Another chapter! See I promised I would try and update as much as I could this summer. Thank you guys so much for your support, so many of you have followed this story. Now lets see if we can get some more reviews in there, I really need to know what everyone thinks of the story, whats good whats bad and such. On that note, I do believe that this should be a rather fun chapter. ;) But don't get ahead of yourselves.
The room was dark; entirely too dim for the middle of the day. His surroundings smelled of a pungent odder, that of people and whatever that may consist of, as well as the unmistakable reek of desperation. His feet were sticking to the floor in his, rather expensive, upmarket shoes and he was hesitant to sit down at the nearly empty bar in his flowing designer black robes. Yes, Draco Malfoy was extremely uncomfortable and stuck out like a sore thumb in whatever dingy pub Harry had chosen for lunch.
Draco lifted the heavy pint he was drinking with as little of his own hand as possible, careful to only touch the cloudy glass with two fingers, and definitely not with his pinky extended. He tossed back a swig of the drink, cringing slightly as the amber shite that resided in his glass, slid down his throat. Draco much preferred a glass of fine red wine. He hopped Harry hadn't noticed his discomfort.
Glass still lifted to his mouth, though not wishing to take another unpleasant sip, Draco sneaked a glance at the wizard beside him. Harry, on the other hand, did not seem to mind the pub at all, in fact, he looked entirely too comfortable.
"So," Draco finally put down the still practically full glass. Harry, he noticed, had already finished his and was looking to order another, "you come here often then?" Draco hoped the slight disgust was not detectable in his tone. Harry tore his attention from the bar tender preparing him another drink to offer Draco a rather amused look.
"Often enough I suppose," He reached to scratch his head, pushing back the locks that had fallen in his face, then made to look back towards the tender. Draco watched, not wholly surprised as the bar man handed Harry his second drink with a familiar smile and a quiet, "On the house Harry," before he magically started cleaning empty glasses. Harry, in response, simply tipped his head in thanks and began downing the pint with practiced ease.
Loss for words, Draco noticed his foot nervously start tapping the floor beneath him where he was seated at the bar. Now more than ever he was wishing he had not suggested Harry pick the venue of their lunch. He looked around for a menu, eager now to have something to shove in his mouth. He needed a proper excuse for the looming uncomfortable silence, more so than the sludge lingering in his glass. He chuckled lightly, the noise sounding awkward to his own ears, he swallowed. "So do they have descent food here?" Draco gave a tight smirk, "I'm famished."
Harry, now done with his second glass, looked over to Draco briefly before banging his hand lightly on the table top of the bar, easily gaining the attention of the tender, "Benji, can we get a menu please," he motioned his head towards where Draco sat to his right, "my friend is ready to order." He smiled then, though Draco noticed, with practiced watchful eyes, that it wasn't the seldom, rather shy, smile Harry normally gave. No, this one seemed experienced, or rather a facade.
Now curious, Draco studied the other wizard more closely. Harry wore something usual for him, simple jeans, a gray V-neck, and his usual hoop and glasses. Yet, as Draco soon noticed, while pretending to gaze at the menu now in hand, Harry also wore something else, something Draco had yet to fully see before. Though Harry's posture and attitude reeked familiarity and comfort in such pub, he was anything but at ease. To Draco's watchful eyes he quickly picked up on the hidden discomfort of the smaller wizard beside him. Also, as he too caught onto, Harry seemed to adopt a whole new persona whiles in the presence of the public. No longer was he out with the man he had learned to know during his month at Draco's club. No, along with his usual attire, Harry wore a mask.
The beefy bar tender, Benji, grudgingly handed him a, rather slimy, folded menu. The man scowled openly at Draco's faded dark mark before going back to tending the rest of the bar. Draco resisted rolling his eyes and ignored the wizard's prejudice.
He then licked his lips and finally decided to properly inspect the menu. As he had expected, nothing seemed appealing. He straighten his back, trying to maintain some sort of decorum before gaining Harry's attention once more, "Any suggestions? I'm afraid this isn't my usual type of lunch in." He quickly glanced across the pub before nodding his head towards the menu.
Harry, who himself had not even bothered to open his own menu, turned his mask onto Draco. He smirked and too gestured around their surroundings, "Yeah, I didn't really take you as a bar man," he quirked his eyebrow at the other wizard's robes, "Always been rather flashy, haven't you?" He turned away then, now staring down the bar tender again, for what Draco assumed, another stiff drink.
