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The day of the wedding
finally arrived. Harry spent most of the morning helping Ron
to be sick over the washbasin.
"Oh, God . . . I can't do this, Harry. All those people.
. ." His friend keeled over, dry heaving after having already
wretched his entire breakfast.
Harry leaned over, dabbing at Ron's forehead with a damp cloth.
"You're not doing this for the people, Ron. You're doing
this for Hermione. Just remember that."
"Hermione . . .Oh God . . ."
There was a knock at the door, followed by a cheery voice, "Hello?
Ron you in there?"
Harry left his friend and walked to the door, seeing Charlie
there, dressed in full dress regimentals, he smiled. "Hello,
Charlie. Ron's a bit. . . under the weather at the moment."
Charlie grinned, good humor sparkling in his blue eyes. "Been
retching his lungs out all morning, has he?"
Harry laughed, backing away from the door to let Charlie enter.
"He's always been like this. Poor thing." Charlie stood
next to Ron, patting his back softly. "Ever since he was
little. The moment he gets stressed-Whoosh! There goes his breakfast."
"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Ron growled.
"Come on, little brother. It's time for you to get married."
Charlie laughed again.
Ron swallowed, his face so pale that his freckles looked like
dots of fresh paint on a plain canvas, but he stood bravely,
biting his lower lip as he straightened his jacket. "Coming,
Harry?"
"Just let me clean up here. Don't worry, I wouldn't miss
this for the world, my friend." Harry smiled supportively
and Ron attempted to grin back, looking more like he was wincing
in pain.
"Right then, let's go." Charlie let Ron head down the
stairs first, ready to give chase if Ron decided to bolt at the
last second.
Harry smiled as the brotherly banter that followed them down
the stairs and rinsed out the basin before leaving the small
bedroom, trailing behind them.
"Hermione, dearest, you look lovely." Draco's soft
tenor intoned gently. Harry paused on the landing to the second
floor, a familiar voice halting his progress.
Hermione's voice answered, obviously pleased. "Thank you,
Draco. Be a dear and help me fix my hair? These damn curls."
"Yes, dear." Draco's masculine chuckle sent shivers
down Harry's spine. Harry suddenly felt panicked. He wasn't ready
to face Draco yet. He had convinced himself that he could face
Malfoy when he saw him. But hearing him . . . Harry felt his
hard-won resolve disappear.
"Thank you. I am so pleased you could make it. Are mother
and father here as well?"
"Of course. You don't think I'd allow them to miss their
only daughter's wedding, now do you?"
"Thank you so much for accompanying them down. I get so
worried. I mean, they're getting on in years, you know."
"They're perfectly fine, Hermione. Will you relax?"
It was Hermione's turn to chuckle "And how about you? You're
wound tighter than a harp string." Her tone became slightly
more teasing as she continued. "I don't suppose that has
anything to do with a certain Mr. Potter, now does it?"
Harry gasped, his hand gripping the railing tight, not only with
the shock of being mentioned by name, but being mentioned in
such a way. Suddenly his conversation with Miss Granger made
all the more sense. Miss Granger was Malfoy's confidant, and
he had confided in her his opinion of Harry.
Draco laughed, hollowly. "Ah, my dear. I am going to miss
having you as my confessor."
"It'll be all right, Draco, love. He is not as immune to
your charms as you might think."
"Whatever gives you that idea?" Draco seemed genuinely
confused.
"Call it woman's intuition."
"Mmm." Draco paused, his next words spoken in a strained
tone of voice. "God, he's got this hollow at the base of
his throat . . . I just want to cover it in honey and lick it
off, inch by inch..."
Harry could feel his cheeks flush and he closed his eyes against
the suggestible image. The blond's head poised above him, eyes
darkened with desire. His blood pulsed heavily between his ears,
and between his legs. It was the most erotic suggestion Harry
had ever heard. And the fact that it was about him, and Malfoy,
was nearly too much for him to bear. He licked his suddenly dry
lips, praying to any god that would listen to allow Malfoy that
opportunity at some point in the future.
Hermione only chuckled. "Well, how do I look?"
"Like an angel. Ron is getting the better end of the bargain
by half, you know."
"Do go on, Draco. Now, lead me downstairs. And try not to
stare at Mr. Potter too much during the ceremony. You know how
Mummy and Dad feel about your . . . tastes."
"I would never shame you, dear heart."
Harry forced himself to continue down the stairs, not wanting
Draco to know he had eavesdropped. It was already too much to
know Draco's feelings about him went beyond admiration to physical
desire. His own reaction to the image of himself covered in honey
as Draco lapped at his throat was unmistakable, and as much a
shock as it was a relief. As such, he missed Draco's last reply.
