Smoochfest fic: Once a Malfoy
Title: Once a Malfoy
Author LJ Name: enchanted_jae
Prompt Number: #138
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, multiple others comprised of HP characters and ocs
Summary: Months after their divorce, Draco requests a huge favor from Harry.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Fluff + Angst = Flangst
Epilogue compliant? No
Word Count: 12,400
Author's Notes: This plot has been percolating in my mind for ages, and when I saw a prompt that matched it so perfectly, I was thrilled to claim it!
The Floo in Harry's quarters flared to life, and he looked up from the essays he was marking to see his ex-husband's face dancing in the flames.
"Hello, Harry."
"Hello, Draco," Harry greeted with a smile, genuinely pleased to see him.
"May I come through?"
"Of course," said Harry. "You know my Floo is always open to you."
Draco's face disappeared, and a moment later he stepped through the enlarged fireplace in a flash of green. Draco brushed at some soot that had the temerity to land on his shoulders.
Harry couldn't help but grin at the familiar gesture. "Have a seat," he invited. "Would you care for something to drink?"
"Tea would be lovely, thank you," Draco replied, choosing an elegant, straight-backed chair. "How are your DADA classes going?"
"Splendidly," said Harry. He already had a pot of hot water waiting, so it was a simple task to pour some into a cup, add a bag of Earl Grey, and place two sugars on Draco's saucer before handing it to him.
"You remember how I take my tea?"
"Draco, we were married for six years, and we've only been divorced for eight months," said Harry. "Of course, I remember."
Draco refrained from comment as he allowed the tea to steep. He dropped the sugar in his cup and stirred it. "Are you seeing anyone?" he finally asked, head still bent to his task.
Oh, Godric, thought Harry. He's found someone he's serious about, and he wanted to let me know before I read about it in the Prophet. Aloud, Harry said, "I've been too busy with my students. Besides, there's little opportunity to meet someone at Hogwarts, although Hagrid did offer..."
Harry allowed his voice to trail off and watched Draco expectantly. He wasn't disappointed.
Draco's head snapped up, an expression of utter revulsion stamped on his features. When he saw the smirk on Harry's face, Draco scowled at him. "You're taking the piss," he accused.
Harry laughed, and it felt good. He and Draco hadn't laughed together for over a year. Harry refreshed his own cup of tea and pushed the essays aside. "Why the sudden interest in my personal life?"
"I have a favor to ask."
Harry waited politely for Draco to continue.
Draco squared his shoulders. "Grandmère's birthday is coming up," he said. "She's going to be one hundred."
"Granny Annemarie is turning one hundred?!" Harry cried, sitting forward. Of Draco's family, his great-grandmother Annemarie Malfoy was Harry's favorite. He adored the feisty old witch, and she had taken an instant liking to Harry, as well.
"I'll be sure to send her a music box," said Harry. He'd given one to Annemarie on a lark once, and she was utterly fascinated by it. Harry had gifted her with music boxes ever since.
"That would be lovely, Harry, thank you," said Draco. "However, I didn't come here simply to prod you into buying Grandmère a gift. My great-aunt Antoinette and her family are planning a gala celebration, and I'd like you to attend with me."
Harry remembered Antoinette from the day of his wedding. She was a dour old witch, and even Lucius seemed intimidated by her. Annemarie was the only person who remained unfazed by her waspish daughter. Still, Harry could tolerate an evening in Antoinette's presence for the sake of seeing Annemarie again.
"I'm quite sure I can accommodate you, Draco," Harry said. "When is the party? I'll clear the date on my calendar."
Draco stirred his tea again; an indication that he was nervous. Had Harry misread the situation? Was Draco taking someone else as his date?
"Draco?" Harry prodded. Draco peered up at Harry in that endearing fashion of his when he was about to resort to wheedling to get his way. It made Harry's heart ache in a way he hadn't anticipated, and he had a sinking feeling he was about to agree to anything that Draco asked of him.
"Grandmère has requested an unconventional celebration," Draco began. "The family is treating her to a ten-day cruise aboard my cousin Andre's yacht."
"Andre?" Harry's voice sounded weak to his own ears. "Isn't he the one who married Parkinson?"
"I know it's an awful lot to ask, Harry, and I wouldn't have done so at all, but you know how Grandmère adores you, and she doesn't know we're divorced, and she expects-"
"You didn't tell her we got divorced?!"
Draco winced. "Yes, Harry, I told her, but the woman is nearly a hundred years old! She's getting a trifle dotty, and she seems to have forgotten that we are no longer married. She told me she can't wait to see you again and that she was disappointed you didn't make it to the family Yule celebration."
"She remembered I wasn't with you during the hols, but she can't recall why?!"
"Harry, please," Draco cajoled. "It's only for ten days, it will be after the end of term, and you'll make an old woman very happy."
Harry wasn't sure he could survive being that close to Draco for such an extended period of time. Their divorce had been amicable enough, but it left Harry with a broken heart. He still missed Draco, but the pain had gradually lessened to a dull ache. Spending ten days pretending to be happily married might break Harry's heart all over again.
As Harry waged an internal war, Draco spoke again. "Harry, I know it's a lot to ask, but-"
Harry held up one hand and sighed. "I'll do it."
***
Harry arrived via Floo at Draco's office in London. He staggered a little as he exited the Floo, and Draco snickered.
"Honestly, Harry! I can't believe Floo travel still confounds you so."
"I was raised by Muggles, you prat," Harry countered, brushing soot from his hair.
"Our Portkey to Barcelona will activate in less than ten minutes," said Draco, getting down to business. "Did you have a chance to go over the itinerary? Did you remember to buy Grandmère a gift?"
"Yes, on both counts," Harry replied. In spite of the circumstances, he was looking forward to the cruise. He hadn't had a proper holiday since early in his marriage.
Draco set the Portkey on his desk and gestured for Harry to approach. "Our wedding rings," Draco blurted.
"Sorry?" Harry prompted.
"Grandmère will notice if we aren't wearing our rings," said Draco. He moved past Harry and rummaged in the top drawer of his desk. Draco retrieved an old, velvet jeweler's box and opened it. He withdrew the matching rings that he and Harry placed on one another's fingers during their wedding ceremony. Harry had returned his to Draco after their divorce, knowing it was a family heirloom. Draco withdrew his ring and put it on, then handed Harry the mate to it.
As Harry slipped the ring on his left finger, his throat tightened. Growing apart suddenly seemed like the most absurd reason to give up on a marriage. Harry cleared his throat. "Draco, I-"
"They still fit," Draco interrupted, smiling in delight. "It's time, Harry. Put your hand on the Portkey. You know how Grandmère hates to be kept waiting."
***
"This is your cousin's yacht?" Harry exclaimed. "Does he not realize how inappropriate the name is?!"
Harry was horrified to see that Andre's yacht was named Belle de Mer. It sounded far too close to Voldemort for Harry's peace of mind.
"I am quite certain that Andre did not purposely name his yacht to cause you anxiety, Harry," said Draco. "As you recall, that branch of the family was safely ensconced in France during the war, and they were supremely unaffected by it all."
"Didn't Parkinson try to talk him out of it?"
"Pansy did try to suggest other names, but Andre wouldn't have it."
Harry side-eyed his ex-husband, but Draco's expression remained serene. "Fine," said Harry. "I'll go aboard, but I don't like it."
"Duly noted, Harry."
They strolled up the gangplank and boarded the yacht.
"Draco, darling!"
Harry turned his head to see Pansy Parkinson-Desjardins bearing down on them. She caught Draco up in a hug and kissed his cheek. "How are you, darling?" she cooed, ignoring Harry. "I thought you'd never arrive!"
"I'm fine, Parkinson, thanks for asking," Harry deadpanned.
Pansy looked at him and gave a haughty sniff. "Darling, did you have to bring Potter on this excursion?"
"Yes, Pansy," Draco replied, easing out of her embrace. "Grandmère would be disappointed if Harry didn't help celebrate her birthday."
"Has that dotty old witch still forgotten you're divorced?"
Harry was growing weary of Pansy's whining. "Which cabin is mine?" he asked.
"I'll help you find it," said Draco. "Pansy, we'll see you at dinner if not sooner."
***
"Draco, you can't be serious."
Draco turned imploring eyes on Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry, I truly am," he said. "I specifically asked Andre to give us a cabin with two beds in it."
Harry stifled an exasperated sigh and surveyed the cabin. It was small, but that wasn't the problem. There was only one, large bed in the cabin. Harry didn't believe he could share a bed with Draco for the next several nights and not ravish his ex-husband.
"I'll find Andre and speak to him," said Draco. "I'm sure there's been some mix-up, and we most likely need to switch with someone else."
