'The Fewer the Seeds, the More I Sow'
Harry woke slowly; moved by a gentle awareness that it was morning and that he'd just had the most peacefully deep sleep that he'd had in a very long time. He felt so comfortably warm and happy, that it was with a slight smile that he finally opened his eyes.
He looked over to see Draco smiling down at him, blond head propped up on one hand atop his pillow.
Harry's smile grew at the sight. "Morning," he said as he stretched.
"How are you feeling?"
Harry sighed as he relaxed back into the mattress. "Wonderful."
Draco chuckled. "Glad to hear it," he said before rolling atop the brunette and pinning him to the mattress.
Harry laughed and squirmed under the intense gaze, not to mention the half-hard body pressed to his.
Draco's expression softened as he leaned in for a sweet, lingering kiss.
Harry's arms came up and around Draco's naked back as they kissed. Harry's eyes fell shut as he explored and reacquainted himself with his lover's mouth; the taste and the feel of the Slytherin's talented tongue was intoxicating.
Draco pulled back, slightly breathlessly, and opened grey eyes. "Wow, I'd better stop before you make me late for work."
Harry smirked and thrust his hips upwards underneath Draco's body.
Draco moaned and quickly sat up. "I mean it Harry," he said, trying not to smile. "I have to go, but…keep that thought for later." He placed a chaste kiss to Harry's lips before gently extricating himself and standing.
Harry pouted but reconciled to the fact that he would have to wait until later for another mind-blowing session between the sheets.
Draco hurriedly dressed and went out to the kitchen for breakfast as Harry took his time, going to the toilet and then slipping into some loose grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt.
Harry noticed that he was a little sore as he walked down the hallway. He almost enjoyed the feeling, as though his past never existed, as though it had been his first time last night.
Draco was just biting into some toast with marmalade when he entered.
Harry winced a little as he sat down on one of the bar stools and grabbed the cereal box.
"Sore?"
Harry glanced over at Draco and nodded. "A little, but I'm fine. I'm sure I'll have recovered by tonight," he added suggestively.
Draco shook his head and passed him the milk. "You're going to be the death of me Potter."
Harry grinned and poured a healthy amount of milk into his bowl before digging in.
"I shouldn't be late tonight," Draco said as he placed his crumb-filled plate into the dishwasher and straightened up. "Probably home around six. Have you got practice?"
Harry nodded as he crunched on his muesli. "I'll be back before six though," he said after swallowing.
"See you later." Draco smiled and touched his finger to Harry's cheek a moment before disappearing down the hallway to the front door.
Harry listened as Draco slipped on his shoes before the door opened and closed, leaving him all alone.
Harry pushed his cereal bowl away, his smile quickly fading. Draco's mention of work only reminded him of Lance Waverley and his "proposal." He suddenly didn't feel so hungry anymore.
Harry dumped the rest of his uneaten breakfast into the bin and cleaned up. He spent the rest of the day doing the odd chore around the flat and slowly getting ready for work, all the while a mass of butterflies in his gut, expecting a knock on the door at any moment.
It came time for him to leave for the stadium and still nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
It was with dread that he left the safety of the flat for work. He arrived at the stadium without incident and smiled when he saw Oliver and some other team members standing out on the turf.
"Harry." Oliver smiled upon seeing the young man. "Right on time, as always." Oliver paused, squinting at Harry's face as his old team mate walked right up to him and stopped.
"Hey," Harry greeted easily, wondering how long it would take before the other boy cottoned on.
Oliver smiled suspiciously. "Something is different…" he said.
Harry grinned; his earlier anxiety regarding an ambush from Lance disappearing. "Something is different," he said before snatching the new broom from Oliver's hand and taking off.
Oliver laughed and quickly grabbed one of his fellow team mate's brooms and sped off to meet up with Harry mid-air. "What the hell Potter," he called out with a grin as caught up to the waiting brunette. "What's going on?"
Harry smiled and blinked his eyes a few times with deliberate exaggeration.
Oliver squinted at him. "Eyelash extensions?"
Harry laughed and shook his head.
Oliver's eyes lit up as the penny dropped. The older boy withdrew a snitch from his trouser pocket and tossed it into the air. The fluttering gold wings burst forth from its round body before it suddenly zipped off to the other side of the stadium.
Harry immediately leant down low over his broom handle and shot off after it. He had to squint his eyes against the onslaught of wind as he powered across the stadium, tracking the little gold flash just ahead of him.
