Chapter Three: What You Don't Know Can't Hurt.
"So, you were supposed to kill Dumbledore? But, you couldn't… And Harry still took you in? He really is a hero."
The sound of a knock resounded through the room, catching the storyteller and his listener off guard. Draco made no move for the portrait's entrance, too lost within his own head.
Davis rose to his feet, still at an age where manners mattered and opened the portrait door, finding a rather flushed young woman standing there, her hair as bushy as it was long, framing her face and thick eyebrows that rose higher than the bangs that sat gracelessly over her forehead.
"Davis," she breathed heavily, as if just completing a marathon. "Come on! We're going to be late for the party. If we get there and strategically place ourselves just so, I'm about ninety three percent certain that we can find ourselves in a picture with Harry Potter in the Daily Profit tomorrow morning."
Something about the precise measures of her tone brought Draco back to the present or the past rather.
"Lewis is already down there. You know how he can be with free food." She rolled her eyes and looked over Davis' shoulder to his company. "Are you still able to go?"
Davis glanced over at the boy that hadn't moved and subconsciously bit his lower lip in thought. "Give me a minute Jess, I'll be there, I promise."
She nodded and flew towards the staircase, climbing up from the chilling dungeons.
Draco sat as still as a statue, the only sign of his life being the rise and fall of his chest.
"You're going to Potter's Victory feast, I suppose," he stated matter-of-factly, not a question, purely fact.
Davis nodded. "Yes, it's said to be one of the grandest occasions of the year. You aren't attending?"
The hope in the boy's voice wavered as the silence commenced. "Perhaps I'll arrive later. Believe me; it will be hours before anyone considers leaving."
The younger boy's smile reappeared at Draco's words and he made leave for the party, stopping just before he closed the portrait door.
"If you wouldn't mind finishing your story later, I would love to hear how it ends." His voice was almost pleading, and Draco, with a small grin towards his younger roommate, agreed.
When the door closed, the blond slumped back into position, his knees coming to his stomach and supporting his chin. He sighed, and clamped his eyes shut, remembering bits and pieces of his story that he wouldn't be able to share with Davis. Not because he didn't want to, but he was bound, bound to the secret.
"This is what I am, Draco. What I've always been. It wasn't as if I was hiding. No one was really looking here." Harry smirked, a threatening look grazing his usually so calm features.
Draco shuddered at the memory.
"I know what you are Harry, but I've only ever wanted what you were."
:::
Davis paraded around the Grand Hall's floor in search of his friends. Spying them immediately, he sprinted to the table of refreshments and laughed whole heartedly as Lewis lost some of his treat onto his robes.
"Oi! I just had these cleaned!"
"You are hopeless, do you know that?"
"Well, at least I don't read the dictionary before bed," the messy preteen challenged.
Jessica slapped him gently against the back of his head, causing more food to fly as the three laughed in unison.
"Davis," Jessica finally began after recovering from her giggle fit, "Who was that man you were with earlier?"
"He's a seventh year. He was telling me about Harry."
Lewis' jaw dropped, along with his plate. "Harry Potter? The Harry Potter? Well, what did he say?"
"His name's Draco Malfoy-."
"I read all about the Malfoy family! Huge supporters of, well, you know…"
Davis waved his hand in disagreement. "Draco wasn't, well, he was, but he changed sides after he almost killed the old head-master. He couldn't though…"
"So, he was a Death Eater?"
Davis wasn't sure of how much information Draco would want him divulging, but he could trust his friends not to breed word of such touchy subjects.
"He was, but only for a brief time before the war. Harry took him in."
"Whom did I take in?" a voice interrupted, and by the look on Lewis' face, Davis could tell without turning that the man behind him was none other than Harry Potter. "I apologize, please, allow me to introduce myself. I'm-."
"You're Harry James Potter, son of Lily and James Potter, defeater of Voldemort, Seventh Year, first year Seeker for the Gryffindor Team and Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor Wizard winner."
Harry chuckled at the younger witch's enthusiasm and slight swooning. "I'm sorry I didn't request your background check miss…"
"Jessica Mirth, first year, Gryffindor." She reached for his extended hand and shook it with earnest, nearly crying out from the contact.
"So, Miss Mirth, can you tell me what it was that you and your friends were discussing?"
"Davis has met Draco Malfoy today; he was telling him stories about the war, right Davis?"
The boy nodded, feeling as though this was a horrible idea for reasons he could not quite understand.
"Draco was a wonderful asset during the war. I hope he paints a decent picture of me in his stories, Davis."
Harry left them, and in all the commotion, no one but the three younger students realized that he was gone at all.
