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bottom_dracoTitle: Age Shall Not Weary Him, Nor The Years Condemn
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fantasyfruitbat
Prompt: #078 bywestkitsune, 4th down
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, brief Blaise/Draco, Neville/Pansy, Percy/Hermione, unrequited Snape/Hermione, mentioned Ron/Lavender, Ron/Parvati and Ron/Padma
Summary: Ten years ago, Draco Malfoy disappeared, aged sixteen. Now, the War is finally over and he has reappeared, still aged sixteen...
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Attempted non-con (brief and not very explicit), consenting sex with a 17-year-old (in case anyone's got a problem with that!)
Word Count: ~14,200
Author's Notes: Dear Prompter, I don't know if this is anything close to what you were imagining, but I hope you like it! The story is set post-Hogwarts, is AU as of HBP and starts when Harry is shortly to turn 26. The title is a slight mis-quote from Laurence Binyon's For The Fallen. A million thanks to G for an excellent and very last-minute beta job.
Harry Potter, defeater of Voldemort for the final time, stood in the middle of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, surrounded by his friends and enemies, some wounded, a few dead, some miraculously unscathed. He looked down at the remains of what had been Tom Riddle, feeling suddenly empty. Albus Dumbledore, now bent over and limping from age and the strains of war, hobbled over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Someone began to weep, and was quickly joined by others. No one could really believe that, after nearly nine years of open warfare, it was over.
Across the hall, Severus Snape caught Narcissa Malfoy's gaze. There was a strange look on her face: fierce, pleading and hopeful. He gave a brief nod, she nodded back, and then he turned sharply and strode quickly out of the Hall.
That evening, Narcissa paced around the drawing room at Malfoy Manor, starting at every little sound. She turned to look at the door for the hundredth time and bit her lip when it remained firmly closed. When would he come? Surely it could not have taken him this long, unless something had gone wrong.
She took several deep breaths to calm herself, and it seemed to work for the moment. She walked slowly to the sofa and sat down, gazing out of the window with a blank expression on her face. One might have thought she was meditating on what to have for supper.
The door opened, and Narcissa's calm deserted her. She leapt to her feet and flew at the man who entered, clutching at his robes.
"Where is he?" she demanded wildly. "Why isn't he here with you?"
Snape gently detached her hands and led her back to the sofa.
"Sit down, Cissa," he said quietly. "We have a small problem –"
"A problem?" she cut in, her voice rising in panic.
"And it will do no one, least of all him, any good if we do not approach this calmly and logically," Snape continued firmly.
Narcissa forced herself to relax.
"What is this problem?" she asked, when she had regained control.
Snape told her.
"I think we will need help," he concluded, "and, much as it pains me to admit it, I believe Potter will be our best chance. He has the raw power to break almost any spell, and that insufferable luck of his usually carries him through."
Narcissa nodded, her face pale.
"Then I will ask him," she said. "I think he will respond better to me."
"Good idea," Snape replied. He hesitated, and then added nonchalantly, "It might be a good idea to have Miss Granger along. Potter may have the power, but there is no one to touch her when it comes to brains and ingenuity."
Narcissa stared at him coldly, raising an eyebrow. Anyone else would have quailed under that look; Snape merely looked a little uncomfortable.
"Severus," she said, in a slow and clear voice. "If you must indulge your lust for that young woman, would you kindly do it at some other time? My son's life may be hanging in the balance; this is not the moment for drooling over someone, who, if I may remind you, is already in a relationship."
Snape stood up quickly, clearing his throat.
"We should get started," he said, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve and ignoring Narcissa's words. "The sooner this business is solved, the better."
Narcissa rose too, and walked briskly to the door.
"I will find Potter," she said, her hand on the door handle. "Will you – would it be possible to bring Draco back here?"
Snape nodded.
"I will do that."
Harry sipped his drink, his mind far away from the pub in which he sat. Most of the people around him were in a celebratory mood, but Harry was feeling slightly melancholy. He supposed it was a normal reaction to everything that had happened, but he was still feeling rather irritated with all the people who thought it was time for a party. At least no one in his little group had suggested a party; they all understood too well how he felt, having fought through the War with him.
The arrival of Pansy made him look up and smile briefly; he liked Pansy, and her dogged pursuit of Neville was a source of constant amusement. Now, however, the sight of her made him think of Draco Malfoy. No one knew what had become of Draco; he had disappeared a few weeks after he had got home at the end of Fifth Year. At first, everyone assumed he had joined Voldemort, but the arrival at Grimmauld Place of Narcissa Malfoy, determined to do everything she could to help Harry, had got rid of that suggestion. Pansy had joined them shortly afterwards, tearfully vowing to avenge Draco's presumed demise. All anyone could say was that Draco had disappeared one day and never been seen since. It was assumed he had been killed, although this was never stated explicitly, but there was no sign of his body and no hint as to what might have happened.
It was a great pity, Harry thought. Things had never seemed quite right after Draco's disappearance, and, even if he hadn't been willing to join them, Harry wished that he could have at least survived the War.
"Narcissa!" Pansy called, jolting Harry out of his reverie.
He looked up to see Narcissa Malfoy making her way towards their table. She smiled at Pansy and then at him. Her face was tired but determined; she looked as if she had had a shock recently.
"Might I have a word, Mr Potter?" she asked.
"Of course," Harry replied, working his way out from behind the table. "And it's Harry, please."
Narcissa moved a little way away and Harry followed. So did Pansy.
"Are you all right, Narcissa?" she asked in concern.
Narcissa put a hand on her arm.
"Oh, Pansy," she sighed. "You loved Draco very much, didn't you?"
Pansy paled at this.
"You know we were like brother and sister," she replied. "What... Has anything... come to light?"
Narcissa turned to Harry.
"I need your help," she said quietly. "Draco needs your help."
Pansy gasped and Harry's eyes widened.
"Draco? Is he –" He glanced around and lowered his voice. "Do you know where Draco is?"
Narcissa smiled sadly.
"I'm afraid I wasn't entirely truthful about Draco's disappearance," she said. "But I couldn't risk anyone finding out that he was still alive. I don't even know where he was; only Severus does. I begged him to help me keep Draco safe from the Dark Lord; he assured me he would do so, and he has. Now, however, he tells me there has been... an unforeseen problem, and we believe that you may be able to help."
"Of course I'll help," Harry said instantly.
Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief.
"Would you come to the Manor now?" she asked.
"Certainly," Harry replied. "You must be frantic with worry; of course I'll come at once."
"May I come too?" Pansy asked pleadingly.
Narcissa smiled at her.
"You are never unwelcome at the Manor, Pansy. I'm sure you will be the first person Draco asks for."
Harry and Pansy exchanged a look.
"Is he not awake, then?" Harry asked.
"I'll explain when we get there," Narcissa said with a sigh. "Or perhaps Severus can do it; he knows more about it than I do."
As soon as they arrived in the main hall of Malfoy Manor, they were met by an excited house-elf.
"Mister Snape is bringing Master Draco home," it squeaked, its ears flapping wildly. "Mister Snape is taking Master Draco up to Master Draco's room. Nippy is overjoyed at seeing Master Draco again!"
"Thank you, Nippy," Narcissa said. "I shall call you if I need you for anything; try to calm down now."
She led them up the stairs and along several long passages, finally stopping at a door that had been painted a pale green. She hesitated for a moment, as if gathering her courage, and then opened the door.
The pale figure that lay on the bed seemed to dominate the room. Draco was thin and looked small and vulnerable, but the three people who entered could not take their eyes from him. After a few moments, a throat was cleared and Harry looked up to find Snape and Hermione standing by the bed. Narcissa gave Snape an odd look when she saw Hermione, and Harry thought Snape looked rather guilty.
"He looks so young," Pansy breathed.
"No wonder," Snape replied. "He is now ten years younger than you."
Narcissa sighed heavily and sat down on the side of the bed as if her legs were not strong enough to hold her. She ran her fingers lightly through Draco's fair hair.
"I think you had better explain everything, Severus," she said faintly. "I did not tell Harry and Pansy very much; indeed, I know very little about it myself."
Snape nodded and moved forward, looking down at Draco's still form.
"Very well," he said. "I shall begin at the beginning. Narcissa came to me shortly after the end of your Fifth Year and begged me to protect Draco. The Dark Lord wanted to punish him for Lucius' mistakes and had come up with some wild and impossible tasks for him to accomplish, on pain of death, his own and his parents'. He was also to take the Mark that summer. Naturally, I agreed to help her; I have been an unofficial godfather to Draco all his life. I should add that Draco knew nothing of our plans. I believe he was beginning to realise just what sort of a creature the Dark Lord was, and the sort of things he would be expected to do, but he had not, to my knowledge, considered defecting. Draco's problem has always been an inability to acknowledge his own mistakes, something he inherited from his father; I doubt he would have even considered defecting until it was too late.
"I realised that he must be removed entirely from the scene until the Dark Lord had been defeated once and for all. Since Draco was unlikely to agree to this, I devised a spell that would keep him alive but unconscious until the Dark Lord's death. He remained at the age of sixteen because of the stasis spell, which I placed on him to enable him to survive without sustenance. I doubt it would be possible, or desirable, to enable someone to age naturally while unconscious under a stasis spell. His reawakening was tied to the moment of the Dark Lord's death; I had placed him in a secret location of my own, and he would not have been able to leave without my assistance, so I felt it was safe for him to wake naturally and at that moment."
Snape paused and frowned down at the floor.
"That is where the problem is. Draco should have awoken on the Dark Lord's death, but he did not. I have tried all the spells I judged it safe to perform, without success. He still lives and, from what I can gather, is in perfect health, but he refuses to wake."
He fell silent, and no one spoke for a while.
"And what do you think I can do?" Harry asked eventually.
"Heaven only knows, Potter," Snape replied acerbically. "Hopefully, Miss Granger will be able to help us in devising a solution to our problem; your job will be to provide powerful magic, as and when required." He smirked slightly. "A Muggle battery, if you like."
