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sesheta66Title: No Home for the Holidays - part 6
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 3900
Pairing/Characters: Harry, Draco, others (eventual H/D)
Summary: Christmas was fun, but they both couldn't wait to get back to school.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Challenges: Written for the following fourth week of Christmas prompts:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
awdt Christmas Quickies: #22 - under the mistletoe; #23 - two candy canes in the shape of a heart; #24 - milk, cookies, carrots and water; #25 - Christmas crackers; #26 - the aftermath; #27 - the returns counter; #28 - after Christmas sales.
dracoharry100 Christmas Challenge: Yule; New Year's Eve.
slythindor100 Special Holiday Challenge: #22 - cookies and milk; #23 - author's choice (I choose a kiss under the mistletoe); #24 - presents; #25 - Christmas morning; #26 - bed with lots of pillows; #27 - bare-chested blonde angel; #28 - hot tub w/candles & wine. See pictures here.
harrylovesdraco: #12 - 'LOVE' in the snow on a platform/plaque. See picture here.
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adventdrabbles on IJ: #19 - kittens and mittens; #23 - winter blizzard; #24 - candy canes; #25 - joy to the world.
********
Click here to start at the beginning.
No Home for the Holidays - Part 6
Harry was the first to wake the next morning, jolted from a delicious dream in which he and Malfoy … oh, God. He willed his arousal down - Filch and Pince, Filch and Pince naked, Filch and Pince having sex. That did it, though his stomach was a bit shaky with those images flashing before his eyes.
He quietly made his way downstairs to face the aftermath. He recalled what a disaster it had been the prior evening - presents and the remains of wrapping paper and Christmas crackers strewn all over the place - when Mrs Weasley had said she wanted to get to bed and that they should all do the same. Entering the living room, Harry realised that it had all been a ploy to get them out of her way; the place was cleaner than it had been when he'd arrived on Christmas morning.
He eyed a pile Mrs Weasley had created for the returns counter. Sure enough, there were a few duplicate items, along with a body-sized cushion covered in kittens and mittens that Ginny had cringed at. Harry wondered if Molly would ever see her daughter as a grown woman. Yes, she was the youngest, but she was seventeen, and even Harry had to admit Molly was a bit much sometimes. He'd watched Ginny's face turn a dangerous shade of red, and she looked like she was about to explode. Ron, ever the tactful one, had burst out laughing, asking if his mother thought Ginny was still ten. Ginny's face had registered shock, then relief as her other brothers came to her rescue and Molly graciously took it aside, promising to take Ginny to the after Christmas sales for something else.
Harry had stayed out of the discussion, as had Mr Weasley. They had exchanged a look, then escaped to the kitchen. They'd had an interesting discussion about Muggle traditions, and how children leave cookies and milk for Santa, and carrots and water for his reindeer. Mr Weasley had just asked Harry to explain the 'North Pole and elf business' when Mrs Weasley had called them back.
Feeling a bit peckish, Harry went to the kitchen to make some tea and raid the leftovers. He saw a sign on the cookie jar. Touch these and Yule be sorry. Harry groaned, but decided not to risk whatever trap George might have set.
As he reached into the cupboard for a tea bag, he saw that Ginny was outside by herself. Though he'd been careful to avoid being alone with her the day before, he couldn't help but be drawn to her now. She looked miserable as she drew something in the snow with a stick. Setting the tea aside to steep, he put on his cloak and went out to join her.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey yourself."
"Aren't you cold out here?"
She rolled her eyes at him. "Warming charm."
"Ah." He never had mastered that one. "I've just put some tea on, if you'd like a cup."
She smiled wanly at him. "That would be nice."
He looked at what she had been drawing, and saw the word LOVE in the snow. No sooner had he noticed it than she'd wiped it away with a wave of her wand.
"Neville asked me out, you know," she said suddenly. She had straightened up and jutted her chin out defiantly, as though challenging Harry to disagree.
Surprisingly - or perhaps not so surprisingly - the chest monster that had roared to life in sixth year whenever he had imagined Ginny with someone else, was silent.
"Neville's a great guy," Harry offered. He wanted Ginny to be happy, and he knew that wasn't going to happen with him.
He watched her register his words. She inhaled deeply, pressing her lips together in a hard line. "Yes, he is." Then she led the way back into the house.
~*~*~
Draco exited the ensuite and looked at the bed, covered with a mess of pillows that reminded him of his restless night. A sudden image of Potter in that bed, waiting for him, wanting Draco as much as he wanted Potter, did nothing to help him relax. It had been exactly those thoughts that had prevented Draco from falling asleep in the first place.
Then, once he finally had nodded off, he'd had an interesting dream. He'd started out walking alone through a blizzard, and found an old abandoned cottage in a clearing in the woods. He'd lifted his hand to knock, and the door had opened. Draco had followed a familiar voice that called from another room, and when he'd entered there had been a hot tub, complete with candles and wine.
