up inside Harry. Snape backed away as Harry approached but he looked wary rather than afraid.
"You have tried to murder Draco twice," Harry said, every instinct in him urging him to reach out and throttle the man in front of him.
"I would quibble with the word 'murder,' since the boy is not dead, but in essence you are right."
A sharply indrawn breath behind him made Harry turn, grateful for the distraction from the temptation to rip Snape apart with his bare hands.
Hermione stood in the doorway, a tall pale woman beside her. Even if Harry had not seen her before, the resemblance to Draco was too noticeable to ignore. He realised then, as an unconscious thought, that Draco's features owed far more to his mother than his father. There was a likeness to Sirius in both mother and son; clearly the Black genes were tenacious.
Harry could feel Snape shrinking back behind him at the look in Narcissa's eyes. In that moment, she was truly a mother dragon.
Before Harry could process what was happening, she had swept past him, curled up her hand into a delicate fist and punched Snape squarely on the nose. She was obviously stronger than she looked; he fell back, stumbling and only just keeping his feet under him.
"How dare you?" she hissed. "You told me Draco had gone to France."
"And you believed him?" Harry asked incredulously.
Narcissa's jaw tightened.
"I had no reason to disbelieve my husband; I did not know he had murderous intentions. Draco is prone to sudden whims and taking off with no word of warning is quite in character."
Hermione, ever the voice of reason, intervened.
"The most urgent concern right now is getting the antidote."
All eyes turned back to Snape.
"He says he won't tell me what it is," Harry said.
Narcissa smiled at her husband coldly.
"I think he will, won't you, Severus?"
There was a moment's silence as the two stared at each other. Snape's face paled. He turned slowly away to the cupboard.
"It's in here," he said hoarsely.
He took a vial of dark green liquid off the topmost shelf and held it out. Harry took it and looked at it doubtfully.
"How do we know this is the right one?" he asked.
Snape glanced nervously at Narcissa, whose eyes were still fixed on him like a basilisk.
"It's the right one," he replied.
Harry looked at Narcissa. After a moment, she nodded briefly, her eyes never leaving Snape.
"You two run along and make sure my son is all right," she said softly. "I will summon the Aurors and wait with Severus until they arrive. I believe the two of us need to have a little chat, anyway."
Hermione hesitated only a moment before following Harry. Whatever happened to Snape at Narcissa's hands, it would be no more than he deserved.
Draco came back to awareness slowly and with not much enthusiasm. His head ached, he still felt sick and a general feeling of grogginess hung over him. He cracked his eyes open a fraction and immediately closed them again.
"Oh, I'm dying," he moaned.
There was a familiar chuckle from close by and Draco was suddenly aware that he was resting snugly in someone's arms.
"No you're not," Harry's voice said. "You've finished dying and you're getting better now."
Draco opened his eyes and squinted up at Harry.
"What happened?"
Harry's smile vanished.
"Snape happened," he said grimly.
Draco frowned.
"How...? The last I remember is eating the chocolates you sent... Oh. You didn't send them, did you?"
"No." Harry smiled. "I'm not in the habit of giving poisoned chocolates to the person I'm in love with."
"But how did he find out...?" Draco blinked. "What did you say?"
"You gave me a hell of a shock, Draco," Harry replied softly, drawing him closer. "I nearly lost you. I couldn't have... oh, Draco."
Harry leaned his forehead against Draco's and stroked his hair. Draco closed his eyes and leaned into Harry's hand.
So Harry did love him, even if he hadn't sent the chocolates. He shifted slightly, angling his head to the side and offering up his lips.
"What I don't understand," said Weasley-née-Granger's annoyingly cheerful voice, "is why the potion didn't work faster. Draco had managed to eat half the box before it had any effect."
Harry drew back slightly with a fond chuckle.
"You've never seen Draco eating chocolate," he said.
Draco blushed.
"Are you feeling all right, now?" she went on.
Draco considered this and found that he was. The grogginess was passing and now that Harry... Well, life seemed pretty good now.
He nodded and she got to her feet.
"I'll be getting back to Hogwarts, then, to make sure Narcissa hasn't had any trouble with Snape."
"Mother?" Draco asked. "Was she there?"
"Yes. From the way she was looking at him, I'd be surprised if there's much left to hand over to the Aurors. If she asks, I'll tell her to wait till tomorrow before coming over, shall I?"
She was looking at them with a Dumbledore-esque twinkle in her eyes and Draco nodded briefly before burying his face in Harry's neck.
He heard her walk out of the room and then the crack of apparition and, suddenly feeling shy, he lifted his head slowly. Everything he was considering saying flew out of his mind as soon as he met Harry's eyes but maybe it wasn't necessary to speak at all.
There was tenderness and love and a million possibilities of happiness in Harry's face and Draco hoped his own face was answering every question Harry might have. Harry stroked his cheek and kissed the end of his nose.
Draco relaxed further into his embrace and sighed happily.
"Harry," he murmured.
"Draco," Harry replied, leaning down to kiss him.
Their lips met and Draco revelled in the sensations and the fact that this was Harry who was kissing him, Harry in whose arms he lay.
A sudden thought occurred to him and he broke the kiss.
"You are going to marry me, aren't you?" he asked.
Harry laughed.
"If you've no objections."
Draco smiled and shook his head. They gazed at one another for a few moments, not needing further contact but savouring each other's presence. Then Draco bit his lip and swallowed.
"Harry," he whispered.
"Yes, love?"
"I feel sick."
"Draco Malfoy, what have you got to say for yourself? You just disappear and I don't hear anything from you for years and years and then you think you can turn up again with no explanation?"
Pansy was just getting into full flow and Draco desperately tried to cut off her rant.
"Come and meet my fiancé," he blurted. She stared at him.
"Fiancé?"
"Yes, I'm engaged." He blushed slightly. "And I promise I will tell you everything that's happened."
She sniffed.
"Well, all right. I suppose I ought to make sure he's respectable."
Draco winced slightly.
"Um, perhaps I should tell you who he is before you meet him... In any case, it hasn't really been years since I disappeared."
"It might as well have been."
"Well, I wrote to you. I wrote several letters."
"I never received any."
"Ah, well, that might be because I didn't actually send them."
"Of course. Perish the thought that I should receive a letter that was written to me."
Draco scowled.
"Well you're not reading any of these letters. I just meant that I didn't completely forget you."
"You're even more peculiar than I remember," Pansy said haughtily. "So who is this mysterious character you're engaged to?"
"You won't fly off the handle, will you, Pans...?"
When they finally arrived at the cottage, Pansy looked around with a scandalised expression before turning to Draco.
"Darling," she said earnestly, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea; no wonder you didn't get in touch."
"What do you mean?" Draco asked in puzzlement.
