A/N: Well, I'm back. I'm sure everyone has forgotten about me, and about my little story. Not updating for years will do that, I've heard. But I'd love to hear from some of my old reviewers, and gain some new ones. I've missed you guys, even if you forgot about me. I have the story completed, now. I'll be trying to smooth out some wrinkles in it over the next week, and I'll try to publish it as fast as I can. Even if my old readers have abandoned me, I still hated having it incomplete. I'd be honored if some of you guys would come along with me for the rest of the ride. I have about 80 more pages after this chapter, I'm not sure how many chapters that would break into, but out of consideration for you guys who might not have time to complete that much in one sitting, I'll post it in chunks.
Warning: I'd started to do some minor scene shifting before my little accidental hiatus, and as such some things might be a little awkward sounding at times. If I have them repeat a conversation on accident, please let me know. I tried to eliminate that little eventuality as much as possible, but obviously I'm far from perfect.
Another warning: Yeah... This is going to get pretty emotional at times for the boys. If you were hesitant about Harry being dependent, you might want to not bother getting back into the story.
And now, without further ado, I present to you the beginning of the end. I thought I'd start off with a little bit of a treat for my slashy folks. ;)
Draco let the heat massage his perpetually tense muscles and relaxed happily.
It was quite some time before he snapped out of his utter relaxation to realize he didn't have any shampoo or soap. He bit his lip and glanced around. As if summoned, a bottle of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, along with a wash cloth, tooth brush, toothpaste, deodorant, and face wash appeared.
"Cool," he murmured, too relaxed to manage to convey the enthusiasm he'd intended.
"What?" Harry asked from the other stall.
"The shampoo and stuff," he explained as his grin widened. "They're even my brand!"
Harry chuckled. "Glad you like it," he responded, pleased that his idea to create a spell for automatic toiletries had worked properly.
Harry was finished with his shower long before Draco. He had expected as much, and it pleased him to no end. He knew that the blonde had never truly felt clean in the hospital - he had showered often and come out scowling, displeased. But this time, when Draco stepped from the shower area as Harry continued to scrub at his thick hair to dry it, he had a pleased smile on his face and his body was relaxed.
Harry's mouth went dry at the sight.
Draco had chosen a pair of black slacks which, being a size or two too large because of Harry's muscular frame, rode low on Draco's slender hips, looking as though a slight movement would have them slithering off. The shirt was long enough to compensate, however, as he had chosen a long-bodied polo of the richest crimson which hid Draco's still-too-skinny torso and made him look more fleshed out. His face had regained some of the glow it had lost in the House and never fully got back in the hospital, and his hair was delightfully tousled as he dragged a towel through it.
"What's wrong? Did I pick something you didn't want me to wear?" Draco asked worriedly, and the questions made Harry realize he had been staring.
"No, nono, absolutely not. You picked… you picked well." He attempted to cover his tracks by tearing his gaze away to look behind Draco. But there was nothing to look at, and his action only served to make him blush. He noticed that Draco hadn't donned the socks he held loosely in one hand, and realized that he hadn't pointed out where a pair of shoes would be. For some reason, the sight of Draco's pale feet poking out from beneath the slacks was as much a turn-on as the rest of the outfit, bringing an air of relaxation to the otherwise not-quite-casual outfit.
"We can… we can alter them," he pointed out after a moment. "So they fit better. I… I didn't even think about it."
Draco smiled and rubbed at his hair with the towel, pleased with himself. Harry seemed to be flustered, and a tiny part of his mind couldn't help but hope that it was because Harry found him attractive.
"They're fine how they are," he decided. He knew that the slacks were teasingly loose, and the nearly baggy polo drew attention away from the fact that he was unnaturally slender. He was hoping to get more of a reaction from the raven-haired man, and he knew that if he altered the clothing the chance would be diminished.
"Well, we'll have to alter the shoes. I think your feet are too big to fit in mine." Harry was still remarkably small for a man his age, despite his muscular build, and Draco was a few inches taller.
Draco shrugged and strode a few steps closer to Harry, his smile teasing and his movements seductive.
Harry seemed to be having difficulty swallowing. "Y… yeah," Harry stuttered. "Yeah, we'll have to alter the shoes. Here, let me… show you where they are."
Draco followed Harry with a pleased smirk.
There was no doubt about it; Harry was definitely flustered because of his appearance.
Harry ran the towel through his hair a few times before tossing it into the bin. He then forced his attention to the task at hand and magically altered the shoes before handing them to Draco. "Those should fit," he murmured, and waved Draco closer. "Let me at least tighten those slacks a bit," he insisted.
Something shot through Draco. He wasn't sure how to identify it, but it made his skin tingle and his throat stick. At first he automatically confused it with fear, but he knew that he would never fear Harry.
So he stepped forward cautiously, and as Harry tugged the hem of the shirt up to grasp the waistband of the slacks, Draco let out a shuddering breath as he recognized it as desire. Certainly, he'd marveled at Harry's beauty on multiple occasions, and had even been moved to kiss Harry's soft lips. But this… this was new.
Harry's hair was wild with the halfhearted attempts to dry it, and several locks, heavy with water, were drooping against Harry's forehead. A few were still dripping, and as Draco watched, a heavy droplet slithered down Harry's forehead, arched around his nose, and came to settle in the crease between Harry's pursed lips. Harry licked the drop away without a thought, and the sight of his pink tongue darting out nearly brought a sigh to Draco's lips. Then he felt the slacks tightening around his hips, and he returned his attention to what Harry was doing.
"I hope you know I feel remarkably underdressed," Harry teased, his eyes flicking away from his task with the slacks to take in Draco's face.
