Chapter 3 - Reminiscence
A/N: Please review? I'm tempted to dump this project... Bad case of writers block. At least for what comes after this chapter. This one is much longer than the last two and, at last, Draco is here!
WARNING: alcohol, language, sexual deviance (probably. Well, at least, implied).
Dedicated to my sister for convincing me to at least finish this chapter.
Draco
Draco Malfoy should have considered himself lucky.
He may have lost his family, his reputation, and a large proportion of his fortune, but he had a comfortable flat in on the nicer parts of Muggle London.
He tried to avoid the wizarding world as much as possible, but in the four years since the War his charity work for the Ministry now earned him more smiles and congratulations, than his past earned him abuse. He had helped fund raising, at first anonymously, for the opening of a specialist care unit at St Mungos. His information about the last known addresses of former Death Eaters and their sympathisers had led to the arrest and subsequent imprisonment of eight people.
Draco's reasonable lifestyle was funded by his nightclub. He had purchased it after its previous Muggle owners had gone bankrupt. The extra money from the cut price purchase meant that Draco could afford to refurbish and relaunch the club as an upmarket, highly exclusive gay nightclub. It was immediately popular, with Muggles and Wizards alike. In fact, some of Draco's most valuable patrons were prominent figures in the wizarding world. Not that he would ever divulge their names to the press. Twisted Sisters practically ran itself, its popularity fuelled by word of mouth and managed by a squib named Steve. It meant that Draco could continue his charity work unhindered.
Draco should have been content, if not happy that his life had taken such a good turn. But being a Malfoy, it just wasn't good enough.
Draco was lonely. In the last four years he'd had countless men in his bed, but he was never happy withthem. Many nights ended with a quick, unsatisfying fuck and he would leave them without a word.
There was one, Draco knew. One who would satisfy him.
Harry James Potter.
He'd heard about his antics of course. His face was regularly on the front page of the Prophet, and usually in several of the pages after for countless other pieces of good work, and more often than not in the gossip columns. There was always talk of him around the Ministry, but Draco had not seen the Golden Boy since he'd spoken at Draco's behalf , saving him from a long term in Azkaban.
Obsession born from years of watching him as a boy, stemming from Potter's initial rejection of his friendship, had led Draco to this conclusion.
Draco had never liked any of the girls that his father thrust upon him. He found these daughters of pureblood families haughty and fake. The fluttered their eyelashes and flitted around him like so many moths. It took Draco many years to figure out why these perfectly acceptable young women were so unbearable.
He'd never told his parents he was gay. Only Pansy and Blaise had known then.
Now of course, it was too late. His father couldn't take the strain of constant abuse and had killed himself within a year of the War. Draco was almost glad. The cowardly man had never been much of a father to him.
His mother was a different story.
She hadn't spoken a single word since she'd found Lucius hanging from the rafters in one of the stables at Malfoy Manor. The last sound that left her lips was the scream that had brought Draco running. Draco shuddered slightly whenever he remembered the sound. Narcissa had screamed for what had felt like hours. Draco had had to manhandle her away from the stable, tears in his own eye, as she'd screamed and screamed. After the screaming, the silence began. Narcissa had spent the following two years in St Mungo's. Once the Healers had admitted defeat, unable to help her, Draco had requested she be returned to the Manor.
Andromeda and Teddy also lived with her, again at the blonde's request. Andromeda was surprised initially, but was happy to return to her sister's life.
Draco visited often. He'd had his muggle flat connected to the Floo network, and had placed strong wards to prevent access by any unwanted guests.
Stepping gracefully out of the fireplace, he smiled as Teddy's infectious giggling echoed through the hall. He'd become fond of the little boy these past years. He never grew bored of watching the child's hair change with his mood, and the way his kaleidoscope eyes lit up when he saw Draco.
"Draco! We weren't expecting you this evening." Andromeda beamed as he entered the drawing room. Teddy was absorbed in the jigsaw laid out in front of the fire. His hair was chestnut brown as he concentrated on the pieces. It went bright turquoise as he saw Draco. He ran to the blonde and hugged his legs.
"Drakey!" he shrieked, delighted to see his uncle.
Draco bent and scooped him up off the floor, laughing.
"Sorry Andy, I couldn't resist little Teddy here," he smiled and bopped the boy lightly on the nose with a slender forefinger.
"Have you eaten my dear?" Andromeda asked as Draco sat down on the floor with Teddy, who returned to his jigsaw without leaving Draco's lap.
"I have thank you. Where is Mother?"
"In the library. She was reading something of your father's when I last checked on her."
"How is she this week?" Draco dragged his eyes from Teddy to look at his aunt. Concern had clouded her eyes.
