Pairings in this chapter: Draco/Harry, Ron/Harry
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not getting money. I wish. Ryliatin and the Verifel are mine. Hayaka Minokura is mine. Macabre is mine.
Chapter 22 : Bright And Early For Their Daily Races
When Harry awoke in Fred and George's office, Ron took him back to the Leaky Cauldron to meet with the others. Neither said anything about the incident, but did report of the twins' success. When they sat down for a meal in the Cauldron, Draco stayed true to his word and sat exactly opposite the black haired boy.
They group made it back to the Manor in good spirits. However, before the boys could go on to their leisure activities or homework, Remus nudged Snape's arm and gave him a meaningful look. The other man sighed and looked skyward, as if damning the heavens for what he was about to endure.
"Harry," he said, catching the boy's attention. "Follow me to my study, please."
"Sure," Harry replied, his voice somewhat nervous. Ron gave him a sympathetic look as he followed the Potions Master away.
"Will he be okay?" Ron asked Remus quietly. The wolf smiled and nodded.
"Of course. Don't fret…Now, have you two finished your homework yet?"
Meanwhile, Harry and Snape sat in silence in the study. Neither looked at each other, as they knew that as soon as they did, the Talk would begin. Each understood why they were both there. Finally, Harry could stand it no longer.
"You wanted to talk to me?" he said finally, nervously flitting his eyes up to look at Snape's face. The tall man set folded hands on the desk and stared back.
"Lupin has been hinting that we should speak about the…arrangement."
"That you're my guardian and therefore in charge of my life?" It was suppose to lighten the mood, but neither felt any better.
"In so many words," Snape replied. He paused, then went on. "How do you feel about this?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "It's better than them. Besides, you've been kinda nice lately anyway."
"There comes a time in every man's life when he finds he's made a mistake," said Snape quietly. "That time has come for me. Whether you accept my change of heart or not is your business and I shall not press you either way."
"Thanks," Harry murmured, smiling a little.
"Now then," said Snape as he leaned back in his chair. "I've arranged for your room's contents from the Dursleys to be moved to your room here. It is boxed up so that you made disperse it as you wish. Seeing the state of your clothing, however, I also arranged for new things. Rylia gathered an assortment of muggle and magic clothing and whatever is not to your liking may be sent back immediately."
Harry stared at him in awe. "You…bought me clothes?"
"Is something amiss with that?" murmured the Potions Master with a raised brow, but Harry caught a hint of nervousness in the dark eyes.
"No, no, it's just…" The boy's cheeks flushed. "No one's bought me clothes before. I just got Dudley's hand-me-downs."
Snape nodded. "Well, that is all I wished to speak with you about. You are excused."
Harry got up and gave the man another grin before leaving to see his knew things. Snape watched him go in silence.
"I think you've made the boy's day," drawled a pleased voice. Snape glanced over at the little Verifel, who had been in the corner the whole time. She looked very pleased indeed, her dark eyes reflecting delight.
"Hn."
Rylia laughed softly. "Don't be so nervous, Master Severus… He's fond of you, I can tell."
"We have never had a very…good relationship," replied Snape as he rested his head on his fist.
"Mistakes can be mended," Rylia retorted. She walked up to him and patted his knee. "Don't fret, dear. Harry's a kind child. He's already forgiven you."
Snape nodded and reached over to rustle the Verifel's wavy black hair.
Harry nearly ran to his room. Snape bought him clothing! Clothing! The door slammed into the wall when Harry bounded inside. What he saw made his eyes grow wide with excited awe. The closet doors were open and inside…Harry dashed into the closet, letting his hands grope and touch every bit of fabric within. Cool silks, warm wool, smooth jeans….He could have cried in happiness. Shirts, pants, and robes in different styles and colors filled the space with a warm glow. Harry dragged out a dark green, short-sleeved turtleneck and khaki slacks, putting them on in hurried fascination.
He'd never worn clothing that fit before, other than his school robes. The turtleneck was smooth and cool on his skin, the dark fabric breathing easily to keep his temperature constant. The slacks hugged his hips before falling slightly more baggy on down. He nabbed a belt to hold them snugly. Then, Harry noticed the full length mirror on his closet door. He stared at himself, letting his hands run over the subtle planes of flat chest and stomach. He'd never looked so very…natural before. The shirt made his eyes stand out while the pants almost dulled his paleness. Harry smiled at himself and saw his entire face light up. Another thing caught his eye. The dresser he had used so long sat against the opposite wall. It looked like it had been cleaned and the wood shined brilliantly. Harry approached it and cautiously pulled open a drawer. Inside the three drawers were more new clothes: undergarments, socks, and the very bottom had some of his old clothes that Rylia and Snape had apparently deemed worthy, all of it clean and mended. Harry stepped back from the dresser and looked from it to his closet and back.