Harry nodded. "While you're checking on that, I'm going to explore."
Harry navigated the narrow corridor and ascended the steps to the main deck. He ambled over to the railing and gazed out at the other boats in the marina. The Belle de Mer wouldn't set sail until all of the passengers were aboard. Harry twisted the wedding ring on his finger as he wondered whom they were waiting on.
Harry's musings were interrupted by Draco's mother. "There you are, Harry," she said. "Annemarie has been asking about you."
Harry smiled at that. "Where is she?" he asked. "I want to wish her a happy birthday."
Narcissa gestured for Harry to follow her, and he fell into step beside her. "I apologize for Annemarie's forgetfulness," said Narcissa. "We've told her many times that you and Draco are divorced, but she never seems to remember it."
"That's quite alright," said Harry. "I'm pleased that Granny Annemarie still thinks of me fondly."
Narcissa shot him a sharp glance, but she refrained from further comment. She led Harry into the yacht's large salon, where Annemarie was holding court near a bank of windows. Her white hair was styled in a fashionable chignon, and she was wearing a simple day dress in an eye-watering shade of hot pink. Annemarie had always been fond of bright colors.
Harry didn't know how much he'd missed the old witch until that moment. He brushed past Narcissa, side-stepped dour Antoinette, and knelt on one knee next to Annemarie's chair. "Happy birthday, Granny Annemarie," said Harry, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.
"Harry!" she cried in delight, throwing a surprisingly strong arm around his neck to throttle him with a hug. "I missed you at Yule, young man," Annemarie scolded.
"I missed you, too, Granny," said Harry. "I hope your birthday gift will make up for it."
Annemarie gave him a toothy grin. "Did you bring me a Muggle music box?"
Harry patted her hand. "You'll have to wait until you open it."
"You're a terrible tease, Harry Malfoy," Annemarie said with a titter of laughter. She looked beyond Harry and added, "Here's that husband of yours."
A thrill of anticipation shot through Harry, and he turned his head to see Draco approaching them. His nose was already slightly pink from the sun, and the wind had mussed his hair. Harry felt an ache in the center of his chest, which he ruthlessly squashed.
"Grandmère Annemarie," Draco greeted, pressing a gallant kiss to his great-grandmother's hand. "Have you been flirting with Harry again?"
"Those of us who married into this mad family must stick together," she tutted. "Isn't that right, Harry?"
"That's correct," Harry agreed, rising to his feet. "The entire family is quite mad."
Draco frowned, but Annemarie whooped with laughter. "You're like a breath of fresh air, Harry," she said. "Thank you for indulging an old lady on the occasion of her one hundredth birthday."
Harry smiled down at her. "The pleasure is all mine, Granny Annemarie."
***
"There's nothing to be done, Harry," Draco sighed. "I spoke to Andre, and it seems there was an unexpected addition to the boarding party. My cousin Marcel asked to bring a guest at the last minute, and Andre was forced to give our original cabin to them."
Harry felt a headache coming on, but he almost welcomed it. The discomfort would help to distract him from the ache at his groin. This was promising to be a long, uncomfortable holiday. Complaining wasn't going to help the situation, however.
"Thank you for asking, Draco," Harry said. "Let's enlarge our luggage and unpack, shall we?"
They accomplished the feat in silence, occasionally brushing against one another in the close confines of their cabin. Harry was fully aroused by the time he put his clothing away, and he hoped Draco wouldn't notice.
The Belle de Mer was in motion, having put out to sea once all passengers were aboard. It reminded Harry of his honeymoon with Draco. They had gone on a cruise, but they spent most of the time in their luxurious cabin. This one was smaller and more modestly appointed, but it served as a bittersweet reminder of the happiest time in Harry's life. Harry grimaced and dragged a hand through his hair.
"What's troubling you?" asked Draco.
Harry should have known his ex-husband could still read him so well. "I'm knackered," he replied. The statement was at least partially true. "I think I'll have a shower and take a short nap before dinner."
Draco nodded. "Pansy will be wanting me to rescue her from Antoinette's clutches," he said. "I'll be sure to wake you in time to dress for dinner."
***
Harry had a wank in the shower, followed by a refreshing nap. He was awake before Draco returned to their cabin. Harry got dressed while Draco showered. While waiting, he idly twisted the ring on his finger. It felt both odd and yet right to be wearing it again.
When Draco emerged from the small en suite, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, Harry gulped. "Erm, would you like me to step outside?" he asked. He almost hoped that Draco would agree.
"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. It's not as if we haven't seen one another naked before."
Yeah, but you were mine then.
Harry distracted himself from his lustful thoughts by mentally reciting Draco's family tree:
Annemarie met Armand Malfoy when she was visiting London. They later married and had two children. The eldest was Draco's grandfather, Abraxas, followed by Antoinette. Abraxas went on to marry Draco's grandmother, Lucrecia. When Armand passed away, Annemarie returned to France with her daughter. Antoinette later met and married Pascale Desjardins. Abraxas and Lucrecia had only one son, Lucius, while Antoinette and Pascale had two children: son Algernon and daughter Simone. Algernon married Catherine, and they had three children: Andre, who was Pansy's husband, Collette, married to Kelwyn Tuthill, and Adrienne, whose partner was Sharon. Lucius, of course, married Narcissa Black, and they had Draco. Simone Desjardins married Maxime Roche, and they had one son, Marcel. The youngest generation consisted of Pansy and Andre's daughter, Andrea, and Collette and Kelwyn's children, Clementine and Kirby.
Harry'd had that information drilled into his head before his first meeting with Draco's family. He was rather pleased with himself that he could still remember it all. The ability would come in handy later, as everyone except Simone and Maxime was on the cruise.
***
"Harry, come sit next to me," Annemarie insisted as soon as Harry and Draco strolled into the salon. She nudged her grandson, Algernon, prompting him to give his seat up to Harry.
Harry refrained from smirking at Algernon Desjardins, who was just as stodgy as his mother, Antoinette, was.
"Potter," Algernon said stiffly before stalking over to sit with his wife, Catherine, and Lucius and Narcissa.
Annemarie patted the vacated chair to her right. "Sit down, Harry," she invited. "Tell me what's been happening at Hogwords."
Harry didn't bother to correct her. "I'm still teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said.
"How extraordinary!" Annemarie exclaimed. "I suppose no one was more qualified than you were, isn't that right, Draco?"
Draco blinked as he was suddenly drawn into the conversation. He sat down next to Harry and agreed with his great-grandmother. "There's nobody better at defending against Dark Arts than Harry, Grandmère."
Annemarie leaned forward, her rheumy eyes brightening with interest. "Tell me again how you saved my great-grandson from the fire, Harry."
Beside him, Harry heard Draco sigh, but he ignored him in favor of entertaining Annemarie. Harry launched into the tale of the Fiendfyre, purposefully embellishing certain parts to both wind Draco up and to titillate Annemarie.
"Oh my," gasped Annemarie when Harry finished speaking. "It's a wonder you weren't both killed. How could Draco not fall in love with you after you displayed such bravery?"
Harry was spared from answering when the waitstaff began serving dinner.
***
"You plucked me right out of the flames of hell, Harry?"
Harry laughed at Draco's pique. "You know as well as I do that Granny Annemarie loves a good yarn," he said.
"You are incorrigible," grumbled Draco, unknotting his tie. "She already thinks you hung the moon."
"Remind me tomorrow to tell her the story of how I accomplished that feat," Harry quipped. He laughed again when Draco threw his tie at him. Harry's humor faded when he caught the subtle sent of Draco's cologne from the tie. It sent heat spiraling downward and caused his body to ache. Harry draped Draco's tie over the back of the single chair in their cabin and turned away to remove his own suit jacket.
Harry heard clothing rustling behind him, indicating that Draco was also getting undressed. A thrilling, torturous memory came to him. "You, ah, you don't still sleep nude, do you?" Harry rasped.
"I prefer to," Draco replied, "but out of respect for your delicate sensibilities, I packed some pyjamas."
Harry wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.
"Do you still wear that manky old Cannons T-shirt to bed?"
In answer, Harry retrieved his Cannons T-shirt from the dresser. "Hah!" he crowed, waving it about like a victory pennant.
"Suffering Salazar," Draco complained. "I should have burned that when we were married."
"I never had it on long enough," Harry said. He wished the words back as soon as they were out of his mouth.
Even Draco appeared flustered. "Yeah, we, ah, we burned up the sheets instead, didn't we? So...do you still sleep on the right side of the bed?"
***
Harry didn't get much sleep. He started out on his own side of the bed, back to Draco. He used to spoon Draco when they shared a marriage bed, but that was then and this was now. However, the first time Harry woke up, he had migrated over to Draco's side and was wrapped around his ex-husband. Harry stifled a groan and extricated himself as carefully as he could, not wanting to wake Draco. It didn't help matters when Draco sighed in his sleep and clutched Harry tighter.
