The Black Retreat [H/D, rated PG-13] - Part 2/2
Author: sesheta_66
Beta: fantasyfiend09
Title: The Black Retreat
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Draco's life as an interior designer was going swimmingly until he found himself having to work with contractor Harry Potter of all people. Surprisingly, they worked well together. Which was the reason Draco had completely taken leave of his senses and asked Potter to help him build something for his mother’s birthday. Pansy's pretty sure there's more to it than meets the eye.
Rating: PG-13
[The Black Retreat - Part 2]
The Black Retreat - Part 2/2
Draco awoke Monday morning from a fitful night of sleep. Details were fuzzy but what rang through clearly were images of Potter. Three nights in a row Potter had haunted his dreams. Flashes of smiles, scowls and spell-casting. Muscles bared as Draco’s mind filled in details that he could only imagine and - he could no longer deny - longed to confirm. Frantic kisses and skin on skin and ... well. He hadn't woken this hard since ... possibly ever.
He glanced at the clock. Fuck. He barely had time for a shower and breakfast before Potter would show up, and then he'd be spending the entire day with the star of his heated dreams.
He climbed into the shower, determined to take the edge off and rid himself of his current condition and, closing his eyes to replay the vivid scene from his nighttime imaginings, he'd barely touched himself before he was spilling his spunk down the drain.
Still shaking from the force of his orgasm, Draco choked down some food, wondering how the hell he was going to spend an entire day with Potter and not wonder if he really looked - and felt - that good under his clothes.
He hadn't planned to leave, but shortly after Potter arrived, bringing with him the scent of sandalwood and a cool spring breeze, Draco found he needed to escape.
"I've got a couple of appointments this morning that my assistant was unable to reschedule. Slipped my mind Friday. You'll be okay on your own for a bit?"
Looking mildly perplexed, Potter recovered quickly. "Sure. I wanted to nail down a location today, so I can do some preliminary wandering about. The property's certainly large enough to keep me busy, and I might even have a few options for you to consider by the time you get back."
"Good. Great. Excellent." Draco scowled at his own inability to articulate himself this morning, then at the useless Floo, wishing he could make a faster escape. "I should be back before noon." And like the coward he was, he fled.
***
He’d barely settled himself at his desk when his blissful retreat was interrupted. "What are you doing here?" Pansy asked as she swooped into his office and sat herself down. Damn it. He didn’t need her grilling him when he was already out of sorts.
Constance hovered outside his door mouthing, I’m sorry. He nodded to let her know he wasn’t angry. Really, it was rather unfair to expect anyone to keep out the likes of his partner when she was determined to get past.
Constance pulled his door shut and he turned his attention back to Pansy. "I work here, thanks."
"Yes, but you cleared your schedule for the week."
He sucked in a breath. "Not a word to Potter. I've just told him I have two appointments this morning."
Pansy narrowed her eyes. Never a good sign. "But wasn't that the whole point of shuffling around your calendar, so you could spend quality time with our saviour?" At his glare, she coughed and backtracked. "I mean to enlist his assistance constructing a gift for your mother?"
He wasn't sure what did it - knowing that his best friend could see through him or that she'd eventually wear him down and get it out of him anyway, more likely a bit of both - but he found himself spilling everything to her. What'd happened on Friday, his dreams, Potter's appearance that morning looking and smelling bloody perfect, and his escape. He'd left out the speediest wank of his life; he did have some pride after all. When he finished, he was drained and out of breath, and Pansy - the bitch - was chuckling and shaking her head.
"What, pray tell, is so funny?"
"You are, darling, naturally."
He frowned. "Explain."
"You and Potter have been doing this dance since, what, sixth year? Fifth? Fourth? Whatever." She waved a hand dismissively before he had a chance to respond. "Doesn't matter. What does matter is that you're both gagging for it and, now that you've got the chance to do something about it, you run away. Honestly."
"I don't follow." And he didn't. "Potter hated me in school." Her brows lifted and he hastily added, "and the feeling was mutual."
She outright laughed at that. In fact, it took her some time to settle down before she spoke again. "You're serious?" He nodded. "We have discussed this before. Many times. Just because you spent years trying to convince yourself that you had no feelings for him, don't think for a moment any of the rest of us bought that. What baffles me is how it's even possible that the two of you spent years following each other around, trying to best each other, coming to blows numerous times, doing everything in your power to get each other's attention, and generally obsessing about one another, and neither of you ever clued in. You've been the focus of each other's lives, off and on, for years. And now you're both fit and - this morning's panic attack aside - mature men. I say it's high time you did something about it."
Draco stared at her resolute expression, trying to process what she'd just said. She might have a point about Draco. But could Potter really want him? There was no point denying that he wanted Potter. If his dreams were any indication, at the very least Draco wanted him in his bed. Possibly more, but he could think about that later. Sure, he'd had fleeting thoughts about the way Potter looked at him or joked with him, but he'd always chalked that up to his own delusions.
"If what you say has even the slightest possibility of being true -"
She snorted. "Please."
He huffed. "Why should I be the one to do something? He's the run-in-without-thinking Gryffindor. Shouldn't he be the one to make the first move?"
She shrugged. "I rather think he has, don't you?"
He ran through all the things that had transpired between them since that original job. All the looks, the innuendo. "But how do I know he's not just joking with me like he does with everyone?"
"You know." She stared at him in that way she had of looking through him like no one else he knew. "The real question is: what are you going to do about it?"
***
Draco returned to the manor as soon as enough time had passed for Potter not to wonder about his appointments. Actually, he'd stayed at the office until Pansy had grown weary of his pacing and had thrown him out.
Potter approached within moments of his return, a wide grin plastered on his face. "I'm so glad you're back," he said and reached for Draco's arm. "C'mon. I want to show you something."
Draco allowed himself to be dragged outside and past the gardens before he tugged his arm free. "Where precisely are you taking me?"
Potter stopped and turned to face him. "To the perfect spot."
Draco took a moment to realise that - of course - Potter meant a perfect location to build, not a spot to ... "Care to enlighten me?"
Potter shook his head. "Nope, it's a surprise."
"Surprise?"
"It's still on the manor property, if that makes you feel better." Potter turned back around and continued walking.
"I figured as much." Draco fell into step behind Potter and found it somewhat disconcerting to be led around his own property. Then again, Potter's clothes fit him much better now than they had back in school, and the view from behind was nothing to complain about.
As they got further from the gardens and Draco registered the direction they were heading, his unease grew. A few minutes later, a familiar tingling began tickling at his legs and he halted. "Potter, stop."
Potter turned around. "We're almost there." He held his arm out towards a sparse growth of trees near the edge of the property.
"I'm not going there." Draco's voice shook slightly and Potter frowned.
"It's okay."
"No, it's not," Draco insisted. "This place creeped me out as a child and I'm not about to go back now after years of successfully avoiding it." Potter looked genuinely baffled by Draco's reaction. "I just ... can't."
Potter walked back to where Draco stood, rigid, trying desperately not to shake as the tingling continued to tease at his legs.
"It's earth magic," Potter said, as though that explained everything. "It's benevolent. It won't hurt you."
Draco scoffed. "Says he who's been blindly running into danger his whole life."
