Promises
Kisses, and secrets, and promises. Oh my! Drarry One Shot. Rated M to cover all bases. I do not own these characters. They all belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. Companion song to this is The Promise by When In Rome. Complete.
Hands clammy, shivering as if an eternal draft hangs over him, Draco Malfoy leans against the wall to catch his breath. The panic attacks he had thought would cease once Voldemort had perished, occasionally plague him when he is under high levels of stress. He had not meant to come to the Ministry today, but he simply couldn't help himself. Wherever Potter seemed to be, is where his body gravitated, even if their communication is reduced to mere nodding at each other.
Hearing footsteps, he stands up straight, making sure his suit looks as pristine as if it had not just been crinkled in various places from when he had allowed himself to fall up against the wall seconds before. Following the footsteps coming to a halt behind him, he turns around to find himself face to face with the last person he had expected, Harry Potter.
"Potter," he nods, attempting not to look as if he were actually happy to see the wizard standing in front of him.
"Malfoy, made any headway on the Nimbus 2000 we sent you a week ago?"
"Of course Potter, I'm not an imbecile. Someone had cursed it with a particularly nasty dark hex, which caused any rider to fly to their doom. Once I removed the dark magic, I brought it directly here. Shacklebolt has already been notified, and the broom has been disposed of."
"Quite a shame, really. I have a soft spot for those old Nimbus'."
"Wasn't that your first broom, when we were First Years?"
"That's why I have such a soft spot for them. I'll never be able to forget the first time I flew on a real broom, not the old ones that the school has had for-,"
"centuries," Draco finishes, smirking.
"Yeah," Harry agrees, looking up at the blonde with a curious amusement.
Before either of them can speak another word, a third set of footsteps echo through the corridor, belonging to a red headed man, by the name of Ronald Weasley. Upon spotting both Harry and Draco in what seems to be a civil conversation, he glares slightly at the Slytherin, then turns to Harry, ignoring the other man who had been here before him.
"Harry, want to go have a couple glasses of Firewhiskey at The Three Broomsticks?"
Acknowledging that Draco is still standing there, Harry turns to him on a whim and asks, "Would you like to go with us Malfoy?"
Raising an eyebrow at the bespectacled man with the green eyes and messy black hair, he notices beside him that Weasley's skin is changing a slight shade darker, as it becomes tinged with an angry rose blush.
"As much as I appreciate the gesture, I know that is all it merely was meant to be, a gesture. I know when my company is not welcome. Good day, to you both." Bowing slightly, he makes haste to the closest point at which he can floo out home, attempting not to double back and accept the offer instead.
DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP
Hours later, Draco is splayed out in a silver armchair in Malfoy Manor, long past his liquor cut off. Having spent most of the night, drowning in alcohol, he had remained in his study for a large portion of the time. Grateful that his mother lives on the other end of the large estate, and hardly ever interrupted him once he had a glass or two, he enjoys the privacy greatly.
After Astoria had left, simply because it had become clear that they would never conceive a child and he really had never been interested in doing so, he had never bothered to remarry or even attempt another relationship. He reasoned that if it was meant to happen, then it would. However, most did not have the privilege of knowing that women did not particularly catch his fancy. He had merely married Astoria to secure the union he knew that his parents would approve of. Although an heir had yet to be produced, his mother had long since given up on the hope that one would appear, owing to the fact that he is now nearly twenty six and did not even have the prospect of another wife.
A sharp rap at his study door jerks Draco clear out of his seat, before he even realizes how quickly he had just reacted moments ago. Clutching his head from the headache that had developed while he had been dozing, he stumbles to the door, barely making it without falling over. Upon opening it, while leaning up against the wall, he finds green eyes staring straight at him.
"Potter, whad do chu wand?" Draco slurs incoherently.
"I wanted to have a word, and your mother told me I could find you here, but you're sloshed. I'll just come back tomorrow," Harry says, making an attempt to turn away, however Draco's next words stop him in his tracks.
"Podder don go,"
Turning around, Harry gives Draco a hard stare, before striding towards him again.