Each time that Harry managed to doze off afterward, he would inevitably wake up, aroused and aching, with Draco in his arms. How had he ever thought he could do this? By the time morning came, Harry was tired and cross.
Draco rolled out of bed ahead of Harry and claimed the en suite. While waiting his turn, Harry had a quick, sneaky wank, then waved his wand around to Vanish all traces of his weakness. Draco sauntered out several minutes later, wearing only a bathrobe.
"Don't take too long, Harry," Draco admonished. "Breakfast is in twenty minutes."
"You should have thought of that before you commandeered the bathroom for as long as you did," Harry snapped.
"I'd forgotten how grumpy you are in the morning."
Harry flipped Draco a rude gesture and slammed the bathroom door for good measure.
***
"When do I get to open my gifts?" Annemarie complained over breakfast. "At my age, I can't wait forever."
"I suspect we'll be celebrating your two hundredth birthday next century, Granny Annemarie," Harry said with a chuckle. He was once again seated next to the grande dame, at her insistence.
"Did you bring me a music box, Harry?" Annemarie asked in a stage whisper.
"You'll see, Granny."
Annemarie scowled at Harry before patting his hand. "You always bring me the best gifts, Harry," she said. "Andre's wife, Posey, has terrible taste."
Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, while Draco cut in smoothly to correct his great-grandmother. "Her name is Pansy, Grandmère."
"Huh," grunted Annemarie. "She seems more like a Posey to me."
Harry brought a napkin to his lips to hide his smile. Draco didn't help matters when he swatted Harry's leg under the table. It only made it more difficult for Harry not to burst out laughing.
"Harry, don't encourage her," Draco hissed.
Harry had forgotten how refreshing Annemarie's candor was. He had missed the old witch almost as much as he missed Draco. Harry found himself wondering, not for the first time, if he and Draco should have fought harder to save their marriage. The thought put a damper on his laughter more effectively than Draco's scolding did.
After breakfast, Harry accompanied Draco on a stroll around the deck. The day was slightly overcast, which reduced the glare from the Mediterranean sea. Still, Harry was glad of the sunglasses he was wearing. The dark lenses also allowed him to shamelessly ogle his ex and not get caught at it.
Pansy was sunbathing on a deck chair. While Draco stopped to speak to her, Harry walked to the rail and leaned against it, enjoying the fresh air and the view.
"I thought you'd escaped this mad family."
Harry turned his head and grinned at Kelwyn Tuthill. He was married to Collette Desjardins, Algernon's daughter and Draco's cousin. This was the first opportunity Harry had to speak to Kelwyn, besides greeting one another in passing.
"I came along on the cruise to make Annemarie happy," Harry said. "It seems she doesn't recall that Draco and I are divorced. What of you?" asked Harry. "How are Collette and the children?"
"Collette is here somewhere," replied Kelwyn. "She's expecting our third child, but she's not so far along as to be bloody uncomfortable."
"Congratulations," said Harry, clapping Kelwyn on the shoulder. He'd enjoyed being an uncle to the Tuthill children. Harry settled into easy conversation with Kelwyn, but he was aware of the moment that Draco stepped up beside him.
Harry turned his head, right into Draco's kiss. He pulled back and blinked, about to ask why Draco had kissed him, when Harry saw Annemarie shuffling along the deck between Lucius and Algernon. So, Draco wanted to put on a show of marital bliss for Granny Annemarie, did he? Two could play at that game. Harry slung an arm around Draco's waist and tugged his ex-husband flush against himself.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked from the corner of his mouth.
"Putting up a good front for Granny Annemarie," Harry replied in a whisper. He splayed his hand over Draco's hip, rubbing the upper swell of Draco's arse with the pad of his thumb for good measure.
Annemarie smiled when she saw them. "Draco, Harry, Kevin, how nice to see you boys enjoying yourselves."
"Thank you, Granny Annemarie," Harry said brightly. "Draco and I are having a fabulous time, isn't that right, love?" Harry tugged Draco even closer as he spoke.
"Yes, yes, it's a lovely day," said Draco, subtly grinding his elbow into Harry's ribs.
Annemarie beamed at them as she continued making the rounds.
Without releasing Draco, Harry turned to Kelwyn and chuckled. "She still calls you 'Kevin'?"
Kelwyn nodded. "I don't bother trying to correct her any longer. I see she still lets you call her 'Granny Annemarie'. I tried it once, and once only. I think I still have the old witch's teeth marks in my arse from that event."
Harry laughed again. Draco had once brought it to his attention that Annemarie mispronounced the name of every Malfoy in-law except Harry's. Last he knew, Annemarie even called Draco's mum 'Narissa'. Harry wondered sometimes if Granny Annemarie was sharper than she let on. If so, she must have a soft spot for him.
"Uncle Harry!"
Harry looked over his shoulder to see one of Kelwyn's children running at him full-tilt.
Clementine hugged him around the legs and said, "I missed you at the hols, Uncle Harry. Uncle Draco said you had to work."
"I missed you, too, Clemmie," said Harry. It was true. Harry had grown quite fond of the various children in Draco's family, even Pansy's impish daughter, Andrea. He ruffled Clementine's ginger hair, and she giggled in response.
"Will you play Exploding Snap with us later, Uncle Harry?"
"I'd love to, Clemmie," Harry replied. "Why don't we play in the salon after lunch?"
***
"I can't believe I was destroyed at Exploding Snap."
"Do stop pouting, Harry," chided Draco. "Clementine is a fierce competitor. I have no doubt she'll be playing Quidditch once she goes to Hogwarts." Collette and Kelwyn were the only branch of the Desjardins family who lived in England.
"In that case, I hope she's Sorted into Gryffindor," sighed Harry. He and Draco had returned to their cabin after Harry was drubbed at Exploding Snap. Harry was feeling knackered and planned to nap, while Draco was going to have tea with his cousin Marcel and Marcel's guest. Harry hoped Draco gave Marcel a piece of his mind. If not, Harry fully intended to. Sharing a bed with Draco was torture.
***
"We're going ashore tomorrow," Annemarie said at dinner. She had insisted that Harry sit beside her once again.
"Would you like me to escort you around Provence, Granny Annemarie?"
The elderly woman tittered and patted Harry's hand. "I intend to impose upon Antoinette," she said. "I expect you and Draco to enjoy one another's company for a change. You haven't seen enough of one another lately, as is, due to your careers."
Due to our divorce, actually. thought Harry. Aloud, he said, "That sounds brilliant, Granny. Maybe you'll find some Muggle music boxes in Provence."
"I've no need to look for music boxes, Harry," she said. "That's what I have you for."
***
Harry awoke slowly the following morning. He was spooned up behind Draco in bed, and his cock was hard and aching.
"Is that a wand in your pyjamas, or are you simply happy to be in bed with me again?" Draco asked in a sleep-husky voice.
Harry chuckled. "Some things never change, do they?"
"You mean, you still find me devastatingly attractive?"
"No, I mean that you're still an arrogant git."
Draco elbowed Harry in the gut. "Plonker," he grumbled. Draco flung the light covers back and rolled out of bed. "I'm going to shower before we go ashore," he said. "Enjoy your wank, Harry."
***
"How are things at Hogwarts these days?" Draco asked.
They had taken a break from sight-seeing in Provence to have lunch in a charming restaurant.
"Still the same," Harry replied with a shrug. "Horace has threatened to retire again, but this time Minerva believes he's serious. She told me she was making inquiries to replace him."
Draco made a noncommittal, humming noise and lifted a bite of food to his mouth.
Harry's trousers grew tight. Spending so much time with Draco reminded him of how much he'd missed Draco since their divorce. Since before their divorce, actually. Their respective careers had seemed to conspire to keep them apart, and Harry resented that as much now as he had in the past. Why hadn't they tried harder to work things out?
Harry opened his mouth to ask Draco that very same thing, but he was interrupted.
"Cousin Draco! Harry! There you are!" called out Draco's cousin Marcel. He was accompanied by his own guest, a bloke by the name of Denis. Draco pronounced it Duh-NEE; Harry simply called him Denny. It was the addition of Denny to the cruise that had necessitated Harry and Draco sharing a cabin with a single bed.
"May we join you for lunch?" Marcel asked.
Harry was surprised to see a flicker of irritation cross Draco's face. Nevertheless, Draco was as coolly polite as ever. "Please, have a seat," he invited.
It didn't take Harry long to realize why Draco's invitation had been grudgingly made. Denny all but plastered himself to Draco's side, simpering and cooing. It made Harry long to punch him in the face. Only the thought of Draco's and Annemarie's reactions held Harry back. He started when Marcel leaned close and whispered to him.