"I didn't realise you'd been living in a hovel," Pansy explained, her eyes wide with horror. "It must have been simply ghastly for you."
Draco glanced anxiously at Harry, hoping he wasn't too offended, but Harry merely looked amused.
"It's not a hovel, Pansy," Draco said firmly. "It's a..." He fumbled for the right word. "Bijou residence," he finished triumphantly.
Pansy gave him a look that was half disbelief and half pity and patted him on the head.
"Of course, darling."
Narcissa insisted on organising the wedding, of course. It was not to be a lavish affair, since she was currently in mourning for her late husband who, sadly, had not survived to greet the Aurors that came to arrest him. No one was particularly sorry that Snape would not get to stand trial and his funeral was brief and businesslike, rather than sorrowful. In some areas, it seemed, Narcissa had as much motherly feeling as anyone else, even if she wasn't usually the maternal sort. Attempted murder, especially aimed at her son, was something she felt strongly about.
Draco managed to extort an astronomical amount of money from his trustees and paid for new outfits for the entire Weasley family. It was, he explained to Pansy, less a matter of charity or goodwill and more that he didn't want Harry's family to look as if they had just crawled out of a hedge.
The wedding night, eagerly anticipated by both grooms, who had been strictly separated before the wedding by Pansy and Hermione, was spent at the cottage. Harry and Draco both preferred the idea of making their home at the cottage rather than the Manor but, when they were in Narcissa's presence, the matter was still officially undecided.
Harry apparated them away only half an hour after the ceremony finished. Narcissa would probably be angry that they were missing most of the reception but, right now, there were more pressing needs than satisfying social conventions.
They stumbled into what had been Harry's bedroom and was now their bedroom, joined at the lips. Harry was tugging at the fastenings on Draco's robes and made a noise of displeasure when Draco pulled away.
"I'll just be a moment," Draco said breathily as he disappeared into the bathroom.
Harry busied himself with removing his own robes and the stiff boots that he had been persuaded to wear. He was standing in black trousers and white shirt when a slight sound made him look up.
Draco stood in the doorway, looking up at Harry coyly. A short, white satin robe was wrapped around his body, his legs from mid thigh downwards bare. Harry stared, all thought of his own clothing gone.
"Draco," he croaked, holding his hand out.
Draco came to him readily, sliding into his arms as if he had been doing it all his life. Harry raised a hand and lightly touched the satin that covered Draco's shoulder.
"I thought you might like to unwrap me," Draco said with a wicked smile.
"You're certainly the best present I've ever received."
Harry slowly pulled the wrap open and let it slide from Draco's shoulders into a shiny heap on the floor. He ran his hands over the smooth chest and down Draco's arms, linking their fingers together.
"I must be the luckiest man in the world," he murmured as he leaned forward to nuzzle Draco's neck. "All this, just for me."
Draco squeaked as he was suddenly swept up and deposited gently on the bed. Harry leaned over him and rubbed their noses together.
"Don't go anywhere," he said, pulling back to attack his clothes.
Draco propped himself up to watch.
"Don't worry, I won't be moving from here. Not unless you take too long getting undressed."
Finally naked, Harry stalked towards Draco and crawled onto the bed to hover over him.
"You don't have to wait any longer."
Draco found himself suddenly short of breath.
"Good. I find myself with an urgent need for my husband."
"I think I can satisfy you there."
Harry lowered his body and Draco gasped at the sudden overwhelming contact. He lifted his head, desperately searching for Harry's mouth. Harry kissed him with undiluted passion, their tongues writhing like a pair of mating snakes.
Eventually, Harry broke away and kissed down Draco's neck.
"I think kissing you is the second best thing in the world."
One of his hands crept down to stroke Draco's side.
"Only the second best?" Draco managed.
Harry raised his head and stared heatedly down at his husband.
"I can think of something better."
Holding Draco's gaze, he slithered down the bed, pausing to kiss the pale stomach, until he was lying between Draco's legs. There was a strangled whimper as Harry took just the head of Draco's cock into his mouth and sucked.
The whimper turned into gasps and moans and Draco writhed frantically as Harry turned his attention fully towards his task. He didn't even notice at first that Harry was pressing suddenly slick fingers against his arse, only realising what a skilled multi-tasker Harry was when those fingers nudged his prostate and he nearly catapulted them both off the bed.
Harry let Draco's cock slide out of his mouth and grinned.
"You like that?" he asked as he rubbed at the gland again.
Draco wailed helplessly and clutched at the sheets.
"Harry," he begged. "Harry, Harry, Harry."
Harry kissed his inner thigh, his light stubble brushing the skin and making Draco wriggle, and shifted, sitting up and pulling Draco's hips onto his lap. He positioned himself and pushed slowly into Draco, his own breath coming raggedly now.
When he was as deep as he could go, he leaned down and kissed Draco tenderly. Draco made a small noise of contentment and wrapped his legs around Harry's waist.
"Move," he whispered.
Harry was happy to obey.
Their movements gradually grew faster, more frantic and less co-ordinated as their coupling continued. They exchanged wet sloppy kisses that were barely kisses at all, sucking and drinking each other's breath in.
Harry reached a hand down to wrap around Draco's cock and the legs around his waist tightened like a vice; the heat around him did likewise and Draco came, his back bending and arching. Harry was awe-struck by the sight of Draco's ecstasy and he quickly followed his husband over the edge.
They lay in a sweaty crumpled heap for several minutes until Harry regretfully pulled out. He started to shift to one side but Draco's arms wound around his neck and pulled him back down on top of him.
"Am I squashing you?" Harry asked from where his face was pressed into Draco's neck.
"Mmm," Draco replied sleepily. "I like it."
There was a long pause.
"A cleaning spell would be good, though."
Harry obliged and they subsided into half-slumber, Draco's fingers combing lazily through Harry's hair.
"I'm glad you came here," Harry said eventually.
"Me too," Draco said. "And now you can love me and worship me and pamper me forever."
"And make you chocolate cake," Harry finished, kissing the spot just under Draco's ear.
In spite of the post-coital lethargy that hung over him, Draco's lips stretched in a delighted smile.
"Oh, you know the way to my heart," he said.
Author:
fantasyfruitbat Prompt: #46, Snow White
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione, Narcissa/???
Summary: Draco has everything he thinks he wants. An attempted murder, however, brings him far more than he had ever expected.
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me; I’m just having fun playing with the characters.
Beta: Anna, who’s not on LJ.
Warning(s): Bit of smut at the end; I don’t think there’s anything squicky.
Word Count: ~8600
Author's Notes: Set AU post-War (no HBP or DH). I really really enjoyed writing this; I hope you like what I’ve done with it.
Skin as white as snow, hair as black as ebony, lips as red as blood.
