AN: Darned plot bunny escaped and ran a little wild.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the wayward plot bunny.
May 2, 1998
The war was won. Everyone was in the Great Hall sitting wherever they wanted for the impromptu feast the school house elves had put together. Harry sat at the Gryffindor table with that group of people he considered his closest friends and honorary family.
He looked around the Hall and watched as group after group either grieved together or filled each other in on their particular parts in what would become known as The Battle of Hogwarts. As his gaze drifted, Harry thought about how proud he was of all these people for what they had accomplished, how happy he was that they had survived, and how sorry he was for all those who had sacrificed their lives.
His eyes finakly landed on the far corner of the Slytherin table where there sat a lonely (and apprehensive looking) trip of blondes. As his gaze settled on the youngest of the three, his heart jumped in his chest which in turn seemed to release a small horse of butterflies in his stomach. He looked away quickly before he could be caught staring. It wouldn't do to be found out.
September 1, 1998
Draco was nervous. He would never admit it to anyone (a Malfoy never discloses a weakness), but he was quite worried about several things. He sat alone in his compartment on the train and ran through everything in his mind again. He found that running possible scenarios in his mind helped calm him because then nothing could surprise him, and any problem probably already had a solution.
He worried about his father. He worried about how he would handle Azkaban and what effect the prison would have on him over the course of his life. He also worried what would happen to his mother and himself if his father ever got out. There were too many variables. He no longer agreed with his father's philosophy and didn't want to be forced to live under it again, but it was still his father, and he couldn't just stop loving him.
Draco also worried about his reception at school. Though he had only participated as a Death Eater in the lightest sense, and only at all to protect his mother, he knew that many people would still hold it against him. Best case, all would be forgiven, and he would have a completely happy, normal eighth year (but that so was not going to happen). Worst case, he's have to watch his back at every turn, not having any friends this year to help watch out for him. The best he could actually hope for would be an ideal halfway point. A little complete forgiveness, quite a bit more grudging acceptance, some who would want to hex him up one side and down the other but wouldn't want to get in trouble themselves, and those very few who just wouldn't care and would do whatever it took to get rid of him.
You would think that having Harry Bloody Potter vouch for you would be enough. He had testified at the Death Eaters' trials- against most of them, but in favor of Draco and his mother. Draco hadn't known until then that. Harry had been at the Astronomy tower sixth year. He had heard the conversation between Draco and Dumbledore, had seen Draco lower his wand. And he had told the entire Wizengamot when Draco had already resigned himself to a future in Azkaban.
This line of thinking always brought Draco around to that one thing he worried about most- how he would react to seeing Potter again, and how Potter would react to seeing him. He had good expectations for Potter's reaction. If nothing else, his testimony at the trial signalled his awareness of Draco's changed personality and sense of ethics (and just between him and his thoughts, he hadn't even let himself think the word lifeblood in months).
More than that, though, Draco remembered the feast after the battle when he had caught Potter looking at him for just a minute. Just before Potter had looked away, Draco had seen a look in his eyes that made his heart skip. That was why Draco worried about his own reaction to seeing Potter again. He knew what that skip meant, but he never thought he'd feel it for Potter. And he was certain Potter would never return those feelings.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a glimpse of very familiar unruly black hair passing his compartment. It was almost as if Draco had conjured him with his thoughts (or so it seemed to him). There was something he'd been meaning to take care of, and he figured he might as well get it out of the way here where he could guarantee a bit of privacy. Draco stood to watch the door, hoping he wouldn't have long to wait.
Harry made his way back down the train from the loo lost in thought. The last few months had been exhausting. He had been bombarded with requests from the ministry to testify every witch or wizard they had rounded up who had any connection at all to a Death Eater. After the first dozen, they had gotten extremely tedious- oh, who am I kidding? They started getting tedious and harder to deal with each one as soon as I dealt with the Malfoys, Harry thought as he walked.
That was a move that had not only rocked the magical community off its axis, but had some people once again seriously questioning his sanity. He would do it again in a heartbeat. He knew without a doubt that not only had Draco never lifted a finger to help the dark cause without threat of harm to his family (which, when proven, had won him a very light probation), but if it weren't for Mrs. Malfoy, he would never have made it out of the forest alive (the only fact that had saved her from Azkaban).
