Unbearable (H/D, PG-13)
I present you with another very late birthday gift fic, for the awesome, funny, talented, amazing beta and buddy of mine, charmed310, who presented me with my birthday ficlet before I got hers done. Hopefully it's good enough that you forgive me, hon!
Title: Unbearable
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 2055
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco, Hermione
Challenge: For charmed310's birthday prompt of "heart." It also fits the slythindor100 prompt #77 - "forgetful," and my GJ 100_prompts table #059 - "Madness."
Summary: For a brave Gryffindor, Harry still has to get over one of his fears, and Hermione figures she's just the one to help him do that.
Disclaimer: The author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country. The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
"I can't do it, Hermione. I just can't"
"Yes you can, Harry. Take a chance; go talk to him."
"But I have this vision of things going downhill fast."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because he hates me!"
"Like you hate him?"
"That's different!" he insisted.
"How, Harry? How exactly is that different?"
"He has never given any indication that he's interested in me," he explained.
"Oh, and you have?"
"Well …"
"Exactly."
Harry stood rooted to the spot, staring across the room at the object of his desire. Good Lord, had he really thought that? Even his thoughts were venturing into romance novel territory. Object of his desire? More like the hot wizard he was lusting after. Yeah, that was better. No. Not better. He was the boy who had hated him for seven years, the man who had resented him for another two or so, and finally the colleague who tolerated him lately at best. And Harry knew very well that there was more to his feelings than lust.
Just as he was about to turn away, Malfoy caught his eye. Harry panicked and abruptly high-tailed it to the loo, locking himself in a cubicle. Now what? he thought, realizing at once just how ridiculous the entire scene was. He was the consummate Gryffindor, always rushing into things without thinking, brave to a fault. He had defeated Voldemort, he was a highly respected Auror at the Ministry, and yet somehow he found himself hiding in a loo stall, suddenly unable to speak to someone he'd known for half his life.
A slightly nervous chortle turned into outright laughter as he realized just how ridiculous he was being. Still laughing, he exited the stall, washed his hands out of habit, and made to leave the loo, only to come face to face with Draco.
"Care to share the joke, Potter?" he asked, bringing all of Harry's fears back to the surface, and making his stomach plummet. "I could hear you laughing from out here. I have to admit, I was rather afraid of what I might walk in on, so I stayed out here."
Harry couldn't help it; he started to laugh again.
"Did I say something funny, Potter?"
"No … it's just … well, I … never mind." He couldn't figure out how to explain without sounding like a complete idiot, so he stopped talking altogether.
"Articulate as always, Potter."
Harry scowled and stepped away from the door. "It's all yours. Nothing to fear, I assure you."
Harry started to walk away when Malfoy said, "I don't actually need to ..."
"What?" Harry was more than a little confused. "But you just finished saying that you didn't go in because --"
"Yes, well … I followed you."
"Followed me? What for?"
"You were staring, Potter, and I caught you at it. Next thing I know, you're flying out of the room so fast you nearly knocked over a couple of witches on your way out."
"Erm …"
"Quite. So I decided to find out two things."
"And those are?" Harry asked, trying to buy some time.
"Why you felt the need to exit so abruptly and, more importantly, why you were staring at me in the first place."
"You look fine, Malfoy. Nothing untoward sprouting out the top of your head or anything."
"Yes, Potter, I'm well aware of how I look. I, unlike you, use a mirror when I'm getting ready to go out."
Harry turned red at the insult.
"My, Potter, but we are sensitive lately. In the past, that would have garnered at least a failed attempt at a rebuttal."
"It's just ... never mind," Harry said, now blushing furiously, and he left.
Draco stood in the hallway wondering what had just happened. He could have sworn Har-Potter had been staring at him. His Slytherin observational skills were strongly intact, and ... well ... he was quite sure the Gryffindor had, for once, not worn a look of contempt on his face.
When Draco had caught him staring, Harry's eyes had grown wide and he had fled. That alone was strange, since Potter had always been defiant with him. They mutually detested each other -- well, Potter detested him anyway. Lately he ... Draco shook that thought out of his head. Potter would never ... They couldn't ever ... What was the use?