Only the first of these could be said to be true of Draco. The third had applied on one occasion when he had let Pansy use her make-up on him but he never admitted to that.
Suffice it to say, Draco Malfoy was gorgeous. He was also very rich, or at least, he would be once he reached his twenty-first birthday and took control of his trust funds and the Malfoy fortune. Until then, he had to survive on his allowance, a trifling amount that would have fed several families but barely covered Draco's shopping bills.
How those curmudgeonly trustees expected him to adequately clothe himself on the pittance he received, Draco didn't know. Then again, they all dressed as their great great great grandfathers had dressed, so they clearly had no idea of the importance of good clothes.
Draco described himself as a semi-orphan, since his beloved father had died a couple of years before, during the War. Lucius Malfoy may have been, well, rather a rogue but he had still been Draco's father and Draco missed him, even if he didn't think about him very often.
The forest was thick and dark and seemed to be closing in as Draco ran through the undergrowth. Brambles were tearing at his legs, having quickly got through the expensive cloth of his trousers. There were noises all around him; strange noises that suggested large Malfoy-eating monsters hiding in the undergrowth. Draco had no idea what they might be but he didn't fancy hanging around to find out.
Eventually, the brambles gave way to thin whipping branches that smacked him in the face and slowed his progress considerably. Still, at least the thorns had stopped, which was a relief, since large patches of his skin were bare now and he was covered with scratches.
It must have been raining recently, he thought vaguely, splashing through another puddle that drenched his feet and threw mud up his legs. Grimy water was trickling down the inside of his thighs and it felt like small insects were crawling over him but he didn't have time to stop and find out.
Suddenly, he became aware that the noises around him had ceased. He slowed to a walk and then halted, listening hard.
The silence was complete, a great deadening fog that had settled over the forest. There was a tension in the air, however, and Draco felt that he was not alone. There seemed to be a presence coming nearer but the only sounds were his ragged gasps for breath and the blood pumping in his ears.
The presence was almost on top of him now and he looked around wildly.
There was nothing there, nothing but the trees and the bushes, no sound but himself.
Draco's whole being tingled with the sense of danger; he felt eyes watching him from all directions and finally he could stand it no longer and fled.
Whatever it was that was stalking him followed swiftly, silent and menacing. Draco tripped several times, hauling himself up each time and staggering on, desperate to escape from his pursuer.
He couldn't make out where he was going or what lay ahead but that didn't matter. All he could think was, "Run, run, run."
Then, the ground disappeared from under his feet, giving way with a squelch and plunging him up to his chest in a bog. He pulled himself forward, seeing the ground appearing again not far away and crawled out, sobbing for air, his energy spent. The presence still hung around him and, not realising that, had it wanted to attack him, it could have done so many times before now, he crawled forward, the rough ground hurting his hands and eventually forcing him to rise to his feet.
Sunlight coming through the trees ahead gave him one last burst of strength and he emerged from the forest into a clearing. A cottage sat in the middle, a well-tended vegetable patch to one side and roses covering much of the walls.
Whatever was chasing him seemed reluctant to leave the trees and Draco tottered weakly to the door, sinking to the ground to lean against the wall and flapping a limp hand against the wood.
"Hello?" he called, once he had got some of his breath back. "Anyone?"
Footsteps sounded and the door opened. Draco didn't have the energy to lift his head but a familiar gasp made his heart pound.
Surely, it couldn't be...
"Malfoy! What the hell happened to you? What are you doing here?"
It was. It was Potter.
Draco managed to look up at him. Potter had always liked rescuing people so the situation was hopeful, even though they hadn't got on very well in the past and Draco currently looked like he'd... well, been mud wrestling with a manticore.
"Potter," he croaked. "Help me. He tried to kill me and then, in the forest..." Draco looked fearfully at the trees, in case the monster was waiting for him.
There was a short pause and then Potter bent down and pulled Draco gently to his feet.
"Come inside and we'll get you cleaned up," he said. "No one's going to kill you here."
Heedless of the mud and bits of foliage that decorated Draco, Harry Potter put an arm around his waist and half-led, half-carried Draco into the cottage. The door shut behind them and Draco finally felt safe.
By the time he was clean, clothed, healed and respectable again, Draco was a boiling mass of sexual frustration. The hot water of the bath was a wonderful balm for his aching muscles but made the thorn scratches and the bruises he hadn't been aware of tingle and smart.
Potter then refused to allow him to get dressed until he had healed all of Draco's wounds, slight as some of them were, and being in close proximity to his host, while dressed only in a towel, was difficult, to say the least. Potter had gone into compassionate mode, either not remembering or not caring who Draco was. Draco hoped it was the latter but he wasn't sure.
Under the annoyingly complete cover of his clothes, Potter was nicely muscled, more so than Draco, and there was a hint of dark stubble on his face that made Draco's body itch. Not even Pansy knew that Draco's secret kink was a manly chin, covered with stubble, scratching him lightly as it moved over his most sensitive places. He pressed his thighs together and tensed, trying to subdue the urge to leap on Potter and rip his clothes off. Potter promptly apologised for hurting him and his subsequent spells were even gentler than before.
Eventually, Draco's skin was once more pristine and flawless and Potter fetched some clothes for him. They were too big for him and the soft wool sweater hugged him like a friendly bear. As he finished dressing and prepared to leave the bedroom, he wondered if Potter's hugs were like that. Draco thought they were; he imagined Potter would wrap his arms around Draco like a giant cocoon and Draco would be surrounded by Potter's scent and his warmth and...
Draco stopped his thoughts abruptly and tried to will his erection away. He couldn't face Potter in this state and hope to be taken seriously as the victim of an attempted murder. The thought of the events that had brought him to Potter's cottage speedily squashed his arousal and he walked slowly into the sitting room, where Potter was just bringing in two mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of biscuits.
"It all started," Draco said, when he was curled up on the sofa, hot chocolate in one hand and biscuit in the other, "when my mother decided she was going to marry again. You see, my stepfather is not only a family friend, he is also a lecherous old man with wandering hands."
"He came on to you?"
"Yes. He'd been drooling over me for some time and a couple of days ago he started actually pawing at me. Of course, I told him in no uncertain terms where to go. I also said that I'd be telling Mother just what sort of a creature she'd married. Mother can be an absolute harpy sometimes so I knew that I had rattled him."
He paused, taking a sip of chocolate, not looking forward to telling the next part.
"This morning, one of the house elves, Tippy, came and told me that my stepfather wanted to see me and had instructed the elf to take me to his laboratory, rather than allowing me to make my own way there. I thought that was a bit weird but he's always doing strange things with the wards so I assumed it was because of that.