Unfortunately, just when things were getting good - somehow he'd ended up naked with an equally naked body pressed against his back, hands possessively on his hips, and a husky voice suggesting they climb into the tub - Draco had woken up. Irritated and very aroused. Though he'd never seen the other man's face, he just knew it was Potter. He was so screwed. Or, well … not, as the case may be. Unfortunately.
He dried himself off, got dressed, then made his way down to breakfast.
~*~*~
Harry had arrived back at school mid-afternoon, after convincing everyone that yes, in fact, he was fine at Hogwarts without them; he'd see them all soon enough. He wanted to pick up a few things in Hogsmeade, and he also wanted to visit Godric's Hollow - something he didn't bother telling them. He'd thought about going on Christmas Eve, but given what happened the year before, he decided to go afterwards instead. And he didn't want Ron and Hermione joining him.
Harry was also hoping, though they hadn't talked about it, that Malfoy was going to ring in the new year at the castle. Harry very much wanted to start the new year off right. And he couldn't think of a better way than to spend it with Malfoy. If someone had told him a year ago that Harry would feel this way, he'd have sent them to St Mungo's for a psychological assessment. As it was, Harry hadn't looked forward to New Year's Eve so much in a long time. Or ever, really.
Exhausted from his day at the Burrow and a somewhat restless night full of wonderful but distracting dreams, Harry made his way to Gryffindor for a shower and some shut-eye. And maybe some time alone to think. Or, preferably, not think.
He didn't see Malfoy until dinner that night. And when Harry saw him, he knew it hadn't just been the wand that had him thinking of Malfoy most of the time he'd been away. Nor was that the reason Malfoy was starring in his dreams. Good Lord, but the man was gorgeous. When he caught Harry's eye and smiled, Harry knew he was a goner.
~*~*~
Draco made his way to the Great Hall, hoping Potter was there. He hadn't the energy to do anything when he'd first returned from Pansy's, and even though his instinct was to see Potter right away, he thought perhaps he should spend some time alone. Give himself time to think. For all he knew, Potter had been convinced to stay another night anyway.
Brushing aside the irritation that flared up at the thought of Potter spending another night in close contact with the weaselette - which did nothing to clear Draco's mind of things - he made his way to his dorm and got some much-needed rest before dinner.
When he walked into the Great Hall, Potter was there, as always, with a smile to greet him. Merlin, he was a sight for sore eyes. Draco knew he had it bad when he'd been gone less than two days from Potter's company, and the moment he saw that smile, he relaxed. He hadn't even realised he'd been tense.
"You're back in one piece, I see," Draco said as he took a seat and filled his plate.
"A somewhat larger piece," Potter joked, patting himself on the belly. "Molly is relentless about her guests eating. She still thinks I'm that scrawny little kid she met years ago."
Draco gave Potter a once-over. "Not scrawny any more."
Potter blushed slightly. He really needed to stop doing that.
They ate their meal in relative silence, and remained after everyone else had left.
"So how was your time with Pansy?" Potter asked. "Did she try to get you to propose?"
Draco snorted. "Hardly." He recalled the offer she had made. "But she did proposition me."
Potter's eyes flashed for a moment.
"Oh, relax your prudish Gryffindor self," Draco teased. "Honestly, it's not like I'd take her up on the offer."
"Oh?"
"Or any other girl, for that matter," Draco hastened to add. Might as well put it out there. It's not like it was a secret or anything, but he didn't know if anyone outside Slytherin knew. Besides, even if Potter wasn't interested in Draco that way - he had just broken up with the she-weasel, so he was clearly interested in girls - Draco wanted to see his reaction. See if he had a problem with the idea.
"I bet she wasn't pleased about that," he said with a grin. Hmm. No problem, it seems.
"No, she wasn't." That was an understatement. "But she's fine with it now."
Potter snorted. "Sure she is. That's why she propositioned you."
"And I suppose the weaselette is over you?"
He shrugged. "Well, she did mention that Neville had asked her out."
"Longbottom?"
"Mm hmm."
"He's got balls, going after the Chosen One's girl."
"She's not my girl any more." Potter scowled at him. "And don't call me that."
"Are you sure she didn't just tell you that to make you jealous?" Draco asked. He'd heard rumours that she'd done just that in sixth year, and it had worked. He wondered if it was going to work again.
"I think she told me in order to see my reaction."
Not as clueless as he seems. Interesting. "And?"
"And I told her that Neville's a great guy."
Oh. Good to know. Draco only just stopped himself from smiling.
~*~*~
Harry really needed to change the subject before he blurted out something stupid. Something like, Actually, Malfoy, I was thinking of you the whole time I was gone. Had dreams about you too. So, now that I know for sure you're gay - which is fabulous, by the way - would you care to have a go? Yeah, that would go over so well.
"Can I ask you something?" That was smooth.
"I believe you just did."
"Very funny. Really, though."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You sound so serious."
"It's rather … personal."
"And our sex lives and past girlfriends aren't personal?"
"Er …" Put that way, Harry did sound ridiculous. "I mean personal in a different way."
"In a non-personal way?"
"Prat."
"Honestly, Potter. Just spit it out."