"They make an adorable pair, non?"
No, thought Harry, but he held his tongue.
"Denis has fancied my cousin for ages, but alas, Draco was married to you," Marcel continued. "Now, however, the two of you are over, and Denis positively begged me for an introduction to my handsome cousin."
Harry struggled to control his temper. At least Draco wasn't encouraging Denny; that would have been unbearable to watch. Harry turned to Marcel and said, "Draco and I may be divorced, but we have agreed to act the loving couple for Granny Annemarie's benefit."
"Ah, but Grandmère is not here now, is she?" Marcel said with a smirk. He winked at Harry and nicked a bite of food from Harry's plate.
***
Harry was in a foul mood by the time they returned to their cabin on the Belle de Mer. Marcel and Denny had accompanied Harry and Draco the rest of their time ashore, affording Denny ample opportunity to flirt with Draco in a manner most outrageous. Harry was on the verge of giving Draco a severe tongue-lashing, but his ex-husband beat him to the verbal punch.
"Harry, are you mad?!"
Harry's mouth fell open. "Wha-?"
"How dare you allow Marcel to flirt with you?! Why, what if Grandmère had seen? She would be so disappointed."
"Marcel?" Harry questioned weakly.
"He confessed to me that he's harbored a tendre for you ever since he met you at Pansy and Andre's wedding," snapped Draco.
"But...but what about you and Denny?" sputtered Harry.
"Denis is obnoxious and juvenile," Draco said with a sneer. "I trust you realize I was doing nothing to encourage his behavior, unlike you and the whispered confidences you exchanged with Marcel."
Harry found himself grinning like a fool. "You're jealous," he stated.
"I most certainly am not," Draco sniffed. He turned away and began unbuttoning his shirt. "I am cross with you, because you're meant to be indulging Grandmère's illusion that we're still happily married."
"Of course, Draco. Whatever you say."
***
Dinner that evening was aboard the yacht. For once, Harry was ousted from his place of honor beside Annemarie. Instead, she was surrounded by the youngest generation, and Harry was relieved to have a break. It was becoming more and more difficult to separate his reality from Annemarie's fantasy. Harry had once lived that perfect life, as a member of this imperfect family. He was once a Malfoy, but now he was an outsider. Harry hadn't realized just how much he'd missed Draco's relatives, even though some of them made him mental. The children had grown, and they were genuinely pleased to see Harry in their midst once more. It reminded him that he and Draco had once discussed adopting a child of their own.
"Stop frowning, Harry," chided Draco. "If Grandmère sees you, she'll think I've kicked you beneath the table."
"I may tell her you did, simply to hear her tear a strip off of you," teased Harry.
Draco pulled a face. "I believe she would," he mused. "I've come to the sobering conclusion that my great-grandmother loves you more than she does me."
Harry couldn't help but laugh, even as he hastened to assure Draco. "What a load of tosh," he said. "Granny Annemarie loves you very much."
"Be that as it may, she positively dotes on you, Harry."
"Yes, but she commends you on your excellent taste," Harry said in return.
"Ah, saved by the pudding," Draco exclaimed, when the waitstaff began bringing the final course into the salon.
Harry chuckled and dipped a spoon into a slice of tiramisu. It seemed he had missed bantering with Draco, too.
***
After dinner that evening, Harry and Draco lingered in the salon with Draco's Desjardins cousins and their respective partners. The children had been spirited away by their grandparents, Algernon and his wife Catherine. Pansy and Andre remained in the salon, along with Collette and Kelwyn. Also in attendance was their sister, Adrienne, and her partner, Sharon. This was the same group who always seemed to convene at every Malfoy family function.
Harry was seated next to Draco on one of the settees in the salon's lounge area. His hand was resting casually on Draco's thigh. Harry tried to tell himself the gesture was for show, but he knew better. He was enjoying the excuse to touch Draco again, to engage in the casual intimacy that was once second nature to them. If Draco minded the contact, he gave no indication. Instead, he was busy visiting with his cousins, laughing at their stories, and drinking the wine that Andre had produced. The atmosphere was relaxed and jovial, and Harry experienced a pang of regret when he realized how much he missed this.
Harry wondered if it could be recaptured. Would Draco be willing, or was he content with his single status? What if Draco did agree to give their relationship another chance? The issues that had separated them still existed. Draco had a successful potions business in London, and Harry was a professor at Hogwarts. They'd once thought that seeing each other on weekends would be sufficient, but it wasn't. They may as well not have been married, and it made more sense to simply call a halt to their relationship.
Harry couldn't ask Draco to give up his business; it wouldn't be fair. He considered the idea of stepping down as DADA instructor at Hogwarts. Harry would miss it, but it was clear that he missed Draco far more. He grimaced when he realized he didn't dare resign now. Minerva was already scrambling to find someone to replace Horace. It would be wrong to make her search for another DADA professor, as well. Maybe Harry could tell Minerva he would teach for one more year. Would Draco be willing to wait that long?
"...another music box?"
Harry blinked and looked up, chagrined to see that Adrienne was addressing him. "Sorry?"
"I asked if you bought Grandmère another music box," Adrienne replied.
"Yes, I found her a fantastic one in London before we left," said Harry.
Sharon leaned forward. "How did you establish a tradition of giving Annemarie music boxes?"
Harry smiled at the memory. "Draco once told me that Annemarie's favorite song is Clair de Lune," he said. "I happened to find a music box that played that particular song, and I gave it to Granny for the hols that year."
"She was completely enchanted by it," Draco added. "Grandmère marveled at how Muggles could create something so wonderful."
"I've given her music boxes ever since," Harry finished with a shrug.
"What a fun tradition," said Collette.
"I think Annemarie is more excited about a music box from Potter than she is about the cruise aboard our yacht," Pansy drawled.
Harry's attention turned to her, but Pansy didn't seem angry so much as faintly bemused.
"Rubbish," scoffed Kelwyn. "Annemarie has been talking about this holiday for weeks now. However, I think she's been more pleased to see the children than she was to see any of us."
The others all laughed, including Harry. It was true; Annemarie enjoyed doting on the children.
"She treated us like royalty when we were young," Andre remarked. He took a sip of wine before adding, "Of course, once we had children, Grandmère switched her devotion to them, the little blighters."
"Don't be bitter, darling," tutted Pansy, patting her husband's knee. "Andrea loves her Grandmère, especially since Annemarie lavishes attention on her. Our own parents don't spend as much time talking to Andrea as Annemarie does."
"You're right about that," Andre agreed. He raised his glass in a toast. "To Grandmère Annemarie!"
"To Grandmère Annemarie!" chorused the others.
***
Harry delayed returning to their cabin, wanting to give Draco a chance to get into bed before he returned. Being in the same room with his ex, while Draco went through the achingly familiar routine of readying himself for bed, was more than Harry could bear. He should have known it would be a mistake to accompany Draco on this voyage of subterfuge. Harry thought he could maintain his distance from Draco and keep things between them platonic, but he'd only been fooling himself. Now, all Harry could think about was stripping Draco bare, laying him down on the bed in their cabin, and losing himself in the sensual delights of Draco's body until this cruise was over.
Harry stood at the railing of the deck, gazing at the waxing moon where it gleamed above the sea. Harry's ring reflected the light, and he caressed the smooth metal with his fingertip. He felt someone approach and turned, hoping that it was Draco.
"Potter."
"Parkinson."
"Are you enjoying our yacht?"
"It's beautiful," Harry replied. "I confess I'm not fond of the name, however."
Pansy lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. "It was not my first choice of name, but Andre would not be dissuaded."
Harry was about to ask her what she'd wanted to name the yacht, when Pansy turned her head and pinned him in place with a cold-eyed glare.
"If you break Draco's heart again, I will Crucio you to death."
Before Harry could reply, Pansy spun and stalked away from him. Harry was left staring after her, feeling completely dumbfounded.
***
It was no surprise when Harry woke up with morning wood again. What did surprise him was when Draco casually asked, "Would you like a hand with that?"
"Sorry?" Harry mumbled. He couldn't have heard Draco correctly.
"Harry, we were married for six years, and we were lovers long before that," said Draco. "I can assure you, it will be no hardship to jerk you off. Besides, I was always fond of your cock, and I've missed it."
Before Harry could formulate a reply, Draco's hand delved beneath the waist band of his pyjama bottoms and wrapped around his cock. Harry groaned, and his hips jolted forward. Harry's cock had apparently missed Draco, too. In a shamefully short amount of time, Harry was coming in his pyjamas.
Draco withdrew his hand and gave Harry a saucy wink. "Dibs on the shower!"