"The next thing I knew, we were in a place I had never seen before, on the edge of a dark forest and Tippy was looking at me with tears running down his face. He said he was horrified at what he had to do but that my stepfather was legally and magically his master and so he had to obey him. Then, he held out a vial of something and said that if I didn't drink it myself he would have to force me to."
Draco stopped his narrative, breathing deeply to calm himself. Potter moved closer on the sofa and put a comforting hand on his arm. Draco smiled at him rather shakily.
"Tippy said it was a sleeping death potion - the drinker falls into an everlasting sleep with no dreams and no waking. I don't know why it wasn't an ordinary poison but I suppose the risk of being caught would be greater with that. If I was actually dead, I might be able to come back as a ghost and spill the beans.
"House elf magic is not pleasant when it's used on a human and I really didn't want to force Tippy into having to force me. I tried to persuade him that he didn't have to give the potion to me. He said he wanted to help but his loyalty was bound to his master and he couldn't disobey. Eventually, he said that, perhaps, if I ran away, it would be all right. His instructions had been to get rid of me and, although my stepfather gave him the potion, he hadn't specifically instructed Tippy to use it. A mere quibble over words but, in this case, a useful one.
"I must have left my wand at home, or maybe Tippy had been told to get it away from me, and my only thought was to get away before he changed his mind and decided he had to obey his master. I ran into the forest. I thought it wasn't too big, at first, but the trees never seemed to end and then I became aware of something following me."
Draco shivered, the memory of his journey through the forest almost worse than what had gone before.
"I ran and ran until I arrived here."
He smiled faintly, trying to find a little humour to lighten the situation.
"And that creature chased me into a bog on the way. Still," he turned to Potter, his face pale and drawn but composed now his tale was finished, "At least it didn't actually eat me."
Potter shook his head. His hand was still on Draco's arm.
"That's an unbelievable story. I don't mean I don't believe you; I do," he added hastily. "But, for your stepfather to instruct a house elf to kill you." He swallowed and shook his head again. "It's horrible."
They sat in silence for a moment.
"I suppose I should tell you," Potter said eventually, "there aren't really any dangerous creatures in the forest." Draco raised an eyebrow. "When I moved in here, I was desperate for privacy. It was just after the War, you see, and the Press wouldn't leave me alone, so I put up very extensive wards around the place. They extend right through the forest, so that if anyone tries to approach, they think there are monsters and... things trying to attack them. They work on the person's fears, so they see or hear whatever they're afraid of, within a forest context. You're the only person who's ever made it through."
Draco stared at him for a moment and Potter flushed.
"I don't know whether that makes it better or not," Draco said at last. "You can certainly congratulate yourself on your wards; they nearly scared the life out of me."
"Sorry." There was a pause. "What are you going to do now?"
Draco shrugged and wrapped his arms around himself.
"I don't know. I really... I don't think I can go home, not just yet. I'm not quite of age, at least in terms of my trust fund and the family holdings, so there's nothing I can do about kicking my stepfather out of the house and who would believe me if I said he'd tried to kill me? The only witness to that is Tippy and he'd be got rid of immediately, if he hasn't been already. Mother is... Well, she's glad I'm grown up now; it means hardly any responsibility for her. I don't want to go home yet."
He turned to Potter.
"I don't suppose I could stay here, just for a little while?"
Potter hesitated.
"Please. I'll try not to be any trouble," Draco went on, coming very close to begging.
His eyes were very large and Potter gazed at him for a few moments before nodding.
"Of course you can stay," he said softly. "Stay as long as you want."
Draco sighed in relief, suddenly feeling warm and secure.
"Thank you." A lump was in his throat and his eyes were suspiciously wet but he was happy. "I hope we can forget how we were in school and start again. I know I'd like to and I meant it when I said I didn't want to give you any trouble."
"I don't think you'll cause any trouble I can't handle," Potter said with a smile. He held out his hand. "By the way, I'm Harry. Pleased to meet you."
Draco took his hand, a thrill shooting through him at the thought of finally being on the right side of Harry Potter.
"I'm Draco and I'm very glad to meet you."
Dear Pansy,
I hope you don't mind my using your name but, since you're not ever (I hope) going to see these letters, I doubt it will cause a problem if you do. I've decided I want to keep a record of my suddenly-very-eventful life and, since I'm not a girl and therefore can't keep a diary, I thought I would write letters to you.
You know, I think living with Potter won't be so bad. He's been awfully considerate and keeps asking me if I need anything. I think he thinks I'm still dreadfully traumatised by the whole house-elf-trying-to-kill-me thing. Well, I'm not exactly happy about it and, no matter what he says, the thought of what might be out there in the forest fills me with dread but I'm not cowering in a corner, whimpering.
Potter - I mean Harry - has become very good looking. You'd envy my being here, Pans. You'd envy me my company, at least. He has this funny lop-sided smile, which does strange things to my insides and makes me feel as if I was fifty feet from the ground and my broom had disappeared from under me. Does that sound really mushy? Oh well, I have a feeling Harry Potter's smile could make anyone mushy.
The cottage isn't too bad, either. Harry has a moving picture box, which he says is a muggle invention, and which is great fun. I wasn't too sure about it at first - you always have to be careful with muggle things - but there are some really gorgeous men inside it and now I have to keep on watching to make sure I don't miss them.
I'd better go now - Harry has just called out that the chocolate cake he was making is done. Baking seems to be one of his hobbies and it's certainly one of his skills.
Why didn't I make more of an effort with Harry years ago?
Draco
"Dear Merlin, how many of them are there?"
"Draco, you promised to be nice, remember?"
"Harry, they're looking at me."
"They're not going to hurt you. Just behave yourself and exercise some of that Malfoy charm and everything will be fine."
"Why did I let you talk me into coming here?"
"As I recall, you didn't want to stay in the house on your own. Now, come on, let me introduce you."
"We, who are about to die..."
"Behave."
Dear Pansy,
You would not believe the amount of ginger hair I have had to suffer this evening. Harry went to have dinner with his adoptive family and asked me to come along too, so I went - right into the nest of Weasels! They call it The Burrow - do weasels live in burrows?
Needless to say, The Weasel (Harry's pet weasel from school) was not pleased to see me. Surprisingly, it was Granger (now a Weasel herself) who calmed him down but she also made it clear that she did not approve of my presence there.
The eldest of the brood is very good looking but, sadly, completely straight. The second eldest (not quite so handsome but attractive in a rugged way) is not straight at all. When he sat down rather too close to me on the sofa and told me he was a dragon tamer, I nearly hexed his bits off. It turned out that wasn't actually a cheesy come-on line and he really does work with dragons. After that, we had a long conversation and I managed to wangle an invitation to go and visit him at the Reserve. Harry didn't look too pleased when I told him - I'm hoping that's because he's jealous.
