Playing House
Disclaimers: Don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, nor am I making any money from these endeavours in writing. Quite honestly I am spending money on doing this when you think about it. Anyway I'm just doing my part to make sure the boys don't get dusty from disuse by JK Rawlings (Kidding! Just don't sue me!)
Author's Notes: This story isn't going to be all that long, maybe two to four parts long, and I am not giving up on The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy, I promise, I am just clearing out some room in my head so I can come up with more of it. As with Hardship this is a Draco's point of view story. I must admit that it is really odd to be able to call Potter by his first name in a story, I rarely ever get to use it in H.o.B.D.M., actually it's kind of nice. Also I never took a Latin class in school, hell, I never had the option of a Latin class. I am, almost, positive if I did have one, I wouldn't have taken Latin, but anyway, please no comments on my slaughtering of that language ok? That bit is all guess work on my part, that and some cutting and pasting.
Description: Future fic. Draco and Harry are together after Hogwarts and the ending of the War, they have left the wizarding world to escape the constant invasion of their privacy, but how will Draco survive in the Muggle world? And can he do it with out hexing everyone into Oblivion? I'm betting that he can't.
Warnings: Some nudity, some slash, a new character or two, (Ok maybe more) Possible OCC-ness, and transplanting the boys to a new place, but don't worry they'll still be themselves when I give them back.
Part 1
Draco Malfoy awoke to a gentle kiss being placed on his lips.
Automatically he threaded his hands though the other person's hair and returned the kiss. He slightly opened his mouth letting his tongue lap at his lover's lips until they parted, allowing entrance. One of Draco's hands moved down from it entanglement to trace his lover's chest through his shirt, before beginning to unbutton it.
His lover pulled back a little, breaking the kiss, before saying "Draco, Love, I have to get going to work."
Draco opened his eyes and continued undoing his lover's shirt buttons, his just woken drowsiness responsible for the fact that he wasn't done with them yet. He raked his gaze over his boyfriends torso, frowning slightly at the suit jacket, as it was one more layer he would have to remove, which also meant there would probably be an undershirt as well. "Stay just a little longer Harry…"
Harry Potter smiled down into the sleepy eyes of his partner, "I would if I could, Love, but I can't. If I stay much longer I'm going to be late on my first day, and that, would not be good."
Draco preformed one of his signature scowls, and rolled over, away from where Harry was leaning over the King sized bed. "So go to work, I'm not stopping you." He groused burying his head under a mound of pillows.
"Love, I'm sorry, but look I'll only be gone for eight hours, I promise with travel time I will be back no later then six-thirty, just promise me one thing, okay?"
Draco briefly pondered not answering, and pretending he had gone back to sleep, but that would mean no more kisses till Harry came back, and that was completely unacceptable. He pulled his head out from under the pillows and pushed himself onto his hands and knees, arching his back like a cat as he stretched leisurely. The covers slid off his frame, and he smiled at the small intake of breath that came from Harry's direction. He crawled over to the side of the bed smiling wickedly at Harry's slightly flushed face, not really giving a damn that he was completely naked, it wasn't like anyone else could see him. Besides he enjoyed teasing Harry, it was one of his most favourite things to do.
Draco sat back on his heels and crossed his arms over his chest, enjoying the slight twitchy movements Harry was making with his hands, which meant he was having a hard time restraining himself from touching his lover. "What did you want me to promise you Potter?" He wasn't sure why but every now and again, Draco loved calling his lover by his last name. Especially when teasing him. If he had to guess, he would probably say it was because it brought forth memories of a time when they could look but not touch, that and depending on how he said it, it let his lover know when he was really upset with him.
Harry dragged his roaming eyes back up to Draco's face, and he swallowed dryly. "Promise me you wont go anywhere till I get back."
Draco scowled darkly at the man he had given everything up for. "Look Potter, just because we aren't about in the wizarding world anymore, doesn't mean…"
"Draco it is a lot different out their then either you, or I, am used to, remember we're not only amongst muggles, but it's a whole new country out their. You're just don't know enough about either one yet to try and tackle it all on your own." Harry glanced at the digital clock on the night stand and winced at the time, before looking back to his now pouting lover. "I'm sorry love, I have to go, just promise me you won't venture out on your own."
Draco's lower lip jutted further out in a pout as his brows furrowed together. "Fine," he muttered lowly.
