Title: Trading Spaces 25
Rating: M Ahoy! Very Mature adult content ahead – you've been warned.
Pairing: H/D, Hr/Sn. (slash, m/m – you've been fairly warned, if you're offended, you wanted to be.)
A/N's: So here it is, folks.(Sniff) The bad news – this is the LAST chapter of Trading Spaces. The story has come to an end. It will be no more. I do have a short epilogue, which involves a certain book we all know and love or hate . . . but that's it!
On the bright side, grin I'm writing a sequel. "Trading Places" (tentatively named) is in progress and should start being posted soon. That is, if any of you care to read it?
Peace, love and a couple of sarcastic snakes! Snippy.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Last One Standing
Draco took a moment to consider the enigma of Harry Potter, the former hope, light and shining beacon of happy, fluffy feelings of the Wizarding World. A man Draco knew better than any other wizard, and yet sometimes felt like he did not know at all. Harry was at all times strong, valiant, brave - a hero, words never used to describe the so-called Prince of Slytherin. And while Harry was also clever, cunning and somewhat ruthless (attributes that Draco felt he had influenced in Harry), Harry still managed to do it all with that heroic light still shining in his eyes, standing up to the tests that came without fear, without doubt, without regret.
And right now, in this moment, Harry was looking out a window at his reward - his heart's desire, granted to him for having the courage and fortitude and whatever else heroes had that they were rewarded for when they un-trembling faced the very hounds of hell. Except, now - now - Harry was shaking.
Harry gripped the window sill in white knuckled desperation, swallowing hard. "I have to get out of here."
Draco stepped behind him, bracing his own hands on either side of Harry, caging him in. "Don't be stupid, Hero. You can't run away now."
"I can't do this."
"Meet your parents? And I thought that was supposed to be hard for me - not you." Draco smirked. He could feel the emotion rolling through Harry - abject terror. It was strange, confusing, something that Draco himself had experienced on more than one occasion, but something he had never felt from his Symmetrius. "They're not Dementors, Harry. They're not illusions, or tricks, or ghosts. They're real, they're here, and they're expecting to see you."
"I killed a child."
"Hello to the non-sequiter!" Snippy slithered up the window curtain to peer out, Snarky moving up the curtain opposite him.
"Woah - hold up! You were supposed to kill Tom!" Snarky explained. "Didn't you follow the directions?"
"He did kill Tom," Draco told them before turning back to Harry. "You killed Tom Riddle."
"As a little kid." Harry's voice sounded hollow.
"A little monster is still a monster, Hero," Draco said softly. "And if you hadn't, you wouldn't have parents to face."
"Ohhh . . . I get it!" Snippy tapped himself on the forehead with his tail.
"He doesn't want to face his parents because he's afraid he's evil now," Snarky whispered loudly.
"C'mon, Harry - are you kidding me? That wasn't a little kid - that was Lord Voldemort. Hell, he should be killed for coming up with that name in the first place." Snippy sighed.
"It's not like you kicked his puppy and made him drop his lollipop," Snarky pointed out. "I mean, really - what, was he playing hopscotch at the time?"
"He was still a child - and all beat up like that . . ."
"Sheesh - you beat him up, too? That's a little mean, considering you were just going to kill him anyway." Snippy frowned. "Couldn't you have just stuck your tongue out at him and said, 'so there' or something?"
"I wasn't the one who beat him up!"
"Then what are you all getting all upset about?" Snippy asked, exasperated.
"I KILLED HIM!" Harry shouted, his frustration reaching its peak.
"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO!" The snakes didn't like being shouted at. They turned their backs on Harry.
"Yeah, but I was supposed to - I mean, after, I wasn't going to . . ."
"Harry." Draco stared at him. Harry swallowed. He had never heard Draco say his real name like that. "You weren't trying to get me to kill you, were you? Were you?" Draco shook him. "Look at me! Outside, with the sword, were you you trying to get me to kill you?"
Harry tensed up. "I . . . don't know. It doesn't feel right . . . me being just fine after . . . after all of that."
"Well, you are still alive." Draco pushed away from him, his expression cold. Harry turned his back to the window, looking at Draco warily. "You have two choices Hero - live with the world as what you made it, or go back and kill your parents to save Voldemort."
"That was really honest," Snippy said. At Harry's sharp look he quickly added, "I mean, harsh. And rude. And . . ." Harry was still glaring. "Inappropriate . . . and supposed to be a secret, I'm guessing. Snarky - c'mon here, help a brother out, he won't stop staring at me!"
"Just slowly back away . . . don't break eye contact," Snarky whispered, as he too started in backward motion. "That's it . . . good Harry . . . no sudden movements, Snip."
Shaking his head, Harry set his jaw.
Draco raised an eyebrows. "What now, Potter? Want to have another sword fight? Or are we just going to trade insults for awhile?"
"You're right."
"Excuse me?" Draco shook his head as if he could not have heard right.
"There's no excuse for you, Malfoy." Harry sighed.
"I thought being a Malfoy was an excuse?" Snippy looked perplexed.
"His father thought so, but I don't think it actually counts." Snarky pondered the question. "Unless you are a Malfoy. Or a Slytherin. Or easily swayed by large amounts of money. Or gratuitous immoral sex."
"Did you just say I was right? Because I might have to alert the Daily Prophet." Draco smirked.