Harry scowled at him.
"What was the spell you used, Professor?" Hermione asked.
"Please call me Severus," Snape said, in a voice that was no doubt supposed to be enticing and sexy.
"Severus, then," Hermione corrected.
Snape smiled and reeled off a flood of Latin, of which Harry could catch nothing. He exchanged a glance with Pansy and they shrugged simultaneously. Hermione obviously understood it, because she nodded, a thoughtful frown on her face.
"That ought to have worked exactly as you intended it, Prof – Severus. I can't see that there was anything wrong with the original spell."
Snape looked as if he wanted to start preening himself. Harry caught his eye, glanced towards Hermione and back again, and smirked. Snape deflated abruptly and his face returned to its customary scowl.
"Perhaps," Hermione continued, moving over to the bed. "Something about the situation has triggered another bit of magic. A sort of Sleeping Beauty spell, maybe. It might not be anything anyone has done, just a natural magical reaction to a set of circumstances." She grimaced. "I'm not explaining myself very clearly."
"I understand exactly what you mean," Snape said instantly. "And I think it is a very pertinent thought. Entirely possible."
"You think so?" Hermione asked, somewhat surprised. "I don't know why it might happen like that; I just couldn't think of anything else."
"Perhaps Snape messed up the spell when he cast it," Harry put in, causing Snape's face to darken still further.
Pansy whacked him on the arm.
"Don't say that," she scolded. "That's the last thing we want to have happened."
"I don't think it's likely, Harry," Hermione said. "I'm sure Pro – Severus would have made absolutely sure he knew what he was doing before he cast the spell."
"Thank you," Snape murmured, gazing at the back of Hermione's head as she leaned over Draco.
"Well," Hermione continued, "if it is some sort of Sleeping Beauty thing, however it was caused, it should be fairly easy to find out."
She bent down and kissed Draco on the forehead. Nothing happened. She turned to Narcissa, who was holding Draco's hand.
"Perhaps you would try?" Hermione suggested. "It might work better coming from his mother."
Narcissa tenderly brushed Draco's hair back off his face and kissed his cheek. Again, there was no response.
"Maybe if it was someone unrelated to him, who also loves him," Hermione mused.
She turned around and Snape stepped back hurriedly. Pansy moved to the bed.
"I'll do it," she said.
Pansy's kiss made no difference either. Hermione turned to Snape and smiled at him.
"I assure you," he said quickly. "I bear no feelings of that sort for Draco. I am entirely straight."
"You are very fond of him," Hermione pointed out, "or you wouldn't have gone to such an effort to protect him, and the fact that you cast the spell may make a difference. Severus," she added encouragingly.
Snape stepped reluctantly up to the bed and bent over Draco, giving him a quick peck. Harry bit his lip to stop himself from laughing; Snape really did look like a giant crow, pecking at a distasteful meal.
When Snape's contribution had no effect, Hermione sighed.
"Back to the drawing board, then," she said. She looked around. "Is there any parchment here? It might help if we jot ideas down."
Narcissa stirred and rose from the bed, putting Draco's hand gently back on his chest.
"There will be some in Draco's desk," she said.
She moved to the other end of the room. Hermione and Pansy followed her and Snape followed Hermione. They formed a little huddle around Hermione at the desk and began to confer in low voices, as if speaking any louder would disturb Draco's slumber.
Harry stayed by the bed, feeling rather put out. Having been brought there to help, he seemed to be the only one not contributing. Not that he particularly wanted to kiss Draco, he reminded himself hastily.
He sat down next to Draco and took the opportunity to study him. Asleep, he was surprisingly beautiful. He had always been attractive, especially since his features had softened out of their former pointiness, but his face had too often been marred by scowl, sneer or smirk to be really good-looking.
Ever since realising that he preferred men, Harry had been attracted to slender blonds. Now that he was able to really look at him, Harry could admit that Draco was the ultimate in slender blonds. He let his imagination run wild for the moment, conjuring up fantasies of what Draco Malfoy, who had been so fiery towards Harry at school, would be like in bed.
Harry felt his mouth pulled into a smile; if all that passion was directed towards Harry in a different way... He let his eyes run down Draco's body, admiring the lean elegant lines. Physically, he was exactly what Harry liked in a man; it was only his attitude that was off-putting. Of course, now that the War was over, with his father dead and his mother firmly on the side of the Light, Draco might be a bit different. He might even be friendly towards Harry; certainly Pansy had known him as a warm and generous person.
Harry leaned over Draco, staring down at his face.
"I do rather wish you were mine," he whispered. "You are the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen. I'd like to have you and hold you and look after you. I'd take good care of you." He grinned as a thought struck him. "And you could take good care of me and my needs." He raised a hand and let his finger trail down Draco's nose. "Beautiful elf."
Unable to help himself, he bent his head down further and covered Draco's lips with his own. They were warm and soft and utterly delicious; ruefully, Harry thought that, now he had tasted them, one kiss would never be enough.
Having lost himself utterly in the feel of Draco's lips, Harry eventually pulled back feeling slightly dazed, and watched with a sense of unreality as Draco's eyelids fluttered and slowly opened.
"Potter, you are the most irresponsible oaf I have ever had the misfortune to meet," Snape said for the hundredth time.
"I didn't know what would happen," Harry protested, also for the hundredth time. "How was I supposed to know he would wake up for me when he hadn't for any of you?"
"It should be obvious, even to you, Potter," Snape replied caustically, "that the rules of the universe are constantly bent, or perhaps I should say warped, where you are concerned."
Harry huffed in annoyance and, not being able to think of a suitable reply which wouldn't sound childish, strode around to the other side of the bed.
Draco was currently sitting up against a mountain of pillows, squashed between his mother and Pansy, both of whom were petting him constantly. He still wore the frightened look he had acquired when he had first awoken, although it had faded slightly.
"I still can't believe ten years have gone past without my noticing," he muttered.
"Oh, believe it, darling," Pansy replied cheerfully. "And, if I were you, I would thank Merlin for it. You've missed some pretty awful years; I would be jolly thankful to find I had been out of it."
"It must have been Harry's connection to Voldemort which did it," Hermione said to no one in particular. "The spell sensed the connection and transferred itself to Harry when Voldemort was killed."
"That makes sense," Snape said, a glare still levelled at Harry. "But how do you explain Draco's reawakening? Surely we would have had to kill Potter to break the spell."
Harry narrowed his eyes at Snape, who smirked.
"I can't explain it," Hermione said reluctantly, "except to say that it's just one of those things that seem to happen around Harry." She smiled at him to take the sting out of her words. "It might help, of course, if we knew the exact words Harry said just before he kissed Draco."
Draco and Harry both went bright red, Draco at the reminder that Potter had kissed him, and Harry at the thought of revealing exactly what he had said.
"Um," he replied eloquently. "Is it really necessary for you to know?"
"It is if we want to know what the situation is now," Hermione said implacably.
Harry shuffled his feet and looked around longingly for a means of escape. When none appeared, he looked up pleadingly at Hermione.
"Come on, Harry," she said. "It can't be that bad if it got Draco to wake up."
"Um," Harry said again, staring at the floor, his face still red. "I sort of, um... well, might have said that... that I wished he was mine and... that I wanted to take care of him."
"Aww," Pansy cooed. "That's so –"
"Potter," Snape sneered. "You are the most –"
"Oh," Narcissa gasped. "That's –"
"Harry," Hermione said dryly, her tone cutting the others off instantly. "You really do have the knack of putting your foot in it."
"Why?" Harry asked in a small voice. "What have I done?"
Hermione glanced at Draco, who was staring at Harry, his cheeks pink and his breath coming quickly.
"Well," she said slowly. "We will need to check it properly, because there's a chance I might be wrong, but you may have just entered into a bond with Draco."
"A bond?" Harry repeated, feeling his heart simultaneously sink and leap up into his throat.
"I had thought," Hermione replied, "that it would have been along the lines of "I wish you would wake up soon, Draco", which would have accounted for the fact that he has woken up. However, there was a bond of sorts between you anyway because of the spell's shift, so it is highly likely that your statement, coupled with your magical strength, resulted in exactly what you wished for." She shrugged. "As I said, we'll have to check it out in order to be sure."
"When you say a bond," Harry persisted, "what precisely do you mean? What does it mean in practice?"
"It means you and Draco are effectively married," Pansy put in helpfully. "Congratulations, darling," she added warmly, and kissed Draco's cheek.
Three days later, Draco was escorted by Narcissa to Grimmauld Place, his new home. The bond had been confirmed by staff at St Mungo's, and the Ministry, having decided to get involved, had decreed that, being underage and only grudgingly free from suspicion of Death Eater activity, Draco should live with his new spouse. Draco had not taken it well, and was now behaving as if he was going to his execution.
"It'll be fine, darling," Narcissa said again. "Harry is a really lovely person, once you get to know him, and I'm sure you'll like Grimmauld Place. Besides, we can see each other as often as we want, and I know Pansy will be in and out of the house all the time; she and Harry are close friends these days."
Draco was silent, his expression still one that Narcissa suspected he was modelling on Marie Antoinette's when going to the scaffold.
Harry was in the drawing room to meet them as they emerged from the Floo. He was very obviously nervous and this had resulted in an over-eagerness to please.
"You can choose whichever bedroom you like," he said, running his fingers through his hair and making it stick up more than ever. "And if you want anything at all, just tell Kreacher to get it for you. I'm sure he'll be delighted that you're here; he still barely tolerates me." He laughed tensely. "Kreacher! Oh, there you are. Kreacher, this is Narcissa's son Draco. He's coming to live here, so I want you to treat him exactly as you would me – no, I don't mean that. Just do everything he says. Is that clear?"
Kreacher stared up at him malevolently.
"Master had already made himself clear this morning," he said coldly. "Kreacher is not stupid. Kreacher understands very well." He turned to Draco. "Kreacher will be very happy, very happy indeed, to serve the good Master Draco. Kreacher will be doing anything Master Draco is wanting."