The other members of the family - barring Mr and Mrs Weasley, who were both surprisingly polite - were not so pleasant. There's the one who must have been even more of a teacher's pet in school than Granger was, twin menaces that Harry had, fortunately, warned me about earlier (not to be trusted) and the little She-Weasel who used to have a crush on Harry. I don't trust her; I think she's still after him. She's not going to get him.
All in all, the evening didn't turn out as awful as I had feared but it's not an experience I want to repeat too often. At least the food was good.
Draco
"Draco, you don't have to be quite that precise. It's a cake, not a potion."
"Well, I would like to get it right. I don't really fancy flour and egg exploding all over me."
"It's not going to explode."
"I bet that's what you always thought at school, too. You always were atrocious at Potions."
"But I'm good at baking. At least, that's what you've been saying for the past week."
"Yes." Sigh. "I don't suppose you'd-"
"No. You said you wanted to make this cake yourself and that's what you're going to do. Just keep thinking about the end result."
"I am."
"Don't be melodramatic. Here, you can use the mixer now."
"It's not going to bite me, is it?"
Dear Pansy,
Weasley and Weasley-née-Granger came over today. No matter what Harry says, Weasley is a buffoon. Weasley-née-Granger is tolerable, I suppose, if rather alarming. She rants. A lot. She also has strange ideas about house elves. I think that was why she warmed to me this evening - I said I never wanted to see another house elf again and would certainly never keep any in the future (and, really, can you blame me?) and she got this delighted look and began telling me all about how slavery was abominable and all elves wanted to be free. I'm not sure where she got that idea - you can't get rid of the ones at the Manor - they just hang around and refuse to leave if they're given clothing. Still, I seem to be in Weasley-née-Granger's good books now and Harry is happy about it. Weasley is not.
Draco
"Now stir it seven and a half times clockwise."
"Why seven and a half? Why not eight?"
"Because eight would be too much and it would end up like treacle. Seven and a half helps the potion to thicken just enough; at the moment it's too thin. When it's as watery as it is now, you'd have to take a bucketful for it to have any effect."
"Tell me what it is again."
"It helps the body to absorb far more nutrients from the food you eat than it can normally. It has a similar effect on plants as well, although with plants the results are more obvious, since it stimulates rapid growth. I thought it might be useful for your garden - it's far more effective than shop-bought plant food."
"Well, it's very kind of you to teach me. How do you know this potion, though? I've never imagined you as the gardening sort."
"Pansy's mother got me to make it for her a few years ago when she was going in for flower and vegetable shows. She's got a whole cabinet full of trophies that she won because of my potion."
"I think that's called cheating, Draco."
"No, Harry, it's called being a Slytherin."
Dear Pansy,
Well, perhaps the Weasel isn't all bad, after all. He can play chess quite well, which is more than can be said for Harry. Harry was awfully pleased that we were getting on so well. I think he does like me - Harry, that is, not Weasley.
Wish me luck.
Draco
"Harry, are you sure about this?"
"I promise there are no monsters in the forest, Draco."
"What about what happened to me? Are you suggesting I imagined it?"
"Well, you weren't actually attacked, were you? You fell in the bog."
"I don't think I need to be reminded of that, Potter. Anyway, I was definitely chased. It wasn't as if I jumped into the bog on purpose."
"I did explain about the wards, Draco, so-"
"What was that? Harry, did you hear it? It was just the other side of those bushes!"
"There's nothing to be frightened of. It's probably just an animal."
"You'd better not disappear off and leave me here."
"The way you're hanging on to me, there's no chance of that."
"You don't mind."
"No, I suppose not. It's not everyday I have a gorgeous blond leaping into my arms."
"You think I'm gorgeous?"
"Er... Perhaps we should be getting back, now..."
"Draco? I'm going out now to get the groceries. Do you want anything?"
Draco emerged from the kitchen, a plate of chocolate cake in his hand. Harry laughed.
"I should get some more cake ingredients, I suppose?" he said.
Draco's eyes lit up.
"I did find something in one of your recipe books that I wanted to try," he replied eagerly. "White chocolate and raspberries."
"You can't live on cake and chocolate, you know."
Draco grinned at Harry and walked past towards the sitting room.
"Just watch me," he called.
There was the sound of the television being switched on and Harry listened for a moment before turning towards the door.
"I'm off now. See you later."
Draco mumbled something through a mouthful of cake and Harry left the house with a smile on his face.
After sitting through a particularly informative cooking program with a very attractive presenter, Draco heard a scratching at the window. He went over and saw a rather ugly looking owl sitting on the windowsill with a package tied to its leg.
Thinking it was something for Harry, he was surprised to see his own name on the label as he retrieved it from the bird. The bird glowered at him and flew off immediately it was free of its burden.
He opened the package tentatively, not sure what to expect. The wrapping fell away to reveal an expensive box of chocolates. Draco's mouth watered at the sight but he was puzzled as to the box's origins and sat staring at it for a few minutes.
The only people who knew he was here were Harry and the Weasleys. He thought it rather unlikely to have come from any of the Weasleys; the only one who might have sent it was Charlie and Draco doubted he was the sort to send chocolates to someone he wanted to impress.
He bit his lip, still staring at the box, willing it to tell him its secrets.
It couldn't have come from Harry, could it? Draco had been hoping he would make a move and, in the past few days, they had been closer than ever. There were a few occasions when he had really thought Harry was about to declare his feelings or just dispense with words and kiss him.
Perhaps Harry wasn't as bold in matters of the heart as he was in everything else, Draco thought. After all, that business with Cho Chang at school would hardly have encouraged him to be open and upfront about any romantic feelings he had. Draco didn't know of any other relationships that Harry had had since then, although he thought there had probably been a few.
Draco opened the box. Oh, it had to be from Harry. The chocolates were large and creamy-looking and Harry knew how much Draco loved chocolates.
Yes, it must be Harry's way of telling Draco he cared about him. A wide smile broke out across his face. Well, the feelings were definitely reciprocated. Draco sighed, his heart feeling full and warm.
His hand hovered over the chocolates. It really was difficult to decide which one to have first. Still, he had a whole box to himself. He would save some for Harry, of course.
He chose a chocolate and bit into it. It was rich and sweet and delicious. He closed his eyes, savouring the flavour.
Perhaps a dark one next. Dark and strong and slightly mysterious, like Harry.
Then, something fruity.
There was a light creamy one as well, which melted in his mouth like butter.
Draco was in heaven; a wonderful chocolate heaven, where he knew that Harry loved him and had given him all these incredible chocolates. He smiled dreamily. Poor, darling Harry, being too shy to give them to him in person. As soon as Harry got home, Draco would make sure that his own feelings were perfectly clear. Then, Harry would kiss him and hold him close and...