Potter laughed. "That's a fair point," he conceded. "But I've done my research on this already, and I swear to you the magic poses no threat to you." He rubbed the back of his neck before adding, "At least as long as you don't mean it harm."
"You say that like it's sentient."
Potter shrugged. "Magic is sentient. The wand chooses the wizard, remember? And earth magic protects the earth. If you pose no threat, it won't harm you. In fact -" He moved towards the growth of trees "- it enhances your own magic."
Draco watched, transfixed, as Potter stepped between two trees and the air began to swirl around him, his shirt and hair whipping in the wind. He looked directly at Draco, his eyes practically shining. Draco shuddered, afraid of what might be happening. Potter motioned for Draco to join him, but he steadfastly held his ground, shaking his head insistently. "Get out of there, Potter. Now."
Potter scowled but did as Draco asked. He walked up to him and smiled. "Ley line."
Draco relaxed a little now that Potter was away from there. And he seemed to be okay. Draco only just stopped himself from reaching out and touching him to be sure. "What?"
"Ley lines carry the earth's energy - earth magic - underground, all around the world."
"Yes, I know what ley lines are, Potter."
"You probably also know there are numerous ones that converge at Stonehenge. One of those lines runs beneath your property." He pointed to the spot where he'd stood moments before. "Right over there."
"Fucking hell."
"Indeed."
"And it's not harmful?"
Potter shook his head again. "It feels strange, uncomfortable even, to have that much energy pulsing through your body, energising you, but ..."
A thought crossed his mind and he was suddenly sure that Potter remained as big an idiot as he'd been as a child. "Did you go in there earlier? Alone?"
Potter shrugged. "Maybe?"
"You idiot. What if something had happened to you?"
Potter chuckled. "I didn't know you cared."
"It's not funny."
Potter’s face schooled itself into a more sombre expression. "Look at me. I'm fine. In fact, it sort of makes you feel like your internal magic is somehow stronger."
Draco let that settle over him. As a boy he'd stumbled across this part of the property and had been frightened by the feeling of something crawling under his skin. He'd run back to the house and into his grandfather's study. He'd always found that room comforting. When Abraxas had asked what was troubling Draco, he'd told him all about that spot. His grandfather had warned him away in the sternest of tones, the one that wasn't open for debate. He'd instructed Draco never to tell anyone about it and to stay clear. Something in the way his face had contorted made Draco heed his warning.
But now ...
"We can't build it there."
Potter's face fell. "Why not?"
"Even if what you say is true - that the magic means us no harm."
"It's safe," Potter assured him again.
"Nevertheless." Perhaps he and Potter could explore this another time, but as for this project, there was no way. "I love my mother dearly, but she's not someone I would trust with this information."
Now Potter looked very confused. And a little judgemental. "Why not?"
"Really? You can't think of a single reason why I shouldn't tell my mother about this?" When Potter said nothing, he continued. "My mother loves my father. To a fault. Are you starting to see where I'm going with this?" He could nearly smell the smoke as the wheels in Potter's head spun. "She will tell him. Perhaps not now. Perhaps not even when he's released from Azkaban. But eventually she will. And no one - least of all you - wants to see Lucius Malfoy with a way to strengthen his magic. No one."
Potter's face drained of all colour as, no doubt, he imagined what Lucius might attempt if given the opportunity. "Right. I'll say nothing."
Draco let out a long sigh, glad he didn't need to fight Potter on this.
Potter looked back at the spot once more, almost longingly, reluctant to let it go just yet. Eventually, he clapped Draco on the shoulder. "So ... let's pick another spot."
Once they'd decided on the area just beyond the existing gardens, Potter suggested heading out for an early dinner and Draco agreed.
***
When they arrived at the restaurant, Draco ordered a brandy to calm his badly shaken nerves. Potter had a pint. He kept watching Potter for some sign of ill-effects, but he seemed okay. For now. When the waitress took their order, Draco selected a bottle of Shiraz to go with their meal, and was on his third glass before he truly relaxed.
Nearing the end of the meal, and the bottle of wine, Potter broached the topic. "So why were you so ... unnerved by the ley line?"
He should have known Potter couldn't let it go for an entire night. Draco finished the last of his dinner and his wine, motioned to the waitress for another bottle, then wiped his mouth and put his napkin on his plate. "I ran across it as a boy and asked my grandfather about it; his reaction scared me. He told me never to go back and never to tell anyone. And his manner didn't invite further inquiry."
"That's odd."
He sighed. "I could ask him about it." At Potter's bewildered look, he added, "There's a portrait in his study. I'm not sure if he ever imparted the painting with his memory of that place - he may not have, if he wanted no one to know - but if he did, perhaps his portrait could explain why he felt compelled to warn me away."
Potter looked ready to continue the conversation but Draco raised his hand. "I told you earlier, that place creeped me out as a child. Today wasn't any better and I'd rather like to stop talking about it, if that's alright."
Potter's lips tightened, as though he were fighting to keep himself from talking. "Of course."
"In fact, I look forward to washing away that image of the wind swirling around you with another glass or ten of this lovely wine. Perhaps another brandy or two."
Potter laughed. "I'm fine."
"You didn't see what I did."
Potter reached across the table and put his hand over Draco's. "I'm fine."
Draco stared at their hands, wondering if Pansy might have a point. "Yes, well, don't do it again."
"But I -"
"No more talking about it. For now, we have wine, and pudding is still to come."
By the time they'd finished the wine and cake, Draco was in no shape to Apparate and Potter insisted on taking him side-along. When Draco argued, Potter simply shook his head and Apparated them to the manor gates.
***
"You could've splinched me!" Draco said as they landed awkwardly.
"Hardly." Potter continued to hold Draco's arm as he led the way to the front door. "I had a total of three glasses of wine and one beer and we'd been there for hours. I'm fine." And as Draco occasionally leaned onto the arm steadying him, he figured Potter maybe had a point.
When they walked through the door, Potter mumbled something to the house-elf before escorting Draco into the sitting room and depositing him onto the sofa, plunking himself down next to him.
"Your eyes glowed, you know." Draco reached up and touched Potter's left brow.
Potter looked amused. "Did they?"
"Scary shit, that."
Potter took Draco's hand and lowered it away from his face. "I thought you didn't want to talk about it."
"I don't. But you've always done stupid stuff like that and you need someone to tell you not to."
Potter bit his lower lip. "I do?"
Draco wanted to bite Potter's lip. Instead, he nodded and the room spun a bit. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in slowly. When he opened them again, Potter was sitting closer, his face very close, eyes studying Draco's. "You okay there?"
"M'fine." Potter's eyes were really nice up close, not glowing at all. Draco reached up and removed his glasses. Running his two thumbs over Potter's brows, he said, "They aren't glowing now."
Potter smiled. "Is that a good thing?"
Draco grasped Potter's face roughly in his hands and stared into his eyes. "Promise me you'll never do anything stupid like that again."
"I'm fine." The man was infuriating. Always being contrary. Then he reached up and tucked a stray hair behind Draco's ear and Draco stopped breathing. He wasn't even sure if what he did next was a conscious decision, but next moment his lips pressed against Potter's. They were soft and responsive, and a voice that sounded suspiciously like Pansy's cheered inside his head. Draco teased Potter's lips with his tongue to deepen the kiss and when Potter's tongue wrapped around his own, the room began to spin anew.
