Thief is Such a Harsh Word, Harry
This chapter picks up from exactly where the last one finished. And as usual sorry about the lateness, holidays went faster than I had planned and this chapter took longer than I planned. Just a whole lot of poor planning skills on my behalf.
-CHAPTER SIX-
"George, you owe me a fiver!"
The front door slammed shut.
Harry closed his eyes in frustration. Draco looked at the ceiling in annoyance. Fred shook his head at Ron's timing.
"He's not here," he yelled out whilst rolling up the map and shoving it into the desk's drawer.
"Where is he?' called Ron.
"Ah…" Fred tried to think fast, casting his eyes around the room for inspiration.
"Reporting your theft," Draco suggested with a slightly bored expression on his face.
Fred grinned. "He's gone to report your theft."
He mouthed thanks to Draco.
"I thought you guys said that was pointless." Ron's voice was coming closer as he tried to pinpoint the room in which Fred's was coming from.
"Did you really?" grinned Draco, suddenly developing interest in the conversation.
"Don't let it go to your head," Fred muttered. He raised his voice, "Well, it was a lot of money. We thought about it and figured we probably should report it."
"So there's hope they'll get the bastard," said Ron. He was clearly in the next room, still searching for Fred.
Draco leapt from his seat on the desk. Harry reacted quickly and grabbed Draco's arm. The blond stopped and leant back against the desk, glaring at then door. "He deserved it, the snotty prat," he growled under his breath.
Fred turned to see Harry holding the thief back and was suddenly hit with alarm.
"Get him out of here," he whispered urgently.
Draco opened his mouth to protest. Seeing Ron's reaction to finding him in his brothers' house would have been priceless, but Harry was already walking down a small flight of stairs in the corner of the room Draco hadn't noticed earlier.
"You know Ron, maybe if you wish hard enough they will get him," Fred winked at Draco as he walked from the room.
"I'll be with you in a second Ron, just got to get something.
"My money I hope," Draco heard Ron say.
"Not until you prove it. Until then we're giving you zilch."
"How the hell am I supposed to prove it?"
Ron sounded flustered at the thought. Harry smiled to himself.
"You'll have to figure that one out by yourself. I'll meet you in the lounge."
Fred reappeared in the study. "Malfoy," he whispered.
Both Draco and Harry turned, Harry from the bottom stair, Draco second from the top.
"I couldn't bear the thought of you having to walk in the rain." The twin tossed a black umbrella to the thief who caught it with a scowl on his face.
Fred laughed and exited.
Draco covered the last few steps and stopped at the landing next to Harry.
"After you," the brunet smiled opening the door.
Draco put up the umbrella as he stepped out into the downpour. He observed his surroundings and found they had come out into a small alleyway.
"Very convenient," he said with admiration to the twins' choice of home.
Harry pulled the door shut behind them and joined Draco under the umbrella. "I can walk in the rain if you want. It's not that heavy, if you don't want to share that is." Harry made to step out from under the shelter.
Draco grabbed his arm, "Don't be stupid. It's big enough to cover us both, that is of course if you don't mind standing close." He cast a curious glance at Harry.
Harry smiled slowly, "Of course not." Harry stood as close to Draco as he could without touching him. He didn't want to make the thief feel uncomfortable and make him regret his decision to let him come under the umbrella.
Draco noticed the distance Harry was putting between them but decided not to push it. He must have misread Harry's smile. Instead the blond went out of his way to keep the distance between them constant. Although, he found it somewhat disappointing that Harry was going out of his way to avoid contact. Perhaps Harry found the idea of even barely touching another man wrong. Draco was sure that couldn't be the case, Harry seemed like someone different to that, someone like him. Draco looked at the gap between them once more and sighed in his head, obviously not, but none the less, this was not going to stop him from trying to make it so.
"Where're we headed?" asked Harry.
Draco smiled at Harry's clear reference to 'we'.
"No idea. Probably would have better if Weasley had thought to give us two umbrellas."
"I don't need it, if you want to take it," Harry said again.
"And I'll say again, that's stupid. You'll get sick, die, and leave someone somewhere devastated and heartbroken."
"I think not," Harry laughed though he noticed the left side of his body was still getting quite wet and rather cold. Forget making the thief feel uncomfortable, he was the upper-class man here, if Draco didn't like it so be it. Harry stepped further under the umbrella.
"So," said Draco trying not to sound too happy, no, happiness wasn't the feeling which swept through him as Harry closed the small distance between them, it was more a combination of pleasure and delight. A sudden yearning seized him, a desire to reach an arm around the brunet and draw him in even closer. He swallowed and pushed the idea away; it was neither the time nor the place. "Good question, where are we headed?"
