FIC: Surrender the Grey (27/30)
Oct. 5th, 2005 07:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emmagrant01NOTE: This is the first draft of this story. The final version can be read HERE.
Title: Surrender the Grey
Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco Malfoy returns to London after five years of self-imposed exile to start a new life with Harry. But will the secrets of the past destroy everything they've worked for?
Sequel to: Left My Heart. This will make much more sense if you have read that first!
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no copyright violation intended.
Length: 150,000 words
Status: COMPLETED November 2, 2005 (Posted March 2 - November 2, 2005)
Notes:
1. Please don't archive this story yet! This is the first draft, and in the next few months, it will be revised and edited. I'll post the final version on my website and a few other select archives, but in the meantime, feel free to link to this post.
2. There aren't enough words to say THANK YOU to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jedirita, hazelhawthorne, and charlotteschaos for beta-ing this story! These are some of the hardest-working betas out there, and they deserve lots of snaps for putting up with me for eight months.
3. Even though the backstory of this fic only assumes canon up through Order of the Phoenix, I stole a few cool ideas from Half Blood Prince. Cause they were cooler than mine...
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26
(27)
Wednesday, 31 January, 2001
"Fillywig," Draco said to the door. He stepped through it, began to shed his coat, and froze to the spot: after two days of absence Potter was sitting at his desk and flipping through a stack of parchments, forehead furrowed in concentration. He glanced up at Draco and nodded in greeting as if nothing were amiss.
"Feeling better?" Draco asked as he crossed to stand before Potter's desk. Potter looked pale and tired, as if he hadn't eaten or slept well in days. Except for a freshly-healed cut on his cheek, Draco could almost believe he had really been sick.
Potter shrugged. "More or less." He didn't meet Draco's gaze, and he looked like he was uncomfortable with Draco's proximity.
"Right," Draco said. He looked over at Weasley, who had his feet propped up on his desk, reading the Daily Prophet. "Weasley was so concerned about your health that he took most of yesterday off."
"Actually, I wanted to shag my wife," Weasley said from behind the newspaper. "The doctor finally gave us permission."
"You had to get permission?" Draco asked, incredulous.
"Yes," Weasley sighed behind the paper. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm sick to death of blow jobs."
"Ron!" Potter looked horrified.
Draco smirked. "Too much information, Potter?"
Potter snorted. "Did you two get any work done while I was gone?"
Draco shrugged. "Define work."
They spent the morning discussing ideas they'd started working on the week before, but it was clear that Potter's and Weasley's hearts weren't in it. They both looked tired, even defeated. Draco found himself watching the way they looked at each other, the subtle means by which they communicated. They were both thinking about something else entirely, which frustrated Draco to no end. He'd been made to feel welcome here at first, but it was now clear that it had all been a façade. It wasn't real. They didn't trust him with whatever it was they were really doing.
Potter and Weasley went for their daily run, which would have struck Draco as odd if he'd believed Potter had actually been ill for two days. He made sure he wasn't there when they returned, spending nearly two hours in a nearby Pret café and reading a book on ancient potions he'd got from the library.
His mind kept wandering to the events of Saturday night. After reading the same page three times without understanding what it said, he gave up and closed the book. He had spent much of Sunday lazing about his hotel room and thinking about Potter, wondering if Potter was thinking of him as well. He'd even sent a note through the enamel box Potter had given him, but never received an answer.
He just needed to get Potter alone. He was desperately curious to see if there was still a spark between them, a connection that he was sure he'd felt.
He cringed at his own thoughts -- this wasn't like him. He didn't worry about connections generally, nor did he care if someone liked him or not. Usually, Draco just wanted to get laid, with no strings and preferably no exchange of names. He had friends, and he didn't fuck them. Friends weren't for fucking; they were for bragging about the fucking later. He had started to think of Potter as a friend, but he'd also thought about fucking Potter. It was more than a little unsettling.
+++++
Potter and Weasley were arguing in frantic whispers when he returned. They looked away from each other when they saw him, and they didn't speak again for the rest of the afternoon. Draco tried to pretend he hadn't noticed, but he couldn't help feeling a bit paranoid.
Around 4:00, Weasley gathered up his coat and briefcase. "See you in the morning, boys," he said, and didn't wait for them to reply before disappearing through the door. Draco watched Potter stare at the spot where Weasley had disappeared.
"Trouble in paradise?" he quipped. Potter snorted and looked away. Draco crossed to his desk and perched on the edge, eyes sliding over the cut on Potter's face. "What sort of nasty bug did you have, anyway?"
Potter looked up at him then, frowning. "I wasn't sick. I had something to take care of, that's all."
Draco didn't let his expression change. "Did you take care of it, then?"
Potter sighed and looked away. "It doesn't matter right now."
"It mattered to Weasley."
"Just… drop it, Malfoy," Potter groaned.
"Look, I know there's something you're not telling me," Draco said, keeping his voice as calm as he could manage. "And that's fine. I understand why you don't trust me, but--"
"It has nothing to do with trust," Potter said, looking back up at him. "It has nothing to do with you."
"Doesn't it?" Draco retorted. "Don't patronize me. I know when I'm being lied to."
Potter pushed away from his desk and rubbed at his face with one hand. "No one is lying to you, Malfoy."
Draco rolled his eyes. "I suppose that's technically true. Not telling me what's really going on isn't precisely the same thing as lying outright."
Potter stood and crossed to get his coat, and didn't respond.
"Are you leaving?" Draco asked.
"I suppose," Potter replied with a shrug.
Draco felt a twinge of panic wind its way into his resentment. If Potter left now, while things were tense between them, he might not have another chance to talk to him alone. "Did you… want to get a drink, or something?"
Potter sighed. "Look Malfoy--"
"Fuck," Draco groaned. He stood and ran a hand through his hair. "If this is about Saturday, don't bother. It's clear that you're uncomfortable around me now."
Potter snorted. "It must be tiring to worry constantly about maintaining your position at the center of the universe. Do you really think this has something to do with our little discussion?"
"What was I supposed to think?" Draco retorted. "One minute you're about to kiss me in a dark alley, and the next you're disapparating, leaving me--"
"I was not about to kiss you!" Potter spat, his eyes wide. "God, you're delusional!"
Draco managed a bitter smirk. "And you're a horrible liar." He stalked towards Potter, watching him shrink back against the wall. "You're attracted to me, and you don't want to be. You're trying to pretend you don't feel it."
"I don't feel anything for you," Potter said. "Now back off!"
"What's this about, then?" Draco placed his hands on the wall on either side of Potter's head. Potter shrank back against the wall, as if trying to stay as far away from Draco as possible. There was something in his eyes, though, and Draco's smirk returned full force. "You're afraid, aren't you?"
Potter's lips pressed together in a thin line. "I'm not afraid of you."
"Of course you aren't. You're afraid of this."
Draco leaned forward until only a few inches separated their faces. He saw something flicker across Potter's face, and it made his stomach lurch. He wet his lips and smiled, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. "You'd love it if I just kissed you and got it over with, wouldn't you?"
"Why would I want that?" Potter asked, his voice cracking a bit.
Draco leaned closer, so close he could feel Potter's breath on his lips. "Because you don't have the balls to do it yourself, even though you want to. So much for Gryffindor courage."
Potter closed his eyes -- he was trembling. Draco bit his lip. He ought to do this now, take what he wanted. Potter wouldn't know what hit him. He'd probably even let Draco suck him off right here against the wall. He studied Potter's face again, staring at the way his eyelashes fluttered against his pale skin. He had freckles on his nose. His glasses were dirty.
The lurching feeling came back again, and this time Draco understood what it meant: Potter was trouble. Draco pushed away from the wall and turned to face the door, jaw clenched.
A hand grasped his arm and squeezed it to the point of pain. He was whirled around, so quickly it nearly threw him off-balance. Potter stared at him for a split second, wild-eyed, and then kissed him.
It wasn't much of a kiss, really -- it was far too wet and frantic, utterly lacking finesse -- but it made Draco's stomach drop about a foot anyway.
"There," Potter said, pulling away and trying to smirk. "I told you I wasn't afraid."
Draco tried to shake off his surprise. How had this situation had been twisted around so quickly? "Well… if that's the best you can do, no wonder you can't get laid."
Potter shook his head and slung his leather jacket over his shoulder. "Good night, Malfoy."
"It's not 4:30 yet," Draco said, hoping he didn't sound desperate. "Are you sure you don't want a drink?"
"Maybe I have a date tonight," Potter said, raising an eyebrow.
"With your right hand?"
"The left, actually," Potter deadpanned. "Got to change it up a bit, you know."
"Or maybe you could use a hand," Draco quipped.
Potter didn't miss a beat. "Maybe I could. Are you offering?"
"No," Draco said. "I'm just…" He stopped, flustered. He was making a mess of this.
Potter's eyes narrowed. "Just what?"
Draco took a deep breath and released it, struggling not to fidget. "I can't decide if you're serious. You know where I stand, but I have no idea about you. One minute I think you're interested in me and the next…" He was babbling like an idiot now. What was wrong with him?
"I'm not gay," Potter said.
"Could've fooled me."
"And I don't know where you stand. You're promiscuous as a rule, and I'm not. Do you think I want to be another tick mark on your bed post?"
"If you're not gay, what does it matter?" Draco retorted.
"Just because I'm not gay doesn't mean I'm not interested," Potter replied. He hesitated a moment more before saying, "You're… appealing, in your own way."
"Thanks, I think," Draco replied. They stared at each other for a moment.
"Shit," Potter sighed. He took a deep breath. "I'm probably going to regret this, but… still want to get a drink?"
Draco accio'd his coat and beat Potter to the door.
+++++
One drink turned into four, and drinks turned into dinner. They found a small Italian restaurant neither of them had been to before, and they chatted over pasta and Chianti. Draco told Potter about his life in New York -- about clubbing and his friends and his flat in Alphabet City and the way Times Square looked at night packed with people. Potter listened politely, even looking interested.
It was close to 10:00 when they stopped on the stairs in front of the Paddington Hilton. Draco bit his lip and thought about the cigarette he'd probably smoke in a few minutes, trying to work up his nerve. He'd never had to work this hard to get into someone's trousers in his life -- and he still wasn't sure this was such a good idea.
"Well, good ni--" Potter began.
"Do you want to come up?" Draco blurted. Potter stared at him blankly, and Draco shrugged. "I mean… if you want."
"Oh god," Potter groaned. "I should never have kissed you."
Draco stuffed his hands in his pockets and frowned. "It's not a big deal, Potter. You can say 'no'. I won't be offended."
"It's not that I don't want to."
"You don't have to explain," Draco replied, barely containing his frustration now. "I'm not a girl. You either want to fuck me or you don't."
Potter's eyes widened. "It's not that… I mean…" He took a deep breath and looked away. "We have to work together," he said, his voice lowered to a whisper. "And maybe you can just sleep with people and pretend like nothing happened, but I can't."
"Who says we have to pretend nothing happened?"
Potter gaped at him for a moment. "I'm not gay, for one thing. I don't want you to think this is something it isn't."
