DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter Sixteen - Surrender and Sacrifice
Burgundy line into a cream-colored curve, then down another horizontal line of a faded teal; his fingers followed the pattern by rote. When the digits reached the edge of the Persian rug, they absently smoothed over the hardwood before resuming their course, never losing the pattern despite numerous scorch marks. A muted sound roused him from his idle tracing, stilling his fingers on an upward stretch of cream. Without moving from his sprawled position on the old carpet, Harry opened his eyes to mere slits, brow furrowing.
In an attempt to ensure his relative compliance and newfound docility, charms had been placed around Grimmauld Place to mute outside noise and muffle conversations between Order members. So far, this tactic had done nothing but irritate Harry and challenge the wolf's senses. Now, he focused his attention downward, holding his breath in an attempt to identify the individuals conversing in the kitchen. His attention waned as he identified the usual Order members, dismissing their exchange as nothing of consequence. Giving a snort of disgust, he closed his eyes and placed his fingers at the beginning of the pattern on the Persian rug, resuming the mindless task of tracing the worn pattern.
His heart stuttered when a sound nearly pierced his ear drum, the shockingly familiar bay bringing his head up off the floor. With a sharp gasp, he pressed his ear back to the rug, his fingers curling into fists. Draco! He could have sworn that was Draco's voice. Teeth buried in his lower lip, he focused every molecule of his being on the whisper of voices, locking onto that arrogant drawl like it contained the key to his prison. A soft huff of laughter escaped him when the demanding tone repeated, the words inaudible but the voice achingly familiar.
The wide smile that had blossomed on Harry's face faded as realization set in with the wolf's displeased growl. There was no way the Order would release him; and most certainly not into the custody of Draco Malfoy. If anything, the blond would end up in a cage next to his, or worse - Azkaban. His eyes snapped closed and he drew a sharp breath, his entire body stiffening in denial. In the confusion of the collapsed farmhouse, he'd sacrificed himself so the blond could remain free. And now Draco had fucked it all up by walking right into the arms of the Order.
"Fuck, Malfoy," Harry hissed between his teeth, dropping his forehead to the floor. He was grinding his teeth angrily, wondering how things could possibly get any worse, when a savage snarl rent the air, the sound a promise of death. Panic struck him then, dragged his head from the floor and had his eyes desperately searching for some means of escape. It was all in vain, of course, because the Order hadn't yet forgotten to lock his cage. And the bars were still a menacing silver surrounding him completely, their presence the only thing keeping him from freedom.
Not completely surrounded, the wolf whispered slyly.
Harry felt his gaze tugged to the faded rug beneath his knees, the wolf's words becoming increasingly clear the longer he stared at the floor. There were no bars below the boards, no silver to burn his fingers. Scrabbling across the floor, Harry yanked the carpet aside, running his palms over the smooth boards almost desperately. His fingers traced each edge and joint, searching for a loose or warped plank that could be pried free. With nails already chewed to the quick, he dug hopelessly at the wood, growing more and more despondent with every passing second. After what seemed like minutes but had to be seconds, he stopped his frantic search, his hands stilling. He couldn't pry the boards apart.
But I could. The wolf breathed, flexing its paws within Harry's mind. A flash of wickedly curved nails tearing wood apart followed, the image accompanied by a great deal of confidence.
Harry caught his breath, freezing at the implications. He'd been told it was possible, that being Jaime's First Bitten gave him abilities outside the normal inherent werewolf talents. But to surrender to the wolf, to give the beast complete control of their body . . . it was something he'd never considered. The wolf was a bloody menace; its reasoning was questionable, its morals even more so. Inhaling slowly, he closed his eyes and dropped his head onto his forearms, carefully weighing their options. Options that were nonexistent. With a heavy exhale, he fisted his hands and gave an almost imperceptible bob of his head, gritting his teeth at the triumphant wail the beast released.