Damn Potter for his inability to keep his emotions to himself! Draco was good at picking up on certain nuances that most would find far too subtle to take note of. But anyone could have figured out that there was something ... different ... about Potter that day. Anyone with half a brain, anyway.
But for some reason Draco didn't trust his instincts, which he knew was a bad sign. If it had been a witch staring at him, he would have presumed she was interested. In fact, if it were any other wizard, he would have thought the same thing. But Potter was different. He had been watching Draco, much like Draco had been watching him, virtually ever since they had met. Only this time it was different.
It had taken a split second for Draco to make his decision to follow Potter out the door. Surprisingly, for an Auror, he had seemed not to notice that he was being followed. Of course, Draco had stayed back so as not to get caught out, but still. He had watched Potter enter the men's toilet at the end of the hall, looked around to make sure no one else was nearby, and just as he was about to enter, he'd heard a stall door slam shut and someone ... Potter start to laugh. Hysterically. He'd sounded suspiciously like someone in St. Mungo's with some sort of spell-induced madness.
Was someone else in there with him? he had wondered. Draco had stood outside the door, waiting for the laughter to subside, formulating the best approach he could in his mind. Before he had had time to figure one out, the door had flung open and he was face to face with Potter. His instincts had kicked in, and though he managed to finally ask Potter why he had been staring at him, it wasn't before said instincts had caused Draco to insult Potter.
Why can't I just talk to him like a normal person? Why must I always lash out at him? He chalked it up to old habits as he looked at the spot where Potter had Apparated from.
"Where's Harry?" asked the approaching figure of Granger.
"How the hell should I know?" Draco snapped.
Granger looked at him like he was to blame. "What? We talked very briefly, and he turned red and Apparated away."
"Oh," she said, looking thoughtful.
Oh? What kind of response is that? It's almost as though she suspected he'd do that. "What do you mean, 'Oh,' Granger?"
"Oh, nothing," she replied, looking anywhere but at him.
"Do you suppose I'm so forgetful that I wouldn't recall your incessant need to insinuate yourself into everyone's lives?"
"Is that how you spoke to Harry?" she accused.
"I think you know something that you're not telling me. Besides, what do you care? That's how we've always talked to each other."
"Yes, but I had hoped that perhaps the two of you might have grown up a bit since school. I suppose it would be too much to expect."
"What?"
"I'll see you around, Malfoy," she said, and she too Apparated away.
"What was with these stupid Gryffindors anyway?" he asked the empty hallway.
At least the incident, as Harry now thought of that embarrassing moment, had happened on a Friday, and he had had the entire weekend to get past it. Or dwell on it, as the case may have been. It was Monday, he had a couple hours of paperwork to finish up, and then he'd be out of the office most of the week. No chance of running into Malfoy. Thank Merlin.
"Potter." Of course, he couldn't be that lucky.
"Malfoy, what do you want?" he asked, weariness evident in his voice. "I haven't even had my morning coffee yet."
"I wanted ... well, you see ... it's just that ..."
Harry grinned. "Articulate this morning, aren't you?"
Malfoy winced. "You seem to have recovered."
"Yes, well, I had the weekend to get my voice back. So what do you want? Going to taunt me about how I look again?"
"I didn't --"
Harry looked at him questioningly. "You didn't what? Didn't insult me? I assure you, I was there, and you did."
Malfoy grumbled something unintelligible.
"Excuse me?"
"I said," Malfoy explained, rather painfully by the look on his face, "I'm sorry about that."
Harry was dumbfounded. "You're ... you're sorry?"
"Yes, Po--Harry, I'm sorry."
"Did you just call me Harry?"
"Look, if you're going to make this harder than --"
"No, no, I'm not. It's just ... well, it's unexpected." His mood was definitely improving. Maybe there was something to what Hermione had said after all.
"Granger said something to me after you left on Friday," Mal--Draco explained.
"Ahh," Harry said knowingly. "That explains a lot." He frowned.
"No, it's not like that. She just said that she thought the two of us might have grown up a bit since school, and ... well ... I got to thinking."
Harry bit back the 'Dangerous ground, there, Malfoy' retort that came naturally to the forefront. "And?" he asked instead.
"And perhaps she has a point."
"Perhaps," Harry conceded. "So why was it that you came chasing after me on Friday?"