Harry had made it about halfway back to his friends' compartment when his arm was grabbed from behind and he was dragged into a compartment he had thought empty when he passed it. He drew his wand as he heard his captor cast a locking spell and silencing charm on the door. He didn't put his wand away, but he did lower it to rest at his side. He was curious, but years of conditioning had caused him to remain skeptical.
"Malfoy. Is there something I can help you with?" Harry asked as he eyes the platinum blonde with caution .
"Relax, Potter. I only wanted a word in private. Do you mind, or would you rather go?"
Surprised for a moment, Harry considered his options. After charming the door, Malfoy had put his wand away while Harry's was still in his hand, so there was no immediate threat. However, it was Malfoy's tone of voice that decided for him. It had started out with his usual air of condescension, but at the last bit, Harry had heard just a hint of vulnerability. Pushing thoughts of curiosity and cats to the back of his mind, Harry decided to hear him out.
"Okay, Malfoy, you've got my attention, so talk."
Draco lowered his eyes for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. He honestly hadn't expected to get so far as having the chance to speak, so he wasn't completely decided on how he wanted to say what he needed. He finally decided to get the main point out of the way first. After, if Potter didn't accept that, the rest wouldn't matter.
Draco cleared his throat before bringing his gaze back up to Potter's. (No matter how you feel, never show less than utmost confidence in anything you do, he heard in his father's voice.)
"The thing is, Potter, you have done quite a bit for me recently, and I am in your debt. What can I do to thank you?"
He could see he had caught Potter off guard. It was interesting to watch different emotions cross his face as he processed Draco's statement. The surprise that came first was obvious and completely expected. It was followed by a thoughtful moment and then suspicion. Draco wasn't surprised. Seven years of dedicated rivalry was hard to get over quickly.
"Alright, Malfoy," Potter said with just a bit of skepticism. "I'll accept your thanks, but what makes you think I want anything else from you?"
Draco looked at him, dumbfounded. "Are you serious? Do you have any idea of your standing in my family right now? You saved my life not once, but twice! I would have died in the Fiendfyre if you hadn't pulled me into your broom. That would have been enough on its own, but then you kept both me and my mother out of Azkaban. Even you have to know that any lengthy stay there may as well be a Death sentence. Right now you could literally turn me into a slave giving me jobs a house elf wouldn't touch, and I'd be honor bound to do it. You could make me be your sex toy for the whole year, and you would not hear one single complaint! So I'll ask again, what would you have me do?"
Draco had been watching Potter (it was so much fun to rile him up when he did nothing to hide his feelings). Through most of Draco's speech, Potter had worn a look of stunned disbelief, but at the very end, there had been a change. Draco had thrown out that last example as something so extremely outrageous it would never really be asked.
Except that when he'd said it, he had noticed Potter's pupils dilating and the emerald of his eyes darkening to a shade closer to forest green. The realization that Potter found him desirable caused a slight tightening in his trousers- a reaction he still was not prepared for when dealing with the green eyes wizard.
Harry listened as Malfoy talked, but he wasn't sure what to think. Malfoy was so good at hiding his emotions, Harry could never tell when he was being serious. Am I being set up? Does Malfoy intend to sabotage me somehow? Will he use this as the greatest opportunity to make my final year unbearable? He was so deep in thought, he almost missed Malfoy's last statement. When his mind finished processing exactly what Malfoy had said, he started thinking about some of the dreams he'd had over the summer, the fantasies that had plagued his waking hours to the extent that even Ron had noticed there was something going on. His body instantly reacted.
Just as Harry had made up his mind to flee the compartment in embarrassment, he chances to look up at Malfoy - and saw a mirror to his own reaction in smoky grey eyes, a light flush across pale cheeks, and the straining zipper on the front of his trousers. Bloody hell! Malfoy wants me as much as I want him!
He set his wand on the nearest seat (he really needed to invest in a holster), and took a step toward Malfoy, gaze never wavering. He took another step and allowed his eyes to wander the length of Malfoy's body like he was something Harry wanted to devour. When eventually he worked his gaze back up until he was once again looking Malfoy in the eye, Harry raised a questioning eyebrow and could see that Malfoy understood. As Harry slowly advanced, he would allow Malfoy every opportunity to reject him. He could ask Harry to stop, he could back away, he could even leave without saying anything, and Harry would let him. Despite what Malfoy might think, Harry would not force himself on anyone.