Draco laughed so loud that the doorman turned a suspicious eye towards them. "God, Potter, you really are naïve. I'm offering you one thing -- sex. Really fantastic sex, with no strings. If you want it, great. If not, stop wasting my time."
Potter looked utterly torn. "I… I should go home."
"Then go," Draco said, turning towards the revolving doors. "Go jerk off by yourself." He pushed through the door and didn't look back.
He walked across the lobby to the lift, rode it to the ninth floor, and keyed his door open. He stripped out of his clothes and crawled under the duvet in the darkness. He'd intended to wank, but he didn't want to now.
It was for the best that Potter had said no. Draco never let anyone get under his skin like this, but Potter had done it without him even realizing it was happening.
"I am so, so fucked," he whispered into the darkness.
There was a sound like a knock at the door. Draco opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Had he imagined it? After a moment, he heard it again.
He got up and crossed to the door. He looked through the peephole -- sure enough, Potter was standing there in the corridor, looking more disturbed than he had done downstairs. "What?" Draco grumbled.
"It's me," Potter said. "Harry. Can I come in?"
Draco sighed and unlatched the door. He opened it enough to peer through and frowned at Potter. "What do you want?"
Potter rolled his eyes. "To come in? Please?"
Draco stepped back and held the door open. Potter stepped past him into the dark room. He didn't seem to notice that Draco was naked, so Draco made no move to cover himself up. Let the bastard be uncomfortable.
Potter stopped in the middle of the room and looked around at the mess. Draco had woken up late that morning and strewn clothes everywhere in his haste to get dressed. The maids had just cleaned around it. Potter's eyes settled on the rumpled duvet.
Draco closed the door and leaned back against it, waiting. "Well?" he asked. "Did you want to explain your rejection a bit more, then?"
Potter turned to look at him. In the dim light through the window, the expression on his face looked fierce and determined -- a combination Draco wished he didn't find so hot.
"If your intention was to get me to make a fool of myself, you've won," Draco said. Despite his efforts, there was little venom in his voice. "So fuck off and leave me alone."
Potter stalked toward him then, his face twisted with something resembling anger. Draco swore under his breath -- his wand was across the room, of course. He stepped forward, but he was pushed back against the door so hard his head snapped against it.
And before he'd even registered the pain, Potter was kissing him.
It was a few seconds before Draco found himself capable of responding. This wasn't the rough, hasty kiss of that afternoon -- it was one of the best kisses Draco had ever experienced. He melted against the door, his hands snaking up under Potter's leather jacket to tangle in his shirt. One of Potter's hands was in his hair, grasping the back of his head and pulling him closer; the other clenched his shoulder so tightly it hurt.
Draco moaned into Potter's mouth, nearly overcome with the sensation of Potter's tongue sliding against his, of the feeling of a leather and denim-clad body pressed against him, of being so utterly naked and vulnerable. It was the most erotic thing he had experienced in a long time.
Potter shifted against him, an unmistakable erection in his jeans. Draco had grown half-hard from the kiss, but the knowledge that Potter was so aroused too sent him the rest of the way. This was why Potter had come.
Draco pushed off the door and backed Potter to the bed, working to unfasten the fly on his jeans as they moved. Potter stumbled backwards against the mattress, breaking their kiss. Draco tugged Potter's jeans down, but they wouldn't come off over the boots he wore. It didn't matter, though -- Draco pushed him to sitting and knelt between his thighs, staring at his cock.
It was bigger than he'd expected. He stifled a snort; somehow he'd always imagined Potter's heroics were compensation for other things lacking. Of course, compared to Weasley, they were all of them small. He chanced a look upwards, and saw that Potter was watching him, eyes wide.
"You don't have to--" he began.
"Are you kidding?" Draco replied. He leaned forward and licked the head of Potter's cock. When he blew across the wet stripe he'd made, he heard Potter suck in a breath. He couldn't help but grin as he trailed the tip of his tongue down the underside, planting a wet kiss at the base.
Draco loved sucking cock, and he knew he was good at it. Potter was whimpering by the time Draco finally wrapped his lips around the head. He slid down as far as he could, steadying Potter's dick with his hand. Potter shuddered as he moved back up, wriggling his tongue and sucking.
He took his time, wanting to make this as good as he possibly could. Potter's shackled ankles were going to be a problem soon, though. He fished his wand off the bedside table and managed to concentrate enough to cast spells to remove Potter's boots and jeans.
Potter didn't seem to notice. He leaned back on his elbows, his thighs splaying. "Oh, god, you're good at that," he said, his head falling back.
Draco pushed his thighs apart further and came off long enough to say, "It's about to get better." He guided his wand under Potter's balls with one finger and brushed it against his arsehole. Potter tensed beneath him, and Draco made a shushing noise. "Trust me," he said, then pressed the tip of his wand just inside.
He hadn't had a chance to use these spells for a while, as he'd been on a Muggle kick lately. The look on Potter's face just afterwards was priceless. Draco swallowed his cock again and didn't wait to see what it became when he replaced the wand with one finger. The lubrication spell eased the way, and it was easy to find what he was looking for. He timed the strokes of his finger with the movement of his mouth, listening to the sounds Potter was now making beneath him. He pressed another finger into Potter's arse.
He felt the tension in Potter's body a second before the hand in his hair tightened. Draco moaned before he could help himself -- this moment, just when he was about to make someone come, was always erotic. He was never sure if it was because he liked the way it felt when someone came in his mouth, or if he liked the way a cock got impossibly harder just before orgasm, or if it was just the feeling of having such power over someone else, but it never failed to send a jolt of pleasure to his groin.
Potter gasped as he came, almost as if he couldn't manage any words at all. Draco kept fucking him with fingers as he swallowed and sucked him clean.
"Oh, fuck," Potter mumbled, one hand over his eyes. "That was… god."
"Scoot back a bit," Draco said, and Potter complied, Draco's fingers still in his arse. Draco knelt on the mattress between his splayed legs and whispered, "I want to fuck you." He twisted his fingers and watched Potter's face.
"I… okay." Potter looked a bit pale.
Draco removed his fingers and positioned his cock. The lubrication spell was renewed with a single word, and he pushed forward. Potter sucked in a breath.
"Push back," Draco told him. "It helps." Potter nodded, but he didn't look any more comfortable. Draco paused halfway in and stroked Potter's thigh. "Getting better?"
"Sort of," Potter said through his teeth. "Maybe not. I thought this was supposed to feel good."
"Most people expect it to hurt," Draco replied.
"I assumed people wouldn't do it if it hurt," Potter said, his face still strained.
"You'd be surprised," Draco said with a grin. "It will feel good, though. Try to relax."
After a moment, he felt Potter relax a bit, so he pushed forward again. Potter was gloriously tight and hot, and it was all Draco could do not to fuck him outright. He wanted this to be good, though -- he might not get another chance, and he certainly wouldn't if Potter didn't like it.
"Okay?" he asked, now panting himself.
Potter nodded a few seconds later and Draco started to move as slowly as he could bear. He kept his eyes fixed on Potter's face, trying to find a rhythm that would feel good for him. He experimented with the angle until he saw Potter's expression change to one of surprise.
"Told you," he whispered. He worked harder then, pulling Potter's hips up off the bed for leverage.
Potter gasped, his eyes flying open. "Oh god," he said.
"You like that?" Draco grunted. He was sweating now, but he didn't care. Potter's responding groan was punctuated by the sound of their bodies slapping together. "I'm… I'm getting too close," Draco whispered, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine," Potter breathed.
Draco leaned forward, pushing Potter's thighs into his chest. He braced himself on his hands and pounded into him.
The world narrowed down to the sensation that was building in his groin. He heard Potter panting beneath him, occasionally making a small sound that could have been either of pain or of pleasure. He wondered if he was hurting Potter, and then his orgasm hit him so hard he didn't care about anything else.
He collapsed on top of Potter afterwards, his ears still ringing. It was a moment before he realized one of Potter's hands was on his back, sliding against his sweaty skin. Potter still had his shirt on, which felt odd against his bare chest.
Draco pushed himself up, feeling awkward. It had all happened so quickly, and he had no idea what to expect next. He stretched out beside Potter and risked a glance at his face.
Potter was staring back at him, eyes dark.
"Well," Draco said.
"Well." Potter's expression was guarded, even a bit uncomfortable.
"Are you all right?" Draco asked.
Potter looked at the ceiling. "I can't stay. You know, work tomorrow."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "We work at the same place, you know."
Potter sighed. "I don't want to impose. You made it clear that this was just sex, after all."
Draco pressed his lips together, already regretting those words. "Yes, but it could be more sex. It's not even midnight yet."
Potter made a sarcastic sound. "I don't think my arse could take it."
"There are spells for that," Draco quipped, forcing himself to grin.
"I'm hardly an expert," Potter said. He sat up and glanced around for his clothes. "I do need to go."
Draco watched him dress in the darkness, feeling more and more awkward. He was usually the one who was leaving as quickly as possible. Was that how Potter felt about what had happened? Draco frowned.
"I guess I'll see you in the morning?" Potter was pulling his jacket on.
"Yes, tomorrow," Draco replied, pulling the duvet around him.
Potter nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Right. Tomorrow." He turned to leave.
"Potter?" Draco asked. Potter turned around, and Draco took a deep breath before continuing. "Why did you change your mind?"
Potter hesitated a moment, and Draco wasn't sure he'd understood the question. He shrugged and smiled. "I was afraid you wouldn't ask again."
Draco smiled. "I don't give up so easily."
Potter ran a hand through his hair. "And I was horny as hell besides." He winked at Draco and disapparated.
+++++
Thursday, 1 February, 2001
The next day passed as though the previous night hadn't happened.
Potter and Weasley did most of the talking during their morning meeting, and pretended not to notice that Draco was unusually quiet. Potter didn't avoid looking at or speaking to Draco, and he didn't seem to feel awkward about any of it.
Draco, on the other hand, wanted to scream. He couldn't look at Potter without thinking about how his face had looked when Draco was inside him, or hear his voice without remembering his moans of pleasure when Draco was sucking his cock. Draco's thoughts kept drifting into fantasies, which shifted into worrying about whether he'd ever get a chance to fuck Potter again.
He finally excused himself to the toilet and stared at his reflection in the mirror over the sink, trying to regain control. He never behaved like this. Sure, there was the occasional fantasizing after a particularly good night of sex with a hot bloke, but he never felt awkward or uncertain afterwards. He was always the confident one, the one in control, aloof when others were clingy, unemotional.
A horrible thought struck him as he stared into his own grey eyes: was he actually falling for Potter? He winced and looked away from his reflection.
Potter and Weasley stopped whispering and moved away from each other when he opened the bathroom door. Draco gritted his teeth and crossed to his desk. His entire presence here was a joke. Maybe that was why Potter had come back last night -- to fuck him into submission. After all, that was all he was good for, wasn't it?
An hour later, a slip of parchment appeared on top of the stack of notes he'd been re-reading. Written on it in a messy scrawl were the words, You said last night that there were spells?
Draco stared at it for a few seconds before looking up to see Potter scribbling intently on a large roll of parchment. He didn't look at Draco.