"I don't want to upset you, but …" Harry hesitated, wondering how best to put it. "I was wondering where your mother is buried."
The light-hearted look on Malfoy's face turned serious, and his body stiffened. Harry felt horrible, but he couldn't take it back now.
"I was thinking about my parents," he explained, "and how I've only been to their grave once. That was last year, when Voldemort sent Nagini after me. I'd like to go back and visit the grave and my old house. Then I thought about your mum and …"
"Oh." Malfoy's posture relaxed a bit, but he looked distressed. "She's at the manor, where all our ancestors are buried."
"Oh." Harry hadn't thought of that. Of course a Malfoy wouldn't be buried in a public cemetary. What had he been thinking, that he could just walk up to her grave and leave her flowers? That's exactly what he'd been thinking. "She saved my life," he said, barely above a whisper.
"I know," Malfoy said. "I was at the trial, remember? I heard your testimony."
"I know. It's just …"
"She didn't do it for you, Potter."
"I know that. She did it because she loved you. Merlin, she even convinced Snape to take an Unbreakable Vow to protect you."
"She did what?"
"Snape. She made him promise to protect you, promise to carry out Voldemort's orders if you couldn't. She would have done anything to save you." He watched as Malfoy processed what he'd said. "Just like my mother did for me."
"How do you know all this?" Malfoy asked after a while.
"I was there when Snape died. He gave me his memories."
"Right. Snape hated you."
"He didn't have much of a choice."
"Still …"
"Don't believe me, then. Come on." Harry stood up and headed for the door. At Malfoy's questioning look, he added, "I'll show you."
It only took a moment for Malfoy to consider his options. As Harry knew he would, Malfoy followed him to Gryffindor Tower. They walked in silence until Harry said the password and the door to the common room swung open.
The two Gryffindor girls that had remained behind for the holidays were in the common room, Joy to the World playing in the background. Harry had to hold back a moan as he saw the Christmas card they had sitting on the table. It had a picture of a bare-chested blonde man with wings, a man that looked disturbingly like Draco. Or at least what Harry had imagined Draco looked like under his robes. The girls stopped what they were doing - making heart shapes out of candy canes - and stared as Malfoy followed Harry in. Malfoy hesitated for a moment, then sneered at them.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on. We'll go up to my dorm where it's private. There's no one else in our year here."
Malfoy nodded and followed him. They got as far as the doorway leading to the stairs when the two girls started giggling. "Look, Harry!" one of them said, and they both pointed above his and Malfoy's heads. Mistletoe.
Harry felt himself blush. "That wasn't there when I left."
The girls giggled some more. What was it with girls and giggling?
"We thought it might be … funny since usually only boys go up there."
"Ha ha, very funny," Harry replied as he desperately tried not to look at Malfoy.
"What's the matter, Potter?" Malfoy said in a voice entirely too sexy to be allowed. "Don't tell me you're scared?"
Harry ignored the renewed giggles from the girls and looked at Malfoy. Was he serious? "Of course I'm not scared, Malfoy."
Malfoy raised his eyebrows in challenge, and Harry registered somewhere in the back of his mind that the giggling had stopped. He took a step closer and watched the challenge drop from Malfoy's eyes, to be replaced with something else, something Harry didn't dare name, for fear he might be mistaken.
Malfoy's hand reached out to grab his robes at the same time Harry's reached around Malfoy's neck and pulled him close. They were a hair's breath apart, lips not quite touching, for a moment that went on forever. Harry was looking into Malfoy's eyes, searching for some sign that he didn't want this; Malfoy was staring back at Harry. Seeing no hesitation, Harry closed the gap slowly. Malfoy's lips were soft and sweet, and moved gently against his own. When Harry realised that Malfoy wasn't pulling away, he parted his lips slightly, just enough that he could claim it was unintentional, but enough that if -- oh, yes.
Malfoy's tongue teased the opening of Harry's lips, and Harry eagerly responded with his own. As he leisurely explored Malfoy's mouth, Harry became aware of a tingling sensation - that same one he'd felt edge its way up his arm when he and Malfoy had shaken hands - all over his body. Oh, yes. Harry could spend days doing nothing but kiss this man. He would happily lose himself in kisses like this.
At some point, Harry's hand had made its way upwards from Malfoy's neck to weave fingers through his soft, blonde hair, and his other had come to rest on Malfoy's waist. Malfoy's one hand rested on Harry's hip, and the other was now caressing Harry's cheek.
A gasp brought Harry's mind back to their present location. The Gryffindor common room. He was kissing Malfoy in the common room, in front of two girls. Grudgingly, he drew back from the kiss. A kiss that he sincerely hoped would not be their last. A kiss that was better, more intoxicating than any Harry had ever experienced before.
He tried to make eye contact with Malfoy, to see if he had been as affected, but he had turned to look at the girls.
"Wow!" the one exclaimed. Her face was flushed and she looked a bit unsettled.
"Yeah," said the other who looked equally flushed. "I thought the two of you hated each other."