***
On to the rest...
Author LJ Name: enchanted_jae
Prompt Number: #138
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, multiple others comprised of HP characters and ocs
Summary: Months after their divorce, Draco requests a huge favor from Harry.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Fluff + Angst = Flangst
Epilogue compliant? No
Word Count: 12,400
Author's Notes: This plot has been percolating in my mind for ages, and when I saw a prompt that matched it so perfectly, I was thrilled to claim it!
The Floo in Harry's quarters flared to life, and he looked up from the essays he was marking to see his ex-husband's face dancing in the flames.
"Hello, Harry."
"Hello, Draco," Harry greeted with a smile, genuinely pleased to see him.
"May I come through?"
"Of course," said Harry. "You know my Floo is always open to you."
Draco's face disappeared, and a moment later he stepped through the enlarged fireplace in a flash of green. Draco brushed at some soot that had the temerity to land on his shoulders.
Harry couldn't help but grin at the familiar gesture. "Have a seat," he invited. "Would you care for something to drink?"
"Tea would be lovely, thank you," Draco replied, choosing an elegant, straight-backed chair. "How are your DADA classes going?"
"Splendidly," said Harry. He already had a pot of hot water waiting, so it was a simple task to pour some into a cup, add a bag of Earl Grey, and place two sugars on Draco's saucer before handing it to him.
"You remember how I take my tea?"
"Draco, we were married for six years, and we've only been divorced for eight months," said Harry. "Of course, I remember."
Draco refrained from comment as he allowed the tea to steep. He dropped the sugar in his cup and stirred it. "Are you seeing anyone?" he finally asked, head still bent to his task.
Oh, Godric, thought Harry. He's found someone he's serious about, and he wanted to let me know before I read about it in the Prophet. Aloud, Harry said, "I've been too busy with my students. Besides, there's little opportunity to meet someone at Hogwarts, although Hagrid did offer..."
Harry allowed his voice to trail off and watched Draco expectantly. He wasn't disappointed.
Draco's head snapped up, an expression of utter revulsion stamped on his features. When he saw the smirk on Harry's face, Draco scowled at him. "You're taking the piss," he accused.
Harry laughed, and it felt good. He and Draco hadn't laughed together for over a year. Harry refreshed his own cup of tea and pushed the essays aside. "Why the sudden interest in my personal life?"
"I have a favor to ask."
Harry waited politely for Draco to continue.
Draco squared his shoulders. "Grandmère's birthday is coming up," he said. "She's going to be one hundred."
"Granny Annemarie is turning one hundred?!" Harry cried, sitting forward. Of Draco's family, his great-grandmother Annemarie Malfoy was Harry's favorite. He adored the feisty old witch, and she had taken an instant liking to Harry, as well.
"I'll be sure to send her a music box," said Harry. He'd given one to Annemarie on a lark once, and she was utterly fascinated by it. Harry had gifted her with music boxes ever since.
"That would be lovely, Harry, thank you," said Draco. "However, I didn't come here simply to prod you into buying Grandmère a gift. My great-aunt Antoinette and her family are planning a gala celebration, and I'd like you to attend with me."
Harry remembered Antoinette from the day of his wedding. She was a dour old witch, and even Lucius seemed intimidated by her. Annemarie was the only person who remained unfazed by her waspish daughter. Still, Harry could tolerate an evening in Antoinette's presence for the sake of seeing Annemarie again.
"I'm quite sure I can accommodate you, Draco," Harry said. "When is the party? I'll clear the date on my calendar."
Draco stirred his tea again; an indication that he was nervous. Had Harry misread the situation? Was Draco taking someone else as his date?
"Draco?" Harry prodded. Draco peered up at Harry in that endearing fashion of his when he was about to resort to wheedling to get his way. It made Harry's heart ache in a way he hadn't anticipated, and he had a sinking feeling he was about to agree to anything that Draco asked of him.
"Grandmère has requested an unconventional celebration," Draco began. "The family is treating her to a ten-day cruise aboard my cousin Andre's yacht."
"Andre?" Harry's voice sounded weak to his own ears. "Isn't he the one who married Parkinson?"
"I know it's an awful lot to ask, Harry, and I wouldn't have done so at all, but you know how Grandmère adores you, and she doesn't know we're divorced, and she expects-"
"You didn't tell her we got divorced?!"
Draco winced. "Yes, Harry, I told her, but the woman is nearly a hundred years old! She's getting a trifle dotty, and she seems to have forgotten that we are no longer married. She told me she can't wait to see you again and that she was disappointed you didn't make it to the family Yule celebration."
"She remembered I wasn't with you during the hols, but she can't recall why?!"
"Harry, please," Draco cajoled. "It's only for ten days, it will be after the end of term, and you'll make an old woman very happy."
Harry wasn't sure he could survive being that close to Draco for such an extended period of time. Their divorce had been amicable enough, but it left Harry with a broken heart. He still missed Draco, but the pain had gradually lessened to a dull ache. Spending ten days pretending to be happily married might break Harry's heart all over again.
As Harry waged an internal war, Draco spoke again. "Harry, I know it's a lot to ask, but-"
Harry held up one hand and sighed. "I'll do it."
***
Harry arrived via Floo at Draco's office in London. He staggered a little as he exited the Floo, and Draco snickered.
"Honestly, Harry! I can't believe Floo travel still confounds you so."
"I was raised by Muggles, you prat," Harry countered, brushing soot from his hair.
"Our Portkey to Barcelona will activate in less than ten minutes," said Draco, getting down to business. "Did you have a chance to go over the itinerary? Did you remember to buy Grandmère a gift?"
"Yes, on both counts," Harry replied. In spite of the circumstances, he was looking forward to the cruise. He hadn't had a proper holiday since early in his marriage.
Draco set the Portkey on his desk and gestured for Harry to approach. "Our wedding rings," Draco blurted.
"Sorry?" Harry prompted.
"Grandmère will notice if we aren't wearing our rings," said Draco. He moved past Harry and rummaged in the top drawer of his desk. Draco retrieved an old, velvet jeweler's box and opened it. He withdrew the matching rings that he and Harry placed on one another's fingers during their wedding ceremony. Harry had returned his to Draco after their divorce, knowing it was a family heirloom. Draco withdrew his ring and put it on, then handed Harry the mate to it.
As Harry slipped the ring on his left finger, his throat tightened. Growing apart suddenly seemed like the most absurd reason to give up on a marriage. Harry cleared his throat. "Draco, I-"
"They still fit," Draco interrupted, smiling in delight. "It's time, Harry. Put your hand on the Portkey. You know how Grandmère hates to be kept waiting."
***
"This is your cousin's yacht?" Harry exclaimed. "Does he not realize how inappropriate the name is?!"
Harry was horrified to see that Andre's yacht was named Belle de Mer. It sounded far too close to Voldemort for Harry's peace of mind.
"I am quite certain that Andre did not purposely name his yacht to cause you anxiety, Harry," said Draco. "As you recall, that branch of the family was safely ensconced in France during the war, and they were supremely unaffected by it all."
"Didn't Parkinson try to talk him out of it?"
"Pansy did try to suggest other names, but Andre wouldn't have it."
Harry side-eyed his ex-husband, but Draco's expression remained serene. "Fine," said Harry. "I'll go aboard, but I don't like it."
"Duly noted, Harry."
They strolled up the gangplank and boarded the yacht.
"Draco, darling!"
Harry turned his head to see Pansy Parkinson-Desjardins bearing down on them. She caught Draco up in a hug and kissed his cheek. "How are you, darling?" she cooed, ignoring Harry. "I thought you'd never arrive!"
"I'm fine, Parkinson, thanks for asking," Harry deadpanned.
Pansy looked at him and gave a haughty sniff. "Darling, did you have to bring Potter on this excursion?"
"Yes, Pansy," Draco replied, easing out of her embrace. "Grandmère would be disappointed if Harry didn't help celebrate her birthday."
"Has that dotty old witch still forgotten you're divorced?"
Harry was growing weary of Pansy's whining. "Which cabin is mine?" he asked.
"I'll help you find it," said Draco. "Pansy, we'll see you at dinner if not sooner."
***
"Draco, you can't be serious."
Draco turned imploring eyes on Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry, I truly am," he said. "I specifically asked Andre to give us a cabin with two beds in it."
Harry stifled an exasperated sigh and surveyed the cabin. It was small, but that wasn't the problem. There was only one, large bed in the cabin. Harry didn't believe he could share a bed with Draco for the next several nights and not ravish his ex-husband.
"I'll find Andre and speak to him," said Draco. "I'm sure there's been some mix-up, and we most likely need to switch with someone else."
Harry nodded. "While you're checking on that, I'm going to explore."