In a powerful explosion, the wolf plunged toward the surface, casting aside its chains and shoving Harry ruthlessly out of its path, ripping free of its prison with a piercing howl. The pain was fierce and immediate, a shock that was gone before the system had time to absorb its existence. The crack of bone and the groan of ligament was impossibly loud inside his skull, the sound nothing compared to the burst of pain that heralded the elongation of wickedly sharp fangs. Panic clasped him tightly, doubt clouding his thoughts a moment too late as the wolf seized complete control.
Buried deep within the wolf's skull, Harry could only watch as the animal gave a testing stretch before raking thick nails across the floor boards. The noise was horrendous, causing him to wince internally, but the wolf dismissed the sound. Charms cast by the Order to prevent them from being overheard would now work in the werewolf's favour, concealing the rending and cracking of long dry wood as the floor was peeled apart board by board. The wolf used its powerful jaws to tug aside broken bits of the floor, ignoring the prick of small splinters that worked their way into his gums. Within minutes, the wolf had created a hole big enough to fit its upper body through, sliding carefully between the rafters until its paws rested lightly on the ceiling below the silver cage.
In a shower of plaster, the wolf dropped downward, landing in a hunched crouch amidst splintered wood and flecks of white. He straightened and gave a quick shake, flicking dust and a snowy powder from his dark coat. Free of the cage and the charms cast upon it, the voices emerging from the back kitchen were easily identified, the very sound of Remus and Dumbledore raising the wolf's hackles and ringing a growl from its throat. Immediately all thought of escape was pushed aside, replaced by the tempting image of bodies strewn across the kitchen floor, bloody and lifeless. The thought filled the beast with pleasure, parting its jaws in a toothy smile.
Just get Draco and get out, the boy whispered through the wolf's skull. With a flick of an ear and a dismissive grumble, the black wolf prowled toward the disturbance occurring at the back of the house. He sniffed delicately, listening to the flow of conversation, assuming at least one of the individuals besides Draco had heard his escape. Paws silent on the creaky boards, the beast slunk forward, sliding down the dark corridors, moving toward the narrow line of light passing beneath the kitchen door. Now, standing before the closed portal, the voices were crystal clear. Snape, Dumbledore, Remus, Molly, and Draco. Two against four. Four Order members against two young werewolves . . . good odds.
"You must release Hermione, Mister Malfoy."
"I simply can't do that," replied Draco. The words were spoken in an arrogant drawl, the tone firm and resolute.
It was the witch's name that caused the wolf to flinch ever so slightly, a face flashing through its mind unexpectedly. Fondness and love accompanied the image, the emotions belonging to the boy, but understood by the wolf. To Harry, the witch had been Pack; a friend and comrade who shared both their victories and their defeats. To the wolf, her current presence within Grimmauld Place was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. One easily dealt with, the beast mused, ignoring the internal outcry the thought caused.
Shadow, the black wolf, placed his nose against the swinging door and gently applied pressure, easing the panel open as he stalked forward into the brightly lit kitchen. The squeak of the hinges turned six faces in his direction, the expressions on them varying from terrified to delighted at his unexpected appearance. Curling lips back from glistening fangs, the wolf growled as it pressed further into the room, the sound wringing whimpers of fear from both witches.
"Harry," Draco breathed over Hermione's head. The blond stood with his back against the door that led out into the backyard, his wand in one hand and the witch's throat in the other. With silver orbs glowing eerily, Draco eyed his lupine Packmate appreciatively.
"Mister Potter," Dumbledore said softly, his voice wary - and for once - oddly uncertain. The Hogwarts Headmaster rose slowly to his feet, using one hand on top of the table to aid him, his gaze never leaving the slinking form of the wolf. "I must ask you to return upstairs. In your current condition you could cause-"
Releasing a spine tingling snarl, the dark wolf lunged forward, snapping fangs threateningly. Shadow maintained the rasping growl, narrowed eyes shifting between Remus and Dumbledore, Draco completely forgotten for the moment. His gaze sought wands, calculating the odds of attacking the quartet without receiving a serious injury in the close space. He flattened his ears at the results, disliking his chances. Still, he couldn't help but run his tongue across his lips, the gesture easily menacing.