"Even a blind gnome finds a turnip every now and then." Harry sighed deeply. "You're right, I know you're right. I just feel so . . . so . . ."
"Dirty?" Draco's eyes flashed. "I can fix that."
"Nothing I've ever seen or heard about you doing has ever made anyone anywhere feel less dirty." Harry crossed his arms over his chest.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Potter." Draco gestured to a door in the back of his room. "I was going to suggest you shower before dinner."
Draco moved to check his closets for something suitable for Harry to meet his parents in. He found what appeared to be a set of Harry's clothing on one side, and a shelf stacked with extra towels just above it. Apparently, Harry stayed with Draco a lot in this time line. They headed for the showers.
"Well, looks like the thought of showering with the Slytherin sex god cheered him up." Snippy shrugged.
"Seems to have that effect on a lot of people." Snarky nodded. "Of course, that's usually cheering up after failing an exam -"
"Or smelling Snape's breath!"
"Who knew it was effective for a guilty conscience?"
"Uh - no one," Snippy pointed out. "Not a lot of that in Slytherin House."
"Guilt?" Snarky asked incredulously.
"Conscience."
"Oh, right." They exchanged a look before breaking into snakey laughter. "Thee, thee, thee . . . ."
Lucius handed a freshly poured brandy to James Potter, a charming, if slightly insincere smile on his face. While his son's . . . unique circumstances had necessitated this unlikely alliance, it never failed to unnerve him a little.
"James." Lucius held up his own brandy, taking a solid swallow to brace himself for the evening ahead. "Lily - can I get you something?"
"No thank you, Lucius." She gave him a tight smile. These little gatherings were always a little tense. She knew James hated coming over here, but Harry's relationship with Draco was important to their son, so they worked through it, however confusing it was.
Tonight was especially tense. An incident at Hogwarts had thrown new suspicions on to their sons' relationship. Well, the suspicions weren't new, but they had certainly become more complex, and now seemed to be becoming more evident. Which wouldn't be such a huge problem, if a more physical relationship wasn't likely to send their Symmetrius powers into full force, the consequences of which were hard to imagine.
"So, if that's enough with the pleasantries, please tell us what happened," James send tensely. "What did they do?"
"Well, it's more about what Draco did." Lucius studiously ignored the extremely 'not surprised' look on the Potters' faces. "But I'm afraid it may point to a 'closer' connection than we had thought was in place."
"So, you think they've . . . you know?" Lily cursed her inarticulateness. She felt like she was back in school, blushing her way through her first real conversation about sex. She was a parent for crying out loud! She had to be able to talk about these things. "You think they are intimate?"
"I know they're intimate," Narcissa said softly, with a chuckle in her voice. "He's a Malfoy." She cast a look at her husband. "It's just a matter of to what degree - which is something we need to take immediate action to ascertain, while there's still a chance we can do something."
"Do something?" James raised an eyebrow. "And do you have a plan to 'ascertain' these facts or perhaps an intervention planned?"
"James!" Lily scolded.
"Well, really! What are we going to do? We all know what happens when we try to separate them." James folded his arms over his chest stubbornly, as the rest of the room grimaced at the memory of the summer they had tried to keep the two of them apart. "So what? We sleep in their rooms with them? Find a chastity spell? Rush in if we hear strange noises and bust it up?"
Lucius' mouth twitched. "I'm not sure we could 'bust' in to their rooms if they didn't want us to."
"Is all of this necessary?" Lily frowned. "Lucius, please just tell us what you observed."
"I can't believe this happened in the middle of the Great Hall and didn't end up in the Daily Prophet," James grumbled.
"I'm not." Narcissa's tone was a little too innocent to be believable.
"As you wish," Lucius conceded, pausing briefly to refill his drink. "It all started with Seamus Finnegan."
Flashback-No-Tom-Riddle-Timeline
Harry and Draco walked together towards the doors of the Great Hall, having just finished their lunch at the Slytherin Table. Dressed impeccably and expensively, easily the hottest boys at Hogwarts, they were bound to draw a lot of attention. Add into that the way they moved in perfect coordination, shoulders nearly brushing, in graceful deliberate movements, Draco's marked by a touch of arrogant swagger, and Harry's by a sense of solid purpose, and even the professors found themselves staring from time to time. Eyes seemed to follow them wherever they went in the castle, whispered words creating a solid murmur. The word Symmetrius was held back by the lips of all of the professors. Not even the students dared to say the words directly. However, the exact connection between the two young wizards was perfectly open to debate - and everybody seemed to have their own opinion on their relationship.
Suddenly there was a flash of light from the direction of the Gryffindor Table. Draco pushed Harry to the ground just in time to let the spell fly over their heads.
"What the hell?" Harry hit the floor, Draco following him down and softening his fall by pulling Harry close to his chest and allowing his own arms to hit the floor first. Their gazes locked and fury was flashing in Draco's slate grey eyes.
Draco was on his feet in the next second, wand drawn, glaring back at the Gryffindor Table. His white blond hair falling into his eyes, his lips parted in a sneer worthy of Lucius at his most deadly. Seamus Finnegan stood there, the smirk on his face displaying his guilt better than a confession.
"You got a problem, Finnegan?" Draco snarled. He reached down, and Harry grasped his arm at the wrist, allowing the Slytherin to pull him to his feet, barely noting the way Draco positioned Harry protectively just behing his broad shoulder. They moved forward, meeting Seamus in the middle of the aisle.
