The Lovers of Azkaban
Disclaimer: None of the Characters from Harry Potter belong to me, they belong to JK Rowling.
Summary: Slash Harry/Draco. Sent to Azkaban together, the pair finds themselves immersed in the Adventure of their lives and in something else completely unexpected...
A/N: Thank you for the reviews.
Chapter Nine: Contacts
Draco and Harry had played three games of chess altogether and Draco had won them all; the first two in a matter of minutes. Harry had suggested that they try some of the other games the room provided and felt a childish joy when he had beaten Draco in a round of Wizard Checkers.
The two sat on the couch reading after that and a couple of hours later, Harry suggested they eat lunch. They moved to the kitchen area and begin to look through the stores of food. The room had provided a veritable banquet of delicacies for the escapees. Harry pulled down a roast beef meal complete with potatoes and vegetables and frowned when he saw Draco's choice. He had selected something called blood sausage and the moving photo on the box showed a piece of meat in the form of a wiener, but larger, much redder and covered in what looked to be blood.
They carried their meals and glasses to the table and cast the preparation spells. Harry looked at Draco's plate and felt bile rising to his throat. The reality was worse than the photo and it smelled vile.
Draco saw Harry's look of displeasure and began laughing, 'a delicacy; costly and delicious. You should try it, you would be pleasantly surprised.'
Harry shook his head, 'that's ok. I'll stick with poor man's food.'
Draco laughed again, 'you know, you really don't get anywhere in life if you are not willing to try new things.'
Harry looked at the 'food' on Draco's plate and swallowed. For some reason Draco's words were provoking; he liked to think of himself as a person who would try new things.
'Ok, give me a piece of it' Harry said hesitantly.
Draco smiled and cut a small piece of the meat away and placed it on Harry's plate. Harry stared at the meat for a few moments as if it might start talking to him before finally lifting it with his fork. He closed his eyes and plopped it into his mouth and began to chew, his face a bit screwed up.
Draco watched Harry in amusement remembering his first time trying the horrible looking entrée, but since then he'd come to like it a lot. Suddenly Harry opened his eyes and smiled, swallowing the meat.
'It isn't half bad' he declared smiling.
Draco laughed again, 'well you're stuck with your tasteless beef now. But I am sure there is more blood sausage. You can have some another time.'
Harry laughed a little, 'well you can't say I won't give things a try.'
Draco's smile faded a bit as he nodded his reply. Harry's statement had awoken something uncomfortable within him.
The two began to talk about Quidditch while they ate; the conversation was comfortable and for Harry it was almost surreal. He hadn't had a relaxing conversation in a very long time. During the three years of the war, his conversations with everyone were concentrated on their efforts. Even in moments of calm when he, Hermione and Ron found themselves waiting for action, they discussed the war.
Harry realized in that moment that for the first time in three years, he felt completely safe – free from danger, capture or death. He knew it was likely only temporary, but he relaxed into his chair and began to fully enjoy the light banter and heated opinions they were sharing on a topic of little consequence.
When the young men had finished and cleaned up the kitchen area, Draco yawned and said he planned to have a nap. Harry looked at the big comfortable bed and nodded his head; he was tired and a nap sounded fantastic. He was sure he must be weary due to a lack of activity. The two climbed into the huge bed on opposite sides and stretched out on top of the coverlet.
Draco kept his eyes glued to the ceiling above him; he was suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable with his thoughts. A mad desire began stealing over him to make some sort of physical contact with Harry. He knew it wasn't a pure sexual need; this was something else. He just wanted to touch him – anywhere; his arm, his leg, it didn't matter at all. He ran a hand down his face and wondered what was coming over him. He had never had a homosexual tendency in his life; he was not even sure that the desire he felt could be categorized as a homosexual tendency.
Harry drifted rather quickly into a light sleep; he was slipping into a dream, a nebulous dream where he was taking coffee alone in a bar. He felt some urgency; he had to find Voldemort before the Dark Lord moved again. However he didn't want to leave, there was something pressing on his leg and it was warm and lovely feeling; he wanted to stay and keep letting it touch him. If he stood up to leave, the warmth wouldn't go with him and the thought saddened him. The warmth moved a little against his leg again…
Harry drifted slowly back to consciousness and realized the warmth against his leg was real – he peered down and noticed that Draco's leg was pressed against his. The Slytherin had obviously turned in his sleep and pressed it against him unknowingly. Harry turned onto his side away from Draco taking his leg with him and closed his eyes once more.
Draco, lying on his belly – having turned to make the contact – felt a wave of disappointment pass quickly through him when Harry had moved. The warmth of Harry's leg next to his had given him a feeling of satisfaction – it seemed to answer to something that was crawling around inside of him. The few dreams he had where he had been touching Harry in a more profound manner seemed to have posed the question. He couldn't comprehend the question; he didn't understand the answer either – but he had a feeling that he would not be able to stop himself from further exploration of both in the future.
Hermione looked at herself in the small mirror of the muggle motel room she and Blaise had rented. The robes Snape had provided were beautiful and more fashionable than anything she had ever owned. Her reflection told her that she actually was a very beautiful girl and the thought pleased her extraordinarily for some reason.
Blaise sat on the bed playing with the muggle television control. The shows that were broadcast were of little interest to him; however, he found adjusting the color and picture to be highly entertaining. He glanced at Hermione and noted she had on her new robe. She looked lovely – even beautiful; it was really too bad, he thought, that unworthy blood coursed through her veins. Her muggle blood wouldn't stop him from bedding her however, and the idea excited him. He wondered if she would be willing to fully act out their little charade of a romance, he could tell her interest in him had been piqued.