"Why bother trying, Albus," Remus hissed, slashing a hand at the huge wolf. "That's not Harry. The Harry we know can't even hear you right now."
"Come, Harry," Draco barked, wand twitching slightly, the gesture as come hither as one could make it while holding three powerful wizards at bay. The blond's gaze skipped from Snape to Dumbledore to Remus, drifting to Molly every other sweep, his body growing more tense with every passing minute. The longer they dallied, the greater the chance of another Order member arriving unannounced. When emerald orbs flicked in his direction, he almost flinched, the hostility in the wolf's gaze surprising. Curling a lip of his own, Draco growled softly, pinning the dark wolf with a warning glare. "It's time to leave."
Shadow stopped growling, considering the blond with narrowed orbs. His muzzle swung back toward Remus, carefully considering his options. As much as he'd like to destroy the Order within the house he'd once gifted to them, the other wolf was right - it was time to leave. Giving one last defiant growl in the direction of the quartet, the big black wolf prowled toward Draco, bushy tail lifting in an arrogant sweep. His ears caught the whisper soft rasp of cloth at the same time he saw Draco flinch, the wand the blond clutched jerking upright and a spat hex flying from his mouth.
Liquid quick, Shadow dropped, the charm that should have ensnared him crashing harmlessly into the wall above his head in a flash of pink magic. As Draco fired off another spell and ducked out the door, still dragging Hermione with him, the black wolf sprang to his paws and leapt after the blond, yelping when something struck his hindquarters. The muscles in his backside went numb unexpectedly, spilling him onto the floor and sending him tumbling into the paneling. Jaws parting around a savage howl, he twisted, trying to clamber to his feet, and failing. Thoughts of the cage raced through his mind, the memories spurring him into struggling forward, front paws sliding gracelessly on the smooth wood. Boots pounded across the floor behind him at the same time a pale hand reached around the edge of the door and latched onto his ruff, yanking him free of Grimmauld Place.
"Apparating," Draco barked.
The advance warning gave Shadow a chance to free his mind of stray thoughts or locations that might interfere in the transition. Seconds later, he was spilled across a cold marble floor, his still limp hind end colliding with a wall crafted of pale gray stone. Panting heavily, he ignored the fingers curled into the thick fur of his ruff, head thumping lightly on the floor as the adrenaline that had gotten him free slowly wore off.
You've done your part, the boy breathed through the wolf's head. Now give over.
Curling a lip, the wolf fought the wizard's pull for a moment, but ultimately surrendered. Slinking back to his place within Harry's head, Shadow allowed himself to fade until he was nothing more than a thought. A very tired memory.
Lifting a very human hand, Harry wiggled his fingers in front of his face before sighing heavily and dropping his palm onto his sternum. His chest rose and fell beneath his hand, the beat slowly steadying until it was normal. He stared blankly at the rafters before turning his head, his brow furrowing at the spill of bushy brown hair that met his gaze. The hand on his chest slid up and covered his eyes, a groan of disbelief spilling over his lips.
"Draco, what did you do?" He asked his palm. The answer came from his other side, the cool voice tilting his head, emerald orbs meeting twin spheres of icy gray.
"What I had to do," the blond muttered, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. He crouched there before reaching out and curling fingers around Harry's upper arm, yanking the dark-haired male closer. Giving a whisper soft growl, he dropped his chest across Harry's, planting his palm on the floor next to dark-haired male's head. Slowly, he lowered his face until they were almost nose to nose, watching the emerald orbs widen perceptibly. "Let's not talk about me. No, let's talk about you and your penchant for idiocy. Sacrificing yourself so I could get away . . . if you ever - ever - do anything so stupid again, I'll tear your throat out!" By the time he reached the end of his sentence he was yelling, obviously deeply affected by everything that had occurred.