"What's the matter, Potter?" Seamus ignored Draco. When Harry had chosen to be friends with Draco, it had healed a lot of the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. A lot of it - but not all of it. "Can't defend yourself? Need a Slytherin bodyguard?"
Harry started to move forward, but Draco stopped him with an elegant wave of his hand. Draco smiled. "No need to get your hands dirty, Potter."
"The next time you come too close to Harry, I'll put you on the floor." Draco's voice was the epitome of serious.
Seamus took a deep breath, but refused to back down, his eyes spitting fire at Draco and Harry. Harry pushed forward, his jaw muscles clenched. "You got something to say, Finnegan?"
"Not to a house traitor like you," Seamus gritted out. "Besides, I wouldn't want to upset your boyfriend."
"I'm sorry, Finnegan. I told you, you're just not my type." Harry sneered.
Seamus took a swing at Harry. Draco moved lightning fast, grasping Seamus's fist in his hand. With a vicous twist, as promised Draco put him on the floor. When Seamus tried to stand, Draco set his expensive boot lightly on his chest, casting his eyes fiercely at the entire room. "Nobody touches my Harry." He made a sound dangerously close to a snarl. "Nobody, understand?"
Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder, he turned and their gazes locked again. For a moment, it was like everyone else disappeared. They seemed to come to some kind of mental consensus to leave, which was avidly noted by those who contended they were telepathic. Seamus tried to stand as they turned to go, but with a casual wave of Harry's hand, he found himself back on the floor as if gravity itself had tripled its force on him.
Together, Harry and Draco exited the Great Hall, their shoulders brushing, power crackling between them, the rest of the student body watching avidly, a hushed murmur ringing behind them, Did he say my Harry?
END OF FLASHBACK
Harry barely noted the impressive black marble fixtures and rich opulence of the bathroom he had entered. Accustomed to showering before the boys in the Gryffindor dorms and way beyond thoughts of modesty, he began stripping off his clothes, intent on the concept of the healing power held by a hot shower, or at least the concept of a twenty minute distraction. He heard the shower turn on behind him with a start, reminding him rather abruptly that Draco was there.
Draco's shirt was open, his leather pants undone, his feet bare. He looked up at Harry through a fringe of pale blond hair, holding his gaze as he turned the heat all the way up. Harry started to tremble, as his hands fell away from his pants. Draco walked slowly over to Harry, setting his hands on the waistband of Harry's pants. The blond leaned in close, their faces a breath apart. Deliberately, Draco pushed the pants down off Harry's hips, letting them pool on the floor.
Draco turned and walked into the shower, spreading his arms so the spray shot across his shoulders, tilting his head back to let it wet his hair, then again met Harry's eyes. "Coming, Hero?"
"I'm barely breathing hard." Harry stepped into the shower.
Draco grabbed Harry by the throat and firmly pushed him against the shower wall. Harry felt Draco's body settle against his own and a low groan came unbidden from his throat as he came into contact with all of that gloriously naked flesh. Draco whispered, "I can change that."
"You think so?" Harry took Draco's mouth in a fierce kiss, one hand fisting in the blond hair, the other pressed against the shower wall for support. "Are you really that good?"
"Oh, Hero, I'm more than that good." Draco's hands slid over Harry's wet skin as he returned the kiss with full fury, losing himself in Harry's passion. Draco finally broke the kiss, a wicked look in his eyes as he got down on his knees. "Don't you remember? I'm good enough to make you scream."
"Oh - fuck me!" Harry exclaimed as he felt Draco's mouth close over him.
"That was the intention," Draco murmured. Harry closed his eyes, knotting his hands in Draco's hair. He let his head fall back against the shower, trying desperately to breath between the water rushing over him and Draco's tongue doing . . . whatever delicious things Draco's tongue was doing. Moments later, Harry could hear himself gasping as his senses were overwhelmed. And just as Draco promised he would, as he came, he screamed Draco's name.
Draco smiled up at him wickedly through a fringe of white blond hair. Harry could almost hear Draco's voice through the haze of pleasure, Love you, Hero, but Harry wasn't sure if it was really Draco or if he was just imagining Draco's voice. Draco's strong hands held Harry up against the wall while he recovered, then pushed him to his knees.
Harry never hesitated. He felt dirty, and was glorifying in it, like it was a punishment well deserved. He let the heat they generated between them be the cleansing blaze that swept through his bruised soul. He looked up, Draco's eyes were fixed on Harry, though they were narrowed to desire hooded slits. Draco almost seemed to be in pain.
Harry's heart pounded as he fought the urge to think about what Draco was beginning to mean to him, how much Harry needed Draco in his life right now, to walk through this crazy world they had created by his side. Harry focused back on physically pleasuring Draco, reveling in the husky moans escaping the Slytherin's beautiful mouth. Reveling in the power of taking over Draco's control.
When Harry was finished, Draco was trembling, pressing his forehead against the wall while he caught his breath, and smirking smugly. Harry didn't want to acknowledge it, but he felt good inside and out - all over.
"Well, well. Seems like a shower did the trick." Harry rolled his shoulders as he climbed out of the shower. Draco smirked as if to say, 'Sure, it was the shower.'
