The Reunion (H/D, PG-13)
Title: The Reunion
Author:
sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1286
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Challenge:
hd_falling’s Merry Month of May Fest - "Breathless" for May 1
Warnings: No beta. Please point out any errors you find.
Summary: After five years of living abroad, Harry returns for a class reunion.
Disclaimer: 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.
It had been five years. Five years since he had left England behind. Five years and three months since he had killed Voldemort in the final battle. Five years and two months since they had buried the last of those who had died that day. Five years and one month since he had been awarded his Order of Merlin. Five years and one week since he had been ‘outed’ in the Daily Prophet. Five years since he had decided that fame never really did grow on him.
Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World -- the Gay Saviour as he had been called in that article -- decided that if wizarding England couldn’t think of anything better to put on the FRONT PAGE of the newspaper less than three months after the darkest wizard who ever lived had been killed, he would find himself another place to live. So off to Canada he went, settling in Vancouver. When he saw the mountains, he was hooked. It even had the ocean, and received enough rain to prevent him from feeling too homesick.
Now, five years later, he was walking down the familiar streets of Diagon Alley. He had received an owl from Hogwarts inviting him to a reunion. Within one hour, he had received owls from Ron, Hermione, Neville, Hagrid and Remus urging him to accept and ‘come home‘. He didn’t bother to point out that he was already home, thank you very much. But he accepted just the same. He figured it was high time he stopped in to see the Weasleys too. So here he was, set for a four-week visit. He had left some unfinished business behind five years ago, planning to come back sooner, but hadn’t got around to it. He figured he could finish that up while he was here.
He took care of the business he needed to at Gringott’s, and then set up a few appointments for the following week. Then he made his way to 12 Grimmauld Place. Remus had adamantly refused to take the house when Harry offered, nor would he even agree to a very long-term purchase plan. It was Harry’s house, Remus had said. Sirius had wanted it that way. In the end, he had at least agreed to stay there, while Harry decided what he was going to do with his life. At no point would he accept that Harry might not come back. Harry had pointed out that surely Sirius would want his friend there rather than someone Harry rented to. Remus agreed, and stayed on.
He spent the week catching up with friends, buying some new clothes (Hermione’s idea) for the reunion, and settling back into English life. It felt good to be home. Funny, but he hadn’t thought of England as his home for a few years now. After less than a week, though, he wondered how that had come to be. Vancouver suddenly seemed a world away, and not nearly as inviting. Surrounded by good friends, Harry knew what he had been missing. Still there was an emptiness, but a big part of his heart was full again, now that he was back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived at the Welcoming Ball shortly after eight o’clock on Friday night, to find the party already in full swing. A British band Harry had never heard of was playing, the dance floor was already half full, and he saw many of his former classmates mingling among the guests.
He said a quick hello to McGonagall and Hagrid, promising to catch up with them the next day, then excused himself to join the festivities. All in all, the evening was going well when he heard a familiar voice from behind him.
“Well, well, well. Look who decided to grace us with his presence! If it isn’t our hero, Harry Potter. What, did you get tired of living in obscurity? Decide to come back for a little more fame? I hope you aren’t too disappointed to find that Britain has moved on just fine without you, Potter. Really, we might even be able to make it through a whole decade without you saving us again.”
“Shove off, Malfoy,” said Ron, his back up immediately.
“Oooh, that’s really putting me in my place, isn’t it? I’ll be sure to scamper off now.”
“Aren’t you ever going to grow up, Malfoy?” Hermione asked. “Honestly, you’d think we were back in first year. You‘re twenty three now. Perhaps you could try acting like it.”
“What can I say? Potter brings out the best in me.”
“I haven’t even said a word,” Harry observed. “How can I bring anything out in you?”
“Well, I suppose that’s it then. You ignore me, it gets my back up, and I just need to get in your face. Rather like old times, don’t you think?”
“Whatever, Malfoy.”
“Oh, come now. Surely you can do better than that.”
“Maybe later.” He turned his back on Malfoy, then turned to Ron and Hermione. “I’m going outside for some fresh air. I’ll be back soon.”
“Want some company?” Ron asked hopefully.
“No thanks, mate. I think I’ll just take a walk out by the lake.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry sat looking out at the surface of the lake, clear and still, reflecting the moonlight. There was barely a breeze, the air was just a little cool, and he could hear the music drifting faintly out from the castle.
“May I join you?”
“Would I be able to stop you?”
“Not likely, but you’re welcome to try.”
“Why do you do that, Malfoy? Why must you always push my buttons?”
“I don’t know, Potter. Old habits, I suppose,” Malfoy said as he sat on the ground next to Harry.
“That’s rubbish. We haven’t seen each other in five years. Any habits we had should be long gone by now.”
“Says our hero.” He nudged his shoulder into Harry’s.
“Arrgh! Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” He smirked, and Harry thought he saw a twinkle in his eye.
“I am not a hero, and I never wanted to be.”
“Sure you are. The Daily Prophet says so.”
“You don’t think of me as a hero, so why call me that?”
“Why Potter, I thought you liked being everybody’s hero.” He batted his eyelashes in a mock swoon, resting his head on Harry‘s shoulder.
“You know what, Malfoy? You drive me mad! You always have. Just when I start to relax, you’re there to make me crazy.”
“And how, pray tell, could I make the great Harry Potter crazy?”
“I dunno … when we were kids, you made me feel inadequate, like I couldn’t measure up to my image, and irritated -- you always irritated me. As we grew up, you just made me feel angry and frustrated and exasperated.”
“And now?” Draco asked.
“Now? Now I just feel … mfph!” Draco hadn’t let him finish that last thought, capturing Harry’s lips with his own. Harry’s shock gave way to something entirely different. As he felt Draco’s tongue trail along his lips, Harry’s mouth opened in invitation. Their tongues touched, and something inside Harry ignited. He reached for Draco, pulling his body closer to his, then he lied back, dragging Draco down with him.
Their bodies melded together like they were two parts of a whole. Their tongues explored, tasting, teasing, promising. Harry’s head was spinning out of control, when suddenly something in the back of his mind brought him back to the present. He remembered where they were and he reluctantly pulled away, breaking the kiss, breathing ragged, longing for more.
“So Harry, how do I make you feel now?” Draco asked with a husky voice.
“Breathless.”