Harry smiled brightly, catching the other boy's face in-between his hands, before pulling him into a deep kiss. "I'll make it up to you Love, I promise." And with that he was out of the Bedroom and on his way to his new job, working at the State Disbursement Unit division of the State of Nebraska's Treasurer's Office.
Draco for his part remained on the bed, pouting for a good twenty minutes before the need to go to the bathroom became to hard to ignore. As Draco relieved himself, he again wondered how it was, that Harry had talked him in to not only leaving the wizarding world, but moving to, of all places, America. It must have been the sex. Damn Potter anyway for knowing his weaknesses. Damn him for enjoying Draco's weaknesses so much, as to keep doing them till he caved in. Oh the things his Beloved Scarhead could do with his tongue, it should be illegal! Either that or a law should be passed to make it mandatory that he do it more often.
He had made some sense when he stated it would be easier to loose themselves in a country of 280 million as compared to 58 million. But he still didn't have to like it. Draco started the water for a hot shower as he continued to fume. They had been in America for a week, ordering Chinese delivery, and straightening and organizing the different rooms of their house. Harry had applied for, and gotten a job over the intranet, on something called a cunputer, but they had decided that Draco would stay home at least until he had the hang of most things muggle.
As he stood under the pounding, steamy spray, he longed for the one bedroom flat the two of them had shared for the first two years they spent together, without having to sneak around faculty, and classmates. Sure it had been tiny, but Draco grew to consider it to be, more intimate, plus the fact it was interconnected with the wizarding world. But now they were living in a two story house with three bedrooms, a finished basement, an attic, and a whole bunch of crap that was left in the house by the previous owner. He really didn't want to know, nor did he care why, it had been left behind.
They had decided they weren't going to be leaving the wizarding world for good, but just until most of the hullabaloo died down, which would probably be in a few years. They had left notes for Harry's family of friends, explaining why they were leaving, with an impassioned plea not to be searched for. That had been an exceptionally had time for Draco, being as he had no one to inform of his absence. His father had been killed in a second storming of Azkaban a month before the Dark Lord had been killed, the very raid that was supposed to free Lucius in fact. His mother had gone mad from one to many unforgivable curses being cast on her by a rogue band of wizards. They had aligned themselves with the light, but really their methods were no better then the Deatheaters, when it came right down to it.
His friends from school were all either dead or locked up, and while he tolerated Harry's friends, he had never really been friends with them. Unfortunately Harry still didn't understand everything Draco had given up to be with him. Power, money, prestige, friends, admirers, respect, these were things he had in spades before he had fallen in love with the Boy Who Lived.
They had hidden their blossoming attraction, and growing closeness, from the school for two years, then upon leaving, Draco had left everything he had been groomed for since birth. Granted the decision wasn't as easy as it might seem, it had taken months of agonising on Draco's part, encouragement on Harry's, and an argument or three that had almost cost them both their fledgling love.
In the end however Draco had chosen Harry, helped him train in the Dark Arts, showed him how the strategists of the Deatheater's (or rather his father and Voldemort) thought. Explained everything Draco had been trained to do when he was to take over the coveted position of being Voldemort's most trusted follower, which was to have happened right after he killed Pettigrew. The information he gave, added to the small amount which Dumbledore's spy network gathered, proved to be invaluable in turning the tide of the war.
Draco had, however, flatly refused to fight. He offered up any other skill he had, save for going into battle, he knew that despite everything he had done for the Order of the Phoenix, their were still people on the side of the light who would gleefully kill him, and he wasn't going to take that chance. Instead he researched old and obscured spells, looking for some way he could help Harry, then he found it. The Universus Potestas Munus spell, or the gift of combined power. It was an extremely complex spell involving potion components mixed with powerful charms and more then a hint of Dark Arts to complete. It also required a participant who was willing to take part in the spell, actually one could use someone who at the very least wasn't unwilling (like say if they were in a unconscious) but the majority of the transferred power would be lost before it got to the destination, just in keeping the spell intact.
The day before what would become to be known as the Hogsmead rebellion, or the final battle of the war, Draco had almost finished the spell. All that was left was one more incantation and to drink the potion, but to do that their was one special requirement that had to be fulfilled. He had to be covered in Harry's bodily fluids. In his younger days, he would have automatically assumed that this meant he had to get Harry's blood all over himself, but now, he thought of a much more pleasant way of achieving the desired results.