"Chasing? Why -- I'll have you know that you were staring at me! If you had been anyone else, I might have thought you were interested, you know, like that, but then you laughed in my face, and my instincts kicked in, and I started to insult you ... because, well, that's what we do -- at least that's what I do when I'm uncomfortable, isn't it? And then when I tried to explain, you left, and --"
Harry grinned halfway through Draco's tirade and got out from behind his desk, stopping him from continuing by pressing his lips to Draco's softly. It was a chaste kiss, but was effective nonetheless. He pulled back to gauge Draco's reaction.
Draco's mouth opened as though he were about to say something, then closed. Then opened again, then closed. He looked at Harry, then something unexpected happened. He smiled, closed the distance between them, and took Harry's face in his hands. "Do you know how long I've wanted you to do that?"
"Had I known that it would shut you up, I might have tried it years ago," Harry joked.
"Funny, Potter," Draco drawled.
"Back to Potter, am I?"
"When you're insulting me, yes."
"And when I'm kissing you?"
"I don't think I'll be talking much then, do you?"
"Point," Harry agreed. "So, shall we test that theory?"
"Let's," Draco agreed.
Harry didn't need a further invitation as he leaned in to capture Draco's mouth. This time it was anything but chaste. Their lips brushed each other's in tender kisses, full of unspoken desire. Harry felt his heart begin to race. He tentatively pressed his tongue to Draco's lips, tracing the supple flesh until he felt Draco's join his own. A sensation not unlike a wave of magic surged through him at the contact, and Harry was lost. Their tongues danced together, exploring new and welcome territory, eliciting moans from both of them.
It was over far too soon, but as they broke apart, both flushed and slightly out of breath, the reality of where they were washed over them. Draco was the first to speak.
"Well," he offered.
"That was ..." Harry was afraid to say to much and scare Draco away.
"Perfect," Draco said, barely over a whisper.
Harry's face broke out into a grin. "Yeah, it was."
"So ... dinner?"
"Meet you here at five o'clock?"
"See you then." Draco leaned in and gave Harry another soft kiss, and then he was gone.
Harry had difficulty concentrating after that, his thoughts on that amazing kiss and their first date that evening. He groaned to himself. Hermione would be unbearable now, he thought. In the end, he smiled, figuring they could handle it ... together.
.
Title: Unbearable
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 2055
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco, Hermione
Challenge: For charmed310's birthday prompt of "heart." It also fits the slythindor100 prompt #77 - "forgetful," and my GJ 100_prompts table #059 - "Madness."
Summary: For a brave Gryffindor, Harry still has to get over one of his fears, and Hermione figures she's just the one to help him do that.
Disclaimer: The author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country. The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
"I can't do it, Hermione. I just can't"
"Yes you can, Harry. Take a chance; go talk to him."
"But I have this vision of things going downhill fast."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because he hates me!"
"Like you hate him?"
"That's different!" he insisted.
"How, Harry? How exactly is that different?"
"He has never given any indication that he's interested in me," he explained.
"Oh, and you have?"
"Well …"
"Exactly."
Harry stood rooted to the spot, staring across the room at the object of his desire. Good Lord, had he really thought that? Even his thoughts were venturing into romance novel territory. Object of his desire? More like the hot wizard he was lusting after. Yeah, that was better. No. Not better. He was the boy who had hated him for seven years, the man who had resented him for another two or so, and finally the colleague who tolerated him lately at best. And Harry knew very well that there was more to his feelings than lust.
Just as he was about to turn away, Malfoy caught his eye. Harry panicked and abruptly high-tailed it to the loo, locking himself in a cubicle. Now what? he thought, realizing at once just how ridiculous the entire scene was. He was the consummate Gryffindor, always rushing into things without thinking, brave to a fault. He had defeated Voldemort, he was a highly respected Auror at the Ministry, and yet somehow he found himself hiding in a loo stall, suddenly unable to speak to someone he'd known for half his life.
A slightly nervous chortle turned into outright laughter as he realized just how ridiculous he was being. Still laughing, he exited the stall, washed his hands out of habit, and made to leave the loo, only to come face to face with Draco.
"Care to share the joke, Potter?" he asked, bringing all of Harry's fears back to the surface, and making his stomach plummet. "I could hear you laughing from out here. I have to admit, I was rather afraid of what I might walk in on, so I stayed out here."
