Christmas 2016 Fic: Reset (H/D, rated R) - Part 11
Title: Reset - Part 11
Author: sesheta_66
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R overall
Word Count: ~20K overall
Summary: Forgetting the past isn't always possible or practical. Dwelling on it isn't constructive. Moving beyond it, into what lies ahead, can be just the thing to help us heal. And friends? Well, they make it all - past, present and future - worth living.
Author's Notes: Written for dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, prompts #13: Work Christmas party with spiked punch and #28: bringing joy to orphans (take 2), and slythindor100's 25 Days of Draco and Harry, prompts #19: flaming plum pudding and #20: hot chocolate.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
Reset - Part 11
The rest of the day floated by in a cloud of unreality. Harry watched as Draco and Ron made a half dozen replica Harrys for some star-struck first- and second-years, despite his protests. Making one to take the mickey was one thing, but this was ridiculous. And to top it off, they expected him to finish each one off with his signature hair.
"At least if we do it," Draco reasoned, "we'll get it right."
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Left up to the Ministry, these would be pin-up body-builder Harrys that crackled with unrestrained magical powers."
Draco raised his brows and gave Harry a once-over, from his unkempt hair down to his toes and back up again, landing on his scar. Harry shivered at the inspection. Draco grinned crookedly at him. "Instead of speccy gits."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm so pleased you've taken this task to heart. Remind me again why you're making these?"
"You should sell them," Seamus offered, ignoring Harry completely. "I bet they'd fly off the shelves, literally, faster than you could make them."
"No," Harry said, horrified at the prospect that these replicas of him would be for sale for just anyone to buy.
Draco groaned. "That's a horrible pun, Finnegan, but not a bad idea."
Oh, for the love of -- "No."
"Everyone could have an authentic Harry Potter," Ron added cheerily. Harry's hand itched to clip him upside the head.
"Is anyone listening to me? I said no!"
Draco looked genuinely surprised. "Why not?"
He can't be serious. They're all mad. "I don't want collectables of me out there."
The three of them laughed. "Er, Harry," Ron ventured when he saw that Harry wasn't laughing and was, indeed, serious, "you do know they're already out there, right?"
Surely he'd heard wrong. "What are you talking about?"
"They're all over the place," Seamus said, sounding quite pleased. "Not nearly as authentic looking as these ones, but still. Didn't you see them when you were in Hogsmeade today?"
Harry thought about the displays he saw but recalled none of him. Not that he'd paid much attention to anything except what he'd set his mind on buying. He'd been rather focussed. "Er, no."
"Surprising, because they're everywhere."
"What?" Why hadn't anyone told him before now? More importantly, how did he not notice if they were everywhere? To be fair, he hadn't exactly been shopping for Christmas ornaments or action figures or whatever the hell these things were, but still. He looked at the pile gathered on the table and wondered how many of these they'd managed to make without him noticing. "Exactly how long have you been making them?"
Ron frowned. "Just today, mate." He pointed his thumb behind him. "Blame them."
Seamus motioned to a table on the other side of the room, where some girls were hiding behind mugs of hot chocolate, looking at Harry and whispering. "The firsties over there were whining about how pricey they were, so we thought, why not? But I left the actual work to these two."
Harry looked to Ron and Draco but all they did was shrug and smirk at him.
He felt suddenly queasy. How was this his life now, with people buying toy figures of him? "Let me get this straight: somebody out there is making toy figures of me and selling them all over the place." They all nodded, looking very amused. Harry was not. "So what makes you think they'll sell off the shelves, if there are already so many out there?"
Seamus looked at him pityingly. "Seriously, Harry? Everybody loves a hero and you're the biggest one yet."
Draco snorted. Harry glared but doubted it had much impact, what with all the blood rushing to his cheeks. "I was just one person."
"Yeah," Ron said, "the Chosen One. And if we're selling the only ones approved by the Saviour himself -"
"Don't forget spelled by him personally," Draco added, quite unhelpfully.
