Title: Of Secret Shags, Talks, and Fainting.
Disclaimer: Yes, I am totally married and have children, and have made so much money by writing seven books that I no longer have to work for the rest of my life... and then I wake up and realize it's just a dream. *sigh*
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius, Ron/Hermione, past Harry/Ginny.
Rating: M
Word Count: 3,014
Warnings: DH spoilers, sexual content, language.
Summary: Remus and Sirius decided to give Harry The Talk a few months after the final battle. But has Harry already done the dirty, so to say? And with whom exactly? And is that...Lucius Malfoy fainting?
Author's Note: A slash. My first attempt EVAR! Just a note: Sirius and Remus survived beyond the battle. But other than that, no one else. Everything other than Sirius' death in DoM and Remus dying at the Battle of Hogwarts is canon.
It's halfway through the Leaving Feast when Harry is just tucking into his seventh helping of potatoesl, telling Professor Flitwick why two of his colleagues are absent (Held up because of Teddy is the excuse) when the doors to the Great Hall open with a resounding bang followed by a very angry "POTTER!"
Later, he swears he heard Headmistress McGonagall sigh something about feasts and never being rid of Potters and Blacks.
"Oh shit," Harry mutters, pushing his chair back quickly, and crawling behind the professor's chairs to avoid detection. He hides behind Hagrid's hulking form momentarily to see what his godfather is doing.
All eyes in the Great Hall are fixed on the Transfiguration and Defense professor; the latter of which is strolling in serenely as though this were a park. Harry tries to slink out through the door off to the side of the High Table while Sirius is looking up and down the Gryffindor table.
His usually immaculate hair is disheveled, and he has a wild look about him. Like when a dog looks when hunting for his prey, Harry realizes, and understands that unless he wants to be dog food, he should leave. Now. Harry can see Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny giggling at the Gryffindor table. Initially, Harry was incensed he had to eat with the teachers instead of with his friends. Now, he was grateful for it.
As amusing the situation is, he needs to make a quick getaway.
When it is obvious there is no messy-haired man at the table, grey eyes quickly rove to where the teachers sit. Harry has one foot in his exit to freedom when McGonagall notices.
"Mister Potter, just where do you think-"
Sirius is stalking toward him with an unnatural glint in his eye. Remus merely looks amused, shaking his head, mouthing something that looks suspiciously like "Drama Queen," at Sirius' back.
Harry cuts her off hurriedly. Only his face in in the Great Hall now. "Sorry, professor. But unless you want one-maybe two- of your staff to become murderers, I really must leave."
He runs full-pelt through the side chamber and out the other side into a hallway leading to the kitchens. He hear footsteps behind him, and takes a moment to pull the Cloak over him, thanking his father for the fiftieth time, simultaneously pulling out the Marauder's Map, thanking his father and the men out to get him for that.
His best bet right now is the dungeons, knowing Sirius wouldn't think to look there immediately. Hopefully, he can get to one of the passageways and leave the castle that way.
But he doesn't make it that far, because Sirius and Remus are there, standing in the entrance hall, peering every which way, obviously expecting Harry to pass by with his Cloak. Harry's only solace was that he had the two men's wands.
Remus, it seemed, was trying to reason with Sirius whilst looking around for Harry.
As the younger man inches closer to the entrance hall, he can hear Sirius rant to Remus. "Stupid map. I'm telling you, we never should have made it. He's going to know where we are. Why'd you have to give it back to him anyhow? Stupid Prongs and his stupid obsession with finding where Lily is every single minute of every single stupid day."
Harry stuffs a fist into his mouth to stifle the laughter bubbling in his throat. He hadn't known the reason behind making the map. Clearly, among his many charms, his father had also been a stalker.
A snide voice at the back of his head reminds him he stalked Draco as well. Harry tells the voice to shut up.
He is almost by the great oak doors when someone bumps into him from behind.
"What the-" a familiar voice says confusedly, and loud enough so Remus and Sirius notice.
Sirius smirks, Remus sighs, and the bastard because of whom he was found out rolls his eyes with a whispered, "Potter."