Draco smiled and nodded to Kreacher, biting his lip.
"Thank you, Kreacher," he said.
"Thank you, Master Draco," Kreacher replied in a syrupy voice, bowing low.
He turned and shot a nasty look at Harry, before disappearing with a pop.
"I'll leave you now to get settled in, darling," Narcissa said.
Draco turned a terrified look on her and she patted his cheek, before smiling at Harry.
"Goodbye Harry, I'll see you soon. Look after my little boy, won't you?"
"Of course I will," Harry promised. "And you know you're welcome to come over whenever you want."
She smiled again and turned back to Draco.
"Make sure you behave yourself, my little chick," she said, pulling him into a warm embrace and kissing his cheek. "Don't give Harry too much trouble."
She pulled back and stroked his hair fondly.
"Mummy," he whispered, blinking back tears. "Please don't go."
"Come on, darling, be a big brave dragon. I'll come over in a couple of days."
She kissed him again and then stepped into the Floo and vanished.
There was an awkward silence once she had gone. Harry glanced at Draco, who appeared to be on the verge of tears, and looked away again.
"Are you hungry?" Harry asked at last. "Do you want anything to eat?"
Draco shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the Floo.
"I'm not hungry, thank you."
"Would you like to choose a room, then?"
Draco turned and gave Harry a small smile that was more of a grimace, and nodded.
It was rather a relief to Harry when Draco opted to remain in his room for the rest of the afternoon, supposedly to unpack and settle in. He didn't know how to act around Draco. This was not the confident sexy man of Harry's fantasies; it was not even the arrogant boy of ten years earlier at Hogwarts.
Harry slumped onto a sofa in the drawing room and wondered what he had been thinking when he had made that foolish impulsive wish. Draco was very attractive, but it was now painfully obvious that he was still a boy of sixteen. Even if Draco had been willing to indulge in sex or a relationship with Harry, it was out of the question. A man of nearly twenty-six did not prey on innocent, or not-so-innocent, sixteen-year-olds.
Just then, the Floo activated and Hermione stepped out.
"Hello, Harry," she said. "Is Draco here yet?"
"Yes," Harry replied morosely.
"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting down on the sofa beside him.
He groaned.
"Oh, Hermione, this is all such a mess. He hates me, he hates being here, he misses his mother already, and he's shut himself in his room, presumably to protect himself from me. Admittedly, it is a relief not to have to make myself look any more of a fool than I have already, but that's the only positive."
Rather to his annoyance, Hermione laughed.
"Well, you can't really blame him for not being terribly happy with the situation," she said. "The last he knew, he had just finished Fifth Year and was being given horrible tasks by Voldemort. Now, he finds himself in a world that's ten years older, but he's still sixteen. And, as if that weren't enough, he's been magically bound to his school rival. It's enough to squash anyone's spirits."
"True," Harry sighed. "I suppose I should be trying to make things as easy as possible for him and not worrying about myself."
"Don’t neglect yourself completely. I actually came over to have a serious talk with you, but, seeing you now, I don't think it's necessary."
Harry frowned.
"What were you going to say?" he asked.
Hermione looked at him in silence for a moment.
"I wanted to remind you that Draco is only sixteen," she said. "After the wish you made the other day, I thought you might have got your hopes up regarding a relationship."
"I know," Harry replied. "I was thinking that just before you got here." He sighed. "If he was still the same age as us, I wouldn't hesitate in coming on to him, but he's not."
"He won't be sixteen forever, Harry," Hermione said encouragingly. "Just concentrate on being a friend for him now, and you never know what might happen in a few years."
"I thought you were trying to persuade me to leave him alone," Harry commented with a grim smile.
"I don't think now is the right time for a relationship, for either of you. Apart from anything else, the War has only just ended, and you need to recover from it. You could become good friends, though, and later on, it might develop into more. Just don't put pressure on either of you."
"I'll try not to," Harry sighed.
Draco emerged from his room late the next morning and crept down the stairs towards the sound of voices. Opening the door of the dining room, he found Pansy, Granger and Potter seated around the table.
"Draco!" Pansy cried. "We wondered when you would come out of your den. Come and join us; we're having brunch and a gossip."
Draco slid into a chair next to her, eyeing Potter and Granger warily.
"You've got a lot to catch up on, darling," Pansy went on blithely, ignoring his unease. She poured out some tea for him. "There was the War, of course, but that's really rather boring, and, when it's not boring, it's depressing." She was obviously trying to amuse him. "We could begin with relationships; everyone has been chopping and changing like mad, you know. It's quite scandalous."
In spite of himself, Draco was interested, not just in what Pansy had to say, but in the new dynamics around him. Potter and Granger were watching Pansy with the comfortably amused expressions that came from long experience of her.
"Let's start with Hermione, here," Pansy went on. Granger looked slightly alarmed and rather embarrassed. "Now, everyone knew she'd end up with a Weasley, but no one guessed which Weasley, did they?"
Draco looked at Granger, who had gone pink.
"Really, Pansy –" she began.
"Perfect Percy, no less," Pansy announced with glee. "Or perhaps I should say Prefect Percy, every school swot's dream." She turned to Granger. "I bet his foreplay consists of dressing up as Head Boy and giving you detention."
Draco snorted into his cup.
"And what about you?" Granger retorted. She looked at Draco. "Pansy has been chasing Neville for years. The only reason she hasn't caught him yet is because he can run faster than she can."
Pansy's cheeks went a delicate shade of pink.
"Then, there's dear Ronald," she countered. "That really is a scandal waiting to happen. He's making a complete fool of himself with Lavender Brown and both Patil girls. He thinks none of them know about the others, but I'm afraid the only one in the dark in that relationship is him."
Draco's eyes widened. Weasley was quite stupid enough to get himself into a situation like that but Draco would never have credited him with the balls to do it.
"And, of course," Pansy continued, "dear Harry, who hasn't found his true love yet, though it's not for want of trying. Is it, Harry, love?"
She smiled sweetly at him. Draco was aghast.
"You've slept with Potter?" he asked in a shocked voice.
"So has Hermione," Pansy replied. "It's the sort of thing that happens in wartime; everyone starts bed-hopping. I think, though, that the experience of the two of us, one after the other, was what finally turned him gay."
Draco sat back in his chair, reeling from all the revelations, and trying not to feel jealous that Pansy had had Potter. He reminded himself that Potter was bound to him now, and then felt embarrassed, and told himself that it didn't matter who Potter slept with.
"Everything seems very different," he said eventually.
"It is," Pansy said kindly. "But it's different in a good way. I think you'll enjoy yourself once you've got used to it."
Living with Potter was, Draco found, surprisingly tolerable. At first, he had to keep reminding himself not to be rude and provocative, which was a challenge, especially with Kreacher egging him on.
A few days after his arrival at Grimmauld Place, Draco took Pansy to his room and got her to tell him everything she could, or was willing to, about the War. Crabbe and Goyle had both followed their fathers into Voldemort's service, Crabbe dying in a skirmish a few months before the final battle, and Goyle now languishing in Azkaban. His own father was also dead, succumbing to a fever shortly after being released from prison by his master. Some of what Pansy told him gave Draco nightmares for several nights afterwards; he couldn't imagine how she had managed to live through it. He kept to his room for the next few days, mulling over everything that had happened.
One evening, Potter knocked on his door and asked rather shyly if he would like to come down and have a drink with him. Surprised, Draco agreed. It turned out it was Potter's birthday – his twenty-sixth – and the small gathering to celebrate, which Draco had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to hear, had just left.
Potter poured out a small Firewhiskey for them both and handed Draco's over as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Draco felt absurdly proud; he remembered seeing his father drink Firewhiskey with his friends and wondering when he would be considered old enough to join in. Draco took a sip, and promptly choked as it caught the back of his throat. Potter was immediately solicitous.
"Are you all right?" he asked quickly. "Sorry; I should have asked first. Would you like something else?"
Draco shook his head, feeling like an idiot.
"No, it's fine," he croaked.
Potter sat back, and a moment of awkwardness grew. Finally, Potter looked up at him rather sheepishly and said,
"Don't tell Narcissa I've been giving you Firewhiskey. She'd string me up by my balls."
Draco laughed, and the tension eased. Then, Potter started looking nervous again.
Merlin, Draco thought, what is his problem? Is it his mission in life to make things awkward and difficult?
Potter eventually pulled a rather crumpled package from under a cushion next to him and handed to Draco.
"Um," he said. "I, well, I thought, seeing as how you missed your birthday this year, you might like something now."
Draco took the package in astonishment.
"You didn't have to – I mean – I didn't get you –"
"It's fine; I didn't expect you to get me anything," Potter said hurriedly. He grinned. "Hermione says I have a present fixation; I'm always buying things for people. I just wanted to get you something."
Draco felt warm and happy for the first time since he had come to Grimmauld Place.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
He undid the wrapping, fully expecting it to be some gauche Gryffindor trinket, but still appreciating the thought, and gasped. It was a beautiful grey cashmere jumper, with a tiny green dragon embroidered on the breast. He stroked the soft wool, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.
"Do you like it?" Potter asked, twisting his hands nervously.
"I love it," Draco managed, looking up and smiling at Potter.
Potter grinned in relief.
"I'm glad. I asked Pansy what she thought and she said you'd like it, but I wasn't sure."
"I really love it," Draco repeated. "Thank you, Potter."
"You know," Potter said, staring down at his hands, "you could call me Harry, if you wanted."
Draco glanced at the beautiful garment on his lap and felt his confidence start to return. He gave Potter a wide smile, and heard him catch his breath at the sight; Draco knew he could be really stunning when he chose.
"I'll think about it," he said coyly.
That summer was an eye-opener for Draco; he'd never realised that Gryffindors could actually be fun to be with. Potter, of course, had already proved himself thoroughly acceptable with his gift. Draco took great pleasure in calling him by his first name just when Potter wasn't expecting it; he looked so adorably confused and gratified that Draco was finding himself increasingly smitten.