"We could make a fortune," Ron said dreamily.
Harry scowled, but before he could say anything, Draco spoke up. "Wouldn't you rather control the process than have other people making money off your name and likeness?"
Harry looked incredulous. Wasn't that exactly what they were proposing?
Draco picked up on his reaction and offered - Merlin help him - what might be the perfect compromise. "You can donate the proceeds to charity."
Ron choked and Seamus groaned, but Harry found himself wavering.
"We could make a limited edition," Draco went on, "and sell only a hundred or so, all with the authentic Harry Potter spellwork, and make it a big promotional thing. Raise awareness for whatever charity you'd like, something close to your heart."
Bloody Slytherin.
Harry thought immediately of the carriages in Hogsmeade and the War Orphans Christmas Fund. If he could help them have a better Christmas ...
"I'm sure Granger would be happy to help with the logistics," Draco added.
This was a stupid, stupid idea. And yet … he had been hoping to do something meaningful for all the people hurt during the war and this could be a start. What did he have to lose if these ridiculous toys were already out there? Not that it would stop anyone else selling other figures of him, apparently - though why anyone would want one still baffled him - but if he agreed to this it might put a dent in their profits and at least the money would go to a good cause.
Draco looked at him hopefully. Bloody hell. This had all the makings for an unmitigated disaster. He couldn't believe he was seriously considering this.
One more look at Draco's undoubtedly manipulative, but no less endearing, expression and he caved. "Fine. I'll do it."
Seamus' jaw dropped: he was clearly not expecting Harry to say yes. And Ron was close to tears, his get-rich-quick dream dissolving before his eyes.
Harry pointed at Draco, trying to sound less whipped than he clearly was. "But I'm not happy about it." Draco merely grinned in triumph.
***
Harry and Draco spent the week that followed acting like the kiss had never happened. As though nothing had changed even though everything had, at least for Harry. He'd already been preoccupied by his growing feelings for Draco, but that kiss had shifted his entire world off its axis. But neither of them brought it up, instead spending the days focussing on the piles of homework all of their teachers had loaded onto them. Apparently it was important to cram the NEWT students full of whatever information they could before Christmas, lest some of the knowledge that had accidentally made its way into their brains drained away during the holiday. And still, despite all the work and the fact that his head threatened to explode from overload, every time Harry had a free moment, his mind went back to that kiss they'd shared. And when he went to bed, his dreams were worse - or rather, better and more detailed and vivid - than before.
Harry didn't want to let it go, he wanted to talk about it, but didn't know what to say or how to begin. In the end, he figured it might be better left alone. So much for Gryffindor courage. Draco hadn't said anything and it was obviously not bothering him. And then every time Harry imagined a conversation in his head - Draco articulate and expressive and Harry bumbling around for the right words to say - his doubts came flooding back. The more iterations he went through, the clearer it became to him that he had no business being with someone like Draco anyway. He deserved someone that could hold his own in Draco's world. Harry still struggled to hold his own in the wizarding world, despite everything that'd happened since that fateful day when Hagrid had shown up at his door.
***
The following Saturday night, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Draco, Seamus, Dean, Neville and Luna descended on Hogsmeade for the W3 party. They'd asked a handful of others to come along as well, but George's reputation as a practical joker - and their own experiences with his products - made them wary. While not strictly required, Harry had obtained McGonagall's approval, since they'd be out so late. She'd thought it was a good idea and told him and the others to have a good time.
True to form, Seamus had once again spiked every drink in the place. He'd even added more to the plum pudding, despite the fact it was already drowning in alcohol - so much so that when George lit the pudding, it was a good thing a still somewhat sober Verity and her handy-dandy wand were on the spot to ensure the shop didn't burst into flames. The pudding burned to a crisp, but the shop made it through unscathed. Particularly potent was the punch, which Draco had taken a keen liking to. From across the room, Harry watched him deep in conversation with Hermione - no doubt working out the logistics of the mini-Harry sale, gods save him - and when he caught Harry watching, he grinned stupidly back. Harry tried to focus on something else but failed miserably.