Far too soon, Potter drew back, preventing Draco from following him with hands on Draco's shoulders. "We shouldn't."
His words felt like a bucket of cold water. Draco pulled back. "I'm sorry. I must have misread -" Bloody Pansy.
Potter chuckled. "I'm not sure what Parkinson has to do with this." Shit. He must have said that out loud. "But you didn't misread anything. It's just ... well, you've had quite a bit to drink and I wouldn't want you to regret -"
Draco snorted. "You think this -" He motioned between them "- is the wine?"
"Maybe a bit of the brandy, too." Draco began to protest but Potter stopped him with a touch of his finger to Draco's lips. "But even if that's not the reason - and I'll admit that I hope it's not - we shouldn't. Not now."
Draco lifted his hand up to pull Potter's finger away from his mouth. Then he licked around the tip of it before drawing it into his mouth, staring at Potter, daring him to pull away. Potter let out a pained groan and Draco grinned in triumph, dragging his teeth lightly and suggestively over Potter's finger.
"Fucking hell, Malfoy." Potter pulled his finger out of Draco's mouth and watched as Draco's tongue danced over his own lips. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" Then he grasped Draco's shirt and pulled him forward, their lips colliding none too gently. Then his tongue was back where it belonged and Draco moaned happily around it. Draco wrapped his arms around Potter's back and drew him closer, not wanting to give him a chance to pull away again. If this were the only chance he ever got, he wanted to make it memorable.
After what could have been a minute or ten or a hundred - he was so lost in the feel of Potter he had no concept of time - once again Draco felt Potter pulling away, albeit more reluctantly than before. He didn't draw completely away, but cradled Draco's face in his palms, peppering his lips with gentle kisses. "I'm leaving now," he said between kisses. "Because if I don't go soon, I won't be able to pull myself away."
"Then don't."
Potter groaned once more. "Hold that thought, yeah?" He dove in for a deeper kiss once more. When they broke free again, he said with a shaky voice, "If you still want this tomorrow -"
"I will."
"Good. Then there's no problem with me leaving now. Your house-elf will leave some hangover potion in your room for the morning. I'm going home to bed."
Draco brought their lips together for a long, lingering kiss full of promise. Then, against every instinct and desire in him, he found himself bending to Potter's will. "We've waited this long. What's another day?"
***
Unfortunately, the next day came and went without either of them so much as saying a word about the kiss. Or the earth magic, for that matter. Draco wanted to, but every time he opened his mouth to say something, his nerve failed him. Sure, Potter had seemed keen enough the night before, but that might have just been the rush of the earth magic. Or the alcohol. He may not have been drunk like Draco, but he’d had a few. Also, he had been the one to stop and say they shouldn’t. Maybe now, in the light of day, he realised that Draco was still Draco and they were better off forgetting the whole thing even happened. It made Draco want to scream in frustration or, better yet, grab the man and get on with some more kissing, but he rather thought he’d made enough of an idiot of himself the night before. If Potter wanted to continue what they’d started, he would have to be the one to act.
Instead, they both remained focussed on business. It was both good and bad. Good because they got a lot done. Bad because Draco was more frustrated than ever. Now that he'd had a taste of Potter, he wanted more. So much more.
Every now and again, he’d catch Potter looking his way, but once their eyes met, Potter turned back to his work, never saying or doing anything. What kind of a Gryffindor was he anyway? As the day progressed, Draco became more convinced that Potter wanted nothing more to do with him - at least not that way. As depressing as that thought was, and as he began to regret not pushing for more the night before - he would have liked to have had at least one night with Potter - Draco decided that he’d make the best of the situation and not ruin what they had. After all, it was better than their previous animosity, and Draco didn’t fancy losing what they’d gained.
***
The next two weeks flew by, with Potter and Draco working from sunup to sundown, still never broaching the topic of their aborted encounter. In fleeting moments here and there, Draco forgot his promise to himself and decided to talk to Potter, whatever the consequences. But it seemed unusually difficult to get a word alone with the man, what with the queue of workmen hovering nearby. Apparently, no one could make a decision without first consulting Potter.
A few times Draco had managed to get him on his own, but before he could work up the nerve to bring up the kiss, more people descended. He was itching to drag Potter off somewhere and snog him senseless, but then he kept hearing Potter say, “We shouldn’t," and he thought perhaps Potter had a point.
Part of the problem - the need for so many hands on site - was the scope of the project. Draco had envisioned a gazebo-like structure, but Potter had grander ideas. Seriously grand ideas. He ended up designing and constructing what for many people would be a home in and of itself.
A scaled down version of a cloistered courtyard, the design called for five joined, covered walkways surrounding a garden or open square - whatever Draco decided upon at a later date - with what would have been the sixth cloister left open and facing the main gardens - specifically the section where Narcissa's favourite flowers and plants grew.
Several narrow rooms extended from each of the stretches of cloistered walkways. A massive greenhouse ran the length of the main walkway along the back. On either side of that in small, angled rooms were the washroom and kitchenette. Completing the structure was a tool shed - complete with work benches for potting - to the right, and what Potter envisioned as a broom/tool shed to the left, facing the clearing where Draco often flew and sometimes played Quidditch. Potter had suggested tearing down the existing broom shed and integrating it into the design, though Draco wasn't completely sold on the idea of benefitting from a gift he was giving his mother. For the time being, they would leave the existing shed where it was and present the room as one for growth.
As Potter worked with his team to erect the structure, Draco could get to work on the interior design. At Potter's suggestion, they'd decided to use local bath stone to be true to the surroundings and to provide them with some malleability insofar as shaping and designing the structure. Now that they'd made all the major decisions, Draco - admittedly reluctantly - had handed over all decision-making on the building to Potter. And now that the structure was in place, the man had the audacity to ban him from the vicinity until he was done with the details! He'd erected a cloaking spell days earlier so that every time Draco approached it, all he saw was a large concrete wall that had KEEP OUT written in large, black letters.
He'd tried threatening, ranting, pouting and sulking, to no avail, so today he opted to work from his office instead.
***
Two hours after he'd arrived, Pansy sauntered into his office and shut the door. "So how are you and Potter getting on?"
"Quite well, actually."
"So ..."
"So, nothing. Absolutely nothing."
She settled on the visitor's chair in his office. "Sounds to me like you're not best pleased by that."
He'd been so busy of late, he hadn't set foot in the office more than twice over the past two weeks, and each time Pansy had been meeting with prospective clients. He hadn't seen her since the kiss. Not sure why, he found himself telling her all about it.
"What? And you didn't tell me straight away?" She positively bounced in her seat. "But that's wonderful!"
"I was drunk. It was stupid."
"Nonsense. He was into it too, right? I mean he only pulled back because he's a stupid, idiot Gryffindor with ridiculous ideas about right and wrong and ... virtue."
Draco snorted at the notion of being considered virtuous. "He hasn't said anything since. Not a word. Hasn't even given me a look that might suggest more."
"And neither have you, right?"