They looked out along the practically deserted street the laneway had opened up into. Few people dared venture from their homes in such weather, and those who did didn't seem to be planning to stay out in it long. The occasional carriage saw the driver huddled in his coat and top hat trying to stay as dry as was possible when sitting on top the coach.
"Perhaps you take the umbrella and I'll get a carriage home," suggested Harry, he looked over at Draco.
"Or better yet," Draco passed Harry the umbrella. Harry watched as he stepped out into the rain, pulling his coat collar up as he did to shield his face as best he could from the icy winds and water. Draco held out a hand and a carriage came trotting to a halt next to them. He leapt up onto the step up to the door and told something to the driver. The driver gave a nod and Draco looked at Harry shivering under the umbrella with a grin. He hopped back down onto the cobblestones and pulled the carriage door open, and on the spur of the moment, stooped into a low bow as he did so.
Harry shook his head in amusement, put the umbrella down and climbed into the carriage. He sighed in content as the dry, warm air inside the carriage swept over him.
Draco climbed in after him, shutting the door and flopping down on the seat opposite.
Harry frowned, "I thought thieves weren't able to take carriages."
The blond shrugged as he ran his fingers through his wet hair, giving it a gelled back look. "I need to build up my risk taking reputation. Prove I'm not all walking in unlocked doors."
"But wouldn't the driver have your description from the police? From what I've heard from the twins they seem pretty desperate to catch you."
Draco grinned as he pulled his wet coat off, he liked how Harry had phrased that- poor desperate authorities weren't even capable of catching a nineteen year old. "I doubt it. I mean, are the police really going to think London's thieving community are taking carriages around the place?"
"Put that way, probably not. But here we are."
"It's not something we do often. Take me for example. I haven't been in a carriage since…" Draco looked thoughtfully around the inside of the carriage.
Harry watched as Draco's thoughtful appearance changed dramatically and his face seemed to cast into shadows as he turned away from Harry and looked out the window, his expression grave. "Since mother…" he said slowly and faltered, still watching the rain pelt against the window. He cleared his throat and looked back at Harry, "Since I was twelve."
He forced a fake smile before looking back to the window again, but Harry knew the smile too well. He knew what it meant, what it was covering, it was a smile he caught himself wearing a lot when a certain subject came up.
Harry was impressed by how quickly the thief composed himself. Draco looked back after a few seconds, a firm smile plastered on his face. It looked more genuine but again Harry knew you could never be sure, enough practice had let him easily master that particular smile. It was one he would flash when people got too persistent and found the first smile unbelievable. 'Are you sure you're fine?' 'Yes, of course' the first smile would appear. Most would smile sympathetically and leave the subject, perhaps utter a comment of 'poor dear, puts on such a brave face after all that's happened', but there were a select few, who refused to be convinced, 'Are you really sure you're okay?' The second smile would appear with a stronger 'Yes' and they would be won over instantly.
By the looks of things Draco had definitely mastered the second smile. Harry's heart went out to him; the smile had confirmed his thoughts, for Harry had found over the years that only those who had lost someone close to them, extremely close to them, could produce it.
Draco's body flooded with relief as Harry smiled back. For a second he'd thought the brunet had picked up on his comment about his mother. It wouldn't have been hard to figure out the rest from there. But Harry hadn't bombarded him with questions so he mustn't have worked it out. He decided not to dwell on the thoughts. It wasn't exactly a subject he was fond of.
"Why did George owe Ron a fiver?" he asked genuinely curious but also glad to change the topic.
Harry smiled disdainfully. "He and Ron had a bet." He followed the blonde's earlier behaviour and looked out the window.
Draco wasn't satisfied. "I gathered, but what were they betting on?"
Harry sighed, "Ron went out last night with a girl, Hermione."
"Auburn dress, hair in a bun?" Draco remembered out loud.
"Yes," said Harry slowly giving Draco a look of 'how the hell did you know that?'.
"Shouldn't have interrupted. Go on," Draco said skirting the look.
"George bet Ron five pounds he wouldn't get a kiss," Harry said bitterly.
Draco was intrigued by Harry's tone. Was he detecting a hint of jealousy? No, he thought studying Harry subtly, there wasn't jealousy in those eyes and why should there be, for as far as he could tell Harry Potter was a …man's man. Unless of course he wasn't jealous of Ron getting Hermione, but the other way round. Draco shuddered at the thought. He wasn't going to go there.