The expression in those silver eyes was unreadable, yet it shot a jolt of longing through Harry's nerves. His hands, still working experimentally to ensure the comfort of the slacks, suddenly slowed and relaxed against Draco's hips, until he was simply holding Draco's waist comfortably.
Draco smiled slightly. "Thank you," he murmured, and stepped away. Harry felt his hands slither away from Draco's body with a disappointed wince. He turned his face away to hide the expression, certain it would make Draco uncomfortable.
"Sure," he responded automatically, and forced himself to stand and pretend nothing had happened as he made his way to the mirrors above the sinks. He snagged a comb out of his locker on the way and fruitlessly attempted to tame his unruly hair.
"There's a few spares in there somewhere," Harry told Draco, who nodded and rummaged through the locker. He produced a comb and sat upon the bench beside Harry's locker to attack the mass of blonde locks he had somehow accrued.
Harry gave him a sideways glance, noticing that Draco made no move toward the row of mirrors.
When, a long minute later, Draco had made very little headway in the tangled mess, he looked to Harry hopelessly. At Harry's chuckle, he explained. "I've never had to do anything with it. Drowry… didn't let me bother with it. At one point one of the girls took it upon herself to brush it out, but once… once Drowry sold me she never had time."
Harry's heart ached; he glanced between Draco and the mirror, but didn't state the obvious. He motioned toward the comb instead. "Let me," he offered, and Draco handed the comb over gratefully.
"You have to start at the ends," Harry explained, and straddled the bench behind Draco to demonstrate. "Otherwise it gets all tangled up and it's hopeless. A proper brush would be…" he trailed off and stood once more to rummage. "I actually might… have one," he murmured, and smiled triumphantly as he produced a brush. "This will reduce the amount of pulling," he explained, and began to carefully drag the brush through Draco's long hair. "Don't let it get all flipped over, it's easier to part it down the middle and then do one half at a time."
"How do you know so much about long hair?" Draco whined.
Harry laughed. "Well, I've practically lived with Sev for a year and a half. But before that, I used to hang around way too many women. My aurors nearly had me convinced, at one point, that I should grow my hair out, and several of the women told me about the care of long hair so that I wouldn't be intimidated. But I ended up deciding against it."
Draco smiled. Harry's hands were extremely gentle as they pulled the brush through his hair and constantly straightened the strands to prevent them from tangling. Before long, the tangles had been worked out, and Harry simply pulled the brush gently along Draco's scalp, the motion soothing them both. Draco could feel Harry's fingertips tracing through his still-damp hair and shivered ever so slightly.
"Also, some find it easier to detangle while in the shower. When you put in conditioner, all you have to do is brush it through fully. It'll be easier than trying to do it afterward. It helps to brush it out as you rinse the conditioner, too."
Draco was utterly relaxed beneath Harry's gentle ministrations. He felt as though he could purr.
"I'll try that next time," Draco agreed halfheartedly. He was truly trying to listen to what Harry was saying, but since the tangles didn't tug any longer, the sensation of the brush slithering across his scalp was better than a massage.
"And keep in mind you can't towel your hair dry as though you had short hair. That'll make a right mess of things."
Draco's response was a low grunt, and Harry could tell Draco had stopped listening. He continued to groom Draco's fine hair, pleased that Draco seemed to find comfort in the action.
"I've never known that brushing my hair could feel so good," Draco purred after a few long minutes. "It feels like my scalp is dancing."
Harry grinned as he stood to move around in front of Draco. He ran the brush through the front of Draco's hair and flipped it so that it fell slightly in front of Draco's face on either side. He produced his wand and flicked it while he murmured an incantation which would behave as the equivalent of a hair dryer, and dried the remnants of water from Draco's hair.
"Perfect," he announced, and smiled at his handiwork.
Draco returned the smile. "Thank you."
Harry cocked his head and furrowed his brow at the blonde.
"I think…" he began hesitantly. "I think you would be pleasantly surprised if you were to look in the mirror," he offered.
Draco's smile melted.
Harry cursed himself, his fears confirmed. "You have been avoiding the mirrors," he explained. "I assumed that you didn't want to see yourself. And that means you have probably been avoiding mirrors all this time."
Draco nodded, a bare hint of movement.
"I understand if you don't want to," Harry assured him hurriedly. "I was just..."
Draco let out a long, slow breath, closing his eyes against Harry's searching look. He bowed his head, at war within himself. "It's been a long time since I've recognized anything that looked back at me. I turned into something I never wanted to be while I was there. It… scared me to see myself look so…" he couldn't finish the statement, his voice choked.
"Oh, Draco," Harry breathed, kneeling down to be on eye level with Draco. He placed a hand under Draco's chin and gently guided Draco's lowered gaze to meet his own. "I'm not going to force you to do anything, ever. And I'm sorry if I upset you by bringing this up. But I just know that… you should never be ashamed to look at yourself, Draco."
Draco winced and pulled away abruptly. "But… I'm…"
"Beautiful. Strong. Amazing."
"A whore."
"A man who was victimized. A survivor."
Draco huffed a breath and hummed a bar from a song, somehow amused.
"I'm a survivor, I'm not gon' give up…" Harry sang softly in response to Draco's gentle hum.
Draco's huff turned into a shocked chuckle.
Harry's hands gripped Draco's and squeezed, once, gently. "I won't force you, Draco. But I will be here for you. Always."
Draco's smile returned hesitantly. "Alright," he breathed.
Harry froze, not sure whether Draco was agreeing to look in the mirror, or accepting that Harry wasn't forcing him.
Draco's smile widened at Harry's expression. "I'll look."
Harry grinned, and Draco silently decided that it would be worth it just to see Harry look so openly pleased with him.
