A/N: Chapter seventeen: Christmas part 2.
This is Harry/Draco, post-Hogwarts, though the slash content is extremely light. There are very vague suggestions of other relationships as well.
I've got this all written out, and am posting one a week. There will be 23 chapters total. All that's left is the editing.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Dedication: To Foodie, who still betas me despite my predilection for slash, and for FionaFawkes, who read and reviewed every single chapter, and gave me such excellent feedback. Also, for everyone who's read and loved my Harry/Draco. This one's for you.
-----18
After everyone had left, Draco snuggled up in his bed with one of the books he'd gotten, getting lost in the words. He'd always loved books—the smell, the feel, the way the rest of the world just disappeared…
He'd only been reading for a few moments when Harry knocked on his door, calling out, "Can I come in?"
"Sure," Draco responded, setting the book aside. He was glad Harry'd come to see him before going to sleep. He'd wanted to talk to him about the memories in the crystal, but it had felt awkward with everyone there watching them.
Harry closed the door behind him and settled on the bed. "You were amazing tonight, Draco. I don't even know who you are any more, you're so different from the boy I remember. Thank you for being so gracious with Ron. I know he's difficult sometimes, but he's still my friend…"
"I know, Harry. It's why I've been trying so hard not to respond to his jeers. I'm sorry I did at all tonight. I—"
"Draco, it was his fault, not yours. I know that. And you backed off as soon as I asked you to stop."
Draco smiled. "Only for you, Harry. If it had just been him and me, it would have been a match to the death."
Harry snorted. "Yeah, I can see it now. Him in a loincloth, and you in a tiger-skin, right?"
"Excuse me? I think you mean dragon skin…" he smirked.
Harry snorted. "Draco…"
They both laughed for a minute, and Harry lay back on the bed, stretched out on his back looking up at the ceiling. "You know, this might be the best Christmas I can ever remember having."
"Really? I was kind of thinking the same thing myself yesterday. I really like being here…" He swallowed the rest of the sentence—'with you,' would just sound a bit too forward. To be honest, he hadn't given a lot of thought to what he knew, but he knew there was something more going on between him and Harry than simple friendship. And he liked it. If he could keep it up, he would.
Harry was looking at him now, and Draco couldn't help but avoid his eyes. He wasn't too sure why he should feel guilty, but he did. "Draco?"
"Hm?"
"That stone…"
"The memory crystal?"
"Yeah, that. Why those memories?"
Draco took a breath before responding, gathering his thoughts so that he could talk without embarrassing himself. "Well, Madam Malkin's was a no-brainer, really. It was the first time I ever saw you."
"And watching me on my broom?"
Draco felt his cheeks colour. "I…that was sixth year. I'd been so busy, I'd missed Quidditch a lot. I finally decided I just needed a bit of fresh air, so I went and grabbed my broom, and went out to the pitch. But you were already there."
Harry leaned closer. "Why didn't you leave? Or even join me? You never worried about bothering me before…"
"I didn't even think about it. I'd watched you play a lot through our years at Hogwarts, but I'd never really watched you fly. You were always just my competition. My main competition, but still… And watching you…I don't know. It just—calmed me down. Almost like I was flying myself."
Harry looked at him for a long moment before asking, "And the last memory?"
Draco had to take another deep breath before he could answer. It felt like all of the air from his body had been expelled at once. "That one—" He swallowed and tried again. "That was when I figured out what my father'd been saying about you—about us."
"When you were telling me off about Pansy?" Harry asked, confused. "How did that help?"
Draco remembered the moment again. How angry he'd been at Harry for insisting that Pansy might not have his best interests at heart. "Yeah. It just came to me, out of nowhere. I think if I hadn't been so angry, and yelling at you, I might still not have figured it out."
Harry looked a bit pale. "And…what do you think your father meant, Draco?"
Draco looked down at his hands, and found his voice simply wouldn't raise above a whisper. "That—that you want me. The same way Pansy does."
Harry sat up. "Draco…"
"Harry, please stop. You can't pretend there isn't something you want from me. I wouldn't be here if there wasn't."
"You deserve as much a chance as anyone else, Draco."
"Maybe. But couldn't someone else have proved that as easily as you?"
Harry snorted and sat up fully then. "What makes me wanting to help you different from anyone else doing the same, Draco?"
"Our history. Harry, there's never been—simple feelings between us. Everyone knows that. I have a feeling that there are other things that most of your friends know that I was unaware of for a while, at least, aren't there?" Harry didn't say anything, so Draco continued. "After all, they didn't want you taking me in. And if it had been just that, I'm sure you would have at least convinced Hermione or Remus. They seem—empathetic people. They wouldn't want anyone to just rot away in Azkaban if they could help them. So their reasons for being worried when you took me in must have been a bit more personal."
Harry looked away. "So what if they are? It's not their life, is it?"
Draco wanted to touch him, but he had the feeling if he did, that Harry would be on his feet and out of the room faster than he could say "Stop." He swallowed. "Are you—Do you—" He took another breath and tried again. "Harry, how do you feel about me?"