Harry couldn't help it; he started to laugh again.
"Did I say something funny, Potter?"
"No … it's just … well, I … never mind." He couldn't figure out how to explain without sounding like a complete idiot, so he stopped talking altogether.
"Articulate as always, Potter."
Harry scowled and stepped away from the door. "It's all yours. Nothing to fear, I assure you."
Harry started to walk away when Malfoy said, "I don't actually need to ..."
"What?" Harry was more than a little confused. "But you just finished saying that you didn't go in because --"
"Yes, well … I followed you."
"Followed me? What for?"
"You were staring, Potter, and I caught you at it. Next thing I know, you're flying out of the room so fast you nearly knocked over a couple of witches on your way out."
"Erm …"
"Quite. So I decided to find out two things."
"And those are?" Harry asked, trying to buy some time.
"Why you felt the need to exit so abruptly and, more importantly, why you were staring at me in the first place."
"You look fine, Malfoy. Nothing untoward sprouting out the top of your head or anything."
"Yes, Potter, I'm well aware of how I look. I, unlike you, use a mirror when I'm getting ready to go out."
Harry turned red at the insult.
"My, Potter, but we are sensitive lately. In the past, that would have garnered at least a failed attempt at a rebuttal."
"It's just ... never mind," Harry said, now blushing furiously, and he left.
Draco stood in the hallway wondering what had just happened. He could have sworn Har-Potter had been staring at him. His Slytherin observational skills were strongly intact, and ... well ... he was quite sure the Gryffindor had, for once, not worn a look of contempt on his face.
When Draco had caught him staring, Harry's eyes had grown wide and he had fled. That alone was strange, since Potter had always been defiant with him. They mutually detested each other -- well, Potter detested him anyway. Lately he ... Draco shook that thought out of his head. Potter would never ... They couldn't ever ... What was the use?
Damn Potter for his inability to keep his emotions to himself! Draco was good at picking up on certain nuances that most would find far too subtle to take note of. But anyone could have figured out that there was something ... different ... about Potter that day. Anyone with half a brain, anyway.
But for some reason Draco didn't trust his instincts, which he knew was a bad sign. If it had been a witch staring at him, he would have presumed she was interested. In fact, if it were any other wizard, he would have thought the same thing. But Potter was different. He had been watching Draco, much like Draco had been watching him, virtually ever since they had met. Only this time it was different.
It had taken a split second for Draco to make his decision to follow Potter out the door. Surprisingly, for an Auror, he had seemed not to notice that he was being followed. Of course, Draco had stayed back so as not to get caught out, but still. He had watched Potter enter the men's toilet at the end of the hall, looked around to make sure no one else was nearby, and just as he was about to enter, he'd heard a stall door slam shut and someone ... Potter start to laugh. Hysterically. He'd sounded suspiciously like someone in St. Mungo's with some sort of spell-induced madness.
Was someone else in there with him? he had wondered. Draco had stood outside the door, waiting for the laughter to subside, formulating the best approach he could in his mind. Before he had had time to figure one out, the door had flung open and he was face to face with Potter. His instincts had kicked in, and though he managed to finally ask Potter why he had been staring at him, it wasn't before said instincts had caused Draco to insult Potter.
Why can't I just talk to him like a normal person? Why must I always lash out at him? He chalked it up to old habits as he looked at the spot where Potter had Apparated from.
"Where's Harry?" asked the approaching figure of Granger.
"How the hell should I know?" Draco snapped.
Granger looked at him like he was to blame. "What? We talked very briefly, and he turned red and Apparated away."
"Oh," she said, looking thoughtful.
Oh? What kind of response is that? It's almost as though she suspected he'd do that. "What do you mean, 'Oh,' Granger?"
"Oh, nothing," she replied, looking anywhere but at him.
"Do you suppose I'm so forgetful that I wouldn't recall your incessant need to insinuate yourself into everyone's lives?"
"Is that how you spoke to Harry?" she accused.
"I think you know something that you're not telling me. Besides, what do you care? That's how we've always talked to each other."
"Yes, but I had hoped that perhaps the two of you might have grown up a bit since school. I suppose it would be too much to expect."
"What?"