Adrenaline surged through his body as he focused intently on the snitch, nothing mattered to him more in that moment than catching that tiny golden prize. He quickly gained on it as it switched directions and dove, twisting every which way but not losing its predatory follower.
Harry followed it into a steep dive, reaching out his right hand as he pushed his broom to the limit. The broom began to wobble a little from the velocity but it didn't matter, Harry pulled out of the dive just before the ground, clasping the snitch in one hand and grinning from ear to ear.
He pulled up and gracefully leapt off, broom in one hand and snitch in the other. His legs felt a little shaky beneath him but the adrenaline kept him standing. He felt as though he'd just drunk about five cups of strong coffee all at once, he was positively buzzing.
"Harry!" Oliver cried out as he came jogging over. "That was unbelievable!"
Harry grinned, green eyes sparkling. He laughed as Oliver practically bowled him over as he hugged him before pulling back and looking into his face excitedly.
"Harry, you have to play for us," he said.
Harry passed him the snitch. "Be serious."
"I am!" Oliver exclaimed. "I'm Captain and I want you to play reserve Seeker. Please! I knew you were good but that little demonstration just blew me away mate."
"Really?" Harry felt his heart jump at the thought of playing professional quidditch. "But… I haven't played in years."
Oliver slung one arm around Harry's shoulders. "Exactly, if you can fly like that after not training for so long, then just imagine what you could do with a couple practices under your belt. I'd be crazy not to offer you a spot."
Harry smiled in disbelief. "Wow thanks Oliver."
"Is that a yes?"
Harry hesitated for only a fraction of a second. "That's a yes."
Oliver whooped and tugged Harry along across the turf towards the rest of the team who were in the midst of stretching and warming up on the ground.
"Attention!" Oliver shouted as they approached the group. "I am very pleased to introduce the newest member of our team, our new reserve Seeker, Mr Harry Potter."
Harry ducked his head shyly, cheeks flaming, as the rest of the team clapped and cheered. He hoped they weren't angry that he hadn't had to go through the usual rigorous try-out to get a spot on the team. He was friends with Oliver but he knew the other boy well enough to know that Oliver would never put someone on his team if he didn't believe in them one hundred percent. Oliver took quidditch much too seriously for that.
"Would you like to join in our practice today then Harry?" Oliver asked, turning to him with a smile and an excited spark in his brown eyes.
Harry nodded enthusiastically. That little taste of chasing the snitch and the accompanying burst of adrenaline already had him clamoring for more.
Harry joined in with the rest of the warm-up. Some of the other players introduced themselves and shook his hand, as he had never been properly introduced to any of them. He hadn't wanted to call attention to himself before and Oliver had kindly agreed to remain vague about the new young wizard testing out their game brooms.
Harry had a blast as he ran some drills with the other talented flyers. He felt as though his reflexes were still a little slow and his flying muscles were rusty but he felt exhilarated. He knew he'd be sore tomorrow.
The Seeker of the team, Warren, was friendly enough and ran through some of his own training drills with Harry, trying to keep him on his toes. Warren gave him loads of advice and tips and Harry ate up everything he said with an eager intensity that had the other wizard smiling in amusement.
They all clapped Harry on the back at the end of practice, congratulating him again and welcoming him to the team. Harry smiled, embarrassed but pleased, relieved that they seemed to be a friendly bunch. It felt nice to be part of a team again.
Oliver slung one arm around his shoulders as he led him back to the change rooms. "I knew we'd be back on the same team again one day Potter. I'm just glad I snagged you before the competition did."
Harry laughed. He was sweaty and exhausted – and happy.
"Hey, how was the new broom?" Oliver asked as they entered the large change room.
"Decent," Harry replied, opening the locker that he'd been using all along. "Wobbled a bit when I pushed the speed though."
"Hmm…" Oliver said thoughtfully. "I think the last model was better under pressure."
"But not as responsive," Harry said.
Oliver nodded. "Back to the drawing board I suppose, find a working combination of the two of them. We'll have to get a name plaque for you Harry."
Harry looked up and Oliver nodded towards his locker. Harry smiled as he grabbed his towel.
"How does it feel to be a part of the infamous Puddlemere United?" Oliver asked him as they made their way to the showers.
Harry grinned. "Fan-bloody-tastic!"
Harry had a quick shower, luxuriating in the hot water and soap, feeling the warmth soothe his tense and sore muscles.