"Take my arm, and I'll help you to a seat in front of the fire,"
"Don tushhh me Podder. I won stop if you do,"
"Stop what exactly Malfoy? It's not as if you could hex me in your current state,"
"Silly Podder," Draco begins chuckling to himself, as Harry sits the tall blonde on the chair he had occupied minutes before, unbeknownst to him.
"What's so funny, might I ask?"
"I don wand to curse you, I wand to kiss you,"
Not even realizing what he has said, Draco continues chuckling to himself, until he falls soundly asleep nearly a minute later, right before the standing wizard's eyes. While the man in front of him dozes, Harry watches him for a moment, wondering if that had been an actual drunken confession. Could it explain the peculiar way Draco had been acting earlier at the Ministry? Harry couldn't be sure. On one subject he is very certain though, unless Malfoy were to bring it up in a conversation, Harry knows that he will never mention this moment ever again.
HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM
The next morning, Draco wakes up with a massive hangover, worse than he had ever experienced. Before, even when he and Blaise had gone out drinking, they had never consumed that much alcohol. However, last night as he had drunk through a few different bottles, he had not been paying attention to the volume of the liquid he had been ingesting.
Stumbling to the door, he tries to ignore the pounding ache that runs through his skull, while he reaches for the doorknob. As he touches it, a cold sensation zaps through his hand, suddenly reminding him of the dream he had the night before. Shaking his head, he makes his way to the bathroom close to his study, attempting not to remember how much he had wanted to kiss one Harry Potter.
HPDMHPDM
Walking into the dining room, to have what would now be lunch for his mother, he sits down carefully in the chair beside her. Smelling the liquor, Narcissa turns to look at her son, who is focusing solely on the plate in front of him.
"Draco, do you remember anything that occurred last night?"
"Depends. What part of the night are you referring to mother?" he asks solemnly.
"The part where Harry Potter knocked on your study door, helped you into a chair, and then left," she asks calmly.
"What are you talk-," standing bolt right up, he ignores the smirk upon his lunch companion's face.
"By your reaction, I'll assume you do not even remember him being here last night, much less that you have not had a shower since yesterday morning," she replies, sniffing slightly at the air.
Paying no mind to her comment, all of his thoughts are struggling to remember the night before, and what had apparently not been a dream at all. A few moments later, the color has drained from the young man's face, as he realizes what had taken place.
"Draco, are you alright?"
"No, mother. I'll see you later, after I take a shower and pay Potter a visit,"
DMHP
Sitting in his study, reading some files on a new case, Harry Potter is brought out of his concentration by an owl dropping a letter right on top of the current page he had been studying. Pulling a few stray coins out of his pocket for payment, he reaches for the letter with his name upon it, recognizing the handwriting almost immediately.
Potter,
please allow me to enter your house through the floo network. I need to speak with you,
Draco Malfoy
Picking up a quill, he writes a quick reply to send off with the owl. After making the necessary alterations to the extra security on his floo network, Harry watches the fire, waiting for the figure of Draco Malfoy to come striding through. A few moments later, the tall form of the blonde Slytherin appears, taking care to dust the soot off and causing it to disappear before he looks up at the man sitting at his own desk.
"You look a right sight better than last night, Malfoy," Harry states, attempting to keep an even expression.
"I suppose I do, don't I? Mother told me you stopped by last night, and I was not exactly in my right state of mind, so I did not remember you being there until she mentioned it this morning," he says, staring openly at the man before him, wondering whether or not he should attempt to use Occlumency on him.
"Ah," Harry replies, looking down to avoid the scrutiny he feels radiating towards him.
"I regret you finding me in the state you did. Normally, I am able to control myself when it comes to alcohol. Last night, I simply needed-."
"Malfoy, there's no need to explain yourself. We're all adults. Everyone deserves to let loose once in awhile."
"I suppose. However, Slytherins and Malfoys in general, are very careful who that happens in front of."
"I won't be running off and telling anybody about last night, if that's where you're concerned. I have enough on my plate as it stands, without letting everyone know I visited Malfoy Manor last night of my own accord."
Looking up at Draco, he notices a look of concern that crosses his face.
"Why did you come to the Manor last night?"
"I had come to speak with you about yesterday, but once I knew you were smashed, I realized there would be no point in attempting a normal conversation."