Harry hadn't asked Ron about his sudden change of heart where Draco was concerned, not wanting to look a gift Thestral in the mouth, but now, with alcohol-reduced inhibitions suggesting it would be a brilliant idea, Harry leaned over and mumbled in his ear.
"So what's up with you and Draco? Why so chummy all of a sudden?"
Ron looked across the room, then squinted as though trying to bring Draco into focus. "Malfoy's not s'bad, really."
"I know that," Harry said, equally relieved and confused by Ron's words. "But you hate him."
Ron shook his head a bit too hard and nearly toppled off his chair. Harry put a hand out to steady him. "I think he hates himself more than I ever could."
Harry was about to ask him to explain when Ron jumped up and crossed the room - remarkably steadily for someone who'd nearly fallen from a sitting position a moment ago - pulling Hermione up to dance awkwardly with him to Seamus' rendition of Frosty the Snowman (and his various body parts) and leaving Harry to wonder just what he'd meant.
A moment later, Draco crossed the floor and plunked himself next to Harry. "You keep staring at me," he announced, though Harry couldn't tell if he was annoyed or amused by the fact.
He thought about denying it, but he wasn't exactly known for his subtlety. "It's my job, isn't it?"
Draco tried to scowl but the full effect was lost as he kept swaying back and forth. "Come again?"
"The last time Seamus' skills at spiking drinks affected you," Harry reminded him, "you blamed me for not saving you from yourself, remember?"
"Yes!" He held up a finger then went cross-eyed as only the really inebriated do when something catches their eye. Harry snorted and Draco pouted adorably. "I don't think you're doing a very good job tonight either."
Harry grabbed hold of his hand and gently lowered it. "Perhaps not, but you’re safe with everyone here."
A soft buzzing sounded and Draco looked up. Harry followed his gaze and just as he registered the familiar plant hovering above them, Draco grabbed hold of his shirt with both hands, grinned wickedly, and pulled him in for a kiss.
Part 12
Author: sesheta_66
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R overall
Word Count: ~20K overall
Summary: Forgetting the past isn't always possible or practical. Dwelling on it isn't constructive. Moving beyond it, into what lies ahead, can be just the thing to help us heal. And friends? Well, they make it all - past, present and future - worth living.
Author's Notes: Written for dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, prompts #13: Work Christmas party with spiked punch and #28: bringing joy to orphans (take 2), and slythindor100's 25 Days of Draco and Harry, prompts #19: flaming plum pudding and #20: hot chocolate.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
Reset - Part 11
The rest of the day floated by in a cloud of unreality. Harry watched as Draco and Ron made a half dozen replica Harrys for some star-struck first- and second-years, despite his protests. Making one to take the mickey was one thing, but this was ridiculous. And to top it off, they expected him to finish each one off with his signature hair.
"At least if we do it," Draco reasoned, "we'll get it right."
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Left up to the Ministry, these would be pin-up body-builder Harrys that crackled with unrestrained magical powers."
Draco raised his brows and gave Harry a once-over, from his unkempt hair down to his toes and back up again, landing on his scar. Harry shivered at the inspection. Draco grinned crookedly at him. "Instead of speccy gits."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm so pleased you've taken this task to heart. Remind me again why you're making these?"
"You should sell them," Seamus offered, ignoring Harry completely. "I bet they'd fly off the shelves, literally, faster than you could make them."
"No," Harry said, horrified at the prospect that these replicas of him would be for sale for just anyone to buy.
Draco groaned. "That's a horrible pun, Finnegan, but not a bad idea."
Oh, for the love of -- "No."
"Everyone could have an authentic Harry Potter," Ron added cheerily. Harry's hand itched to clip him upside the head.
"Is anyone listening to me? I said no!"
Draco looked genuinely surprised. "Why not?"
He can't be serious. They're all mad. "I don't want collectables of me out there."