He felt awfully drowsy. Rather sick, as well. Perhaps he had eaten too many chocolates. Draco tried to look down at the box to see how many were left but the box appeared blurry and his head was heavy and it was difficult to make anything out.
Surely this wasn't a normal reaction to eating chocolates? He had never felt like this before. A faint spike of alarm rose through him and he felt afraid.
"Harry," he whispered and was shocked at how indistinct his voice sounded.
Draco tried to fight the lethargy and struggled to his feet, the chocolates falling to the floor. A moment later, Draco followed them, his legs too weak to support him.
It wasn't long before the fight became too much and he finally succumbed to darkness.
It was on the tip of Harry's tongue to shout, "Honey, I'm home!" as he entered the house, weighed down with shopping bags, but he managed to restrain himself. There was no sound of the television; in fact, the cottage was completely silent.
Harry stood and listened for a moment, before sending the bags through to the kitchen with a flick of his wand. Draco wouldn't have gone out on his own, would he? In spite of all Harry's assurances, Draco still viewed the forest with suspicion and he didn't have his wand so he couldn't apparate away.
He walked quickly through to the sitting room, his mouth opening to call Draco's name, and stopped dead in the doorway.
Then, he was across the room in a couple of strides and kneeling by the still form on the floor.
"Draco? Draco? Damn it, say something!"
There was no answer and no movement. Harry felt for Draco's pulse; it was faint and very slow but still beating regularly. Draco's chest was barely moving.
Harry drew back and it was then he noticed the chocolates spread around them on the carpet. He picked up the box and examined it. There was no note he could see and, he looked up, the window was open. It had come by owl, then. Why had Draco eaten anonymous chocolates? Did he know whom they were from?
Harry shook himself and stood up. Now was not the time for those questions. He bent down and gathered Draco to him, carrying him gently into his bedroom and laying him on the bed. Panic threatened to overcome him as he looked at the motionless body but he squashed it down and drew his wand.
He hadn't pulled so much power to himself since the War but the magic still came eagerly, flowing through him and down his wand. It was the strongest stasis charm he knew and, although he didn't usually like to think about it, he was an exceptionally powerful wizard.
A transparent bubble settled over Draco, shining in the sunlight that streamed through the window. That would keep him safe for now. As safe as he could be, anyway, until Harry found the antidote.
It was almost certainly a potion of some kind that had been in those chocolates. A spell was possible but unlikely; there certainly wasn't any trace of magic remaining in the ones that were left. At least finding the culprit shouldn't be difficult; there was only one person Harry was aware of that wanted to harm Draco.
Returning to the sitting room, Harry quickly picked up the fallen chocolates and returned them to the box. He would take them with him, although it was unlikely they would be much help. Any analysis would probably take too long and he wasn't sure how effectively his stasis spell would protect Draco as time went on.
Hermione would help him, he thought, as he closed the lid of the box. She must; the alternative was too frightening to contemplate. He couldn't lose Draco; not now, not ever. If Draco... left, Harry's heart would go with him.
Harry had never been more grateful for Hermione's levelheadedness. She was logical and spoke quickly but with common sense and it gave Harry a sense of hope.
He was dispatched to Hogwarts to seek out Professor Snape, since the help of a Potions Master was clearly necessary. She would go to Malfoy Manor to alert Narcissa Malfoy (or whatever her current married name was) to the fact that her son had now been the victim of two murderous attacks and, possibly, to extract the name of the potion from her husband.
Harry had wanted to go to Malfoy Manor but Hermione, very sensibly, forbade him. He was too emotionally involved, she said, and was quite likely to render the villain incapable of telling them anything.
At any other time, Harry might have savoured the feeling of being back at Hogwarts but he was in too much of a hurry now to do more than note the initial thrill of returning to his first real home. He was not looking forward to seeing Snape again but Hermione was right when she said they needed his help and the need to help Draco would surely override their personal antipathy.
Fortunately, Snape was not teaching a class when Harry arrived in the dungeons; he hadn't thought about what he would do if Snape was. His former professor was in his office, very menacing behind his desk as he looked up when Harry entered. The situation and the scowl that greeted him were so familiar that he felt momentarily disorientated.
"Potter," Snape stated, as if Harry's name was a nasty disease. "What are you doing here?"
Quelling the urge to punch Snape on his overly-large nose, Harry explained as concisely as he could and asked politely and earnestly for help. There was an odd glint in Snape's eyes as he stood up and walked thoughtfully up and down for a minute.
He turned to Harry.
"You have the remaining chocolates?"
Harry produced the box.
"Good. I shall start the analysis process at once, then."
He snatched the box from Harry's hand and placed it on his workbench, then striding to the cupboard at the back of the room and rummaging in it.
"But that will take too long!" Harry burst out. "Isn't there a universal antidote?"
Snape turned back to sneer at him briefly before returning his attention to the cupboard.
"I see you are as much a dunderhead as ever when it comes to Potions, Potter."
"Well, can't you diagnose it based on the symptoms?"
"I could," Snape admitted, "if you had given me any useful symptoms to work with. However, to be absolutely sure, the only option is to analyse the potion from the chocolates. Surely even you realise that to give a wrong antidote would be extremely dangerous or even fatal."
Harry started pacing in agitation. There had to be a quicker way of doing things. At any moment, the stasis spell might start wearing off. Putting the amount of magic into an ordinary spell that he had gave a powerful result in the short term but how long it would last was debatable.
He paused by Snape's desk and stared down at the items on it. It was mostly covered with school-related things; there were half-marked essays and a couple of Potions textbooks. There was a photograph on the desk as well and Harry was vaguely surprised that Snape had brought a little of his private life into his workplace.
Then, he looked more closely and a nasty creeping realisation came over him. It was a wedding photo; the bride and groom standing together, hardly moving at all. Only a slight breeze lifting the woman's hair showed that it was a magical picture.
Harry picked it up and stared down at the faces of Severus Snape and the former Narcissa Malfoy on their wedding day. He turned to Snape, who had closed the cupboard and was watching him.
"It was you," Harry said dully.
Snape inclined his head but said nothing.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"I'm sure Draco has told you his version of events. Doubtless, you would not believe anything I told you. The whole episode has been a nice illustration of the adage 'If you want something done, do it yourself.' That useless house elf eventually felt so guilty at having disobeyed me, in spirit if not in fact, that he confessed. After that, Draco was not so hard to find."
Harry's body was tense, ready for action, though he didn't know what action he could take that would help the situation. A thought occurred to him.
"Why are you still working here if you're married to Narcissa Malfoy? I thought you hated teaching."
Snape gave a smile that was more of a grimace.
