Chapter twenty one: The Death Eater's son
Draco's lips still tingled hours later after Harry's kiss (He was positive that it was Harry who had leaned in the last inch and pressed their lips together). Draco kept running it over and over in his head as he watched the house-elves lug his trunk to the sleek black car Dumbledore had procured for the boy's transportation to the Leaky Cauldron.
He had sat in blissful shock for what seemed to be hours but was probably only a matter of minutes before he was able to move and he only raised his arm to caress his lips. He hadn't known how much he had wanted Harry to kiss him or to kiss Harry until after the fact when his heart mourned the lost of contact and he yearned for more.
When Harry had gone running out, Draco didn't have the ability to go after him and when he did regain control over his motor skills and made the trek to his room, Harry was already asleep.
Draco had lied down and gone into a fanciful world of dreams. He dreamt about the green-eyed Gryffindor.
The next morning Draco was rudely awaken by a frantic Harry.
"Draco, get up, we're going to be late!" The black-haired boy cried as he shook the blond.
"Wha?" Draco questioned inarticulately.
"We've overslept. Our ride will be here in a half hour." He said. Draco rolled over onto his back and rubbed his eyes bringing Harry into view. Remains of his lewd dreams about Harry stirred in the back of his mind and a sleepy seductive smile slowly spread across his lips.
"Morning," He said stretching like a cat and looking up at Harry through his lashes.
"Uh, morning," Harry said looking everywhere but at Draco. "Better, um, get dress." He said and turned away.
Draco hopped out of his bed.
"Well, I must shower." He said.
"We don't have time." Harry exclaimed. Draco put a hand on the boy's shoulder and leaned in.
"There's always time for a nice, hot shower." He purred before brushing past Harry and going into the bathroom. As soon as the door shut Harry shuttered violently. He could still Draco's hot breath tickling his ear. But the scary thing was…it made his heart pound in a not entirely unpleasant way.
No, I am not getting turned on by Draco Malfoy of all people. I do not love him. I can't, I won't. Harry thought. No matter what he had been willing to admit days ago, after that kiss last night, Harry slipped right back into denial. It had been too intense, too passionate, had felt too…right and it scared the shit out of him. And even now, with his breath coming in short gasps and his blood flowing southward, he was feeling far to warm and excited for his own peace of mind.
Never again. He told himself. He was not going to kiss Draco again, no matter how much he wanted to. He would just have to avoid all mentions of last night as much as possible and then when the time comes he'll have to explain to Draco that it didn't mean anything. Yeah, that was a good plan, now if only he could convince himself.
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Draco's heart was beating erratically as he shut the bathroom door behind him and leaned against it, the smooth, cool wood causing his hot, bare skin to prickle. He had to calm down. He couldn't go and get hard over merely touching Harry's shoulder and whispering in his ear, though that already being the case. Draco waved his wand, that he had instinctually picked up from the bedside table, and whispered a silencing spell.
"Oh, Harry, do you know what you do to me?" Draco asked aloud as he climbed into his shower and turned on the water. He turned the knob all the way to the left. He needed a nice cold shower after a night of erotic dreams and being so close to Harry.
Unfortunately, the cold water did nothing to dwindle his erect maleness. In fact, the cold water just sent Draco's mind spinning on certain ways Harry could warm him up. Draco shook himself out of those thoughts and turned the knob to the right. Maybe hot water would be the cure.
Draco was wrong. All that did was cause his skin to turn red and flushed.
"Hell and Damnation," Draco cursed. He didn't know if he had time for this, but he couldn't very well go out there in his current state.
Well there's nothing for it, He decided, turning the water to a more comfortable temperature. He put one hand on the side of the shower to brace himself and curled the other around himself.
He closed his eyes and began to image that it was Harry's soft warm hand on him, or the wet heat of Harry's mouth, or the velvety fire of Harry's flesh. He envisioned feeling the delicious weight of Harry's body on his, of having the other boy's skin melt into his.
He could almost feel the heat of Harry's passion. Feel the rippling and the raw, liquid power under that skin, contained in those incredible muscles. He saw himself running his hands, tongue and teeth over every line, every dip and every crevice of that magnificent body.
