Silence Breaks the Heart
Harry ran to the bedroom and locked the door behind him. So what if he was 'acting like a child'; he just didn't want to go. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he banged his head against the wood. He briefly thought about Apparating out of the room, but stopped when he realised that she would probably find him. She always did.
"Harry James Potter!" Hermione's shout caused Harry to bang his head again. He knew he would have to stop that habit soon; Hermione always said that he didn't have that much of a brain to lose.
"Harry!"
Harry banged his head again. For fuck's sake. She had brought Ginny with her. Harry was quite surprised that he hadn't heard another voice.
"Potter!"
Ah, there it was. Pansy. He sorely regretted ever introducing her to his friends.
"I'm not going," Harry shouted through the door, "and that's final!"
"Oh, yes, you are!" Hermione counteracted. "People are expecting you. You need to be there. This is important. You are not missing this."
Oh, yeah. The Hermione 'this is your duty speech'. Why did he not expect it? Every time was the same. Harry loved Hermione, but she just didn't understand that Harry just didn't want to go to these boring Ministry events; he didn't like being gawped at like an elephant in the zoo.
"Harry, please!" Ginny's voice was quiet and whiny; Harry knew what was coming next. "You promised me. I can't go to this thing on my own! They're going to laugh at me. Please, you promised Nev you'd look after me. He's away looking for his seeds, and I'm here all on my own."
Bloody hell. Did she ever think the guilt trip was going to work? Yes, it worked years ago, when Harry had felt guilty that he'd lost his feelings for Ginny, but the guilt trip hadn't worked in quite some time. He wasn't going to the stupid Anniversary Ball and that was that. Nothing was going to change his mind.
"Draco's going to be there."
Except that. Fuck. Why did he have to get pissed and tell Pansy all about his crush on Draco bloody Malfoy? Harry mentally kicked himself as he nearly opened the bedroom door.
"Not going to work, Pansy!" Harry congratulated himself on his self control.
"I persuaded him to wear the trousers, Harry. You know, the ones he always wears with the belt..."
Crap. Harry could practically hear her smirk. Not the belt. Harry gave into temptation and banged his head against the door again. Harry kept his head against the door as he thought about the object of his affections, and the man who wore it.
Harry had seen a lot of Draco in the last couple of months, and they had become friends. Not as close as Harry would've liked, but friends nonetheless. Draco usually dropped into work to speak to Pansy at least twice a week and they, along with their friends, had started socialising since Harry and Pansy had become quite close friends.
And Draco wore a belt. Not just any belt, but a black leather belt with an gorgeous eagle etched right into the silver buckle. Fuck, Harry liked that belt, and by extension, Draco. Well, if Harry was honest with himself, he liked Draco a little bit more than the belt, but not by much. It was a nice belt.
"Harry, please," Hermione's plea brought Harry fully out of his daydream. More's the pity. Harry was having fun in his daydream; undoing the buckle and sliding the belt through the loops of Draco's posh trousers.
"Harry!" Pansy shouted, bringing Harry fully back to his senses.
Harry knew that he approximately 90 seconds before Hermione broke through his locking spell and all three women forcibly dressed him.
Thoughts of Draco, and the belt, made Harry open the door before that could happen. Harry groaned as he caught sight his three favourite women. Hermione was holding up a three-piece suit, the colour of which he had been repeatedly told 'brought out his eyes'. Ginny had a set of expensive looking robes slung over her arm; Harry was slightly scared of the number of buttons along the front. Pansy was brandishing her wand, a hairbrush and a bottle of green goo. The bottle had a picture of a witch with long sleek locks on the side. Harry was petrified.
Harry's earlier thoughts of Apparating somewhere else came back to the front of his mind at the sight of three of his best friends and their instruments of torture. The looks on their faces didn't help as they advanced into his bedroom and pushed him into the chair beside the desk.
"Be gentle?" Harry pleaded wearily.
Pansy, Hermione and Ginny simply laughed as they got to work.
What felt like several hours later, Harry found himself primped and preened and with Ginny on his arm as they walked into the ballroom. The girls had worked their magic.
Harry's suit fit him perfectly. Harry wasn't sure about the whole 'matching his eyes' thing, but the girls had sighed when he had first put it on so Harry assumed it was a good thing. Green was green in Harry's book. Apparently, he was missing the point—well, he was still missing the point. Girls were crazy.
Ginny had taught him a rather cool spell for managing the forty nine—Harry couldn't help but count them—buttons on the robe. Harry had never been more grateful to learn something. The robe set his suit off magnificently. Well, according to Hermione it did anyway.