He played with a fabric sample on his desk. "I suppose not."
Pansy snapped her fingers in front of his face, forcing him to look at her. "Has it occurred to you that he might think you've forgotten about it? That you only kissed him because you were drunk?"
"I told him that wasn't the only reason."
"Yes. When you were drunk." She sat back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling. "Salazar save me from idiot men."
"Hey!"
"Go home, kiss him and drag him to your bed. Now."
A certain part of his anatomy approved of that idea. He ignored it. "He's working."
She pursed her lips. "He's working for you. Tell him to take some time off. Then take him to bed." She stood up, came around the desk and pulled Draco to his feet.
Rather than fight her, he allowed himself to be manhandled and he Apparated home.
***
"Master Draco," his house-elf greeted him at the front door. "Master Harry is asking Mimsy to tell you that he is almost done and will be coming to get you soon."
"Thank you, Mimsy. Would you please bring me tea in my office until Master Harry graces me with his presence?"
She bowed, missing his sarcasm entirely. "As Master wishes."
Draco had brought some of his papers with him, so he sat down to review the latest numbers for the business while he waited. It still irked him that he was effectively banished from his own gardens.
A quarter of an hour later, a knock came at the door and he looked up.
"You wear glasses?" Potter asked. He was grinning that grin again. The one that made Draco want to cross the room and pull Potter’s mouth to his own. "They suit you."
Draco removed them. He didn't often allow people to see him wearing them, though Potter wasn't wrong. He'd spent a painstaking length of time getting just the right frames to complement his features. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he adjusted his vision once more. "Only when reading many numbers."
Potter shuddered. "Never a fun task." Draco raised a brow. He actually quite liked numbers. He found them soothing, solid, constant. "So, are you ready to see the finished product?"
Draco found himself smiling. "It's done?"
Potter nodded. "It is. It just awaits your approval and your designing expertise."
Draco got up from his desk and stopped himself from running out the door. "Let's see it then."
As they approached, the wretched concrete slab glared at him. "Seriously?"
Potter laughed. “I wanted you to see it revealed all at once rather than bit by bit as you approached."
"Are you quite finished, now?"
Potter waved a hand and the concrete visage melted away to reveal ... "It's -" Draco had no words as he tried to take it all in. He'd seen the structure before Potter put up that stupid spell. But, as beautiful and imposing as it had been, it could have been a completely different building. The posts - plain and square in the original structure - were carved out to appear like tree trunks, bursting at the tops into branches with carved bath stone leaves. The walkways were no longer covered by straight lines, but by a canopy of trees. It looked alive. "It's stunning!"
"Really? You think so?"
Draco whirled round. "Are you kidding?" he asked incredulously. "I love it. My mother will love it. I can't imagine it being more perfect. You are an absolute genius!"
Potter laughed. "I'll be replaying this memory in my Pensieve for years. Draco Malfoy calling me a genius."
Draco narrowed his eyes while steadfastly trying to stop his mouth from twitching. "I shall deny it, Pensieve or no Pensieve." He lifted his chin defiantly and turned back to take in more details.
"I can't take all the credit," Potter said. "I have to admit to being inspired by Antoni Gaudi. He was a Spanish architect that loved to weave nature into his buildings. I've been waiting for just the opportunity to do this for years."
"Now I know why you hid this. I don't think I would have wanted to see it as it was being created. This has so much more impact all at once." Still, he’d have enjoyed watching Potter create it.
Potter leaned in, so close that Draco could smell his shampoo. "So I'm forgiven?"
On impulse, Draco turned and kissed Potter soundly on the mouth. "Definitely forgiven." Then he turned back, heart racing as he realised what he'd just done. He wanted to bask in the moment, and couldn't bare to see Potter pull away. But Potter didn't pull away. In fact, he scooted up behind Draco, resting one hand on Draco's shoulder and reaching around him to point out details, all the while his breath warm and comforting and teasing on Draco's neck and the warmth of his body a pillar of strength behind Draco.
"And did you see that, above the keystone?"
Draco looked up in the direction Potter pointed. Was that -? He moved closer - reluctant to step away from Potter but eager to to get a good look - to see the details that were hard to decipher when all were of the same material. "The Black family crest?"
Potter had followed him and now stood at his side. "I thought it was a nice touch. You have all the Malfoy heritage and reference you could ever want or need in the main house. This is your mother's place. She should be able to celebrate her own family, don't you think?"
Draco grasped Potter's hand as he tried to reign in his emotions. This was more than he'd even dared to imagine. He could have decorated the place with all sorts of references to the Black family, but this ... this was a dedication of the building itself. He squeezed Potter's hand. "It's perfect."
Potter pulled on their joined hands so that Draco was facing him. His face was positively lit up with energy. "There's more. I have some things back at mine - I live at Grimmauld Place, Sirius' old house - things that you might want to pick through. I thought you might like to incorporate some of the Black heirlooms, at least see what's left that you might be able to use." His face fell a bit. "A lot got pilfered by Mundungus Fletcher when it was being used as Order Headquarters, but there's some stuff left. Kreacher managed to retrieve a few things."
Draco nodded. "It's perfect."
Potter laughed. "You said that already."
"Thank you."
Potter smiled. "My pleasure."
Draco's breath hitched as he read the sincerity in Potter's expression. Pansy was right: there was more there, and he'd been an idiot - they both had been - not to have seen it before. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and kissed Potter. It was a slow build, something that spoke of promises and things he didn't want to spend too much time thinking about right now. As Potter's arms enveloped him and he sank into the feeling of this man in his arms, he was rather glad that his mother wouldn't be home for another week.
Potter drew back and smiled. "I thought ... I'd hoped ..."
"Shut up and kiss me, Potter."
Potter hesitated, turning back to his mother's gift. "But you haven't seen everything."
Draco looked back at the building. "I know, but I've only been waiting a few weeks to see that." He smiled and brushed his shoulder against Potter’s. “I've been waiting years for this."
Potter wrapped his arm around Draco’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “Me too," he said with a smile. Then his lips were on Draco’s and all the doubts and fears fell from Draco’s mind as he poured himself into the kiss.
At length, Draco drew back. He was pleased to see Potter looked as dazed as he felt. “Let’s go upstairs."
As they made their way inside, Potter stopped by the fireplace. "One more thing I forgot to mention."
Draco huffed his annoyance. "Can it not wait?"
Potter chuckled and kissed him softly. "The manor’s Floo is connected again."
"It ... what?"
"I know a guy." Draco rolled his eyes. Of course he did. Who wouldn't be willing to do Harry Potter a favour? "He arranged it at the Ministry's end a couple of days ago and popped by here this morning while you were out to make sure it worked from here. You need only open it and it’ll work."
Draco allowed his eyes to rove over Potter's body. "You know, you've become more useful than I ever would have imagined."
Potter's serious face turned amused. "Have I now?"
Draco smiled widely. "Indeed you have." He ran his fingers through Potter's hair and drew him in for another deep kiss. "Mmm. I may have to find more for you to do so I can keep you around."
Potter smiled. "It might take a very long time to go through all the things at Grimmauld Place."
Draco let his hand run along the length of Potter's side before grasping his hand. As he led the way to his bedroom, he winked and said, "I'm counting on it."