Harry blinked once, surprised at the vehemence in Draco's voice, and then he got angry. "Me? You're questioning my idiocy? You just stormed into the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix with no plan, no back-up, and using a witch as a shield!" His hands darted up and latched on to the collar of the blond's robes, giving him forceful shake. "What the fuck were you thinking?"
"Did you think I'd just let you go?" Draco growled back. The fingers of his free hand knotted in the dark-haired male's hair, tightening perceptibly until he jerked Harry's head back, exposing the pale length of throat. He gave a light growl when Harry's fingers shifted from his collar to his throat, the digits cool against his warm skin. "Since the day I first met you, you've been rushing head long into stupidity. You've risked your life countless times for the sake of the Wizarding World and your friends. You're done sacrificing yourself for others." The last was said in a hiss.
"Me?" Harry spat again, fingers tightening on the robes a little more. He stopped gathering cloth when the backs of his knuckles began to rub Draco's throat, giving a soft growl when the blond tried to pull away. "What makes me more valuable than you?" He held the blond's gaze, seeing incomprehension in the silver orbs and ignoring the warning flash of fangs the other male shot at him. In all fairness, it was an honestly asked question, and one he didn't expect an answer to.
Blinking, Draco gave another lilting growl, sighing when the dark-haired male merely arched brows in response. He lowered his head and rested his forehead against Harry's, closing his eyes, uncomfortable with the emotions the question raised. With a breathy exhale, he answered the other werewolf's inquiry. "You're Harry-fuckin'-Potter," Draco mumbled, his eyes still closed.
"And how long are you going to hold that against me?" Harry demanded..
Draco gave a soft snort of laughter, lifting his head to meet Harry's emerald orbs, a small smile playing across his face. "Forever," he whispered.
A soft scuff and scrape separated the pair, their heads jerking in the direction of the noise while identical growls spilled over bared teeth. Blinking, Harry studied Hermione and the wand she clutched tightly, the tip wobbling threatening up and down. His hands tightened on Draco's collar once more before slipping up and over the blond's shoulders, stroking soothingly. "Perhaps now would be a good time for tea," he murmured, easing the other male aside, ignoring the warning look the blond shot him.
The witch's expression darkened, her lips compressing into a hard line. "I won't drink anything that scheming . . . Slytherin prepares," Hermione growled. Her eyes pinned Draco with a baleful stare, the wand she held shifting to hold steady on the blond as he pushed away from Harry and rose.
"Really, Draco?" Harry mumbled, rolling over slowly and rising with a groan. The tingling in his legs began to fade as he moved, whatever spell he'd been struck with finally dissipating. He frowned when the witch swung around quickly, giving him her back. His own cheeks flushed when Draco chuckled softly and tossed him the black cloak he'd been wearing, understanding dawning at the same time goosebumps raced across his bare skin. "Sorry," he said, swirling the dark length around his shoulders, thankful that the cloth still held the warmth from the blond's body.
"Granger would never have told me where they were keeping you without a little taste of Veritaserum," the blond called as he exited the room. He reappeared a second later, cradling several logs in his arms. Shooting Hermione a dark look of his own, he tossed the wood into the fireplace and lit it with a firmly spoken word. "I went to Hogwarts to . . . borrow Snape and stumbled upon your little witch dangling her leg over the Owlry bridge." He snatched the heavy iron kettle off the mantle and once again left the room, but not before shooting the witch a smug smirk.
Gaping at Draco's departing back, Harry whipped around and peered at Hermione, taking in her pale face and quivering lower lip. "Hermione, what were you thinking?" He snapped, spinning to face the witch completely while trying to ignore the wand she now held directed at his chest. They stared at each other, werewolf and witch, neither giving in to the potential threat the other presented. "Put it down, please," he said, taking a steadying breath to keep himself calm.
