The Taming of a Dragon
Warning(s): None, just cursing.
Beta: CleopatraIsMyName
Chapter 2
The first few moments of their dinner together were full of tension. So much so that you could probably take the proverbial knife to it, and it wouldn't be able to make any head-way.
Harry squinted at his menu, and hoped it would turn to English. Languages had never been his strong-point, and especially not French.
Tapping his fingers softly on the table, he glanced around at the secluded room they would be dining in.
It was definitely dark, though there were some magically-infused lights floating above them at the ceiling.
The table he was seated at, with Draco, had a romantic atmosphere to it: white cloth, dark wood, odd silver bell, even the handkerchief he might have to put to use looked posh.
Though the teen across from him was gorgeous, just handsome in every way, Harry was cursing Neville and his inattentiveness.
This was why Harry had misgivings about taking Lord Draco on a date; he would, probably, embarrass himself. Not even probably, he would... since the fucking menu was in French, and he couldn't understand a lick of it!
Willing the blush from his frustration down, he started at the sound of a throat clearing.
"Are you just going to admire the view, or are you going to pick something off the menu to eat?" the Lord asked spitefully, legs crossed at the heel.
He hadn't even known he was staring, though Harry still nodded his head. Taking a deep breath, the teen then confessed, "I can't read French."
Draco scoffed, "You're a wizard, aren't you?"
The raven-haired teen looked at him blankly, blinking his eyes.
Draco muttered darkly under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like, "Oh, he's an idiot, too?"
Eye twitching at the insult he was sure he'd just heard the blond mutter, Harry took his wand out of his pocket. "Okay, what would you like me to do, My Lord?"
Scowling at Harry's tone, Draco explained, "Just wave your wand over the menu, you sodding berk. It says at the top to do that for translations."
Harry brought the menu closer to his face, then frowned, "Where?"
"Find it yourself," the blond stated, rudely. "I'm not your mother."
"Obviously not," Harry murmured, squinting at the tiny text at the top.
"Hm, what was that?"
"Nothing, dear," Harry mocked, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It just seems that I have, somehow, managed to miss the text conveniently located at the very top of the menu, stating how to bring about the translation."
Shaking his head in disbelief, Harry waved his wand over the menu, and the translations for the items appeared next to the French dishes.
Harry asked, "Okay, how do we order?"
Draco leaned forward in his seat, picked up the bell Harry had seen earlier, and rung it.
A waiter appeared to their left, "Are you ready to order, sirs?"
Draco merely said, in a bored tone, "Pâté de Fois Gras and Beef Bourguignon. Oh, and the Cabernet Sauvignon."
Looking pointedly at Draco, Harry then turned towards the waiter and answered, "Yes, may I have the Bouillabaisse and Steak Daine?"
The waiter smiled and nodded, then asked, "And what would you like on the side?"
"We'll both have the Pomme Duchess and Petit Pois."
The young man before them disappeared, promising that the food would be ready shortly.
When they were left to their own devices, Lord Draco remarked, "For someone who can't read French, you can certainly pronounce it."
Harry shrugged, "I can pronounce it, but I won't understand what it is I'm saying."
Nodding his head, Draco asked, "So, just French?"
"No," Harry frowned. "I have the same problem with Spanish, Italian, Swedish, and Japanese."
"Ah," he remarked, face blank.
The silence between the two was unbearable, but neither knew how to break it.
That is, until the wine came.
"Urgh," Harry grunted, frowning at the blond's choice of wine. "I used to work at the winery that makes this. I can't stand the smell anymore."
Draco sneered at the raven-haired teen's obnoxious remark. "Well, it's no concern of mine," he said, uncorking the bottle and pouring the wine into his glass.
He twirled the glass around, smelled it, and then drank from it. Harry gave him a funny look.
"What?" the blond virtually growled, putting down his glass.
"Nothing," he denied, drumming his hands on his thighs.
The food came quickly, and they ate quietly, neither willing to speak to the other. However, then the mischievous side of Harry sprang up, and he knew exactly what to say.
"You know," Harry started, lifting a spoon to his mouth. "You're nice when you don't speak."
Draco sent him a scathing glare. "I would rather not even be here, with you."
"I don't know," Harry smirked, sipping at his soup. "It looked like you were pretty glad, earlier."
Dropping his fork to his plate, Draco asked, "Excuse me?"
"Considering you were staring at me, as long as I was staring at you, I'm going to guess you liked what you saw a lot more than you're willing to admit."
Draco made a noise at the back of his throat, "You uncouth, sodding, fucking..."
"Go on," Harry waved his hand at the blond wizard. "I want to hear the rest."
Grunting, Draco took several deep breaths, trying to calm the need to wrap his hands around the other teen's throat, and squeeze the life out of him.
When he felt he was ready to proceed eating, he picked up his fork again.
"Did you realise you had an iron grip on your knife the entire time?"
"Looks like one part of my body didn't want to listen when I tried to contain my need for murder."
"Well, I applaud you for trying."
He could see the blond lord was gritting his teeth in irritation, and it made Harry want to giggle. Oh, how playing with fire seemed to always thrill him.
He was definitely going to thank Neville later on.
Although, he hoped the brunet was able to escape the blond's wrath when they left the restaurant.
In the Room Next Door...
Blaise laughed at Harry's remark on Draco's staring, then glanced at Neville. "Nev, he's brilliant!"
"See?" Neville preened, arms crossed in front of his chest. "Harry is just the right one to handle someone like Draco."
Blaise shook his head in wonder, and sat back down at the table. "I love you," he smiled, leaning forward to lay a chaste kiss upon his lover's lips.
Neville chuckled, "As I do you!"
Author's Note:
Please thank CleopatraIsMyName for helping me with the French dishes and the wine. Oh, gosh. I had no idea what to write for it xD
I hope you guys liked this chapter ^~^