Harry's mouth ran away with him suddenly. "And if you don't like the hair, we can get it cut while we're shopping. I think it looks great, but it's obviously up to you…"
"Shopping?" Draco interrupted.
Harry smiled. "Didn't I tell you? I'm taking you shopping for new clothes."
Draco lowered his eyes. "But I haven't got any money," he objected, ashamed. "When my father realized that I wasn't 'loyal,' he…"
"Draco, dear, I have more than enough money to take you shopping. You can't possibly want to wear my clothes. I mean, I do have a lot of clothes, but that just goes to show that I can afford to buy you some. It's no problem at all."
"I don't want you to do that," he insisted. "I can't ask you to put me up and buy me new clothes. Already you've done too much, I could never ask you to do more."
"You're not asking," Harry pointed out decisively. "I'm offering. Now hush up, there'll be no convincing me otherwise, you're going to just have to play dress-up all day and let me dote on you," he teased.
Draco snorted at that image, remembering his own thought of Harry seeing him as a broken doll.
But suddenly, seeing Harry smiling at him secretively, stubborn and resolved to bend over backward for him, the thought did not sadden him.
He rather liked the idea of being Harry's doll.
Seeing that the matter was settled, Harry stood and, his hands not having let go of Draco's, helped Draco to his feet. He ignored the tiny voice in his mind that insisted that he did so simply to have an excuse to continue holding onto Draco.
"Hang on, close your eyes for a second," he instructed, and when Draco complied he positioned him the proper distance from the mirror. He ran his fingertips through the blonde locks one last time, then examined his handiwork. Draco stood patiently, his lips slightly tilted upward, despite the tiny furrow between his brows. Harry could see the play of expectation and worry cross Draco's features, and had to restrain himself from giving Draco a gentle kiss of reassurance.
Instead, he stepped to Draco's side and put his hand on Draco's shoulder.
"Alright, you can look."
Draco's eyes opened and immediately fell on Harry's reflection. He looked worried and hopeful at the same time, and Draco smiled at him comfortingly. Then his eyes traveled to the blonde stranger beside Harry.
Draco's features had matured in the last two years. He had filled out his babyish features and his mouth, which had been rather pinched, had widened and filled out pleasantly. His eyes were still the same penetrating silver, but they were wider, more worldly, and held the maturity of two years of hell in them. His gaze traveled across his features as though seeing them for the first time. It was the first time he was able to realize he was no longer a gangly teenager. Instead, he was a man, and his handsome face reflected that well. His shoulders had broadened despite his emaciation, and though his arms were slender, they still held the wiry muscles of his youth within them. His hair, positioned so that it floated comfortably about his face, hid his cheeks somewhat, along with the fact that they were still decidedly hollow.
His eyes flew back to Harry.
"It's weird," he pointed out simply.
Harry smiled hesitantly.
"I haven't seen myself in over a year. Almost two," he murmured. "I… I don't understand how I've changed so much, though."
The raven haired man shrugged, his lips quirking.
"You look amazing," he couldn't resist pointing out.
Draco smiled, and watched as his features pulled into an appealing mixture of pleasure and delicate embarrassment.
Harry waited patiently for Draco to adjust to the sight of himself. He couldn't imagine how jarring it would be to see oneself for the first time in two years, especially after a stage where so much maturing occurred. He imagined the Draco he had last seen, a handsome yet somehow awkward teenager who looked an uncomfortable amount like his father, and compared it to the man who was standing before him.
Somehow, despite the fact that his face had matured, which would, logically, make him appear more like his father, the years had pulled him further away from his father's sneering features. The widening of his jaw and features along with the suffering he had endured had made his face appear more open, honest, and as a result one would hardly match him to his cruel father.
As if reading Harry's mind, Draco smiled. "I look nothing like my father," he announced, and seemed to be genuinely pleased with that fact. Harry didn't blame him. Lucius Malfoy was a remarkably handsome man, yet his face was forever twisted in a sneer, and his narrowed eyes and pinched lips only contributed to the overall displeasing aura the man possessed. His handsomeness was wrapped within an air of hatred, and as such, the beauty was of an evil kind, the kind that lured unsuspecting victims in and spat them out ruined. Draco, on the other hand, was handsome in a more classical sense. He shared the general shape of his father's face, but his lopsided smile and pleasant eyes put miles between he and his father.
Harry nodded. "You look positively gorgeous compared to your father," he emphasized.
Draco dipped his head and blushed, pleased.
"I'm sorry, Draco, I'm not meaning to be… so blunt, it's just that you look really good. I remember what you looked like the first day I saw you… in the House… and you… you look healthy," he finished lamely. He cringed at how awkwardly the words came out, realizing just after he'd begun the last few phrases that they were the wrong thing to say.
The image came unbidden to Harry's mind of that broken and bleeding man crawling toward him, pain making his movements short and jerky and his hair a tangled mass. He remembered the first good look he had managed to get of Draco, after he had finally revealed that there was no use in hiding. The eyes which had once been as vibrant as molten silver were dull and lifeless, his cheeks sunken and a trickle of his own blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. Unwillingly Harry compared that image to the man standing before him, but couldn't possibly make it add up. This man was powerful, sure, and noble. He was not the same shivering boy Harry had saved from that place.
Draco seemed to be thinking of the same thing, and Harry scolded himself mentally for having brought it up. He saw Draco shudder as his hand raised as though to wipe away the trail of blood, before reality intruded.
A breath exploded from Draco's mouth and he spun away from the mirror as though burned.
"I don't want to be that person, Harry," he moaned, and bowed his head. "I don't want to be that person anymore."