With a sob, the witch's arm dropped to her side, the wand dangling loosely in her grasp. As if the events of the last ten minutes had finally sunk in, Hermione dropped to her knees and dipped her chin, the tangled knot of her hair falling over her face. Quietly, she wept, the sound echoing loudly in the cavernous room. "I don't know what to do anymore," she cried, lifting her face and peering at Harry with tear glazed eyes.
Harry stood perfectly still for a moment before crossing to the witch on silent feet, lowering himself carefully to the marble floor and wrapping his arms around Hermione's shoulders. He patted her lightly on the back while staring into the fire Draco had started, pondering the little snippet the blond had gleefully imparted while watching the flames leap and skip. When her sobs quieted, he shifted his hands to her upper arms and eased her back, absently brushing her hair off her tear stained cheeks. "I think you'd better tell me what's been happening since I've been gone."
Hermione sniffled and wiped her face on the sleeve of her robes, refusing to lift her face and meet the eerie emerald orbs intently studying her. "I don't even know," she rasped. Drawing a shaky breath, she raised her chin and took in the face of her friend, studying the once familiar features. "Oh, Harry," she said with a sniffle, "how I've missed you."
The dark-haired wizard gave a small smile and tugged the witch to her feet, looking around the chamber for a place to sit down close to the fire. Finding nothing within proximity of the fire's warmth, he released Hermione and crossed to a settee faded by time to a pale blue, effortlessly dragging it within range of the heat cast by the flickering flames. "Sit," he ordered softly, gaze shifting from the witch to the doorway as Draco reappeared, kettle heaped with snow in hand. "Where are we?"
"Safe," Draco replied, eyeing Hermione carefully. He settled the kettle amidst the red embers before giving Harry his complete attention. "No one will think to look for us here . . . at least not right away." A lengthy silence followed as Harry and Draco simply stared at each other, searching for signs of injury or illness. With a blink and a slight grin, the blond turned and once again swept toward the portal, slowing only when Harry made a noise and abandoned Hermione to follow him.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked, studying Draco suspiciously. He snagged the sleeve of the blond's robe, halting him in his tracks. The gray eyes that dropped first to his fingers and then shifted to his face were clearly amused.
Giving a light laugh, Draco tugged his sleeve from Harry's grasp and settled a hand on his shoulder, digits squeezing in reassurance. "There's no food here and we need to eat." He released the dark-haired male and took a step back, his gaze flicking over Harry's shoulder to study the witch hovering in the shadows. With a faint baring of teeth, he gave Granger a small dip of his chin before spinning about on the heel of his boots. "I'll return shortly. Deal with your witch while I'm gone, because she's leaving when I get back."
"Be careful, Draco." Harry murmured, taking several steps after the blond as if unwilling to let the blond out of his sight. He gave a small wag of his head at the nonchalant wave of fingers Draco gave him before disappearing through another doorway. A frown on his face, Harry turned and regarded Hermione with concern. "You're shivering," he noted, crossing the distance between them to shepherd her back to the front room and the warmth of the fire burning there.
Frowning, Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the portal Malfoy had vanished through before turning her gaze to Harry. "What's going on between you and . . . Draco?" She asked, the confusion she felt obvious in her tone. Her eyes caught the sudden flush of colour that appeared upon Harry's cheeks, the change lifting her brows.
"Nothing," Harry practically yelped. The startled look the witch shot him had him groaning softly and flopping down onto the settee, wrapping the dark cloak tightly around his body before dropping his head into his hands and rubbing his face. "It's hard to explain," he amended. With a heavy exhale, he lifted his face and glanced at the witch, offering her a bemused smile.
"You could try," suggested Hermione, folding her arms across her chest and huddling deeper into the stained school robes she wore.
