Title: In The Interests Of …
Author: I_nv_u50
Pairings: DracoXHarry
Disclaimer: As far as I know, I don't own anything but the plot here. (sniffs)
Draco: Oh, boohoo. The plot? Who cares about the plot?
Harry: It would be so much more interesting if you'd just allow me to f- snog Draco like we all want me to.
Draco: (eyes Harry) Especially you, it seems.
Harry: (flushes and grins)
Chapter Rating: PG13 because of the lewd conversations taking place between my muses?
Harry: Oh give over, you know you love it.
Draco: You expect her to admit it?
Harry: It'd be funny if she did, wouldn't it?
Draco: (smugly) Which is precisely why she's not going to.
Author's Notes: Um… Yea. I think this chapter's a little longer than the last. Who'm I kidding, anything is O.o; You might have to wait a little while longer for the next one, not only because it's school time (what a clichéd excuse) but also because I was reading over the next chapter last night. And it was pathetically muddled! Honestly.
Also, the arising question of sorceress vs sorcerer. No, the game has no hints of a male being able to have magic passed down to him. But then, that could just be me. I was too busy ogling Squall and Zell to care about terminology . But, since the game does only mention sorceress', and I feel that its somewhat hideously sexist to exclude the males on such awe inspiring power (uh… ) (not that females don't need some power these days… um… what was I saying?), it would be kind of wrong to call them sorcerers when the game only plays with sorceresses. Did that make sense? If it didn't, you can go back to the tried and true method of influence. This whole story was Draco's idea, based on reading too much BunnyCrash by Blackrose. And she calls them sorceresses, male or female.
Hope that cleared it up somewhat ^^;;
Aaannnd, there's another HP/DM slash being written, you can expect that out hopefully by Monday. We're going camping on the weekend!!!
Draco: Spare us the agonies of listening to you much longer.
I_nv_u50: Just for that, oh so kind remark, you can wait a few more chapters to 'get it on' with Harry.
Harry: (whines) Draco!!!
Anyhoo, enjoy the chapter, and please review!! ^^
Harry woke up alone. This was a usual occurrence, in his life, and he caught himself before he almost started missing his arrogant sorceress, preferring, on the whole, to wake up alone rather than suffer the teasing Draco would undoubtedly put him through.
Granted, it had been incredibly comforting just to be in Draco's presence, but he didn't want it to go too far, only wiling to take whatever measures necessary, not above.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, wondering when Draco had gotten up, and why he had left so early. It was, Harry thought bitterly, his idea, after all, and if he hadn't wanted to wake up with Harry then he could have at least given Harry one more option last night. A 'Go back to your own dorm' would have been preferable.
He could feel Draco a few doors down, fiddling about with something he obviously enjoyed, pleasure reverberating down the link, and Harry felt himself smile unintentionally before shuffling out of the door slowly, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning.
Draco felt him coming, but approved of the idea to ignore him, choosing to rather let his fingers pluck at the strings of an acoustic guitar.
This was another of his favorite rooms, almost topping the glass room, which got boring after one memorized all the view to be had from those windows.
This room had a wide variety of musical instruments, from flutes to a harp, mounted magnificently by the bay window, from violins to drums.
Draco could play them all.
He adored music, letting himself love it without reserve. His mother had taught him to play the piano, ever since she had heard him play with one finger a lullaby she sang to him, without help. That in itself was a precious memory, but it was more than that. It was a part of him, something deep within the core of his very essence, giving him an impeccable ear for music, and a mind that never forgot a tune.
One of the things he was most grateful for about his magic was that he could put it towards improving his musical prowess, teaching himself when no one else could… or would.
Sorceresses needed something they enjoy, if only to help them handle the almost unnatural power they held, with or without a knight.
Some hobbies could be as simple and serene as needlework, or art, every stroke of the brush and dip of the needle perfect, and in the right place. Otherwise it could be martial arts, cooking, sports, whatever caught and held the sorceress' fancy and calmed him or her down.