Draco stiffened then, he most certainly did not appreciate this masked Harry, who dripped fake esteem and confidence. This was not who Harry was, not this bar stool frequenter who guzzled down drink after drink and knew the biased bar staff on a first name basis. Not the Harry, at least, that Draco had come to know. Sure, Harry had only been associated with his business for a little more than a month, yet during that short time, Draco had studies the other boy well. This was not Harry and that did nothing short but infuriate the Dominant.
Surprising even himself, Draco roughly picked up his pint and downed it in no more than three swallows. As he was counting on, Harry's entire attention now landed on him, along with his shocked expression and slack jaw, "Damn Malfoy, didn't know you had it in you." Harry then licked his lips and ducked his eyes down to his trainers. Noticing his blush, Draco couldn't help but to sneer in triumph. Good, the mask had slipped. He turned then slightly in the bar stool to shoot piercing grey eyes at the still blushing brunette. "You ready to drop this act and really talk to me like I know you want to?"
He watched as Harry swallowed and then, for the first time in a month, shrugged his shoulders. Closing his eyes, Draco took a calming breath before reopening them to, once again, gaze at Harry. No, they would not take a step back. Though as of yet all his could be dominant partners had been a failure, Draco had indeed noticed changes in the boy that had entered his Keep so desperate. "Harry," he softly lifted the man's chin with his pinky so as to meet his eyes, "what is the matter?" Draco didn't offer a smile, just a simple understanding look with his eyes. Harry did not need tenderness right now, he needed guidance.
Harry just shook his head, and dropped his eyes to his lap once more. Draco watched as he seemed to struggle with maintaining his mask. He watched, with a patient gaze, as Harry's face contracted and morphed from one emotion to another. After several long moments of silence, however, Draco deemed it time to intervene. He dropped his voice to a deep whisper, so only Harry could hear, "Prey, what is the matter?" He made sure to speak each term slowly, placing jutting importance to each word. He placed his hand on the nape of the other's neck; an act meant to calm, as well as assert Draco's dominance.
Finally, after a pause or two, Harry looked up from his lap once more before locking green eyes with Draco's grey before, politely, bowing them down again. Draco, in response, squeezed where his hand rested on Harry's neck.
"I'm," Harry swallowed thickly, "concerned." He spoke just those two words, but Draco nodded anyway in understanding. He did, however, slit his eyes to silently urge Harry to continue. The other peeked from his submissive gaze to gauge Draco's reaction before closing his eyes all together as he let out a sigh. "It's been a whole month, Sir, and I seem to be no closer to finding," he seemed to search for the proper word, "the appropriate solution, then I was when I came to you for help in the first place." His voice sounded hollow, and his jaw obviously stiff from frustration.
Draco fully understood however. He too was feeling near desperation for finding a match for Harry. He had promised he would help him. He owed Harry at least that much after all he had done for Draco personally after the war. Nevertheless, however, he could not allow Harry to see his personal worry for the situation. Instead, Draco only nodded and began rubbing his thumb around the bone on the base of Harry's neck. "I told you I would help you, and I am trying to." He took a deep breath, "Finding the proper dominant match for anyone can be tricky, there's a lot of trial and error." Draco lowered his voice once more, "Harry, we will simply continue on with the test runs and," before he could finish his sentence, however, he felt Harry's magic spike and angry daggered eyes were shot in Draco's direction.
"I'm sick of the bloody fucking 'test runs', Dragon Sir." His voice was low, dangerous, and dripped with scorning bitterness as he practically spit out Draco's dominant title. Though his eyes were on fire and Harry's powerful magic began to swarm within him, Draco merely tightened his hold on the other's nape, with a controlling roughness, and glowered the fuming wizard down with stone cold eyes.
"Calm yourself," he stood then to gain more leverage over the situation, never breaking eye contact, "now!" He didn't yell, but instead demanded in a threatening, harsh, under the breath, tone. He didn't need the patrons in the pub, no matter how scarce, to pay them much mind. That would only embarrass Harry. The later who was now taking deep calming breaths over Draco's heeding threat. Slowly, Draco felt the other wizard's magic settle back down to the usual buzz. Though still powerful, no longer was it threatening as before.
"Good Prey," Draco sat then, removing his hand from the smaller man's neck, to gravitate it to his knee instead. He squeezed, "Harry." He softened his eyes and again lifted Harry's chin so the other's eyes met his own. He saw the green pools calming, along with flecks of resentment and shame. Draco hummed in the back of his throat, eyes still locked with Harry's. "Listen to me well and you will not interrupt me again. Nod if you understand boy." He did. "Now, I understand, please know this. I cognize this is all very challenging for you. I know you are frustrated, but that is completely fathomable." Draco absent mindedly began drawing smooth circles over Harry's knee. Harry stayed seated at his stool at the bar, head bowed and hands obediently clasped together in his lap. So at least the dominant failures had taught the new sub proper manners. That was something.