Draco smiled before he could stop himself. He wrote down two spells along with a short and discreet explanation of what each did, then tapped the note with his wand. It disappeared.
A few minutes later, Potter headed to the toilet. When he came back, he looked significantly more relaxed.
Draco watched him for a while, chewing absently on the end of his quill. If he were honest with himself, he had to admit he'd always found Potter fascinating when they were in school. He'd found him annoying and obnoxious as well, but if he hadn't always been surrounded by his sycophants…
He glanced at the next desk and saw Weasley staring back at him. Draco looked down at the book on his desk again.
Weasley watched Draco off and on for the rest of the afternoon. It made Draco so self-conscious that he was unable to concentrate.
"I'm leaving," he said around 4:00, standing and packing a few books into his bag. "See you tomorrow." He felt Potter's eyes on him as he left, but he didn't turn back.
The walk back to the hotel seemed longer than usual. It was a rare stunning day, cool and crisp, the sky mostly clear. Draco wound his red scarf around his neck again in defiance of the sun. The weather had no right to be so lovely when he felt like shit.
He fell onto his bed and spent a good ten minutes staring at the ceiling, as he'd done after Potter had left the night before. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to the moment Potter had kissed him. He still had a tender spot where his head hit the door.
He couldn't help feeling bitter. Despite what Potter had said about not being able to just have sex with no strings, he'd been fine this morning. Draco had been the one pining away like a schoolgirl.
"Stop," he told himself, sitting up. This was ridiculous. He was acting like an idiot.
Besides, if he didn't do something soon, Potter and Weasley would shut him out of this enterprise altogether. He might not have minded two weeks ago, but it was personal now. It wasn't just a job for his father any more.
He stood and crossed to the desk, sifting through a stack of parchments and books borrowed from the London Library of Magic. He picked up the article from the American professor and considered reading it. There had been something in the abstract about a potion, and he'd been reading books on old magic.
Something shimmered to his right, drawing his eye. It was the enamel box Potter had given him. He'd forgotten about it. He opened the lid to see a slip of parchment inside.
You left before I had a chance to ask if you wanted to do something tonight.
Draco stared at it, feeling a flicker of something he couldn't name. He should tear the parchment into tiny pieces and send it back. He should throw it into the rubbish bin and ignore it. He should definitely not respond. If he spent another night with Potter, he doubted he could stop himself from falling for him.
He paced the room for ten minutes before he finally picked up a pen.
+++++
Potter's flat was small and sparsely furnished, but it was in an expensive neighborhood. Draco felt awkward as he stood in the small kitchen, watching Potter gather plates and silverware.
Potter's suggestion that he come over had caught Draco by surprise. It felt more intimate than any of their meetings so far. Potter had said he was tired of going out and wanted to spend an evening at home. Draco had assumed this meant he just wanted to get to the sex faster. He wasn't going to argue with that.
After a series of confusing notes back and forth , Potter had finally re-charmed the Find-it-Quick card to give Draco directions to his flat. The card hadn't been pleased when Draco had stopped at the wine shop along the way to pick up a bottle of viognier for their dinner.
Potter had picked up Indian take-away for them. He didn't have a dining table for some reason, so they sat on the sofa and balanced plates in their laps.
"How long have you lived here?" Draco asked, searching for a safe conversation topic.
"A few months," Potter replied. "I finally managed to sell some property I'd inherited, and I bought this place." He looked around with a satisfied smile. "It needs some work, but it's fantastic to have something of my own, finally."
Draco had never owned anything. "You should hire a decorator. No offense, but your taste in furnishings is… well, nonexistent."
Potter snorted. "I've been a little busy the last few months."
The conversation remained light and teasing while they ate, but by the time they set their plates aside and drained their wine glasses, an awkward silence settled between them.
"So," Potter began with forced casualness, "what do you want to do?"
Draco smiled and stretched out his legs, putting his bare feet in Potter's lap. "I dunno. Watch telly? Play cards?"
Potter grinned and stroked the sole of his foot. "I don't have any cards. And the telly's in the bedroom."
"Is it?" Draco asked, raising one eyebrow. "Then I suppose we'll have to--"
Potter lifted Draco's foot and planted a kiss on the arch. Draco watched as he kissed his way up to the toes, then took one in his mouth.
A very undignified moan escaped Draco's lips, and he melted into the sofa. Potter sucked each of his toes in turn, swirling his tongue around them and nipping them with his teeth. Draco had never known something so simple could feel so good.
He was half-hard by the time Potter finished. "No telly, then?" he asked, his voice a notch higher than he'd intended.
Potter's smile was almost wicked. He proceeded to undress Draco more slowly than Draco would have thought possible, kissing and licking him in places no one had bothered to before. Draco didn't know what to do to reciprocate, so he let Potter do what he wanted and tried to relax.
By the time Potter focused his attention on Draco's cock, he was achingly hard. Potter was kneeling on the floor, one of Draco's thighs draped over his shoulder. He'd kissed a trail down the inside of that thigh and stopped when he reached Draco's groin. He stared, and Draco wondered if he'd ever seen a naked male body from that angle before.
"If you don't want to--" Draco began.
"No, I do," Potter replied, looking up. "It's just that…" He blushed and looked back between Draco's legs again. "I've never done this, so I'm not sure where to begin."
"Do what you like done to you," Draco told him. Potter wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, and Draco sighed at the touch. "Hell, do anything. You know what it's like. It's all good."
Potter's tongue slid up the underside and Draco sucked in a breath. "I know, but I don't want to…" he paused and laughed, and Draco looked up at him. "I almost said 'suck at this'," he grinned. "But that would be the point, so…"
Draco grinned at him. "Yeah, it would."
Potter appeared to steel himself, and then took Draco's cock into his mouth. It wasn't the first time Draco'd had his dick sucked by a novice, and Potter didn't do a bad job. He seemed to have trouble finding a comfortable position, and he hardly used his tongue at all. Draco made encouraging noises when Potter did something well, hoping he'd take the hint.
After a few minutes, Potter sat back and wiped his mouth. "Sorry, my… my jaw hurts."
Draco smiled, not exactly sure what to say. "It's fine."
Potter brushed his hair out of his face and winced. "It isn't, but thanks anyway. I'll try again in a bit."
They moved to the bedroom and spent the next two hours exploring each other's bodies. Sex was usually a rough and quick experience for Draco -- the goal was to come as quickly and efficiently as possible, and then to move on. There was a level of intimacy between them tonight, though, and it was both exhilarating and unsettling.
The first time he came, it was from Potter's hand stroking him, something he turned out to be very good at. The second time he almost came in Potter's mouth -- he'd grunted a warning and Potter had jerked away so quickly he nearly fell off the bed.
Draco rarely bottomed, but when Potter asked if he could fuck him, Draco didn't hesitate. He performed a few preparatory spells on himself, then rolled onto his stomach. Potter struggled a bit to push into him, but finally managed.
"Fuck," he hissed, panting. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"
"No," Draco lied. He had to grit his teeth when Potter first started moving, but he finally managed to shift his hips to an angle that felt good. Unfortunately, Potter's movements shifted him right back.
"Let's try something else," he said at last. He straddled Potter and eased himself down on his cock again, then stroked himself while he moved. His thighs were shaking by the time Potter came, but he wasn't far behind.
Potter was mildly distressed at having semen splattered onto his chest. Draco teased him in response, trying to smear a semen-coated finger against Potter's lips. "I swallowed yours," he said. Potter finally relented and opened his mouth. He made a face, but didn't complain.
It was after midnight when Draco stretched out beside Potter and closed his eyes, exhausted. "I'm staying," he said, tugging a blanket over himself. "So don't even think about kicking me out."
"I wasn't going to," Potter replied, yawning. He surprised Draco by spooning against him and draping an arm around him.
Potter's breathing became shallow, but Draco lay awake, wondering what was happening between them. Sometime during the evening, he'd realized that the last time he'd spent a night with someone like this was back in school -- with Neville.
He hadn't thought about Neville in years. It had just been sex at first, but it had been after a night very much like this one that Draco had first realized he had grown to care about Neville. It had terrified him, and he'd pushed him away for weeks afterward. It was only because Neville was so determined that they hadn't broken it off entirely.
Draco shivered in the darkness and wriggled closer to Potter. This felt good, too good, really. He had no idea what would happen in the morning, and it scared him. He didn't like the fact that he was so vulnerable, that Potter made him feel something he hadn't felt in years -- something he'd tried very hard not to feel, if he was honest with himself.
Draco sighed and tried not to think about it any more.
+++++
Friday, 2 February, 2001
"Draco."
Draco opened his eyes to see Potter sitting on the edge of the bed and staring down at him. He had apparently showered and dressed, and Draco had slept through it.
"G'morning," he said, pushing himself to sitting.
"I have to go," Potter said. "I have a meeting at the Ministry this morning." He hesitated a moment before continuing. "I got an owl last night, just before you arrived. Something's going to happen in the next week."
"What?" Draco's eyes wouldn't focus. He blinked at Potter.
"Your father passes on intelligence every so often -- it's part of the arrangement we have. He thinks there will be a Death Eater attack in London in the next week."
Draco stared at him, and wondered if he should feel odd that his father hadn't told him any of this. "Are you sure?"
Potter shrugged. "The last time he warned us, there was an attack in northern England. We didn't take it seriously, because it seemed so unlikely, and… we were wrong. People died."
Draco pursed his lips. He wanted to know more, to ask Potter to tell him everything -- but he didn't want to press his luck. He'd need a subtler approach. "Can I do anything to help?"
Potter sighed. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that much. Security clearances and all, you know. But if you can get any more information…" He gave Draco a meaningful look.
Draco nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
"I've recast the wards to let you apparate out," Potter said, standing. "Stay as long as you want." He hesitated a moment more, then leaned down and kissed Draco.
Stunned by that gesture, Draco could only watch as Potter left the room. He heard the sound of the fireplace flaring a few moments later, and then it was quiet. He pulled his knees into his chest and sighed. He didn't want to think about what that kiss had meant, or how he should feel about Potter this morning, or about what had happened between them last night.
He lay down and tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn't. It felt odd to be alone in someone else's flat. He couldn't imagine leaving for work and letting someone stay in his own apartment. His mind was racing with thoughts of Potter and his father, and the possibility of a Death Eater attack. What would it mean if he could do something to stop it? Would Potter and Weasley trust him then, tell him what was really going on?
He got up and dressed, made an attempt to make the bed, and ventured into the main room. They hadn't bothered to clean up after themselves the night before, so he cast some spells to clear up the mess from dinner. With a final glance around the flat, he apparated back to the Hilton.
+++++
"Ebby."
The grubby creature appeared kneeling at his feet. "Master Draco is calling for Ebby! Ebby is worrying Master is angry--"
"Stop groveling," Draco said. "Where is my father?"
The elf stood and blinked up at him. "Master Lucius is at the country estate."
Draco nodded. "I want you to take him a message and wait for me there."
+++++
"I assumed they would tell you all the details," Lucius sighed, sipping tea from an expensive antique cup.