As soon as Harry had arrived home from the up coming battle's strategy meeting, so he could get some rest before going off to fight, a naked Draco jumped him. Harry had found himself pressed back against a wall of their small flat, his mouth practically being devoured by his boyfriend. Anxious, knowing, hands removing his cloths and skittering over his most sensitive areas. The only thing Harry could do was to submit, allot, several times in fact, to Draco's attentions, heck he was hard pressed to leave when the time came for gathering for the attack. Harry had just chalked it up to Draco being worried for his boyfriend's safety.
Draco had lay in bed for a few moments, blissfully happy as cum, sweat, saliva, and the occasional tear of ecstasy from his boyfriend dried on his skin. From their it was only a short incantation, and a foul tasting potion to put the spell to work.
And work it did, Harry was just facing off against Voldemort in their usual taunting and clash of powers match, when the Dark Lord had made a comment something to the effect of wondering what that sent Harry was wearing was. For his part the Boy Who Lived had been highly embarrassed about going into battle smelling like sex as he had been running very late thanks to his boyfriends eagerness, and had automatically cast the first curse that came to his mind. In this instance it was the Killing curse. He had almost finished casting it, when Draco's power had hit him. Harry had been awash with dizziness, and a slight feeling of nausea but had managed to finish intoning the curse, feeling the majority of the odd power pass through him and into the green bolt zipping towards Voldemort.
So strong was this curse that it not only killed Voldemort when it hit him, but it also destroyed his soul, vaporised his body, and killed the small group of Deatheaters flanking the Dark Lord. A harsh wind blew outwards from where the small group had been standing, as if the very air had exploded, and a deafening silence had descended on the field.
Harry had fallen to his knees, clutching at his chest, his eyes glazed and staring at nothing, as what remained of the foreign power seemed to tighten briefly around his heart before dissipating and being absorbed into his body. Harry moaned as if in pain, not understanding why that tightening had felt like a hug, why it had felt so very familiar, and why he was so upset to loose the feeling of that strange magic, as it now couldn't be distinguished from the rest of his natural power.
At the disintegration of Voldemort, most of his followers ran, the few really intelligent ones stood their ground and began blinking in confusion as if coming out from being under the imperious curse. Then their was the occasional nutcase that fell to the ground screaming and carrying on about the agony they felt at the death of their lord. Ron and Hermione had run to Harry's side, wrapping their arms around their now sobbing friend. They spoke comforting words to the boy in their arms, reassuring him that everything was fine and that the war was now over. Hermione stroked his hair, and told him he was free of the pressing demands that being the boy who would kill Voldemort had brought him. That now he and Draco could live without the constant threat of death looming over Harry's head.
At the mention of his lover's name, Harry struggled out of their arms, and got to his feet. It had finally clicked in his head, something had to be wrong with Draco. He breathed his lover's name before apparating straight to their flat. He found Draco, still naked, laying on the floor of their bedroom, in front of their dresser. A goblet and his wand both laying near him, and on top of the dresser were the words of a spell.
Harry dropped to the ground gathering his love up in his arms and cradling him close. Draco's body was chilled and limp, only a slight raspy noise proclaimed that the boy was still, even if barely, breathing.
When Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, Snape and Lupin had arrived at the boy's place they found Harry still on the floor rocking back and forth, and crying blindly, as he held Draco, rubbing his lover's arm with his hands. Occasionally saying something vaguely coherent like, 'Got to stay warm, always hated the cold.'
It took Dumbledore, Ron, and Lupin the better part of an hour to try and convince Harry that Draco would be better off in a nice warm bed at St. Mungo's hospital, rather then the apartment. Eventually, they managed to get him to agree to, at the very least, let him go to Hogwarts' infirmary, and the only reason Harry had agreed on that was he had been promised that he could stay with his love the entire time. Ron took it upon himself to pack a small bag with some things for Harry, as no one knew how long it would be before Draco awoke, and he figured if Harry needed something they could always come back for it. Snape and Hermione had found the goblet and words of the spell (respectively) and were beginning the thought processes and discussions necessary for working together on trying to find out what spell this was from, and how to fix it.
Draco remained in a coma for the better part of two months. Of which time he couldn't find anyone willing to talk about what went on. The only thing he knew was that everyone said Harry had not left his side for more then ten minutes at a time. Ron and Lupin had taken the task of making sure Harry took care of himself, to be their personal mission in life, and somehow Hermione and Snape had wound up as a couple due to the close work they went through trying to fix the, and this was a direct quote, 'stupid mess, that idiotic Godson of mine, got himself into.' Which, amazingly enough, was a phrase that Severus Snape had managed to find several opportune times to say quite loudly, and in the presence of large groups of people.