When Harry finally stood directly in front of Draco (he wold no longer consider him 'Malfoy' with what he had planned), a feeling of relief washed over him. He had thoroughly believed that Draco would not let him get this close no matter what he'd said or how he felt. His relief must have shown on his face because Draco was smirking at him.
That smirk disappeared as Harry's hands settled on Draco's body. One was on his hip, the other at his neck, both pulling Draco toward him. The kiss was soft, sweet, and gentle. Neither knew what to expect from the other, so they didn't want to move too quickly. Harry's hand moved from where it rested on Draco's neck to work its way into his hair. It was very silky. He'd noticed years ago that Draco had stopped using hair gel to keep every strand in place. It had done wonders for his image (not that Harry had noticed...really!).
Harry allowed the strands of platinum hair to sift through his fingers and imagined how it would look tousled in the mornings as Draco first awoke, or how it wold feel against his bare skin in the aftermath of making love. The image was enough to tear a moan from Harry's throat, and that was enough for Draco to decide he wanted more.
Draco took over. He backed Potter against the door and deepened the kiss, invading his mouth with his tongue. When Potter reciprocated in kind, Draco found he could no longer keep his hands to himself. He slid them beneath Potter's loose t-shirt (these muggle clothes were growing on him) and ran them over the muscled planes of his abs and back. Sweet Salazar, Potter's physique must be the best kept secret in the wizarding world! Who knew he was hiding muscle like this beneath those bulky school robes?
This lasted awhile longer before they came up for air. When they did, they were both flushed and breathing heavily and a lot less put together than they had been hours before on the platform.
Draco didn't want to be the first to speak. He didn't want to break the spell. He stood waiting to see what Potter would do. He could see Potter fighting with himself over whether or not to put words to the thought Draco could see running through his mind. He could see the moment the decision was made. He did not, however, expect to see Potter once again reaching for him. He closed his eyes as the fingers brushed gently along his cheek to tuck back a wayward lock of hair.
"Draco."
Draco's eyes flew open, and it was all he could do to stop himself from jumping Potter and having his way with him then and there. He had never heard Potter use his given name before, and it was a good thing, too. He would never have been able to hide that reaction. His voice was so husky from arousal, it was almost sinful. It wasn't possible anyone had ever heard Potter like this. If they had, there would have been scores of simpering females throwing themselves at him (not to mention a few males).
Wait a minute, Potter had been talking...
"Draco? Are you with me? Speak to me, love." Potter was cupping Draco's face in his hands (when had that happened?) and looking very worriedly into his eyes.
"Someone should stick you with a warning label. 'Beware- sexy voice- known to strongly confound susceptible persons.' Wait! Potter, did you just call me 'love'?"
Potter flashed him a roguish grin that very nearly left him feeling confounded again before answering, "I most certainly did. Did you just admit you find my voice sexy?"
Draco blushed but didn't back down. "I do when it's been affected by how hot you find me." He gave a smirk of his own.
Potter smiled at him again before getting back to his earlier thoughts. "Anyway, Draco, as much as I would like to spend the next couple of hours snogging the hell out of you, I need to get back before my friends come looking for me." Potter glanced him over, looking momentarily uncertain. "Draco, I'd like to keep this between us, yeah? At least for a little while."
Draco's face suddenly reverted to his patented sneer he had perfected over the last several years. "Is that how it's going to be, Potter? Am I to spend this year as your dirty little secret?"
Potter's eyes widened as if he hadn't considered that his statement might be taken that way. "Godric, Draco, no! This is the best thing that's happened to me, and I want to keep it to myself for a bit. The second I tell my friends, I'm going to start getting questioned about my state of mind and be subjected to suspicions of you having cast a spell on me. Which you have, by the way, just not the type they would mean. I'd just like a little time enjoying the good of this before that."
Draco brought Potter's body back flush to his and once again attacked his mouth as he buried his hands in Potter's hair. He drew back again after only a minute, slightly embarrassed by his actions, but refusing to relinquish eye contact.