"So that's why he sounded distressed when Fred told him he had to prove it," Draco said.
Harry nodded, smiling despite himself. "Because the only way for him to prove something like that would mean George asking Hermione and you've no idea how Hermione would react if she knew he was betting on that kind of thing."
"Sounds like he's just going to have to stay penniless. Unless I feel the sudden urge to right my wrong and give his money back. Though the chances of that happening seem highly unlikely."
"He doesn't need it," Harry said quietly, "his family aren't exactly rolling in it but they're far from impoverished."
"Harry," Draco said softly.
The green eyes flicked up.
"I'm getting the feeling you and Ron aren't exactly the greatest of friends, is that right or am I completely off the mark?"
The eyes looked away to the window and Draco could see the rain and the street going by reflected in the panes of the young man's glasses.
"This is my house," Harry said firmly closing the discussion before it began. He rose from his seat as the carriage began to slow down.
The carriage came to a standstill and Harry threw the door open. Draco picked the umbrella off the floor and draped his coat over his arm, following Harry out into the rain. "Obviously not something you want to talk about," he muttered under his breath.
The rain had mellowed down to a light sprinkle so Draco didn't bother with the umbrella. He pulled out the money for the fare but Harry had beaten him to it, with a sigh, he folded the money back up and placed it back inside his breast pocket. It seemed there as no beating an upper-classer when money was involved.
Harry turned to face Draco questioningly.
"We have to prepare for your lesson," the blond said.
Harry nodded, "Right. Then let's get inside."
He led the way up the path to the doorstep and unlocked the door. Draco's eyes widened as the door swung open and he was hit with the thought of whether the royal family knew this place existed, obviously not otherwise Harry wouldn't have been living here as the crown would've claimed it as their own.
Harry walked calmly in trying not to laugh at Draco's reaction to his home. He'd been in shock too when he'd first entered it after arriving home from boarding school. He had chosen to live in London in his final year. He'd been given the option of that or his parents' Scottish estate and the answer seemed obvious, who in their right mind would choose to live in the home where their parents had been murdered? That fact aside, the place held too many memories, not just of the murder but of everything before that, even of Sirius. So naturally he had chosen London. His parents had left everything in his name and with that came their London home. He'd never stepped foot in it in his life as he'd lived in Scotland for all his childhood, but the place had sounded quaint and somewhere where he'd feel comfortable. He'd been expecting nothing of this calibre.
Draco looked around. He got the feeling if he strayed too far from Harry he'd find himself completely lost. The sound of their feet echoed around the entrance hall as they walked past a cabinet filled with assortment of carefully placed and polished silverware. It was the kind of place that reminded Draco of an art gallery or museum. His mother had taken him to a few when he was little and he had found then highly unnerving. He walked around them with the fear that if he made a noise or touched anything, even by accident, a guard would appear and say in a loud enough voice that everyone would turn around nosily to listen, 'excuse me son, but would you mind coming with me, you clearly do not belong in a place like this.' He was filled with the same feeling in Harry's house, one wrong move and he would be chucked out.
"Here," said Harry, taking the umbrella from the thief and dumping it unceremoniously on the floor next to the cabinet. Seeing the umbrella land with a thud that sent water spraying up onto the glass door and a large puddle of water slowly appear around the brolly, made Draco relax. The atmosphere giving him the feeling he had to be on his best behaviour dropped immediately.
Harry led him into the lounge and took his coat, draping it over the back of a chair and removing his own. He knelt down in front of the fireplace and picked up a box of matches.
"I would've thought the servants would have the fire roaring away long before you got home," said Draco watching Harry light some of the pieces of wood already in the fireplace.
The brunet looked over his shoulder with a grin, "They don't work today," he said matter-of-factly.
Draco was thrown off, "I wasn't serious," he muttered.
Harry got up and dusted his hands off on his pants. One look at Draco's expression and he couldn't contain himself. "Neither was I," he laughed.
"That's not funny. It's cruel to use my lack of knowledge to your advantage," the thief said sulkily, crossing arms.
The sight made Harry wonder how someone acting so childish could stay looking so handsome. He wondered if the thief knew how good-looking he was. Harry mentally slapped himself. How could Draco not know? He was probably reminded of it everyday by the lover he would no doubt have. Harry's thoughts were broken by Draco's voice.
"Well then," the thief's eyes lit slyly as he looked back at Harry. "I guess I can use your lack of knowledge to my advantage tomorrow."