Harry held back a snort at that comment. He wondered when exactly that had changed.
"Who says we don't?" replied Malfoy, his usual superior demeanour firmly in place.
Oh. Well, then. That pretty much covers the question of whether he was as affected by the kiss as Harry.
Of course it had only been a challenge for Malfoy, hadn't it? He'd simply not wanted to be outdone by a couple of young girls - Gryffindors at that. Fine then. No worries. No harm done, really. Best that Harry knows where he stands now anyway. This way, he hadn't made some foolish move that would leave Malfoy laughing at him. Now they'd got that out of the way, they could move on. As friends. And Harry could hold the memory of that kiss with him.
"No way!" the girl replied knowingly. "No one kisses like that unless they mean it."
Except maybe a Slytherin, Harry thought. Surely the ache in his chest would fade in time.
~*~*~
"No one kisses like that unless they mean it," that stupid girl said.
I'm so screwed!
Draco couldn't look at Potter after that kiss. He couldn't look into those eyes right now. He was too far gone. Too open. He couldn't let Potter see him like that. He would know. How had he let the kiss get so far out of control? Why had he … well, it wasn't just one person involved there, but when Potter had parted his lips …
Draco didn't know if it was intentional or not; it could very well have been a gasp of surprise that they'd actually kissed to begin with. But Draco had responded as if to an invitation. He just couldn't resist tasting. After all, it might well have been the only chance he ever got. And he was not one to miss an opportunity.
When Potter's tongue joined in, Draco was lost. His mind kept telling him that it was just Potter's pride. Draco had challenged him, and he knew Potter wouldn't back down. After all, he'd had seven years of taunting him to learn which buttons to press. Draco wasn't in Slytherin for nothing. First, he agreed because Draco had challenged him. Then he matched Draco every step of the way. He wouldn't back down, couldn't back down. It was against his Gryffindor nature.
But it didn't make the kiss any less powerful. It was exhilarating, thrilling like no other kiss before had been for him. He'd only ever heard of a toe-curling kiss before; he hadn't actually believed that such a thing existed. Now he knew it did. Draco's body thrummed the same way his arm had when they'd shaken hands. Draco didn't know quite what to make of it, but he supposed it was their magic. He didn't know why it hadn't happened with any other witch or wizard, though he suspected it might have something to do with how he felt about Potter.
Which was why Draco couldn't face him now. Because he couldn't stand the thought of what he might see reflected in Potter's eyes. Shock, dismay, revulsion? Or even worse … rejection. Draco didn't think he could handle that right now. Best not to ruin the memory of that kiss - and oh what a kiss it was - with the reality of feelings that were not shared. Potter would be able to see through Draco's mask, a mask that he doubted would fool even these stupid girls.
"Clearly you've never been to a Slytherin party," Draco replied to the one that had made the painfully accurate statement, hoping he could pull it off.
The girls both scowled at him, but said nothing more.
"So, Potter," he said with a steadier voice than he'd thought possible. He walked around Potter and started up the stairs. "You were about to show me something?" He couldn't trust himself to look Potter in the eyes.
~*~*~
I can do this, Harry thought. Not one to easily mask his feelings, Harry was thankful just now that Malfoy wasn't looking at him. It made things easier.
As Harry rummaged around for his Pensieve - after all the times he'd used Dumbledore's, he decided that it would be worth getting one of his own - Malfoy stood leaning against the door, looking around the room. He said nothing, but Harry could tell he was nervous by the way he fussed with the sleeves of his robe, seemingly unaware he was doing so. Whether it was the after-effects of the kiss, or being in the Gryffindor dorm, Harry didn't know.
"Aha!" Harry said as he pulled out his Pensieve and the bottle containing Snape's memories, and placed them both on top of his trunk. He thought about extracting just the memories of Snape and Narcissa, but then … well, he didn't really have anything to hide. Besides, he figured Snape wouldn't mind letting his favourite student see them. And, if he did, well, it was payback for everything he'd put Harry through over the years.
"Have a seat over here," Harry said.
Malfoy didn't move. "If you knew that my mother only did it to save me, then … why?" Malfoy looked genuinely bewildered, staring at the Pensieve. Then he looked up at Harry. "Why did you testify?"
Harry shrugged and looked at Snape's memories swirling in the bottle. He was overcome with thoughts of a man living his whole life in love with someone that didn't love him back. He pushed those thoughts aside. "It doesn't make what she did any less important, does it?" Harry explained. "Doing it to save you doesn't make me any less alive."
"Tell your Auror friends that."
"I have. In fact," Harry explained, "I went so far as to say that without Narcissa's help, Voldemort may very well have won."
"Right."
"Well, actually, I didn't tell the Aurors that," Harry corrected himself. He took a chance by looking up at Malfoy. "I told the Minister of Magic that."
Malfoy's jaw dropped, but he said nothing.
Harry bit back a grin, held up the bottle, and motioned Malfoy over. This time he came. "So, do you want me to join you, or would you prefer to go in yourself?"