"...but Harry is more than just a taste, or a conquest."
He paused, his tone becoming almost sad. "I feel he could
be the very death of me."
~_~_~
Ron, despite his worriedness, went through the ceremony with
confidence, holding Hermione's hand like a lifeline. She was,
as Draco had mentioned, absolutely breathtaking in her bridal
gown. Ron's eyes had goggled for a moment or two and Hermione
smiled, bringing her gloved hand up to gently close her husband's
mouth.
After the ceremony, Harry led the gathered assembly in a toast
to the bride and groom. As Ron and Hermione were inundated by
congratulations, Harry stood off to one side, sipping some sherry.
He felt, rather more than heard, Draco move to stand next to
him. Ever since he had overheard Malfoy's conversation with Hermione,
he had felt Malfoy's eyes on him acutely. Several times during
the ceremony Harry had raised his eyes, only to find Malfoy staring
at him intensely, making Harry flush. He gripped the stem of
his glass tightly as he inclined his head, fighting to make his
voice as controlled as possible.
"Malfoy."
Draco smirked, arching a brow. "Potter."
Harry struggled not to meet Draco's piercing gaze, inclining
his head instead towards the decanter. "Fancy a drink?"
He held up his own glass, surprised it did not tremble.
"As long as it's not tea, thank you." Draco replied
smoothly.
Harry laughed awkwardly, unnerved by Malfoy's confidence but
at the same time, grateful for his ease with social graces.
"Only sherry, I'm afraid."
"Marvelous." Draco took the proffered glass, taking
a long sip and keeping his gaze on the dark haired man.
Harry glanced nervously at Ron and Hermione, lost in their own
world as they fed each other bits of cake. "They look so
happy together, don't they?"
Draco followed his gaze, his eyes narrowing somewhat before he
turned them back to Harry. "Ah. Yes, well, Weasley couldn't
be luckier."
"You sound jealous." Harry sipped lightly, taking in
the deep green of Draco's coat. How the man managed even in the
simplest of garments to look resplendent was beyond Harry. He
felt shabby and underdressed in his own plain coat, indigo long
faded from wear.
"Not hardly, Potter. I merely look after the people who
are important to me." Draco eyed Harry right back, studying
him over the rim of his glass as he took a drink. Potter was
wearing a simple blue coat, but Draco couldn't help noticing
how it clung to his upper body like a second skin, bulging around
formed biceps and broad shoulders. He shivered slightly with
the image of contained power. He remembered being in those arms.
At the moment he would kill to be in them again.
Harry tilted his head, wondering about the implications of Draco's
statement, but not prepared to analyze them. He directed the
conversation instead to a neutral topic."You have yet to
speak to Miss Weasley."
Draco shrugged, content for the moment to follow Harry's lead.
His eyes kept their intensity, however. "There seems little
point in doing so now. She is rather entangled in conversation
with one of the officers." He inclined his head slightly.
"What? Who?" Harry spun around to where Malfoy had
nodded, watching Ginny smile coyly with one of the Regimental
officers he didn't recognize. He frowned.
"Now who's jealous?" Draco's voice was teasing, but
there was a timbre of seriousness within it.
Harry swallowed. "Not
jealous. Relieved." He sighed heavily, cracking a smile.
"Perhaps Ron will cease dropping hints about proposing now."
Draco blinked, relief flowing through his frame as well. He smiled
wryly. "Ah, yes. Marriage. It is, after all, common knowledge
that a single man of good fortune must be in want of a wife."
Harry shared the grin, meeting Draco's gaze with delight. As
their eyes met he flushed, becoming suddenly nervous again and
eager to direct the conversation away from the personal. "My
Godfather escaped." Harry laughed softly, darting his eyes
to the side. "Perhaps I should ask him how. He and
Remus both."
Draco's brow raised again. "Remus?"
"Remus Lupin, my Godfather's friend. He lives with us at
Godric's Hollow."
"I see." Draco seemed suspicious about something, but
Harry pushed that observation aside, continuing.
"They are most particularly attached to one another."
Harry laughed. "I doubt they spend more than a few days
out of each other's company."
Draco arched a brow. "Really? How extraordinary."
"Yes. I always wondered how they could stand being with
each other like that. I mean, Ron's my best friend but even I
get tired of him every now and then."
"Perhaps they are . . . closer . . . than you and Ron are."
Draco's voice was heavy with insinuation.
"That much seems true." Harry frowned, insight dawning
upon him. "Wait, Malfoy-are you suggesting what I think
you're suggesting?"
Draco lowered his eyes to his drink, his voice a dangerous purr.
