Disclaimer: Not Mine.
Notes: Originally written for aoifene's cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose was Envy. Thanks to aoifene, weasleywench and nocturnali for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's The Divine Comedy: Purgatory, Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Not another cliffie, but... dun, dun, dun...

'Kiss me, Harry'.

He was close enough to see Harry's eyes darken in desire at the demand. He wanted to watch Harry's lips as they drew close and prepared to claim Draco's own, but he couldn't stop swimming in the depths of those eyes. They entranced him; gripping like a Grindylow attached to his ankles dragging him under for the last time.

Draco stopped breathing as he leaned in, making the first move, encouraging Harry to do the same.

Whether Harry would have kissed him or not, Draco didn't know, and he cursed the thunderous applause that interrupted them ensuring he'd never find out. Kinglsey must have finished his speech; Draco didn't feel one bit guilty for not having heard a word.

Draco almost cried out at the painful wrench in his chest when Harry turned his gaze to the stage and joined in the applause. The imprint of Harry's hand was still heavy and warm on his thigh after he removed it, but it felt like cold comfort.

'Harry!' Draco hissed under his breath, determined to not let the moment go entirely.

'Not here, Draco,' Harry replied firmly. 'Not now.'

'But–' Draco stuttered, heart still thundering in his chest, lips still anticipating Harry's closing over his. He growled. Harry was not supposed to be able to resist!

Draco bit his lip to stop himself from saying something that might put Harry off altogether; in fact he had decided that it would be best if he left to calm down in the men's room, but Harry's hand reappeared on his leg, fingers splayed along the inside of Draco's thigh. Draco just about put his teeth through his lip. Harry's hand was rubbing nerves that sent thrills of sensation straight to his cock. It was all Draco could do not to slump back in his seat, spread his legs and groan, demanding Harry put his hand where it would do some good for a change.

Instead, he managed to grind out, 'You'll pay for this, Potter.'

Harry looked at him with that innocent 'who, me?' look. But Draco knew better; Draco knew that Harry could feel him squirming.

Harry's look grew intense. He leaned in and whispered in Draco's ear, 'All in good time.' A shiver went down Draco's spine, directly to his anus; he clenched, wishing speech were tangible and could give him what Harry wouldn't or couldn't.

Draco's face felt like it was burning. Harry had made him hard and uncomfortable. Sitting here for the rest of the official part of the evening was going to be torture.

Harry's hand maddeningly continued massaging circles into his skin through his robes. Draco vowed vengeance, narrowing his eyes and suppressing a hiss of arousal when Harry's finger brushed his groin. On purpose. Probably.

Someone kicked him under the table, and he looked up sharply to see Pansy grinning like an idiot. He scowled at her and she laughed and mouthed, 'On his knees,' making Draco's already aching cock twitch at the thought.

He mouthed back, 'Bitch.' She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the speech, leaving Draco to contemplate his revenge on Potter at the first opportunity.

Bastard.

And Draco had thought he might feel something for the prat, too. Standing up there on stage, probably visibly star-stuck at the point he'd had his epiphany…how stupid was he? He must have looked like a complete idiot. He'd even begun to think of Potter as Harry!

Draco gripped Potter's hand hard, knowing it must be painful by the way he inhaled. Potter turned to him, concerned, and Draco hissed under his breath. 'Your choice, Potter: either move your hand completely or get down on your knees under the table and suck my fucking cock, or I swear to Merlin that you'll regret it.'

A sharp intake of breath from behind signified that Ron was closer than he'd thought and had overheard. Luckily no one else would have been able to hear. Not that he cared about anyone else, but he might later on when he'd had the chance to calm down.

Potter's eyes widened in realisation and he quickly moved his hand away from Draco's thigh, which, despite being one of the ultimatums he'd been given, was obviously not the one Draco would have preferred.

When the audience applauded yet another speech, Potter apologised. 'If I'd known, I'd have stopped earlier,' he said, not a little flustered.

Draco took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, willing himself to think of sex with ginger bits in order to make his throbbing erection fade away. After several moments, it receded enough to allow him to behave normally.

'When we get home, we are going to have a little talk about all of this,' Draco said.

Potter nodded. 'You're probably right. I think it's about time.'

In the background, Draco could hear the announcer calling Potter's name. It must be his turn for his speech. Draco nodded. 'Go and give your speech.'