Malfoy watched as Harry poured the contents of the bottle into the Pensieve, and the memories began to swirl. "I'll go in alone."
Part 7
Author:
sesheta_66 Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 3900
Pairing/Characters: Harry, Draco, others (eventual H/D)
Summary: Christmas was fun, but they both couldn't wait to get back to school.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Challenges: Written for the following fourth week of Christmas prompts:
awdt Christmas Quickies: #22 - under the mistletoe; #23 - two candy canes in the shape of a heart; #24 - milk, cookies, carrots and water; #25 - Christmas crackers; #26 - the aftermath; #27 - the returns counter; #28 - after Christmas sales.dracoharry100 Christmas Challenge: Yule; New Year's Eve.slythindor100 Special Holiday Challenge: #22 - cookies and milk; #23 - author's choice (I choose a kiss under the mistletoe); #24 - presents; #25 - Christmas morning; #26 - bed with lots of pillows; #27 - bare-chested blonde angel; #28 - hot tub w/candles & wine. See pictures here.harrylovesdraco: #12 - 'LOVE' in the snow on a platform/plaque. See picture here.adventdrabbles on IJ: #19 - kittens and mittens; #23 - winter blizzard; #24 - candy canes; #25 - joy to the world.********
Click here to start at the beginning.
Harry was the first to wake the next morning, jolted from a delicious dream in which he and Malfoy … oh, God. He willed his arousal down - Filch and Pince, Filch and Pince naked, Filch and Pince having sex. That did it, though his stomach was a bit shaky with those images flashing before his eyes.
He quietly made his way downstairs to face the aftermath. He recalled what a disaster it had been the prior evening - presents and the remains of wrapping paper and Christmas crackers strewn all over the place - when Mrs Weasley had said she wanted to get to bed and that they should all do the same. Entering the living room, Harry realised that it had all been a ploy to get them out of her way; the place was cleaner than it had been when he'd arrived on Christmas morning.
He eyed a pile Mrs Weasley had created for the returns counter. Sure enough, there were a few duplicate items, along with a body-sized cushion covered in kittens and mittens that Ginny had cringed at. Harry wondered if Molly would ever see her daughter as a grown woman. Yes, she was the youngest, but she was seventeen, and even Harry had to admit Molly was a bit much sometimes. He'd watched Ginny's face turn a dangerous shade of red, and she looked like she was about to explode. Ron, ever the tactful one, had burst out laughing, asking if his mother thought Ginny was still ten. Ginny's face had registered shock, then relief as her other brothers came to her rescue and Molly graciously took it aside, promising to take Ginny to the after Christmas sales for something else.
Harry had stayed out of the discussion, as had Mr Weasley. They had exchanged a look, then escaped to the kitchen. They'd had an interesting discussion about Muggle traditions, and how children leave cookies and milk for Santa, and carrots and water for his reindeer. Mr Weasley had just asked Harry to explain the 'North Pole and elf business' when Mrs Weasley had called them back.
Feeling a bit peckish, Harry went to the kitchen to make some tea and raid the leftovers. He saw a sign on the cookie jar. Touch these and Yule be sorry. Harry groaned, but decided not to risk whatever trap George might have set.
As he reached into the cupboard for a tea bag, he saw that Ginny was outside by herself. Though he'd been careful to avoid being alone with her the day before, he couldn't help but be drawn to her now. She looked miserable as she drew something in the snow with a stick. Setting the tea aside to steep, he put on his cloak and went out to join her.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey yourself."
"Aren't you cold out here?"
She rolled her eyes at him. "Warming charm."
"Ah." He never had mastered that one. "I've just put some tea on, if you'd like a cup."
She smiled wanly at him. "That would be nice."
He looked at what she had been drawing, and saw the word LOVE in the snow. No sooner had he noticed it than she'd wiped it away with a wave of her wand.
"Neville asked me out, you know," she said suddenly. She had straightened up and jutted her chin out defiantly, as though challenging Harry to disagree.
Surprisingly - or perhaps not so surprisingly - the chest monster that had roared to life in sixth year whenever he had imagined Ginny with someone else, was silent.
"Neville's a great guy," Harry offered. He wanted Ginny to be happy, and he knew that wasn't going to happen with him.
He watched her register his words. She inhaled deeply, pressing her lips together in a hard line. "Yes, he is." Then she led the way back into the house.
Draco exited the ensuite and looked at the bed, covered with a mess of pillows that reminded him of his restless night. A sudden image of Potter in that bed, waiting for him, wanting Draco as much as he wanted Potter, did nothing to help him relax. It had been exactly those thoughts that had prevented Draco from falling asleep in the first place.
Then, once he finally had nodded off, he'd had an interesting dream. He'd started out walking alone through a blizzard, and found an old abandoned cottage in a clearing in the woods. He'd lifted his hand to knock, and the door had opened. Draco had followed a familiar voice that called from another room, and when he'd entered there had been a hot tub, complete with candles and wine.