"Two men, single, living with one another. Close friends,
very attached." The blue gaze lifted to meet his own. "What
do you think I am suggesting, Potter?"
Harry swallowed, blinking in disbelief. "Sirius . . . he
would have told me if that was the case. It can't be."
"Oh, yes. Every godfather wants to tell his impressionable
young godson who happens to be rather good looking with good
prospects that he is a sodomite." Draco's smirk broadened
as Harry paled.
"Oh, God... It all makes sense now." He suddenly felt
like he needed some air, but as he was already outside, he doubted
it would have made any difference.
Draco laughed. "There, there, Potter. No need to cry. Here,
have some more sherry." He refilled Potter's glass, studying
his face intently.
Harry blinked, slightly surprised at Draco's concern. "Thank
you."
"Don't mention it."
Harry sipped at his sherry for a moment before venturing, "About
your letter-"
Draco interrupted quickly. "I would appreciate it if you
wouldn't discuss that at this particular moment."
Harry blinked. "Oh?"
The blond squared his shoulders. "I do have a reputation
to uphold, Potter. But, I will say this. As it is his wedding
day, a day no man should have to look poorly in front of his
wife, I will refrain from my comments towards Weasley."
"How kind of you." Harry answered, dryly.
"I ask something in return, though."
Harry blinked in astonishment. "From me?"
"You don't think I'm going to ask something from Weasley,
do you?" Draco snorted.
"I suppose not." Harry eyed him suspiciously. "What
do you want?"
Draco took a deep breath before responding, seeming to gather
his thoughts. "The Grangers and I are departing tomorrow
for Lambton." He lifted his eyes to meet Harry's. "All
I ask is that you come with us."
Harry gawked. "You want me to go to Lambton?"
"Yes."
Harry studied Draco. "For how long?"
Draco shrugged. "Oh, I dare say a fortnight might be long
enough."
"Why are you asking me this?" Harry frowned, suspicion
creeping in.
"You know, I honestly couldn't tell you." Harry blinked
at such a candid response, but continued frowning.
"Where would I stay? I hardly know the Grangers."
"There is a comfortable enough Inn in town. Though, you
are also welcome as my guest at Malfoy Manor."
Harry considered this, his heart pounded in his chest. As much
as it seemed like a simple contract, he knew it to be much more.
His tongue flicked out, whetting his lips nervously as he returned
Malfoy's gaze. At length, he replied. "Very well, then.
I accept but, you had better keep to your half of the bargain,
Malfoy."
Draco gave a broad grin, "I always keep my word, Potter."
~_~_~
Explaining to Ron exactly why he had agreed to accompany Malfoy
was one of the more difficult moments of Harry's life. After
the reception, he pulled Ron aside in the South parlor.
"But. . . but why, Harry? I know you despise him as much
as I do." Ron's face was aghast.
Harry dared not meet his eyes, keeping them downcast as he responded
somewhat meekly. "He invited me, Ron. You know that to decline
any polite invitation is simply out of the question." Well,
that was what Harry comforted himself with, at least. The true
answer, that he Malfoy's invitation was also a challenge that
he felt compelled to answer, lay buried inside him.
"Of course, but. . . Malfoy?" Ron seemed stuck on that
particular concept. Harry would have found it amusing, had he
not been the one trying to persuade his friend. He knew were
he in Ron's shoes he would find it hard to believe as well. Harry
couldn't explain why he had accepted Malfoy's invitation, nor
why he insisted upon going whether Ron approved or not. Of course,
he would like to know he had Ron's approval just the same.
"It'll only be a fortnight, Ron. It'll be nice for you and
Hermione to have some time alone." Harry continued. "You
know that I love your family but, at the same time, you are my
best friend. It's not going to be the same now that you're a
married man."
Ron smiled somewhat sympathetically, "I do understand that,
mate. It'll be nice to have some time alone with Hermione, but
still-a fortnight with that little wanker! How are you going
to manage not to strangle the ferret?"
Harry laughed, smiling back. "I suppose I shall have to
endure it as best I can." Harry knew that he would have
to endure Malfoy. He would have to endure his looks, his presence,
his eyes. He would have to endure the arrogant smirk upon delicate
features. He would have to endure the knowledge that Malfoy wanted
to do incredibly erotic things to his body, and even more shamefully,
that Harry wanted him to.
"Right you are, Harry. You know what, though? There's one
thing that doesn't make sense." Ron frowned.
"What's that?"
"Why would he invite you in the first place?"
Harry shrugged, looking back down at his hands. "I don't
know." He lifted his eyes to meet Ron's with a determined
gaze. "But, I intend to find out."
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