Harry winced and pulled him close. "You're not, Draco. Just look at yourself. You're nothing like that kid. You're a powerful wizard, Draco, who managed to live through that. You're not him anymore. He's a part of you, but he's not all of you."
Draco's breath was coming in short little pants, and he shook his head against Harry's shoulder. "I don't know who I am anymore." His voice was strained and Harry wasn't sure how to respond.
Draco settled his face against Harry's neck, his shoulders hunched and shuddering with the force of his breath. Harry felt warm tears trailing down his own collar bone, and he kicked himself for having pushed the mirror issue. When would he learn to just let things go? He couldn't fix everything.
Draco noticed the warmth beneath his lips, and even through the fog of self-loathing swirling up into his consciousness, he noticed the smoothness of Harry's skin. He placed a gentle kiss there, at the warm place beneath which Harry's pulse throbbed.
Harry's breath caught, confused by the gesture.
Draco nuzzled gently, testing Harry's reaction. Harry stood frozen, scared to react negatively and scare Draco away, but knowing that this was potentially a Very Bad Thing. Draco's name began to form on his lips, when Draco's mouth opened and his teeth pressed against Harry's throat without warning. Harry gasped, the name he'd begun to say sticking in his throat and choking him. The feel of Draco's mouth, so boldly nipping at his neck, was so distracting, and so terrifying. He had no idea how to respond to this sudden advance, only knew that he didn't want to scare Draco away.
And some part of him that was beyond reason and hadn't felt another's lips on his body in years wanted it to continue
Draco paused with his teeth perched over Harry's skin. His disgust with himself had sent his mind into a jumble, and his tenuous grip on his self-control had shattered with his confusion. He suddenly was desperate for the taste of Harry's skin, and didn't care what he had to do to achieve it. The desire that had surged through his veins just minutes before raced back to the forefront of his mind, and he grew determined to experience it fully.
Determined to mark Harry as his own.
It was inexplicable. He had never felt so strongly aroused so quickly before, nor had he ever felt the urge to mark someone. Yet somehow, a large part of his mind was suddenly straining against his common sense, straining to close his incisors over Harry's skin. His tongue hesitantly peeked from between his teeth and gently stroked its way down Harry's skin. Harry shuddered and every thought of pushing Draco away fled. Some selfish, depraved part of his mind convinced him that Draco's response, on any other person, would be perfectly natural. People acted on their desires all the time. There was nothing wrong with being the recipient of such desires.
Draco seemed to be waiting for some cue from Harry, and Harry's shocked mind didn't have the time to regain its senses before he responded.
His choices: push Draco away and sort out the confusion as to what the hell was hapening, or let himself get carried away…
Before his mind even had a chance to weigh the options, he tilted his head back ever so slightly, giving Draco his permission.
Draco's teeth dug deep into Harry's tender flesh.
Harry let out a gasp as Draco's teeth sank into his neck; he felt his legs begin to tremble as Draco instantly soothed the reddened area with his tongue. The tremble moved from his legs and into his arms, and his legs begin to collapse. The unexpected surge of pleasure the action brought to him had him clutching Draco's shoulders for support rather than in comfort.
Draco applied a gentle suction to the area when he felt no adverse reaction and began to move his mouth, sucking and nibbling and licking Harry's delectable neck. A ragged groan ripped out of Harry's throat. Draco shifted his teeth slightly higher, near to Harry's chin, and Harry's head fell back as though boneless. Draco smiled victoriously against Harry's skin and let his breath fan against Harry's throat.
Harry shuddered.
Draco ducked his head and continued his attentions to the tanned skin beneath his teeth. He deepened the pressure as he felt a fine tremor develop in Harry's arms and back.
Slowly Draco shifted himself forward, using his grasp on Harry to inch the quivering raven-haired man back. Harry stumbled backward automatically as the blonde nudged him, and found himself pressed against his locker. Draco's fingers trailed against Harry's sensitive belly, his mouth never leaving Harry's neck. He moved upward slowly, tasting and teasing the skin across Harry's exposed throat, until his lips found their way to Harry's chin.
Harry whimpered, his arms clenching more tightly to Draco's shoulders and back. Some part of him screaming that there was something wrong with this picture; nothing came to mind aside from the immense pleasure he was receiving from Draco's experienced lips.
Draco's experience.
Suddenly reality crashed down upon Harry and he saw the situation for what it was. Draco had been upset, he remembered, and had sought comfort. He had been caught in his memories. He…
He was reacting how he thought Harry wanted him to react; he was simply acting on the desire he had seen in Harry's eyes.
The realization sent awareness singing through Harry's veins, and he quickly stilled, pulling his head upright from where it had been against his locker. Draco allowed this, but only to sink his teeth lower into Harry's neck. Harry nearly forgot what had alarmed him as an intense jolt of pleasure ripped through him as Draco's teeth found his mark, but he refused to let himself be seduced at Draco's expense. He whined and moved his arms from behind Draco, instead pulling them between himself and Draco and giving Draco a slight nudge. He nearly lost his concentration yet again as Draco let out a low growl as he worried the tender skin of Harry's throat; the vibration of Draco's voice coupled with his teeth sinking ever deeper into the mark he had made on Harry's neck was almost too much. Harry didn't understand his reaction. True, his neck had always been sensitive, but his reaction thus far was insane. His eyes glanced to where they had been standing, and he realized he didn't remember the process of becoming pressed into his locker. Fear thrilled through his mind. What was he doing? What was going on? Why couldn't he control himself? Draco's hands and teeth tried to distract Harry from his newfound clarity of thought, yet his fear of the truth had him pressing Draco away.