There's so much more than I know, Davis thought, making an effort to not run after the hero.
:::
Draco flinched when the door to his common room opened. Maybe it had been hours since he moved. Time became a nuisance since the end of the war, and he tended to forget how long he stayed dormant for.
Assuming the presence behind him was Davis, he continued to just watch the fire, unalarmed by the younger Slytherin.
It was only when a pair of arms wrapped around him and a warm chest pressed to his back did he finally stir to reality. He knew the embrace too well.
"Some people are offended when their invites aren't returned, Draco," Harry purred, peppering light kisses to the back of Draco's exposed neck. The goose bumps already began to rise and Draco's heart began to flutter. Whether it was from nerves or terror, he couldn't tell, but he hoped the reaction would die.
"Why haven't you come down to the party? Everyone's there and it's so very boring without you."
Harry continued his assault by moving to Draco's ear, nibbling gently on the lobe before biting down roughly. The Slytherin moaned, mentally berating himself and unconsciously leaned into the toned body behind him.
Mustering enough will power, he pushed Harry away and stood to his feet.
A little shaken by the previous encounter, he cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn't fail him.
"You shouldn't be in here, Potter."
Harry could only smile, a smile that told Draco he knew exactly where the blond had really wanted him, and that involved no one at the present moment leaving this room.
The hero took a few steps towards the stubborn Slytherin, and waited for him to back away, loving the idea of a chase.
"You don't want me to leave, do you?"
"Go. Away. Scarhead," he said through a stiff jaw and clenched teeth. "Go back to your adoring fans, let them fawn over a lie."
"And what lie would that be Draco?"
Draco made his mouth move, but no words escaped.
"Ah, that's right; you can't breed word of it at all. Even to that first year you've decided to share our story with." Again, Draco shivered, liking, more than he should, the way the words 'our story' fell from Harry's lips.
"Is that what you came here for? It isn't as if I can break the bond, why do you care if I tell Davis anything?"
"Oh, so the first year has a name. I never knew you cared enough to use first names anymore. Should I be hurt that you could find yourself to befriend him so quickly?"
"Please leave." Draco rarely ever asked for anything, he simply commanded. But, Harry wasn't just anyone. He was the only person capable of putting Draco in his place, the only person who could control him.
Harry closed the space between them, leaving only an inch between their bodies. Slowly, he reached to cup Draco's cheek, reveling in its softness.
"Your skin is perfect," he decided, brushing the offending hair away with his other hand. "So smooth, flawless, pale."
Leaning forward, Draco held his breath. A pair of lips attached themselves to his forehead and he gasped. It was such a sweet gesture that it had almost made Draco forget. But, Harry always had the power to manipulate him.
"I've missed you Draco," he said, ghosting his lips over the blond's.
"I miss you too," he admitted, and he really had missed Harry, his Harry. The one that held him with no motive, the one that told him he was beautiful and worth something, actually meaning it. Yes, he really missed that man.
And as if those were the magic words, Harry crashed his lips to Draco's, sharing the same air. Draco hadn't told his hands to wind themselves into ebony locks, but they had on their own accord, still in wonder of how they could be so soft, and still hold their unkempt tendencies.
The Slytherin could have cried, defeated again by his own weakness. He settled for maintaining the contact and fussing about it later.
Too soon though, the contact was broken as a heavy clearing of the throat sounded.
Breaking the intense moment, Draco practically flung himself from the Boy-Who-Lived, only to be pulled back against his chest.
"Hello, Davis," Harry welcomed with a grin, his voice husky.
"H-hi, I, um, well, got tired of the party. I'm really sorry I interrupted."
"Oh, no, it's quite alright." The flush upon Davis' cheek could almost compete with Draco's if his skin weren't so translucent. "I was just readying myself to leave anyway."
The blond looked up at emerald eyes filled with wickedness.
"Good night, love," he whispered, emphasizing his intentions by placing a chaste kiss to Draco's hair. He let his pointer finger drag over the length of his opposite's bottom lip, satisfied with the heated reaction, and detangled himself, leaving without another word.
When the Slytherin wizards were alone, Draco leaned against a near wall, needing its support more than he thought he ever could.
"Safe to say that you and Harry are a little more than friends."
Draco nodded, shutting his eyes in fear of seeing the judgment in another's.
"I'm sure that comes up later in the story…"
"You would never believe the things that come up."
Davis took a seat on the couch. "After seeing that, try me."
The older wizard opened his eyes and followed Davis' lead to the seat.
"The things I'll tell you are for you to know, and you alone. Do you understand?"
Davis agreed and Draco breathed, bringing himself to begin again.