"I don't have the right security clearances, of course, but they tell me enough." It wasn't true, but Draco hoped Lucius wouldn't press the point. "Enough to know you aren't telling them everything either."
Lucius's smile was cool. "You can appreciate the position I am in, Draco. If I were to tell everything I know, the Dark Lord would suspect the information came from me. That would ruin our chances of ending this."
"So you give the Ministry just enough information to give them a sporting chance?"
"I suppose you could say that, yes."
Draco traced the rim of his teacup with one finger and didn't meet his father's gaze. "I'm not sure Potter and Weasley are telling me everything, either. Considering who I am, I can't blame them for not trusting me."
Lucius smirked. "I would have thought you could handle that yourself, considering your many talents."
Draco didn't take the bait. "I came here to ask you to tell me more, something that would help me gain their trust."
Lucius stared at him for a moment, then set his teacup on the table and snapped his fingers. A house-elf appeared, bowing so low its forehead nearly touched the floor. "Bring me the book that is open on my desk. Be careful not to upset it."
The elf's eyes widened, but it nodded and disapparated.
They sat in silence for several minutes. When the house-elf reappeared, it had a very old-looking dusty book suspended in the air before it. It levitated the book to the table with great care, appearing to be sweating from the effort. When the book touched down on the table, the elf heaved a sigh of relief and disappeared.
Draco stood to get a better look.
"Don't touch it," Lucius said, brandishing his wand. "It's cursed." He waved his wand and the pages turned, emitting a low rumbling. The yellowed pages were covered with an ornate writing Draco couldn't read. Lucius paused to study one page, then gestured with his wand. "Severus and I have been working to translate this spell for nearly a month."
Draco stared at the page. "What language is that?"
"An old one," Lucius said, still looking down at the page. "It's more than two thousand years old."
Draco squinted at his father. "What does the spell do?"
Lucius tore his eyes away from the page, something that appeared to take effort. "It does what we need to be done." He paused for a moment, so long Draco wondered if he would continue at all. "I am telling you this because I suspect Potter will try to kill the Dark Lord if he has the chance. That must not happen."
"I didn't think he could be killed," Draco said.
"Neither did I, but if Severus is correct, it is a possibility." Lucius turned toward Draco, his eyes hard. "This spell comes from a dark cult, one that cannibalized the magic of others to gain power for themselves." Lucius lowered his voice to a whisper, and Draco had to lean forward to understand him. "This spell will allow us to keep him alive and use him as a source of great power. Our cause has lost much during the Dark Lord's decline, but this will help us regain control. His close supporters are blinded to the madness that is consuming him."
"And they don't know of this plan," Draco said, staring at him. He hardly believed what he was hearing. "Are you certain this is possible?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"We will see," Lucius replied. "But this is why we need you, Draco. If Potter's plan is to kill the Dark Lord, you must intervene -- or we will lose everything we have worked for when he is destroyed."
+++++
Weasley was alone in the office when Draco arrived a little past 11:00.
"I was wondering if you'd show up," he said as Draco pulled his coat off. He frowned at the expression on Draco's face. "Are you all right?"
Draco sat behind his desk and sighed. "I think my father has gone mad."
"You've only just noticed?" Weasley quipped.
Draco pressed a hand to his forehead. "Do you know what their plan is, once we've trapped Voldemort?"
"Hypothetically trapped him," Weasley corrected, giving him a strange look. "Not really. We've just been told to incapacitate him. Why?"
Draco bit his lip and looked away. "I'll explain when Potter returns."
Weasley stared at him a moment more, then nodded and went back to reading the newspaper.
Draco sat at his desk, still reeling from what he'd learned. He'd thought they had little chance of capturing the Dark Lord at all. Killing someone who was immortal was hardly an option, unless Potter knew something the rest of them didn't. But what was this nonsense about using him as a power source? Draco pressed a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes.
Had he been brought here under a false pretense? Was Lucius lying to him, using him for some reason he couldn't yet see? Why would no one be honest with him?
"Good morning," he heard a voice say. He whirled in his seat to face the door, surprised. No one except the three of them had been in this room in the last two weeks, but a woman who had to be Cho Chang was standing just inside the door. She shrugged out of her smart wool coat and beamed at them.
"Look what the cat dragged in," Weasley said, smiling. "Where have you been?"
"Everywhere," she said, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder. She turned to Draco and smiled. "Draco Malfoy. I heard you were here. Nice to see you again."
Draco shot a look at Weasley, who seemed to understand his confusion at that remark. "Cho works in the intelligence services, so she knows everything that's going on."
"Hardly," she said, draping her coat over Potter's chair and leaning against his desk. "Where's Harry?"
"At the Ministry in a meeting," Weasley told her. His smile seemed forced. "Does he know you're back?"
"He ought to," she snorted. "I sent him an owl a week ago, but he hasn't written back once. He's going to have to take me out for a very nice dinner to make up for it."
"Oh, come on," Weasley said, winking at Draco. "You know how he is."
Draco smiled. He did indeed know how Potter was.
"Anyway, I dropped in to remind him that we've a reservation for tonight. I've no doubt he's forgotten that it's our anniversary."
Draco's smile faded. He saw Weasley glance at him and look back at Chang.
"Anniversary, eh?"
"Can you believe I've put up with him for an entire year?" she said with a dramatic sigh. "I cut things short to get back here in time, not that he'll appreciate it."
Weasley's eyes narrowed. "As much as you complain about him, I'm surprised you haven't moved on."
Chang laughed, flipping her hair again.
Draco felt as if he'd been punched in the gut.
And at that moment, Potter walked through the door. Everyone turned to look at him. From the expression on his face, he was quite surprised to see Chang standing there.
"Harry!" she cried, and flung her arms around him. Potter looked shocked, but plastered on an awkward smile when she pulled back to face him.
"You're back," he said, pointedly not looking at Draco.
"For a whole week," she said, straightening the collar of his shirt. "And you've forgotten what day it is, haven't you?" The expression on his face made it clear that he had. She made a sound of mock exasperation and kissed him. "It's a good thing I made all the arrangements, then. I'll drop by to pick you up at 7:00." She stepped back and grinned at Draco and Weasley. "I've got to run -- meetings all afternoon." With that, she disapparated.
The room was silent for several seconds. Potter had flushed red and was staring at the floor in front of him. Weasley looked uncomfortable.
Draco's heart had landed somewhere below his stomach. He took a deep breath, and then leveled a glare at Potter.
"You… have a girlfriend?"
Potter's face went from red to white. "Well… sort of."
"Sort of?" Draco repeated, shaking his head. He didn't know how to describe what he was feeling. It was all jumbled up in his chest, a mixture of rage and jealousy and disappointment, and it hurt. "You sort of have a girlfriend?"
"Draco--" Potter began.
"When the fuck were you going to mention this?" Draco asked. He was dimly aware that his voice was raised, but he didn't care.
"I think I'll just go out for a coffee," Weasley said, reaching for his coat. He didn't look at either of them as he disappeared through the door.
"Please don't," Potter said, leaning back against his desk.
"Don't what?" Draco retorted. "Don't get upset about this? Don't be angry that you deliberately misled me?"
"I never misled you," Potter snapped. "You never asked if I was dating anyone."
Draco gaped at him. "I figured the fact that you fucked me precluded the question!"
"It's not that serious," Potter replied, rubbing at his forehead with one hand. "It's just been a thing."
"It sounds pretty serious to me," Draco spat. "She seems to think so, at least."
Potter looked confused for a split second, and then scowled. "What do you care anyway? I thought this was just about sex."
It was a moment before Draco could reply. That comment hurt much more than he would have expected it to. "You know that's not true," he whispered. He couldn't bring himself to say any more.
Potter just stared at him, a strange look on his face. Neither of them said anything for several seconds. It was all Draco could do not to hurl himself at Potter, to hit him or shout at him, to throttle him for this.
He'd said himself that it meant nothing. He'd said it not two nights ago, and he'd meant it at the time. But it wasn't true -- it had meant something, something he hadn't admitted to himself until now.
"Fuck," Potter sighed at last, his voice rough. "I have to go back -- I just popped in to pick up some files. Can we talk later? Tonight?"
"You have a date," Draco replied, his voice flat. "It's your anniversary." He couldn't look at Potter, not now. He was actually relieved that Potter had to go; he didn't think he could bear to be in the same room with him much longer.
"Right," Potter said. "I'll… I have to go." He picked up a package from his desk and walked right through the door.
Draco sank into his chair, feeling numb.
+++++
Go to the next part
Title: Surrender the Grey
Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco Malfoy returns to London after five years of self-imposed exile to start a new life with Harry. But will the secrets of the past destroy everything they've worked for?
Sequel to: Left My Heart. This will make much more sense if you have read that first!
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no copyright violation intended.
Length: 150,000 words
Status: COMPLETED November 2, 2005 (Posted March 2 - November 2, 2005)
Notes:
1. Please don't archive this story yet! This is the first draft, and in the next few months, it will be revised and edited. I'll post the final version on my website and a few other select archives, but in the meantime, feel free to link to this post.
2. There aren't enough words to say THANK YOU to
jedirita, hazelhawthorne, and charlotteschaos for beta-ing this story! These are some of the hardest-working betas out there, and they deserve lots of snaps for putting up with me for eight months.3. Even though the backstory of this fic only assumes canon up through Order of the Phoenix, I stole a few cool ideas from Half Blood Prince. Cause they were cooler than mine...
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26
(27)
Wednesday, 31 January, 2001
"Fillywig," Draco said to the door. He stepped through it, began to shed his coat, and froze to the spot: after two days of absence Potter was sitting at his desk and flipping through a stack of parchments, forehead furrowed in concentration. He glanced up at Draco and nodded in greeting as if nothing were amiss.
"Feeling better?" Draco asked as he crossed to stand before Potter's desk. Potter looked pale and tired, as if he hadn't eaten or slept well in days. Except for a freshly-healed cut on his cheek, Draco could almost believe he had really been sick.
Potter shrugged. "More or less." He didn't meet Draco's gaze, and he looked like he was uncomfortable with Draco's proximity.
"Right," Draco said. He looked over at Weasley, who had his feet propped up on his desk, reading the Daily Prophet. "Weasley was so concerned about your health that he took most of yesterday off."
"Actually, I wanted to shag my wife," Weasley said from behind the newspaper. "The doctor finally gave us permission."
"You had to get permission?" Draco asked, incredulous.
"Yes," Weasley sighed behind the paper. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm sick to death of blow jobs."
"Ron!" Potter looked horrified.
Draco smirked. "Too much information, Potter?"
Potter snorted. "Did you two get any work done while I was gone?"
Draco shrugged. "Define work."
They spent the morning discussing ideas they'd started working on the week before, but it was clear that Potter's and Weasley's hearts weren't in it. They both looked tired, even defeated. Draco found himself watching the way they looked at each other, the subtle means by which they communicated. They were both thinking about something else entirely, which frustrated Draco to no end. He'd been made to feel welcome here at first, but it was now clear that it had all been a façade. It wasn't real. They didn't trust him with whatever it was they were really doing.
