Title: The Well 26/26
Author: eidheann
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~1,200 (~21,000 total)
Summary: Where there is a wish...
Warnings: angst.
A/N: Wow, I think I did it. Thank you to everyone who commented and supported me through writing my first fic ever. The community is amazing, and very welcoming. Especially since I think I broke every rule of writing doing this. (I didn't use a text editor, I didn't map it out first, all my writing was done the day it was posted, I relied on spellcheck and a quick re-read instead of a beta... oy. You guys are saints.) Once again, thank you all. Without the support, I can honestly say I probably would have given up somewhere around part 2. :)
Silence would have descended in the wake of Harry's questions, were it not for the still-frantic wailing of his house elf. After a moment, however, his mother broke in "Lippy, we have a guest. We'll need a refresher on the tea, and perhaps something light to eat as well." The elf disappeared, still wailing, but muffled by the distance to the kitchen. Draco could only stare at Harry, knowing his face betrayed the confusion he was feeling. Harry didn't appear much better. He seemed to have calmed down, but Draco could detect the telltale flushing on his neck that heralded the incoming loss of temper.
Finally, impatience won out and Harry broke the renewed silence. "Will someone please tell me what's going on?" His voice and jaw were both tight, and he looked ready to start throwing hexes any moment.
Draco dropped his gaze, noting Harry hadn't bothered changing, either, as evinced by the pajama pants sticking out the bottom of his robe. Something about the fact that both he and Harry were preparing to have tea with his mother while wearing pajamas nearly caused him to start laughing, though he knew it was simply because he was dipping once again toward hysterical. Harry opened his mouth again, but was interrupted by Lippy, bearing the formal tea service and a tiered platter filled with finger sandwiches.
"How do you take your tea, Mr. Potter?"
Harry ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "Sugar and lemon, please."
His mother nodded, and gestured him toward the uncomfortable chair. Harry sat, then shifted with a grimace, finally sliding forward to sit at the very edge. She turned to Draco and waved her wand briefly, conjuring another, identically uncomfortable chair beside the first. "And get off the floor, Draco. This is hardly the way to behave in company."
Draco levered himself up off the floor, matching Harry's grimace as he also slid to the edge of the seat. His mother smirked very briefly and passed tea. "Now, then. I trust you are well, Mr. Potter?"
He closed his eyes, wishing his mother wasn't determined to make this situation as drawn out and uncomfortable for him as possible. Harry looked confused by the pleasantries. "Er, very well, thank you."
"Very good, I am pleased to hear it. It's always nice to hear those who have done you a good turn are well." Narcissa's smile was bland and she took a delicate sip of tea. "Sandwich?"
"No thank you, Mrs. Malfoy, I'm really not hungry."
"Ah, well then. Do you not like your tea, Mr. Potter?"
"What? Oh..." Harry took a hurried sip. "It's lovely, thank you."
His mother beamed, and he wisely looked more worried. Draco kept quiet and hoped his mother's attention would remain off him. "Excellent. Now Mr. Potter, may I call you Harry?"
"Of course, Mrs. Malfoy."
"Then you really must call me Narcissa."
She paused a moment before he replied "Of course Narcissa."
She took another sip of her tea, her smile once again turning bland. "Now, Harry, I must ask you what your intentions are toward my son."
Harry coughed, and Draco wished he could vanish himself. "Pardon, Mrs. Malfoy?"
She tsked, "Narcissa. If we are going to be close, you will need to accustom yourself. What are your intentions toward Draco?"
Harry looked bemusedly between Narcissa's bland smile and Draco's painfully flushed face. "I love him."
His mother leaned back, her posture relaxing slightly. "And this article in the Prophet was an intentional outing on your part?"
"I hadn't really thought it through that much... I mean, I didn't plan it, but I don't care what they say as long as they're not accusing Draco of anything."
"And your friends were... upset to learn it this way?"
Harry's head swiveled to Draco, frustration back in an instant. "Is that what this is about? Merlin, Draco! You thought they were going to talk me out of this?"
Draco slumped in his chair, back and shoulders curling up and stared into his tea.
"I must admit," his mother broke in, "it is quite a shock to find out such important things about those we love via the Daily Prophet."
Harry's attention remained focused on Draco. "Ron was upset, yeah. Hermione was kinda surprised, but only because it appeared in the Prophet at all. She's going to talk Ron around."
Draco's head shot up. "What?"
"I said, which you would know if you had stuck around like I thought you were planning on instead of up and disappearing and closing your floo so I couldn't reach you, that Hermione's fine with it. She'll bring Ron around."
"Granger's fine with it?" He knew he was repeating himself, but he didn't feel capable of anything else.
"Hermione Granger-Weasley is fine with it. With us. This."
"Well then, I don't see where there's a problem." His mother frowned fiercely at them. "Except, of course, the part where you leave us to learn about the important things in your lives through the Daily Prophet." She set her tea down on the table beside her and stood, smoothing her robes. "And I shut the floo when I arrived, Mr. Potter. I believe Draco was in the shower at the time. Now, if you two will excuse me, I shall be returning to Italy and letting you two sort out... this."
She waved her wand at the fireplace, then gathered some powder from the jar on the mantle. "Oh, Draco dear? Do keep me informed. And remember to shut your floo should you need it." She smiled warmly at them before disappearing into the green flames.
Harry stood immediately, rubbing his lower back and glaring at the chair before turning the glare on Draco. "So you thought I was going to abandon you again, and you weren't even going to give me the chance not to, is that it?"
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but what came out instead was, "you had tea with my mother in your pajamas."
He winced and covered his mouth with his hand as Harry stared at him a moment before his lips began twitching. It only took a moment before he was laughing. "I had tea with your mum in my pajamas. You had tea with your mum in your pajamas!"
"Oh Merlin." His face felt hot, and he knew he was likely red as a Weasley. He wished he'd taken the time to put on more than the robe and slippers. As it was, he felt very exposed when Harry approached and ran his fingers through his still-damp hair.
"I wish you would trust me." His voice was quiet. "When I realized you weren't just hiding out upstairs, I was terrified. I thought I'd lost you."
Draco stood from the uncomfortable chair as well, burying his face in Harry's shoulder. "I was afraid. I panicked. I couldn't just wait there while you were taken away again."
"I'm not going to be 'taken away' again. I can promise that much." Draco leaned against Harry, and Harry wrapped his arms around him, running his hand soothingly up and down his back. After a few moments, Harry's hand paused at his waist and he snickered. "We had tea with your mum in pajamas... but you're not wearing pants."