Draco felt himself teetering on the edge. He moaned Harry's name out loud and in his fantasy Harry responded with groaning Draco's name. Draco came with a cry and when he opened his eyes he was rather disoriented. He had been sure that he had been in his bed with Harry. But here he was, alone, in the shower, the walls covered with his mess.
It took Draco a few moments to gathering his bearings. Once his head was clear, Draco stepped under the water to wash away the residue and finished up his shower.
After his shower, Draco had quickly dried off and dressed then directed a house-elf to lug his trunk as he stood by and supervised, too lost in his thoughts to notice even if a parade of pink and orange emo kids came running down the block followed by a pack of rapid turtles.
Draco was ready to admit that he was, in fact, deeply, madly, passionately, and hopelessly in love with Harry Potter. He wanted Harry in a way he had never wanted anything, with all his heart and soul. He wanted to give Harry all of him and have all of the other boy in return. He wanted to love him and be loved by him.
He wanted everything and Harry was his everything.
Draco sighed wistfully then scoffed in mock disgust at his sappiness. But he couldn't feel anything but absolute bliss at the moment. He was going to tell Harry how he felt that night.
"We ready?" Harry asked pulling his trunk behind him and tossing it into the boot of the car, before grabbing Draco's trunk from the small house-elf who looked up at Harry with large, grateful eyes.
"Looks like." Draco said smiling. He just couldn't seem to not smile around Harry.
"Well alright then." Harry said with a small smile of his own before shutting the trunk and getting into the car. Draco walked around to the other side and slid in also. Once both boys were in and buckled up, the car began to move.
Harry took to staring out the window at the dismal England countryside. The sky was covered in thick grey clouds that seemed to suck the colour out of everything. There wasn't much to look at but his other option was to talk to Draco and that was not a conversation he was ready for. Especially not with a stranger in the vehicle as well.
Though Harry didn't want to talk to Draco, he could tell that the blond wanted to talk to him. He was acutely aware of not only the blonde's closeness in the small confines of the car but he could also feel Draco's eyes on him. It was as if the molten silver of his eyes was being poured down his spin and sent waves of heat through his body.
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Draco stared at Harry willing the black-haired boy to look back at him, but it would seem that his will alone would not get the job done.
What on earth could he be looking at? Draco wondered. He squinted and tried to see out of Harry's window. All he saw was grass and maybe a few farm houses, yet Harry acted as if they were passing the Effile Tower.
Draco sighed mentally and turned his eyes away from Harry and around the car in hopes of finding something of interest.
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Harry desperately need something to take his mind off of the Slytherin, least he do something stupid and impulsive, like he always seemed to do. They passed what he was sure was the tenth thousand cow in the last twelve minutes. That was what led Harry to cow counting, the sport for the incurably bored.
1 cow, 2 cows, 3 cows, 4 cows, 5 cows…Harry counted in his head. 20 cows, 21 cows, 22 co- no wait that was a goat, 22 cows, 23 cows.
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Draco's eyes fell upon the seat in between them. Harry's hand was taking up most of the room. Draco felt the urge to cover the hand with his own. Just as Draco was about to put his own hand atop Harry's the boy shifted his body.
XxXxX
He just tried to hold my hand! Oh Merlin, He. Just. Tried. To. Hold. My. Hand! Harry thought frantically as he crossed his arm and leaned his head on the window. And I wanted him to. Oh Sweet Merlin's aunt Bridget, I am so screwed. He whined pitifully in his head.
Harry returned his attention to staring out the window and counting the cows.
Bugger, I don't know what number I was at.
Oh well,
1 cow, 2 cows, 3 cows, 4 cows, 5 cows,
It would seem that counting cows had the same effect as counting sheep; Harry only made it to seven cows before he was asleep. He had been up late the night before, even though he feigned sleep when Draco had come in and gone to bed, he hadn't been able to make his mind rest. It was near dawn when he finally passed out, a reminder of his life before Draco showed up at the Dursleys' doorstep.
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Draco looked over and saw that Harry was asleep. He couldn't say he wasn't a bit miffed. He really had wanted to discuss the kiss last night but the boy looked so peaceful and Draco could tell that he had been very tired that morning, even if he had woken before the blond, so he let him sleep and looked out the window.