Potter and Weasley went for their daily run, which would have struck Draco as odd if he'd believed Potter had actually been ill for two days. He made sure he wasn't there when they returned, spending nearly two hours in a nearby Pret café and reading a book on ancient potions he'd got from the library.
His mind kept wandering to the events of Saturday night. After reading the same page three times without understanding what it said, he gave up and closed the book. He had spent much of Sunday lazing about his hotel room and thinking about Potter, wondering if Potter was thinking of him as well. He'd even sent a note through the enamel box Potter had given him, but never received an answer.
He just needed to get Potter alone. He was desperately curious to see if there was still a spark between them, a connection that he was sure he'd felt.
He cringed at his own thoughts -- this wasn't like him. He didn't worry about connections generally, nor did he care if someone liked him or not. Usually, Draco just wanted to get laid, with no strings and preferably no exchange of names. He had friends, and he didn't fuck them. Friends weren't for fucking; they were for bragging about the fucking later. He had started to think of Potter as a friend, but he'd also thought about fucking Potter. It was more than a little unsettling.
+++++
Potter and Weasley were arguing in frantic whispers when he returned. They looked away from each other when they saw him, and they didn't speak again for the rest of the afternoon. Draco tried to pretend he hadn't noticed, but he couldn't help feeling a bit paranoid.
Around 4:00, Weasley gathered up his coat and briefcase. "See you in the morning, boys," he said, and didn't wait for them to reply before disappearing through the door. Draco watched Potter stare at the spot where Weasley had disappeared.
"Trouble in paradise?" he quipped. Potter snorted and looked away. Draco crossed to his desk and perched on the edge, eyes sliding over the cut on Potter's face. "What sort of nasty bug did you have, anyway?"
Potter looked up at him then, frowning. "I wasn't sick. I had something to take care of, that's all."
Draco didn't let his expression change. "Did you take care of it, then?"
Potter sighed and looked away. "It doesn't matter right now."
"It mattered to Weasley."
"Just… drop it, Malfoy," Potter groaned.
"Look, I know there's something you're not telling me," Draco said, keeping his voice as calm as he could manage. "And that's fine. I understand why you don't trust me, but--"
"It has nothing to do with trust," Potter said, looking back up at him. "It has nothing to do with you."
"Doesn't it?" Draco retorted. "Don't patronize me. I know when I'm being lied to."
Potter pushed away from his desk and rubbed at his face with one hand. "No one is lying to you, Malfoy."
Draco rolled his eyes. "I suppose that's technically true. Not telling me what's really going on isn't precisely the same thing as lying outright."
Potter stood and crossed to get his coat, and didn't respond.
"Are you leaving?" Draco asked.
"I suppose," Potter replied with a shrug.
Draco felt a twinge of panic wind its way into his resentment. If Potter left now, while things were tense between them, he might not have another chance to talk to him alone. "Did you… want to get a drink, or something?"
Potter sighed. "Look Malfoy--"
"Fuck," Draco groaned. He stood and ran a hand through his hair. "If this is about Saturday, don't bother. It's clear that you're uncomfortable around me now."
Potter snorted. "It must be tiring to worry constantly about maintaining your position at the center of the universe. Do you really think this has something to do with our little discussion?"
"What was I supposed to think?" Draco retorted. "One minute you're about to kiss me in a dark alley, and the next you're disapparating, leaving me--"
"I was not about to kiss you!" Potter spat, his eyes wide. "God, you're delusional!"
Draco managed a bitter smirk. "And you're a horrible liar." He stalked towards Potter, watching him shrink back against the wall. "You're attracted to me, and you don't want to be. You're trying to pretend you don't feel it."
"I don't feel anything for you," Potter said. "Now back off!"
"What's this about, then?" Draco placed his hands on the wall on either side of Potter's head. Potter shrank back against the wall, as if trying to stay as far away from Draco as possible. There was something in his eyes, though, and Draco's smirk returned full force. "You're afraid, aren't you?"
Potter's lips pressed together in a thin line. "I'm not afraid of you."
"Of course you aren't. You're afraid of this."
Draco leaned forward until only a few inches separated their faces. He saw something flicker across Potter's face, and it made his stomach lurch. He wet his lips and smiled, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. "You'd love it if I just kissed you and got it over with, wouldn't you?"
"Why would I want that?" Potter asked, his voice cracking a bit.
Draco leaned closer, so close he could feel Potter's breath on his lips. "Because you don't have the balls to do it yourself, even though you want to. So much for Gryffindor courage."
Potter closed his eyes -- he was trembling. Draco bit his lip. He ought to do this now, take what he wanted. Potter wouldn't know what hit him. He'd probably even let Draco suck him off right here against the wall. He studied Potter's face again, staring at the way his eyelashes fluttered against his pale skin. He had freckles on his nose. His glasses were dirty.
The lurching feeling came back again, and this time Draco understood what it meant: Potter was trouble. Draco pushed away from the wall and turned to face the door, jaw clenched.
A hand grasped his arm and squeezed it to the point of pain. He was whirled around, so quickly it nearly threw him off-balance. Potter stared at him for a split second, wild-eyed, and then kissed him.
It wasn't much of a kiss, really -- it was far too wet and frantic, utterly lacking finesse -- but it made Draco's stomach drop about a foot anyway.
"There," Potter said, pulling away and trying to smirk. "I told you I wasn't afraid."
Draco tried to shake off his surprise. How had this situation had been twisted around so quickly? "Well… if that's the best you can do, no wonder you can't get laid."
Potter shook his head and slung his leather jacket over his shoulder. "Good night, Malfoy."
"It's not 4:30 yet," Draco said, hoping he didn't sound desperate. "Are you sure you don't want a drink?"
"Maybe I have a date tonight," Potter said, raising an eyebrow.
"With your right hand?"
"The left, actually," Potter deadpanned. "Got to change it up a bit, you know."
"Or maybe you could use a hand," Draco quipped.
Potter didn't miss a beat. "Maybe I could. Are you offering?"
"No," Draco said. "I'm just…" He stopped, flustered. He was making a mess of this.
Potter's eyes narrowed. "Just what?"
Draco took a deep breath and released it, struggling not to fidget. "I can't decide if you're serious. You know where I stand, but I have no idea about you. One minute I think you're interested in me and the next…" He was babbling like an idiot now. What was wrong with him?
"I'm not gay," Potter said.
"Could've fooled me."
"And I don't know where you stand. You're promiscuous as a rule, and I'm not. Do you think I want to be another tick mark on your bed post?"
"If you're not gay, what does it matter?" Draco retorted.
"Just because I'm not gay doesn't mean I'm not interested," Potter replied. He hesitated a moment more before saying, "You're… appealing, in your own way."
"Thanks, I think," Draco replied. They stared at each other for a moment.
"Shit," Potter sighed. He took a deep breath. "I'm probably going to regret this, but… still want to get a drink?"
Draco accio'd his coat and beat Potter to the door.
+++++
One drink turned into four, and drinks turned into dinner. They found a small Italian restaurant neither of them had been to before, and they chatted over pasta and Chianti. Draco told Potter about his life in New York -- about clubbing and his friends and his flat in Alphabet City and the way Times Square looked at night packed with people. Potter listened politely, even looking interested.
It was close to 10:00 when they stopped on the stairs in front of the Paddington Hilton. Draco bit his lip and thought about the cigarette he'd probably smoke in a few minutes, trying to work up his nerve. He'd never had to work this hard to get into someone's trousers in his life -- and he still wasn't sure this was such a good idea.
"Well, good ni--" Potter began.
"Do you want to come up?" Draco blurted. Potter stared at him blankly, and Draco shrugged. "I mean… if you want."
"Oh god," Potter groaned. "I should never have kissed you."
Draco stuffed his hands in his pockets and frowned. "It's not a big deal, Potter. You can say 'no'. I won't be offended."
"It's not that I don't want to."
"You don't have to explain," Draco replied, barely containing his frustration now. "I'm not a girl. You either want to fuck me or you don't."
Potter's eyes widened. "It's not that… I mean…" He took a deep breath and looked away. "We have to work together," he said, his voice lowered to a whisper. "And maybe you can just sleep with people and pretend like nothing happened, but I can't."
"Who says we have to pretend nothing happened?"
Potter gaped at him for a moment. "I'm not gay, for one thing. I don't want you to think this is something it isn't."
Draco laughed so loud that the doorman turned a suspicious eye towards them. "God, Potter, you really are naïve. I'm offering you one thing -- sex. Really fantastic sex, with no strings. If you want it, great. If not, stop wasting my time."
Potter looked utterly torn. "I… I should go home."
"Then go," Draco said, turning towards the revolving doors. "Go jerk off by yourself." He pushed through the door and didn't look back.
He walked across the lobby to the lift, rode it to the ninth floor, and keyed his door open. He stripped out of his clothes and crawled under the duvet in the darkness. He'd intended to wank, but he didn't want to now.
It was for the best that Potter had said no. Draco never let anyone get under his skin like this, but Potter had done it without him even realizing it was happening.
"I am so, so fucked," he whispered into the darkness.
There was a sound like a knock at the door. Draco opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Had he imagined it? After a moment, he heard it again.
He got up and crossed to the door. He looked through the peephole -- sure enough, Potter was standing there in the corridor, looking more disturbed than he had done downstairs. "What?" Draco grumbled.
"It's me," Potter said. "Harry. Can I come in?"
Draco sighed and unlatched the door. He opened it enough to peer through and frowned at Potter. "What do you want?"
Potter rolled his eyes. "To come in? Please?"
Draco stepped back and held the door open. Potter stepped past him into the dark room. He didn't seem to notice that Draco was naked, so Draco made no move to cover himself up. Let the bastard be uncomfortable.
Potter stopped in the middle of the room and looked around at the mess. Draco had woken up late that morning and strewn clothes everywhere in his haste to get dressed. The maids had just cleaned around it. Potter's eyes settled on the rumpled duvet.
Draco closed the door and leaned back against it, waiting. "Well?" he asked. "Did you want to explain your rejection a bit more, then?"
Potter turned to look at him. In the dim light through the window, the expression on his face looked fierce and determined -- a combination Draco wished he didn't find so hot.
"If your intention was to get me to make a fool of myself, you've won," Draco said. Despite his efforts, there was little venom in his voice. "So fuck off and leave me alone."
Potter stalked toward him then, his face twisted with something resembling anger. Draco swore under his breath -- his wand was across the room, of course. He stepped forward, but he was pushed back against the door so hard his head snapped against it.
And before he'd even registered the pain, Potter was kissing him.
It was a few seconds before Draco found himself capable of responding. This wasn't the rough, hasty kiss of that afternoon -- it was one of the best kisses Draco had ever experienced. He melted against the door, his hands snaking up under Potter's leather jacket to tangle in his shirt. One of Potter's hands was in his hair, grasping the back of his head and pulling him closer; the other clenched his shoulder so tightly it hurt.
Draco moaned into Potter's mouth, nearly overcome with the sensation of Potter's tongue sliding against his, of the feeling of a leather and denim-clad body pressed against him, of being so utterly naked and vulnerable. It was the most erotic thing he had experienced in a long time.