"I don't think so," Harry replied, rising and crossing to the fireplace. He dropped to his knees on the marble hearth , wrapping his hand in the dark fabric of the cloak and quickly easing the kettle off the fiery embers. Rising smoothly, he rifled through the jumble of cups, plates, and jars assembled on the mantle, selecting two dainty teacups and a canister of tea leaves. "Why don't you tell me what Draco was talking about instead." His gaze darted to the witch before returning to the task of preparing the tea, neatly going through the motions.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione murmured sadly. She stared at the hands she'd folded in her lap before lifting her gaze to the dark-haired male across the room, flinching at the eerie glow of his emerald eyes in the wavering light from the fireplace. "After you . . . left, I was all alone. Luna still speaks with me - and Hagrid, of course. But everyone else . . . I've been completely ostracized since you disappeared." She sniffled softly and lifted a hand to brush her cheek, offering Harry a small smile.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Harry said in a muted voice. He rose and crossed the short distance between them, offering her one of the cups before sitting down next to her, turning his upper body to face her while carefully keeping his lap covered. "I didn't realize . . . "
A soft laugh escaped the witch and she shook her head ruefully. "I didn't think it would be like this," she said, staring down into the teacup. She lifted the steaming liquid and took a careful sip, wincing at the bitterness of the brew. "I feel like I'm back in First Year . . . having to prove myself to everyone." She took another sip, unable to stop from grimacing at the taste.
Smiling at the expression, Harry gave a slow lift of his shoulders. "No milk or sugar," he said apologetically. Dropping his gaze, he stared down into his own cup, not knowing how to help the witch in this. She had stood by him when he needed a friend and now, due to the circumstances, he was unable to give her the same support. "Hermione, you'll always be the smartest witch in our Year at Hogwarts. Someday, you'll be the smartest witch somewhere else . . . somewhere where you're not connected with Harry Potter or the massacre at Hogwarts. I know it doesn't help now . . . but it's something." He wondered if he sounded as lame to the witch as he did to himself.
"It seems so hopeless," Hermione whispered. She cradled the teacup between her hands, watching the steam rise off the slowly cooling liquid. With another sniffle, she lifted her face and forced a smile to her lips. "Though that is an inspired thought."
Harry smiled apologetically, reaching out to place a hand on the witch's forearm. "Just please don't do anything stupid, Hermione. If you truly can't stand it . . . owl me and we'll figure something out," Harry said.
"She's not staying with us!" Draco's voice carried from the back of the house, the mild tone bringing a grin to Harry's face.
Hermione gave the dark-haired male an odd look and rose to her feet slowly. She placed the teacup on the floor before smoothing both hands down the front of her robes, momentarily easing away the wrinkles that had developed over the last few hours. "I should probably go back . . ." She glanced around uncertainly, taking a few steps in the direction of the doorway but stilling when Draco stepped out of the shadows beyond, the scowl he wore causing her to backpedal.
"You most definitely should," Draco said in reply. He slowly crossed the room, giving the witch a side glance as he closed the distance between himself and Harry. The blond gave a light growl when the dark-haired male lifted a single brow, the sound causing the witch to flinch and release a quiet squeak.
Shooting Draco a chiding look, Harry rose and handed the blond his empty teacup, closing the distance between himself and the witch to wrap his arms around her in a fierce hug. "Remember what I said, Hermione," he whispered in her ear before releasing her. He took a small step back and bumped into Draco, the blond's hands falling to rest on his shoulders.
"It would be greatly appreciated if you forgot this place existed," Draco all but growled. He gave Harry's shoulders a tight squeeze, the motion silencing any protest the raven-haired werewolf may have voiced. At the witch's tense nod, he smiled faintly and lowered his gaze to he tangle of shaggy locks below his chin, dismissing her without a second glance.
"Goodbye, Harry," Hermione murmured, pulling her wand out. She gave the pair one last look before vanishing with a pop.
For a moment, the pair simply stood there, frozen, staring at the now empty space the witch had occupied. With a soft sigh, Harry slipped free of Draco's grasp, turning smoothly to face the blond. Alone now, without Hermione's scrutinizing looks, the dark-haired werewolf simply stared at the blond, taking in the shadowed eyes and rumpled clothes. "I was worried you'd been captured," he murmured, his gaze locking with liquid silver orbs.