Draco had woken up with one leg thrown over Harry's thighs, his head pillowed on Harry's chest. He had been unspeakably tempted to stay and let the slow heartbeat lull him back to sleep, but he felt a restlessness surging up, ready to hold him prisoner. He didn't really want Harry to be around when he started throwing magic around, just to ease the throbbing noise in the back of his head.
He had gone too long without using his magic.
So he had come into the music room, and had headed straight for the guitar, knowing instinctively that it would soothe.
Each instrument would have a different effect, the slow harmonious things, like the harp, would soothe tempers and ill humors.
Draco was lightly fingering the strings, head bent over the wooden guitar when Harry pushed the door open.
"Good morning sleepyhead." Draco didn't look up, but his voice was teasing and light hearted. Harry grumbled something unintelligible in answer and paused, looking around the room, blinking owlishly behind his glasses.
"What's this? And what's the time?"
Draco looked up then, a friendly, relaxed smile on his face. "Much later than when you usually get up, I'm sure."
Harry shuddered dramatically. "Ugh. I can't stand that wake up bell. I'm glad you don't have it in here."
Draco smirked, eyes glinting as he replied. "Why? Do you plan to spend more nights with me?"
Harry blanched, almost backing to the door as rich embarrassment laced with confusion flooded the link.
Draco laughed silkily and stood up, putting the guitar down where he had been sitting. "It's 12:30, and this is my music room."
Harry eyed Draco suspiciously a few seconds more before returning his gaze to the rest of the room, scanning its contents curiously. "Didn't know you played." Was all he said, however, and Draco felt a twinge of irritation with the gratitude at not having to explain himself.
Harry turned to face Draco, putting the subject of music behind him, determination and stubbornness etched across his face, giving the hint of a battle he was fully prepared to fight. "Draco…" he started, but Draco smiled meekly at him, taking the wind out of his sails, making him lose the advantage of a prepared, strategic battle.
"No, I agree Harry. We won't share a bed again. For a while, anyway."
Harry stared for a second, flustered and unwilling to show how piqued he was at the hint that he wasn't a satisfactory bed partner.
"Why not?" He sounded put out. Harry had obviously wanted the fight.
Draco's lips twitched with appreciation, but he kept a straight face. "Because, O'knight mine, we're both going to be too busy to involve ourselves in sexual play. There'll be enough time for that later. We could, however, continue sleeping together, as long as we only sleep."
Harry spluttered and blushed at the words 'sexual play' but before he could say anything coherent, there was a bold knock at the door.
Draco smirked and gestured, and Harry scowled and opened the door, accepting the logic that he was closer, but disliking Draco's superior grin.
It was, not to their surprise, Rinoa and her knights.
Zell bounded first into the room and picked up a sax lovingly. "Yo, can I borrow this? I left mine at home."
Draco nodded, slightly surprised that he hadn't just asked Rinoa to make him a new one, but he was reluctant to ask, guessing their was a good reason that he should know. He searched for the knowledge quietly, letting Harry ask the questions.
"What are you doing here?" Harry spoke up, his polite tone covering up a little suspicion.
Rinoa smiled at him reassuringly as the first sounds of the sax rang out, filling the air with rich, soothing notes that played out from under Zell's fingers.
"We just came to visit."
Draco eyed her warily. He still didn't trust her completely, what with her own twin wanting to kill him and all, but he knew to reject the friendship she was openly offering could be a fatal mistake.
His father had taught him much about using everyone's help. Of course, the motives might not have been pure all the time, but Draco had trusted his father. Guess where that had gotten all of them Him, the sole remainder of an old, powerful family, and someone wishing to kill him as well. Well, at least the tradition of being murdered seemed to be following the right path.
"And," she continued, her dark eyes alight with excitement. "To tell you that the old gang is on their way."
Harry blinked and asked for Draco, who had scowled, lost in old memories that he was trying his best to forget and had gotten up to go sit at the harp. Then he started to pluck the taut strings so that they resonated with the tune, enhancing the sax that Zell was still playing.
"The old gang?" Harry was trying to ignore the music, but the query came out a whisper, himself loathing to disturb the music or its musicians, and he turned helplessly to watch Draco as he played, transfixed and enchanted by the musical spell Draco was weaving over the vibrating strings.