~ FIN ~
Beta: fantasyfiend09
Title: The Black Retreat
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Draco's life as an interior designer was going swimmingly until he found himself having to work with contractor Harry Potter of all people. Surprisingly, they worked well together. Which was the reason Draco had completely taken leave of his senses and asked Potter to help him build something for his mother’s birthday. Pansy's pretty sure there's more to it than meets the eye.
Rating: PG-13
[The Black Retreat - Part 2]
The Black Retreat - Part 2/2
Draco awoke Monday morning from a fitful night of sleep. Details were fuzzy but what rang through clearly were images of Potter. Three nights in a row Potter had haunted his dreams. Flashes of smiles, scowls and spell-casting. Muscles bared as Draco’s mind filled in details that he could only imagine and - he could no longer deny - longed to confirm. Frantic kisses and skin on skin and ... well. He hadn't woken this hard since ... possibly ever.
He glanced at the clock. Fuck. He barely had time for a shower and breakfast before Potter would show up, and then he'd be spending the entire day with the star of his heated dreams.
He climbed into the shower, determined to take the edge off and rid himself of his current condition and, closing his eyes to replay the vivid scene from his nighttime imaginings, he'd barely touched himself before he was spilling his spunk down the drain.
Still shaking from the force of his orgasm, Draco choked down some food, wondering how the hell he was going to spend an entire day with Potter and not wonder if he really looked - and felt - that good under his clothes.
He hadn't planned to leave, but shortly after Potter arrived, bringing with him the scent of sandalwood and a cool spring breeze, Draco found he needed to escape.
"I've got a couple of appointments this morning that my assistant was unable to reschedule. Slipped my mind Friday. You'll be okay on your own for a bit?"
Looking mildly perplexed, Potter recovered quickly. "Sure. I wanted to nail down a location today, so I can do some preliminary wandering about. The property's certainly large enough to keep me busy, and I might even have a few options for you to consider by the time you get back."
"Good. Great. Excellent." Draco scowled at his own inability to articulate himself this morning, then at the useless Floo, wishing he could make a faster escape. "I should be back before noon." And like the coward he was, he fled.
***
He’d barely settled himself at his desk when his blissful retreat was interrupted. "What are you doing here?" Pansy asked as she swooped into his office and sat herself down. Damn it. He didn’t need her grilling him when he was already out of sorts.
Constance hovered outside his door mouthing, I’m sorry. He nodded to let her know he wasn’t angry. Really, it was rather unfair to expect anyone to keep out the likes of his partner when she was determined to get past.
Constance pulled his door shut and he turned his attention back to Pansy. "I work here, thanks."
"Yes, but you cleared your schedule for the week."
He sucked in a breath. "Not a word to Potter. I've just told him I have two appointments this morning."
Pansy narrowed her eyes. Never a good sign. "But wasn't that the whole point of shuffling around your calendar, so you could spend quality time with our saviour?" At his glare, she coughed and backtracked. "I mean to enlist his assistance constructing a gift for your mother?"
He wasn't sure what did it - knowing that his best friend could see through him or that she'd eventually wear him down and get it out of him anyway, more likely a bit of both - but he found himself spilling everything to her. What'd happened on Friday, his dreams, Potter's appearance that morning looking and smelling bloody perfect, and his escape. He'd left out the speediest wank of his life; he did have some pride after all. When he finished, he was drained and out of breath, and Pansy - the bitch - was chuckling and shaking her head.
"What, pray tell, is so funny?"
"You are, darling, naturally."
He frowned. "Explain."
"You and Potter have been doing this dance since, what, sixth year? Fifth? Fourth? Whatever." She waved a hand dismissively before he had a chance to respond. "Doesn't matter. What does matter is that you're both gagging for it and, now that you've got the chance to do something about it, you run away. Honestly."
"I don't follow." And he didn't. "Potter hated me in school." Her brows lifted and he hastily added, "and the feeling was mutual."
She outright laughed at that. In fact, it took her some time to settle down before she spoke again. "You're serious?" He nodded. "We have discussed this before. Many times. Just because you spent years trying to convince yourself that you had no feelings for him, don't think for a moment any of the rest of us bought that. What baffles me is how it's even possible that the two of you spent years following each other around, trying to best each other, coming to blows numerous times, doing everything in your power to get each other's attention, and generally obsessing about one another, and neither of you ever clued in. You've been the focus of each other's lives, off and on, for years. And now you're both fit and - this morning's panic attack aside - mature men. I say it's high time you did something about it."
Draco stared at her resolute expression, trying to process what she'd just said. She might have a point about Draco. But could Potter really want him? There was no point denying that he wanted Potter. If his dreams were any indication, at the very least Draco wanted him in his bed. Possibly more, but he could think about that later. Sure, he'd had fleeting thoughts about the way Potter looked at him or joked with him, but he'd always chalked that up to his own delusions.
"If what you say has even the slightest possibility of being true -"
She snorted. "Please."
He huffed. "Why should I be the one to do something? He's the run-in-without-thinking Gryffindor. Shouldn't he be the one to make the first move?"
She shrugged. "I rather think he has, don't you?"
He ran through all the things that had transpired between them since that original job. All the looks, the innuendo. "But how do I know he's not just joking with me like he does with everyone?"
"You know." She stared at him in that way she had of looking through him like no one else he knew. "The real question is: what are you going to do about it?"
***
Draco returned to the manor as soon as enough time had passed for Potter not to wonder about his appointments. Actually, he'd stayed at the office until Pansy had grown weary of his pacing and had thrown him out.
Potter approached within moments of his return, a wide grin plastered on his face. "I'm so glad you're back," he said and reached for Draco's arm. "C'mon. I want to show you something."
Draco allowed himself to be dragged outside and past the gardens before he tugged his arm free. "Where precisely are you taking me?"
Potter stopped and turned to face him. "To the perfect spot."
Draco took a moment to realise that - of course - Potter meant a perfect location to build, not a spot to ... "Care to enlighten me?"
Potter shook his head. "Nope, it's a surprise."
"Surprise?"
"It's still on the manor property, if that makes you feel better." Potter turned back around and continued walking.
"I figured as much." Draco fell into step behind Potter and found it somewhat disconcerting to be led around his own property. Then again, Potter's clothes fit him much better now than they had back in school, and the view from behind was nothing to complain about.
As they got further from the gardens and Draco registered the direction they were heading, his unease grew. A few minutes later, a familiar tingling began tickling at his legs and he halted. "Potter, stop."
Potter turned around. "We're almost there." He held his arm out towards a sparse growth of trees near the edge of the property.
"I'm not going there." Draco's voice shook slightly and Potter frowned.
"It's okay."
"No, it's not," Draco insisted. "This place creeped me out as a child and I'm not about to go back now after years of successfully avoiding it." Potter looked genuinely baffled by Draco's reaction. "I just ... can't."
Potter walked back to where Draco stood, rigid, trying desperately not to shake as the tingling continued to tease at his legs.
"It's earth magic," Potter said, as though that explained everything. "It's benevolent. It won't hurt you."
Draco scoffed. "Says he who's been blindly running into danger his whole life."