It wasn't until he was unlocking the door to his flat that he thought of Lance Waverley again. He swallowed and tried to push away any thought of the man. He hadn't seen him all day, maybe he had changed his mind, maybe the man had been drunk at the time...
Harry walked into the flat and immediately heard a noise from the kitchen. His heart leapt into his throat for a moment until he heard some familiar humming.
Harry relaxed, feeling almost giddy with relief. He kicked off his shoes and wandered into the kitchen.
Draco was in the midst of pouring some batter into a muffin tin when he looked up at Harry and smiled. "Hey, you're home."
Harry plopped down onto one of the mahogany bar stools and leaned his elbows on the bench top. "What are you doing?"
"Cooking dinner," Draco replied proudly. "Yorkshire pudding."
Harry's brows rose, impressed. "Yum, I'm famished."
"How was practice?" Draco asked, turning back to his cooking.
Harry smiled and lowered his chin to his arms. "Fantastic. Oliver offered me a position on the team – reserve Seeker."
"What?" Draco shut the over door and turned to Harry in disbelief. "Really?"
"Yep." Harry smiled.
"Harry… that's brilliant!" Draco exclaimed. "So practice went very well I take it, how did that come about?"
Harry shrugged modestly. "I just chased the snitch and Oliver asked if I'd like to join the team. I joined in their practice today too."
"How did you go?"
"Not bad," Harry replied. "I felt a little weak and slow but I think I'll get there. Hopefully I'm not too old," he added, half joking half serious.
Draco walked around the island and leaned against the bench next to him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh please Harry, the whole team are older than you aren't they?"
"Yeah, but they haven't stopped training since they were teenagers. I'm starting all over again," Harry countered.
"Well Oliver obviously thought you were good enough to be on the team so you can't be that out of practice," Draco reasoned.
Harry smiled reluctantly. "Yeah, I suppose."
Draco smiled and stroked a finger down Harry's cheek, one of Harry's favourite gestures. "You must be tired then."
"Exhausted," Harry replied, closing his eyes with a sigh.
"Why don't you go watch some telly and I'll bring dinner in to you?" Draco offered.
Harry smiled and raised his head. "Where are you finding the time and energy to cook for me after a long day at work?"
"I have an endless supply," Draco smirked. "Go on, I'll join you in a second."
Harry smiled tiredly and dragged himself into the lounge, collapsing onto the couch and putting his feet up as he grabbed the remote control. He realised that he hadn't watched television for some time. It was funny all the things that he hadn't done for so long because of his sight. He didn't even know what was on anymore.
He was still flipping channels when Draco walked in and sat next to him. "Here you take it," Harry said, passing him the remote. "I don't know what anything is."
Draco took the remote and flipped to the guide to see what was on. The blond smiled as Harry leaned against his side, seeming to settle in for a night of tv watching. Nothing sounded better to Draco, it was all so domestic but comforting and… nice.
Draco absently stroked Harry's wrist beside his Grevillea bracelet as he settled on an episode of Flight of the Conchords. He wanted to avoid any heavy dramas; thinking a comedy would be best for his partner who had had enough drama to last a lifetime.
The timer went on the oven and soon they were both tucking into warm Yorkshire pudding whilst watching the funny misadventures of Bret and Jemaine.
. . . .
The next two weeks flew by in a flurry of activity as Harry attended practice after practice, trying to make up for lost time. He trained every waking minute that he could and fell into bed exhausted but happy every night. He slept in Draco's bed on a permanent basis now, sometimes just sleeping and sometimes more – when he had the energy.
The threat of Lance coming along and bursting his peaceful cloud of happiness was slowly pushed to the back of his mind as time went on and nothing happened –
until his first day off.
Oliver forced Harry to take a full day off from training or anything quidditch related. He was worried that Harry would burn out before he had even played a single game.
Harry slept in, smiling and mumbling some sort of half-conscious farewell to Draco as the blond kissed him goodbye and headed off to work. He didn't drag himself out of bed until nine o'clock, feeling thoroughly lazy and self-indulgent.
Harry dressed and decided to go out for breakfast after wandering into the kitchen and finding nothing of interest to eat. He wrapped his warm black coat around himself and slipped into his boots before wandering outside into the brisk air. He was halfway down the street when he heard someone calling his name.
"Harry!"
Harry turned and felt his stomach drop out from under him when he saw Lance Waverley striding confidently up the footpath behind him, a dazzlingly white smile on his face. The taller wizard looked tanned, as though he'd just gotten back from some tropical holiday.