Draco chuckled as Harry's eyes widened in shock, "No," he whispered shaking his head. "No, you wouldn't. You can't."
"We'll have to wait and see," Draco smirked.
"You bastard," Harry muttered.
"Now, now Potter, there's no need for that kind of language." The thief's laugh was cut off as he ducked a playful swipe from the aristocrat. "Ok," he said with a grin. "Fine. No using anyone's knowledge to your advantage. Agreed?" He held out a hand.
"Agreed." Harry said taking Draco's hand.
The pair looked down at the other's hand in their own. Tension gripped the air as both realised they were holding hands far longer than was needed in a regular handshake, yet neither seemed to want to let go. Finally Harry pulled his arm back and turned away from Draco to face the fire.
Draco let his arm drop slowly, the feeling of Harry's skin on his own still lingering.
Harry cleared his throat, "Ah, wh…what is this pre-lesson thing?"
"Right," said Draco, snapping back to reality. "Where's your bedroom?"
"Sorry?" asked Harry turning around in shock.
Draco cringed at how badly had come out. "Let me try that again. I assume you keep your clothes in your bedroom."
Harry nodded.
"Well, in preparation for your lesson I figure we can't have you turning up looking like that," he nodded at what Harry was wearing.
"What's wrong with this?" Harry asked testily.
Draco shook his head; "There's nothing wrong with it. It's just you're going to stand out a fair bit wearing the best clothes money can buy when you're surrounded by lower-classers."
"Right," said Harry catching on. He walked past Draco, out into the hall and up the stairs. "I'm not sure if I'm going to have anything that'll work," he said over his shoulder.
"I'll find something, I assure you," Draco said looking at all the pictures on the wall of the Potters through the centuries. Around the corner from the top of the stairs were the late Lily and James but no Harry, Draco noticed. "How come there isn't one of you?" he asked.
Harry looked back to see what Draco was talking about. "Oh. Not exactly keen on sitting for five hours doing nothing while someone paints me."
"Makes sense," Draco said looking away from the paintings and back to the person he was following.
Harry led Draco to the door of his bedroom straining his brain trying to remember whether or not his room was in a suitable condition.
He gingerly pushed open the door and was relieved by the sight that met his eyes.
The large four-poster bed immediately caught Draco's eye. It looked quite impressive but the thief didn't stop to dwell on thoughts of what one could do in a bed of that size. He was already crossing the room to the wardrobe that stood opposite the foot of the bed.
He flung open the doors and began his search.
Harry sat on the end of the bed watching as Draco flicked through a few pairs of pants, stopped, went back a pair and pulled them from the cupboard. He held them out in front of him, head tilted to one side. The grey eyes gave the trousers a thorough inspection before a small frown caused them to be cast from the selection and onto the floor.
"All this stuff fits you, right?" he asked as he pulled a pair of plain dark brown trousers from the rack.
Harry nodded.
"Good," said Draco not taking his eyes from the pants. They under went the same scrupulous inspection.
Harry couldn't see much of a difference between them and the previous pair but the blond seemed to think there was. He tossed them onto the bed next to Harry, satisfied, and delve back into the wardrobe.
"Draco, what you're wearing isn't much different to what I've got on at the moment," Harry said trying to distract himself from the sight of the thief bent over in front of him.
Draco straightened up holding two waistcoats. "No one's going to dare question what I'm wearing. One of the perks of being in my position. When you become leader of a bunch of crims, feel free to wear whatever you want, but for now we don't want you standing out. You never know if someone might recognise you, like Blaise and I did. People might start asking questions. That's why it'll be easier if you blend in."
"You recognised me?" Harry asked curiously.
Draco lowered the waistcoats and looked up to meet Harry's eye. "Yeah," he said with a soft smile on his lips.
Harry felt his breath catch and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the young man in front of him.
Draco swallowed slowly; it hadn't been smart to look up. Harry was staring right at him and now he felt he couldn't bear to look away. He forced himself to shift his gaze from the penetrating green stare, but this seemed a mistake as his eyes where now fixed with the sight of Harry's lips. He felt his legs slowly take him forward, towards the lips.
He was almost at his destination when a small voice yelled at him to stop in the back of his head. He wanted to disregard it, but he knew it was the right thing to do. It was far too early. Who knew how Harry would react to suddenly finding another man's lips on his own. He hardly knew Draco; he'd probably be scared half to death. And then there was the little fact of Draco being another male. He still wasn't sure which way Harry swung.