Potter shifted against him, an unmistakable erection in his jeans. Draco had grown half-hard from the kiss, but the knowledge that Potter was so aroused too sent him the rest of the way. This was why Potter had come.
Draco pushed off the door and backed Potter to the bed, working to unfasten the fly on his jeans as they moved. Potter stumbled backwards against the mattress, breaking their kiss. Draco tugged Potter's jeans down, but they wouldn't come off over the boots he wore. It didn't matter, though -- Draco pushed him to sitting and knelt between his thighs, staring at his cock.
It was bigger than he'd expected. He stifled a snort; somehow he'd always imagined Potter's heroics were compensation for other things lacking. Of course, compared to Weasley, they were all of them small. He chanced a look upwards, and saw that Potter was watching him, eyes wide.
"You don't have to--" he began.
"Are you kidding?" Draco replied. He leaned forward and licked the head of Potter's cock. When he blew across the wet stripe he'd made, he heard Potter suck in a breath. He couldn't help but grin as he trailed the tip of his tongue down the underside, planting a wet kiss at the base.
Draco loved sucking cock, and he knew he was good at it. Potter was whimpering by the time Draco finally wrapped his lips around the head. He slid down as far as he could, steadying Potter's dick with his hand. Potter shuddered as he moved back up, wriggling his tongue and sucking.
He took his time, wanting to make this as good as he possibly could. Potter's shackled ankles were going to be a problem soon, though. He fished his wand off the bedside table and managed to concentrate enough to cast spells to remove Potter's boots and jeans.
Potter didn't seem to notice. He leaned back on his elbows, his thighs splaying. "Oh, god, you're good at that," he said, his head falling back.
Draco pushed his thighs apart further and came off long enough to say, "It's about to get better." He guided his wand under Potter's balls with one finger and brushed it against his arsehole. Potter tensed beneath him, and Draco made a shushing noise. "Trust me," he said, then pressed the tip of his wand just inside.
He hadn't had a chance to use these spells for a while, as he'd been on a Muggle kick lately. The look on Potter's face just afterwards was priceless. Draco swallowed his cock again and didn't wait to see what it became when he replaced the wand with one finger. The lubrication spell eased the way, and it was easy to find what he was looking for. He timed the strokes of his finger with the movement of his mouth, listening to the sounds Potter was now making beneath him. He pressed another finger into Potter's arse.
He felt the tension in Potter's body a second before the hand in his hair tightened. Draco moaned before he could help himself -- this moment, just when he was about to make someone come, was always erotic. He was never sure if it was because he liked the way it felt when someone came in his mouth, or if he liked the way a cock got impossibly harder just before orgasm, or if it was just the feeling of having such power over someone else, but it never failed to send a jolt of pleasure to his groin.
Potter gasped as he came, almost as if he couldn't manage any words at all. Draco kept fucking him with fingers as he swallowed and sucked him clean.
"Oh, fuck," Potter mumbled, one hand over his eyes. "That was… god."
"Scoot back a bit," Draco said, and Potter complied, Draco's fingers still in his arse. Draco knelt on the mattress between his splayed legs and whispered, "I want to fuck you." He twisted his fingers and watched Potter's face.
"I… okay." Potter looked a bit pale.
Draco removed his fingers and positioned his cock. The lubrication spell was renewed with a single word, and he pushed forward. Potter sucked in a breath.
"Push back," Draco told him. "It helps." Potter nodded, but he didn't look any more comfortable. Draco paused halfway in and stroked Potter's thigh. "Getting better?"
"Sort of," Potter said through his teeth. "Maybe not. I thought this was supposed to feel good."
"Most people expect it to hurt," Draco replied.
"I assumed people wouldn't do it if it hurt," Potter said, his face still strained.
"You'd be surprised," Draco said with a grin. "It will feel good, though. Try to relax."
After a moment, he felt Potter relax a bit, so he pushed forward again. Potter was gloriously tight and hot, and it was all Draco could do not to fuck him outright. He wanted this to be good, though -- he might not get another chance, and he certainly wouldn't if Potter didn't like it.
"Okay?" he asked, now panting himself.
Potter nodded a few seconds later and Draco started to move as slowly as he could bear. He kept his eyes fixed on Potter's face, trying to find a rhythm that would feel good for him. He experimented with the angle until he saw Potter's expression change to one of surprise.
"Told you," he whispered. He worked harder then, pulling Potter's hips up off the bed for leverage.
Potter gasped, his eyes flying open. "Oh god," he said.
"You like that?" Draco grunted. He was sweating now, but he didn't care. Potter's responding groan was punctuated by the sound of their bodies slapping together. "I'm… I'm getting too close," Draco whispered, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine," Potter breathed.
Draco leaned forward, pushing Potter's thighs into his chest. He braced himself on his hands and pounded into him.
The world narrowed down to the sensation that was building in his groin. He heard Potter panting beneath him, occasionally making a small sound that could have been either of pain or of pleasure. He wondered if he was hurting Potter, and then his orgasm hit him so hard he didn't care about anything else.
He collapsed on top of Potter afterwards, his ears still ringing. It was a moment before he realized one of Potter's hands was on his back, sliding against his sweaty skin. Potter still had his shirt on, which felt odd against his bare chest.
Draco pushed himself up, feeling awkward. It had all happened so quickly, and he had no idea what to expect next. He stretched out beside Potter and risked a glance at his face.
Potter was staring back at him, eyes dark.
"Well," Draco said.
"Well." Potter's expression was guarded, even a bit uncomfortable.
"Are you all right?" Draco asked.
Potter looked at the ceiling. "I can't stay. You know, work tomorrow."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "We work at the same place, you know."
Potter sighed. "I don't want to impose. You made it clear that this was just sex, after all."
Draco pressed his lips together, already regretting those words. "Yes, but it could be more sex. It's not even midnight yet."
Potter made a sarcastic sound. "I don't think my arse could take it."
"There are spells for that," Draco quipped, forcing himself to grin.
"I'm hardly an expert," Potter said. He sat up and glanced around for his clothes. "I do need to go."
Draco watched him dress in the darkness, feeling more and more awkward. He was usually the one who was leaving as quickly as possible. Was that how Potter felt about what had happened? Draco frowned.
"I guess I'll see you in the morning?" Potter was pulling his jacket on.
"Yes, tomorrow," Draco replied, pulling the duvet around him.
Potter nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Right. Tomorrow." He turned to leave.
"Potter?" Draco asked. Potter turned around, and Draco took a deep breath before continuing. "Why did you change your mind?"
Potter hesitated a moment, and Draco wasn't sure he'd understood the question. He shrugged and smiled. "I was afraid you wouldn't ask again."
Draco smiled. "I don't give up so easily."
Potter ran a hand through his hair. "And I was horny as hell besides." He winked at Draco and disapparated.
+++++
Thursday, 1 February, 2001
The next day passed as though the previous night hadn't happened.
Potter and Weasley did most of the talking during their morning meeting, and pretended not to notice that Draco was unusually quiet. Potter didn't avoid looking at or speaking to Draco, and he didn't seem to feel awkward about any of it.
Draco, on the other hand, wanted to scream. He couldn't look at Potter without thinking about how his face had looked when Draco was inside him, or hear his voice without remembering his moans of pleasure when Draco was sucking his cock. Draco's thoughts kept drifting into fantasies, which shifted into worrying about whether he'd ever get a chance to fuck Potter again.
He finally excused himself to the toilet and stared at his reflection in the mirror over the sink, trying to regain control. He never behaved like this. Sure, there was the occasional fantasizing after a particularly good night of sex with a hot bloke, but he never felt awkward or uncertain afterwards. He was always the confident one, the one in control, aloof when others were clingy, unemotional.
A horrible thought struck him as he stared into his own grey eyes: was he actually falling for Potter? He winced and looked away from his reflection.
Potter and Weasley stopped whispering and moved away from each other when he opened the bathroom door. Draco gritted his teeth and crossed to his desk. His entire presence here was a joke. Maybe that was why Potter had come back last night -- to fuck him into submission. After all, that was all he was good for, wasn't it?
An hour later, a slip of parchment appeared on top of the stack of notes he'd been re-reading. Written on it in a messy scrawl were the words, You said last night that there were spells?
Draco stared at it for a few seconds before looking up to see Potter scribbling intently on a large roll of parchment. He didn't look at Draco.
Draco smiled before he could stop himself. He wrote down two spells along with a short and discreet explanation of what each did, then tapped the note with his wand. It disappeared.
A few minutes later, Potter headed to the toilet. When he came back, he looked significantly more relaxed.
Draco watched him for a while, chewing absently on the end of his quill. If he were honest with himself, he had to admit he'd always found Potter fascinating when they were in school. He'd found him annoying and obnoxious as well, but if he hadn't always been surrounded by his sycophants…
He glanced at the next desk and saw Weasley staring back at him. Draco looked down at the book on his desk again.
Weasley watched Draco off and on for the rest of the afternoon. It made Draco so self-conscious that he was unable to concentrate.
"I'm leaving," he said around 4:00, standing and packing a few books into his bag. "See you tomorrow." He felt Potter's eyes on him as he left, but he didn't turn back.
The walk back to the hotel seemed longer than usual. It was a rare stunning day, cool and crisp, the sky mostly clear. Draco wound his red scarf around his neck again in defiance of the sun. The weather had no right to be so lovely when he felt like shit.
He fell onto his bed and spent a good ten minutes staring at the ceiling, as he'd done after Potter had left the night before. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to the moment Potter had kissed him. He still had a tender spot where his head hit the door.
He couldn't help feeling bitter. Despite what Potter had said about not being able to just have sex with no strings, he'd been fine this morning. Draco had been the one pining away like a schoolgirl.
"Stop," he told himself, sitting up. This was ridiculous. He was acting like an idiot.
Besides, if he didn't do something soon, Potter and Weasley would shut him out of this enterprise altogether. He might not have minded two weeks ago, but it was personal now. It wasn't just a job for his father any more.
He stood and crossed to the desk, sifting through a stack of parchments and books borrowed from the London Library of Magic. He picked up the article from the American professor and considered reading it. There had been something in the abstract about a potion, and he'd been reading books on old magic.
Something shimmered to his right, drawing his eye. It was the enamel box Potter had given him. He'd forgotten about it. He opened the lid to see a slip of parchment inside.
You left before I had a chance to ask if you wanted to do something tonight.
Draco stared at it, feeling a flicker of something he couldn't name. He should tear the parchment into tiny pieces and send it back. He should throw it into the rubbish bin and ignore it. He should definitely not respond. If he spent another night with Potter, he doubted he could stop himself from falling for him.
He paced the room for ten minutes before he finally picked up a pen.
+++++
Potter's flat was small and sparsely furnished, but it was in an expensive neighborhood. Draco felt awkward as he stood in the small kitchen, watching Potter gather plates and silverware.
Potter's suggestion that he come over had caught Draco by surprise. It felt more intimate than any of their meetings so far. Potter had said he was tired of going out and wanted to spend an evening at home. Draco had assumed this meant he just wanted to get to the sex faster. He wasn't going to argue with that.