Either way, Harry is trapped between Remus and Sirius, and Draco behind him. And no, he most certainly is not leaning toward the blonde because he wants to. The blonde is just the lesser of two evils.
Harry decides to just suck it up and get it over with. He pulls off the Cloak and backs up, making sure not to bump into the Dra- Malfoy again.
Sirius' grin is absolutely feral.
"Now, Sirius, remember who's got the wand," Harry says drawing said wand, still backing away as Sirius closes in on him. "And besides, you don't want to kill me. I'm your best mate's son...really, you shouldn't kill your best mate's son. Haven't you learned anything from Wormtail?" Harry ignores Draco's snort. (Malfoy, his mind reminds him belatedly.) He has bigger problems: Namely, his godfather looking like a dog cornering a kitten. "Be-besides, I'm the Boy Who Lived Twice. You can't kill me. The Wizarding world would never forgive you!"
Sirius was only five feet away. Harry decides to plead with Remus, the reasonable of the two. The one who looks fairly amused by Harry's speech. "Come on, Remus. I'm your son's godfather. You can't let my godfather kill me! The guilt would ruin you, and you'd fall into depression when Sirius gets thrown into Azkaban again, and then you won't be able to take care of Teddy, and you'll turn bitter and... and... Snape-like! Yes, Sna-Snape..." Three feet away. Harry is pressed against the stone wall. "Honestly, no one wants to be related to Snape, do they? Look at Malfoy!"
"Oy, leave me out of this."
"Like, Snape was his mentor, yeah? Look how that turned-" Harry's breathing is cut off as Sirius pounces on him, effectively cutting off his wind-pipe.
This is it, Harry thinks. Death by asphyxiation. Honestly, hasn't he almost died enough times?
"Black! Potter! Lupin!" Harry vaguely wonders how many times those names have shouted in his father's time. Through his teary eyes, Harry can see McGonagall walking toward them, followed by half of Hogwarts.
Relief! Harry's wind pipe cheers. In his lack of oxygen state, he fails to notice Sirius is not strangling him, rather hugging him quite fiercely.
Upon spotting Harry and Sirius, McGonagall closes her eyes, and Harry just knows "Fifty points from Gryffindor" is at the tip of her tongue. Remus is attempting to blend into the stonework. Behind the Headmistress are Ron and Hermione, laughing at Harry's predicament. Harry mouths a discreet, "Traitors," at them. If anything, that sends them into fresh peals of laughter.
"Professor Black, kindly unhand Mr. Potter," comes McGonagall's clipped command.
"Certainly." Sirius suddenly lets go of Harry, causing him to stumble backwards into-
Draco's arms.
Harry suddenly hates his day with a passion. Why is the man still here anyhow? Harry moves away quickly, albeit reluctantly. Not daring to look back, his face flaming red.
"And all of you get back into the hall, please." The students follow the Headmistress' order, grumbling about the unfairness. "Yes, you too, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. I am sure Mr. Potter can do without your help."
The two Harry mistakenly calls best friends scurry back inside with apologetic looks over their shoulders.
The stern woman turns back to her successor as Transfiguration. "I will leave you to sort this out. Quietly."
Sirius only flashes a charming smile. The Headmistress leaves, muttering about interminable pranksters.
"She still likes me," Sirius says fondly.
Remus snorts, stepping forward with his hand held out to Harry. "Our wands, please."
Harry gives a nervous look at his godfather who is giving a deranged smile. "You're not going to kill me, are you?"
Remus smiles softly, looking thoroughly amused. "No, you're right. James would never forgive us if we killed you now."
Harry isn't convinced, although he does hand over the wands rather reluctantly, making sure to grip his own firmly in case Sirius decides to hex him anyhow. But his godfather only looks at him fondly and mutters, "Hellish brat. I wasn't going to hex you."
"Oh really?" Harry says, looking thoroughly unconvinced.
"I was going to thank you." Sirius winks, and Remus blushes, and Harry knows the hours spent in the Room of Requirement were a success.
