Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and its characters are not mine.
Warning: R for mild sexual content
A/N: Happy Birthday, Draco! This is a tale of sweet nothings to ward off the gloom for a while.
In the House of Moths, I Dream of Blue Roses
The clock struck twelve, the hour when the magic cast upon Cinderella vanished into bubbles and ashes of yesterday. In a certain sleepy urban neighbourhood, orange street-light liken to jack-o'-lanterns cast a pool of circular glow on the pavement. Above, the omelette moon shone upon the silhouette of terraced houses and trimmed gardens. No other light could be seen except a dim glow from an open window on the second floor of a certain house.
Had anyone bothered to look out the window and peer into the semi-darkness, one might make out the strange vision of a boy flying in the air on a broomstick. His complexion fair and his features resembling chiselled ice, the boy could have been a being fallen from the moon. Gravitating towards the only light source on the ground, he pulled up beside the window. The occupant of the room, a bespectacled boy with hair unruly as a crow's nest and eyes green as a lizard, was unperturbed. Resting his elbows on the window-sill, the brunette put on a playful grin that brightened his boyish countenance.
"I don't recall ordering any special delivery," Harry said, eyeing the khaki bag slung over the wizard's shoulder. "Or perhaps you want to run away with me?"
"Correction," drawled the unlikely prince made of frost and snow. Extending one alabaster hand to Harry in invitation, Draco smiled a conspiring smile. "I'm here to kidnap you."
In no uncertain term, the blond wizard whisked the hapless youth away from his prison of a home to an abandoned house in the mountains up north.
Wrapped in Draco's cloak, for it was cool on the mountainside at night, Harry looked around the room while Draco spread a blanket in front of the fireplace. A pair of windows, one boarded up and one unsealed, were frozen in a perpetual wink. A moth-eaten sofa was pushed to the corner; a rotting wooden mantelpiece framed the disused fireplace; peeling wallpapers added to the image of desolation. "What? No ropes, no blindfold, no handcuffs?" Harry teased.
"Oh? Is that the kind of game you want to play, Mr Potter?" Draco gave his best impression of a cool blond while pulling one item after another from his bag of tricks. "I heard candle wax is in fashion."
"Allow me to decline the offer," Harry said in earnest and slipped away to explore the rest of the house.
Once upon a time, this house might have been a lovely haven. Nevertheless, disrepair and neglect had worn away much of its vitality. The floor creaked like old man's bones when Harry took a step. Cobwebs, dry leaves and dirt riddled the corridor. Rusty door hinges squeaked in the tradition of horror films. A dusty grand piano languished on in another room; corpses of what appeared to be bookshelves in their former lives were piled in a corner. Out of curiosity, he went to the piano and pressed a key, but no sound came out; the piano had lost its voice.
When Harry returned to the candlelit room, a whiff of vanilla from scented candles had taken over the mustiness in the air. Draco was waiting for him by the doorway, holding up a cake with a slightly bashful look on his face. "Happy Birthday, Harry."
Dumbstruck, Harry stared at the cake, a fluff of white garnished with strawberries on top and coconut flakes along the side. The centre-piece was a dark chocolate plate with the cursive words Happy Birthday Harry written in white chocolate. A single red candle was stuck on the cake, its flame wavering as Draco said, "Make a wish."
His face glowing with warmth, Harry whispered a wish under his breath and blew out the candle. Once the ceremony was complete, the kidnapper and his captive sat down on the blanket. The cake was placed between them like a miniature barrier.
"I didn't think you would remember," Harry said as Draco discarded the candle, which had served its purpose as the price for a single wish.
"Your birthday is on the last day of hard can it be to remember that?" Draco picked up the fork, scooped up a mouthful of cake, and stuffed it into Harry's mouth. "The shop girl from the cake shop claimed this is their pastry chef's masterpiece."
While the cake indeed possessed the appearance of something utterly divine, all Harry could taste was a fluffy, sugary explosion in his mouth. After swallowing the mouthful with some difficulty, he forced a smile onto his face. "It's, eh, sweet."
Suspicious of Harry's reaction, Draco sampled the taste and frowned. The cake was so sweet it left a tang of bitterness on his tongue, and the frosting was too heavy for his liking. Having never developed a fondness for sweets in the first place, he took this snowy mess splattered with red as an insult. Without a word, he rummaged through his bag for the Thermos flask, gulped down the tea he had prepared beforehand, and let out a sigh. Harry could not help but wonder what other things the boy had packed in that bag of his.
"A masterpiece indeed," Draco muttered while glaring at the said masterpiece that had so irrevocably offended his senses. "I ought to go back to the shop and hex the girl for recommending this."