Potter laughed. "That's a fair point," he conceded. "But I've done my research on this already, and I swear to you the magic poses no threat to you." He rubbed the back of his neck before adding, "At least as long as you don't mean it harm."
"You say that like it's sentient."
Potter shrugged. "Magic is sentient. The wand chooses the wizard, remember? And earth magic protects the earth. If you pose no threat, it won't harm you. In fact -" He moved towards the growth of trees "- it enhances your own magic."
Draco watched, transfixed, as Potter stepped between two trees and the air began to swirl around him, his shirt and hair whipping in the wind. He looked directly at Draco, his eyes practically shining. Draco shuddered, afraid of what might be happening. Potter motioned for Draco to join him, but he steadfastly held his ground, shaking his head insistently. "Get out of there, Potter. Now."
Potter scowled but did as Draco asked. He walked up to him and smiled. "Ley line."
Draco relaxed a little now that Potter was away from there. And he seemed to be okay. Draco only just stopped himself from reaching out and touching him to be sure. "What?"
"Ley lines carry the earth's energy - earth magic - underground, all around the world."
"Yes, I know what ley lines are, Potter."
"You probably also know there are numerous ones that converge at Stonehenge. One of those lines runs beneath your property." He pointed to the spot where he'd stood moments before. "Right over there."
"Fucking hell."
"Indeed."
"And it's not harmful?"
Potter shook his head again. "It feels strange, uncomfortable even, to have that much energy pulsing through your body, energising you, but ..."
A thought crossed his mind and he was suddenly sure that Potter remained as big an idiot as he'd been as a child. "Did you go in there earlier? Alone?"
Potter shrugged. "Maybe?"
"You idiot. What if something had happened to you?"
Potter chuckled. "I didn't know you cared."
"It's not funny."
Potter’s face schooled itself into a more sombre expression. "Look at me. I'm fine. In fact, it sort of makes you feel like your internal magic is somehow stronger."
Draco let that settle over him. As a boy he'd stumbled across this part of the property and had been frightened by the feeling of something crawling under his skin. He'd run back to the house and into his grandfather's study. He'd always found that room comforting. When Abraxas had asked what was troubling Draco, he'd told him all about that spot. His grandfather had warned him away in the sternest of tones, the one that wasn't open for debate. He'd instructed Draco never to tell anyone about it and to stay clear. Something in the way his face had contorted made Draco heed his warning.
But now ...
"We can't build it there."
Potter's face fell. "Why not?"
"Even if what you say is true - that the magic means us no harm."
"It's safe," Potter assured him again.
"Nevertheless." Perhaps he and Potter could explore this another time, but as for this project, there was no way. "I love my mother dearly, but she's not someone I would trust with this information."
Now Potter looked very confused. And a little judgemental. "Why not?"
"Really? You can't think of a single reason why I shouldn't tell my mother about this?" When Potter said nothing, he continued. "My mother loves my father. To a fault. Are you starting to see where I'm going with this?" He could nearly smell the smoke as the wheels in Potter's head spun. "She will tell him. Perhaps not now. Perhaps not even when he's released from Azkaban. But eventually she will. And no one - least of all you - wants to see Lucius Malfoy with a way to strengthen his magic. No one."
Potter's face drained of all colour as, no doubt, he imagined what Lucius might attempt if given the opportunity. "Right. I'll say nothing."
Draco let out a long sigh, glad he didn't need to fight Potter on this.
Potter looked back at the spot once more, almost longingly, reluctant to let it go just yet. Eventually, he clapped Draco on the shoulder. "So ... let's pick another spot."
Once they'd decided on the area just beyond the existing gardens, Potter suggested heading out for an early dinner and Draco agreed.
***
When they arrived at the restaurant, Draco ordered a brandy to calm his badly shaken nerves. Potter had a pint. He kept watching Potter for some sign of ill-effects, but he seemed okay. For now. When the waitress took their order, Draco selected a bottle of Shiraz to go with their meal, and was on his third glass before he truly relaxed.
Nearing the end of the meal, and the bottle of wine, Potter broached the topic. "So why were you so ... unnerved by the ley line?"
He should have known Potter couldn't let it go for an entire night. Draco finished the last of his dinner and his wine, motioned to the waitress for another bottle, then wiped his mouth and put his napkin on his plate. "I ran across it as a boy and asked my grandfather about it; his reaction scared me. He told me never to go back and never to tell anyone. And his manner didn't invite further inquiry."
"That's odd."
He sighed. "I could ask him about it." At Potter's bewildered look, he added, "There's a portrait in his study. I'm not sure if he ever imparted the painting with his memory of that place - he may not have, if he wanted no one to know - but if he did, perhaps his portrait could explain why he felt compelled to warn me away."
Potter looked ready to continue the conversation but Draco raised his hand. "I told you earlier, that place creeped me out as a child. Today wasn't any better and I'd rather like to stop talking about it, if that's alright."
Potter's lips tightened, as though he were fighting to keep himself from talking. "Of course."
"In fact, I look forward to washing away that image of the wind swirling around you with another glass or ten of this lovely wine. Perhaps another brandy or two."
Potter laughed. "I'm fine."
"You didn't see what I did."
Potter reached across the table and put his hand over Draco's. "I'm fine."
Draco stared at their hands, wondering if Pansy might have a point. "Yes, well, don't do it again."
"But I -"
"No more talking about it. For now, we have wine, and pudding is still to come."
By the time they'd finished the wine and cake, Draco was in no shape to Apparate and Potter insisted on taking him side-along. When Draco argued, Potter simply shook his head and Apparated them to the manor gates.
***
"You could've splinched me!" Draco said as they landed awkwardly.
"Hardly." Potter continued to hold Draco's arm as he led the way to the front door. "I had a total of three glasses of wine and one beer and we'd been there for hours. I'm fine." And as Draco occasionally leaned onto the arm steadying him, he figured Potter maybe had a point.
When they walked through the door, Potter mumbled something to the house-elf before escorting Draco into the sitting room and depositing him onto the sofa, plunking himself down next to him.
"Your eyes glowed, you know." Draco reached up and touched Potter's left brow.
Potter looked amused. "Did they?"
"Scary shit, that."
Potter took Draco's hand and lowered it away from his face. "I thought you didn't want to talk about it."
"I don't. But you've always done stupid stuff like that and you need someone to tell you not to."
Potter bit his lower lip. "I do?"
Draco wanted to bite Potter's lip. Instead, he nodded and the room spun a bit. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in slowly. When he opened them again, Potter was sitting closer, his face very close, eyes studying Draco's. "You okay there?"
"M'fine." Potter's eyes were really nice up close, not glowing at all. Draco reached up and removed his glasses. Running his two thumbs over Potter's brows, he said, "They aren't glowing now."
Potter smiled. "Is that a good thing?"
Draco grasped Potter's face roughly in his hands and stared into his eyes. "Promise me you'll never do anything stupid like that again."
"I'm fine." The man was infuriating. Always being contrary. Then he reached up and tucked a stray hair behind Draco's ear and Draco stopped breathing. He wasn't even sure if what he did next was a conscious decision, but next moment his lips pressed against Potter's. They were soft and responsive, and a voice that sounded suspiciously like Pansy's cheered inside his head. Draco teased Potter's lips with his tongue to deepen the kiss and when Potter's tongue wrapped around his own, the room began to spin anew.