"I as well as anyone, Harry, know how it feels to be uncertain. I have gone through what you are right now. Never mind the actual circumstances, but the emotional turmoil you are experiencing," Draco broke away from staring at the still sub to gaze somewhere beyond the rafters of the pub, "I know how it feels to not distinguish what is going to happen next, and being utterly terrified the entire journey." Draco then removed his hand from the other's knee to stroke the leather string on his own wrist, "But Harry, contentment takes time and patience." Not to mention help.
He sat up then and began smoothing out his long black robes, picking invisible dust from his sleeves in the process. Harry didn't move. Sparing Harry one last heated look, one ignored by the other's hidden eyes, Draco stepped towards the exit of the pub. Once at the wooden door he turned and leaned against the frame and waited. When the other didn't turn, he quirked his eyebrow and with skill, aimed a light stinging hex at the other's bum.
Harry's head shot up, his eyes enquiring and his face slightly accosted. Draco chuckled lightly and offered the still hesitant man a small smile, "You coming Potter?" He jerked his head towards the street just outside the pub, "I'm starving and this rutty slump offers none of the fine dining a proper Malfoy is accustomed too." He turned and walked out of the dark pub, but not before he shouted back over his shoulder, "Shrugging Harry, It's an unbecoming gesture."
"So then right when he was about to catch it, I swooped right from underneath his nose and grabbed the snitch." Harry laughed before taking a swig of his wine. "Man, I really do miss playing though, too bad they stopped having the rec games at the local pitch"
Draco nodded, whiles slowly swirling his own red wine, and offered up a pleased smile. He had now been listening to Harry spiel about his best recalled quidditch memories with happy silence. He had decided he enjoyed the lightness in Harry's eyes entirely too much the more of his drink he consumed. Harry on the other hand, was much giddier, as he had had much more at the pub. They had now, at a venue of Draco's choosing, easily finished off two full plates of the fresh lobster, Harry's first time ever trying such, and were now waiting on the dessert they had ordered. Draco's secret indulgence; tiramisu drizzled with a light sauce of fire whiskey, would be a fine way to end their dinner. He watched, while sipping the last bit of his drink, as Harry eagerly continued on his happy chatter.
"Did you happen to catch the match last month between the Hollyhead Harpies and the Tutshill Tornados?" He continued on without pause, "It was bloody fantastic, Ginny practically had control of the whole pitch." He laughed a rather bitter laugh before regaining his smile, "She's doing well for herself." He shut up then, as their cake had finally arrived. Harry stared at the tantalizing cake without shame. Draco too had to admit it was hard not to simply dive right in. Instead, however, he gingerly reached for his fork before nudging it lightly in Harry's direction. Harry took the fork with no hesitation and dug it into the chocolate desert. He then lifted the loaded fork to his lips, an act Draco certainly did not find temptingly seductive, and took his first bite. He closed his eyes. The groan Harry then admitted did nothing but fuel the sexual fire Draco was failing to subdue. Merlin, he had had one to many glasses certainly.
"It's delicious, is it not?" Draco nodded his head to the cake and reached to take the fork Harry was offering to him. He forked off a rather large bite himself and, as politely as he could, shoveled it down. He too closed his eyes and groaned from delight. It really was exquisite cake.
"To answer your question though," Draco lightly patted the corners of his mouth with his black cloth napkin, "I did happen to see the most recent game between the Harpies and Tornadoes." He considered his words then, "The she weasel, she plays rather well, blandly," he had to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh at Harry's astonished appearance. Draco took another bite of cake, chewed slowly, swallowed, then continued, "she has, at best, a handful of maneuvers and strategies, ones of which all Harpy followers have seen at least a dozen times each." Wandlessly, Draco magically filled his glass halfway before taking a sip and peeking over his wine glass to smirk over at the scowling wizard across from him.
"You have to be out of your snooty pureblood mind to think that Gin isn't amazing at what she does. I mean hell," he wildly gestured to nothing in particular, "her team is practically undefeated!" Harry too refilled his glass and took a hearty drink.
"I never said they weren't a well advised team. I mean obviously something is working for them to be what?" he thought for a bit, prompting Harry. "I think third?" Harry answered before taking a last bite of cake. That sounded right so they both nodded. Harry pushed the rest of the plate over to Draco's side of the table. Draco considered it before finishing the desert off.