"Thanks for clearing that up. I know I said I would be your toy if you wanted, but I'm really glad that request wasn't because you're ashamed of me."
Potter flashed him a smile in understanding. "Of course, Draco. If you like, I'll climb the Astronomy tower in two weeks and cast a sonorus so everyone can hear it."
Draco laughed. "You don't have to go that far, but yeah. We can keep it until you're ready. So as you said, your friends are going to think you've been abducted if you don't get back soon, so go on back, and I'll see you later?"
Potter smiled and nodded before picking up his wand from where he had dropped it earlier. He pressed one last kiss to Draco's lips before turning to the door and cancelling the spells Draco had put on it.
As he was walking out, Potter stopped and flashed Draco that sinfully sexy smile again. "And Draco, before I forget... call me Harry." With a wink, he turned and was gone.
Hermione looked up as Harry came back. He was smiling slightly and had a somewhat dreamy look in his eyes. What exactly has he been doing for so long that put that look on his face? His clothes were a bit disheveled, and his hair looked wilder than usual, if that was even possible.
"Harry, are you alright? You were gone a long time, and you look like you've been attacked!"
Ron's head came up to look over his best friend, but Hermione doubted he would notice the pink that stole over Harry's cheeks at her last words.
"Sorry, I was waylaid by an over-eager fan," Harry said sheepishly.
Hermione tsked. "You don't have to look like you enjoyed it so much."
Ron's head whipped back around, and he gave Harry an appraising look. "Mate! Did you at least get her name first?"
Harry shot Ron a devilish look. "Who said it was a girl?"
Ron's jaw dropped and he sputtered incoherently. "You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking! Hermione, is he joking?"
Harry took one look at Ron's expression and burst into laughter. Ron turned red and grumbled, "It's not funny! If you're into blokes you should have said something! We sleep in the same room, remember?"
Harry chuckled at Ron's indignation. "If it makes you feel any better, you are like a brother to me. I could never look at you that way. And I really didn't know before. It's a fairly recent development."
Ron looked slightly mollified, and Harry settled in for the rest of the trip. Neither noticed the speculative glances Hermione kept shooting at Harry.
"So if you don't fancy me, who do you fancy?"
September 10, 1998
Harry was walking to breakfast with the beginnings of a headache. Ever since the train, Ron had been bugging him to find out who he was dating. Harry now knew exactly how Hermione had felt in fourth year when Ron had tried to discover her date for the ball. He was following the same tactics now, springing the question at him when he believed Harry's guard was down, hoping to surprise the answer out of him. So far, the only answer he had gotten was a blush from Harry and the silent treatment for the hour following the question.
Following that, he'd started paying more attention to whom Harry spent time with, but Harry had been extra careful not to be seen in public with Draco, so Ron had only seen him interact with his fellow Gryffindors and those few friends from other houses that they shared.
To Harry's relief, Hermione not only hadn't asked (even though he could tell she was dying to know), but every time she caught Ron badgering Harry or staring intently at his interactions, she would chastise him that Harry would tell them when he was ready, and how would Ron like being hounded about his love life? Of course, after sixth year, and Ron's little interlude with Lavender Brown, they both knew there would be no hounding needed on Ron's part because he didn't have a subtle bone in his body.
Unfortunately, that also meant that Ron didn't understand or respect others' desires for privacy, and that made it very difficult to spend any time with Draco. When he did manage to give Ron the slip (usually after curfew when Ron had fallen asleep), he would meet up with Draco and they would spend hours just talking in the Room of Requirement. Of course, they spent even more hours doing other things, but Harry couldn't think about that, or he'd end up with this really goofy look on his face that would set Ron off again.
On this particular morning, Ron had started in early. Apparently, Harry had been moaning in his sleep and had forgotten to set the silencing charm on his bed hangings. He had gotten back to the tower around one that morning and had been too tired and preoccupied to remember. He had been thinking about how and when to let the rest of the school, and by extension all of wizarding Britain, in on his secret. This morning after Ron's version of the Spanish Inquisition, Harry had hidden out in the showers until he was sure that Ron had left for breakfast.