After a series of confusing notes back and forth , Potter had finally re-charmed the Find-it-Quick card to give Draco directions to his flat. The card hadn't been pleased when Draco had stopped at the wine shop along the way to pick up a bottle of viognier for their dinner.
Potter had picked up Indian take-away for them. He didn't have a dining table for some reason, so they sat on the sofa and balanced plates in their laps.
"How long have you lived here?" Draco asked, searching for a safe conversation topic.
"A few months," Potter replied. "I finally managed to sell some property I'd inherited, and I bought this place." He looked around with a satisfied smile. "It needs some work, but it's fantastic to have something of my own, finally."
Draco had never owned anything. "You should hire a decorator. No offense, but your taste in furnishings is… well, nonexistent."
Potter snorted. "I've been a little busy the last few months."
The conversation remained light and teasing while they ate, but by the time they set their plates aside and drained their wine glasses, an awkward silence settled between them.
"So," Potter began with forced casualness, "what do you want to do?"
Draco smiled and stretched out his legs, putting his bare feet in Potter's lap. "I dunno. Watch telly? Play cards?"
Potter grinned and stroked the sole of his foot. "I don't have any cards. And the telly's in the bedroom."
"Is it?" Draco asked, raising one eyebrow. "Then I suppose we'll have to--"
Potter lifted Draco's foot and planted a kiss on the arch. Draco watched as he kissed his way up to the toes, then took one in his mouth.
A very undignified moan escaped Draco's lips, and he melted into the sofa. Potter sucked each of his toes in turn, swirling his tongue around them and nipping them with his teeth. Draco had never known something so simple could feel so good.
He was half-hard by the time Potter finished. "No telly, then?" he asked, his voice a notch higher than he'd intended.
Potter's smile was almost wicked. He proceeded to undress Draco more slowly than Draco would have thought possible, kissing and licking him in places no one had bothered to before. Draco didn't know what to do to reciprocate, so he let Potter do what he wanted and tried to relax.
By the time Potter focused his attention on Draco's cock, he was achingly hard. Potter was kneeling on the floor, one of Draco's thighs draped over his shoulder. He'd kissed a trail down the inside of that thigh and stopped when he reached Draco's groin. He stared, and Draco wondered if he'd ever seen a naked male body from that angle before.
"If you don't want to--" Draco began.
"No, I do," Potter replied, looking up. "It's just that…" He blushed and looked back between Draco's legs again. "I've never done this, so I'm not sure where to begin."
"Do what you like done to you," Draco told him. Potter wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, and Draco sighed at the touch. "Hell, do anything. You know what it's like. It's all good."
Potter's tongue slid up the underside and Draco sucked in a breath. "I know, but I don't want to…" he paused and laughed, and Draco looked up at him. "I almost said 'suck at this'," he grinned. "But that would be the point, so…"
Draco grinned at him. "Yeah, it would."
Potter appeared to steel himself, and then took Draco's cock into his mouth. It wasn't the first time Draco'd had his dick sucked by a novice, and Potter didn't do a bad job. He seemed to have trouble finding a comfortable position, and he hardly used his tongue at all. Draco made encouraging noises when Potter did something well, hoping he'd take the hint.
After a few minutes, Potter sat back and wiped his mouth. "Sorry, my… my jaw hurts."
Draco smiled, not exactly sure what to say. "It's fine."
Potter brushed his hair out of his face and winced. "It isn't, but thanks anyway. I'll try again in a bit."
They moved to the bedroom and spent the next two hours exploring each other's bodies. Sex was usually a rough and quick experience for Draco -- the goal was to come as quickly and efficiently as possible, and then to move on. There was a level of intimacy between them tonight, though, and it was both exhilarating and unsettling.
The first time he came, it was from Potter's hand stroking him, something he turned out to be very good at. The second time he almost came in Potter's mouth -- he'd grunted a warning and Potter had jerked away so quickly he nearly fell off the bed.
Draco rarely bottomed, but when Potter asked if he could fuck him, Draco didn't hesitate. He performed a few preparatory spells on himself, then rolled onto his stomach. Potter struggled a bit to push into him, but finally managed.
"Fuck," he hissed, panting. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"
"No," Draco lied. He had to grit his teeth when Potter first started moving, but he finally managed to shift his hips to an angle that felt good. Unfortunately, Potter's movements shifted him right back.
"Let's try something else," he said at last. He straddled Potter and eased himself down on his cock again, then stroked himself while he moved. His thighs were shaking by the time Potter came, but he wasn't far behind.
Potter was mildly distressed at having semen splattered onto his chest. Draco teased him in response, trying to smear a semen-coated finger against Potter's lips. "I swallowed yours," he said. Potter finally relented and opened his mouth. He made a face, but didn't complain.
It was after midnight when Draco stretched out beside Potter and closed his eyes, exhausted. "I'm staying," he said, tugging a blanket over himself. "So don't even think about kicking me out."
"I wasn't going to," Potter replied, yawning. He surprised Draco by spooning against him and draping an arm around him.
Potter's breathing became shallow, but Draco lay awake, wondering what was happening between them. Sometime during the evening, he'd realized that the last time he'd spent a night with someone like this was back in school -- with Neville.
He hadn't thought about Neville in years. It had just been sex at first, but it had been after a night very much like this one that Draco had first realized he had grown to care about Neville. It had terrified him, and he'd pushed him away for weeks afterward. It was only because Neville was so determined that they hadn't broken it off entirely.
Draco shivered in the darkness and wriggled closer to Potter. This felt good, too good, really. He had no idea what would happen in the morning, and it scared him. He didn't like the fact that he was so vulnerable, that Potter made him feel something he hadn't felt in years -- something he'd tried very hard not to feel, if he was honest with himself.
Draco sighed and tried not to think about it any more.
+++++
Friday, 2 February, 2001
"Draco."
Draco opened his eyes to see Potter sitting on the edge of the bed and staring down at him. He had apparently showered and dressed, and Draco had slept through it.
"G'morning," he said, pushing himself to sitting.
"I have to go," Potter said. "I have a meeting at the Ministry this morning." He hesitated a moment before continuing. "I got an owl last night, just before you arrived. Something's going to happen in the next week."
"What?" Draco's eyes wouldn't focus. He blinked at Potter.
"Your father passes on intelligence every so often -- it's part of the arrangement we have. He thinks there will be a Death Eater attack in London in the next week."
Draco stared at him, and wondered if he should feel odd that his father hadn't told him any of this. "Are you sure?"
Potter shrugged. "The last time he warned us, there was an attack in northern England. We didn't take it seriously, because it seemed so unlikely, and… we were wrong. People died."
Draco pursed his lips. He wanted to know more, to ask Potter to tell him everything -- but he didn't want to press his luck. He'd need a subtler approach. "Can I do anything to help?"
Potter sighed. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that much. Security clearances and all, you know. But if you can get any more information…" He gave Draco a meaningful look.
Draco nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
"I've recast the wards to let you apparate out," Potter said, standing. "Stay as long as you want." He hesitated a moment more, then leaned down and kissed Draco.
Stunned by that gesture, Draco could only watch as Potter left the room. He heard the sound of the fireplace flaring a few moments later, and then it was quiet. He pulled his knees into his chest and sighed. He didn't want to think about what that kiss had meant, or how he should feel about Potter this morning, or about what had happened between them last night.
He lay down and tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn't. It felt odd to be alone in someone else's flat. He couldn't imagine leaving for work and letting someone stay in his own apartment. His mind was racing with thoughts of Potter and his father, and the possibility of a Death Eater attack. What would it mean if he could do something to stop it? Would Potter and Weasley trust him then, tell him what was really going on?
He got up and dressed, made an attempt to make the bed, and ventured into the main room. They hadn't bothered to clean up after themselves the night before, so he cast some spells to clear up the mess from dinner. With a final glance around the flat, he apparated back to the Hilton.
+++++
"Ebby."
The grubby creature appeared kneeling at his feet. "Master Draco is calling for Ebby! Ebby is worrying Master is angry--"
"Stop groveling," Draco said. "Where is my father?"
The elf stood and blinked up at him. "Master Lucius is at the country estate."
Draco nodded. "I want you to take him a message and wait for me there."
+++++
"I assumed they would tell you all the details," Lucius sighed, sipping tea from an expensive antique cup.
"I don't have the right security clearances, of course, but they tell me enough." It wasn't true, but Draco hoped Lucius wouldn't press the point. "Enough to know you aren't telling them everything either."
Lucius's smile was cool. "You can appreciate the position I am in, Draco. If I were to tell everything I know, the Dark Lord would suspect the information came from me. That would ruin our chances of ending this."
"So you give the Ministry just enough information to give them a sporting chance?"
"I suppose you could say that, yes."
Draco traced the rim of his teacup with one finger and didn't meet his father's gaze. "I'm not sure Potter and Weasley are telling me everything, either. Considering who I am, I can't blame them for not trusting me."
Lucius smirked. "I would have thought you could handle that yourself, considering your many talents."
Draco didn't take the bait. "I came here to ask you to tell me more, something that would help me gain their trust."
Lucius stared at him for a moment, then set his teacup on the table and snapped his fingers. A house-elf appeared, bowing so low its forehead nearly touched the floor. "Bring me the book that is open on my desk. Be careful not to upset it."
The elf's eyes widened, but it nodded and disapparated.
They sat in silence for several minutes. When the house-elf reappeared, it had a very old-looking dusty book suspended in the air before it. It levitated the book to the table with great care, appearing to be sweating from the effort. When the book touched down on the table, the elf heaved a sigh of relief and disappeared.
Draco stood to get a better look.
"Don't touch it," Lucius said, brandishing his wand. "It's cursed." He waved his wand and the pages turned, emitting a low rumbling. The yellowed pages were covered with an ornate writing Draco couldn't read. Lucius paused to study one page, then gestured with his wand. "Severus and I have been working to translate this spell for nearly a month."
Draco stared at the page. "What language is that?"
"An old one," Lucius said, still looking down at the page. "It's more than two thousand years old."
Draco squinted at his father. "What does the spell do?"
Lucius tore his eyes away from the page, something that appeared to take effort. "It does what we need to be done." He paused for a moment, so long Draco wondered if he would continue at all. "I am telling you this because I suspect Potter will try to kill the Dark Lord if he has the chance. That must not happen."
"I didn't think he could be killed," Draco said.
"Neither did I, but if Severus is correct, it is a possibility." Lucius turned toward Draco, his eyes hard. "This spell comes from a dark cult, one that cannibalized the magic of others to gain power for themselves." Lucius lowered his voice to a whisper, and Draco had to lean forward to understand him. "This spell will allow us to keep him alive and use him as a source of great power. Our cause has lost much during the Dark Lord's decline, but this will help us regain control. His close supporters are blinded to the madness that is consuming him."
"And they don't know of this plan," Draco said, staring at him. He hardly believed what he was hearing. "Are you certain this is possible?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"We will see," Lucius replied. "But this is why we need you, Draco. If Potter's plan is to kill the Dark Lord, you must intervene -- or we will lose everything we have worked for when he is destroyed."