But Draco was not ready to be done with his captive. His teeth tightened their grip and his hands traveled quickly to grab Harry's ass. He dragged Harry upward, tilting his hips against Harry's, and pulled Harry's legs around his hips. Harry gasped at the intimacy of the action and had to force his legs not to lock behind Draco. But Draco seemed not to notice his lack of cooperation nor the jeans that both men wore. He supported Harry with his hands while thrusting his hips against Harry's ass until he was supported once again against the locker. He growled possessively; Harry whimpered his submission as his back was slammed rhythmically into the metal, Draco's thrusts against the thin covering of Harry's blue jeans slowly gaining intensity and fervor.
Harry's confusion had quickly turned to fear, not just of the situation but, in a sad, panicky way, of Draco himself. Harry wanted to believe that Draco wasn't capable of pushing the issue, but the strength with which he had Harry pinned against the lockers wasn't something to trifle with. Harry knew that if it came down to a contest of strength, he would more than be able to handle himself. But he also knew, in a deep part of his heart, that he could never fight Draco. He would rather die than hurt his Draco.
The entirety of the situation had happened within moments. Harry realized that his hands were pressing against Draco's chest, but that his throat had yet to respond to his attempts to speak.
"Draco, please, NO!" Harry finally managed to gasp.
In his shock at the rejection Draco jerked away, forgetting his grip on Harry's legs. Harry fell to the ground on his ass, his head snapping back to connect with the metal locker with a thud. He grunted in pain as Draco reeled backward.
Horror filled Draco's silver eyes, and he seemed as though he was ready to throw up. He covered his mouth and had to breathe deeply in order to calm himself.
"Harry," he whimpered.
Harry remained where he had fallen, his breathing heavy and his eyes slightly unfocused.
"Harry, I'm sorry," Draco choked, his voice thick with what Harry took to be revulsion. "I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry."
His voice broke and he fell to his knees before Harry. The words continued to spill from his lips rapidly, as though every second that Harry did not respond he grew more panicked. "Harry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, Harry. Harry, please, I'm sorry."
Harry forced his eyes to focus on the blonde and he was finally able to comprehend the words Draco was repeating.
"No, Draco, it's okay," he assured, forcing his voice to remain somewhat calm. He thought he would growl the words, his voice was so thick, but instead they came out choked.
Tears were spilling down Draco's face, slithering down his cheeks and onto the hand that was still clenched across his mouth.
"Oh, God, Harry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Harry, please, Harry, I'm sorry."
Harry's hands reached to clasp around Draco's face. "It's okay, Draco. Don't freak out. Please, calm down, Draco."
"Harry, I didn't mean to do that, Harry, I didn't mean to, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that, Harry."
Harry shook his head and forced the blond to meet his eyes. The silver of his eyes lent his tears a luminescent quality, and Harry had difficulty not staring.
"Draco. Listen to me, Draco. Stop apologizing."
"Harry," Draco moaned dismally. "Harry, Harry I… Harry!"
Harry nearly smiled at Draco's compromise. It seemed that if he wasn't able to apologize, he would instead repeat the only part of his sentences he could.
"Draco. Calm down and listen to me. Draco, calm down, it's okay."
Draco fell silent but his body still trembled with emotion. His silver eyes spilled a plethora of tears across his hand, and he couldn't quite hold Harry's gaze.
"Draco, do you understand me? Take a deep breath, calm down."
Draco obeyed the first part of the command. His breath whistled through his clenched fingers as he gasped air into his mouth.
"Draco, are you alright?" Harry asked as gently as he knew how.
Draco nodded miserably. "I'm sorry," he peeped.
"Draco, stop that. Stop apologizing, you did nothing wrong."
That blond head whipped back and forth in denial. "I... oh, God, Harry. I never meant to do that, Harry, I shouldn't have… Avery… God, I'm one of them!"
"Draco!" Harry exclaimed, horrified. "No, don't you even think that way!" he commanded, not willing to acknowledge the tiny part of his mind which had, for a moment, feared that very thing. "Draco Malfoy, look at me. Look at me!"
Draco's eyes raised miserably to look at Harry.
"Don't you think that way, Draco. Please, just relax, nothing happened. You're fine, I'm fine, we're fine, just pretend nothing happened."
Draco shook his head and his fingers clenched more tightly against his mouth. "What have I done?" he moaned, and collapsed.
Harry lunged and caught the blonde as he slumped to his side. He pulled Draco into his lap and began to rub his back soothingly. "It's alright, Draco. I'm sorry I…"
Draco's eyes flew open and his hand moved away from his mouth. "What did you do?" he demanded. "You didn't do anything, why are you apologizing? I'm the one that bloody attacked you!"
Harry lowered his eyes. Draco didn't even understand what had happened, it seemed.
"Draco, you were only acting on the…"
Draco's eyes widened as he focused for the first time on the livid mark he had left on Harry's throat.
"Oh, God," he moaned, and his fingers reached to touch it.
"Draco," Harry reprimanded, and caught the blonde's hand before he could touch the still-tender mark. "Draco, it's alright, just relax. Let's just relax and calm down, just hold on a minute and calm down. We just have to hold on a minute and calm down, we have to just relax and think about what just happened."
He knew he was rambling, but didn't know how to stop himself.
"Are you alright, Draco?" he asked, somewhat calmed when he realized that he was nearly panicking.
Draco seemed to have gotten over his shock. He dipped his head and tucked himself beneath Harry's chin, trembling still but breathing more normally.
"Draco, talk to me. Are you alright?"
"I'm okay," he whimpered. "I'm sorry."
"Draco, stop apologizing; I'm telling you, if anyone should be apologizing it's me."
"You're not disgusted with me?" Draco's voice asked weakly.
Harry moaned in misery. "No, Draco. God, no, Draco. I'm not disgusted with you."