Unfortunately, just when things were getting good - somehow he'd ended up naked with an equally naked body pressed against his back, hands possessively on his hips, and a husky voice suggesting they climb into the tub - Draco had woken up. Irritated and very aroused. Though he'd never seen the other man's face, he just knew it was Potter. He was so screwed. Or, well … not, as the case may be. Unfortunately.
He dried himself off, got dressed, then made his way down to breakfast.
Harry had arrived back at school mid-afternoon, after convincing everyone that yes, in fact, he was fine at Hogwarts without them; he'd see them all soon enough. He wanted to pick up a few things in Hogsmeade, and he also wanted to visit Godric's Hollow - something he didn't bother telling them. He'd thought about going on Christmas Eve, but given what happened the year before, he decided to go afterwards instead. And he didn't want Ron and Hermione joining him.
Harry was also hoping, though they hadn't talked about it, that Malfoy was going to ring in the new year at the castle. Harry very much wanted to start the new year off right. And he couldn't think of a better way than to spend it with Malfoy. If someone had told him a year ago that Harry would feel this way, he'd have sent them to St Mungo's for a psychological assessment. As it was, Harry hadn't looked forward to New Year's Eve so much in a long time. Or ever, really.
Exhausted from his day at the Burrow and a somewhat restless night full of wonderful but distracting dreams, Harry made his way to Gryffindor for a shower and some shut-eye. And maybe some time alone to think. Or, preferably, not think.
He didn't see Malfoy until dinner that night. And when Harry saw him, he knew it hadn't just been the wand that had him thinking of Malfoy most of the time he'd been away. Nor was that the reason Malfoy was starring in his dreams. Good Lord, but the man was gorgeous. When he caught Harry's eye and smiled, Harry knew he was a goner.
Draco made his way to the Great Hall, hoping Potter was there. He hadn't the energy to do anything when he'd first returned from Pansy's, and even though his instinct was to see Potter right away, he thought perhaps he should spend some time alone. Give himself time to think. For all he knew, Potter had been convinced to stay another night anyway.
Brushing aside the irritation that flared up at the thought of Potter spending another night in close contact with the weaselette - which did nothing to clear Draco's mind of things - he made his way to his dorm and got some much-needed rest before dinner.
When he walked into the Great Hall, Potter was there, as always, with a smile to greet him. Merlin, he was a sight for sore eyes. Draco knew he had it bad when he'd been gone less than two days from Potter's company, and the moment he saw that smile, he relaxed. He hadn't even realised he'd been tense.
"You're back in one piece, I see," Draco said as he took a seat and filled his plate.
"A somewhat larger piece," Potter joked, patting himself on the belly. "Molly is relentless about her guests eating. She still thinks I'm that scrawny little kid she met years ago."
Draco gave Potter a once-over. "Not scrawny any more."
Potter blushed slightly. He really needed to stop doing that.
They ate their meal in relative silence, and remained after everyone else had left.
"So how was your time with Pansy?" Potter asked. "Did she try to get you to propose?"
Draco snorted. "Hardly." He recalled the offer she had made. "But she did proposition me."
Potter's eyes flashed for a moment.
"Oh, relax your prudish Gryffindor self," Draco teased. "Honestly, it's not like I'd take her up on the offer."
"Oh?"
"Or any other girl, for that matter," Draco hastened to add. Might as well put it out there. It's not like it was a secret or anything, but he didn't know if anyone outside Slytherin knew. Besides, even if Potter wasn't interested in Draco that way - he had just broken up with the she-weasel, so he was clearly interested in girls - Draco wanted to see his reaction. See if he had a problem with the idea.
"I bet she wasn't pleased about that," he said with a grin. Hmm. No problem, it seems.
"No, she wasn't." That was an understatement. "But she's fine with it now."
Potter snorted. "Sure she is. That's why she propositioned you."
"And I suppose the weaselette is over you?"
He shrugged. "Well, she did mention that Neville had asked her out."
"Longbottom?"
"Mm hmm."
"He's got balls, going after the Chosen One's girl."
"She's not my girl any more." Potter scowled at him. "And don't call me that."
"Are you sure she didn't just tell you that to make you jealous?" Draco asked. He'd heard rumours that she'd done just that in sixth year, and it had worked. He wondered if it was going to work again.
"I think she told me in order to see my reaction."
Not as clueless as he seems. Interesting. "And?"
"And I told her that Neville's a great guy."
Oh. Good to know. Draco only just stopped himself from smiling.
Harry really needed to change the subject before he blurted out something stupid. Something like, Actually, Malfoy, I was thinking of you the whole time I was gone. Had dreams about you too. So, now that I know for sure you're gay - which is fabulous, by the way - would you care to have a go? Yeah, that would go over so well.
"Can I ask you something?" That was smooth.
"I believe you just did."
"Very funny. Really, though."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You sound so serious."
"It's rather … personal."
"And our sex lives and past girlfriends aren't personal?"
"Er …" Put that way, Harry did sound ridiculous. "I mean personal in a different way."
"In a non-personal way?"
"Prat."
"Honestly, Potter. Just spit it out."