"What do you say, Hero? Ready to face the lions?" Draco rather resembled the king of the jungle himself as he stepped from the shower, wet blond hair in dripping spikes before his turbulent grey eyes.
Harry nodded. He felt strength emanating from his body, as if he had suddenly recharged an inner battery. He was ready. "I just wish there was some way we could be better prepared for whatever we're walking in to."
"Well, we can't walk anywhere like this." Draco looked down pointedly.
"Oh. Right." Harry found himself fighting a blush. "Clothes would be good."
Hermione lay next to Severus, the sheet draped over her bare body. "So you really think they're ok? And what happened to their other selves? Did they just vanish?"
"There really is no way to stop you from using that enormous cerebellum of yours is there?" Severus sighed. "The last I saw the pair from our time line, they were marching out of the Great Hall . . ."
"Harry said that he was planning on going to the Malfoy's for dinner tonight." Hermione sighed. "So, I suppose either way, that's where they are."
"With Lucius." Snape felt the strange complexity in its fullness as equal parts of him felt concern for the Headmaster, and hate for his old enemy, who were the same person in different circumstances.
Hermione shuddered. "I'm never going to be able to look him in the eye again. And hey - why didn't Headmaster Malfoy make me Prefect?"
Snape gave her a look. "He might not be a Death Eater anymore, but that doesn't mean he's not Lucius Malfoy."
"Point taken," she conceded. Hermione drew her knees up to her chest. "I just wish we knew what was going on."
"Draco's a clever boy, he'll lead the bull headed Mr. Potter through it." Snape pulled her close to him. "All we can do now is kill time until they get back."
"Hmmm . . . what shall we do while we wait?" Hermione smiled seductively.
"I have a list." Snape leaned down, brushing his lips over hers.
"At least it's not a chart." Hermione barely got a word out as a sudden wave of nausea overcame her. She leapt up from the bed and ran straight into the bathroom where she very promptly vomited. By the time she had finished and washed out her mouth, Severus was standing outside of the door with a bottle of anti-nausea potion.
"That was unexpected and strange," Hermione said weakly.
Severus' eyes narrowed calculatingly. "Have you been feeling sick, lately?"
"No, not really. Hungry and tired mostly." Hermione yawned and slowly walked back to the bed. "Maybe I'm coming down with something?"
"Yes, maybe."
"What? You look overly concerned." Hermione gazed up at him.
"There is a reason why we don't time travel often or for less than vital purposes, Hermione." Snape sat down next to her, smoothing her hair from her damp cheek. "It's unpredictable what effect certain things will have. For instance, just because you were time traveling during your third year, doesn't mean you weren't aging all of that time."
"Okay . . . nope - I don't get it. So maybe I'm a year older than I think I am, so what? That gives me the flu?" Hermione stared at him confused.
"No, just because certain physical things may be excluded from certain timelines, doesn't mean that they didn't still happen to your physical body." He was staring deeply into her eyes as if willing her to figure out what he was trying to say.
"Uh-huh . . . I knew that." What was wrong with him?
"So, for instance, if you were a virgin in this time line, that doesn't mean that you're a virgin now." Snape tried to be a little more direct.
"I'm not really worried about the state of my virginity right now, Severus." Hermione blew out an irritated sigh. "I'm fine with not being a virgin. I'm eighteen - or maybe nineteen with the time change and that's perfectly respectable. I mean it's not like I'm a slut or something . . . and I really don't see what not being a virgin has to do with me throwing up . . . HOLY CRICKET!!"
"Precisely." Snape nodded in satisfaction as she finally got it. Then he promptly started cursing.
"I've never heard you use so many short syllable words," Hermione commented, her head spinning. How could this be? Well, she knew exactly how this could be, but . . . still . . .
"I am the greatest idiot that ever lived. Why didn't I think . . . ?" Severus started cursing again. "Why wasn't I more careful?"
Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, so much for keeping us a secret. I guess everyone will have to know now, huh?"
"Unless you turn invisible for the next nine months, yes, I would think so. Still, we don't know for sure yet. There's a potion I can use to tell for sure. I'll make it tomorrow." Hermione swallowed loudly. He smiled warmly at her. "And if you really are," Severus continued, tenderly cupping her face, a possessive grin on his face. "I can't say I'm sorry."
Hermione's face split into a beautiful smile as she reached up to hold him close, whispering fiercely, "Me either."
Harry and Draco walked into the bedroom. Snippy and Snarky looked up from their snooping as they heard the door open.
"Oh, crap, they're already done!" Snippy said. "For a sex god, you're lacking some stamina there Malfoy - maybe you should try again."
Snarky turned to glare at them, then quickly turned back around. "Bless my shiny scales! They're naked!"
"I meant try again in the shower, for hissing out loud!" The snakes kept their backs to them. "Put some clothes on!"
The Symmetrius pair walked back over to the closet, ignoring the snakes as they usually did. Draco imperiously began flipping through Harry's clothes. Harry was amazed at how unfazed Draco was by his own nakedness. "Well, Hero, looks like this version of you must have some taste." Draco smirked. "Oh, who am I kidding? I must have picked these out for you."
"That would explain the serious lack of red and gold and over abundance of green and silver." Harry sighed.
Draco slanted a look at him as he pulled out a pair of black jeans, a white tee shirt and a button down shirt just a shade darker than Harry's eyes. For himself, he chose black jeans, a white tee shirt and a slate grey button down shirt. "Does it occur to you that you might not be a Gryffindor anymore, Hero?"