Draco raised his head slowly. "You're not?"
"No," Harry insisted forcefully. "I'm not. If anything, I'm disgusted with myself. Some part of me knew, I knew you were only reacting as those monsters programmed you to, and still I didn't stop you…"
Draco's indignant huff interrupted Harry's words. "I did not do that because of the House of Serenity, Harry," he insisted, then tucked his head once more against Harry's shoulder. He let himself be comforted by Harry's calm assuredness and lack of disgust.
"You… you didn't?" Harry questioned, shock jolting through him.
Draco shook his head. Harry thought that had been an act? "Sure, I may not be very… proper… in my affections," he began to explain. "But I wasn't simply acting, Harry. I was doing exactly what I wanted to do."
Harry's mouth opened and closed, confused. "Then… I don't understand…"
But before Draco could respond the door to the locker room slammed open. Harry cursed at the interruption, damning his luck. Draco leapt to his feet, the look of a startled doe in his eyes seeming to beg Harry not to say anything about what had just happened. Harry gave him a reassuring smile as Draco gave him a hand up.
Draco turned away and was confronted with the mirrors. Acting out of desperation, he pretended to busy himself in the mirror- it was still startling to look upon himself- while Harry packed up the things they had pulled from his locker.
"Draco!" an all-too-familiar voice screeched in excitement. Draco's eyes flicked to look behind him in the mirror.
"Padma!" he bellowed, and spun around. In three huge strides he was across the room, sweeping her up into his arms and twirling her around. She was smaller than he remembered, he thought as he enfolded her in his arms.
"Draco, it's so good to see you!" she gushed, and rained friendly kisses on his cheeks. "The healers wouldn't let me see you, Draco, they said that I would only remind you… well, and so they kept me away."
"I wondered where you were," he responded, his brow furrowed as he set her gently on the floor. "I thought you'd forgotten about me!"
Padma let her eyes show her offense. "Draco Malfoy, I would never!" she chided, and once again threw her arms around him. "You look spectacular, Draco!"
Draco smiled. "You look quite stunning yourself, my lovely lady," he answered, his Malfoy charm turned on high. "And you should have told those dumb-ass healers that you were the best thing that happened to me in that wretched place and it would have been wonderful to see you well! I've worried about you," he admitted.
Harry couldn't help but smile as he saw how relaxed Draco was around the petite woman.
"You needn't have. Oh, Harry! Hello!" she chirped, and spun out of Draco's arms to fling herself in Harry's. Harry didn't notice her eyes take in the mark on his neck curiously. "How've you been doing? Fudge has kept me so busy I haven't gotten a chance to call and see what you've been up to!"
"Fudge?" Harry exclaimed. "You're already at work?"
She flinched and took a step away.
"Padma Patil! You should be taking time off! You should not be returning to work, especially not for Fudge!" He spat the name like something extremely foul.
Padma smiled hesitantly. "He's been really good about it, Harry. And… well, all of us have come back."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Dear heavens, woman! Are you all insane!"
She narrowed her eyes. "Harry. It's helping. Don't worry. Having something to do… it keeps the memories away."
Harry's eyes softened and he nodded. "I can understand that," he replied, and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "I'm sorry Padma."
"Oh, psh, you have no reason to apologize. So," she drawled, clearly attempting to change the subject. "Where are my two favorite men running off to?"
Harry nodded toward Draco. "I'm going to take him clothes shopping and then he's going to crash at my place."
Padma brightened considerably. "Clothes shopping?" she exclaimed, and Harry sighed as he realized he'd said the magic words.
"Yeah, clothes shopping. Would you like to come along?" he offered grudgingly. He knew that shopping with an exuberant woman would take three times as long as shopping alone, but knew that Draco and Padma would do well with time to bond. They had shared some of their worst moments, and Padma had been the only thing keeping Draco alive in that place.
She grinned widely. "I'd love to!" she squeaked, and practically jumped up and down as she began to lead Draco by the arm. "We have got to go to that new place over by…"
Draco resisted her tugging gently. "I'm sorry, Padma, but… can I have a minute to talk to Harry? I promise we'll only be a while, I just…"
"Sure!" she interrupted quickly, and tossed him a wink. "I came down here to use the lady's room anyway, I'll just go to the one down the hall."
Draco smiled gratefully. "Thank you, dear," he murmured, and relaxed. He had hoped she wouldn't take it personally.
"I'll just be waiting upstairs," she tossed over her shoulder.
Draco took a moment to watch her walk away before turning back to Harry, his hand delving into his pocket to produce a small silver object.
"I understand," Harry said immediately.
Draco cocked his head in curiosity. When Harry was more interested in studying the pattern on the floor than elaborating, Draco spoke up.
"Understand what?"
Harry's eyes flickered to his face before settling on the floor again. "That you don't want me to go. That you don't want to stay at my place. I completely understand, and I'm sorry that I've made you uncomfortable, I just I just I…" Harry looked up hopelessly at Draco. "I'm sorry."
Draco shook his head and blinked several times as though to clear the confusion away.
"What the ruddy hell are you talking about?" he finally burst out.
Harry's eyes fled to stare at the floor. "I'm sorry I reacted the way I did, I just… and I can understand that you don't want to stay at my place, I can talk to Snape, I'm sure you can stay with him for a while, or maybe Padma has an extra room…"
Draco stared carefully at Harry's stance, searching for a sign that he was not wanted. When he found that Harry was genuinely contrite, he was even more confused.
"You don't want me to stay at your place anymore?" he clarified carefully, just to be sure. His voice held no offence, only confusion. He didn't understand what had brought this about. Had Harry actually been disgusted by his actions and just didn't want him to know?