"Well, it does look pretty." Harry popped a sliced strawberry into Draco's mouth, which helped defuse the sparks crackling around the blond. "Hadn't Flitwick mentioned a spell that could make food taste less sweet? Let's try that." Wrinkling his brow, he crossed his arms and tried to remember the incantation. While he possessed a good memory for hexes and curses, charms of a domestic nature was not his strong point.
The glare subsided for the moment. Draco took out his wand and cast the charm on the cake. After tasting the cake, he nodded in approval and fed Harry another mouthful. The coconut flakes and the liberal amount of frosting spread across the cake did nothing to redeem this gastronomical excess, but at least the cake was edible.
"Maybe I should buy something without any frosting next time," Draco mumbled to himself.
The remark conjured in Harry's mind a certain scenario involving a bucket of cream, a large round bed, and a naked Draco tied up in purple ribbons with silver bells dangling at the ends. "I don't mind the cream. Just cream and no cake would be fine by me."
The object of Harry's fantasy raised an eyebrow, a perfect arch liken to a bow. "You are fantasising again, aren't you?" Draco drawled. "Perhaps I should grant your wish and dump you in a pool of whip cream. After all, it is your birthday."
"I was thinking along the lines of you tying a ribbon around yourself, smearing cream over certain strategic places, and declaring you are my birthday present." Harry grinned a cheshire cat grin.
"Is that so?" Feigning frostiness, Draco took out a neatly wrapped present and held it up as he would hold a hostage. "I guess you don't want this then."
Green eyes narrowed in amusement. "The dilemma is killing me. May I have both, please?" With that, Harry took the gift from Draco's hand.
The golden ribbon and the wrapping paper were swiftly discarded. A silver eyeglass case fell into Harry's hand. Raising his eyebrows, he opened his birthday present. Nestled inside the velvet-lined case was a pair of stylish rimless glasses, quite unlike those old-fashioned round glasses currently adorning his face. For the second time on this night, he was at a loss for words, his mouth forming a perfect O as though he was a child staring at a real life gingerbread house decorated with a rainbow of sweets.
Pleased with the reaction, Draco allowed a small smile to grace his lips. "The prescription should be correct. There are loads of charms placed on them: waterproof, light filter, night vision, unbreakable. There are more, but I'll tell you the rest later."
At last, Harry understood why Draco had asked him about his eyesight and all but dragged him to see a specialist. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he smiled shyly and replaced his old glasses with the ones the ice prince had picked out for him. The world sharpened into crisp, vivid reality. Before his eyes was the expectant visage of the boy he had come to cherish. Draco let out a sound of approval, satisfied that these new glasses accented Harry's brilliant green eyes.
"They are perfect," Harry said, unable to keep the smile off his face. Mindful of the cake between them, Harry leant forward and gave Draco a kiss, smearing a bit of cream and a coconut flake or two onto his mouth in the process. "Thank you."
Draco licked his lips and peered at Harry in that arrogant way of his. "That's it?" he jested before flashing the boy a charming smile. "After all, I kidnapped you from your dingy home, brought you to an empty house in the middle of nowhere, fed you the birthday cake, and gave you your first birthday present of the year. How do you plan on showing your gratitude to me?"
"With the rest of my life?" Harry said on a whim.
"That's fine as well." Once the cake was pushed out of harm's way, Draco coiled the golden ribbon around Harry's neck and pulled him close. "But I can think of something more immediate right now."
His stomach churning in anticipation, Harry narrowed the paper-thin distance and caught Draco's lips with his. Without skipping a beat, Draco moved his mouth against Harry's, breathing a piece of his life into the boy he had spirited away. The sweetness of sugar and strawberry, savoured from each other's mouth, tasted as divine as the forbidden fruit. When desire danced beneath their eyelids and warmth trickled down the rest of their bodies, they found each other.
Everlasting candles burnt low as if trying to conceal the young lovers beneath a veil of shadows. This skeleton of a room, grim and gloomy at a glance, was ablaze with musk and heat. Limbs tangled together on the ruffled blanket; blushing skin melted together in longing; lips parted to utter sighs of pleasure and tantalising agony before being silenced by greedy lips.
Breathless, Harry tilted his face away from Draco to gulp down the air this devious blond had stolen from him. In the midst of the haze, the silver cross dangling from Draco's neck, the birthday present Harry had given to this captor of his, glittered like a star. As he held onto Draco's shoulders and stared at the flushed visage of the youth who would someday become a fine man, everything in the world was an illusion except those arms tightening around him.