"I'll see you around, Malfoy," she said, and she too Apparated away.
"What was with these stupid Gryffindors anyway?" he asked the empty hallway.
At least the incident, as Harry now thought of that embarrassing moment, had happened on a Friday, and he had had the entire weekend to get past it. Or dwell on it, as the case may have been. It was Monday, he had a couple hours of paperwork to finish up, and then he'd be out of the office most of the week. No chance of running into Malfoy. Thank Merlin.
"Potter." Of course, he couldn't be that lucky.
"Malfoy, what do you want?" he asked, weariness evident in his voice. "I haven't even had my morning coffee yet."
"I wanted ... well, you see ... it's just that ..."
Harry grinned. "Articulate this morning, aren't you?"
Malfoy winced. "You seem to have recovered."
"Yes, well, I had the weekend to get my voice back. So what do you want? Going to taunt me about how I look again?"
"I didn't --"
Harry looked at him questioningly. "You didn't what? Didn't insult me? I assure you, I was there, and you did."
Malfoy grumbled something unintelligible.
"Excuse me?"
"I said," Malfoy explained, rather painfully by the look on his face, "I'm sorry about that."
Harry was dumbfounded. "You're ... you're sorry?"
"Yes, Po--Harry, I'm sorry."
"Did you just call me Harry?"
"Look, if you're going to make this harder than --"
"No, no, I'm not. It's just ... well, it's unexpected." His mood was definitely improving. Maybe there was something to what Hermione had said after all.
"Granger said something to me after you left on Friday," Mal--Draco explained.
"Ahh," Harry said knowingly. "That explains a lot." He frowned.
"No, it's not like that. She just said that she thought the two of us might have grown up a bit since school, and ... well ... I got to thinking."
Harry bit back the 'Dangerous ground, there, Malfoy' retort that came naturally to the forefront. "And?" he asked instead.
"And perhaps she has a point."
"Perhaps," Harry conceded. "So why was it that you came chasing after me on Friday?"
"Chasing? Why -- I'll have you know that you were staring at me! If you had been anyone else, I might have thought you were interested, you know, like that, but then you laughed in my face, and my instincts kicked in, and I started to insult you ... because, well, that's what we do -- at least that's what I do when I'm uncomfortable, isn't it? And then when I tried to explain, you left, and --"
Harry grinned halfway through Draco's tirade and got out from behind his desk, stopping him from continuing by pressing his lips to Draco's softly. It was a chaste kiss, but was effective nonetheless. He pulled back to gauge Draco's reaction.
Draco's mouth opened as though he were about to say something, then closed. Then opened again, then closed. He looked at Harry, then something unexpected happened. He smiled, closed the distance between them, and took Harry's face in his hands. "Do you know how long I've wanted you to do that?"
"Had I known that it would shut you up, I might have tried it years ago," Harry joked.
"Funny, Potter," Draco drawled.
"Back to Potter, am I?"
"When you're insulting me, yes."
"And when I'm kissing you?"
"I don't think I'll be talking much then, do you?"
"Point," Harry agreed. "So, shall we test that theory?"
"Let's," Draco agreed.
Harry didn't need a further invitation as he leaned in to capture Draco's mouth. This time it was anything but chaste. Their lips brushed each other's in tender kisses, full of unspoken desire. Harry felt his heart begin to race. He tentatively pressed his tongue to Draco's lips, tracing the supple flesh until he felt Draco's join his own. A sensation not unlike a wave of magic surged through him at the contact, and Harry was lost. Their tongues danced together, exploring new and welcome territory, eliciting moans from both of them.
It was over far too soon, but as they broke apart, both flushed and slightly out of breath, the reality of where they were washed over them. Draco was the first to speak.
"Well," he offered.
"That was ..." Harry was afraid to say to much and scare Draco away.
"Perfect," Draco said, barely over a whisper.
Harry's face broke out into a grin. "Yeah, it was."
"So ... dinner?"
"Meet you here at five o'clock?"
"See you then." Draco leaned in and gave Harry another soft kiss, and then he was gone.
Harry had difficulty concentrating after that, his thoughts on that amazing kiss and their first date that evening. He groaned to himself. Hermione would be unbearable now, he thought. In the end, he smiled, figuring they could handle it ... together.
.