"Of course I do!" Harry responded hotly, and his voice vouched for his honesty. "I just mean that… after what happened… I can understand if you're no longer comfortable around me."
Draco strode forward warily. "Harry, you're… you're the only person I'm comfortable around."
Harry's gaze flicked to the doorway, and Draco accurately guessed what he was thinking.
"Honestly, Harry, I think that… if you hadn't been here, seeing her… would have been, well, bad. Not too bad, but… I mean, the healers were right, she reminds me of that place. But you ground me, and help me to remember that Padma was all that was good in that place. She was comfort and healing and food, even though that place was hell. But I… I don't know that I could be around her without something to remind me that I'm not there anymore. That that's no longer my reality."
Harry lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Draco," he murmured.
Draco tugged him into a hug. "I'm sorry about earlier, Harry. Can we just do like you said? Pretend it didn't happen?"
Harry smiled. "Sure, Draco. As long as you're okay with that."
"Of course," he grinned, and lowered his eyes to the object in his hands. "Harry, I… this… this is something one of my father's uncles gave me. He never did like my father much, said he was too prissy, but he… he was always kind to me. He gave this to me on my seventeenth birthday, he said that he had made it especially for me. He said that the serpent was once considered a noble creature, and is associated with healing and protection."
Harry looked down to find a metal serpent, about the width of his pinky, resting in Draco's palm. It was the most detailed piece of metalwork he had ever seen, with a body that seemed to writhe and coil before his very eyes. He watched it, amazed. It was moving, very slightly. Its eyes were fashioned from flecks of emerald, and the rest of it was made of shining silver. Harry had never seen a more beautiful piece of metalwork.
"My father took it from me soon after he found out about it. He never liked his uncle much. But he always kept it at the manor, for some reason. I had always expected he would sell it the first chance he got, but he didn't. I got Sev to take me to the house before I came here…"
"It's beautiful," Harry observed, playing his fingertips across it, and smiled at Draco, slightly confused.
"I want you to have it," Draco finished on a whisper.
Harry withdrew his hand as though burned. "Draco!" he breathed, shocked. "No, I can't… I can't accept that. I can't, I appreciate it, really, I do, but I simply can't."
Draco picked the snake up from where it was coiled in his hand. "Please, Harry. For me? I would like you to have it. I've always wanted you to have it. Please. Please take it, even if you never wear it. Please."
Harry could only stare dumbly as Draco held the snake up to him. He reached a hand out tentatively, and was shocked when the little metal snake slithered onto his hand, up his arm, over his shoulder, and around his neck. It wrapped its tail and body around the back of his neck so that it encircled his whole neck, letting its head rest against his chest.
"Draco… are you… are you sure?"
Draco smiled and patted it on the head lightly. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he declared decisively. "I want you to have it. Besides, I think it wants you to have it," he pointed out, and smiled at the content metal snake.
Harry stroked its head lightly, marveling when it raised its head to rub against his finger. It was damn near acting like a puppy rather than a snake, especially one of the metal variety. "It's incredible," he whispered, and watched it rub against the ends of his fingers.
Draco's smile would have melted a dragon's heart. "I'm glad you like it."
Harry stopped petting the snake to run a hand along Draco's cheek. "Thank you."
Draco let his eyes trace the serpent, eyeing where the scales settled around the mark on Harry's neck. "You're welcome."
Harry wasn't sure what to say. Not only had he never received such a beautiful gift, but he had most especially never received one that meant so much.
Draco gestured to the mark on Harry's neck. "But you may want to find an explanation for that mark. Padma could barely contain herself when she saw it. She wanted to ask you so badly. I'm sure she'll give in at some point or another and ask." As he spoke, he slid the socks and shoes Harry had given him on, desperate for something else to focus on.
"Oh, come on, it can't be that obvious," Harry chuckled, relieved to have a reason to change the topic, and made his way to the mirror. "Usually I don't really bruise… bloody hell!"
Draco winced at Harry's shocked exclamation. "I'm sorry," he murmured again.
But Harry was laughing. "Bloody hell, Draco! You practically drew blood!"
The mark was already vibrantly purple, with a set of very clearly defined bite marks along the front of his neck.
Draco hid his face and groaned.
"No, Draco, don't feel bad," Harry hurried to assure him. "Honestly, it's just… wow. You're good," he joked.
Draco rolled his eyes.
"You're like a pit bull, Draco. Nice grip!"
Draco couldn't help the snort of amusement that erupted.
"Atta boy! Relax a little, it's no big deal, I'll just heal it so that…"
"No!" Draco objected.
Harry froze with his wand halfway to his throat.
"Uh… if you heal it, Padma will know that I did it, because she'll have seen us acting as though nothing happened and then suddenly you come out healed, she'll wonder why you hadn't healed it already and will know it's me."
Harry looked at him strangely. "You think she'll figure that out?" he wondered aloud.
"Yeah," Draco assured him. "So you'll have to just leave it, pretend you meant to have it there all this time, wear it with pride type of thing."
Harry touched the bite mark gingerly. "I can imagine what people will say," he groaned. "My luck we'll see Dean and Ron or something. No, I had better take it off. It looks like I was attacked by some wild animal."
Draco laughed along with Harry but was inwardly desperate to have the mark remain. Seeing his mark alongside his serpent on Harry's throat stirred something primal within him, and he didn't want to have it go away. But he knew that Harry was not his, was not his to kiss, to touch, to mark. He had no business wanting to see his teeth in Harry's flesh.
"Unless it hurts," Draco added weakly, as a second thought. He didn't want Harry to suffer for him, but wanted to have a reason to continue to see the mark. It somehow complimented the silver of the serpent, and made Draco's heart tingle comfortably.