"Two reasons. Firstly, an unfortunate promise that I made to Dumbledore and, second, the fact that Narcissa, whilst having her own money, does not control the Malfoy fortune. She gives me a little but it is not enough to sustain the lifestyle I would like. My dear stepson, I found, was unlikely to provide me with funds, even after he gains control of his money. Therefore, I have had to continue working here for the time being."
"And you're not going to provide me with the antidote to whatever you gave Draco, are you? Or even tell me what it is?"
"Correct. After all the trouble that boy has put me to, it would be a rather foolish idea to help revive him."
A rage that was fuelled by despair bubbled up inside Harry. Snape backed away as Harry approached but he looked wary rather than afraid.
"You have tried to murder Draco twice," Harry said, every instinct in him urging him to reach out and throttle the man in front of him.
"I would quibble with the word 'murder,' since the boy is not dead, but in essence you are right."
A sharply indrawn breath behind him made Harry turn, grateful for the distraction from the temptation to rip Snape apart with his bare hands.
Hermione stood in the doorway, a tall pale woman beside her. Even if Harry had not seen her before, the resemblance to Draco was too noticeable to ignore. He realised then, as an unconscious thought, that Draco's features owed far more to his mother than his father. There was a likeness to Sirius in both mother and son; clearly the Black genes were tenacious.
Harry could feel Snape shrinking back behind him at the look in Narcissa's eyes. In that moment, she was truly a mother dragon.
Before Harry could process what was happening, she had swept past him, curled up her hand into a delicate fist and punched Snape squarely on the nose. She was obviously stronger than she looked; he fell back, stumbling and only just keeping his feet under him.
"How dare you?" she hissed. "You told me Draco had gone to France."
"And you believed him?" Harry asked incredulously.
Narcissa's jaw tightened.
"I had no reason to disbelieve my husband; I did not know he had murderous intentions. Draco is prone to sudden whims and taking off with no word of warning is quite in character."
Hermione, ever the voice of reason, intervened.
"The most urgent concern right now is getting the antidote."
All eyes turned back to Snape.
"He says he won't tell me what it is," Harry said.
Narcissa smiled at her husband coldly.
"I think he will, won't you, Severus?"
There was a moment's silence as the two stared at each other. Snape's face paled. He turned slowly away to the cupboard.
"It's in here," he said hoarsely.
He took a vial of dark green liquid off the topmost shelf and held it out. Harry took it and looked at it doubtfully.
"How do we know this is the right one?" he asked.
Snape glanced nervously at Narcissa, whose eyes were still fixed on him like a basilisk.
"It's the right one," he replied.
Harry looked at Narcissa. After a moment, she nodded briefly, her eyes never leaving Snape.
"You two run along and make sure my son is all right," she said softly. "I will summon the Aurors and wait with Severus until they arrive. I believe the two of us need to have a little chat, anyway."
Hermione hesitated only a moment before following Harry. Whatever happened to Snape at Narcissa's hands, it would be no more than he deserved.
Draco came back to awareness slowly and with not much enthusiasm. His head ached, he still felt sick and a general feeling of grogginess hung over him. He cracked his eyes open a fraction and immediately closed them again.
"Oh, I'm dying," he moaned.
There was a familiar chuckle from close by and Draco was suddenly aware that he was resting snugly in someone's arms.
"No you're not," Harry's voice said. "You've finished dying and you're getting better now."
Draco opened his eyes and squinted up at Harry.
"What happened?"
Harry's smile vanished.
"Snape happened," he said grimly.
Draco frowned.
"How...? The last I remember is eating the chocolates you sent... Oh. You didn't send them, did you?"
"No." Harry smiled. "I'm not in the habit of giving poisoned chocolates to the person I'm in love with."
"But how did he find out...?" Draco blinked. "What did you say?"
"You gave me a hell of a shock, Draco," Harry replied softly, drawing him closer. "I nearly lost you. I couldn't have... oh, Draco."
Harry leaned his forehead against Draco's and stroked his hair. Draco closed his eyes and leaned into Harry's hand.
So Harry did love him, even if he hadn't sent the chocolates. He shifted slightly, angling his head to the side and offering up his lips.
"What I don't understand," said Weasley-née-Granger's annoyingly cheerful voice, "is why the potion didn't work faster. Draco had managed to eat half the box before it had any effect."
Harry drew back slightly with a fond chuckle.
"You've never seen Draco eating chocolate," he said.
Draco blushed.
"Are you feeling all right, now?" she went on.
Draco considered this and found that he was. The grogginess was passing and now that Harry... Well, life seemed pretty good now.
He nodded and she got to her feet.
"I'll be getting back to Hogwarts, then, to make sure Narcissa hasn't had any trouble with Snape."
"Mother?" Draco asked. "Was she there?"
"Yes. From the way she was looking at him, I'd be surprised if there's much left to hand over to the Aurors. If she asks, I'll tell her to wait till tomorrow before coming over, shall I?"
She was looking at them with a Dumbledore-esque twinkle in her eyes and Draco nodded briefly before burying his face in Harry's neck.
He heard her walk out of the room and then the crack of apparition and, suddenly feeling shy, he lifted his head slowly. Everything he was considering saying flew out of his mind as soon as he met Harry's eyes but maybe it wasn't necessary to speak at all.
There was tenderness and love and a million possibilities of happiness in Harry's face and Draco hoped his own face was answering every question Harry might have. Harry stroked his cheek and kissed the end of his nose.
Draco relaxed further into his embrace and sighed happily.
"Harry," he murmured.
"Draco," Harry replied, leaning down to kiss him.
Their lips met and Draco revelled in the sensations and the fact that this was Harry who was kissing him, Harry in whose arms he lay.
A sudden thought occurred to him and he broke the kiss.
"You are going to marry me, aren't you?" he asked.
Harry laughed.
"If you've no objections."
Draco smiled and shook his head. They gazed at one another for a few moments, not needing further contact but savouring each other's presence. Then Draco bit his lip and swallowed.
"Harry," he whispered.
"Yes, love?"
"I feel sick."
"Draco Malfoy, what have you got to say for yourself? You just disappear and I don't hear anything from you for years and years and then you think you can turn up again with no explanation?"
Pansy was just getting into full flow and Draco desperately tried to cut off her rant.
"Come and meet my fiancé," he blurted. She stared at him.
"Fiancé?"
"Yes, I'm engaged." He blushed slightly. "And I promise I will tell you everything that's happened."
She sniffed.
"Well, all right. I suppose I ought to make sure he's respectable."
Draco winced slightly.
"Um, perhaps I should tell you who he is before you meet him... In any case, it hasn't really been years since I disappeared."
"It might as well have been."
"Well, I wrote to you. I wrote several letters."
"I never received any."
"Ah, well, that might be because I didn't actually send them."