Potter stood to rousing applause and made his way onto the stage to give his speech. A speech Draco paid scant attention to, instead concentrating on willing away the final vestiges of his unfortunate erection. Bloody Potter.

Ron sat down in Potter's vacated seat and Draco felt like telling him that good guards didn't leave their posts. He refrained, though: Ron was competent, and Draco felt sure that sooner or later he was going to hear about the little scene Ron had overheard anyway. Better to get it over and done with now, and then he could get back to plotting some revenge on Potter.

'All right, get it over with,' Draco said, pre-empting Ron.

'Get what over with?'

Draco faced Ron, seeing an honestly perplexed expression on his freckled face.

'You're not going to read me the riot act about not hurting your best mate? Or the one where you tell me I'm scum for luring him away from your sister?'

Ron looked shocked. 'Why would I do that?' he asked; then added, 'Ferret,' with a smirk.

Draco considered Ron carefully. 'Why not?'

Ron gave what Draco thought to be an orchestrated shrug, as if he wasn't comfortable about being so casual. 'You already know that I'll hex you so far into next week no one will ever find you, if you hurt Harry.'

Draco realised that Ron wasn't quite so blasé about the whole thing as he pretended.

'As for my sister…' he paused, then sighed. 'There's fault on both sides there. I think…' Ron paused once more, and Draco could see him thinking. 'I think they were together because it was expected and easy,' Ron said in a rush, as if what he was saying was a betrayal in some way. 'Everything seems too nice, too easy and I can see him becoming bored with that after a while. Better to have it over and done with now rather than later when there's a marriage to dissolve and kids to think about.'

After looking at Ron for several long moments, with his mouth open in shock, Draco finally managed to say, 'Even if that means he's with me?'

Ron nodded. 'He's different with you. Oh, he wants to protect you – do his job; but he also looks at you like he can't quite work you out but that he'd like nothing more in the world than to spend his life trying.'

'And you're all right with that?'

'He's my best friend; why wouldn't I be?'

'But it's me. I'm a Malfoy. You hate me!'

'Hey, I haven't hated you since you saved my best mate's life. And we've been getting along pretty well since then. Maybe I've discovered that you're not such an evil bastard after all.'

'But–' Draco spluttered.

'But if you hurt him, I will hunt you down and make your life miserable.'

The deadly serious tone of Ron's voice stopped Draco's spluttering. He was reminded that Ron Wesley was an Auror and had gone straight to Auror training after the end of the war. He had the experience and the ability to make good on his threat.

'The only pain I intend to inflict on Harry is revenge for that little stunt he pulled earlier,' Draco lied, though it didn't feel as much of a lie as he thought it should.

He frowned as Ron snorted and bit back a laugh. 'He probably had no idea you know.'

'I don't care; the tease is going to pay for that.'

Draco noted that while they were talking, Ron continued to scan the audience, still doing his duty. He was grateful for the protection, but wondered how long it was going to continue, seeing as there had been no more attempts on his or Potter's lives.

'Why is there no progress on who attacked us?'

Ron shrugged. 'Sometimes when there isn't a clear motive for a crime, the culprit is harder to find. If there'd been credible witnesses to the first attack, we might be further along in the investigation, but seeing as no one can remember clearly what he or she looked like, then it's virtually impossible to find them.'

'I would have thought the Aurors had lists of those who had a grudge against Harry.'

'They do. As you know, we checked on them and they all seemed to have air-tight alibis.'

Draco frowned, wondering if it was the spell responsible for the attack on Potter after all. If so, there never would be a specific person to blame for it.

'Do you think it might be the same person who attacked me?' Though he'd asked this question before, he wanted confirmation that their position hadn't changed.

'We really don't know,' Ron replied, frowning. 'It seems too coincidental to not be connected, though. But while there's more traceable evidence from the attack on you, there's no other connection between the two of you prior to the attack on Harry.'

'Unless you count the incident at Madam Malkins.' Not that Draco thought Madam Malkin was responsible, but it was the only contact he'd had with Potter for years prior to that day.

'What incident is that?' Ron asked. 'Why haven't we been told about it before now?'

'It was nothing, that's why,' Draco replied. 'I was in the shop waiting to be served and when Harry arrived she insisted that she serve him first. Apparently "my kind" could wait because Harry was the hero and couldn't be expected to waste his time waiting. Harry stood up for me and told her that he wouldn't be going back there.'