Harry navigated the narrow corridor and ascended the steps to the main deck. He ambled over to the railing and gazed out at the other boats in the marina. The Belle de Mer wouldn't set sail until all of the passengers were aboard. Harry twisted the wedding ring on his finger as he wondered whom they were waiting on.
Harry's musings were interrupted by Draco's mother. "There you are, Harry," she said. "Annemarie has been asking about you."
Harry smiled at that. "Where is she?" he asked. "I want to wish her a happy birthday."
Narcissa gestured for Harry to follow her, and he fell into step beside her. "I apologize for Annemarie's forgetfulness," said Narcissa. "We've told her many times that you and Draco are divorced, but she never seems to remember it."
"That's quite alright," said Harry. "I'm pleased that Granny Annemarie still thinks of me fondly."
Narcissa shot him a sharp glance, but she refrained from further comment. She led Harry into the yacht's large salon, where Annemarie was holding court near a bank of windows. Her white hair was styled in a fashionable chignon, and she was wearing a simple day dress in an eye-watering shade of hot pink. Annemarie had always been fond of bright colors.
Harry didn't know how much he'd missed the old witch until that moment. He brushed past Narcissa, side-stepped dour Antoinette, and knelt on one knee next to Annemarie's chair. "Happy birthday, Granny Annemarie," said Harry, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.
"Harry!" she cried in delight, throwing a surprisingly strong arm around his neck to throttle him with a hug. "I missed you at Yule, young man," Annemarie scolded.
"I missed you, too, Granny," said Harry. "I hope your birthday gift will make up for it."
Annemarie gave him a toothy grin. "Did you bring me a Muggle music box?"
Harry patted her hand. "You'll have to wait until you open it."
"You're a terrible tease, Harry Malfoy," Annemarie said with a titter of laughter. She looked beyond Harry and added, "Here's that husband of yours."
A thrill of anticipation shot through Harry, and he turned his head to see Draco approaching them. His nose was already slightly pink from the sun, and the wind had mussed his hair. Harry felt an ache in the center of his chest, which he ruthlessly squashed.
"Grandmère Annemarie," Draco greeted, pressing a gallant kiss to his great-grandmother's hand. "Have you been flirting with Harry again?"
"Those of us who married into this mad family must stick together," she tutted. "Isn't that right, Harry?"
"That's correct," Harry agreed, rising to his feet. "The entire family is quite mad."
Draco frowned, but Annemarie whooped with laughter. "You're like a breath of fresh air, Harry," she said. "Thank you for indulging an old lady on the occasion of her one hundredth birthday."
Harry smiled down at her. "The pleasure is all mine, Granny Annemarie."
***
"There's nothing to be done, Harry," Draco sighed. "I spoke to Andre, and it seems there was an unexpected addition to the boarding party. My cousin Marcel asked to bring a guest at the last minute, and Andre was forced to give our original cabin to them."
Harry felt a headache coming on, but he almost welcomed it. The discomfort would help to distract him from the ache at his groin. This was promising to be a long, uncomfortable holiday. Complaining wasn't going to help the situation, however.
"Thank you for asking, Draco," Harry said. "Let's enlarge our luggage and unpack, shall we?"
They accomplished the feat in silence, occasionally brushing against one another in the close confines of their cabin. Harry was fully aroused by the time he put his clothing away, and he hoped Draco wouldn't notice.
The Belle de Mer was in motion, having put out to sea once all passengers were aboard. It reminded Harry of his honeymoon with Draco. They had gone on a cruise, but they spent most of the time in their luxurious cabin. This one was smaller and more modestly appointed, but it served as a bittersweet reminder of the happiest time in Harry's life. Harry grimaced and dragged a hand through his hair.
"What's troubling you?" asked Draco.
Harry should have known his ex-husband could still read him so well. "I'm knackered," he replied. The statement was at least partially true. "I think I'll have a shower and take a short nap before dinner."
Draco nodded. "Pansy will be wanting me to rescue her from Antoinette's clutches," he said. "I'll be sure to wake you in time to dress for dinner."
***
Harry had a wank in the shower, followed by a refreshing nap. He was awake before Draco returned to their cabin. Harry got dressed while Draco showered. While waiting, he idly twisted the ring on his finger. It felt both odd and yet right to be wearing it again.
When Draco emerged from the small en suite, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, Harry gulped. "Erm, would you like me to step outside?" he asked. He almost hoped that Draco would agree.
"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. It's not as if we haven't seen one another naked before."
Yeah, but you were mine then.
Harry distracted himself from his lustful thoughts by mentally reciting Draco's family tree:
Annemarie met Armand Malfoy when she was visiting London. They later married and had two children. The eldest was Draco's grandfather, Abraxas, followed by Antoinette. Abraxas went on to marry Draco's grandmother, Lucrecia. When Armand passed away, Annemarie returned to France with her daughter. Antoinette later met and married Pascale Desjardins. Abraxas and Lucrecia had only one son, Lucius, while Antoinette and Pascale had two children: son Algernon and daughter Simone. Algernon married Catherine, and they had three children: Andre, who was Pansy's husband, Collette, married to Kelwyn Tuthill, and Adrienne, whose partner was Sharon. Lucius, of course, married Narcissa Black, and they had Draco. Simone Desjardins married Maxime Roche, and they had one son, Marcel. The youngest generation consisted of Pansy and Andre's daughter, Andrea, and Collette and Kelwyn's children, Clementine and Kirby.
Harry'd had that information drilled into his head before his first meeting with Draco's family. He was rather pleased with himself that he could still remember it all. The ability would come in handy later, as everyone except Simone and Maxime was on the cruise.
***
"Harry, come sit next to me," Annemarie insisted as soon as Harry and Draco strolled into the salon. She nudged her grandson, Algernon, prompting him to give his seat up to Harry.
Harry refrained from smirking at Algernon Desjardins, who was just as stodgy as his mother, Antoinette, was.
"Potter," Algernon said stiffly before stalking over to sit with his wife, Catherine, and Lucius and Narcissa.
Annemarie patted the vacated chair to her right. "Sit down, Harry," she invited. "Tell me what's been happening at Hogwords."
Harry didn't bother to correct her. "I'm still teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said.
"How extraordinary!" Annemarie exclaimed. "I suppose no one was more qualified than you were, isn't that right, Draco?"
Draco blinked as he was suddenly drawn into the conversation. He sat down next to Harry and agreed with his great-grandmother. "There's nobody better at defending against Dark Arts than Harry, Grandmère."
Annemarie leaned forward, her rheumy eyes brightening with interest. "Tell me again how you saved my great-grandson from the fire, Harry."
Beside him, Harry heard Draco sigh, but he ignored him in favor of entertaining Annemarie. Harry launched into the tale of the Fiendfyre, purposefully embellishing certain parts to both wind Draco up and to titillate Annemarie.
"Oh my," gasped Annemarie when Harry finished speaking. "It's a wonder you weren't both killed. How could Draco not fall in love with you after you displayed such bravery?"
Harry was spared from answering when the waitstaff began serving dinner.
***
"You plucked me right out of the flames of hell, Harry?"
Harry laughed at Draco's pique. "You know as well as I do that Granny Annemarie loves a good yarn," he said.
"You are incorrigible," grumbled Draco, unknotting his tie. "She already thinks you hung the moon."
"Remind me tomorrow to tell her the story of how I accomplished that feat," Harry quipped. He laughed again when Draco threw his tie at him. Harry's humor faded when he caught the subtle sent of Draco's cologne from the tie. It sent heat spiraling downward and caused his body to ache. Harry draped Draco's tie over the back of the single chair in their cabin and turned away to remove his own suit jacket.
Harry heard clothing rustling behind him, indicating that Draco was also getting undressed. A thrilling, torturous memory came to him. "You, ah, you don't still sleep nude, do you?" Harry rasped.
"I prefer to," Draco replied, "but out of respect for your delicate sensibilities, I packed some pyjamas."
Harry wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.
"Do you still wear that manky old Cannons T-shirt to bed?"
In answer, Harry retrieved his Cannons T-shirt from the dresser. "Hah!" he crowed, waving it about like a victory pennant.
"Suffering Salazar," Draco complained. "I should have burned that when we were married."
"I never had it on long enough," Harry said. He wished the words back as soon as they were out of his mouth.
Even Draco appeared flustered. "Yeah, we, ah, we burned up the sheets instead, didn't we? So...do you still sleep on the right side of the bed?"
***
Harry didn't get much sleep. He started out on his own side of the bed, back to Draco. He used to spoon Draco when they shared a marriage bed, but that was then and this was now. However, the first time Harry woke up, he had migrated over to Draco's side and was wrapped around his ex-husband. Harry stifled a groan and extricated himself as carefully as he could, not wanting to wake Draco. It didn't help matters when Draco sighed in his sleep and clutched Harry tighter.