Granger, once Draco got past the infuriating fact that, by now, she really did know more than him, was surprisingly easy to get on with. Percy Weasley was a bore, however, and Draco didn't know what Granger saw in him; presumably, it was something to do with red hair.
Neither could he see Longbottom's attraction for Pansy, and when he questioned her about it, she went misty-eyed and simply said,
"Oh, just look at him. He's wonderful."
The real surprise, however, was Ronald Weasley. He had grown up enough to remain unruffled by Draco's occasional snide remarks, but remained young enough to still be fun. He was also a brilliant chess player, and it was over this that they bonded.
"Glad to see little Ferret Face has come back to us," had been his initial greeting to Draco, slapping him hard on the back. "How are you? Fancy a game of chess?"
They had started playing straight away, which was fortunate, because Draco was sufficiently impressed by Ron's ability not to want to goad him too much afterwards.
Before Draco knew where he was, September was looming, and, with it, the prospect of a return to Hogwarts. Earlier in the summer, he had been firm in his desire to go back for his final two years, mainly in order to get away from Potter. Now, however, Draco was reluctant to have to leave Grimmauld Place.
He was seen off at King's Cross by a small crowd: his mother and Pansy, Potter, Granger and Weasley (Ronald). He even thought he saw Kreacher peeping adoringly out at him from behind a pillar. Draco boarded the train somewhat self-consciously, aware of the stares he was getting from the other students. He wasn't sure if they knew who he was or if it was because of his farewell party. He leaned out of the window and waved.
"Take care of yourself, darling," Narcissa called.
"Have fun!" shouted Pansy.
"Make sure you study hard," Granger said, rather predictably.
"Don't get into trouble!" Weasley called. "Keep that ferrety nose out of mischief!"
Potter stepped up close to the train just as it started moving.
"Write to me," he said.
"I will," Draco said, smiling. "Make sure you miss me."
Potter laughed.
"I do already," he called, as the train pulled away from the platform and gathered speed.
Draco made his way to an empty compartment and sat down, glaring at everyone who looked as if they might enter. He felt as he had done when on his way to Hogwarts for the first time: nervous, excited, anxious to do well. Then, he had been more concerned about keeping his father happy. Now, of all the people he might want to impress, the most important one was Harry.
A selection of owls passing between London and Hogwarts:
13th September
Dear Pansy,
School's not too bad so far, although it's not the same without you here. Uncle Sev is being very solicitous and keeps asking if I'm all right. If I were really wicked and unscrupulous I might take advantage of his concern. Naturally, I'm not wicked or unscrupulous and I wouldn't dream of doing anything of the sort. Stop smirking, Pans - I've really been very good.
Most of the girls in Slytherin are brainless tarts, and the same can be said about some of the boys. They're frightful cowards as well, and don't know half the hexes we did when we were half their age (or my age, or our age, or something). I have no time for any of them – but then, I suppose I've been spoiled by knowing you, darling.
By the way, you'll never guess who came to see me last weekend – Blaise! I gather he's been in Italy during the War, and has only just returned. He's certainly grown up nicely – and I don't remember him being quite so charming! He's promised to come back next weekend so we can have dinner together in Hogsmeade and really get to know one another properly again. I keep forgetting he hasn't seen me for ten years; it didn't seem like it for him at all. He kept telling me that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" really applies in his case, and that he's thought about me a lot. He does know how to flatter a boy!
Lots of love,
Draco
13th September
Dear Harry,
Dumbledore really does look old now, doesn't he? It was rather scary seeing him so changed – the old coot was one of those annoying constants that never change (rather like someone else I know!) No need to worry about how I'm doing – everyone is keeping an eye on me and Uncle Severus is being most considerate.
My classmates are rather a boring lot, and have no sense of adventure whatsoever. Some of the other Slytherins glare at the Gryffindors, but when I suggested a couple of harmless little pranks, they looked like I'd suggested we murder them in cold blood! The other houses are pretty tame as well – no one to really get one's teeth into (in a manner of speaking).
Anyway, it's all pretty much as it always has been, minus the companionship of Pans, etc., and the entertainment provided by you and your minions.
Write back soon – you don't want me to die of boredom before Christmas, do you?
Draco
14th September
Dear Draco,
Merlin, you do know how to pick them, don't you? I suppose Blaise didn't tell you that he scarpered as fast as he could, as soon as the War started getting hot. Or that he's been working his way around the continent from bed to bed. Darling, please don't have anything to do with him – he is the biggest whore in Europe, and he doesn't care who he hurts. He got the German Minister of Magic's wife and daughter pregnant and then went off with some young Señor from Milan. Promise me you'll tell him where to go if he comes sniffing around you again. I don't want to have to come up there myself and embarrass you in front of everyone – you know how protective I can be!
Much love,
Pans
15th September
Dear Draco,
Yes, poor old Dumbledore. The War really took its toll on him. Everyone thought he would retire from being Headmaster afterwards, but he told me he wanted to spend his last remaining years doing the job he loved without having to worry about psychopaths trying to take over the world.
Bit of news from home for you: Ron's finally got himself caught. Lavender is pregnant and demanding that he marry her, so of course, he had to confess everything. I think he was rather put out at finding that it wasn't such a big secret after all. Mrs Weasley was not pleased, however; she was the only other one who didn't know. Poor Ron, he's looking thoroughly persecuted at the moment and, of course, everyone is saying "I told you so". He and Lavender should get on fine, though; she'll be good at managing him.
You are awful, you know. You're not supposed to be encouraging inter-House wars. This is meant to be a time of reconciliation and harmony and all that – you could try helping. Then again, maybe not; I suppose it would be a bit too much to ask you to be friendly to small children and old ladies and Hufflepuffs.
And don't be melodramatic; you're not going to die of boredom. If I know you, everyone else will be having nervous breakdowns because of all the excitement you cause.
Harry
16th September
Dear Pansy,
I think I can look after myself, thank you, so there's no need to rush up here to protect me. Blaise has told me about the rumours – and assured me that most of them are wildly exaggerated. I must say, it's not like you to believe everything the papers say; I suppose you're becoming gullible in your old age! I assure you, darling, I'll be absolutely fine. It's not like Blaise is a stranger, after all – we did know him pretty well at school, and people don't change that much. Besides, he's providing the only bit of excitement up here and, Merlin knows, I need it.
Love ever,
Draco
3rd December
Dear Draco,
Just thought I ought to let you know about Christmas. Everyone is spending Christmas Day with their respective families, so you and I are going over to the Manor to see your mother and Pansy. Then (because Pansy keeps saying that Boxing Day is depressing), we're having a big get-together at Grimmauld Place the next day. If there is anyone at Hogwarts that you want to see over Christmas (unlikely, I know, judging from what you've said!) feel free to invite them.
How's everything going with you? Still boring? Surely there must be one or two decent people there. All is relatively quiet here and much the same as ever. You remember I told you about the saga of Ron and the Engagement Ring? I think he's finally got it right; at least she didn't throw it back at him this time!
It'll be good to see you – we need a bit of livening up!
Harry
Draco frowned as the door to his compartment opened and two very small, very frightened Hufflepuff girls entered. They were holding hands and one of them looked as if she was going to cry.
"Please, sir," said the other in a tiny voice. "May we sit in here? Everywhere else is full."
Draco's frown increased and they both took a step back. He sighed.
"You may sit in here and you will remain unharmed," he said, "on condition only that you remain utterly silent and still. I do not wish to be disturbed in any way. Is that understood?"
Both girls nodded fervently and sat down together at the other end of the compartment. They were utterly silent and still for the entire journey.
After practising his best Snape expression for several minutes, Draco gave himself up to thought. He had been looking forward to the holidays for some time, for several reasons. First, of course, he would be seeing Harry, and he had missed Harry more than he liked to admit. Then, there were Pansy and his mother and all those annoying Gryffindors that he pretended not to like. There was also Blaise.
He had been seeing quite a lot of Blaise and, while Draco wouldn't go so far as to say he wanted a relationship with him, he was certainly enjoying the attention. Blaise would be coming to the Boxing Day party, and Draco was looking forward to sneaking away with him for a bit of private fun. He had told Blaise he wasn't ready for sex, but there were plenty of other things they could do. It had crossed his mind that if Harry ever got around to making a move on Draco, he wanted to be well prepared and not look like an innocent fool. A bit of practice wouldn't go amiss.
It was just Harry waiting for him at King's Cross. The two Hufflepuffs waited for Draco to leave first, staring at him nervously as if he was about to eat them. When he got onto the platform, he saw Harry and waved. Then, turning, he caught sight of the Hufflepuffs behind them and strode over to them.
"Well done," he said kindly. "You obeyed orders very well. Keep on like that and you'll go far."
He left them trembling and walked over to Harry, who raised an eyebrow.
"Terrorising Hufflepuffs, Draco?"
"I did no such thing," Draco retorted. "I was very nice and let them sit in my compartment."
Harry chuckled.
"I bet they loved that. Poor little things." He grabbed Draco's trunk and linked Draco's arm with his own, effectively stifling any further process. Draco enjoyed the walk to the exit.
As it turned out, Christmas Day was rather an afterthought in the preparations for the Boxing Day party. Draco was, however, delighted with Harry's main present to him: a luxurious grey wool cloak with a fur-lined hood, by the same designer as had made his jumper. He began hoping that they had a long winter, so he could show off his new cloak as much as possible.
Draco had thought long and hard about what to get Harry and, in the end, he managed to get hold of a photograph of Harry's parents and have a small matching pair of portraits done, set in a double frame. He had known Harry would like it, but it still gave him a great deal of pleasure to see Harry's reaction.
When the party finally arrived, Blaise persuaded Draco to sneak off early. They would want, he said, to be able to really take their time with each other. His heart pounding with excitement, Draco led Blaise up to his bedroom.