Ron thought for several moments; Draco could again see him thinking. 'It's possible that she was angry enough over losing his custom that she retaliated. And then, of course, she'd blame you for it, too.'

'I'm not sure that's sufficient motivation for attempting to kill someone, though,' Draco put in.

'Maybe not, but it's about all we have at the moment. We've had no luck tracing the poison. Madam Malkin is in trade, so it'd be a simple matter for her to obtain the necessary information from overseas about any poison she wanted.'

Draco smiled. He was almost certain that she wasn't responsible, but if they still had leads to follow up, then it meant that the investigation wouldn't be wound down any time soon. That meant he'd have the pleasure of Potter's company for a good long while yet.

…..

As the evening progressed, Draco relaxed more and actually enjoyed himself. Most of the guests approached him and shook his hand, smiling and telling him what a wonderful person he was donating so much money to the orphanage, and how he was a hero by saving Harry Potter's life. Draco smiled and took it all in his stride.

There was something different about all this adulation, though. This time Draco felt rather disconnected from it all, like all their voices ran together into one blur that he'd heard a thousand times before. They weren't saying anything new, but he'd always lapped it up until now. Now it felt like background noise. That didn't detract from the buzz he felt at the attention, though.

Potter was off socialising with some of the other Weasleys; Draco had refused to spend the rest of his evening fending off threats from brothers of the ginger bits. No matter how reasonable Ron was being, he couldn't say for sure the rest of them would feel similarly.

Eventually, Draco excused himself and headed to the men's room, just for some peace and quiet, Ron, and another guard Draco could never remember the name of, in tow.

Entering the washroom, he saw Blaise standing at one of the mirrors, washing his hands. He grinned at Draco in the mirror without turning around. "Having a good evening, Draco?' he asked.

'Passable,' Draco replied, joining him at an adjacent sink and turning the tap on.

'Your speech was very well done. Did you believe a word of it?'

'Of course; what do you take me for?' Draco pretended shock. Then he grinned at Blaise. 'Actually, surprisingly enough I do believe it.'

Blaise raised an eyebrow. 'Is all that hero stuff rubbing off on you?'

Draco placed his hands under the water and rubbed them together while he thought about Blaise's question. He still hadn't told Blaise about the spell, and it had worked in a completely different way than he'd expected – not that he'd had many expectations as to how it would work – but he rather liked his life these days and he thought that perhaps his speech had some merit to it after all.

'Not rubbing off, but perhaps I just realised that everyone has to move forward sooner or later. Might not be such a bad idea if some of our other friends did the same.'

'Like?'

Draco stood and dried his hands on the self-cleaning towel hanging by the basin. 'Whoever it is trying to kill me, for one.' Draco smiled at Blaise. 'And some of our other school mates that became as isolated as we were after the war.'

Blaise nodded. 'I noticed Theo is here tonight. I saw him dancing with someone from the Ministry.'

'Really? I haven't seen him.'

'I would have pointed him out to you, but I remember he used to have the biggest crush on you and I assumed the last thing you'd want is an old school mate draping himself all over you in public.' Draco raised an eyebrow and Blaise continued. 'Potter would be likely to hex him from here to Sunday.'

'He's not that possessive,' Draco said, although he did preen a little at the thought of Potter being jealous. Perhaps that was something he could work at: the thought of seeing Potter in a jealous rage made Draco's cock twitch. Damn, he needed to get laid.

Blaise laughed. 'Possibly not, but when someone is out to kill both of you, Potter will hex first and ask questions later. And we both know Theo was always somewhat…demonstrative with his feelings.'

'Surely he's outgrown them by now?' Draco argued. "We've all grown up; that was years ago.'

Blaise shrugged. 'Don't underestimate your popularity at the moment, Draco. You could probably have your choice of partners out there tonight.'

'That thought is doing nothing for my raging libido, you bastard.'

'That's what comes of falling for a straight bloke,' Blaise retorted, shooting Draco a smirk. Draco sneered at him and turned back to the mirror, thankful Blaise was mindful they had an audience and didn't blab about his seduction plans for Potter.

'Anything worth having is worth being patient for,' Draco said, adding to himself that anyone worth doing was worth being manipulated into it. He'd been patient and waited many years after the war to reclaim his rightful place before he'd used the spell.

And Theo Nott might be just the manipulation he needed to provoke Potter and force his hand.