"I'm not a damsel in distress Potter, I do not need saving,"
"Stand up for yourself then, and quit letting everyone else push you aside, simply because of mistakes you made years ago. You're a different person, which you have now proven multiple times over. Let everyone else see that."
"Why? What good would it do? The reason people listen to you is because you are the one who vanquished Voldemort, the bloody Chosen One. No one gives a sodding rat's arse, save for my mother, whether I were to stop breathing at this very moment or not. "
"You're wrong, you know."
"Oh really. About what, pray tell?"
"Your mother is not the only person who would care if you died. There's Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and me," Harry states firmly, before exhaling.
"What the bloody hell are you on about Potter? You tolerate my existence. You hardly ever acknowledge my presence besides a few glances and nods every so often, and yet you have the audacity to state that you would have a problem with my dying!"
Smirking in a knowing way, Harry glances up at the blonde who is pacing in front of his desk going on, before looking down at his paperwork once again.
"See, even now, you're not paying hardly a lick of attention to me. Instead, you'd rather read case papers than acknowledge that I am still speaking RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!" Turning to look at Harry, he becomes more infuriated at the smirk upon the other wizard's face. "Something you'd like to say, Potter?" he asks, as he leans right on top of the large wooden ornate desk.
"If you had wanted to hide your feelings towards me, I'd suggest you stop yelling at me about the fact that you're angry at my lack of attention."
"What did you just say?" Draco stops, mid pace and pivots around to look straight into the green eyes fixated on him.
"You heard me Draco. Don't pretend you didn't," Harry replies, before picking up his quill and returning to his note taking.
"What the bloody hell did you just call me?"
"I don't recall stuttering either."
Glaring from the position which he stands, a few feet from the desk, Draco contemplates what to do. His best kept secret had been unmasked, by the last person he had wished to find out, Harry bloody Potter. Rubbing a hand over his face, he sighs, plopping down in one of the chairs that are on either side of him. Smiling to himself, Harry continues to look down on the paperwork before him, dropping his quill once more.
For many minutes, they sit there in silence, each acutely aware as to the other's presence. Harry picks up his quill, making a few notes, while Draco watches him in silence. Neither makes a move to change the current state, their breath and the scratching of the writing instrument become almost a cadence, as both act as if nothing is out of the ordinary. Glancing to lock gazes with the man before him, Harry drops his quill onto the desk, not paying it anymore mind.
"What are you looking at Potter?" Draco queries sourly, before turning to mindlessly play with the button on his coat pocket.
"Would you like a cup of tea or a glass of Firewhiskey?"
"What are you playing at Potter?"
"Draco, do you remember last night?"
"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"
"Why? You didn't seem to mind it too much, after we kissed last night,"
"We, we did what?"
"We kissed. It's normal activity people engage in, should they fancy someone,"
"But, I, you, what?"
Exhaling a light chuckle, Harry looks over at the confused expression on Draco's face, before leaning back in his chair.
"What do you recall about last night?"
"I answered the door. I was placed in an armchair, by you, whilst I said something I've kept secret for an incredibly long amount of time. Then, I fell asleep. That's it,"
"All of that did happen, but you also woke up before I left,"
"What happened then?"
"You kept asking me not to go, but I insisted that I needed to. You were acting like a five year old, so I promised that I would come back today. You said, that if I made a promise, I had to seal it with a kiss. So, I did," Harry shrugs, nonchalantly.
"Just like that, you kissed me?"
"Yep, just like that," the dark haired wizard admits easily.
"You have some nerve Potter. You could have had your bits hexed off, if I were actually straight."
"It's a risk I was willing to take, and I believe it is quite clear that you are not."
"So, where do we go from here?" Draco asks, clasping his hands on his the arm rests, as he looks back up.
"Well, for starters, you could tell me what you would like to drink. Then, we can work from there. Is that alright with you?" Harry asks, as he stands up, pushing himself away from his desk.
"As long as you promise you'll return," Draco smirks.
Walking over to him, Harry looks at him with an intensity Draco had never before seen. Bending to reach down, he slowly captures the blonde's lips in another kiss. The gasp that emits from the kissee causes Harry to pull back, and stare into the light blue eyes, searchingly before nodding in affirmation.
"I promise."