Harry's hair had never looked so good. In the end, it had taken two bottles of the green goo and a rather drastic haircut, but the results were amazing. Instead of his usual 'wash and go' mop, he now sported a fetching 'shag and go' style. Harry liked it. Pansy had already promised to keep him supplied with the green goo.
xxx
Harry was still apprehensive as he and Ginny made their way through the crowds. Hermione had refused to tell him what the ball was actually for. He knew it was for him, but there was usually something else to go along with it. Last year, it had been to announce the first annual Harry Potter day. Ron still thanked Harry—to Ron's amusement and Harry's embarrassment—for his extra day off work. The year before, it had been to award Harry his Order of Merlin. He hadn't minded that year so much, as Ron and Hermione had been on the podium with him, receiving theirs. The year before that had been just after Voldemort's death, and no one had really felt like celebrating. The Ministry had, rather stupidly, thought that throwing a Celebration Ball while most of the wizarding world were still grieving their loved ones was a good idea.
As Harry and Ginny approached the middle of the ballroom, Harry spotted something that had him turning around, ready to flee. He, at the very least, had a strong urge to bang his head repeatedly against something hard and door-shaped.
Standing at least forty feet tall, was a red velvet curtain. Harry wasn't worried about the curtain, no. That was just a curtain. Harry was worried what was behind the curtain. What could it be? A painting? A plaque? Oh, Merlin. A statue?
Ginny had obviously anticipated Harry's reaction as she gripped his arm stronger. "Harry. Stay."
"I'm not a dog, Gin." Harry poked his tongue out at her and received the same in return.
"Now, now, children. Play nice."
Harry turned slowly to look at the smirking face of the man who spoke. He forced himself to not automatically look down at the man's waist.
"Shut up, Draco." Ginny poked her tongue out at Draco as well. "We're just making light of a very dire situation. Harry has spotted the thing."
"Well, of course he's seen it. How can you miss it?" Pansy winked at Harry before wrapping her arms around Draco's bicep.
Harry poked his tongue out at her as well. He did take a moment to wonder when he had regressed to a child, but quickly disregarded it. After all, Pansy had started it.
"Hi, everyone!" Hermione greeted as she and Ron joined their group. "I'm guessing Harry has seen the thing."
"Yes, I've seen it. And now I'll just be leaving."
Harry moved to walk away and found himself surrounded on all sides by his friends.
"Sorry, mate," Ron said gravely. "We're here for the night. we've been threatened—told—to keep you here by any means necessary."
Ron finished by smiling brightly at Hermione. She smiled sweetly in return, but Harry could tell she hadn't missed Ron's slip.
"But—"
"Harry." Hermione had her patient teacher's voice with her. "It's just one night. You don't even know what the thing is."
"But—"
Harry's next attempt at an excuse to leave was thwarted by the only reason Harry was there.
"Come on," Draco said, taking Harry by the arm and leading him towards the bar, "if we have to be here, we are not staying sober. Come on, Weasley. Let's leave the girls to it."
Harry completely missed the knowing smiles on all of his friend's faces. He was intent on getting to the bar. Draco was right: staying sober was not an option.
Once the three of them were sat at a table, Harry took a long gulp of his Firewhisky. "So, did you two try and get out of this evening's festivities?"
"Of course not," Ron replied quickly. "We're here to support and celebrate our friend in his—" Ron broke off and raised an eyebrow at Draco. "I forgot the rest."
"We're here to support you in your successes and help you realise your hopes for the future," Draco said. "And some other crap that the girls tried to drum into us."
"So, yes, you tried to get out of it?" Harry asked with a laugh.
Ron and Draco smiled and nodded sheepishly. Harry felt better.
"Are you going to tell me about the thing? Or do I have to wait until the grand unveiling?" Harry asked.
"Our lips are sealed," Ron insisted.
"Hey, did you know I got tickets for the Wimbourne match?" Draco was obviously trying to change the subject. Harry would have loved to have known what the girls had threatened them with.
"That's brilliant. Should be a good game. Now, the thing?"
"You'll see," was the only answer Draco gave him.
Harry did see. Two hours, and more than a few Firewhiskys, later, the Minister clinked his glass and asked for silence. Harry would have escaped there and then if not for Pansy and Ginny blocking him. Hermione's stern 'would it kill you, Harry?' look made him look sheepish and give his attention to the—probably boring—speech that Kingsley was making.
"Welcome to the fourth annual Anniversary Ball! I trust you all enjoyed your Harry Potter day."
Harry groaned as cheers sounded all around him—including Ron. People were leaning over each other to pat Harry on the back, and Harry gave Kingsley a look that he hoped showed his irritation. Kingsley must have taken the hint as he cleared his throat and once again called for silence.
"Without further ado, please allow me to unveil a present to Harry Potter, and to all of us. This piece was commissioned by the Ministry and paid for by a very generous donor. Thank you, from all of us, once again, Mr Malfoy."
Harry turned to find his supposed friend. Draco looked slightly apologetic. "You'll see," Draco mouthed to Harry.
Kingsley swished his wand, and the curtain disappeared. Harry was shocked. He apologised to Draco in his mind as he looked at the painting. If Harry was completely honest, he was expecting a painting of himself, and by the looks on many of the Ministry officials' faces, they were expecting to see the same.