Before Harry can so much as grin and say a hearty told you so, the Blonde-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-Harry-Doesn't-Know-Whether-To-Call-Him-Draco-Or-Malfoy clears his throat, holding the Cloak out for Harry.
Harry takes the Cloak, forgetting all about Sirius, and Remus, and locked rooms. All he can concentrate on are those long pale fingers holding the silky magical material. Then Harry blinks,and the moment is gone. He turns away with a brisk, "Thanks. Come on, hopefully there's some pudding left."
The last is said to Sirius and Remus, who haven't moved, but are staring between Harry and Draco almost...nervously?
Harry hears Draco- because clearly, Harry is ruined and can no longer think of the man as just Malfoy no matter how much he convinces himself- swear. "Potter."
Harry continues to walk away quickly, wanting- needing- to put as much distance as possible between him and the other man.
"Potter!"
…
"Harry!"
And Harry looses it. Without thinking, without meaning to, Harry whips around, wand trained on the blonde, and only one word comes to mind with Sirius and Remus just standing there, wide-eyed, between the two old nemesis.
Levicorpus!
Harry stalks forward until he is almost under Draco, releases him, catches him before he hits the ground, and slams him against the wall. "Don't call me Harry, bastard."
Draco sneers, but it doesn't quite have the same effect since his face is red from hanging upside down for a few seconds. "I assure you my parents were married when I was born."
Harry pulls Draco forward by his collar and slams him back. "Fuck. You."
The other man lets out a low, throaty laugh. "You already have."
"Yeah, before you decided to pretend you like pussy instead of-"
A deliberate cough cuts Harry off followed by Remus's soft voice. "This is a school, you know."
Horrified, the dark-haired man lets go of Draco, flushing as he realizes what he has said- what he has revealed.
"Er..." Because really, what more can he say?
Draco flushes red, tugging his robes closer about him, looking everywhere except Sirius and Remus.
"No need to look you've seen the Grim," Sirius says. When Harry opens his mouth, he goes on, "No, I look nothing like the Grim."
Harry stares, stricken and slightly relieved his godfather knows. But he doesn't think he can face him. Not with Draco right here. Especially not with Draco right here.
What is he supposed to say? I'm a miserable poof who can't get over the first (and only) bloke he slept with, oh and by the way, said bloke is going to be married soon? No thanks. He'd rather not be more embarrassed than he already is.
He can't even look the two professors in the eye. Now he knows what all those concerned, knowing looks have been about these last few months. He briefly wonders how long they've known, but decides he's better off not knowing.
Sure that all his Gryffindor courage has abandoned him, Harry turns on his heel and walks onto the grounds to think.
He goes to the courtyard where Ron, Hermione, and he had spent countless break hours over the years. It is a familiar place and one which he is glad for. It is quiet, the setting son casting shadows around the hedges and trees.
He doesn't know how long he stood there, his mind oddly blank, staring across the ground toward the white marble tomb.
It has been a year since the war; two since Albus Dumbledore died and Harry can't help but think somehow, things were easier back then.
At least then he knew what he had to do. Knew his whole life was defined by kill or be killed. The hunt, the chase, the search; it was all a part of him.
Then it was over, and his future was unencumbered, and Ginny wasn't what he needed, and Draco was. Draco was. He had told himself it was only for a while, that it was only trying to find himself, and figure out what he wanted, that, just because he liked sucking cock didn't mean he was gay as long as their quick shags were undisturbed by feelings. Because if feelings came into the mix, he knew he would be lost.
Harry promised himself it would be for the summer, then he would talk to Ginny when the funerals, and the media stalkers had gone. Summer turned into fall turned into winter. Come New Year's he was lost. Lost in a pair of grey orbs.
By the time Draco told him about his trip to France, Harry knew he was well and truly fucked. Knew he had fallen for his long time enemy.
Harry knows now what he hadn't known on May third of last year.
He wants Draco Malfoy. Sneers and all.
"Harry?"
Harry doesn't turn around as the owner of the familiar voice draws closer, followed by another pair of shuffling feet.