"I don't want to upset you, but …" Harry hesitated, wondering how best to put it. "I was wondering where your mother is buried."
The light-hearted look on Malfoy's face turned serious, and his body stiffened. Harry felt horrible, but he couldn't take it back now.
"I was thinking about my parents," he explained, "and how I've only been to their grave once. That was last year, when Voldemort sent Nagini after me. I'd like to go back and visit the grave and my old house. Then I thought about your mum and …"
"Oh." Malfoy's posture relaxed a bit, but he looked distressed. "She's at the manor, where all our ancestors are buried."
"Oh." Harry hadn't thought of that. Of course a Malfoy wouldn't be buried in a public cemetary. What had he been thinking, that he could just walk up to her grave and leave her flowers? That's exactly what he'd been thinking. "She saved my life," he said, barely above a whisper.
"I know," Malfoy said. "I was at the trial, remember? I heard your testimony."
"I know. It's just …"
"She didn't do it for you, Potter."
"I know that. She did it because she loved you. Merlin, she even convinced Snape to take an Unbreakable Vow to protect you."
"She did what?"
"Snape. She made him promise to protect you, promise to carry out Voldemort's orders if you couldn't. She would have done anything to save you." He watched as Malfoy processed what he'd said. "Just like my mother did for me."
"How do you know all this?" Malfoy asked after a while.
"I was there when Snape died. He gave me his memories."
"Right. Snape hated you."
"He didn't have much of a choice."
"Still …"
"Don't believe me, then. Come on." Harry stood up and headed for the door. At Malfoy's questioning look, he added, "I'll show you."
It only took a moment for Malfoy to consider his options. As Harry knew he would, Malfoy followed him to Gryffindor Tower. They walked in silence until Harry said the password and the door to the common room swung open.
The two Gryffindor girls that had remained behind for the holidays were in the common room, Joy to the World playing in the background. Harry had to hold back a moan as he saw the Christmas card they had sitting on the table. It had a picture of a bare-chested blonde man with wings, a man that looked disturbingly like Draco. Or at least what Harry had imagined Draco looked like under his robes. The girls stopped what they were doing - making heart shapes out of candy canes - and stared as Malfoy followed Harry in. Malfoy hesitated for a moment, then sneered at them.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on. We'll go up to my dorm where it's private. There's no one else in our year here."
Malfoy nodded and followed him. They got as far as the doorway leading to the stairs when the two girls started giggling. "Look, Harry!" one of them said, and they both pointed above his and Malfoy's heads. Mistletoe.
Harry felt himself blush. "That wasn't there when I left."
The girls giggled some more. What was it with girls and giggling?
"We thought it might be … funny since usually only boys go up there."
"Ha ha, very funny," Harry replied as he desperately tried not to look at Malfoy.
"What's the matter, Potter?" Malfoy said in a voice entirely too sexy to be allowed. "Don't tell me you're scared?"
Harry ignored the renewed giggles from the girls and looked at Malfoy. Was he serious? "Of course I'm not scared, Malfoy."
Malfoy raised his eyebrows in challenge, and Harry registered somewhere in the back of his mind that the giggling had stopped. He took a step closer and watched the challenge drop from Malfoy's eyes, to be replaced with something else, something Harry didn't dare name, for fear he might be mistaken.
Malfoy's hand reached out to grab his robes at the same time Harry's reached around Malfoy's neck and pulled him close. They were a hair's breath apart, lips not quite touching, for a moment that went on forever. Harry was looking into Malfoy's eyes, searching for some sign that he didn't want this; Malfoy was staring back at Harry. Seeing no hesitation, Harry closed the gap slowly. Malfoy's lips were soft and sweet, and moved gently against his own. When Harry realised that Malfoy wasn't pulling away, he parted his lips slightly, just enough that he could claim it was unintentional, but enough that if -- oh, yes.
Malfoy's tongue teased the opening of Harry's lips, and Harry eagerly responded with his own. As he leisurely explored Malfoy's mouth, Harry became aware of a tingling sensation - that same one he'd felt edge its way up his arm when he and Malfoy had shaken hands - all over his body. Oh, yes. Harry could spend days doing nothing but kiss this man. He would happily lose himself in kisses like this.
At some point, Harry's hand had made its way upwards from Malfoy's neck to weave fingers through his soft, blonde hair, and his other had come to rest on Malfoy's waist. Malfoy's one hand rested on Harry's hip, and the other was now caressing Harry's cheek.
A gasp brought Harry's mind back to their present location. The Gryffindor common room. He was kissing Malfoy in the common room, in front of two girls. Grudgingly, he drew back from the kiss. A kiss that he sincerely hoped would not be their last. A kiss that was better, more intoxicating than any Harry had ever experienced before.
He tried to make eye contact with Malfoy, to see if he had been as affected, but he had turned to look at the girls.
"Wow!" the one exclaimed. Her face was flushed and she looked a bit unsettled.
"Yeah," said the other who looked equally flushed. "I thought the two of you hated each other."
Harry held back a snort at that comment. He wondered when exactly that had changed.