Like a cat mesmerised by the lure, Harry followed his instinct and caught the cross between his teeth. When he felt the tug on his neck, Draco looked down to find his captive gazing at him in lust and mischief. The golden ribbon he had jokingly tied around Harry's neck shimmered beneath the candlelight, the perfect complement to that damp, sun-kissed skin of his. Letting go of the cross, Harry whispered a suggestion, and Draco indulged him with a smirk on his face.
Draco sat up and pulled his lover along with him. The sudden friction from where they were fused together sent a rush up their spines, leaving them gasping in near perfect counterpoint. Stricken with hunger for the brunette, Draco kissed Harry again and caressed the contour of his back, curves not unlike the outline of a pair of wings. Smiling against Draco's mouth, Harry pushed his lover onto the blanket and resumed this bodily conversation of theirs. No one was there to witness their sensual dance save the moths peeking through the window in longing for the light.
The night deepened.
When their breathing eased and the fever subsided, Harry and Draco lay side by side beneath the cloak, facing each other as they always had. The wooden floor was not the most comfortable place to lie down on, but neither boy felt inclined to move.
With a distracted air about him, the brunette murmured as though talking to himself, "When I was a child, I used to think birthday parties were stupid and a waste of time." Lethargic eyes stared at a spot beyond Draco's shoulder. "Birthday is just like any other day. You grow a year older, that's all. What does it matter if no one celebrates your birthday or even remembers it?"
It was rare of Harry to disclose bits and pieces of his childhood to him, therefore Draco maintained his silence and let the boy talk to his heart's content.
"But sometimes I wondered why I didn't have parents who would be happy for me. I didn't mind if there's no cake or present. I just wanted someone to say to me, I'm glad you were born into this world." Harry turned his gaze back to Draco and smiled. "Well, it's all in the past now. Thank you for throwing this birthday party for me, even though I ended up being your present instead." In mock exasperation he tugged at the tail of the ribbon around his neck.
How this boy managed to make his heart flutter and ache at the same time was a mystery Draco had yet to solve. Pushing aside his bemusement, he untied the ribbon, which carried an illusion of Harry's warmth. "This is for thinking I'll do something as unseemly as tying a ribbon around my naked self. Besides," he waved the ribbon around, "it suits you better."
Indignant, Harry shot Draco a look that showed plainly what he thought about the arrangement. Nevertheless, he could not remain annoyed with the blond for long. "Maybe I should just tie you up with red strings on your next birthday." And I'll prepare a ring, a cake and a nice soft bed, he added.
Grey eyes narrowed into slits of silver. Draco huffed and brushed his hair away from his brow. "You just wouldn't give up, would you?"
"No." Holding himself up on his elbow, Harry playfully pressed a finger over Draco's lips. His gaze wandered downwards to the silver cross resting on Draco's chest, a mark of ownership attached to a chain of promises. "I'm relentless about certain things."
Draco detected an undercurrent beneath those words, but he did not voice his opinion. Neither he nor Harry had uttered sweet nothings to each other beyond the realm of jest and tease - and that was not about to change. "What a coincidence. So am I."
If he were the big bad wolf, he would devour the boy in one gulp. If he were the hideous beast, he would put shackles around the boy's ankles. If he were the evil wizard, he would put the boy under an enchanted sleep. Nevertheless, he was none of the above, and this side trip of theirs was not a fairy tale, but a mere lacuna between one battlefield to the next. Already, the magic was fading as dawn crept towards the horizon.
"We'll do this again next year," Draco said while gazing into Harry's eyes, emeralds that had imprisoned his reflection in their depth. "I'll kidnap you again, and this time I'll make sure the cake isn't a cavity-inducing disaster."
Taken aback by Draco's serious tone, Harry dropped his playfulness and studied his companion, this wizard who had woven for the orphan a single night of gold-tinged magic. In the morning, they would return to their respective battlefields, not knowing if they would live past their next birthdays. For now, however, while moths fluttered their wings of unrequited yearning and candlelight flickered visions of the unattainable blue rose, Harry would leave his worry aside.
Cradling Draco's head, Harry pressed their foreheads together and whispered, "Yeah."
After a moment of quietude, a growling sound erupted as if an animal had intruded between the boys. In unison, Harry and Draco moved away from each other and stared at their own stomach. When they looked up at each other, they could not help but chuckle. Wearing still a smile across his lips, the unruly orphan retrieved the cake from the far corner of the blanket, speared a strawberry with the fork, and held it out for this haughty prince of his.
Finis.
A/N: Call it my bizarre sense of humour for posting a story about Harry's birthday on Draco's birthday. It's been some time since I've written a story laden with fairy tale imagery, and it's fun to revisit some of my favourite tales. I try to keep the sentimental level low, since these boys aren't exactly sentimentalists to begin with. Once again, thank you very much for reading!