Smile for the Camera (H/D, PG)
Title: Smile for the Camera
Author: sesheta_66
Beta: confiteor_3
Requestor: gryvon
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~3150 words
Warnings: None
Summary: A wedding brings out the best in Harry and Draco finds he rather likes it.
Disclaimer: Characters and setting all belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No infringement is intended, and no money is being earned.
A/N: The request was written for the current round of slashfest: Post war. People have moved on, leaving the past behind. Draco and Harry meet up with the camaraderie of two people who fought the same war. A big thanks to alaana_fair for the title & summary.
Harry sat in the front room of Grimmauld Place, reading the invitation that had just arrived.
Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley
cordially invite you to join them
on the occasion of their wedding
to be held August 9th at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Harry smiled as he recalled the discussion with Headmistress McGonagall. Hermione had desperately wanted her wedding at the school. It had marked the beginning of her and Ron's relationship, and had been her only home in the wizarding world.
Following school, she had returned to work there as the Muggle Studies professor, and McGonagall had been delighted to make the school available for their nuptials. Many of the staff were also delighted. Professor Sprout and Neville, who was preparing to take over for her the following school year, had offered to prepare all the floral arrangements. Hagrid, of course, would be preparing the grounds as they were going to have an outdoor ceremony, weather permitting.
Harry looked at the invitation again. To Harry Potter and Guest. Right. A guest. But whom would he bring? If it were any other event, he would either go on his own, or ask a friend to accompany him. But this was the wedding of his two best friends in the world. The only family he had ever known, the Weasleys, would all be there, as would all of his friends. With their significant others. He couldn't just bring anyone.
The media would be there. Two War Heroes to Wed had been the headline in The Prophet some months ago when they had announced their engagement. Not that media attention was a new thing to Harry, but he was growing weary of the speculation surrounding his love life, or lack thereof.
At first, he had brought someone with him to all functions - male or female - but lately he had decided that it wasn't fair to the other person to be dragged through whatever the speculation of the day was. The notable absence of dates following had started a flurry of articles about his mental stability, possible violence or even depression - all reasons for his supposed lack of ability to form and remain in a relationship.
The most recent series of articles - apparently Harry's mental health warranted an entire series of in-depth articles - had been devoted to post-traumatic stress and depression. One week the focus was on Harry's inability to hold down a job - a tell-tale sign that there are problems brewing just beneath the surface. In truth, Harry just hadn't found his calling.
Immediately following the war, he had taken a break and travelled for a year. He had the money and the freedom, and had welcomed the escape from the limelight. But after a time, travelling on his own lost its flair and he returned to England.
He had been showered with job offers the moment he got back into town, and decided to pursue his dream of becoming an Auror. Kingsley Shacklebolt had done a fair job of cleaning up the corruption at the Ministry, and had got rid of the likes of Dolores Umbridge, Cornelius Fudge, and many of the 'Old Guard,' and Harry thought that he could work for the new and improved organization. He thought wrong. The job had been tedious and bureaucratic, and the small amount of fieldwork he got paled in comparison to the mounds of paperwork he was regularly buried in. So he quit.
His next attempt at a career was playing professional Quidditch for the Chudley Cannons. Ron had been ecstatic that his best mate was playing for his favourite team. About three months into the season, Harry found that the novelty had worn off. Some of his fellow players had been on the team for many years, and viewed him as someone who had swooped in with a famous name, overshadowing the rest of them. Harry had to admit that the articles in The Prophet had been reminiscent of Rita Skeeter's article about the Triwizard Tournament. They were almost all about Harry, as though he were the whole team. Tired of defending himself constantly, he had tendered his resignation and finished out the season.
He went on to try out a few Muggle jobs, and some odd jobs in the wizarding world here and there, but nothing appealed enough for him to continue. He currently found himself gainfully unemployed and rather bored. He was considering travel again, but the wedding invitation he was looking at reminded him just how lonely it had been at the end.
Draco Malfoy was staring at his friend in disbelief. "You want me to do what?" he asked Pansy incredulously.
"I want you to accompany me to the Granger/Weasley wedding, Draco."
"But ... but ... they don't even like me! In fact, that's putting it pretty mildly where the Weasel is concerned. And how come you're invited anyway?"
"Oh, come on now. It's not that bad. The war has been over for years, and we've all grown up. I work with Granger, as you well know, and she invited me. I need a date for the wedding, and I wish for you to take me."
"What about Blaise? Surely you two haven't split up since last we spoke."
"No, we have not. But he has to be away on business that day, and I will not be attending such an important function unaccompanied."