Harry stood mutely, watching his approach.
"Where are you headed?" Lance asked, still smiling, as he came to a stop in front of him.
Harry unglued his throat to reply. "Breakfast."
"May I join you?"
Harry desperately wanted to say no but knew it would be futile. "Sure," he said tonelessly before turning and continuing on his way.
Lance fell into step beside him. "How have you been? I've missed you," he said quietly, ensuring that his voice didn't carry to any passersby.
Harry cringed and kept his eyes firmly on the pavement beneath his feet.
"I was in Thailand," Lance continued, oblivious. "Lovely place Harry, you should come with me sometime, I'm sure I could arrange it."
"No thanks," Harry replied succinctly.
"Well, as my paramour you don't really have a say in the matter," Lance replied lightly.
"I can't be away from Draco," Harry said, stopping and turning to face the other man.
"Of course you can," Lance said instantly, his tone was still light but there was hardness in his blue eyes.
"No, I can't," Harry repeated firmly before holding up his wrist and pulling back his sleeve to show the glinting Grevillea bracelet.
Lance's eyes widened with comprehension. "Ah… I wondered how Malfoy got you out of there. Ingenious, albeit risky, can't change his mind now can he?"
Harry ground his teeth together as he lowered his arm and slipped his hand back into his coat pocket. "He isn't going to change his mind."
Lance merely smiled. "I think we should have breakfast at my place Harry."
Harry felt a tremor of fear spike through him at Lance's words. Even though he had agreed to this "deal" he still didn't know what kind of man Lance would be behind closed doors.
Lance removed something from his pocket and held it out. Harry looked down to see a small metal Buddha statue laying on a piece of purple silk in his upturned palm.
"This portkey can remain with you," Lance explained. "It'll take you straight to my place whenever I need you."
Harry swallowed as the statue and silk were placed in his hand. The urge to run was thrumming through his body at the same time that he felt frozen to the pavement.
"I'm going to Disapparate home now," Lance said, watching him closely. "I expect you there in one minute."
Harry felt like he was going to be sick.
"Harry?"
Harry finally dragged his eyes up from the portkey in his hand and nodded silently.
"Good." Lance smiled and tipped his head at him in farewell before disappearing with a loud crack.
Harry exhaled shakily and looked around. There were only a few people on the street, going about their daily routine and not paying any attention to him.
He looked down at the tiny portkey, it looked so harmless and insignificant, but it was heavy in his hand. It carried with it an enormous burden; a double life that he must lead in order to keep the life that he wanted. Draco had made sacrifices for him and he would do the same.
Harry took a deep breath and curled his fingers around the portkey, his bare skin touching the magical object and instantly whipping him away from Godric's Hollow.
Harry opened his eyes once he felt solid ground beneath him once more. He was standing in what appeared to be a large bedroom. The room was decorated in deep maroons and gold and was very opulent in its furnishings. There were French doors that led out onto an expansive balcony bathed in sunlight, as well as an opening on the left side of the room that led into a very spacious marble ensuite.
Harry thought the place looked just like its owner; rich, powerful and ostentatious.
Harry wandered over to the stone balcony to see Lance seated in a chair at a small white, wrought-iron table. On the table was a pot of tea and a silver tiered tower full of scones and jam and other delicious-looking breakfast items.
Harry found that he had lost his appetite.
Lance beckoned for Harry to join him. "What do you think of the place Harry?" he asked as Harry took the seat opposite him.
"Predictable," Harry replied, looking out at the manicured gardens and water features spread out before them atop a vast green lawn that went on for miles. "Where are we?"
"This is my private chateau, in Provence."
"We're in France?" Harry said, unsettled. He didn't like the feeling of being so far away from the familiar.
"Oiu." Lance grinned, taking a sip of tea. "It's very private, no servants or nosy neighbours here. Now, we must get down to business Harry."
Harry forced himself to sit still and to look Lance in the eye, the urge for flight once again taking hold.
"How long can you be away from Mr Malfoy?"
Harry tried to swallow his panic and keep his voice steady as he answered. "About eight or nine hours now."
Lance nodded. "Hmm… and the longer you are together the more time you are able to be away, is that correct?"
Harry nodded reluctantly; he didn't like divulging personal information about his relationship with Draco.
"Interesting," Lance mused setting his cup down again. "And what happens when you go over that limit?"
"Pain," Harry replied simply.