"What are you talking about?" Harry frowned.
"You told me that you told the Sorting Hat to not put you in Slytherin. Maybe you didn't do that this time around." Draco stared at Harry.
Harry's frown deepened and he pushed an impatient hand through his hair. "But there was no Voldemort anymore - I wouldn't have any of his qualities . . ."
"Well, you still speak parseltongue." Draco's eyes lit on Harry's exposed forehead, and he reaches out tracing it lightly. "And you still have your scar. Hey, I'm just throwing the possibility out there."
Harry frowned. "I still don't see myself being put in Slytherin after Ron . . ."
Draco smirked. "Oh? What's this then?"
Harry mulishly kept his mouth shut.
"Perhaps considering that you might have met me first? Since your parents dropped you off properly at the station?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps if you hadn't met the Wealey's first, you might have given me a fair shake? And since I was sorted before you, perhaps you wanted to be in the same house as I?"
Harry swallowed hard. If Draco hadn't made fun of the first friend that Harry had made - if they had just met on the train or on the platform - might they not have been friends? Harry had wanted friends more than air back then. And had they been friends, Ron wouldn't have told him about the evils of Slytherin - he wouldn't have known to avoid the house, and if his only friend was in it . . . Harry shook himself. He'd figure out how to cross that bridge when he came to it.
"Oh, relax, Hero." Draco looked him over. "Perhaps I just like seeing you in my colors."
Harry's eyes heated. "Or perhaps I know you like seeing me in those colors."
Draco was now rummaging through a drawer labeled "Harry's." He pulled out a very masculine black leather bracelet, with a silver I.D. tag on it that was engraved "Draco's".
"What's that?" Harry peered over his shoulder. "What, was I pinching your jewelry?"
"I don't think this is mine."
"Um, it says 'Draco's,'" Harry pointed out.
"Yes, but if it were mine it would probably just say 'Draco', and it was in your drawer." Draco argued. He reached out and grabbed Harry's arm. "Wear it."
"What? Why?" Harry asked even though Draco had already fastened the leather around Harry's wrist.
Draco's eyes locked on his, the heat in the grey orbs stealing Harry's breath. "Because I want you to."
Harry swallowed hard and nodded, his mouth too dry to attempt to speak. Sweet Merlin, what was happening to them? A thought occurred to him and he dug into the unlabeled drawer right next to his. His eyes flashed as he found the matching black leather band that said "Harry's" in what must be Draco's drawer.
Draco extended his arm, pulling his sleeve up. Harry traced the smooth skin there, an echo of his first touch, assuring himself that there was no Dark Mark. Staring into Draco's eyes, Harry fastened the bracelet on the blond.
"It's awfully quiet. Are they still naked?" Snippy whispered to his compatriot.
"How should I know, I'm not looking."
"Still naked!" Draco volunteered quickly, grateful that the snakes broke the moment as he fought the emotion welling up in his chest. He decided to avoid Harry's eyes by getting dressed, choosing nearly the same outfit as he had for Harry, except his shirt was charcoal grey instead of green. Harry dressed as well, tucking his bracelet under the cuff of his shirt. Draco grapsed his hands and moved them aside, as he rebuttoned Harry's shirt that had been done up incorrectly.
"Hey, Potter, did you ever keep a journal?" Draco suddenly asked. He flushed a little as his hands fell away from Harry's button, belatedly recognizing the gesture as incredibly intimate, and wholly natural.
"Yeah, why do you ask . . . oh, that's brilliant." Harry's eyes widened. "But would I keep it here?"
"I bet you two pounds of chocolate frogs the answer's yes!" Snippy called.
"Two pounds?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "You wouldn't happen to, I don't know - have them in your slimly little scales, do you?"
"I resent that Harry. We are not slimy," Snippy huffed.
"Hand them over," Draco demanded. The snakes reluctantly moved off of the books they had been seated on. He handed Harry's journal to him, but he gave it back with a shake of his head.
"I say we read them side by side," Harry suggested. "Do you think we have time now?"
Draco shrugged. "They'll send for us when dinner's served. Let's do a little research before we go down."
"Dirty!" Snippy snickered. The boys ingored the snake.
They stretched themselves across Draco's bed, the diaries opened side by side. Harry flipped through a few of the pages. "Look, they're enchanted. We write back and forth to each other every now and then."
"Never thought I'd end up reading in bed with you, Hero." Draco smirked.
"Never thought I'd end up in bed with you," Harry shot back.
"Sex god strikessss again!" Snarky called.
"That's it." Draco grabbed Harry's hand and pointed at the snakes. There was a loud pop and then they disappeared.
"Where'd you send them?" Harry wet his lips, the feel of Draco's magic whispering over nerve endings already over-stimulated from their shower activities.
"Back to Slytherin," Draco said dismissively. He gestured at the diaries. "Shall we?"
Flashback-No Tom Riddle Timeline
Draco watched Oliver walk out of the bedroom door with hooded eyes. He could feel Harry's eyes on him from the next bed over, but waited until his late night visitor had exited to address him. "What is it, pet?"