Ugh, cows. He thought as the car continued on through the countryside.
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The drive from Malfoy Manor to the Leaky Caldron took about three hours but it didn't feel that long to either boy. To Draco it felt like it took eons to get to London, let alone the pub and he was sure he would have nightmares about cows for the rest of his life. Harry, on the other hand, felt like it had hardly been enough time and was still rather tired but his tiredness soon faded as another thought entered his mind.
Ron and Hermione are here. He thought happily as the car pulled up in front of the pub. Harry had developed a marvelous talent at being able to wake up moments before they reached his destination. It was a talent he had learned after falling asleep on a long drive with the Dursleys to visit Aunt Marge. Harry had a rather nasty surprise when he woke up. A beefy bulldog was licking the crotch of his pants.
Harry had been frightened and very disturbed. He had tried to move but the dog growled and barked loudly. Dudley showed up at that moment and made fun of Harry's 'new' friend, the entire trip. Come to find out it had been Dudley's doing all along. He had put a piece of meat in Harry's pants and had let the dog into the car, which Harry was blamed for by the way and forced to clean the whole thing, inside and out.
Ever since then, on the very few road trips he had been on, he always woke before they stopped so that nothing could be done to him. At least nothing too bad, one can't really do much to another in a moving vehicle.
While Harry was grinning like a fool when they pulled up to the pub, Draco was looking a little green around the gills. For the last leg of the trip all he could think about was that Harry's friends were going to be at the Leaky Cauldron waiting for them.
As soon as the car stopped Harry bounded out and rushed into the building. Draco sighed.
Just got to grin and bare it. I can do this. Draco told himself as he got out of the car as slow as possible. Come on, you've been around Granger and Weasley numerous times, don't turn spineless now. But no matter what Draco told himself, he knew it wasn't the same. Nothing was the same anymore.
He and Harry's relationship had changed drastically and so would his relationships with the rest of the Golden Trio. That's all there is to it. Draco took a deep breath, threw back his shoulders and entered the pub.
It was time to change his world.
The low lighting of the pub in contrast with the sunlit streets of London blinded Draco for a moment. When his eyes adjusted he wished they hadn't.
The pub was rather empty at that time in the morning. Most of the guest who were staying there were already risen and out doing their errands, but the few that were there, two or three others besides the Gryffindors, stopped what they were doing the second Draco entered.
Two old biddies sitting at the table on his right stared in shock and fear as the Death Eater's son entered. The man in the corner's hand immediately went to his wand at his side. Even Tom, the elderly hunchback gave Draco a wide berth when he passed him pulling both his and Harry's trunks behind him, the hand pulling Draco's had a piece of cloth wrapped around it.
Straight ahead of him watching from a booth were Harry and his friends. Harry felt bad for Draco. He didn't know if it were as obvious to the others that the reactions he received angered and hurt him.
Forget them, Draco. Come to me. Harry tried to convey to the blond. Draco walked stiff legged to the Harry's table. To everyone else it would appear to be a pompous, conceited walk, but Harry saw that it was all Draco could do not to run straight to Harry.
Draco almost sighed in relief when he sat down. As much as he loathed admitting it, the evil looks he was getting bothered him. He wasn't his father, why couldn't anyone see that? Draco nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand clasping his own.
Harry smiled slightly at Draco's wide-eyed expression.
"It's ok, don't worry about them. I know who you are." Harry murmured to the blond. Draco nodded slightly. Harry gave his hand a squeeze before pulling away and starting a whispered conversation with Ron. Draco willed his breathing to return to normal. He looked up and found himself being scrutinized by a pair of chocolate brown eyes.
"Hello, Granger," Draco greeted.
"Hermione," The girl said.
"Pardon?" he asked confused.
"My name is Hermione." She said. Draco nodded; he understood what she was doing.
"Hello, Hermione," he said, inclining his head in respect.
"Hello, Draco," Hermione replied with a wide smile.
Harry and Ron, who had stopped to listen, were shocked.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Ron asked the brunette.