It was a painting, and it was beautiful. Harry inexplicably found himself blinking back tears as he spotted the faces of the people he, and many others, had lost. His mum and dad, Fred, Tonks, Professor Lupin, Dumbledore. They were all there, along with so many others, many of which he couldn't identify. The plaque at the foot of the painting stated that the piece was called 'The Price'. Harry couldn't think of a more fitting name for it.
"We would like to ask Mr Potter to come up and say some words, if he doesn't mind."
Harry was surprised that he actually didn't mind. He just had to think of something to say. Ignoring the looks of shock on his friends' faces, Harry walked onto the stage.
"The only thing I can say," Harry began after the crowd had quietened, "is thank you. Thank you to Draco, the Ministry and the artist—whoever it is. It is perfect."
At his words, Kingsley gestured to his side and Dean Thomas stepped onto the stage, to cheers and calls from the crowd. Dean winked at Harry before bowing slightly. Harry resisted the urge to poke his tongue out at his friend; he was on stage, after all.
"Thank you, Dean," Harry said after the applause had died down once more. "It's beautiful, and the title is very fitting. The price we paid for a safe and happy world might have been too high, but it was the price we paid and it needed to be acknowledged. Thank you, again, and have a good night."
The applause was deafening as Harry stepped down off the stage with Dean at his side. Hermione was beaming at him with tears in her eyes. Ginny, Pansy and even more surprisingly, Ron, seemed to be in much the same boat. Draco simply slapped him on the back and veered the group back to their table.
"Why?" Harry asked Draco once they were all settled in their seats.
Draco smiled. "There was talk in the office of a grand piece of art to be unveiled tonight. It was going to be a statue or a portrait of you. We thought that you probably wouldn't like it. They were also worrying about how they were going to fund it, so I offered to pay for it, as long as we had the final decision on the subject matter. Hermione used her place as your best friend for clout and Dean offered to do the actual painting."
"Thank you," Harry said again. "All of you."
"You're welcome," Draco said. "Now. I think you owe me a drink."
Harry laughed and got his money pouch out. It was time to get pissed.
xxx
Harry hummed a tune while he unlocked the shop and got ready for the day. Harry loved Monday mornings. He was well aware that he was probably on his own, but Harry loved his job and couldn't wait to get back to it after the weekend. Having quit Auror training before it had even started, Harry had started his business by accident.
After deciding that the life of an Auror was not one for him, Harry had left the Ministry and walked to his favourite tea shop for a pecan pie and a cuppa. When he had reached the run down shop that had been happily serving him without fanfare since he'd left Hogwarts, Harry was aghast to see the 'CLOSED' sign on the window. After reading the small writing underneath, Harry was saddened to read about the death of Brenda, the lovely old witch that had run the shop. Noticing people milling about inside, Harry decided to pay his respects in person, and knocked on the door.
Half an hour later, Harry was the proud owner of his very own tea shop. Or, as he preferred it to be called—for it sounded so much more manly—his very own café.
The news that Harry Potter had opened a café had spread like wildfire throughout the wizarding world. Witches and wizards had come from miles around to be served tea by him. Harry had never expected so many customers; he had assumed it would have been just as it was when he was a customer—some shoppers needing a rest and maybe a few regulars. He was very very wrong. As a consequence, he now counted Pansy Parkinson as his most treasured employee, and a very close friend.
Pansy had come into the shop one day, not long after he had re-opened, hoping to apologise for her actions in the Great Hall before the final battle. She was very insistent and refused to leave until she'd apologised properly. Harry had snapped that if she was truly sorry, she'd get her arse behind the counter and help him out. She truly was, so she did. And she never left. It was a running joke between the two of them that one day, Harry would finally accept her apology and she could go and get a 'proper job'.
Harry looked at the clock and noted that any proper employer would probably have sacked her by now. It was ten past nine, and Harry was bracing himself for the half nine, pre-shopping, post breakfast rush. And Pansy was late as usual. Harry decided that Pansy was probably nursing a hangover, or maybe entertaining one her boy toys, and thought he'd better contact someone to help him out.
As he was finishing writing a note to one of his other employees, the bell above the shop door tinkled and Pansy breezed in.
"Sorry, Harry!" she called as she took off her cloak. "Someone held me up."
"Don't tell me. Bradley? Frederick?"
"No, it was me actually."
Harry dropped his quill. "Draco?" he asked incredulously.
"Oh, put your tongue back in, Harry." Pansy laughed as she put on her apron. "Not like that. You know that I'm not Draco's type."
"Brunette?" Harry asked.
"Woman." Pansy looked at Harry with a funny look on her face.
"Oh, yeah." Harry had the good grace to blush; he could be so stupid at times. "Sorry," he added to Draco.
"Now, if you've finished with your idiot act for this morning, we are about to be bombarded with a hoard of Hufflepufferish old women, all wanting to be served tea by the great Harry Potter himself."
"Hufflepufferish?"Harry mouthed at Draco. Draco shrugged.