Far too soon, Potter drew back, preventing Draco from following him with hands on Draco's shoulders. "We shouldn't."
His words felt like a bucket of cold water. Draco pulled back. "I'm sorry. I must have misread -" Bloody Pansy.
Potter chuckled. "I'm not sure what Parkinson has to do with this." Shit. He must have said that out loud. "But you didn't misread anything. It's just ... well, you've had quite a bit to drink and I wouldn't want you to regret -"
Draco snorted. "You think this -" He motioned between them "- is the wine?"
"Maybe a bit of the brandy, too." Draco began to protest but Potter stopped him with a touch of his finger to Draco's lips. "But even if that's not the reason - and I'll admit that I hope it's not - we shouldn't. Not now."
Draco lifted his hand up to pull Potter's finger away from his mouth. Then he licked around the tip of it before drawing it into his mouth, staring at Potter, daring him to pull away. Potter let out a pained groan and Draco grinned in triumph, dragging his teeth lightly and suggestively over Potter's finger.
"Fucking hell, Malfoy." Potter pulled his finger out of Draco's mouth and watched as Draco's tongue danced over his own lips. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" Then he grasped Draco's shirt and pulled him forward, their lips colliding none too gently. Then his tongue was back where it belonged and Draco moaned happily around it. Draco wrapped his arms around Potter's back and drew him closer, not wanting to give him a chance to pull away again. If this were the only chance he ever got, he wanted to make it memorable.
After what could have been a minute or ten or a hundred - he was so lost in the feel of Potter he had no concept of time - once again Draco felt Potter pulling away, albeit more reluctantly than before. He didn't draw completely away, but cradled Draco's face in his palms, peppering his lips with gentle kisses. "I'm leaving now," he said between kisses. "Because if I don't go soon, I won't be able to pull myself away."
"Then don't."
Potter groaned once more. "Hold that thought, yeah?" He dove in for a deeper kiss once more. When they broke free again, he said with a shaky voice, "If you still want this tomorrow -"
"I will."
"Good. Then there's no problem with me leaving now. Your house-elf will leave some hangover potion in your room for the morning. I'm going home to bed."
Draco brought their lips together for a long, lingering kiss full of promise. Then, against every instinct and desire in him, he found himself bending to Potter's will. "We've waited this long. What's another day?"
***
Unfortunately, the next day came and went without either of them so much as saying a word about the kiss. Or the earth magic, for that matter. Draco wanted to, but every time he opened his mouth to say something, his nerve failed him. Sure, Potter had seemed keen enough the night before, but that might have just been the rush of the earth magic. Or the alcohol. He may not have been drunk like Draco, but he’d had a few. Also, he had been the one to stop and say they shouldn’t. Maybe now, in the light of day, he realised that Draco was still Draco and they were better off forgetting the whole thing even happened. It made Draco want to scream in frustration or, better yet, grab the man and get on with some more kissing, but he rather thought he’d made enough of an idiot of himself the night before. If Potter wanted to continue what they’d started, he would have to be the one to act.
Instead, they both remained focussed on business. It was both good and bad. Good because they got a lot done. Bad because Draco was more frustrated than ever. Now that he'd had a taste of Potter, he wanted more. So much more.
Every now and again, he’d catch Potter looking his way, but once their eyes met, Potter turned back to his work, never saying or doing anything. What kind of a Gryffindor was he anyway? As the day progressed, Draco became more convinced that Potter wanted nothing more to do with him - at least not that way. As depressing as that thought was, and as he began to regret not pushing for more the night before - he would have liked to have had at least one night with Potter - Draco decided that he’d make the best of the situation and not ruin what they had. After all, it was better than their previous animosity, and Draco didn’t fancy losing what they’d gained.
***
The next two weeks flew by, with Potter and Draco working from sunup to sundown, still never broaching the topic of their aborted encounter. In fleeting moments here and there, Draco forgot his promise to himself and decided to talk to Potter, whatever the consequences. But it seemed unusually difficult to get a word alone with the man, what with the queue of workmen hovering nearby. Apparently, no one could make a decision without first consulting Potter.
A few times Draco had managed to get him on his own, but before he could work up the nerve to bring up the kiss, more people descended. He was itching to drag Potter off somewhere and snog him senseless, but then he kept hearing Potter say, “We shouldn’t," and he thought perhaps Potter had a point.
Part of the problem - the need for so many hands on site - was the scope of the project. Draco had envisioned a gazebo-like structure, but Potter had grander ideas. Seriously grand ideas. He ended up designing and constructing what for many people would be a home in and of itself.
A scaled down version of a cloistered courtyard, the design called for five joined, covered walkways surrounding a garden or open square - whatever Draco decided upon at a later date - with what would have been the sixth cloister left open and facing the main gardens - specifically the section where Narcissa's favourite flowers and plants grew.
Several narrow rooms extended from each of the stretches of cloistered walkways. A massive greenhouse ran the length of the main walkway along the back. On either side of that in small, angled rooms were the washroom and kitchenette. Completing the structure was a tool shed - complete with work benches for potting - to the right, and what Potter envisioned as a broom/tool shed to the left, facing the clearing where Draco often flew and sometimes played Quidditch. Potter had suggested tearing down the existing broom shed and integrating it into the design, though Draco wasn't completely sold on the idea of benefitting from a gift he was giving his mother. For the time being, they would leave the existing shed where it was and present the room as one for growth.
As Potter worked with his team to erect the structure, Draco could get to work on the interior design. At Potter's suggestion, they'd decided to use local bath stone to be true to the surroundings and to provide them with some malleability insofar as shaping and designing the structure. Now that they'd made all the major decisions, Draco - admittedly reluctantly - had handed over all decision-making on the building to Potter. And now that the structure was in place, the man had the audacity to ban him from the vicinity until he was done with the details! He'd erected a cloaking spell days earlier so that every time Draco approached it, all he saw was a large concrete wall that had KEEP OUT written in large, black letters.
He'd tried threatening, ranting, pouting and sulking, to no avail, so today he opted to work from his office instead.
***
Two hours after he'd arrived, Pansy sauntered into his office and shut the door. "So how are you and Potter getting on?"
"Quite well, actually."
"So ..."
"So, nothing. Absolutely nothing."
She settled on the visitor's chair in his office. "Sounds to me like you're not best pleased by that."
He'd been so busy of late, he hadn't set foot in the office more than twice over the past two weeks, and each time Pansy had been meeting with prospective clients. He hadn't seen her since the kiss. Not sure why, he found himself telling her all about it.
"What? And you didn't tell me straight away?" She positively bounced in her seat. "But that's wonderful!"
"I was drunk. It was stupid."
"Nonsense. He was into it too, right? I mean he only pulled back because he's a stupid, idiot Gryffindor with ridiculous ideas about right and wrong and ... virtue."
Draco snorted at the notion of being considered virtuous. "He hasn't said anything since. Not a word. Hasn't even given me a look that might suggest more."
"And neither have you, right?"
He played with a fabric sample on his desk. "I suppose not."