Draco shut the water off, and shook his head fiercely, flinging water droplets everywhere as he stepped out of the shower. Two towels were employed, one to dry his hair and the other to drape loosely around his waist. He sauntered lethargically back into his bland cream coloured bedroom. It had only been four months since Draco had awoke, in the middle of the night, dazed and confused, with his boyfriend curled around him asleep. Snape and Hermione had, earlier that day, administered what they hopped would be an antidote of sorts, or at the very least something that would wake Draco up. The last time he had seen either of them, they still weren't sure if Draco had woken on his own, or if it was a delayed reaction to their efforts.
Regardless, Draco's powers had been merged for so long with Harry's that it was impossible for them to be separated. Draco had been tormented with the possibility that he would spend the rest of his life as a squib. As Snape had so delicately put it "What did you think you were doing with a spell that gives your powers to someone? Letting them go on a short leave of absence?" Draco had flushed in anger and kept silent, which had told Snape loud and clear, yes, that is what he thought.
It was a few weeks later when Draco's fears and anger got the better of him, and he, for lack of a better word, snapped, for a little bit. It was the first time he had been home in months, hell it was the first time anyone had been back to the flat since the day of the final battle. Harry and Draco had taken a portkey home, and Draco had frowned at the sight of dust all over the surfaces of the flat. He walked into the bedroom and dropped off their bag of cloths that had been taken to Hogwarts, and their on the floor was his wand, still where he had dropped it, what seemed to him, not so very long ago.
He had picked it up and absently chanted Cubiculum Tersus. Of course nothing had happened, and that was precisely what had set him off. Draco had thrown a fit of amazing proportions, quite effectively wrecking the room, as he threw pillows, overturned nightstands, and ripped pictures and curtains off the wall. Harry had come in trying to calm Draco down, but the moment he had touched the outraged boy, Draco had shoved him away, thrown the useless wand out the bedroom door, and in a completely surprising move, shattered all the glass and ceramic items in the room, in a fit of wild magic. After which he collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, as though he had just run a marathon in record time.
Harry stood amongst the broken glass amazingly unhurt by the items that had exploded around him, one hand on his chest pressing over his heart, and a confused expression on his face. He had felt a strange tugging, not unlike the sensations he associated with a portkey, only more around the region of his heart.
It took a little bit to figure out what had happened, but apparently Draco was capable of drawing from and using Harry's magic, and though he could no longer use a wand for casting, as it interfered with the flow of energies. He was getting better at casting small spells without completely exhausting himself. Strangely enough it never seemed to bother Harry, save for the odd feeling.
Hermione had used some silly analogy to explain what she meant. Something about Harry was the source of the power and could be likened to a Spring or river, for all intents and purposes a never ending supply. Draco on the other hand was drawing magic from Harry, to use the water comparison, he was like a water pump, more precisely he was like a water pump on the top of a hill. An old rusty water pump, still usable, but not without a great deal of effort, at the top of a fairly tall hill, some distance from the supply of water.
Draco had kept his wand, though now useless, due to an emotional attachment. It was now sitting in a glass box, on the mantle of a fake fireplace. It was shortly after they found out that Draco was sharing Harry's powers that Harry had asked Draco if he would move with him to the muggle word. As with the last big decision Draco had to make, this one was not easy, and involved a few arguments on both boy's part. But as before Draco had eventually come around to Harry's way of thinking, and so they moved.
Draco riffled through Harry's wardrobe, searching for something to wear. All of his own cloths were far more dressy then lounging around the house demanded. So he was just going to steal some of his boyfriends. He pulled out a black T-shirt emblazoned with the phrase 'Mean People Suck, Nice People Swallow.' and a pair of faded Jeans. Both items were too big for his thin frame, but the jeans made up for that in being too short. He had yet to get used to the whole underwear thing Harry was always on about. His boyfriend was continually buying Draco novelty boxer shorts, and giving them as gifts, but the only time they had ever been used was when Draco would decide to wear a pair with a provocative phrase printed on it, to bed. And they never stayed on for more then an hour anyway. But Harry had bought every pair especially for him so he would make an effort to wear them for his boyfriend every now and again.