Each time that Harry managed to doze off afterward, he would inevitably wake up, aroused and aching, with Draco in his arms. How had he ever thought he could do this? By the time morning came, Harry was tired and cross.
Draco rolled out of bed ahead of Harry and claimed the en suite. While waiting his turn, Harry had a quick, sneaky wank, then waved his wand around to Vanish all traces of his weakness. Draco sauntered out several minutes later, wearing only a bathrobe.
"Don't take too long, Harry," Draco admonished. "Breakfast is in twenty minutes."
"You should have thought of that before you commandeered the bathroom for as long as you did," Harry snapped.
"I'd forgotten how grumpy you are in the morning."
Harry flipped Draco a rude gesture and slammed the bathroom door for good measure.
***
"When do I get to open my gifts?" Annemarie complained over breakfast. "At my age, I can't wait forever."
"I suspect we'll be celebrating your two hundredth birthday next century, Granny Annemarie," Harry said with a chuckle. He was once again seated next to the grande dame, at her insistence.
"Did you bring me a music box, Harry?" Annemarie asked in a stage whisper.
"You'll see, Granny."
Annemarie scowled at Harry before patting his hand. "You always bring me the best gifts, Harry," she said. "Andre's wife, Posey, has terrible taste."
Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, while Draco cut in smoothly to correct his great-grandmother. "Her name is Pansy, Grandmère."
"Huh," grunted Annemarie. "She seems more like a Posey to me."
Harry brought a napkin to his lips to hide his smile. Draco didn't help matters when he swatted Harry's leg under the table. It only made it more difficult for Harry not to burst out laughing.
"Harry, don't encourage her," Draco hissed.
Harry had forgotten how refreshing Annemarie's candor was. He had missed the old witch almost as much as he missed Draco. Harry found himself wondering, not for the first time, if he and Draco should have fought harder to save their marriage. The thought put a damper on his laughter more effectively than Draco's scolding did.
After breakfast, Harry accompanied Draco on a stroll around the deck. The day was slightly overcast, which reduced the glare from the Mediterranean sea. Still, Harry was glad of the sunglasses he was wearing. The dark lenses also allowed him to shamelessly ogle his ex and not get caught at it.
Pansy was sunbathing on a deck chair. While Draco stopped to speak to her, Harry walked to the rail and leaned against it, enjoying the fresh air and the view.
"I thought you'd escaped this mad family."
Harry turned his head and grinned at Kelwyn Tuthill. He was married to Collette Desjardins, Algernon's daughter and Draco's cousin. This was the first opportunity Harry had to speak to Kelwyn, besides greeting one another in passing.
"I came along on the cruise to make Annemarie happy," Harry said. "It seems she doesn't recall that Draco and I are divorced. What of you?" asked Harry. "How are Collette and the children?"
"Collette is here somewhere," replied Kelwyn. "She's expecting our third child, but she's not so far along as to be bloody uncomfortable."
"Congratulations," said Harry, clapping Kelwyn on the shoulder. He'd enjoyed being an uncle to the Tuthill children. Harry settled into easy conversation with Kelwyn, but he was aware of the moment that Draco stepped up beside him.
Harry turned his head, right into Draco's kiss. He pulled back and blinked, about to ask why Draco had kissed him, when Harry saw Annemarie shuffling along the deck between Lucius and Algernon. So, Draco wanted to put on a show of marital bliss for Granny Annemarie, did he? Two could play at that game. Harry slung an arm around Draco's waist and tugged his ex-husband flush against himself.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked from the corner of his mouth.
"Putting up a good front for Granny Annemarie," Harry replied in a whisper. He splayed his hand over Draco's hip, rubbing the upper swell of Draco's arse with the pad of his thumb for good measure.
Annemarie smiled when she saw them. "Draco, Harry, Kevin, how nice to see you boys enjoying yourselves."
"Thank you, Granny Annemarie," Harry said brightly. "Draco and I are having a fabulous time, isn't that right, love?" Harry tugged Draco even closer as he spoke.
"Yes, yes, it's a lovely day," said Draco, subtly grinding his elbow into Harry's ribs.
Annemarie beamed at them as she continued making the rounds.
Without releasing Draco, Harry turned to Kelwyn and chuckled. "She still calls you 'Kevin'?"
Kelwyn nodded. "I don't bother trying to correct her any longer. I see she still lets you call her 'Granny Annemarie'. I tried it once, and once only. I think I still have the old witch's teeth marks in my arse from that event."
Harry laughed again. Draco had once brought it to his attention that Annemarie mispronounced the name of every Malfoy in-law except Harry's. Last he knew, Annemarie even called Draco's mum 'Narissa'. Harry wondered sometimes if Granny Annemarie was sharper than she let on. If so, she must have a soft spot for him.
"Uncle Harry!"
Harry looked over his shoulder to see one of Kelwyn's children running at him full-tilt.
Clementine hugged him around the legs and said, "I missed you at the hols, Uncle Harry. Uncle Draco said you had to work."
"I missed you, too, Clemmie," said Harry. It was true. Harry had grown quite fond of the various children in Draco's family, even Pansy's impish daughter, Andrea. He ruffled Clementine's ginger hair, and she giggled in response.
"Will you play Exploding Snap with us later, Uncle Harry?"
"I'd love to, Clemmie," Harry replied. "Why don't we play in the salon after lunch?"
***
"I can't believe I was destroyed at Exploding Snap."
"Do stop pouting, Harry," chided Draco. "Clementine is a fierce competitor. I have no doubt she'll be playing Quidditch once she goes to Hogwarts." Collette and Kelwyn were the only branch of the Desjardins family who lived in England.
"In that case, I hope she's Sorted into Gryffindor," sighed Harry. He and Draco had returned to their cabin after Harry was drubbed at Exploding Snap. Harry was feeling knackered and planned to nap, while Draco was going to have tea with his cousin Marcel and Marcel's guest. Harry hoped Draco gave Marcel a piece of his mind. If not, Harry fully intended to. Sharing a bed with Draco was torture.
***
"We're going ashore tomorrow," Annemarie said at dinner. She had insisted that Harry sit beside her once again.
"Would you like me to escort you around Provence, Granny Annemarie?"
The elderly woman tittered and patted Harry's hand. "I intend to impose upon Antoinette," she said. "I expect you and Draco to enjoy one another's company for a change. You haven't seen enough of one another lately, as is, due to your careers."
Due to our divorce, actually. thought Harry. Aloud, he said, "That sounds brilliant, Granny. Maybe you'll find some Muggle music boxes in Provence."
"I've no need to look for music boxes, Harry," she said. "That's what I have you for."
***
Harry awoke slowly the following morning. He was spooned up behind Draco in bed, and his cock was hard and aching.
"Is that a wand in your pyjamas, or are you simply happy to be in bed with me again?" Draco asked in a sleep-husky voice.
Harry chuckled. "Some things never change, do they?"
"You mean, you still find me devastatingly attractive?"
"No, I mean that you're still an arrogant git."
Draco elbowed Harry in the gut. "Plonker," he grumbled. Draco flung the light covers back and rolled out of bed. "I'm going to shower before we go ashore," he said. "Enjoy your wank, Harry."
***
"How are things at Hogwarts these days?" Draco asked.
They had taken a break from sight-seeing in Provence to have lunch in a charming restaurant.
"Still the same," Harry replied with a shrug. "Horace has threatened to retire again, but this time Minerva believes he's serious. She told me she was making inquiries to replace him."
Draco made a noncommittal, humming noise and lifted a bite of food to his mouth.
Harry's trousers grew tight. Spending so much time with Draco reminded him of how much he'd missed Draco since their divorce. Since before their divorce, actually. Their respective careers had seemed to conspire to keep them apart, and Harry resented that as much now as he had in the past. Why hadn't they tried harder to work things out?
Harry opened his mouth to ask Draco that very same thing, but he was interrupted.
"Cousin Draco! Harry! There you are!" called out Draco's cousin Marcel. He was accompanied by his own guest, a bloke by the name of Denis. Draco pronounced it Duh-NEE; Harry simply called him Denny. It was the addition of Denny to the cruise that had necessitated Harry and Draco sharing a cabin with a single bed.
"May we join you for lunch?" Marcel asked.
Harry was surprised to see a flicker of irritation cross Draco's face. Nevertheless, Draco was as coolly polite as ever. "Please, have a seat," he invited.
It didn't take Harry long to realize why Draco's invitation had been grudgingly made. Denny all but plastered himself to Draco's side, simpering and cooing. It made Harry long to punch him in the face. Only the thought of Draco's and Annemarie's reactions held Harry back. He started when Marcel leaned close and whispered to him.