"'Lo." He's still looking out over the tombstone, watching as it turns different shades of red and orange, vaguely reminding hims of Fawkes.
"Sirius asked us to find you. Didn't know where you'd gone."
Harry nods absently as Hermione rests a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"I'm gay."
Ron snorts. "No shit."
Harry looks at his best friend bemusedly. "You know." It isn't a question.
Hermione smiles understandingly. "We don't care."
"Let's just say your obsession with Malfoy caught my interest this time round." Ron quirks a boyish grin at Harry. "And I've seen you ogle Remus' arse."
"I have not ogled at Remus' arse," Harry says defiantly, jutting his chin out.
Ron sniggers. "De Nile isn't just a river in Egypt." Harry shoves the red head playfully.
"Doesn't matter, does it? About to be married, isn't he?"
Hermione gives her patented eye roll. "You're Harry Potter. You always get what you want."
"Always?"
Ron claps him on the back. "Always, mate."
Just like that, Harry knows it's going to be alright. With Ron and Hermione with him like they always have been, he knows even if he doesn't get what he wants, he'll be alright with just trying.
And so it happens.
Harry finds out the reason why Draco was in the castle that day. (He's to take over Slughorn who insisted this time he really was retiring and no Chosen One would make him come out of it.) By the time Harry had gone back to the Great Hall, Draco was gone, and Harry hasn't seen him since.
He's halfway out the door on a warm mid-July evening, wearing the new clothes Ginny and Hermione have picked out for him. The green shirt Ginny swears makes him look like sex on legs and is he quite sure he's gay because she's still very willing, at which Ron sputters indignantly, and Harry laughs and pecks her on the cheek, theatrically whispering so Ron can still hear that she should meet him in room nine of the Leaky on Sunday.
Harry's pulling on his shoes when Sirius stands in the foyer, arms folded across his chest, stern expression on his face, looking every bit the parent that Harry is glad for half a second he's never really had two.
"Where d'you think you're going?"
"Drinks with Ron," Harry lies, not looking at Sirius in the eye, pretending his shoe laces are extremely difficult to tie.
He hasn't talked to his godfather about any of this. He doesn't know how he can. Harry's made sure not to stay around the two older men for too long, and learned to use Teddy as a buffer to avoid the inevitable conversation.
"Bullshit."
Harry freezes, looks up into that slowly reemerging handsome face that Azkaban had chipped away at. "Course I am."
"You're shite at lying. Are we going to talk about this like adults or are you going to keep avoiding it?"
Harry sighs, hoping to head the Animagus off before he went into a tirade. He shrugs nonchalantly. "Nothing to talk about. Yes, I'm gay. Yes, I was shagging Draco. Yes, he left to get married to a blonde bimbo. No, I've not gotten over it. No, I don't plan on getting over it. Yes, I want to stop the wedding. Does that answer all your questions?"
Apparently, it manages to shock him into speechlessness for a second, and Harry takes the opportunity to rush past him into the yard and Disapparate to Ortsac Street, a famous (and only) gay Wizarding district with infamous gay clubs.
Harry walks confidently to the bouncers standing by the VIP entrance, ignoring the long lines on either side. The bulky form, who looks suspiciously like Goyle, holds a hand out to Harry to stop him. This part is important, Harry knows. He needs to make sure people see.
He coolly raises an eyebrow at the bouncer. The man grunts, runs his wand over Harry, no doubt checking for concealment. When it is apparent he really is in fact, the real Harry Potter, the man nods and gruffly apologizes in a loud voice, clearly saying his name.
The careless laughing changes tone around him and men and women begin whispering some variation of 'Harry Potter? Really?' and 'Is-is it really him?' and 'He's gay? Harry Potter's gay?'
With a self-satisfied smirk, Harry walks into the club, the main part of the evening done. He looks around the bar, spots the man he's looking for, and grins.
Draco, he is certain, won't know what hit him.
A/N: Yay! Harry is done brooding! So...who exactly is this man? And what does Harry have planned with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny? We shall find out soon, m'dearies.
xoxo- MJ.