Harry's shoulders slumped. "It really doesn't matter, Draco. Can't we just keep things the way they are? I like being able to finally spend time with you and not be upset. I don't want to mess that up."
"How do you know it will mess things up, Harry?"
Harry laughed and turned to him. "Draco, you're straight. You want to marry and have an 'heir.' It doesn't much matter what I want. You should have the life you want—if you can. And both of you seem to be doing well…"
"Harry, do you really expect me to believe that you're not hoping that Pansy is in on all of this test stuff?"
Harry frowned. "Not if it would hurt you, Draco. I want you to have what you want. Even if…"
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Even if it's with her?"
Harry nodded.
"And if I've changed my mind?"
Harry looked up at him, his expression halfway between scared and hopeful. "Have you?"
"I—I don't know. I…Pansy's been a part of my life for longer than I can remember. You know how it is. You have something—someone—in your life that long, and it's just natural to accept it. I've never bothered to think about alternatives." He swallowed and licked his lips, trying to get some of the dryness from his mouth. "Harry…"
Harry's eyes were glued to his lips, and Draco felt his heart beating heavily in his chest. "What?" Harry managed after a moment, finally recalling that Draco had said something to him.
Draco licked his lips again, and watched Harry's eyes track his tongue. He leaned closer, and whispered. "Kiss me?"
Harry's eyes flew up to meet his, and he backed off. "Draco, that's really a bad idea."
"Why? Because you're scared?"
"No, because you're under age."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Please. Physically, I'm only three years younger, Harry. That's nothing. And we both know that I'm not actually the age I am physically. Would it really be that horrible?"
"Yes," Harry said, stumbling to his feet. "You're my charge, and it's not right."
Draco snorted. "Gryffindors. Always have to be noble," he sneered. "Who'd really care, Potter?"
"I would, Draco. Or doesn't that matter?"
"So, kissing me would be a fate worse than death?"
"That's not what I meant, and you know it, Draco," Harry said angrily. He turned to move away from the bed, but Draco caught his hand.
"Harry, you do want to, right?" Harry made a vague shoulder movement that could have meant yes or no, or could have even been just him trying to get his hand free from Draco's grasp, but if he was, he wasn't trying very hard. "And I want you to. Or I wouldn't have asked. Who would it hurt?"
Harry's mouth was a thin line when he looked back at Draco. "I know you have problems defining right and wrong, Draco, but trust me. This is wrong. And I won't. Sometimes want doesn't really enter into it. Sometimes you just have to do what's right."
"So, you'll just let me go in a little over a month, and not be sorry you never kissed me?" Harry's eyes closed at that. "And if I never come back?"
Harry's head dropped. "Please, Draco…"
"Harry, sometimes right and wrong don't enter into it. Have you ever thought of that?"
"Draco, you can't really believe that—"
Draco clenched his teeth. This had gone far enough. He released Harry's arm. "Fine. Leave. See if I care. I need my sleep anyway."
Harry blinked. "Draco…"
"Go away. I'm done. If you don't want to kiss me, I'm hardly going to force you. Just get out already." He was starting to get really angry, and if Harry didn't leave soon…
"Draco, it's not that, it's just…"
"Get out!" Draco stood up and pushed at Harry's shoulders. "I don't want you in here any more. Just go away, damn it!"
Harry grabbed his hands. "Draco, stop it. I'm sorry if I upset you."
"Do you want to know what's upset me, Potter?"
"Draco…"
"Do you?"
Harry sighed. "What?"
"You're too fucking noble. You want this, and I want this, and you're too fucking noble to make the first fucking move. And I don't want to play this game any more. So just get out."
"Draco, I don't know what to say. You think this is a game to me, is that it? This is my life. In six weeks, you'll be gone, you'll probably be planning your wedding to her, and I'll be back where I started. Do you think that'll be easier with a memory of what it's like to kiss you?"
"So, you'd rather regret not kissing me? Not even give it a chance?"
"Draco, you don't even know you want this! Look how long it took you to get it! This is my life. I don't have someone convenient waiting in the wings for me. Not like you."
"What about Weasley's sister?" Draco sneered.
"What about her?"
"I seem to recall you were dating her our sixth year. You telling me she's not pining away for you in the wings somewhere?"
"As a matter of fact, we broke up at the end of sixth year. I had—other things to do. So she moved on."
That took Draco aback. "Oh. Well…It's not like no one would want you. You're Harry Potter. You can have whoever you want."
Harry laughed ruefully. "Right. They'd want Harry Potter. See, you don't get it, Draco. Just go to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."
Harry pulled away, and Draco watched him walk to the door, his heart sinking in his chest. "Harry…"
Harry turned to look at him, looking at him questioningly.
"I'm sorry. I just…" He sighed. "I gave you that crystal so you could see—I am interested…"
"But you're not ready," Harry said quietly.
"Tell me what you expect from me, then, please."
"I expect you to do your best, and grow up well. That's all." Then Harry opened the door, and was gone.