Harry grinned at him in the mirror. "No, it doesn't," he replied, and something in Draco's face made him backtrack. "Well, you're right about Padma, though. She'll know right away it was you if I take it off."
Draco brightened. "So you'll leave it on?"
Harry seemed confused, but agreed.
Draco's gaze flickered to the mark with a predatory gleam. "Cool," he cheered, then made his way out of the room to where Padma waited.
Harry examined the mark for a moment longer. His fingers probed it experimentally, and he couldn't contain the shudder that caused him to grip the sink with his free hand as a jolt of pleasure ripped through him. He met his eyes in the mirror in wonder. He had never had a mark of its kind feel so very good. He whispered his fingertips across the indentations of Draco's teeth, and nearly groaned aloud.
He forced himself to delay his inspection of the mark for another time, because at present moment, the damn thing felt like some sort of magic. Writing it off as raging hormones, he put on his best shopping face strode from the room in search of his party.
He never noticed that he and Draco had never come up with a proper explanation for the mark.
What he found when he found Draco widened his eyes considerably. Several of his female guards were flocking around an extremely uncomfortable Draco Malfoy. He was looking around frantically for Harry, and when his eyes fell on the raven haired man he visibly relaxed.
"Well, ladies," he murmured. "Me and Harry must be off. I'm so glad to see you all well. I was worried about you guys."
Lavender spun and saw Harry. "Harry!" she squealed, and the flock of girls bombarded Harry instead. "We heard you were taking the job back, Harry, is it true? When we heard you quit after we disappeared, well, we were so upset! We had been hoping to regain our old positions but Fudge has been absolutely delightful, well, delightful when compared to how he used to be. He's been doting on us like his own daughters!"
Harry smiled to hear that. "I'm glad," he purred, and shook the hands of the dozen women gathered around him. "I'm so glad you're all here," he exclaimed, and watched their anxious faces.
"Yes, yes, I'm taking my position back," he admitted. Several squeals of excitement erupted.
"Wow, and my first command back on the job is to never squeal like that again." The girls' indignation was clear, and Harry laughed, though he walked away from the encounter sporting a sore arm. "We'll have a team meeting soon, very soon, to discuss how we're going to go back to the old ways, but we're definitely going to be a whole team again. Each and every one of us will be reporting back to business as usual," he grinned.
"Aye, and with a new member!" Padma piped up, and Harry cocked his head in confusion.
"New member? What do you mean?"
Padma cocked a brow and motioned with both hands toward Draco, who, at Harry's confusion, looked again uncomfortable.
"Ta-dah!" she cheered.
Harry broke into a huge grin. "You're going to work for me?" he asked happily, and Draco nodded once, not raising his eyes.
"Brilliant!" Harry cheered, and patted Draco on the back. "You should have told me!"
Draco shrugged. "I figured they would have at least talked to you about it first," he pointed out, and Harry sensed his discomfort.
"No, there's no reason to ask me about it, they knew that's what I wanted anyway! I'm so glad you're working at the ministry, Draco, you'll do so well!" he turned his attention to the women. "You should have seen him kick ass the other day. It was brilliant! He was beautiful!"
The women turned with renewed interest to Draco. "You fight?" Lavender asked curiously. "Well enough for Harry to call it beautiful? I mean, no offense, but combat is Harry's art, his cocaine. For him to call someone else fighting beautiful is like… like Tupac calling Biggie Smalls a wonderful rapper. He's very territorial."
Draco laughed while Harry pretended to be offended. "I'm not that picky," he objected halfheartedly.
Draco shrugged modestly. "I trained for a long time," he murmured.
"No, don't you dare brush that under the rug," Harry objected. "You were like… like Jackie Chan and Bruce Le had a baby and taught it how to be God. You were like, incredible!"
Draco blushed harder. "I am not that good."
Harry snorted his objection. "Not that good, my ass." Suddenly a gleam of glee entered his eye. "I bet, given a few months… I bet you could even beat me," he stated with surety.
The girls around him froze, shock flitting across their faces.
Draco seemed horrified at the very thought. "No way in hell!" he exploded. "You're loads better than me. You're…"
Harry simply smirked.
The blonde sputtered. "You're… you gotta be kidding. You're kidding. You're insane. I watched you take out thirty men while blindfolded!"
Harry's grin was sudden and delighted. "Ah, so you and Sev watched me train."
Draco's blush deepened. "Okay, yeah, sure, a little, but that's besides the point. The point being, I couldn't dream of beating you."
Harry shrugged and let it go. "If you say so," he sighed, and whispered conspiratorially to the women. "He could so whip my ass until I wished for Voldemort's slimy ass to come kill me."
Draco laughed with the women. "You're insane," he murmured, and couldn't seem to meet Harry's eyes.
Harry smiled, pleased that he had managed to distract Draco from being embarrassed about the job. "So, who's going shopping with us?" he asked the women, regretting the words the moment they left his mouth. Several of the women bowed out reluctantly, claiming they had a prior engagement. Padma, Lavender, and Angelina happily offered to assist in their shopping expedition. Harry resisted the urge to groan aloud.
"Are you gentlemen ready to be tortured?" Angelina warned them. "Because I even get exhausted after shopping with these two. And they haven't had a reason to go all-out in two years."
Harry did groan, then, and Draco immediately followed suit. "Oh, dear," Draco murmured, and smilingly waggled his finger at Padma. "You had better not drag Harry and I into every shop in London. Not even half!"
Lavender grinned widely. "We wouldn't dream of it," she agreed.
Turns out there weren't quite enough shops in London to appease them. Instead, they had to go outside of London, as well.