+++++
Weasley was alone in the office when Draco arrived a little past 11:00.
"I was wondering if you'd show up," he said as Draco pulled his coat off. He frowned at the expression on Draco's face. "Are you all right?"
Draco sat behind his desk and sighed. "I think my father has gone mad."
"You've only just noticed?" Weasley quipped.
Draco pressed a hand to his forehead. "Do you know what their plan is, once we've trapped Voldemort?"
"Hypothetically trapped him," Weasley corrected, giving him a strange look. "Not really. We've just been told to incapacitate him. Why?"
Draco bit his lip and looked away. "I'll explain when Potter returns."
Weasley stared at him a moment more, then nodded and went back to reading the newspaper.
Draco sat at his desk, still reeling from what he'd learned. He'd thought they had little chance of capturing the Dark Lord at all. Killing someone who was immortal was hardly an option, unless Potter knew something the rest of them didn't. But what was this nonsense about using him as a power source? Draco pressed a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes.
Had he been brought here under a false pretense? Was Lucius lying to him, using him for some reason he couldn't yet see? Why would no one be honest with him?
"Good morning," he heard a voice say. He whirled in his seat to face the door, surprised. No one except the three of them had been in this room in the last two weeks, but a woman who had to be Cho Chang was standing just inside the door. She shrugged out of her smart wool coat and beamed at them.
"Look what the cat dragged in," Weasley said, smiling. "Where have you been?"
"Everywhere," she said, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder. She turned to Draco and smiled. "Draco Malfoy. I heard you were here. Nice to see you again."
Draco shot a look at Weasley, who seemed to understand his confusion at that remark. "Cho works in the intelligence services, so she knows everything that's going on."
"Hardly," she said, draping her coat over Potter's chair and leaning against his desk. "Where's Harry?"
"At the Ministry in a meeting," Weasley told her. His smile seemed forced. "Does he know you're back?"
"He ought to," she snorted. "I sent him an owl a week ago, but he hasn't written back once. He's going to have to take me out for a very nice dinner to make up for it."
"Oh, come on," Weasley said, winking at Draco. "You know how he is."
Draco smiled. He did indeed know how Potter was.
"Anyway, I dropped in to remind him that we've a reservation for tonight. I've no doubt he's forgotten that it's our anniversary."
Draco's smile faded. He saw Weasley glance at him and look back at Chang.
"Anniversary, eh?"
"Can you believe I've put up with him for an entire year?" she said with a dramatic sigh. "I cut things short to get back here in time, not that he'll appreciate it."
Weasley's eyes narrowed. "As much as you complain about him, I'm surprised you haven't moved on."
Chang laughed, flipping her hair again.
Draco felt as if he'd been punched in the gut.
And at that moment, Potter walked through the door. Everyone turned to look at him. From the expression on his face, he was quite surprised to see Chang standing there.
"Harry!" she cried, and flung her arms around him. Potter looked shocked, but plastered on an awkward smile when she pulled back to face him.
"You're back," he said, pointedly not looking at Draco.
"For a whole week," she said, straightening the collar of his shirt. "And you've forgotten what day it is, haven't you?" The expression on his face made it clear that he had. She made a sound of mock exasperation and kissed him. "It's a good thing I made all the arrangements, then. I'll drop by to pick you up at 7:00." She stepped back and grinned at Draco and Weasley. "I've got to run -- meetings all afternoon." With that, she disapparated.
The room was silent for several seconds. Potter had flushed red and was staring at the floor in front of him. Weasley looked uncomfortable.
Draco's heart had landed somewhere below his stomach. He took a deep breath, and then leveled a glare at Potter.
"You… have a girlfriend?"
Potter's face went from red to white. "Well… sort of."
"Sort of?" Draco repeated, shaking his head. He didn't know how to describe what he was feeling. It was all jumbled up in his chest, a mixture of rage and jealousy and disappointment, and it hurt. "You sort of have a girlfriend?"
"Draco--" Potter began.
"When the fuck were you going to mention this?" Draco asked. He was dimly aware that his voice was raised, but he didn't care.
"I think I'll just go out for a coffee," Weasley said, reaching for his coat. He didn't look at either of them as he disappeared through the door.
"Please don't," Potter said, leaning back against his desk.
"Don't what?" Draco retorted. "Don't get upset about this? Don't be angry that you deliberately misled me?"
"I never misled you," Potter snapped. "You never asked if I was dating anyone."
Draco gaped at him. "I figured the fact that you fucked me precluded the question!"
"It's not that serious," Potter replied, rubbing at his forehead with one hand. "It's just been a thing."
"It sounds pretty serious to me," Draco spat. "She seems to think so, at least."
Potter looked confused for a split second, and then scowled. "What do you care anyway? I thought this was just about sex."
It was a moment before Draco could reply. That comment hurt much more than he would have expected it to. "You know that's not true," he whispered. He couldn't bring himself to say any more.
Potter just stared at him, a strange look on his face. Neither of them said anything for several seconds. It was all Draco could do not to hurl himself at Potter, to hit him or shout at him, to throttle him for this.
He'd said himself that it meant nothing. He'd said it not two nights ago, and he'd meant it at the time. But it wasn't true -- it had meant something, something he hadn't admitted to himself until now.
"Fuck," Potter sighed at last, his voice rough. "I have to go back -- I just popped in to pick up some files. Can we talk later? Tonight?"
"You have a date," Draco replied, his voice flat. "It's your anniversary." He couldn't look at Potter, not now. He was actually relieved that Potter had to go; he didn't think he could bear to be in the same room with him much longer.
"Right," Potter said. "I'll… I have to go." He picked up a package from his desk and walked right through the door.
Draco sank into his chair, feeling numb.
+++++
Go to the next part
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 12:21 pm (UTC)*hugs you shoooo tight*
*goes read*
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Date: 2005-10-05 02:17 pm (UTC)onto more coherent thoughts... since the start of stg, ive noticed that slight little detail that draco has never succeeded having harry as bottom. in the back of my mind, perhaps you were saving it for a finale of sorts. but i never did expect the scene to be part of the 'prequel' which made the whole story, LMH included, twice as interesting specially when a few strings here and there from LMH slowly fit together with STG. *fangirls* ahh, ehem, ehem.
seeing draco fall for harry *technically for the first time* is perhaps the sweetest thing in the story. but i can't help but compare it all with what they thought was they're first encounter, first sex... just like two different stories but really just one. this just means they're meant for each other. *reached limit of coherence* hwahaha. YOU ROCK!!! <3
*will be anticipating for the next chapters till the end* ^^
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:2nd!
Date: 2005-10-05 12:23 pm (UTC)post-reading
Date: 2005-10-05 12:38 pm (UTC)oh no. now i've got to wait a WHOLE week for a new chapter. cries.
Re: post-reading
From:Re: post-reading
From:no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 12:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-06 03:38 am (UTC)Thanks, hon!
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 12:43 pm (UTC)Thanks for the double chapter Emma! It was fabulous! I totally feel for Draco though. Poor guy, he's falling in love, and Harry won't realize he's gay for another three years. At least I know they end up together in the end. Because this whole revelation thing won't split them up, right? Love will conquer all? Please?! I can't believe there's only three more weeks left! As sad as I am to see this end, I'm crazy excited to find out what happens! Until next week!
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Date: 2005-10-05 05:49 pm (UTC)Fascinating that Harry and Draco were together before they met, see it was written in the stars. ;)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 12:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 01:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 12:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-06 03:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 12:56 pm (UTC)Can't wait 'til Wednesday. Have fun @ Witching Hour!
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Date: 2005-10-06 03:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 01:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-06 03:44 am (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2005-10-05 01:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-06 03:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 01:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 01:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 01:18 pm (UTC)Great chapter and long. I was so happy to see it posted when I woke up and I had enough time to actually read it before going to work (as apposed to skimming through it in a hurry). Can't wait for next Wednesday and I hope things are going okay for you on your end.
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Date: 2005-10-05 01:36 pm (UTC)I have a kink for bad sex. Not the kind that makes you wince, but the kind that's realistic and shows that it's not always perfect and it's not always what the person needs -- and you do amazingly well. Cause you can make it hot, too :)
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Date: 2005-10-05 01:39 pm (UTC)*melts*
This was well worth the wait! And the smut was just... *melts some more*
I always love the first kiss scenes, and the one you just wrote was priceless! The tension... oh my.
Something very very VERY terrible must happen, since here Harry bottomed for Draco so easily but now he doesn't seem to get himself to do it at all... this suspension is killing me yet again. :D
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Date: 2005-10-05 01:45 pm (UTC)*gut-punched*
Cho did it! Cho did it! Cho did it all, the memory loss & the curse!!!
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Date: 2005-10-05 01:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 01:46 pm (UTC)NOOOOOO, poor Draco! What an ass Harry always turns out to be, much as I love him. But I'm a bit confused...are Harry and Cho married at this point or just dating?
Excellent chapter(s)! Superb first-time sex scene. Ooh, I just got a chill remembering it.
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Date: 2005-10-05 01:48 pm (UTC)That had me laughing for hours. All the girls in my classroom are staring at me and wondering what is so funny. Nosey little things.
Poor Draco. I'd so marry him if he wasn't fictional. And gay.
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Date: 2005-10-05 01:53 pm (UTC)Yay for double-chapter, btw.
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Date: 2005-10-05 02:09 pm (UTC)You write very well. You really can describe feelings and that makes your characters feel real.
What Harry did to Draco made me scream. Bloody Harry! Do you really think I can concentrate in my homework when I can't stop thinking what will happen to boys now? :D
Well, only one week left to next chapter (and few more to the end)..
((Thank God there is that spelling thing, I haven't written English for months. :p))
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Date: 2005-10-05 02:11 pm (UTC)I'll comment tomorrow after work sweetie. I can tell by the comments already that it's a fantastic chapter though. =p
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Date: 2005-10-06 11:59 am (UTC)Poor Draco =[
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Date: 2005-10-05 02:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 02:27 pm (UTC)The feelings and emotions of Draco in this part were so well written. As always, shown, not described. (and laconically - for example: "He'd intended to wank, but he didn't want to now.") Excellent work. My own stomach was in knots by the time Harry walked out of their office.
"It's not that serious," Potter replied, rubbing at his forehead with one hand. "It's just been a thing."
Harry, you bastard! All the tirade about not being able to sleeping with people casually! A ONE-YEAR thing?
no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 02:43 pm (UTC)This was great...I loved the fact that Harry once bottomed for Draco (even if he can't remember it now).
Poor Draco (falling in love)...and I'm really loathing Cho.
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Date: 2005-10-05 02:51 pm (UTC)I can't believe Harry didn't mention Cho to Draco. I was wondering when she was going to turn up...she is so annoying! Busting in like she owns the place and Harry too. I feel really bad for Draco.
I can't wait to see what happens next. Now I really feel like I have to go back and re-read STG...I just can't get over how complex this story is. You are an amazing writer!
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Date: 2005-10-05 02:54 pm (UTC)Harry and Draco, and he bottomed... Well, now we know why Cho is a bit pissed at Draco. And Ron is amazing, and...
*longs so much for next chapter*