Pansy snapped her fingers in front of his face, forcing him to look at her. "Has it occurred to you that he might think you've forgotten about it? That you only kissed him because you were drunk?"
"I told him that wasn't the only reason."
"Yes. When you were drunk." She sat back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling. "Salazar save me from idiot men."
"Hey!"
"Go home, kiss him and drag him to your bed. Now."
A certain part of his anatomy approved of that idea. He ignored it. "He's working."
She pursed her lips. "He's working for you. Tell him to take some time off. Then take him to bed." She stood up, came around the desk and pulled Draco to his feet.
Rather than fight her, he allowed himself to be manhandled and he Apparated home.
***
"Master Draco," his house-elf greeted him at the front door. "Master Harry is asking Mimsy to tell you that he is almost done and will be coming to get you soon."
"Thank you, Mimsy. Would you please bring me tea in my office until Master Harry graces me with his presence?"
She bowed, missing his sarcasm entirely. "As Master wishes."
Draco had brought some of his papers with him, so he sat down to review the latest numbers for the business while he waited. It still irked him that he was effectively banished from his own gardens.
A quarter of an hour later, a knock came at the door and he looked up.
"You wear glasses?" Potter asked. He was grinning that grin again. The one that made Draco want to cross the room and pull Potter’s mouth to his own. "They suit you."
Draco removed them. He didn't often allow people to see him wearing them, though Potter wasn't wrong. He'd spent a painstaking length of time getting just the right frames to complement his features. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he adjusted his vision once more. "Only when reading many numbers."
Potter shuddered. "Never a fun task." Draco raised a brow. He actually quite liked numbers. He found them soothing, solid, constant. "So, are you ready to see the finished product?"
Draco found himself smiling. "It's done?"
Potter nodded. "It is. It just awaits your approval and your designing expertise."
Draco got up from his desk and stopped himself from running out the door. "Let's see it then."
As they approached, the wretched concrete slab glared at him. "Seriously?"
Potter laughed. “I wanted you to see it revealed all at once rather than bit by bit as you approached."
"Are you quite finished, now?"
Potter waved a hand and the concrete visage melted away to reveal ... "It's -" Draco had no words as he tried to take it all in. He'd seen the structure before Potter put up that stupid spell. But, as beautiful and imposing as it had been, it could have been a completely different building. The posts - plain and square in the original structure - were carved out to appear like tree trunks, bursting at the tops into branches with carved bath stone leaves. The walkways were no longer covered by straight lines, but by a canopy of trees. It looked alive. "It's stunning!"
"Really? You think so?"
Draco whirled round. "Are you kidding?" he asked incredulously. "I love it. My mother will love it. I can't imagine it being more perfect. You are an absolute genius!"
Potter laughed. "I'll be replaying this memory in my Pensieve for years. Draco Malfoy calling me a genius."
Draco narrowed his eyes while steadfastly trying to stop his mouth from twitching. "I shall deny it, Pensieve or no Pensieve." He lifted his chin defiantly and turned back to take in more details.
"I can't take all the credit," Potter said. "I have to admit to being inspired by Antoni Gaudi. He was a Spanish architect that loved to weave nature into his buildings. I've been waiting for just the opportunity to do this for years."
"Now I know why you hid this. I don't think I would have wanted to see it as it was being created. This has so much more impact all at once." Still, he’d have enjoyed watching Potter create it.
Potter leaned in, so close that Draco could smell his shampoo. "So I'm forgiven?"
On impulse, Draco turned and kissed Potter soundly on the mouth. "Definitely forgiven." Then he turned back, heart racing as he realised what he'd just done. He wanted to bask in the moment, and couldn't bare to see Potter pull away. But Potter didn't pull away. In fact, he scooted up behind Draco, resting one hand on Draco's shoulder and reaching around him to point out details, all the while his breath warm and comforting and teasing on Draco's neck and the warmth of his body a pillar of strength behind Draco.
"And did you see that, above the keystone?"
Draco looked up in the direction Potter pointed. Was that -? He moved closer - reluctant to step away from Potter but eager to to get a good look - to see the details that were hard to decipher when all were of the same material. "The Black family crest?"
Potter had followed him and now stood at his side. "I thought it was a nice touch. You have all the Malfoy heritage and reference you could ever want or need in the main house. This is your mother's place. She should be able to celebrate her own family, don't you think?"
Draco grasped Potter's hand as he tried to reign in his emotions. This was more than he'd even dared to imagine. He could have decorated the place with all sorts of references to the Black family, but this ... this was a dedication of the building itself. He squeezed Potter's hand. "It's perfect."
Potter pulled on their joined hands so that Draco was facing him. His face was positively lit up with energy. "There's more. I have some things back at mine - I live at Grimmauld Place, Sirius' old house - things that you might want to pick through. I thought you might like to incorporate some of the Black heirlooms, at least see what's left that you might be able to use." His face fell a bit. "A lot got pilfered by Mundungus Fletcher when it was being used as Order Headquarters, but there's some stuff left. Kreacher managed to retrieve a few things."
Draco nodded. "It's perfect."
Potter laughed. "You said that already."
"Thank you."
Potter smiled. "My pleasure."
Draco's breath hitched as he read the sincerity in Potter's expression. Pansy was right: there was more there, and he'd been an idiot - they both had been - not to have seen it before. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and kissed Potter. It was a slow build, something that spoke of promises and things he didn't want to spend too much time thinking about right now. As Potter's arms enveloped him and he sank into the feeling of this man in his arms, he was rather glad that his mother wouldn't be home for another week.
Potter drew back and smiled. "I thought ... I'd hoped ..."
"Shut up and kiss me, Potter."
Potter hesitated, turning back to his mother's gift. "But you haven't seen everything."
Draco looked back at the building. "I know, but I've only been waiting a few weeks to see that." He smiled and brushed his shoulder against Potter’s. “I've been waiting years for this."
Potter wrapped his arm around Draco’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “Me too," he said with a smile. Then his lips were on Draco’s and all the doubts and fears fell from Draco’s mind as he poured himself into the kiss.
At length, Draco drew back. He was pleased to see Potter looked as dazed as he felt. “Let’s go upstairs."
As they made their way inside, Potter stopped by the fireplace. "One more thing I forgot to mention."
Draco huffed his annoyance. "Can it not wait?"
Potter chuckled and kissed him softly. "The manor’s Floo is connected again."
"It ... what?"
"I know a guy." Draco rolled his eyes. Of course he did. Who wouldn't be willing to do Harry Potter a favour? "He arranged it at the Ministry's end a couple of days ago and popped by here this morning while you were out to make sure it worked from here. You need only open it and it’ll work."
Draco allowed his eyes to rove over Potter's body. "You know, you've become more useful than I ever would have imagined."
Potter's serious face turned amused. "Have I now?"
Draco smiled widely. "Indeed you have." He ran his fingers through Potter's hair and drew him in for another deep kiss. "Mmm. I may have to find more for you to do so I can keep you around."
Potter smiled. "It might take a very long time to go through all the things at Grimmauld Place."
Draco let his hand run along the length of Potter's side before grasping his hand. As he led the way to his bedroom, he winked and said, "I'm counting on it."
~ FIN ~