So now he descended the Grand Staircase alone, trying to keep his headache from going full-blown, and weighing his options. As he approached the doors to the Great Hall, he almost groaned out loud in frustration. Ron and Hermione were there waiting for him, and the only thing that kept him from turning back the way he'd come was the look of concern on Hermione's face. She must have worried when Ron showed up without him.
As Harry approached, Ron opened his mouth to speak, but a quick elbow jab to the ribs and glare from Hermione changed his mind. This was not going to end anytime in the near future. Harry now knew what he was going to do, he just hoped Draco wouldn't be upset with him. With that in mind, he stopped in front of his friends.
Hermione smiled at him. "Shall we go in then?"
"You two go ahead. I've got something to settle first."
They separated as they entered, Ron and Hermione heading right to the Gryffindor table, Harry turning left toward the Slytherins. He could feel the look of confusion Ron was sending his way, and he wasn't the only one. Several students as well as Headmistress McGonagall and a couple of other teachers were following his progress with curiosity all over their faces. Harry just kept walking to where Draco was sitting alone. There were no other eighth year Slytherins, so Draco always ate by himself. It hurt Harry to see him look so abandoned, but maybe he wouldn't have to after this.
Harry slid onto the bench next to Draco and started loading a plate with food. Draco's fork hung in midair as he looked sideways at Harry.
"What do you think you're doing, Potter? People are staring!"
"Let them stare; I don't have a problem with it. I decided I'd like to have breakfast with my boyfriend. And while we're on the subject...Potter? I much prefer what you called me last night, love."
Harry had practically purred that last bit to him, but he wasn't bothering to keep his voice down, and the Slytherins and Ravenclaws sitting close by heard him. Their eyes grew as wide as saucers when they realized what they'd heard, and they immediately started discussing it with those around them. The new level of buzzing made Draco blush, but underneath it, he was smiling. Harry had acknowledged their relationship in public! He wanted people to know about them. Harry really wasn't ashamed of him! Draco knew that Harry had said he wasn't, but he'd worried about it just the same. Draco was drawn back to reality by a shout from the other side of the Hall.
"HARRY'S DATING WHO?!"
They both turned to see Harry's best friend staring incredulously in their direction before storming toward them.
"Harry! What the hell, mate? What are you doing with sodding Malfoy?"
"Well, Ron, at the moment I'm eating with him, which I'd like to continue, by the way, and them I thought I'd walk him to class," Harry answered calmly. He continued, sensing the next outburst before it came, "And before you say another word, let me remind you of the rumor you just heard. Draco is my boyfriend. I will not sit here and listen to anyone, you included, spout off nonsense based on how he was before the war. He's not that person anymore. I won't put up with it any more than I would if it was being said about you. And just so you know, this is exactly why I put off telling you."
Ron didn't say anything else, turning even redder with the restraint, before turning and stomping away.
Hermione had followed Ron over, and she settled on the edge of the bench next to Harry. She still looked worried, but she also looked resigned. "Harry, you're happy with him, right? This really isn't some twisted trick on his part?"
Harry's eyes were bright and clear as he answered, "No trick. I really am happy."
Hermione smiled. "That's all I needed to know. Don't worry about Ron, he'll come around eventually. This was just a bit of a shock." She turned to sit properly and pulled a plate toward her. If Harry was going to date Mal- Draco, she may as well get used to being around him.
The three finished eating and got up to leave. As they walked through the doors, Harry took hold of Draco's hand and laced their fingers together. They didn't say anything. They were happy just being able to walk together like this without having to hide.
They entered Transfiguration to find Ron already sitting near the back. Hermione took the other seat at his desk, and Harry and Draco took the next desk over. When Professor Fletcher finished lecturing and set them to practice, Harry turned to watch Draco. He was fascinating when he was attempting a new spell. He had a look of utter concentration with the tip of his tongue just peeking between his teeth. Harry could sit here all day just watching him.
"Go to Hogsmeade with me next week?"
Harry realized Draco had spoken without looking up from his work.
"Of course, Draco, I'd love to go with you."
Draco looked up and smiled. "Thanks, Harry."
"For what?"
"For this morning. For telling everyone. For standing up for me against Weasley. For saying yes to an actual date with me. Just...thank you."
Harry smiled. This was going to be a good year.
.
.
.
The End.