"They make an adorable pair, non?"
No, thought Harry, but he held his tongue.
"Denis has fancied my cousin for ages, but alas, Draco was married to you," Marcel continued. "Now, however, the two of you are over, and Denis positively begged me for an introduction to my handsome cousin."
Harry struggled to control his temper. At least Draco wasn't encouraging Denny; that would have been unbearable to watch. Harry turned to Marcel and said, "Draco and I may be divorced, but we have agreed to act the loving couple for Granny Annemarie's benefit."
"Ah, but Grandmère is not here now, is she?" Marcel said with a smirk. He winked at Harry and nicked a bite of food from Harry's plate.
***
Harry was in a foul mood by the time they returned to their cabin on the Belle de Mer. Marcel and Denny had accompanied Harry and Draco the rest of their time ashore, affording Denny ample opportunity to flirt with Draco in a manner most outrageous. Harry was on the verge of giving Draco a severe tongue-lashing, but his ex-husband beat him to the verbal punch.
"Harry, are you mad?!"
Harry's mouth fell open. "Wha-?"
"How dare you allow Marcel to flirt with you?! Why, what if Grandmère had seen? She would be so disappointed."
"Marcel?" Harry questioned weakly.
"He confessed to me that he's harbored a tendre for you ever since he met you at Pansy and Andre's wedding," snapped Draco.
"But...but what about you and Denny?" sputtered Harry.
"Denis is obnoxious and juvenile," Draco said with a sneer. "I trust you realize I was doing nothing to encourage his behavior, unlike you and the whispered confidences you exchanged with Marcel."
Harry found himself grinning like a fool. "You're jealous," he stated.
"I most certainly am not," Draco sniffed. He turned away and began unbuttoning his shirt. "I am cross with you, because you're meant to be indulging Grandmère's illusion that we're still happily married."
"Of course, Draco. Whatever you say."
***
Dinner that evening was aboard the yacht. For once, Harry was ousted from his place of honor beside Annemarie. Instead, she was surrounded by the youngest generation, and Harry was relieved to have a break. It was becoming more and more difficult to separate his reality from Annemarie's fantasy. Harry had once lived that perfect life, as a member of this imperfect family. He was once a Malfoy, but now he was an outsider. Harry hadn't realized just how much he'd missed Draco's relatives, even though some of them made him mental. The children had grown, and they were genuinely pleased to see Harry in their midst once more. It reminded him that he and Draco had once discussed adopting a child of their own.
"Stop frowning, Harry," chided Draco. "If Grandmère sees you, she'll think I've kicked you beneath the table."
"I may tell her you did, simply to hear her tear a strip off of you," teased Harry.
Draco pulled a face. "I believe she would," he mused. "I've come to the sobering conclusion that my great-grandmother loves you more than she does me."
Harry couldn't help but laugh, even as he hastened to assure Draco. "What a load of tosh," he said. "Granny Annemarie loves you very much."
"Be that as it may, she positively dotes on you, Harry."
"Yes, but she commends you on your excellent taste," Harry said in return.
"Ah, saved by the pudding," Draco exclaimed, when the waitstaff began bringing the final course into the salon.
Harry chuckled and dipped a spoon into a slice of tiramisu. It seemed he had missed bantering with Draco, too.
***
After dinner that evening, Harry and Draco lingered in the salon with Draco's Desjardins cousins and their respective partners. The children had been spirited away by their grandparents, Algernon and his wife Catherine. Pansy and Andre remained in the salon, along with Collette and Kelwyn. Also in attendance was their sister, Adrienne, and her partner, Sharon. This was the same group who always seemed to convene at every Malfoy family function.
Harry was seated next to Draco on one of the settees in the salon's lounge area. His hand was resting casually on Draco's thigh. Harry tried to tell himself the gesture was for show, but he knew better. He was enjoying the excuse to touch Draco again, to engage in the casual intimacy that was once second nature to them. If Draco minded the contact, he gave no indication. Instead, he was busy visiting with his cousins, laughing at their stories, and drinking the wine that Andre had produced. The atmosphere was relaxed and jovial, and Harry experienced a pang of regret when he realized how much he missed this.
Harry wondered if it could be recaptured. Would Draco be willing, or was he content with his single status? What if Draco did agree to give their relationship another chance? The issues that had separated them still existed. Draco had a successful potions business in London, and Harry was a professor at Hogwarts. They'd once thought that seeing each other on weekends would be sufficient, but it wasn't. They may as well not have been married, and it made more sense to simply call a halt to their relationship.
Harry couldn't ask Draco to give up his business; it wouldn't be fair. He considered the idea of stepping down as DADA instructor at Hogwarts. Harry would miss it, but it was clear that he missed Draco far more. He grimaced when he realized he didn't dare resign now. Minerva was already scrambling to find someone to replace Horace. It would be wrong to make her search for another DADA professor, as well. Maybe Harry could tell Minerva he would teach for one more year. Would Draco be willing to wait that long?
"...another music box?"
Harry blinked and looked up, chagrined to see that Adrienne was addressing him. "Sorry?"
"I asked if you bought Grandmère another music box," Adrienne replied.
"Yes, I found her a fantastic one in London before we left," said Harry.
Sharon leaned forward. "How did you establish a tradition of giving Annemarie music boxes?"
Harry smiled at the memory. "Draco once told me that Annemarie's favorite song is Clair de Lune," he said. "I happened to find a music box that played that particular song, and I gave it to Granny for the hols that year."
"She was completely enchanted by it," Draco added. "Grandmère marveled at how Muggles could create something so wonderful."
"I've given her music boxes ever since," Harry finished with a shrug.
"What a fun tradition," said Collette.
"I think Annemarie is more excited about a music box from Potter than she is about the cruise aboard our yacht," Pansy drawled.
Harry's attention turned to her, but Pansy didn't seem angry so much as faintly bemused.
"Rubbish," scoffed Kelwyn. "Annemarie has been talking about this holiday for weeks now. However, I think she's been more pleased to see the children than she was to see any of us."
The others all laughed, including Harry. It was true; Annemarie enjoyed doting on the children.
"She treated us like royalty when we were young," Andre remarked. He took a sip of wine before adding, "Of course, once we had children, Grandmère switched her devotion to them, the little blighters."
"Don't be bitter, darling," tutted Pansy, patting her husband's knee. "Andrea loves her Grandmère, especially since Annemarie lavishes attention on her. Our own parents don't spend as much time talking to Andrea as Annemarie does."
"You're right about that," Andre agreed. He raised his glass in a toast. "To Grandmère Annemarie!"
"To Grandmère Annemarie!" chorused the others.
***
Harry delayed returning to their cabin, wanting to give Draco a chance to get into bed before he returned. Being in the same room with his ex, while Draco went through the achingly familiar routine of readying himself for bed, was more than Harry could bear. He should have known it would be a mistake to accompany Draco on this voyage of subterfuge. Harry thought he could maintain his distance from Draco and keep things between them platonic, but he'd only been fooling himself. Now, all Harry could think about was stripping Draco bare, laying him down on the bed in their cabin, and losing himself in the sensual delights of Draco's body until this cruise was over.
Harry stood at the railing of the deck, gazing at the waxing moon where it gleamed above the sea. Harry's ring reflected the light, and he caressed the smooth metal with his fingertip. He felt someone approach and turned, hoping that it was Draco.
"Potter."
"Parkinson."
"Are you enjoying our yacht?"
"It's beautiful," Harry replied. "I confess I'm not fond of the name, however."
Pansy lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. "It was not my first choice of name, but Andre would not be dissuaded."
Harry was about to ask her what she'd wanted to name the yacht, when Pansy turned her head and pinned him in place with a cold-eyed glare.
"If you break Draco's heart again, I will Crucio you to death."
Before Harry could reply, Pansy spun and stalked away from him. Harry was left staring after her, feeling completely dumbfounded.
***
It was no surprise when Harry woke up with morning wood again. What did surprise him was when Draco casually asked, "Would you like a hand with that?"
"Sorry?" Harry mumbled. He couldn't have heard Draco correctly.
"Harry, we were married for six years, and we were lovers long before that," said Draco. "I can assure you, it will be no hardship to jerk you off. Besides, I was always fond of your cock, and I've missed it."
Before Harry could formulate a reply, Draco's hand delved beneath the waist band of his pyjama bottoms and wrapped around his cock. Harry groaned, and his hips jolted forward. Harry's cock had apparently missed Draco, too. In a shamefully short amount of time, Harry was coming in his pyjamas.
Draco withdrew his hand and gave Harry a saucy wink. "Dibs on the shower!"
***
On to the rest...