Next
Author:
fantasyfruitbatPrompt: #078 by
westkitsune, 4th downPairing(s): Harry/Draco, brief Blaise/Draco, Neville/Pansy, Percy/Hermione, unrequited Snape/Hermione, mentioned Ron/Lavender, Ron/Parvati and Ron/Padma
Summary: Ten years ago, Draco Malfoy disappeared, aged sixteen. Now, the War is finally over and he has reappeared, still aged sixteen...
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Attempted non-con (brief and not very explicit), consenting sex with a 17-year-old (in case anyone's got a problem with that!)
Word Count: ~14,200
Author's Notes: Dear Prompter, I don't know if this is anything close to what you were imagining, but I hope you like it! The story is set post-Hogwarts, is AU as of HBP and starts when Harry is shortly to turn 26. The title is a slight mis-quote from Laurence Binyon's For The Fallen. A million thanks to G for an excellent and very last-minute beta job.
Harry Potter, defeater of Voldemort for the final time, stood in the middle of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, surrounded by his friends and enemies, some wounded, a few dead, some miraculously unscathed. He looked down at the remains of what had been Tom Riddle, feeling suddenly empty. Albus Dumbledore, now bent over and limping from age and the strains of war, hobbled over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Someone began to weep, and was quickly joined by others. No one could really believe that, after nearly nine years of open warfare, it was over.
Across the hall, Severus Snape caught Narcissa Malfoy's gaze. There was a strange look on her face: fierce, pleading and hopeful. He gave a brief nod, she nodded back, and then he turned sharply and strode quickly out of the Hall.
That evening, Narcissa paced around the drawing room at Malfoy Manor, starting at every little sound. She turned to look at the door for the hundredth time and bit her lip when it remained firmly closed. When would he come? Surely it could not have taken him this long, unless something had gone wrong.
She took several deep breaths to calm herself, and it seemed to work for the moment. She walked slowly to the sofa and sat down, gazing out of the window with a blank expression on her face. One might have thought she was meditating on what to have for supper.
The door opened, and Narcissa's calm deserted her. She leapt to her feet and flew at the man who entered, clutching at his robes.
"Where is he?" she demanded wildly. "Why isn't he here with you?"
Snape gently detached her hands and led her back to the sofa.
"Sit down, Cissa," he said quietly. "We have a small problem –"
"A problem?" she cut in, her voice rising in panic.
"And it will do no one, least of all him, any good if we do not approach this calmly and logically," Snape continued firmly.
Narcissa forced herself to relax.
"What is this problem?" she asked, when she had regained control.
Snape told her.
"I think we will need help," he concluded, "and, much as it pains me to admit it, I believe Potter will be our best chance. He has the raw power to break almost any spell, and that insufferable luck of his usually carries him through."
Narcissa nodded, her face pale.
"Then I will ask him," she said. "I think he will respond better to me."
"Good idea," Snape replied. He hesitated, and then added nonchalantly, "It might be a good idea to have Miss Granger along. Potter may have the power, but there is no one to touch her when it comes to brains and ingenuity."
Narcissa stared at him coldly, raising an eyebrow. Anyone else would have quailed under that look; Snape merely looked a little uncomfortable.
"Severus," she said, in a slow and clear voice. "If you must indulge your lust for that young woman, would you kindly do it at some other time? My son's life may be hanging in the balance; this is not the moment for drooling over someone, who, if I may remind you, is already in a relationship."
Snape stood up quickly, clearing his throat.
"We should get started," he said, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve and ignoring Narcissa's words. "The sooner this business is solved, the better."
Narcissa rose too, and walked briskly to the door.
"I will find Potter," she said, her hand on the door handle. "Will you – would it be possible to bring Draco back here?"
Snape nodded.
"I will do that."
Harry sipped his drink, his mind far away from the pub in which he sat. Most of the people around him were in a celebratory mood, but Harry was feeling slightly melancholy. He supposed it was a normal reaction to everything that had happened, but he was still feeling rather irritated with all the people who thought it was time for a party. At least no one in his little group had suggested a party; they all understood too well how he felt, having fought through the War with him.
The arrival of Pansy made him look up and smile briefly; he liked Pansy, and her dogged pursuit of Neville was a source of constant amusement. Now, however, the sight of her made him think of Draco Malfoy. No one knew what had become of Draco; he had disappeared a few weeks after he had got home at the end of Fifth Year. At first, everyone assumed he had joined Voldemort, but the arrival at Grimmauld Place of Narcissa Malfoy, determined to do everything she could to help Harry, had got rid of that suggestion. Pansy had joined them shortly afterwards, tearfully vowing to avenge Draco's presumed demise. All anyone could say was that Draco had disappeared one day and never been seen since. It was assumed he had been killed, although this was never stated explicitly, but there was no sign of his body and no hint as to what might have happened.
It was a great pity, Harry thought. Things had never seemed quite right after Draco's disappearance, and, even if he hadn't been willing to join them, Harry wished that he could have at least survived the War.
"Narcissa!" Pansy called, jolting Harry out of his reverie.
He looked up to see Narcissa Malfoy making her way towards their table. She smiled at Pansy and then at him. Her face was tired but determined; she looked as if she had had a shock recently.
"Might I have a word, Mr Potter?" she asked.
"Of course," Harry replied, working his way out from behind the table. "And it's Harry, please."
Narcissa moved a little way away and Harry followed. So did Pansy.
"Are you all right, Narcissa?" she asked in concern.
Narcissa put a hand on her arm.
"Oh, Pansy," she sighed. "You loved Draco very much, didn't you?"
Pansy paled at this.
"You know we were like brother and sister," she replied. "What... Has anything... come to light?"
Narcissa turned to Harry.
"I need your help," she said quietly. "Draco needs your help."
Pansy gasped and Harry's eyes widened.
"Draco? Is he –" He glanced around and lowered his voice. "Do you know where Draco is?"
Narcissa smiled sadly.
"I'm afraid I wasn't entirely truthful about Draco's disappearance," she said. "But I couldn't risk anyone finding out that he was still alive. I don't even know where he was; only Severus does. I begged him to help me keep Draco safe from the Dark Lord; he assured me he would do so, and he has. Now, however, he tells me there has been... an unforeseen problem, and we believe that you may be able to help."
"Of course I'll help," Harry said instantly.
Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief.
"Would you come to the Manor now?" she asked.
"Certainly," Harry replied. "You must be frantic with worry; of course I'll come at once."
"May I come too?" Pansy asked pleadingly.
Narcissa smiled at her.
"You are never unwelcome at the Manor, Pansy. I'm sure you will be the first person Draco asks for."
Harry and Pansy exchanged a look.
"Is he not awake, then?" Harry asked.
"I'll explain when we get there," Narcissa said with a sigh. "Or perhaps Severus can do it; he knows more about it than I do."
As soon as they arrived in the main hall of Malfoy Manor, they were met by an excited house-elf.
"Mister Snape is bringing Master Draco home," it squeaked, its ears flapping wildly. "Mister Snape is taking Master Draco up to Master Draco's room. Nippy is overjoyed at seeing Master Draco again!"
"Thank you, Nippy," Narcissa said. "I shall call you if I need you for anything; try to calm down now."
She led them up the stairs and along several long passages, finally stopping at a door that had been painted a pale green. She hesitated for a moment, as if gathering her courage, and then opened the door.
The pale figure that lay on the bed seemed to dominate the room. Draco was thin and looked small and vulnerable, but the three people who entered could not take their eyes from him. After a few moments, a throat was cleared and Harry looked up to find Snape and Hermione standing by the bed. Narcissa gave Snape an odd look when she saw Hermione, and Harry thought Snape looked rather guilty.
"He looks so young," Pansy breathed.
"No wonder," Snape replied. "He is now ten years younger than you."
Narcissa sighed heavily and sat down on the side of the bed as if her legs were not strong enough to hold her. She ran her fingers lightly through Draco's fair hair.
"I think you had better explain everything, Severus," she said faintly. "I did not tell Harry and Pansy very much; indeed, I know very little about it myself."
Snape nodded and moved forward, looking down at Draco's still form.
"Very well," he said. "I shall begin at the beginning. Narcissa came to me shortly after the end of your Fifth Year and begged me to protect Draco. The Dark Lord wanted to punish him for Lucius' mistakes and had come up with some wild and impossible tasks for him to accomplish, on pain of death, his own and his parents'. He was also to take the Mark that summer. Naturally, I agreed to help her; I have been an unofficial godfather to Draco all his life. I should add that Draco knew nothing of our plans. I believe he was beginning to realise just what sort of a creature the Dark Lord was, and the sort of things he would be expected to do, but he had not, to my knowledge, considered defecting. Draco's problem has always been an inability to acknowledge his own mistakes, something he inherited from his father; I doubt he would have even considered defecting until it was too late.
"I realised that he must be removed entirely from the scene until the Dark Lord had been defeated once and for all. Since Draco was unlikely to agree to this, I devised a spell that would keep him alive but unconscious until the Dark Lord's death. He remained at the age of sixteen because of the stasis spell, which I placed on him to enable him to survive without sustenance. I doubt it would be possible, or desirable, to enable someone to age naturally while unconscious under a stasis spell. His reawakening was tied to the moment of the Dark Lord's death; I had placed him in a secret location of my own, and he would not have been able to leave without my assistance, so I felt it was safe for him to wake naturally and at that moment."
Snape paused and frowned down at the floor.
"That is where the problem is. Draco should have awoken on the Dark Lord's death, but he did not. I have tried all the spells I judged it safe to perform, without success. He still lives and, from what I can gather, is in perfect health, but he refuses to wake."
He fell silent, and no one spoke for a while.
"And what do you think I can do?" Harry asked eventually.
"Heaven only knows, Potter," Snape replied acerbically. "Hopefully, Miss Granger will be able to help us in devising a solution to our problem; your job will be to provide powerful magic, as and when required." He smirked slightly. "A Muggle battery, if you like."
Harry scowled at him.