Harry shivered a little. While it was mocking, and likely meant to be half insulting, Harry was fond of Draco calling him 'pet'. Draco had started calling Harry 'pet' during their second year, when they were on opposing Quidditch teams. They had made a friendly wager on the first game, since they were both seekers. Whoever didn't catch the Snitch had to attend the opposing house's celebration, and sit at the winner's feet the whole night.
The first time Harry had lost, Draco had started calling him 'pet', and occasionally stroking his hair as Harry sat at his feet. He had referred to him as such ever since. While Draco was prone to calling people by casual endearments, he only called Harry 'pet', and for some reason it had grown on him.
"Oliver Wood?" Harry schooled his features in an expression remarkably like Draco's unimpressed smirk. He had been listening for Oliver to get up and leave, as Draco's conquests always did.
"You have a problem, Harry?" Draco reflected the same expression back.
"Just didn't know you rode that side of the broomstick, so to speak, Dray." Harry lay back on his pillows.
Oliver had come to see Harry and ended up spending the night with his blond roommate. Harry was well aware of Draco's sexual activities, and ever since . . . special circumstances had cast them out of their respective House dormitories and made them roommates, they had worked out a series of arrangements to accommodate their respective amorous needs.
For instance, Harry had slept in the same room last night, but both he and Draco had cast silencing and locking charms on their heavy bed curtains. However, inevitably, the morning after such events there was an unnamed tension in the air. This was hardly the first time the subject had caused tension. Neither boy ever breathed the word 'jealousy', or lent voice to their particular speculations on the nature of the tension. It had never broken into a full fledged argument, but there it was, nevertheless - tension.
"Boys, girls - it's all the same," Draco remarked dismissively. "Like you've never considered it."
"I haven't actually," Harry protested, feeling his words were a lie even as he spoke them. But they didn't talk about that.
"No?" Draco cast a glance at him under his lashes. "My mistake."
"What are you trying to say?" Harry jumped up and walked across the room, crossing his arms over his bare chest. He stood in front of the window, looking out onto the grounds. The light silhouetted his lean frame in his low-slung pajama bottoms.
"I just find it hard to believe that you've never considered the possibility. I mean, I have seen you look . . ." Draco trailed off, realizing what he was about to say. He continued on with just a momentary pause, not the kind to lose his composure. "I just thought it would have crossed your mind by now."
"Look at who?" Harry asked softly.
Draco climbed from his bed as well. "Hey, if you don't want to talk about it -"
"What? If I don't want to talk about it then for once in your life, you'd actually let something go?" Harry scoffed, though his voice held a fond tone.
"Well, you're a little touchy when it come to my . . . well, when it comes to matters of the heart, so to speak." Draco looked down. Harry was always cranky after one of Draco's less than moral liaisons left in the morning.
"Matters of the heart? What does that mean?"
"You know, when it comes to fu -"
"I understand the reference. I meant," Harry kept his back to Draco. "When you say, 'matters of the heart', are you . . . in love with Oliver?"
"Hardly." Draco fixed his eyes on Harry's back, his heart beginning to pound, though he couldn't quite explain why. "Have I been in love with any of the others?" The callous nature of the question seemed to strike them both. Draco took a moment to consider his own question. "Momentary infatuation, physical attraction . . . friendship, but I don't think I've ever been in love."
"You're only sixteen," Harry pointed out.
"You ever been in love, pet?" Draco studied his nails.
Harry turned, his eyes locking intensely with Draco's, despite the blond's attempts to avoid his gaze. "Maybe . . ."
Draco's breath caught in his throat. "So, since I've been so honest with you, why don't you answer my question?"
"What question?" Harry's voice seemed to have dropped an octave and it sent chills through Draco.
Draco took a deep breath, and felt an instinctive tug low in his belly. He felt his muscles tense, a shift that made his gaze predatory, his movements stalking. He walked across the room. "You know what question, pet." His voice was challenging and soft. He stopped a little too close to Harry. "You ever thought about what it would be like?"
"With another guy? Or . . ." Harry's mouth felt dry and he licked his lips nervously. Draco's gaze fixed on the movement.
"Or?" Draco smirked.
"Dray, what . . ." Harry moved closer. His heart was pounding heavily in his chest, and he was starting to shake. Draco captured Harry's chin in his hand.
"Have. You. Ever. Thought. About. It." The words were distinct, Draco's gaze direct, demanding an answer to the question that Harry knew was being asked. But was he ready to answer it? The moment stretched between them. It felt inevitable.
"Yes." The word slipped helplessly from Harry's lips.
Draco smiled seductively, his voice sounding in Harry's head, "I thought so . . ."
Harry gasped. They had found they could communicate telepathically accidentally last summer, when their parents had tried to make them spend the whole summer apart. Harry and Draco had since then found the connection a little too intimate when they were in close physical proximity. Not sure they wanted to explore the feelings the contact evoked, they had a kind of an unspoken agreement not to do it. Harry took an involuntary step back, running into the windowsill.
Draco stepped forward instinctively. He whispered, "Your heart's beating so fast."
"Is it?" Harry asked.
"You have thought about me." Draco's voice in Harry's mind was making Harry a little dizzy. Draco cupped Harry's face in one hand, gently stroking Harry's skin with his thumb.
"What are you doing, Dray?" Harry felt frozen in place. He couldn't move if he wanted to, which was okay. There was nothing more important to him on the earth right now then finding out what was going to happen next.