The three of them laughed. "Er, Harry," Ron ventured when he saw that Harry wasn't laughing and was, indeed, serious, "you do know they're already out there, right?"
Surely he'd heard wrong. "What are you talking about?"
"They're all over the place," Seamus said, sounding quite pleased. "Not nearly as authentic looking as these ones, but still. Didn't you see them when you were in Hogsmeade today?"
Harry thought about the displays he saw but recalled none of him. Not that he'd paid much attention to anything except what he'd set his mind on buying. He'd been rather focussed. "Er, no."
"Surprising, because they're everywhere."
"What?" Why hadn't anyone told him before now? More importantly, how did he not notice if they were everywhere? To be fair, he hadn't exactly been shopping for Christmas ornaments or action figures or whatever the hell these things were, but still. He looked at the pile gathered on the table and wondered how many of these they'd managed to make without him noticing. "Exactly how long have you been making them?"
Ron frowned. "Just today, mate." He pointed his thumb behind him. "Blame them."
Seamus motioned to a table on the other side of the room, where some girls were hiding behind mugs of hot chocolate, looking at Harry and whispering. "The firsties over there were whining about how pricey they were, so we thought, why not? But I left the actual work to these two."
Harry looked to Ron and Draco but all they did was shrug and smirk at him.
He felt suddenly queasy. How was this his life now, with people buying toy figures of him? "Let me get this straight: somebody out there is making toy figures of me and selling them all over the place." They all nodded, looking very amused. Harry was not. "So what makes you think they'll sell off the shelves, if there are already so many out there?"
Seamus looked at him pityingly. "Seriously, Harry? Everybody loves a hero and you're the biggest one yet."
Draco snorted. Harry glared but doubted it had much impact, what with all the blood rushing to his cheeks. "I was just one person."
"Yeah," Ron said, "the Chosen One. And if we're selling the only ones approved by the Saviour himself -"
"Don't forget spelled by him personally," Draco added, quite unhelpfully.
"We could make a fortune," Ron said dreamily.
Harry scowled, but before he could say anything, Draco spoke up. "Wouldn't you rather control the process than have other people making money off your name and likeness?"
Harry looked incredulous. Wasn't that exactly what they were proposing?
Draco picked up on his reaction and offered - Merlin help him - what might be the perfect compromise. "You can donate the proceeds to charity."
Ron choked and Seamus groaned, but Harry found himself wavering.
"We could make a limited edition," Draco went on, "and sell only a hundred or so, all with the authentic Harry Potter spellwork, and make it a big promotional thing. Raise awareness for whatever charity you'd like, something close to your heart."
Bloody Slytherin.
Harry thought immediately of the carriages in Hogsmeade and the War Orphans Christmas Fund. If he could help them have a better Christmas ...
"I'm sure Granger would be happy to help with the logistics," Draco added.
This was a stupid, stupid idea. And yet … he had been hoping to do something meaningful for all the people hurt during the war and this could be a start. What did he have to lose if these ridiculous toys were already out there? Not that it would stop anyone else selling other figures of him, apparently - though why anyone would want one still baffled him - but if he agreed to this it might put a dent in their profits and at least the money would go to a good cause.
Draco looked at him hopefully. Bloody hell. This had all the makings for an unmitigated disaster. He couldn't believe he was seriously considering this.
One more look at Draco's undoubtedly manipulative, but no less endearing, expression and he caved. "Fine. I'll do it."
Seamus' jaw dropped: he was clearly not expecting Harry to say yes. And Ron was close to tears, his get-rich-quick dream dissolving before his eyes.
Harry pointed at Draco, trying to sound less whipped than he clearly was. "But I'm not happy about it." Draco merely grinned in triumph.