"So," Pansy continued, "you will either get behind the counter and start brewing, or you can get out."
Ah, Harry remembered why he kept Pansy around. Efficient was her middle name. Well, it was actually Elladora, but you didn't mention that if you liked your balls where they were supposed to be.
"Draco," Harry said once he had followed Pansy's order and resumed his place behind the counter. "What can I get you? Or are you just here to harass the staff?"
"I'll have a latte to take away, please," Draco said. "And if you could take my meetings this morning, that would be great."
Harry laughed as he fixed Draco's drink. Draco always moaned about his job at the Ministry, but Harry knew full well how much he actually enjoyed it. Apparently, the Undersecretary to the Minister for Wizard-Muggle Relations was a thrilling job to have.
"See you later?" Draco asked.
Harry assumed that Draco was talking to Pansy, so he busied himself with his teapots.
"Yes, we'll be here," Pansy answered. "Honestly Harry," she added once the door closed behind Draco.
"What?" Harry asked. He was very confused.
"If you don't know—"
"Yes, yes," Harry interrupted, "you're not telling me."
xxx
Harry had never seen so much of Draco as he had in the past few weeks. He was used to Draco popping in once or twice a week on his way to work for his morning coffee and a quick chat, and Draco usually dropped by on a Friday to see what plans he and Pansy had for the weekend. But recently, Draco had been in the café nearly every day. Harry thought that Draco might be getting a slight caffeine addiction. Harry had tried to talk to Pansy about it, but she was no use at all. Unless you counted an eye roll and the usual 'If you don't know' line as helpful. Which Harry didn't.
As Harry opened the shop, and wondered whether Pansy would turn up today—it was a Monday, after all—Harry was startled by the tinkle of the bell above the door. It was too early for customers—the CLOSED sign was still showing—and it was much too early for his erstwhile staff to arrive.
"Morning, Harry!"
"Draco," Harry said, shock clear in his voice. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," Draco replied. "I just thought I'd pop in. I have to be in work early this morning."
"Pansy's not in yet."
Draco laughed. "I didn't expect her to be. It isn't her I wanted to see."
Harry was confused. Yes, he and Draco were friends, but Draco usually only popped in when Pansy was about; Harry assumed that he had always wanted to see her.
"Um, did you want a coffee?"
"No."
"Cup of tea?"
"No."
"Pastry? Toasted teacake?"
Draco shook his head. "No. I wanted to see you."
"Oh."
Draco grinned and his cheeks were tinged with pink. "Yes, oh."
"You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, Harry. I wanted to see you. I wanted to ask you if you fancied going out tonight. Just me and you."
Harry had never seen Draco looking so nervous. Harry really was stupid sometimes. The many visits. Draco always sitting next to him in the pub. The talking. The smiles. The touching of Harry's arm. Pansy's eye rolling made sense now.
"Yes, I'd love to," Harry answered with a smile.
"Good. I have to go now, but I'll owl you later. And Harry? I'll even wear the belt."
Harry gaped as Draco left the café. His mind was in a daze. He knew one thing for sure, though. He was going to fucking kill Pansy.
Pansy walked in about half an hour after Draco had left. She took one look at Harry's smiling face and demanded to know what had happened.
"Finally!" she cried when Harry had confirmed that Draco had asked him out. "Now, what time shall we come over?"
"What? Who? What?"
"Me, Hermione and Ginny," Pansy explained. "You'll need us to make you look good, yes?"
Harry was about to disagree until he realised, that yes, he would be needing to look his best. Draco would more than likely want to go somewhere upmarket and Harry didn't want to be feeling out of place. And his own delivery of green goo hadn't arrived yet.
"Six o'clock?" Harry said with a shrug. "And Pansy?" he added. "What exactly did you tell Draco about me?"
Pansy tied on her apron. "Better make it half five. I'll just go and owl the girls," she said, blatantly ignoring the question. "You'd better get the tea started. It's nearly half nine."
xxx
Harry had been nervous about Draco coming in for his lunch. Which, he knew, was silly. After all, Draco had been popping in on a daily basis for weeks. Everything seemed different now; a good different. Harry now knew that Draco had been in to see him, not Pansy, and that thought made Harry tingle just thinking about it.
He hadn't need to worry; Draco's owl had come just before the lunchtime rush, telling Harry that he would be in a meeting all day, that he would see him at eight and giving the address of the pub he wanted to meet at. After Harry—and Pansy—had read the note, he gradually got more and more nervous about the evening ahead. Harry was used to being out with Draco—they spent most weekends in each other's company, after all—but this would be the first time that it would be just the two of them.
Pansy had finally snapped after three hours of Harry asking her what she thought the night would entail. She had Silenced him and told him—in detail—what Draco usually did on his dates.
Oh, shit.
Harry had had to sit down as the thought hit him. He had a date with Draco Malfoy. And, more than likely, Pansy—and by extension, Hermione and Ginny—would know every single thing about it by the next day. Who knew that Draco was such a blabbermouth?