"What am I doing? Satisfying the curiosity that's been building for both of us all year. Giving name to this tension between us. Admitting what we've both known for too long."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He did, of course he did, but they were NOT supposed to talk about it. It seemed wrong, like someone had told him it was wrong long ago, but Harry couldn't quite remember why it was so important.
"I feel it, pet." Draco pressed in closer to Harry's body. "You know you feel it, too."
"I . . ." Harry shook his head.
"Tell me." Draco's voice was dangerously low, and he slid his hand back to tangle fiercely in Harry's dark locks, holding his head in place and forcing Harry to look at him. "Look me in the eye and deny it."
The truth was in Harry's smokey green eyes. "I can't."
Draco leaned down, his lips taking Harry's in a searing kiss full of hunger and longing. Harry met the kiss with equal passion, the whole moment feeling desperately important. He felt Draco's warm lips move across his and welcomed the sensual invasion as he opened his mouth. Like one of their fencing duels, the kiss moved with a steady rhythm, a dance that reflected the mounting tension that had grown between them, punctuated with rising passion and countless lost moments of almost.
Draco could feel his magic rising through his body, surging towards Harry, pulling Harry's magic towards itself and exploding out of them. A shockwave seemed to pass through his chest, through Harry and explode outward, rocking the castle with a resounding boom. They pulled apart, panting, their foreheads resting against eachother.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Harry fought to drag air back into his lungs, barely noticing that his hands still gripped Draco's shoulders.
"I think that was us." Draco opened his eyes, looking at Harry. This was the other half of what was between them that they did not discuss. The growing realization that there was something different about how they did magic, and especially about how they did magic together.
Harry nodded, trying to fight back the panic that was struggling to surface. He had just kissed Draco Malfoy, and it was the most terrifying, powerful experience of his young life. What did that mean? "We have to figure out what's going on."
"We will." Draco smiled. "Later." He pulled Harry into another kiss. Harry let go of the troubling thoughts in his head and fully surrendered to whatever was to come.
Harry wound his arms around Draco's waist, returning his kiss with full passion. He explored Draco's mouth slowly and thoroughly, feeling the other boy in his head, sensing his emotions and physical reactions as if they were his own. It was the most incredible thing he had ever felt. Emotion and pleasure rippled through his body, building tighter and expanding at the same time. It transformed Harry, transformed both of them, woke some kind of sleeping beast deep within.
"Dray," Harry gasped against Draco's neck.
Draco's lips left a hot, wet path behind Harry's ear, biting teasingly into the tense muscles in Harry's neck. "Yes, pet?"
"Ohh . . . mmm. . ." Harry couldn't stop touching Draco, couldn't get him close enough, couldn't feel enough.
Draco's body felt like it was on fire, every inch of him tingling like his blood was bubbling in his veins. Harry's mouth on his skin was scorching him. Harry hands tightened on Draco's waist as he moved his hips sinuously against Draco's. "My God, Harry . . ." Draco fought for his breath.
"We should . . . stop . . ." Harry struggled for control of his own body, his hands, his lips - hell, his whole body seemed to be moving of its own volition.
"Should we?" Draco pulled back and looked into Harry's eyes. Another wave of sensation swept through his abdomen, and he growled lowly in the back of his throat, pulling Harry's mouth back to his again. Fighting the urge was like trying to fight the gravitational pull of the earth. "I don't think I can . . ."
Harry returned the kiss before he could stop himself, but managed to pull back again after a moment. Harry felt like he was going to explode, anymore of this and he was going to lose all control. Draco took a few dizzy steps back, and they stood, staring at each other, each trying to catch their breath.
A sharp knock sounded at the door. "Hey, can I come in?"
Hermione. Harry remembered that she had agreed to come to dinner. While Ron was still distrustful of Harry's friendship with Draco Malfoy, Hermone had accepted it, especially since Harry had given Draco a black eye for calling her a mudblood last year and told him to "Stop acting like a prat, Dray."
"Yeah, c'mon!" Harry called, his eyes still locked on Draco's.
"Hey, what's going on, did you guys here that big boom a moment ago . . ." Hermione's cheery voice died out as she took in the tension in the air. She asked delicately, "I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?"
"No," Harry said at the exact moment Draco said, "Yes."
"I see." Hermione glanced quickly between the two of them, taking in the breathiness of their voices and the high splotches of color on each boy's cheekbones. "Are you sure?"
"Let's go to breakfast. I'll get dressed." Harry quickly walked into their private bathroom. He shot a nervous look at Draco. "I'm freezing."
"Fuck," Draco said succinctly. He sat down heavily on his bed.
"What the hell is going on?" Hermione asked quietly, as she sat next to him. Draco leaned forward, putting his head in his hands and resting them on his knees.
"I think I just screwed up." Draco tried to pull himself together. He was still shaking. "Is it warm in here?"
"Very," Hermione commented shrewdly. "What happened?"
"He . . . I . . . I'm not sure." Draco walked over to his trunk and started pulling out his school uniform and robes. Hermione turned her back to give him some privacy. It was a little awkward, but she had gotten somewhat used to it, after she had agreed to spend last summer with the boys, at both of their parent's secret request. Apparently they had attempted to separate the two boys for the duration of the summer break, and that had lasted about three days, before they found a way around it.