"Of course I am, Ronald." Hermione said, waving away the boy's concern. "Why do you ask?" Ron squirmed under the girl's intense gaze.
"Uh…well, it's just that you, um; I mean…you called Malfoy 'Draco'!" Ron finally blurted out.
"Yes I did, and?" she asked annoyed. "It is his name after all."
"I know that…it's just…it's-it's Malfoy!" Ron said gesturing wildly to Draco.
"Ronald, really, you're not going to hold on to old prejudices still are you?" Hermione asked rolling her eyes at her friend's antics.
"Well…no," Ron said, but his tone of voice and the downcast of his eyes told Draco that he had intended to do just that. And, Hermione, it would seem, was not fooled either.
"What am I to do with you? He's on our side. You've known this for weeks. That's plenty of time to get use to the idea. Harry has."
"Actually I only found out yesterday, how did you know?" Harry said from his side of the table.
"Dumbledore." Hermione answered shortly before turning to Ron who stuttered out an answer as if Harry hadn't spoken.
"I know that! I am use to the idea, it's just…" He left off.
"Just what?" Hermione asked in a way that told Ron he had to answer and it had better be good.
"Just don't expect me to call him by his first name. He's still Malfoy." Ron said, his still lowered eyes showed his guilt for being rude but the firm definite set of his jaw said he meant it.
Hermione's mouth flew open, most likely to berate him or chaste him but Draco interrupted her.
"I don't believe I gave you leave to use my name anyway, Weasley." Draco drawled. Ron's eyes flew to Draco's, his face already red with anger but when he saw the humour in the blonde's eyes and the outrage in Hermione's he understood what Draco was doing for him.
"Good, Malfoy," He put extra emphasis on his surname. "Because, even though your name fits you, for you defiantly smell like a dragon, I don't think I could stomach saying it." Draco bit his tongue to keep from laughing out loud. He knew that had Ron said that to him a few months ago, he would've killed him, but now, with Harry by his side, the makings of a new friendship with Hermione and the utter lack of malice in Ron's blue eyes, he could feel nothing but happiness.
"Alright, alright, That's enough, Ron." Harry said seriously. Three pairs of incredulous eyes turned to him. Could Harry be so dense as to not know what was going on? "You shouldn't make fun of Draco's hygienic habits." Ron's mouth flew open to speak, most likely to explain to Harry that he was joking and Draco knew it but Harry cut him off. "Otherwise he'll take longer in the bathroom than he does now and I'll be the one smelling like a dragon."
It took the others to comprehend that Harry was just joining in on the joke. Harry began to chuckle and shortly after Ron and Hermione joined in. Harry turned to Draco and stopped laughing. The blonde's face was fifty shades of red.
"Oh, Draco, I'm sorry." He hastened to apologize before the Slytherin exploded. "I didn't mean to make fun, I just thought…" He was cut off as Draco suddenly busted out laughing. Hermione and Ron joined it.
"You shoulda…seen your face," Draco choked out before he began to laugh so hard that no sound was coming out and he clutched at his sides. Ron, too, laughed harder. Fat tears of mirth spilled out of his blue eyes. Hermione's giggles took on a bit of a hysteric edge.
Harry couldn't help it, he began to laugh to. It was funny. Draco grabbed Harry arm to hold himself upright so that he wouldn't fall out of the booth. The image of Draco sprawled across the floor of the pub caused Harry to laugh louder.
After a few moments the four teens were able to calm themselves.
"Ah, that was so funny," Ron said wiping the tears from his face. The other two boys could only nod and Hermione hadn't even heard the question. She was, reasonably, distracted.
It would seem that Draco was holding Harry's arm in a not-so-platonic way and Harry didn't seem to notice, or mind. The implications of this swarmed through her head.
What the hell happened this summer? She wondered in astonishment.
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(AN: I don't know what the English countryside looks like but I imagine it would resemble what I wrote…hopefully lol. As for the cow counting, never done it, we have more buffalo in our countryside then cows. I want to pet a cow…random fact there lol.
I am not sure if they call a trunk of a car a boot in England but they do somewhere and the whole trunk, trunk thing with the trunks and the trunk of the car was just confusing so I called it that….and yeah.)