At half five precisely, Harry closed the café and was immediately Apparated away by three very eager women. He hadn't even seen Hermione and Ginny arrive, but they must have been waiting outside the shop to ambush him. Why they were so excited to dress him up, he'd never know.
Knowing that it would be easier if he just sat back and let them do their work, Harry did just that. Following the girls to his bedroom, Harry sat back in his chair and waited for them to work their magic.
Without Harry struggling, his makeover was done in half the time. His hair was looking newly-shagged—seriously, why didn't they just call it that on the bottle?—and his clothes once again 'brought out his eyes'. Harry was grateful for the lack of robes, though. He was much too nervous to be worrying about buttons.
When the girls proclaimed him to be completely ready, Harry looked at the clock and noticed that, even if he walked to the pub, he would still be half an hour early. He stood up at the girls' urging and slowly turned around. Pansy had a gleam in her eye, Ginny was pretending to swoon and Hermione looked as if she was about to deliver a 'be careful' speech. Pansy must have noticed it as well, as she grabbed Hermione by the elbow and pulled her towards the door.
"Have a great night," Ginny said, kissing his cheek. "Go get him."
Hermione nodded and blew him a kiss. Pansy winked at Harry before the three of them left him alone. Harry waved them goodbye and slumped down on the bed. He quickly jumped up and sat up straight as Pansy's words—'Creases are not your friend, Harry!' —rang in his ears.
Deciding that he'd rather be early than sit about in his house waiting, Harry threw on his best cloak and left the house. The pub they were meeting in wasn't far from his house, so Harry walked instead of Apparating. As he predicted, he was very early. To his surprise, as he walked into the pub, he spotted Draco already sitting at the bar, sipping a glass of whiskey. Steeling his nerves, Harry walked towards him.
"Hi, Draco," Harry said, tapping him on the shoulder.
Draco nearly fell off his chair. "Harry!" He looked at the clock. "You're early."
"So are you."
"Oh." Draco blushed slightly. "I was ready, so I thought I'd come and..." Draco trailed off and gestured to his drink.
"Get pissed without me?" Harry offered.
"Hardly," Draco snorted. "I've only had the one. What does Hermione call it? Dutch courage?"
Harry's heart warmed as Draco as good as admitted that he was also nervous. Draco gestured to the barman for two more drinks, so Harry took the time to look around the small pub for an empty table. Harry had thought Draco would've booked a table somewhere with menus written in French and prissy waiters. Instead, they had met in a pub Harry was familiar with—it was the same one they usually met in to start off their Friday night outs. Harry didn't know how to feel about that.
Accepting the drink from the barman, Harry nodded his thanks and followed Draco to a table in the corner of the pub. Harry took his cloak off and folded it over the back of his chair.
"You look very nice," Draco said as Harry sat down.
"Nice?" Harry teased. "I think the girls would take offence to nice."
"Ah, I thought you'd scrubbed up a little too well." Draco smirked and undid his jacket. "Gorgeous, then."
"Gorgeous," Harry repeated, his eyes not leaving Draco's waist. Draco was wearing the belt.
Harry was brought out of his belt-induced daze by the sound of Draco laughing. "What is it about this thing?"
"What? No. Um, what?"
"Pansy mentioned you liked the belt. Would you like it? Or I have a couple that are similar."
"No!" Harry said quickly. "I like you. In the belt. The belt suits you. Just you. Not me. And I'll shut up now." Harry blushed and downed his drink. "I'll go and get some refills."
Harry used his time at the bar to calm himself down and berate himself for acting like an idiot schoolboy. Surely he should be past the babbling stage at his age. Harry couldn't count the number of dates he's been on; surely he should know how to do it by now. Harry needed a strong Hover Charm to carry the tray of drinks back. After all, he only had two hands, and he'd bought four whiskeys, two beers, four shots—that were smoking—and two bottles of wine.
Draco's mouth dropped comically at the sight of Harry's bulging tray. "What the—?"
Harry shrugged. "I didn't know what you wanted. I thought I'd cover all bases."
Draco laughed. "You could have just asked."
Harry reddened once more. "Ssh. At least we don't need to go to the bar for a while."
"If we're going to drink all of this, we might need some food." Draco grabbed a menu off the table next to them. "What do you want?"
After they'd ordered their food, Harry plucked a beer off the tray and held it into the air. "What should we toast?"
"Us? Finally getting a clue?" Draco clinked his glass to Harry's. "Or we could just toast the great Harry Potter's belt kink."
Harry, unfortunately, had just taken a gulp of his beer, and he struggled to swallow it instead of spitting it all over Draco. "That's enough about that," he said laughing. "I'm sure you've got a kink in there somewhere."
"Of course," Draco said, picking another drink up from the tray. "I have a thing for dark-haired, green-eyed, tea shop owners."
Once again, Harry tried to swallow his drink. Fuck. What was he supposed to say to that? "It's a café, actually."