"You know…" Rinoa whispered back, plainly enjoying the music with half closed eyes, a smile, and a relaxed stance. "Irvine, Selphie and Quistis. They're coming to help. Shush now, let's enjoy it before they get tired of it."
Harry nodded and let himself drop to the floor to sit where he was, content just to listen.
The music soothed the soul. It made him forget everything important, even the truant sorceress, made him focus only on the music, which was echoing through his head, a pleasant, if peculiar sensation. It was what Draco was feeling, and Harry felt more than a little awed by the depths from which Draco played his music.
Draco was playing what he felt, feeling Harry relax and give control completely to the music. It comforted Draco more, and he started a different tune with his other hand, a completely different melody that intensified both the sax and the other tune.
Eventually Zell had to stop, working his mouth muscles with trepidation and wincing at the stiffness there. "Haven't used those particular ones for a while now." Zell glanced reproachfully at Squall, who flushed lightly but stared straight back.
"You were the one who complained."
They laughed, and Rinoa shook her head grinningly, plainly delighted at both of her knights.
"Anyway, we better get going. They're serving hot dogs as a special." Zell grinned, and Harry grinned back. It was hard not to like the impulsive knight.
Zell turned to Draco, who had his eyes closed, still idly running his fingers through the strings, a peaceful look on his face, and Zell changed his mind, not asking what he had wanted to. He laid the sax down carefully and left with the others, winking and grinning at Harry.
Harry continued watching Draco in fascination, letting himself calm, willingly pushing everything to the back of his mind. Everything but the sun, the quiet tune, and Draco.
Draco who was backlighted by the sun beams, dust motes dancing around his shining head like tiny fireflies.
After a while, Draco stopped and sighed through his nose, turning his gaze to the window, squinting in the sunlight. By the sun's angle, he guessed it to be late afternoon, maybe four o'clock.
He wasn't surprised when Harry's hand came between his face and the sunlight, shading his eyes from the glare, and he smiled in thanks, looking at Harry who looked away first.
Draco continued to watch him until Harry cleared his throat nervously.
"Draco, about last night…"
"Mm?"
"I… I think we should do it again." Harry spoke fast, wanting to get it all out quickly, and only half wanting Draco to hear it.
Draco simply stared at him calmly; all traces of restlessness gone, waiting for a reason, not letting his face show anything of what he was feeling.
Harry carried on after it was apparent that Draco wouldn't help him by talking first. "See, that knight was strong, and you said that his bond made him stronger, and if I die, you die, and I don't want that, and he's a strong knight, and I want to be able to hold my own against him if you're busy doing other things." Harry stopped, all but gasping for breath, and Draco smirked, although not unkindly.
"Sit down Harry. We need to talk. We don't know anything about each other, and that's another weakness in the link."
Harry sat down, a bit uncertain about it all, but seemingly willing to talk about it.
Draco took a breath, and was rudely interrupted before he even started by a soft knock on the door.
He gave it a quick glare, but it was obviously unoffended, and the person behind it tentatively knocked again.
Draco gestured for Harry to stay sitting, moving towards the door at the same time.
He opened it before they could knock again, and fixed a cool stare at the unwanted intruders.
"Yes?" even his tone was icy, disencouraging any response, and Hermione's smile faltered before becoming fixed in place.
"Good evening!" she all but chirped, and walked quickly into the room, towing Ron behind her, probably to avoid Draco's shutting the door in their faces.
Harry stood up when he saw whom the guests were, and the happiness on his face convinced Draco that it was, indeed, too late to turn them out, and he begrudgingly shut the door before turning to face the happy group again.
"To what do we owe this dubious pleasure?" Draco chose to ignore Harry's quick scowl.
Ron muttered something that he wouldn't repeat when asked, and Hermione answered instead.
"Well, we came to invite Harry to a pre-SeeD Ball party…"
Draco raised an elegant eyebrow. "Oh?"
Hermione flushed, but didn't say anything.
Ron smirked triumphantly. "No, you're not invited."
Draco smiled a smile that held little, if any humor, and worlds of bitterness. "Why would I want to go to a pitifully pathetic party with you witless mercenaries?"