"What was the spell you used, Professor?" Hermione asked.
"Please call me Severus," Snape said, in a voice that was no doubt supposed to be enticing and sexy.
"Severus, then," Hermione corrected.
Snape smiled and reeled off a flood of Latin, of which Harry could catch nothing. He exchanged a glance with Pansy and they shrugged simultaneously. Hermione obviously understood it, because she nodded, a thoughtful frown on her face.
"That ought to have worked exactly as you intended it, Prof – Severus. I can't see that there was anything wrong with the original spell."
Snape looked as if he wanted to start preening himself. Harry caught his eye, glanced towards Hermione and back again, and smirked. Snape deflated abruptly and his face returned to its customary scowl.
"Perhaps," Hermione continued, moving over to the bed. "Something about the situation has triggered another bit of magic. A sort of Sleeping Beauty spell, maybe. It might not be anything anyone has done, just a natural magical reaction to a set of circumstances." She grimaced. "I'm not explaining myself very clearly."
"I understand exactly what you mean," Snape said instantly. "And I think it is a very pertinent thought. Entirely possible."
"You think so?" Hermione asked, somewhat surprised. "I don't know why it might happen like that; I just couldn't think of anything else."
"Perhaps Snape messed up the spell when he cast it," Harry put in, causing Snape's face to darken still further.
Pansy whacked him on the arm.
"Don't say that," she scolded. "That's the last thing we want to have happened."
"I don't think it's likely, Harry," Hermione said. "I'm sure Pro – Severus would have made absolutely sure he knew what he was doing before he cast the spell."
"Thank you," Snape murmured, gazing at the back of Hermione's head as she leaned over Draco.
"Well," Hermione continued, "if it is some sort of Sleeping Beauty thing, however it was caused, it should be fairly easy to find out."
She bent down and kissed Draco on the forehead. Nothing happened. She turned to Narcissa, who was holding Draco's hand.
"Perhaps you would try?" Hermione suggested. "It might work better coming from his mother."
Narcissa tenderly brushed Draco's hair back off his face and kissed his cheek. Again, there was no response.
"Maybe if it was someone unrelated to him, who also loves him," Hermione mused.
She turned around and Snape stepped back hurriedly. Pansy moved to the bed.
"I'll do it," she said.
Pansy's kiss made no difference either. Hermione turned to Snape and smiled at him.
"I assure you," he said quickly. "I bear no feelings of that sort for Draco. I am entirely straight."
"You are very fond of him," Hermione pointed out, "or you wouldn't have gone to such an effort to protect him, and the fact that you cast the spell may make a difference. Severus," she added encouragingly.
Snape stepped reluctantly up to the bed and bent over Draco, giving him a quick peck. Harry bit his lip to stop himself from laughing; Snape really did look like a giant crow, pecking at a distasteful meal.
When Snape's contribution had no effect, Hermione sighed.
"Back to the drawing board, then," she said. She looked around. "Is there any parchment here? It might help if we jot ideas down."
Narcissa stirred and rose from the bed, putting Draco's hand gently back on his chest.
"There will be some in Draco's desk," she said.
She moved to the other end of the room. Hermione and Pansy followed her and Snape followed Hermione. They formed a little huddle around Hermione at the desk and began to confer in low voices, as if speaking any louder would disturb Draco's slumber.
Harry stayed by the bed, feeling rather put out. Having been brought there to help, he seemed to be the only one not contributing. Not that he particularly wanted to kiss Draco, he reminded himself hastily.
He sat down next to Draco and took the opportunity to study him. Asleep, he was surprisingly beautiful. He had always been attractive, especially since his features had softened out of their former pointiness, but his face had too often been marred by scowl, sneer or smirk to be really good-looking.
Ever since realising that he preferred men, Harry had been attracted to slender blonds. Now that he was able to really look at him, Harry could admit that Draco was the ultimate in slender blonds. He let his imagination run wild for the moment, conjuring up fantasies of what Draco Malfoy, who had been so fiery towards Harry at school, would be like in bed.
Harry felt his mouth pulled into a smile; if all that passion was directed towards Harry in a different way... He let his eyes run down Draco's body, admiring the lean elegant lines. Physically, he was exactly what Harry liked in a man; it was only his attitude that was off-putting. Of course, now that the War was over, with his father dead and his mother firmly on the side of the Light, Draco might be a bit different. He might even be friendly towards Harry; certainly Pansy had known him as a warm and generous person.
Harry leaned over Draco, staring down at his face.
"I do rather wish you were mine," he whispered. "You are the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen. I'd like to have you and hold you and look after you. I'd take good care of you." He grinned as a thought struck him. "And you could take good care of me and my needs." He raised a hand and let his finger trail down Draco's nose. "Beautiful elf."
Unable to help himself, he bent his head down further and covered Draco's lips with his own. They were warm and soft and utterly delicious; ruefully, Harry thought that, now he had tasted them, one kiss would never be enough.
Having lost himself utterly in the feel of Draco's lips, Harry eventually pulled back feeling slightly dazed, and watched with a sense of unreality as Draco's eyelids fluttered and slowly opened.
"Potter, you are the most irresponsible oaf I have ever had the misfortune to meet," Snape said for the hundredth time.
"I didn't know what would happen," Harry protested, also for the hundredth time. "How was I supposed to know he would wake up for me when he hadn't for any of you?"
"It should be obvious, even to you, Potter," Snape replied caustically, "that the rules of the universe are constantly bent, or perhaps I should say warped, where you are concerned."
Harry huffed in annoyance and, not being able to think of a suitable reply which wouldn't sound childish, strode around to the other side of the bed.
Draco was currently sitting up against a mountain of pillows, squashed between his mother and Pansy, both of whom were petting him constantly. He still wore the frightened look he had acquired when he had first awoken, although it had faded slightly.
"I still can't believe ten years have gone past without my noticing," he muttered.
"Oh, believe it, darling," Pansy replied cheerfully. "And, if I were you, I would thank Merlin for it. You've missed some pretty awful years; I would be jolly thankful to find I had been out of it."
"It must have been Harry's connection to Voldemort which did it," Hermione said to no one in particular. "The spell sensed the connection and transferred itself to Harry when Voldemort was killed."
"That makes sense," Snape said, a glare still levelled at Harry. "But how do you explain Draco's reawakening? Surely we would have had to kill Potter to break the spell."
Harry narrowed his eyes at Snape, who smirked.
"I can't explain it," Hermione said reluctantly, "except to say that it's just one of those things that seem to happen around Harry." She smiled at him to take the sting out of her words. "It might help, of course, if we knew the exact words Harry said just before he kissed Draco."
Draco and Harry both went bright red, Draco at the reminder that Potter had kissed him, and Harry at the thought of revealing exactly what he had said.
"Um," he replied eloquently. "Is it really necessary for you to know?"
"It is if we want to know what the situation is now," Hermione said implacably.
Harry shuffled his feet and looked around longingly for a means of escape. When none appeared, he looked up pleadingly at Hermione.
"Come on, Harry," she said. "It can't be that bad if it got Draco to wake up."
"Um," Harry said again, staring at the floor, his face still red. "I sort of, um... well, might have said that... that I wished he was mine and... that I wanted to take care of him."
"Aww," Pansy cooed. "That's so –"
"Potter," Snape sneered. "You are the most –"
"Oh," Narcissa gasped. "That's –"
"Harry," Hermione said dryly, her tone cutting the others off instantly. "You really do have the knack of putting your foot in it."
"Why?" Harry asked in a small voice. "What have I done?"
Hermione glanced at Draco, who was staring at Harry, his cheeks pink and his breath coming quickly.
"Well," she said slowly. "We will need to check it properly, because there's a chance I might be wrong, but you may have just entered into a bond with Draco."
"A bond?" Harry repeated, feeling his heart simultaneously sink and leap up into his throat.
"I had thought," Hermione replied, "that it would have been along the lines of "I wish you would wake up soon, Draco", which would have accounted for the fact that he has woken up. However, there was a bond of sorts between you anyway because of the spell's shift, so it is highly likely that your statement, coupled with your magical strength, resulted in exactly what you wished for." She shrugged. "As I said, we'll have to check it out in order to be sure."
"When you say a bond," Harry persisted, "what precisely do you mean? What does it mean in practice?"
"It means you and Draco are effectively married," Pansy put in helpfully. "Congratulations, darling," she added warmly, and kissed Draco's cheek.
Three days later, Draco was escorted by Narcissa to Grimmauld Place, his new home. The bond had been confirmed by staff at St Mungo's, and the Ministry, having decided to get involved, had decreed that, being underage and only grudgingly free from suspicion of Death Eater activity, Draco should live with his new spouse. Draco had not taken it well, and was now behaving as if he was going to his execution.
"It'll be fine, darling," Narcissa said again. "Harry is a really lovely person, once you get to know him, and I'm sure you'll like Grimmauld Place. Besides, we can see each other as often as we want, and I know Pansy will be in and out of the house all the time; she and Harry are close friends these days."
Draco was silent, his expression still one that Narcissa suspected he was modelling on Marie Antoinette's when going to the scaffold.
Harry was in the drawing room to meet them as they emerged from the Floo. He was very obviously nervous and this had resulted in an over-eagerness to please.
"You can choose whichever bedroom you like," he said, running his fingers through his hair and making it stick up more than ever. "And if you want anything at all, just tell Kreacher to get it for you. I'm sure he'll be delighted that you're here; he still barely tolerates me." He laughed tensely. "Kreacher! Oh, there you are. Kreacher, this is Narcissa's son Draco. He's coming to live here, so I want you to treat him exactly as you would me – no, I don't mean that. Just do everything he says. Is that clear?"
Kreacher stared up at him malevolently.
"Master had already made himself clear this morning," he said coldly. "Kreacher is not stupid. Kreacher understands very well." He turned to Draco. "Kreacher will be very happy, very happy indeed, to serve the good Master Draco. Kreacher will be doing anything Master Draco is wanting."