'Tomorrow we will apparate to Hogsmeade and begin our assignment.' Blaise declared casually while pressing one of the controls on the remote and infusing everything on the screen with an ugly green color.
'Do you have something specific in mind for us to do?' Hermione's tone was businesslike and a little distracted.
'Yes. We will move through the taverns and stores, cuddled up together as if we are relishing our new found love. Snape indicated that we were ousted from the Order as of yesterday, so we might also speak to anyone we meet and loudly between ourselves about our displeasure with the Order.'
Hermione moved to the bed and sat on the edge, staring at Blaise. 'That doesn't sound very difficult.'
'Should be easy; if my memory serves me correctly, you are rather brilliant' Blaise said smiling. He set down the remote control device and gave her his full attention.
Hermione blinked a little and looked down. He was much too attractive – and he could obviously be very charming when he wanted to. She sat back against the headboard and picked up the remote control, pulling the green from the picture. 'Thank you' she replied staring into the television.
'You look great.' Blaise said softly
'Thank you' Hermione replied again flushing a little.
'I was thinking' Blaise invented, 'it might be a good idea for us to practice being romantic with one another. It will be more realistic when we move to do so in front of others.' His tone was casual and his face impassive.
Hermione put down the remote and turned to look at Blaise, noting his impassive features, 'I think we'll manage just fine tomorrow' her tone matched his for casualness.
Blaise shrugged, 'just a suggestion, we are going to have to do a great deal of acting; I just thought a bit of rehearsal wouldn't hurt.'
His tone was nonchalant, but Hermione had the feeling that he didn't believe they needed to practice anymore than she did. The idea was completely inane; one or two kisses or hugs – or what ever he considered 'practice' would do little to assist them the next day. Nonetheless she felt something stir inside of her at the thought that he would try and use the situation as an excuse to kiss or hug her.
Hermione wondered at her feelings; she was certain it was his looks and charm that were attracting her – she didn't even really know him. What she did know of him was a million bits and pieces of information and memories acquired during their five and a half years at Hogwarts. All of it added up to very little and most of it was likely no longer pertinent. To her mind, that made her feelings shallow and not worth pursuing.
Blaise abruptly moved and sat beside her, putting his arm about her shoulders. Hermione jumped and edged her body away from him.
Blaise laughed, 'if that is what you call good acting, then we may as well forget the assignment now.'
Hermione relaxed her body once more, 'don't be ridiculous that was completely unexpected. I did quite well this afternoon when you kissed me quite suddenly.'
Blaise regarded her face curiously, 'you did actually. Is it that you only work well under pressure?'
Hermione moved forward and his arm fell from her shoulder, 'let's just say, yes.'
Blaise laughed again and picked up the remote. He began flipping through the channels as he moved back to his side of the bed.
Hermione leaned against the headboard again and watched Blaise out of the corner of her eye. A memory had returned to her, something Luna had told her. Blaise got his beautiful looks from his beautiful mother – a woman who had had seven husbands, all of which died under mysterious circumstances after leaving her mounds of gold. Hermione began to wonder if Blaise might have inherited traits other than beauty and charm from his attractive mother. She sighed a little thinking that she would have to tread carefully. In addition to attractive and charming, Blaise might be a very dangerous man.
Harry awoke with a start and looked about him and then relaxed once more against the bed. Draco had just gotten up and was headed for the bathroom. He wondered how long they had slept; it seemed as if it had been a fairly long time. He got up slowly and moved to where he kept his timepiece. They had slept nearly two hours – he was a little surprised, they were going to have to engage in some sort of activity. If they didn't they would likely be sleeping 24 hours a day at the end of the three week period.
Draco came out of the bathroom, 'you're awake.'
'Yeah, we slept two hours'
'I know' Draco said nodding his head.
'We have to do something energetic, some type of exercise.' Harry's voice was pensive.
'Well there are weights in a cabinet in the private room; they will at least allow us to work our muscles a bit.'
'Really?' Harry moved toward the private room and began looking through the cabinets inside. He located the weights and carried a pair of them into the main room. He smiled at Draco, 'grab a pair; this is exactly what we need.'
Draco raised his eyebrows and cocked his head a little at Harry, but he didn't say anything; he went and grabbed a pair and returned. When he reentered the room he froze for a moment looking at Harry. Harry had removed his shirt and was moving onto the floor with the weights.
Draco blackened his thoughts and setting down the weights he had brought in, he pulled his shirt away as well. He sat down on the ground a small distance from Harry and began lifting the weights, trying to keep his eyes off of his roommate.
Harry didn't try to keep his eyes off of Draco. He was frankly amazed at how developed the Slytherin's chest and arm muscles were. He had had some idea, but Draco's clothing had never revealed the fine cuts on his chest and between his arm muscles that were clearly observable when he was shirtless. Harry felt a small wave of jealousy pass over him; his own body had also developed dramatically during the war, but not to the same extent. His arm muscles perhaps rivaled Draco's, but his chest certainly didn't sport a similar six pack.
Harry began lifting the weights with a bit more energy.
Draco felt sweat breaking out on his forehead and knew that it had not resulted purely from his exertion. He couldn't keep his eyes off of Harry's chest – or other parts of his body for that matter. He closed his eyes and tried to blacken his mind, he noted with some dismay that it was becoming more and more difficult to do so.