"Tsk tsk." Lance grinned disparagingly. "We shall have to avoid that at all costs then."
Harry remained quiet, wondering what the man had in store for him today. He didn't like all this calm chit chat while waiting for the bomb to drop.
"You seem nervous Harry," Lance observed.
"What are you going to do to me today?" Harry asked brazenly.
Lance chuckled. "Patience beloved, we need to set some ground rules first. And it's not what I'm going to do to you, it's what you're going to do to me," he said, blue eyes raking Harry's body greedily.
Harry sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and looking out across the gardens. "What rules?" he asked.
"Rule one," Lance began, clearly enjoying every moment. "You may not mark my body in any way – and I shall endeavour to do the same for you."
Harry glanced back at him, suspicious as to whether the blond would keep that promise or not.
"Rule two, you cannot refuse me anything in the bedroom. In saying that," Lance added upon seeing a flash of panic in Harry's emerald eyes. "I don't wish to do anything that frightens you."
Harry looked back out across the gardens again, keeping his arms tightly wrapped around himself.
"Rule three," Lance continued seriously, standing and crouching in front of Harry, taking his chin in one hand and forcing that green gaze to meet his own. "You must pretend at all times that you are in love with me – and that Malfoy doesn't exist."
Harry almost felt relieved. He could certainly fake romantic attachment, he'd done it for many customers, but the fact that he could pretend that Draco didn't exist for the time that they were together was a blessing. Maybe he could trick himself into forgetting that he was betraying someone, someone that he had come to love. It would break Draco's heart if he knew what was going on…
Harry shook his head and forced a phony smile. "Of course."
Lance looked pleased. He straightened up and held out a hand to Harry. "Come, my beloved."
Harry swallowed and forced himself to place his hand into Lance's.
Harry tried to remain detached for the next two hours as Lance made him slowly remove all of their clothing and lay on the bed together. Lance made him explore every inch of his body, reverently, as though they were true lovers, before demanding that Harry suck him off.
"You are a treasure," Lance said languidly afterwards, lying back on the bed and closing his eyes.
Harry wanted to spit in his face. He wiped his mouth and stood up, reaching for his clothes.
"Be a dear and wipe me off before you go."
Harry bit his tongue as he grabbed a washcloth from the ensuite and ran it under some warm water. He felt slightly nauseous as he gently wiped Lance's softening genitals. The man was very fit and had a flawless body but Harry couldn't be more repulsed.
Lance sighed contentedly before sitting up on his elbows and smiling at him. "See you again soon, my beloved."
"How soon?" Harry asked, tossing the washcloth aside and grabbing his rumpled clothes from off of the floor.
"Mmm… probably in a week," Lance replied thoughtfully. "I don't know that I can go much longer than that without your sweet touch love."
Harry shuddered at the endearment as he jammed his jeans back on as quickly as possible. That was something only Draco had ever called him.
"Here's a portkey that will take you to an old abandoned shack in Godric's Hollow," Lance said as he reached for a leather pouch on the bedside table. He tossed it to Harry who caught it in one hand and looked inside. "Bring it with you every time you visit."
Inside was what looked like a very large diamond.
"Until next time, sweet Harry."
Harry looked up at Lance's smug expression before quickly touching the portkey and whirling away in a tornado of colour.
Harry sprinted all the way home from the dark shack. He stowed the leather pouch containing the portkey in his coat pocket, in the pocket opposite to the Buddha statue, before bursting through the door to his flat.
It was still too early for Draco to be home so he ran into the bathroom and jumped into the shower. He made it as hot as he could stand it while scrubbing himself clean with the soap as thoroughly as possible.
After half an hour in the hot steamy shower, he finally emerged, feeling slightly better.
He tossed his clothes into the laundry basket and put on one of Draco's robes before sitting on the couch and trying to lose himself in a silly reality tv show about weddings.
By the time Draco arrived home, Harry was feeling much more like himself – but desperate to see his partner.
Draco smiled in surprise as Harry came to greet him at the front door and hugged him tight.
"Hey Harry," he said affectionately into that thick dark hair. "You alright?"
Harry pulled back and smiled. "I'm fine, just missed you is all."
Draco clasped Harry's hand and gently kissed his fingers. "I missed you as well."
Harry followed him to the bedroom as Draco undressed and put on his "relaxing" clothes, all the while telling Harry about his day.
Harry sat on their bed and listened with a smile.
He could do this. As long as he had this life with Draco then he would put up with anything to keep it.