"Who says we don't?" replied Malfoy, his usual superior demeanour firmly in place.
Oh. Well, then. That pretty much covers the question of whether he was as affected by the kiss as Harry.
Of course it had only been a challenge for Malfoy, hadn't it? He'd simply not wanted to be outdone by a couple of young girls - Gryffindors at that. Fine then. No worries. No harm done, really. Best that Harry knows where he stands now anyway. This way, he hadn't made some foolish move that would leave Malfoy laughing at him. Now they'd got that out of the way, they could move on. As friends. And Harry could hold the memory of that kiss with him.
"No way!" the girl replied knowingly. "No one kisses like that unless they mean it."
Except maybe a Slytherin, Harry thought. Surely the ache in his chest would fade in time.
"No one kisses like that unless they mean it," that stupid girl said.
I'm so screwed!
Draco couldn't look at Potter after that kiss. He couldn't look into those eyes right now. He was too far gone. Too open. He couldn't let Potter see him like that. He would know. How had he let the kiss get so far out of control? Why had he … well, it wasn't just one person involved there, but when Potter had parted his lips …
Draco didn't know if it was intentional or not; it could very well have been a gasp of surprise that they'd actually kissed to begin with. But Draco had responded as if to an invitation. He just couldn't resist tasting. After all, it might well have been the only chance he ever got. And he was not one to miss an opportunity.
When Potter's tongue joined in, Draco was lost. His mind kept telling him that it was just Potter's pride. Draco had challenged him, and he knew Potter wouldn't back down. After all, he'd had seven years of taunting him to learn which buttons to press. Draco wasn't in Slytherin for nothing. First, he agreed because Draco had challenged him. Then he matched Draco every step of the way. He wouldn't back down, couldn't back down. It was against his Gryffindor nature.
But it didn't make the kiss any less powerful. It was exhilarating, thrilling like no other kiss before had been for him. He'd only ever heard of a toe-curling kiss before; he hadn't actually believed that such a thing existed. Now he knew it did. Draco's body thrummed the same way his arm had when they'd shaken hands. Draco didn't know quite what to make of it, but he supposed it was their magic. He didn't know why it hadn't happened with any other witch or wizard, though he suspected it might have something to do with how he felt about Potter.
Which was why Draco couldn't face him now. Because he couldn't stand the thought of what he might see reflected in Potter's eyes. Shock, dismay, revulsion? Or even worse … rejection. Draco didn't think he could handle that right now. Best not to ruin the memory of that kiss - and oh what a kiss it was - with the reality of feelings that were not shared. Potter would be able to see through Draco's mask, a mask that he doubted would fool even these stupid girls.
"Clearly you've never been to a Slytherin party," Draco replied to the one that had made the painfully accurate statement, hoping he could pull it off.
The girls both scowled at him, but said nothing more.
"So, Potter," he said with a steadier voice than he'd thought possible. He walked around Potter and started up the stairs. "You were about to show me something?" He couldn't trust himself to look Potter in the eyes.
I can do this, Harry thought. Not one to easily mask his feelings, Harry was thankful just now that Malfoy wasn't looking at him. It made things easier.
As Harry rummaged around for his Pensieve - after all the times he'd used Dumbledore's, he decided that it would be worth getting one of his own - Malfoy stood leaning against the door, looking around the room. He said nothing, but Harry could tell he was nervous by the way he fussed with the sleeves of his robe, seemingly unaware he was doing so. Whether it was the after-effects of the kiss, or being in the Gryffindor dorm, Harry didn't know.
"Aha!" Harry said as he pulled out his Pensieve and the bottle containing Snape's memories, and placed them both on top of his trunk. He thought about extracting just the memories of Snape and Narcissa, but then … well, he didn't really have anything to hide. Besides, he figured Snape wouldn't mind letting his favourite student see them. And, if he did, well, it was payback for everything he'd put Harry through over the years.
"Have a seat over here," Harry said.
Malfoy didn't move. "If you knew that my mother only did it to save me, then … why?" Malfoy looked genuinely bewildered, staring at the Pensieve. Then he looked up at Harry. "Why did you testify?"
Harry shrugged and looked at Snape's memories swirling in the bottle. He was overcome with thoughts of a man living his whole life in love with someone that didn't love him back. He pushed those thoughts aside. "It doesn't make what she did any less important, does it?" Harry explained. "Doing it to save you doesn't make me any less alive."
"Tell your Auror friends that."
"I have. In fact," Harry explained, "I went so far as to say that without Narcissa's help, Voldemort may very well have won."
"Right."
"Well, actually, I didn't tell the Aurors that," Harry corrected himself. He took a chance by looking up at Malfoy. "I told the Minister of Magic that."
Malfoy's jaw dropped, but he said nothing.
Harry bit back a grin, held up the bottle, and motioned Malfoy over. This time he came. "So, do you want me to join you, or would you prefer to go in yourself?"
Malfoy watched as Harry poured the contents of the bottle into the Pensieve, and the memories began to swirl. "I'll go in alone."
Part 7