Draco shifted, lifting a hand to comb fingers through his hair. "No, but they took Jaime." He exhaled long and loud, the sigh punctuated by the protesting rumble of his stomach. His cheeks reddened at the sound and he dropped a hand to cover his belly. Clearing his throat, he lifted his brows questioningly. "Breakfast?"
Harry smiled at the hopeful tone in the blond's voice, though he was still digesting the news that Jaime had been taken. It made him wonder about everything the Order had told him, but he found himself dreading the answer to next question he needed to ask. Drawing a short breath, he nodded at Draco's request, forcing a smile to his lips. "Kitchen?"
"This way," Draco rasped, turning and leading the way from the fire lit chamber. He glanced back over his shoulder, reading the indecision and concern on the other male's face, already knowing what was coming. "Greyback was killed in the attack on the Glen. Neither Steve nor Andrej saw what happened."
The information, although truthful, caused Harry little distress; he'd already had days to accept Fenrir's death. It was the information about Jaime that had him internally howling, the wolf baying in protest. Aware of Draco's close scrutiny, he forced calmness upon himself, straightening his knotted fingers and breathing deeply, pushing the beast back within its cage. "So what's the plan?" He asked the blond's back. His gaze swept the chamber, taking in the small pile of offerings Draco had assembled on the counter.
"There isn't one," Draco replied. "Yet," he added at the sharp look Harry pinned him with. He hopped up to perch on the edge of the counter, his gaze tracking the dark-haired male's movements. His stomach rumbled again as his mouth watered, already anticipating the first decent meal he'd consume since the battle at the Glen.
"I thought Jaime would be the Pack's priority, " Harry murmured, gesturing at the small cook stove with the wand Draco passed him. He slid the length of wood into his pocket without a second glance, not concerned with whether it was his, Draco's, or some strangers from the street. With movements made smooth from years of practice, the raven-haired werewolf cracked eggs into one pan and dropped slices of bread into another, placing both on the red hot top of the stove.
"He was the Pack's priority," Draco reaffirmed, accepting the slightly bruised pear the other male passed him. "But he wasn't mine." He took a bite of the fruit, savouring the taste as delicious smells began to waft about the room. His stomach growled again, the simple dish Harry was cooking making his mouth water.
Harry flicked a confused glance at Draco, hands stilling as he watched the blond lick pear juice from his lips. Cheeks flushing, he jerked his gaze back to the pan of eggs he was frying. "Jaime should have been your priority. He's just a little boy. He's probably terrified right now." The raven-haired male frowned at the disgruntled look Draco pinned him with, giving a small shake of his head.
"Jaime has an entire Pack to worry about him. And I'm sure you'll insist on joining them as soon as possible . . . however, if I hadn't rescued you - risking my own hide in the process, might I add - you'd still be sitting in a cage twiddling your thumbs." Draco snapped, appearing vaguely insulted that Harry was growling about the choice he'd made in saving him.
Hearing the hurt in Draco's voice, Harry turned to face him, nearly sighing at the expression on the blond's face. Biting his lip, he quickly pulled the eggs and toast off the stove, setting them on the counter before dishing it onto plates he'd found in one of the cupboards. Drawing a deep breath, he offered the plate to Draco, continuing to hold the porcelain even once the blond had accepted the dish. Without a second though, he leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Draco's lips, getting a sweet taste of pear before relinquishing the plate into the blond's grasp and grabbing his own to flee the room. Even as he felt the tips of his ears redden, he heard the blond's delighted laugh echo in the empty kitchen, the sound bringing a small self satisfied smile to his face.
A/n: Thank you, as always, to all the wonderful reviews. Your continued comments and excitement over this story is what keeps me writing. That, and the realization that I began writing this story over six years ago . . . wow, CV, get your tail in motion!