"Yes, to be third in the league the Harpies are doing something right, yet all I'm saying," Harry was already shaking his head in disapproval, "Oh hush, all I am saying is that she's rather bland to watch play. Yes her moves are amazingly skilled, but there's only so many times a man can watch the same maneuver before becoming oh so excruciatingly jaded." He pushed the now bare plate away to the middle of the table and leaned back in his chair. Draco ran his hand through his perfectly purposeful disheveled hair. He was getting rather sleepy, their dinner and drinks slowly kicking his arse.
"Besides, for the exact opposite reason, I much prefer watching the Falmouth Falcons play. Every game is different when they enter the pitch." He then looked pointedly at Harry, daring him to argue.
"The fuck Draco, they practically murder their opponents each match!" He began to once again refill his glass before Draco minutely shook his head no. Harry stopped his magic and pushed his glass aside, listening.
"Exactly," Draco smirked and sat up to leave the restaurant. Harry made to follow, "Never boring."
Once outside the cool fall air hit hard and, deciding it wouldn't be a pleasant of enough walk back, extended his arm to Harry for side along. Harry easily accepted and in a crack Draco apparated them back to the side street of Diagon Alley and to the outside of his club. On the landing, both being rather tipsy if not more, the two stumbled. Draco quickly reached out and steady the smaller man. Harry murmured a slurred 'thanks', before turning to take his leave.
"Thanks again Malfoy, Ill," Harry stopped suddenly and turned back around to face the owner of the club, "Shit, I forgot some of my stuff in the club, I think they could still be in the room I was in earlier."
Together they then entered the still bustling club, taking the business entrance to avoid the sweaty grinding bustle of the dance floor. Harry easily peeled away from the other wizard to go retrieve whatever possessions he had forgotten. Tired and entirely ready to slip into his comfortable bed, Draco slandered slowly to his office. With a tap of his wand he unlocked it and slipped inside, wondering if Harry would blunder in to tell him goodnight. When he heard a soft knock at the door he couldn't help but smile. He magically unlocked it with another quick flick of his wand. Seconds later, Harry's messy mop of hair peeked around the edge of the door.
"I got them, I guess I'll see you bright and early in the morning then?"
Draco nodded from where he was seated on the couch. That was right, Harry had his appointment with Lev tomorrow. He had completely forgotten. He noticed he was still nodding his head and quickly stopped, in fear he had embarrassed himself. Harry, however, too was awkwardly nodding his head from where he stood at the door. After a pause though, he entered the office and made to sit beside Draco on the leather sofa. Both men sat stiffly side by side, not looking at one another. Finally, Draco broke the silence, "I'd get a full night of sleep tonight Potter, Sir Lev," he chuckled nervously like he had done previously at that dingy pub, "can be a handful if you will." His only response was Harry nodding again from beside him, before adding in a slurred whisper, "Yes Dragon." Draco tried his hardest to ignore how right though words sounded coming from the man beside him.
Ignoring that though, however, he then dragged himself off the couch and turned to offer Harry a hand to pull him up as well. Both really needed to get to bed. "Thank you Harry," he lifted the other up with one arm, only to have the dead weight of an intoxicated Harry fall forward onto him, "for such a lovely evening." His mouth had gone completely dry as Harry was indeed too close. Both men locked eyes, grey once more to green and stared. Both men swallowed, seemingly at the same time, before they all but crashed their mouths onto the others.
The kiss started rough, too rough as if both were struggling for complete control, Draco, of course, won. He forcefully pushed Harry back onto the sofa, himself still standing to better maintain the leverage he needed for control. He roughly placed his hand on one cheek of the other man's face, not hard enough to be considered a slap but not gentle in the slightest. Harry mewed and Draco slowed the kiss down, adding the bit of tenderness that both men now craved. They stayed like that, lips locked, slowly kissing before Draco came back to his right of mind. He yanked himself away from Harry, as if hexed, and turned abruptly to face the wall opposite the other, fist yanking roughly at his hair.
"Harry we can't, don't you understand that we, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter can't possibly do something so," He turned around, only to be faced with Harry, passed out cold on his leather office sofa. He wanted to yell in frustration, but instead walked back over to the couch and easily lifted the other wizard in his arms, he started up the stairs to his flat, "something so foolishly wonderful."
Once in the flat, Harry in hand, he gingerly carried the sleeping boy to his king size bed. "Because, of course something so outlandish could never transpire between us," he carefully placed Harry down on his bed, his dark locks of hair blending smoothly with Draco's black silk sheets. The blonde pulled up the comforter from the foot of the bed and tucked it up to Harry's chin, "because," he bent his head down to tenderly place a peck on the lightning bolt scar of the savior's forehead, "I would fail you."
That night, Draco slept on the couch in his office.