***
Harry and Draco spent the week that followed acting like the kiss had never happened. As though nothing had changed even though everything had, at least for Harry. He'd already been preoccupied by his growing feelings for Draco, but that kiss had shifted his entire world off its axis. But neither of them brought it up, instead spending the days focussing on the piles of homework all of their teachers had loaded onto them. Apparently it was important to cram the NEWT students full of whatever information they could before Christmas, lest some of the knowledge that had accidentally made its way into their brains drained away during the holiday. And still, despite all the work and the fact that his head threatened to explode from overload, every time Harry had a free moment, his mind went back to that kiss they'd shared. And when he went to bed, his dreams were worse - or rather, better and more detailed and vivid - than before.
Harry didn't want to let it go, he wanted to talk about it, but didn't know what to say or how to begin. In the end, he figured it might be better left alone. So much for Gryffindor courage. Draco hadn't said anything and it was obviously not bothering him. And then every time Harry imagined a conversation in his head - Draco articulate and expressive and Harry bumbling around for the right words to say - his doubts came flooding back. The more iterations he went through, the clearer it became to him that he had no business being with someone like Draco anyway. He deserved someone that could hold his own in Draco's world. Harry still struggled to hold his own in the wizarding world, despite everything that'd happened since that fateful day when Hagrid had shown up at his door.
***
The following Saturday night, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Draco, Seamus, Dean, Neville and Luna descended on Hogsmeade for the W3 party. They'd asked a handful of others to come along as well, but George's reputation as a practical joker - and their own experiences with his products - made them wary. While not strictly required, Harry had obtained McGonagall's approval, since they'd be out so late. She'd thought it was a good idea and told him and the others to have a good time.
True to form, Seamus had once again spiked every drink in the place. He'd even added more to the plum pudding, despite the fact it was already drowning in alcohol - so much so that when George lit the pudding, it was a good thing a still somewhat sober Verity and her handy-dandy wand were on the spot to ensure the shop didn't burst into flames. The pudding burned to a crisp, but the shop made it through unscathed. Particularly potent was the punch, which Draco had taken a keen liking to. From across the room, Harry watched him deep in conversation with Hermione - no doubt working out the logistics of the mini-Harry sale, gods save him - and when he caught Harry watching, he grinned stupidly back. Harry tried to focus on something else but failed miserably.
Harry hadn't asked Ron about his sudden change of heart where Draco was concerned, not wanting to look a gift Thestral in the mouth, but now, with alcohol-reduced inhibitions suggesting it would be a brilliant idea, Harry leaned over and mumbled in his ear.
"So what's up with you and Draco? Why so chummy all of a sudden?"
Ron looked across the room, then squinted as though trying to bring Draco into focus. "Malfoy's not s'bad, really."
"I know that," Harry said, equally relieved and confused by Ron's words. "But you hate him."
Ron shook his head a bit too hard and nearly toppled off his chair. Harry put a hand out to steady him. "I think he hates himself more than I ever could."
Harry was about to ask him to explain when Ron jumped up and crossed the room - remarkably steadily for someone who'd nearly fallen from a sitting position a moment ago - pulling Hermione up to dance awkwardly with him to Seamus' rendition of Frosty the Snowman (and his various body parts) and leaving Harry to wonder just what he'd meant.
A moment later, Draco crossed the floor and plunked himself next to Harry. "You keep staring at me," he announced, though Harry couldn't tell if he was annoyed or amused by the fact.
He thought about denying it, but he wasn't exactly known for his subtlety. "It's my job, isn't it?"
Draco tried to scowl but the full effect was lost as he kept swaying back and forth. "Come again?"
"The last time Seamus' skills at spiking drinks affected you," Harry reminded him, "you blamed me for not saving you from yourself, remember?"
"Yes!" He held up a finger then went cross-eyed as only the really inebriated do when something catches their eye. Harry snorted and Draco pouted adorably. "I don't think you're doing a very good job tonight either."
Harry grabbed hold of his hand and gently lowered it. "Perhaps not, but you’re safe with everyone here."
A soft buzzing sounded and Draco looked up. Harry followed his gaze and just as he registered the familiar plant hovering above them, Draco grabbed hold of his shirt with both hands, grinned wickedly, and pulled him in for a kiss.
Part 12