Draco smiled and nodded to Kreacher, biting his lip.
"Thank you, Kreacher," he said.
"Thank you, Master Draco," Kreacher replied in a syrupy voice, bowing low.
He turned and shot a nasty look at Harry, before disappearing with a pop.
"I'll leave you now to get settled in, darling," Narcissa said.
Draco turned a terrified look on her and she patted his cheek, before smiling at Harry.
"Goodbye Harry, I'll see you soon. Look after my little boy, won't you?"
"Of course I will," Harry promised. "And you know you're welcome to come over whenever you want."
She smiled again and turned back to Draco.
"Make sure you behave yourself, my little chick," she said, pulling him into a warm embrace and kissing his cheek. "Don't give Harry too much trouble."
She pulled back and stroked his hair fondly.
"Mummy," he whispered, blinking back tears. "Please don't go."
"Come on, darling, be a big brave dragon. I'll come over in a couple of days."
She kissed him again and then stepped into the Floo and vanished.
There was an awkward silence once she had gone. Harry glanced at Draco, who appeared to be on the verge of tears, and looked away again.
"Are you hungry?" Harry asked at last. "Do you want anything to eat?"
Draco shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the Floo.
"I'm not hungry, thank you."
"Would you like to choose a room, then?"
Draco turned and gave Harry a small smile that was more of a grimace, and nodded.
It was rather a relief to Harry when Draco opted to remain in his room for the rest of the afternoon, supposedly to unpack and settle in. He didn't know how to act around Draco. This was not the confident sexy man of Harry's fantasies; it was not even the arrogant boy of ten years earlier at Hogwarts.
Harry slumped onto a sofa in the drawing room and wondered what he had been thinking when he had made that foolish impulsive wish. Draco was very attractive, but it was now painfully obvious that he was still a boy of sixteen. Even if Draco had been willing to indulge in sex or a relationship with Harry, it was out of the question. A man of nearly twenty-six did not prey on innocent, or not-so-innocent, sixteen-year-olds.
Just then, the Floo activated and Hermione stepped out.
"Hello, Harry," she said. "Is Draco here yet?"
"Yes," Harry replied morosely.
"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting down on the sofa beside him.
He groaned.
"Oh, Hermione, this is all such a mess. He hates me, he hates being here, he misses his mother already, and he's shut himself in his room, presumably to protect himself from me. Admittedly, it is a relief not to have to make myself look any more of a fool than I have already, but that's the only positive."
Rather to his annoyance, Hermione laughed.
"Well, you can't really blame him for not being terribly happy with the situation," she said. "The last he knew, he had just finished Fifth Year and was being given horrible tasks by Voldemort. Now, he finds himself in a world that's ten years older, but he's still sixteen. And, as if that weren't enough, he's been magically bound to his school rival. It's enough to squash anyone's spirits."
"True," Harry sighed. "I suppose I should be trying to make things as easy as possible for him and not worrying about myself."
"Don’t neglect yourself completely. I actually came over to have a serious talk with you, but, seeing you now, I don't think it's necessary."
Harry frowned.
"What were you going to say?" he asked.
Hermione looked at him in silence for a moment.
"I wanted to remind you that Draco is only sixteen," she said. "After the wish you made the other day, I thought you might have got your hopes up regarding a relationship."
"I know," Harry replied. "I was thinking that just before you got here." He sighed. "If he was still the same age as us, I wouldn't hesitate in coming on to him, but he's not."
"He won't be sixteen forever, Harry," Hermione said encouragingly. "Just concentrate on being a friend for him now, and you never know what might happen in a few years."
"I thought you were trying to persuade me to leave him alone," Harry commented with a grim smile.
"I don't think now is the right time for a relationship, for either of you. Apart from anything else, the War has only just ended, and you need to recover from it. You could become good friends, though, and later on, it might develop into more. Just don't put pressure on either of you."
"I'll try not to," Harry sighed.
Draco emerged from his room late the next morning and crept down the stairs towards the sound of voices. Opening the door of the dining room, he found Pansy, Granger and Potter seated around the table.
"Draco!" Pansy cried. "We wondered when you would come out of your den. Come and join us; we're having brunch and a gossip."
Draco slid into a chair next to her, eyeing Potter and Granger warily.
"You've got a lot to catch up on, darling," Pansy went on blithely, ignoring his unease. She poured out some tea for him. "There was the War, of course, but that's really rather boring, and, when it's not boring, it's depressing." She was obviously trying to amuse him. "We could begin with relationships; everyone has been chopping and changing like mad, you know. It's quite scandalous."
In spite of himself, Draco was interested, not just in what Pansy had to say, but in the new dynamics around him. Potter and Granger were watching Pansy with the comfortably amused expressions that came from long experience of her.
"Let's start with Hermione, here," Pansy went on. Granger looked slightly alarmed and rather embarrassed. "Now, everyone knew she'd end up with a Weasley, but no one guessed which Weasley, did they?"
Draco looked at Granger, who had gone pink.
"Really, Pansy –" she began.
"Perfect Percy, no less," Pansy announced with glee. "Or perhaps I should say Prefect Percy, every school swot's dream." She turned to Granger. "I bet his foreplay consists of dressing up as Head Boy and giving you detention."
Draco snorted into his cup.
"And what about you?" Granger retorted. She looked at Draco. "Pansy has been chasing Neville for years. The only reason she hasn't caught him yet is because he can run faster than she can."
Pansy's cheeks went a delicate shade of pink.
"Then, there's dear Ronald," she countered. "That really is a scandal waiting to happen. He's making a complete fool of himself with Lavender Brown and both Patil girls. He thinks none of them know about the others, but I'm afraid the only one in the dark in that relationship is him."
Draco's eyes widened. Weasley was quite stupid enough to get himself into a situation like that but Draco would never have credited him with the balls to do it.
"And, of course," Pansy continued, "dear Harry, who hasn't found his true love yet, though it's not for want of trying. Is it, Harry, love?"
She smiled sweetly at him. Draco was aghast.
"You've slept with Potter?" he asked in a shocked voice.
"So has Hermione," Pansy replied. "It's the sort of thing that happens in wartime; everyone starts bed-hopping. I think, though, that the experience of the two of us, one after the other, was what finally turned him gay."
Draco sat back in his chair, reeling from all the revelations, and trying not to feel jealous that Pansy had had Potter. He reminded himself that Potter was bound to him now, and then felt embarrassed, and told himself that it didn't matter who Potter slept with.
"Everything seems very different," he said eventually.
"It is," Pansy said kindly. "But it's different in a good way. I think you'll enjoy yourself once you've got used to it."
Living with Potter was, Draco found, surprisingly tolerable. At first, he had to keep reminding himself not to be rude and provocative, which was a challenge, especially with Kreacher egging him on.
A few days after his arrival at Grimmauld Place, Draco took Pansy to his room and got her to tell him everything she could, or was willing to, about the War. Crabbe and Goyle had both followed their fathers into Voldemort's service, Crabbe dying in a skirmish a few months before the final battle, and Goyle now languishing in Azkaban. His own father was also dead, succumbing to a fever shortly after being released from prison by his master. Some of what Pansy told him gave Draco nightmares for several nights afterwards; he couldn't imagine how she had managed to live through it. He kept to his room for the next few days, mulling over everything that had happened.
One evening, Potter knocked on his door and asked rather shyly if he would like to come down and have a drink with him. Surprised, Draco agreed. It turned out it was Potter's birthday – his twenty-sixth – and the small gathering to celebrate, which Draco had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to hear, had just left.
Potter poured out a small Firewhiskey for them both and handed Draco's over as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Draco felt absurdly proud; he remembered seeing his father drink Firewhiskey with his friends and wondering when he would be considered old enough to join in. Draco took a sip, and promptly choked as it caught the back of his throat. Potter was immediately solicitous.
"Are you all right?" he asked quickly. "Sorry; I should have asked first. Would you like something else?"
Draco shook his head, feeling like an idiot.
"No, it's fine," he croaked.
Potter sat back, and a moment of awkwardness grew. Finally, Potter looked up at him rather sheepishly and said,
"Don't tell Narcissa I've been giving you Firewhiskey. She'd string me up by my balls."
Draco laughed, and the tension eased. Then, Potter started looking nervous again.
Merlin, Draco thought, what is his problem? Is it his mission in life to make things awkward and difficult?
Potter eventually pulled a rather crumpled package from under a cushion next to him and handed to Draco.
"Um," he said. "I, well, I thought, seeing as how you missed your birthday this year, you might like something now."
Draco took the package in astonishment.
"You didn't have to – I mean – I didn't get you –"
"It's fine; I didn't expect you to get me anything," Potter said hurriedly. He grinned. "Hermione says I have a present fixation; I'm always buying things for people. I just wanted to get you something."
Draco felt warm and happy for the first time since he had come to Grimmauld Place.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
He undid the wrapping, fully expecting it to be some gauche Gryffindor trinket, but still appreciating the thought, and gasped. It was a beautiful grey cashmere jumper, with a tiny green dragon embroidered on the breast. He stroked the soft wool, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.
"Do you like it?" Potter asked, twisting his hands nervously.
"I love it," Draco managed, looking up and smiling at Potter.
Potter grinned in relief.
"I'm glad. I asked Pansy what she thought and she said you'd like it, but I wasn't sure."
"I really love it," Draco repeated. "Thank you, Potter."
"You know," Potter said, staring down at his hands, "you could call me Harry, if you wanted."
Draco glanced at the beautiful garment on his lap and felt his confidence start to return. He gave Potter a wide smile, and heard him catch his breath at the sight; Draco knew he could be really stunning when he chose.
"I'll think about it," he said coyly.
That summer was an eye-opener for Draco; he'd never realised that Gryffindors could actually be fun to be with. Potter, of course, had already proved himself thoroughly acceptable with his gift. Draco took great pleasure in calling him by his first name just when Potter wasn't expecting it; he looked so adorably confused and gratified that Draco was finding himself increasingly smitten.