"The same I'm afraid," she sighed. "I don't know whether to remove all traces of Lucius, or encourage her to remember him. Neither appears to have any effect on her state of mind. There is no change in her."
Draco sighed. Nothing seemed to have any effect on his long suffering Mother. Even Teddy's presence only achieved a slight lifting of her lips. These small smiles never reached her eyes.
The Slytherine spent another few minutes with the excitable boy then left for the library.
Narcissa had a large black tome open on the table before her. Draco suspected the pages had not been turned since his Mother had opened it. She was staring blankly at the rapidly darkening window, but Draco could tell she was not really seeing it.
"Mother?" Draco gently roused her. She turned to face him, but her empty expression did not change. Draco kissed her cheek in greeting and asked after her health. She half shrugged and turned back to her book, or window, Draco wasn't sure. The Malfoy patriarch nearly burst into tears at his Mother's silence. He left the library quickly, unable to bear the lingering, heavy quiet any longer. He stopped back at the drawing room to take his leave. Andromeda was not surprised.
When Draco climbed out of the fireplace in his flat he grimace. The kitchen was a mess from his half-hearted attempt at dinner, and the living room was still covered in books and crumpled pieces of parchment from his ongoing research into his mother's condition. He was highly tempted to get himself a house elf, but he didn't know if he could cope with another being in his empty flat. Even one that he didn't consider worthy of that. He sighed. Monday, he thought to himself, after the weekend rush.
He climbed into the shower. The hot, pounding water soothing the tension in his shoulders and washing the Floo grime from his skin. He hated that: the residue from the Floo. It was a necessary evil. As he rinsed the shampoo from his hair, darkened severely by the water, he caught himself thinking of Potter again. Remembering.
Again.
He sighed to himself as one of his favourite memories surfaced. It was during their returning year, after the war, when the NEWT students had been allowed to return to try again. There weren't many of them that returned. The 23 students had shared a set of dormitories, no longer split by their houses. Draco remembered the tension, at the start at least. It had been almost overwhelming. But after one particular night, involving a bottle of muggle vodka and some alcohol induced honesty, a truce had been declared. They got on well after that. One day Harry had asked Draco if he wanted to go flying, seeing as the Quidditch pitch was free for the day. Draco had jumped at the chance, not that he let Harry see that.
"Gods, you must be bored Golden Boy," Draco had sneered
"I am as it happens. But if you're too... busy, then I'll find someone else." Draco hadn't liked the tone in Harry's voice. It sounded like a challenge.
"All right Potter, you're on. You, me, and a snitch. What's the forfeit?"
"Why would we need a forfeit?"
"Gotta make it a bit more.. interesting Potter." Challenge returned.
"Alright, forfeit is, loser has to do exactly what the other wants for the rest of the day. Deal?"
"Done."
They'd spent almost 3 hours in the air that morning. Draco's stomach had been rumbling before they'd finished. Harry had won, of course, but Draco had shouted cheat. No matter that the reason he'd lost is that he'd been completely distracted by Harry's body so close to his own. Harry laughed him off and they headed to the showers. Draco had known about his sexuality then, of course, he'd been following Harry around like a spaniel for the last six months. He was surprised the brunette hadn't noticed yet. He was pleased at the prospect of being so close to a naked Harry, but was careful to hide his growing excitement. The showers had been broken by some troublesome third years the night before, and only one of the infernal things was working. Both boys were loathe to return to the castle straight from the pitch so Harry suggested they might as well share, to save waiting around. Draco's stomach had back flipped at the thought of sharing a shower with Harry. He fought hard the keep his rapidly building arousal at bay as Harry had stripped off in front of him, oblivious to the other boy's discomfort. Draco had kept an image of Snape naked in his head to keep his erection at bay, but had almost lost it when Harry's arm had brushed his abdomen. Mercifully Harry was quick in the shower and left Draco to finish up.
If only Harry had understood the implications of that. Draco smiled to himself, coming back to the present with a sigh. His cock stood to attention against his abdomen, aching slightly, as it always did when Draco thought of Harry. His hand curled tightly around his erection and he started to pump, slowly at first, imagining Harry's strong hands around him instead, remembering that perfect tanned skin, marred by the scars of the war. He remembered Harry in all his golden glory in that shower and it was not long before Draco was shuddering and moaning Harry's name as he emptied himself under the shower's pounding heat.
So there we go my lovelies. First bit of real smuttiness. More to come. Probably _
Really struggling with this, so I'm not sure when my next update will be. I do have a shiny new Mac to play with though, so I may write as an excuse to spend excess amounts of time on it ^_^
Virtual gold stars if you review. Don't even care if you flame. It'll give me something to laugh at ^_^
-Aurora