"Of course. Perish the thought that I should receive a letter that was written to me."
Draco scowled.
"Well you're not reading any of these letters. I just meant that I didn't completely forget you."
"You're even more peculiar than I remember," Pansy said haughtily. "So who is this mysterious character you're engaged to?"
"You won't fly off the handle, will you, Pans...?"
When they finally arrived at the cottage, Pansy looked around with a scandalised expression before turning to Draco.
"Darling," she said earnestly, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea; no wonder you didn't get in touch."
"What do you mean?" Draco asked in puzzlement.
"I didn't realise you'd been living in a hovel," Pansy explained, her eyes wide with horror. "It must have been simply ghastly for you."
Draco glanced anxiously at Harry, hoping he wasn't too offended, but Harry merely looked amused.
"It's not a hovel, Pansy," Draco said firmly. "It's a..." He fumbled for the right word. "Bijou residence," he finished triumphantly.
Pansy gave him a look that was half disbelief and half pity and patted him on the head.
"Of course, darling."
Narcissa insisted on organising the wedding, of course. It was not to be a lavish affair, since she was currently in mourning for her late husband who, sadly, had not survived to greet the Aurors that came to arrest him. No one was particularly sorry that Snape would not get to stand trial and his funeral was brief and businesslike, rather than sorrowful. In some areas, it seemed, Narcissa had as much motherly feeling as anyone else, even if she wasn't usually the maternal sort. Attempted murder, especially aimed at her son, was something she felt strongly about.
Draco managed to extort an astronomical amount of money from his trustees and paid for new outfits for the entire Weasley family. It was, he explained to Pansy, less a matter of charity or goodwill and more that he didn't want Harry's family to look as if they had just crawled out of a hedge.
The wedding night, eagerly anticipated by both grooms, who had been strictly separated before the wedding by Pansy and Hermione, was spent at the cottage. Harry and Draco both preferred the idea of making their home at the cottage rather than the Manor but, when they were in Narcissa's presence, the matter was still officially undecided.
Harry apparated them away only half an hour after the ceremony finished. Narcissa would probably be angry that they were missing most of the reception but, right now, there were more pressing needs than satisfying social conventions.
They stumbled into what had been Harry's bedroom and was now their bedroom, joined at the lips. Harry was tugging at the fastenings on Draco's robes and made a noise of displeasure when Draco pulled away.
"I'll just be a moment," Draco said breathily as he disappeared into the bathroom.
Harry busied himself with removing his own robes and the stiff boots that he had been persuaded to wear. He was standing in black trousers and white shirt when a slight sound made him look up.
Draco stood in the doorway, looking up at Harry coyly. A short, white satin robe was wrapped around his body, his legs from mid thigh downwards bare. Harry stared, all thought of his own clothing gone.
"Draco," he croaked, holding his hand out.
Draco came to him readily, sliding into his arms as if he had been doing it all his life. Harry raised a hand and lightly touched the satin that covered Draco's shoulder.
"I thought you might like to unwrap me," Draco said with a wicked smile.
"You're certainly the best present I've ever received."
Harry slowly pulled the wrap open and let it slide from Draco's shoulders into a shiny heap on the floor. He ran his hands over the smooth chest and down Draco's arms, linking their fingers together.
"I must be the luckiest man in the world," he murmured as he leaned forward to nuzzle Draco's neck. "All this, just for me."
Draco squeaked as he was suddenly swept up and deposited gently on the bed. Harry leaned over him and rubbed their noses together.
"Don't go anywhere," he said, pulling back to attack his clothes.
Draco propped himself up to watch.
"Don't worry, I won't be moving from here. Not unless you take too long getting undressed."
Finally naked, Harry stalked towards Draco and crawled onto the bed to hover over him.
"You don't have to wait any longer."
Draco found himself suddenly short of breath.
"Good. I find myself with an urgent need for my husband."
"I think I can satisfy you there."
Harry lowered his body and Draco gasped at the sudden overwhelming contact. He lifted his head, desperately searching for Harry's mouth. Harry kissed him with undiluted passion, their tongues writhing like a pair of mating snakes.
Eventually, Harry broke away and kissed down Draco's neck.
"I think kissing you is the second best thing in the world."
One of his hands crept down to stroke Draco's side.
"Only the second best?" Draco managed.
Harry raised his head and stared heatedly down at his husband.
"I can think of something better."
Holding Draco's gaze, he slithered down the bed, pausing to kiss the pale stomach, until he was lying between Draco's legs. There was a strangled whimper as Harry took just the head of Draco's cock into his mouth and sucked.
The whimper turned into gasps and moans and Draco writhed frantically as Harry turned his attention fully towards his task. He didn't even notice at first that Harry was pressing suddenly slick fingers against his arse, only realising what a skilled multi-tasker Harry was when those fingers nudged his prostate and he nearly catapulted them both off the bed.
Harry let Draco's cock slide out of his mouth and grinned.
"You like that?" he asked as he rubbed at the gland again.
Draco wailed helplessly and clutched at the sheets.
"Harry," he begged. "Harry, Harry, Harry."
Harry kissed his inner thigh, his light stubble brushing the skin and making Draco wriggle, and shifted, sitting up and pulling Draco's hips onto his lap. He positioned himself and pushed slowly into Draco, his own breath coming raggedly now.
When he was as deep as he could go, he leaned down and kissed Draco tenderly. Draco made a small noise of contentment and wrapped his legs around Harry's waist.
"Move," he whispered.
Harry was happy to obey.
Their movements gradually grew faster, more frantic and less co-ordinated as their coupling continued. They exchanged wet sloppy kisses that were barely kisses at all, sucking and drinking each other's breath in.
Harry reached a hand down to wrap around Draco's cock and the legs around his waist tightened like a vice; the heat around him did likewise and Draco came, his back bending and arching. Harry was awe-struck by the sight of Draco's ecstasy and he quickly followed his husband over the edge.
They lay in a sweaty crumpled heap for several minutes until Harry regretfully pulled out. He started to shift to one side but Draco's arms wound around his neck and pulled him back down on top of him.
"Am I squashing you?" Harry asked from where his face was pressed into Draco's neck.
"Mmm," Draco replied sleepily. "I like it."
There was a long pause.
"A cleaning spell would be good, though."
Harry obliged and they subsided into half-slumber, Draco's fingers combing lazily through Harry's hair.
"I'm glad you came here," Harry said eventually.
"Me too," Draco said. "And now you can love me and worship me and pamper me forever."
"And make you chocolate cake," Harry finished, kissing the spot just under Draco's ear.
In spite of the post-coital lethargy that hung over him, Draco's lips stretched in a delighted smile.
"Oh, you know the way to my heart," he said.
FIN