Draco took a deep breath to regain himself and held up the waistcoats. "I think this one will go with the pants." He placed a paler brown cotton coat next to Harry and turned around again. Focussing himself again on the task at hand.
Harry leant his head to the side against one of the bedposts. He picked up the coat and ran his fingers over the material absentmindedly. He watched as Draco put his hands on his hips and glared at the selection of shirts. His love-starved mind had certainly got his imagination running overtime lately. Draco's mind was clearly on the job at hand; he had not just seen the thief take a few tentative steps towards him. There was no way in hell. Harry decided to also remind himself, before his imagination went on its own wild run again, that it would be impossible for someone like Draco not to be taken already. He sighed gently and looked down to the waistcoat in his hands.
Draco decided to give up on the shirts for now. Instead he pulled out a pair of old faded black shoes and some greying socks. He squatted down to inspect the shoes but his mind began to drift as he did so. Was there anyway of finding out, without giving away what he was doing, if his assumptions about Harry and his interests were true? He ran the question around in his head as he gave the shoe a polish with the socks. Perhaps there was, he thought looking up at the shirts, with a plan developing rapidly in his mind.
"Harry," he said standing up.
Harry looked up.
"None of these shirts are going to do."
Harry frowned, "Not even a plain white one?" he asked rising from the bed and coming over to look at his shirts.
"I'm afraid not," Draco said, folding his arms and leaning against the wardrobe. "All of them have been tailored far too well."
"But is that really noticeable?" Harry held up a sleeve and squinted at the stitching.
"Very," the thief said simply.
"So what do you propose we do then?" Harry dropped the sleeve and looked questioningly at Draco.
The thief put on a thoughtful expression, pushed off the cupboard and began to walk slowly around the room. "I don't know. Unless we can somehow find another shirt."
He put his hands on his hips again and looked to the ceiling thinking.
"What?" Harry asked as Draco suddenly looked at him with his eyes alight and a small smile playing on his lips.
"You're pretty much the same size as me," said Draco walking over to Harry and looking him up and down.
Harry's heart stopped as Draco began to unbutton the shirt he was wearing. He looked away. God, why did the blond have to torment him like this? He risked a look back. Draco grinned at him and pulled his shirt off, holding it out for Harry to take.
Draco applauded his own brilliance as he passed his shirt to the brunet who wasn't taking his eyes from the thief's chest.
"Thanks," said Harry, ripping his eyes up and taking the shirt.
So it's confirmed, Draco thought smugly to himself. Harry definitely swings the same way as I do.
"What's that you've got around your neck?" Harry asked as he hung the shirt on a hanger. Probably a present from your lady, he thought bitterly. It was probably that girl. The one who had fallen on Ron. She'd been pretty. Yes, Harry thought confirming it. Draco and her. He was getting his hopes up for nothing. Asthough someone as good looking as the thief wouldn't have been already taken, and even if he hadn't the likelihood of him liking another man when he'd have the choice of all the women in the country was ludicrous.
"Oh," said Draco looking down at the gold locket that hung around his neck. He never took it off and was so used to it that he never seemed to notice it. It must have stood out to people who weren't used to seeing it. He held it up for Harry to look at.
Harry walked over and took the locket carefully in his fingers. Engraved on the front was the same engraving as had been on the lock pick, the Slytherin snake. He opened it with care. Inside was a portrait the size of a penny and although small was extremely well detailed. It was of a woman with long blonde hair and magnificent blue eyes.
"Your mother?" he asked.
Draco nodded, making sure not to bump Harry as the locket still hung around his neck causing Harry to be standing incredibly close.
"She was beautiful," Harry said softly.
Draco's mind stopped for a millisecond, replaying what Harry had just said: She was beautiful… He was using the past tense- he knew. Draco felt a rush of gratitude towards the aristocrat. He must have known all along and he never said anything, didn't attack him with questions like everyone else did of how and when?
"Thanks," he said just as softly.
Harry knew what Draco was talking about. He looked up and smiled. "No problem."
A/N: And after all that they didn't do anything, and Draco had his shirt off and everything. But so you don't all kill me I'm warning you now that next chapter I'm changing the rating to M. (which means i promise you something, not massive straight away (that'd be stuffed) but perhaps if you're good and don't harass me with complaints of 'why did you miss the perfect opportunity for them to at least kiss?' and you review and hit me with suggestions of what you want to see in coming chapters etc. then I'll think about that 'something' and its inclusion in the next chapter.)
Oh, and to anyone who cares I got the password back for my other account... But by no means does that mean I'm deserting this one. I love this story too much.
-Rogue