Since neither set of parents seemed to be able to keep track of Harry or Draco, or prevent them from suddenly appearing at the other's side, they had enlisted Hermione's assistance in watching them, much to the Malfoy's chagrin. But once Hermione started observing the two in close and constant quarters, she understood why the Malfoys had agreed to let a Muggleborn into their home. This was much bigger than blood rivalries. Hermione never relayed her suspicions to the adults, but it was understood between them that she knew what was going on.
"Draco, did . . . did you have a fight?" Hermione asked, a feeling of dread welling up in her chest. Please, let it just be a fight.
"Not exactly." Draco pulled his sweater over his head, tucking the bracelet Harry had given him carefully inside the sleeve, hidden from public view. If it had just been a fight, he would have been able to talk to Hermione about it. She was always able to fix his and Harry's fights. "You can look now." With a wolfish grin, he couldn't resist adding, "You know you want to."
"Your charms are lost on me," she responded tartly as she turned back around. "So what is 'not exactly' a fight?"
"Something else." Harry stepped out of the bathroom, dressed and seemingly composed once more. "Shall we?"
Draco loosely adjusted his tie, then met Harry's gaze. He took a calming breath. "Yeah, let's go."
"But -" Hermione protested.
"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Harry said gently, though he was still looking at Draco. "It's fine. We're fine."
Draco nodded almost imperceptibly, a hungry gleam in the back of his eyes. He pulled on his robes, leaving them unfastened and walked to the door, opening it with a flourish. Hermione grabbed her bag, and headed out the door, the wrinkle in between her eyes indicating she was analyzing the whole exchange.
"Thanks, Dray," Harry whispered as he stepped through the door, with a meaningful glance at Draco's face.
"Anytime, pet," Draco said softly.
End Of Flashback
"Nobody touches my Harry?" James repeated, as Lucius finished repeating the story of the 'incident in the Great Hall', as they all seemed to be referring to it now.
"But that doesn't mean anything . . ." Lily protested. "I mean, they probably haven't . . . consummated anything, right?"
"Maybe not." Lucius conceded.
"But if I know our son . . . honestly, if I know your son, Lily, I think that's a little optimistic." Narcissa sat forward, speaking up for the first time.
"We'll wait until after dinner," Lucius interjected. "Let's see what happens tonight, and if we sense anything has changed, we can bring it up then."
"I think we should just ask them as soon as they get down here." James crossed his arms over his chest. "Harry will be honest with us."
"We don't know that, James," Lily said softly. Tears gathered in her eyes.
"Lily, don't . . . not here, sweetie," James put a comforting arm around her shoulder, nodding his head towards Narcissa and Lucius. "Harry's a good boy, he'll come through this."
"I know. I know they can defeat . . . them." She whispered the word 'them' as if they might be listening. "It's not the fight I'm afraid of as much as . . . the prophecy." Lily took a deep breath, bracing herself with her husband's touch. "It's just so hard for me to think . . . to believe that . . . Harry, our Harry . . . and Draco could be . . . ."
"Could be the most evil wizard pair since Grindewald and Dumbledore?" James shuddered. "I know."
Harry paused on the stairs, listening to his parent's hushed conversation. "Worse than Dumbledore and Grindelwald? What does that mean? What are they talking about?"
"Seems pretty clear to me." Draco pressed his lips together. "Does every prophecy have to be about you, Hero?"
"Apparently." Harry leaned against the wall, feeling slightly nauseous. "So what, I got rid of Voldemort, and now I have to be him?"
Draco reached out, taking Harry's hands in his. "You don't have to do anything, anymore, Hero."
"Oh?" Harry realized that he still felt oddly calm, the words that would have thrown him into a sick panic just days ago, didn't seem to concern him now. Vaguely, he wondered if they should, if not feeling panicked lent credence to their worries. "Then why are they so worried about us coming into our full power?"
"We are fully expressed Symmetrius," Draco pointed out intensely. "What's done is done. We can't take it back. And I know that you're not going to be a dark wizard."
"That's not what you used to think." Harry sighed heavily."What if all that darkness is still in me? Did we forget what I was doing this morning?"
"I said you were going to be powerful and great, and you are. I can deal with your darkness. I'm not afraid." Draco willed Harry to listen to him. "We are what we are, we are what they were afraid we would be. What we do with that power is up to us now. We're free." Draco's voice was filled with a kind of wonder that Harry found touching and comforting. "It's just you and me, now, Hero. Nothing can touch us now."
"Well, if heros really are the last ones standing," Harry conceded. He pulled Draco into a long, hungry kiss. When he pulled back, Draco took a moment to look him over. He held himself with confidence now. Gone was the boy who was everyone's pawn, with no control over his destiny. Power rippled from deep inside him. Power that Draco could also feel emanating from his own body, flowing between them, feeding off of Harry's power.
Harry looked into Draco's eyes, promising fiercly, "I don't care who's standing in my way, Dumbledore, Grindewald, ten Voldemorts - no one's going to touch you now."
"Same back at you, Hero," Draco replied softly.
Together, they walked down the stairs, shoulders brushing. The easy cadence of their movements was strong, graceful, predatory, and commanding. They paused outside the doors of the drawing rooms. They exchanged smirks, drenched in their strong connection.
"And if the prophecies are true?" Harry asked, though his fear had been overwhelmed by the incredible sense of power that was flooding him.
"Then you'll still be the last one standing, Hero." Draco reached for the door. "And I'll be the one standing beside you."
The End?