"Who said I was talking about you?" Draco raised an eyebrow and smirked.
Harry laughed. As he did so, he thought about the one thing missing from the evening: the awkward 'getting to know each other' first-date talk. Harry was so relieved; he never liked that part anyway. He and Draco already knew almost everything about each other. Background, family—although, that wasn't being discussed this evening, if Harry could help it—work, friends. The laughter and teasing were natural parts of their usual nights out. The talking, the laughing—it came easily; it was fantastic.
Their talking and laughing continued as they ate their meals and finished off the drinks on the tray. Draco had gallantly downed the first of the smoking shots. Harry had sniffed it, coughed and refused. Draco had grabbed the shot out of his hand and gulped it down in one. Not to be outdone, Harry took another off the tray and did the same.
They had opened the wine—which Draco had commended Harry on—while they were eating. Harry hadn't had the heart to tell Draco that he had only picked the wine because the name made him giggle. Somebody who would name their brand 'Elephant on a Tightrope' deserved his business.
Harry was feeling pleasantly tipsy, and with every sip of wine, he felt bolder. As he looked into Draco's smiling eyes, Harry knew that he wanted to do nothing more than kiss the man right there in the middle of the pub. Harry reached out a hand and entwined his fingers with Draco's. Draco leant forward and Harry was seconds away from fulfilling his dream.
"Harry! How good to see you!"
Both Harry and Draco looked forlorn at the interruption. The booming voice came closer and Harry reluctantly sat back in his chair, still holding on to Draco's hand. Zacharias Smith had tried his best to ingratiate himself with Harry and his friends recently. He had taken over from his uncle's estate agents, and kept trying to persuade the group to buy a new house. He was nice enough, but slightly over the top at times.
"Zach, hi. You know Draco."
"Yes, I do." Zach looked at Draco once, sneered and gave Harry all of his attention. "How are you? What are you up to?"
Harry looked incredulously up at the man. What the fuck did he think we're doing? "We're having dinner."
"Oh, you look like you've finished. I'll go and grab myself a chair."
"Zach, we're—"
Zach ignored Harry's protests and went off in search of a spare seat.
"Forget about him, Harry. Now, where were we?" Draco asked, leaning over the table to kiss Harry.
Harry forgot all about Zach. His mind could only process the fact that he was kissing Draco. It was living up to all of Harry's dreams. Fuck, he thought he could kiss Draco forever.
"Oh!"
Harry pulled away from Draco to see Zach standing beside the table, chair in hand and a gob-smacked expression on his face.
"Sit down, Zach." Draco gestured to the empty space at the side of the table. "I'll just move this—oh, I'm so sorry!"
Zach had barely placed his chair down when Draco had accidentally knocked his full glass of wine over the table. The red wine splashed right down the front of Zach's suit. Who the fuck wore a white suit anyway?
Zach shouted in protest and tried to dab at the growing stain with a napkin. Harry nearly missed the wink that Draco shot in his direction.
"I'm so sorry! You'd better go home and get your suit seen to," Draco said. "You'd don't want it to ruin. You know spells won't help with wine stains."
Zach looked at their still-joined hands, and nodded. "I think I will. Nice to see you, Harry. Fire-call me!"
"What was that about?" Harry asked as Zach ran out of the pub.
"I have no idea." Draco grinned. "And I don't really care."
Harry smiled. Right answer. "Now, I think you need more wine. And I think we were in the middle of something."
"Which did you want first?" Draco asked with a wink.
In answer, Harry leaned in and kissed Draco again. Draco curled his hand around Harry's jaw and Harry thought he couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather be.
"Uh-hm!"
The loud cough from the next table caused Harry to rethink that. Maybe he could take being with Draco somewhere a little more private. Laughing, Harry and Draco once again reluctantly moved apart.
"I'll just get the wine," Draco said, standing up. He obviously tried to glare at the man who had dared to interrupt them, but the smile on his face diminished it considerably. Harry thought it best not to say anything.
Draco was back within moments, bottle in one hand and two fresh glasses dangling from his other. He poured the drinks, and the two men were soon engrossed once more in conversation, all thoughts of Zach and his strange behaviour gone.
After an hour, Harry picked up the bottle and attempted to pour it into their glasses. A few drops was all that was left, and Harry tipped the bottle up with a frown on his face. "More?" he asked Draco.
"I think I've had enough wine," Draco said, standing up on shaky legs. "As a matter of fact, I think I need some air."
Harry gaped before standing up from his seat and grabbing his cloak. Taking Draco's offered hand, Harry all but pulled him out of the pub; the cold air hit him immediately, sobering him up slightly. Pausing to put on his cloak, Harry turned to ask Draco where he wanted to go next, but instead his breath hitched at the sight of Draco lounging against the wall, biting on his bottom lip.
Harry didn't know whether it was the alcohol, the adrenaline or simply his horniness, but he took one look at Draco and stepped forward. Putting his hands on either side of Draco's face, Harry pushed slightly so that Draco was flush against the wall.