Draco stretched lazily, enjoying the tactile feeling of the clothing shifting against his skin, before shoving his slightly damp hair out of his face, he figured that he could gel it back into place a little later, probably after he had breakfast. That was one thing that Draco had not given into for Harry. His boyfriend always seemed to be making sly (for him at least) comment about how great Draco's hair looked when it was loose and flopping around his face in an annoying way, and how he loved running his fingers through the soft silken strands when it hadn't been crusted to his head by four tons of gel. However slicked back was the hairstyle that Draco liked and despite the commentary from the one person that he loved the most in the whole world, this was something he wasn't going to give in on.
Draco paused in the doorway of the kitchen, still slightly uneasy about all of the muggle devices contained therein. No other room in the house was quite so packed with strange gadgets, and even though Harry had described, demonstrated and had Draco try each Item out for himself, the sight of all the shiny metal and plugs, gave Draco a creepy feeling. He entered the room, his bare feet chilled by the linoleum floor, and crossed to the refrigerator. He frowned thoughtfully at the contents revealed upon opening the door, a can of coffee, a loaf of wonder bread, a carton of Yum-Yum Chicken from last nights dinner, and a pitcher of water that had it's own built in filter.
He thought for a moment, before deciding that the Chicken should really be saved for lunch, and reaching for the bread. He was going to have to get used to the toaster sooner or later, and he couldn't have Harry around 24/7 until he was completely comfortable with the muggle things. He set the plastic bag of sliced bread on the counter in front of the brightly polished surface of the toaster. Harry had called the thing a genuine replica of a sixties style toaster, which had translated to Draco as not being worth the money that was spent on the thing, but Harry had really liked it.
The blond removed the twist tie from the back and pulled out two slices of the soft, almost spongy bread, shaking his head slightly. Muggle bread was almost substance less, when compared to the thick heavy breads he was used to, and it tasted so bland. He popped the bread into the slots of the machine and pushed the leaver down, before walking back to the fridge and removing the water. Draco set it down on the ancient rickety table that had probably been built by an incompetent craftsman before the invention of decent tools. And was yet again amazed that it was still standing. He wasn't surprised that it had come with the house, what had surprised him was Harry's insistence that they keep it.
Oddly enough Harry had insisted on keeping most of the contents of the house, most of which was still in use, the rest was now packed into the basement and the attic. It was unfortunate that they had decided to leave most of their possessions behind in England, but they had Dobby looking after it inside Malfoy Manor, and was protecting it with his life, for fear of facing Harry Potter's extreme disappointment.
The toast popped up, causing Draco to grumble slightly, he was going to have to have Harry show him how to work this thing again. Reluctantly he chewed on the too dark bread and wandered to the living room, Draco had, for better or worse, discovered the television. To make matters worse Harry had gotten cable, and with that came a discovery of a favourite show. On what Harry called the channel guide it was on the number labelled Nogg, and was an animated cartoon, all about a girl in high school. Draco couldn't for the life of him ever remember her name, it began with a D and was really odd sounding, but she had a very dry witty sense of humour, and Draco had been hooked from the first time she had opened her mouth and made some sarcastic remark to her artist friend.
It never seemed to be on when he wanted it to be, save for late at night, but maybe he would be lucky today. He settled on the couch after picking up the multi-function remote, and pressed the 'on' button. Nothing happened.
Draco pressed the button again, and again nothing happened. He then proceeded to do everything he could to fix the remote. Which consisted of shaking it, hitting it, pressing the buttons with varying pressures, and finally when nothing else worked throwing the thing at the television. Thankfully he missed the screen and instead watched as it ricocheted off a corner and knocked over the set of fire stroking implements that came with the fake fireplace. All in all, it made a very satisfying clanking noise when it fell.
He shoved the remainder of his toast in his mouth, and wondered what he was supposed to do to occupy himself while Harry was gone. He supposed he could go back to bed and think of all kinds of fun things to do with Harry when he gets home, but then he would be too tired to do any of those fun things with him. So that was out. He stood from the couch and wandered around the room, idlely looking at a bookshelf for some interesting reading, when he heard a bell chime.
It was the doorbell. Draco walked casually to the entry way and opened the door. Their standing on his front porch was a woman in her thirty's with long, wavy, brassy looking, reddish brown hair. She had a rumpled looking t-shirt on with faded jeans, that were frayed towards the bottom, a pair of holy canvas sneakers, and she had a large dish in her hands. "Hi welcome to the neighbourhood!" She said in a far to cheerful voice.
Draco managed to put a smile on his face, and he was pretty sure it didn't look too pained, as he regarded the muggle on the other side of the screen door. It was going to be a long day.