Granger, once Draco got past the infuriating fact that, by now, she really did know more than him, was surprisingly easy to get on with. Percy Weasley was a bore, however, and Draco didn't know what Granger saw in him; presumably, it was something to do with red hair.
Neither could he see Longbottom's attraction for Pansy, and when he questioned her about it, she went misty-eyed and simply said,
"Oh, just look at him. He's wonderful."
The real surprise, however, was Ronald Weasley. He had grown up enough to remain unruffled by Draco's occasional snide remarks, but remained young enough to still be fun. He was also a brilliant chess player, and it was over this that they bonded.
"Glad to see little Ferret Face has come back to us," had been his initial greeting to Draco, slapping him hard on the back. "How are you? Fancy a game of chess?"
They had started playing straight away, which was fortunate, because Draco was sufficiently impressed by Ron's ability not to want to goad him too much afterwards.
Before Draco knew where he was, September was looming, and, with it, the prospect of a return to Hogwarts. Earlier in the summer, he had been firm in his desire to go back for his final two years, mainly in order to get away from Potter. Now, however, Draco was reluctant to have to leave Grimmauld Place.
He was seen off at King's Cross by a small crowd: his mother and Pansy, Potter, Granger and Weasley (Ronald). He even thought he saw Kreacher peeping adoringly out at him from behind a pillar. Draco boarded the train somewhat self-consciously, aware of the stares he was getting from the other students. He wasn't sure if they knew who he was or if it was because of his farewell party. He leaned out of the window and waved.
"Take care of yourself, darling," Narcissa called.
"Have fun!" shouted Pansy.
"Make sure you study hard," Granger said, rather predictably.
"Don't get into trouble!" Weasley called. "Keep that ferrety nose out of mischief!"
Potter stepped up close to the train just as it started moving.
"Write to me," he said.
"I will," Draco said, smiling. "Make sure you miss me."
Potter laughed.
"I do already," he called, as the train pulled away from the platform and gathered speed.
Draco made his way to an empty compartment and sat down, glaring at everyone who looked as if they might enter. He felt as he had done when on his way to Hogwarts for the first time: nervous, excited, anxious to do well. Then, he had been more concerned about keeping his father happy. Now, of all the people he might want to impress, the most important one was Harry.
A selection of owls passing between London and Hogwarts:
13th September
Dear Pansy,
School's not too bad so far, although it's not the same without you here. Uncle Sev is being very solicitous and keeps asking if I'm all right. If I were really wicked and unscrupulous I might take advantage of his concern. Naturally, I'm not wicked or unscrupulous and I wouldn't dream of doing anything of the sort. Stop smirking, Pans - I've really been very good.
Most of the girls in Slytherin are brainless tarts, and the same can be said about some of the boys. They're frightful cowards as well, and don't know half the hexes we did when we were half their age (or my age, or our age, or something). I have no time for any of them – but then, I suppose I've been spoiled by knowing you, darling.
By the way, you'll never guess who came to see me last weekend – Blaise! I gather he's been in Italy during the War, and has only just returned. He's certainly grown up nicely – and I don't remember him being quite so charming! He's promised to come back next weekend so we can have dinner together in Hogsmeade and really get to know one another properly again. I keep forgetting he hasn't seen me for ten years; it didn't seem like it for him at all. He kept telling me that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" really applies in his case, and that he's thought about me a lot. He does know how to flatter a boy!
Lots of love,
Draco
13th September
Dear Harry,
Dumbledore really does look old now, doesn't he? It was rather scary seeing him so changed – the old coot was one of those annoying constants that never change (rather like someone else I know!) No need to worry about how I'm doing – everyone is keeping an eye on me and Uncle Severus is being most considerate.
My classmates are rather a boring lot, and have no sense of adventure whatsoever. Some of the other Slytherins glare at the Gryffindors, but when I suggested a couple of harmless little pranks, they looked like I'd suggested we murder them in cold blood! The other houses are pretty tame as well – no one to really get one's teeth into (in a manner of speaking).
Anyway, it's all pretty much as it always has been, minus the companionship of Pans, etc., and the entertainment provided by you and your minions.
Write back soon – you don't want me to die of boredom before Christmas, do you?
Draco
14th September
Dear Draco,
Merlin, you do know how to pick them, don't you? I suppose Blaise didn't tell you that he scarpered as fast as he could, as soon as the War started getting hot. Or that he's been working his way around the continent from bed to bed. Darling, please don't have anything to do with him – he is the biggest whore in Europe, and he doesn't care who he hurts. He got the German Minister of Magic's wife and daughter pregnant and then went off with some young Señor from Milan. Promise me you'll tell him where to go if he comes sniffing around you again. I don't want to have to come up there myself and embarrass you in front of everyone – you know how protective I can be!
Much love,
Pans
15th September
Dear Draco,
Yes, poor old Dumbledore. The War really took its toll on him. Everyone thought he would retire from being Headmaster afterwards, but he told me he wanted to spend his last remaining years doing the job he loved without having to worry about psychopaths trying to take over the world.
Bit of news from home for you: Ron's finally got himself caught. Lavender is pregnant and demanding that he marry her, so of course, he had to confess everything. I think he was rather put out at finding that it wasn't such a big secret after all. Mrs Weasley was not pleased, however; she was the only other one who didn't know. Poor Ron, he's looking thoroughly persecuted at the moment and, of course, everyone is saying "I told you so". He and Lavender should get on fine, though; she'll be good at managing him.
You are awful, you know. You're not supposed to be encouraging inter-House wars. This is meant to be a time of reconciliation and harmony and all that – you could try helping. Then again, maybe not; I suppose it would be a bit too much to ask you to be friendly to small children and old ladies and Hufflepuffs.
And don't be melodramatic; you're not going to die of boredom. If I know you, everyone else will be having nervous breakdowns because of all the excitement you cause.
Harry
16th September
Dear Pansy,
I think I can look after myself, thank you, so there's no need to rush up here to protect me. Blaise has told me about the rumours – and assured me that most of them are wildly exaggerated. I must say, it's not like you to believe everything the papers say; I suppose you're becoming gullible in your old age! I assure you, darling, I'll be absolutely fine. It's not like Blaise is a stranger, after all – we did know him pretty well at school, and people don't change that much. Besides, he's providing the only bit of excitement up here and, Merlin knows, I need it.
Love ever,
Draco
3rd December
Dear Draco,
Just thought I ought to let you know about Christmas. Everyone is spending Christmas Day with their respective families, so you and I are going over to the Manor to see your mother and Pansy. Then (because Pansy keeps saying that Boxing Day is depressing), we're having a big get-together at Grimmauld Place the next day. If there is anyone at Hogwarts that you want to see over Christmas (unlikely, I know, judging from what you've said!) feel free to invite them.
How's everything going with you? Still boring? Surely there must be one or two decent people there. All is relatively quiet here and much the same as ever. You remember I told you about the saga of Ron and the Engagement Ring? I think he's finally got it right; at least she didn't throw it back at him this time!
It'll be good to see you – we need a bit of livening up!
Harry
Draco frowned as the door to his compartment opened and two very small, very frightened Hufflepuff girls entered. They were holding hands and one of them looked as if she was going to cry.
"Please, sir," said the other in a tiny voice. "May we sit in here? Everywhere else is full."
Draco's frown increased and they both took a step back. He sighed.
"You may sit in here and you will remain unharmed," he said, "on condition only that you remain utterly silent and still. I do not wish to be disturbed in any way. Is that understood?"
Both girls nodded fervently and sat down together at the other end of the compartment. They were utterly silent and still for the entire journey.
After practising his best Snape expression for several minutes, Draco gave himself up to thought. He had been looking forward to the holidays for some time, for several reasons. First, of course, he would be seeing Harry, and he had missed Harry more than he liked to admit. Then, there were Pansy and his mother and all those annoying Gryffindors that he pretended not to like. There was also Blaise.
He had been seeing quite a lot of Blaise and, while Draco wouldn't go so far as to say he wanted a relationship with him, he was certainly enjoying the attention. Blaise would be coming to the Boxing Day party, and Draco was looking forward to sneaking away with him for a bit of private fun. He had told Blaise he wasn't ready for sex, but there were plenty of other things they could do. It had crossed his mind that if Harry ever got around to making a move on Draco, he wanted to be well prepared and not look like an innocent fool. A bit of practice wouldn't go amiss.
It was just Harry waiting for him at King's Cross. The two Hufflepuffs waited for Draco to leave first, staring at him nervously as if he was about to eat them. When he got onto the platform, he saw Harry and waved. Then, turning, he caught sight of the Hufflepuffs behind them and strode over to them.
"Well done," he said kindly. "You obeyed orders very well. Keep on like that and you'll go far."
He left them trembling and walked over to Harry, who raised an eyebrow.
"Terrorising Hufflepuffs, Draco?"
"I did no such thing," Draco retorted. "I was very nice and let them sit in my compartment."
Harry chuckled.
"I bet they loved that. Poor little things." He grabbed Draco's trunk and linked Draco's arm with his own, effectively stifling any further process. Draco enjoyed the walk to the exit.
As it turned out, Christmas Day was rather an afterthought in the preparations for the Boxing Day party. Draco was, however, delighted with Harry's main present to him: a luxurious grey wool cloak with a fur-lined hood, by the same designer as had made his jumper. He began hoping that they had a long winter, so he could show off his new cloak as much as possible.
Draco had thought long and hard about what to get Harry and, in the end, he managed to get hold of a photograph of Harry's parents and have a small matching pair of portraits done, set in a double frame. He had known Harry would like it, but it still gave him a great deal of pleasure to see Harry's reaction.
When the party finally arrived, Blaise persuaded Draco to sneak off early. They would want, he said, to be able to really take their time with each other. His heart pounding with excitement, Draco led Blaise up to his bedroom.
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Date: 2010-12-24 09:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-24 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-24 09:58 pm (UTC)