"Fuck, I've wanted to do this for so long," Harry whispered before raising his lips to kiss Draco fully.
Kissing Draco was better than Harry could have ever had imagined. And kissing him against a wall was so much better than awkward kisses over a pub table. Their noses bumped and their tongues battled and it was fucking fantastic. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him close. Harry slipped one hand into Draco's hair and deepened the kiss; one leg sliding between Draco's. Gasping, Draco slid his arms down until his hands were resting on Harry's arse.
Harry pulled away from Draco, breathing heavily. "Your place or mine?" he asked with a grin on his face.
"Aren't we presumptuous?" Draco replied, grinning. "Yours. Mine contains people I'd rather not see just now."
Even the thought of Lucius Malfoy walking around in his pyjamas was not enough to dampen Harry's arousal. "Ready?" he asked.
Draco nodded and held on to Harry tighter. Harry laughed.
"Lazy bugger," Harry said, lessening the comment with a kiss. "It's only around the corner. We're walking. And I can't guarantee we'd get there in one piece if we Apparated. I'm told that Splinching on a first date leaves a bad impression."
Harry was expecting at least a small grumble at that, but Draco surprised him by simply taking his hand and following him down the path. The walk took longer than Harry thought it would, and he was feeling the cold. It might not have taken so long had they been slightly less drunk and not stopping every couple of steps for chaste snogs. It was only when they were in sight of his house did Harry think to do a Warming Charm.
Harry thought he would be more nervous as they entered the house, but he wasn't. He would've blamed his new-found confidence on the alcohol, but he knew it wasn't true. He and Draco had simply clicked, and Harry couldn't wait to find out exactly how compatible they were.
After unlocking the door, Harry showed Draco into the living room. Harry barely gave Draco time to appreciate it before kissing him again. "Drink?" he asked once he paused for breath.
"Bed," came the simple reply from Draco.
Harry didn't need to be told twice. Taking Draco by the hand, Harry led him into his bedroom; he only hoped Kreacher had thought to tidy up after the girls makeover session.
Seeing the mountain of discarded shirts and trousers gone from the bed, Harry sighed in relief. Harry unclasped his cloak and threw it in the direction of the chair, not caring whether it landed on the floor or not. Reaching for Draco's shirt, Harry whimpered when Draco stepped back.
"Allow me," Draco said, drawing his wand. "Removere Vestum!"
Harry felt the cold rush of air across his skin and was surprised to see himself stark naked. He was definitely going to have to learn that spell. He stepped forward and pulled Draco down for another kiss, a sigh escaping his mouth as his bare cock brushed the soft fabric of Draco's trousers.
"What about you?"
"Hmm. Get on the bed," Draco said between kisses, "and enjoy the show."
Harry stopped his attempts at Draco's buttons suddenly and his mouth opened in shock. How the hell could he be so lucky? A strip-show from the man he'd been gawping at for months? Harry had to resist the urge to pinch himself; he was sure he must have been dreaming. At Draco's gentle nudge, Harry released him and climbed onto the bed, propping himself up against the pillows. He was damn sure not going to miss a second of it.
Draco started with his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. At the first sight of Draco's arms, covered only by the thin material of his shirt, Harry's cock gave a twitch. If there was one thing Harry found attractive on a man, it was his arms. Well built, but not too muscular, arms were definitely his downfall.
Harry was so focused on Draco's upper body, that he had nearly missed the part he had been most looking forward to. Draco had obviously taken off his shoes and socks—that must have been when the arms had been flexing, he thought with a happy sigh—as he was now unbuckling his belt.
Oh, fuck.
It was hotter than Harry ever could have imagined. The clink of the heavy metal buckle against the clasp caused his cock to give another twitch, but the sight and sound of the leather sliding through the loops of Draco's trousers made him kneel up on the bed and move towards Draco. He needed to watch the rest of Draco's impromptu strip-show closely.
Harry barely registered the thunk of the belt hitting his floor as Draco had moved on to undoing his trousers. Harry's lip darted out to wet his suddenly dry lips as Draco's zip was lowered and the trousers fell to the floor with a simple wiggle of Draco's hips.
Draco's shirt covered his groin, but Harry could see the outline of Draco's cock straining against the white material. Harry had never felt so horny in all his life. Draco started undoing each button of his shirt in turn, and Harry didn't know whether to tell him to speed up or just sit back and enjoy watching each inch of Draco's chest being uncovered bit by bit.
Not content with simply watching, Harry took his own cock in hand and stroked slowly, a whispered spell giving him the sleekness that he needed. Draco's hands sped up, and his shirt fell open, giving Harry his first glimpse of Draco's cock. Draco reached down to pull down his pants, and Harry gasped. He had never seen himself as a cockwhore before, but at the sight of Draco's springing from the tight pants, Harry wanted nothing more than to suck it, lick it, to devour every inch of it.