He couldn't help it. He squealed.
"You really are a fag, aren't you?"
That drawl was very easy to distinguish. Harry whipped around and glared at the silver haired boy.
"You promised to stay away!" he cried defensively. Draco ignored it, instead letting his eyes wander over the boys form. The pants did well with Harry's coloring and accented his slim hips and waist. The tight shirt showed curve and tone of his upper body, including his nearly anorexic skinniness. That made Draco almost sad, but he ignored it for the moment.
"I didn't come to molest you," Draco said. Then he grinned leeringly. "But I will if you ask…"
"Why would I?" muttered Harry coldly. Draco folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Now leave me alone already. You promised."
"I'm not moving from here, Potter. You're safe from my evil perverseness."
Harry snorted and shut his drawers before moving to close the closet.
"You look good in those."
"Thanks," Harry mumbled. Draco smirked at him.
"I'm serious," he said sweetly. "You're every fag's wet dream."
"Sod off, Malfoy!"
"Oh, do I hear denial talking…?"
Harry glared at him. "You're no better. And for your information, I still like girls."
"Like Granger?" inquired the blonde. Harry looked ill.
"Hermione's like family! It'd be gross to go out wit her."
"Mini-Weasel?"
"Kid sister."
"Chang?"
"Over it."
"Brown?"
"Eh…maybe if I was drunk…"
"Do you realize you've crossed out most of the girls that interact with you at all?"
Harry blinked, then snorted. "I haven't found the right girl yet."
"Or the right boy," retorted Draco. The green eyes glared at him again before Harry stormed over to the doorway and grabbed the knob.
"Good bye, Malfoy," he said - and abruptly slammed the door shut, throwing the blonde back. Draco quickly righted himself and swept his shoulders for invisible dust.
"Denial," muttered Draco.
His eyes snapped open but otherwise, he didn't dare move. He wanted to shutter and cry out, to comfort himself in the throws of tears. But he didn't.
Macabre slithered across the bed. Harry watched the moonlight glint off her little body as she went after a fly. So controlled, so graceful…He wished he could be a snake. Snakes don't have to worry about maniacal wizards plaguing their dreams. He sighed softly and rolled onto his side. Voldemort was dead. Dead, damn it!
"Masssster troubled," murmured Macabre quietly. Harry glanced at her and watched as the small snake moved to him, rolling over the fingers of one hand. "Masssster dream?"
"Yes," he whispered. "He haunted me again."
"Other masssster?"
Harry didn't answer, but Macabre knew.
"Dead," said the snake. She slithered up to lay on his shoulder, head moving to butt up against his cheek. "No moressss…Other masssster don't have power…Dead."
"But he still has power over me…" Macabre seemed to almost sigh as Harry shut his eyes. "He's still there, laughing at me. Taunting me."
"Sssstupid Masssster," replied the snake. "Dead not talk."
"No, I'm just crazy," Harry said bitterly. He lifted Macabre from his shoulder and sat up, gently running his fingers down her back. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
"Masssster issss determined," noted Macabre quietly.
Harry smiled softly at her. "I won't let him destroy me. It would make Ron sad."
"Masssster likessss the Flame one…"
The boy flushed and Macabre did something resembling a laugh.
"Macabre likessss the Flame one." She caressed his hand with her tail. "Kind to Macabre."
"What about the silver one?"
Macabre almost seemed to smile smugly. "Macabre likessss the Ssssilver one too. Nisssse ssssmell…"
"That helps," Harry muttered darkly as the snake laughed at his confusion.
A/N: I, personally, think Macabre is the cutest character I've ever made up. Anyone agree?
I wanted Harry and Snape to get a bit closer in this chapter...and the clothing thing, well...blushes and scratches head He needed a spurge thing and clothing is one thing he's never really had. I wanted to give him that...even if it did make him sound even more like a little gay guy...sighs, having no room to talk
Well, onto the next chap...