Ron growled and started forward, but Harry held him back, keeping a watchful eye on Draco's face.
Harry had felt a prickle of pain echoing down the bond, and reacted to it almost automatically.
"Ron, 'Mione, I'll meet you there, goodbye, you can go now!"
He herded them out and shut the door so he could lean back against it.
Watching Draco, who was studiously avoiding his eyes, Harry pondered on how to go about soothing the sorceress.
He knew Draco well enough by know to know that the teenager's pride wouldn't want to accept outright sympathy.
It put a tense layer over every situation.
"Draco?"
"Go on to your party, Harry. We continue our chat at a more convenient time for you some other time, alright?"
"Draco…"
Draco gave him an innocent look. "What? You're not mine, remember? I can hardly stop you. By all means, go, and enjoy yourself."
Harry groaned and went to sit beside Draco. "Like I can enjoy myself now?"
There was a flash of smugness on Draco's behalf, and Harry sat up straighter, half-heartedly punching his shoulder. "You jerk! You pulled that guilt trip on purpose!"
Draco grinned back at him, unabashed. "Would you believe me if I said no?"
Harry smiled back carefully. "Probably not."
Draco sighed in mock distress. "Pity."
Harry just watched him silently until Draco twisted to face him. "What is it, Beaumont? I don't need your pity, so you can keep that to yourself. Save it for Westley."
Harry ignored this, and leant closer, slowly, and Draco's breath snagged in his throat for a second, before he drew in a sharp breath unknowingly.
Harry leant a little closer, his lips inches from Draco's, and Draco had to fight to prevent his eyes from closing, or pushing their lips together first.
"I know you're lonely, Draco. I'm not about to offer you pity. I know you, Draco. Don't pretend with me, it won't do you any good. I know you want to come with me tonight. Don't you?"
Draco, suddenly helplessly enchanted by the depths of the eyes looking into him, could only nod slowly.
Harry continued in a whisper, his voice absurdly loud in Draco's ears. "Draco, if you promise to stop hiding yourself from me, I'll find a way to smuggle you into that party. Deal?"
Draco nodded defenselessly before he knew what he was agreeing to, impatient for the kiss.
Harry pulled away abruptly and stood up. "Well. Now that's settled, lets go, shall we? The party should be starting soon."
He chuckled at the rare bemused, almost bewildered expression on Draco's face and pulled him up.
"Let's go, Draco."
"Hang on. You're still in pajamas. And what about food?"
Harry blushed. "There'll be food there. I suppose I'll have to change, won't I?"
Draco smirked. "Hold it. Here's another reason to enjoy being a knight."
Harry just blinked at him. "Huh?"
Draco shook his head, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling in mock despair before closing them, concentrating for a few seconds.
When he opened them again, Harry was examining his new clothes, strongly reminiscent of official SeeD garb.
"You like them?"
"Yea, they're cool. How'd you do that?"
Draco shrugged. "Dunno. Just can. You'll need your own uniform, by the way."
"Excuse me?"
"You know I have ceremonial clothes?"
Harry grinned, flushing lightly. "Yea. Skimpy."
Draco grinned back, unrepentant. "Well, if you look at Squall, or Zell, or even Seifer, they all have trademark clothes, right? With Squall it's the fur lined short jacket and black leather. With Zell it's those awful shorts. With Seifer, it's the trenchcoat. Get it?"
"So I need some too?"
"Start thinking about it."
"I will."
"Good. Now, don't we have a party to get to?"
Harry smiled a genuine smile that coaxed an answering smile from Draco. "Yea. C'mon, let's go. We'll eat there."
"May I secure a dance?"
Harry laughed. "With me? Believe me, you'll have no competition."
Draco looked over him consideringly, falling behind so he could get a better look. "I don't know. You look rather dashing. Maybe I went a bit over the top with that outfit."
"You talk crap, you know that?"
Draco laughed as he followed Harry, refraining to answer. Whether Harry knew it or not, he did look remarkably good in the outfit Draco had made him.
Draco shot one sly look at Harry's butt, silently vowing to himself that he would get his kiss by the end of that evening. And maybe, if he did it right, Harry would even kiss back.