Draco obviously had the same idea as Harry, as he started to climb onto the bed. Harry allowed himself to be pushed back onto the bed as Draco climbed on top of him and leant down to kiss him once more.
"Shirt," Harry gasped as Draco licked and sucked at his neck.
"No," Draco murmured, continuing down Harry's chest with his mouth.
Harry was confused; aroused, but very confused. Why the fuck wouldn't he—?
"Oh," Harry said as the answer hit him. He gently pushed Draco back slightly so he could sit up. "Is it the thing?"
"Fuck." Draco sat up fully, but didn't climb off Harry's lap. "Yes. I meant to talk to you. You know, before we got this far. I didn't know this would happen. We got carried away. I'll—"
Harry cut him off with a kiss. "I know you have one, Draco. I saw it at your trial. It doesn't bother me. It's just a scar, like mine."
"Harry—"
"No, it is. You didn't ask for it." Harry removed Draco's shirt completely before throwing it off the bed. He lifted Draco's left arm and placed a gentle kiss on the wrist. Draco gasped as Harry ran his tongue slowly up his forearm.
"Harry?"
"Draco." Harry looked up into Draco's eyes. "Let me do this."
Harry didn't know exactly why he was doing what he was, but he knew that he needed to do it. When he wasn't busy, he would have to think it through. Hermione would probably say that it was an act against Voldemort or something. Harry, at that precise moment, simply thought it was fucking hot.
Draco lifted Harry's face to his. "Spell?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Harry shook his head. "Not a chance. I'm going to enjoy every second of this."
As he finished speaking, he flipped them so that Draco lay sprawled under him, and reached into the bedside drawer for his favourite oil. He knocked off the lid with his thumb and Draco sniffed the air.
"What is that?" he asked with a small laugh.
"Pina Colada," Harry replied. "It's very tasty. Now, turn over."
Draco's eyes lit up before he hastily complied. Harry grinned. He was going to enjoy every singly second of this. Harry drizzled the flavoured oil down the centre of Draco's back, causing Draco to gasp and wriggle slightly. Harry stilled him by placing his hands on Draco's hips and licking a stripe straight through the puddle that had settled on Draco's arched back.
Draco groaned and Harry, pleased at the noise, licked again. When he had lapped up all the liquid, Harry tipped the bottle over a little lower, causing the oil to drip between Draco's legs. Harry moaned at the sight and placed his hands onto Draco's arse, opening him up so he could watch the oil dripping onto Draco's hole and down towards his bollocks.
Harry couldn't wait any longer; he slid down the bed and buried his face between Draco's arse cheeks.
"Fuck!" Harry groaned as he pulled up for some air
Draco echoed the cry as Harry continued in his task. He rose up slightly on his knees and bucked his hips, pushing his arse into Harry's face. Harry slid a finger past his tongue and Draco stilled for a second before bucking once more. Harry pushed another finger in and Draco screamed. Harry stopped moving the hand embedded in Draco's arse, and moved his other around to reach for his cock. Once Draco started moving his hips again, Harry fucked him with his fingers as he fisted his cock. The feel of Draco's arse was almost too much for Harry; he needed to fuck him, and he needed to do it soon.
"Now, Harry!" Draco cried out.
Harry didn't pause. He released Draco's cock, slid his fingers out and coated his own cock with the slippery oil. Giving Draco's arse one last kiss, he lined his hard cock up with Draco's ready hole.
"No." Harry stopped suddenly, sitting back on his heels.
Draco turned around to look at him, a worried frown on his face.
"I need to watch you," Harry said, and Draco let loose a sigh. "I've waited too long for this."
Harry thought Draco would lie on his back, but he didn't. He pushed at Harry so that he was lying on his back and straddled him once more.
"Good plan," Draco said as he slid his willing body down onto Harry's cock.
Harry placed his hands back onto Draco's hips, making him stay still. Harry really didn't want to be coming just yet. When he thought that he could continue without immediately coming, Harry released Draco's hips and wrapped his still-slick hand around Draco's cock, fisting it in time to Draco's rhythm.
Despite his best efforts, Harry could feel himself starting to come within minutes. Draco must've noticed this as he sped up his movements, causing Harry to speed his hand up. Draco came with Harry's name on his lips, shooting pearly streams over Harry's hand and chest. Harry finally let himself go; moaning loudly and filling Draco's arse with his come.
Draco slowly lifted his arse, allowing Harry's spent cock to slip out. Flopping onto the bed beside Harry, he groaned. "Worth the wait?" he asked with a laugh.
"Definitely," Harry answered with a smile. "Now, I need to sleep."
Draco nodded and yawned before turning over. Harry wrapped his arm around Draco's waist, squeezing slightly so Draco back was flush with his chest. Harry's wet cock slid into the slippery crack of Draco's arse and Harry groaned.
"I thought you wanted to sleep?"
Harry laughed, placed a kiss on Draco's neck and closed his eyes.