"But -- "
"But nothing, Draco. You are my best friend, and you are the best looking man I know."
Draco's expression softened. "Well, you do have a point there."
"And you're gay, which means Blaise won't have a fit."
"Point."
"Besides, you really need to get on with your life. You spend entirely too much time alone. Who knows? There might be some unattached man just waiting for you to sweep him off his feet."
"Or the other way round."
"Right. Whatever. So what time will you be picking me up?"
Harry was sitting in the local pub having a drink and reading the paper, having grown tired of looking at the walls at home and opting for a change of scenery. In the distance, he heard a loud voice, issuing what sounded like a challenge. Unfortunately, he couldn't make out the words, but the tone of voice was clear.
Another voice joined in, and this time Harry distinctly heard the phrase, "Bloody Death Eater." His Auror reflexes were instinctively on high alert, and he jumped up, wand in hand, to see what the commotion was about.
To his surprise, he found three rather formidable wizards converging on one wizard who was seated at a table, saying nothing in response. One very blonde and very pale wizard.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked.
The blonde looked up and, if possible, paled even more at the sight of Harry. "Oh, great. Potter. Just what I need. What, are you heading up this welcoming committee?"
"Er ...”
"Yeah, you're in for it now, Malfoy. Scum-sucking Death Eater."
Harry wasn't sure why he did what he did, but a moment after those words had come out of the other wizard's mouth, he was lying on the floor, out cold, and Harry was nursing a rather sore fist. "Did you have something to add?" he asked the other two wizards.
"Uh ... no sir," the youngest one stammered. The other just looked at him blankly.
"Good," Harry said, shooting a glance over at Malfoy. "Because this man is not now, nor has he ever been, a Death Eater."
"Well, his father --"
"-- is not him. No doubt anyone would grow weary of paying the dues of his father for as long as Mr Malfoy here has. I think his account is paid in full. Now" - Harry gave a disgusted look at the pile on the floor and nudged him with his foot for good measure - "pick up this piece of shit and get out of here!"
The men wasted no time doing exactly what they were told. Harry knew he could look quite menacing when he chose to, and he was doing his best to scare the crap out of these two losers. "And don't bother coming back!" he called to the retreating figures.
"There's really no need to stare," Harry growled at the gathered crowd, and they quickly disbursed.
"Do you always do that?" asked Malfoy.
"Do what?"
"Rescue people," Draco explained, "even when they don't ask for it."
"Well ... er ...” Harry wasn't sure what to say in response. He had thought it was a good idea. Actually, he hadn't even really thought about it.
"I would have been fine, you know," Malfoy continued.
"Fine," Harry said, a bit irritated. "Next time I'll let them beat the shit out of you while I watch. I'll bring popcorn so I can really enjoy the show." He turned to leave.
"Potter, wait!" Draco said. Harry turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Thank you," he said quietly.
Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You're welcome," he said genuinely. "And no, I don't."
"Don't what?"
"Rescue people. At least, not anymore."
"Apparently you do."
"No, I don't. I heard the words 'Death Eater' and instinctively came over."
"Ah, so you were going to arrest me?" Harry nodded in response. "I thought you weren't an Auror anymore."
"I'm not, but some things aren't so easy to give up."
Draco smiled. "Like rescuing people."
"Well, I suppose so," Harry grinned. "It's just that ... well, the war is over, and I'm so sick and tired of people dwelling on the past. You did what you felt you had to do, and ... well, now it's over. Your dad is paying for his crimes. I should think you've ... we've all suffered enough.
"Why don't you join me, Potter?" Malfoy asked, quite unexpectedly.
Harry hesitated, giving Malfoy a confused look. "Er ...” Malfoy's face fell. "Sure. Why not?" Harry said, and he couldn't help noticing just how pleased Malfoy looked at this turn of events.
"Barkeep! A drink for my friend, here!" Harry said, throwing his arm around Malfoy's shoulders, and pulling him into a sort of drunken half-hug. He was at Ron and Hermione's wedding, and was doing his very best to get as drunk as possible, all the better to tolerate the sight of all the happy couples surrounding him. He had, in the end, opted to come alone.
"Friend? Did you just call me your friend?" Draco asked.
"Why yes I did, Draco!" Harry hadn't seen him since the night in the pub a couple months earlier, and was inexplicably pleased to see him again.
"Draco? Did you just call me --" Draco began. "You're drunk!" he announced.
"Why yes, I do believe you're right," Harry replied, suddenly frowning. "At least I'm on my way, and you my friend have some catching up to do!"
Draco mumbled something under his breath, Harry felt a wave of something wash over him, and at once he was sober.
"What'd you go and do something like that for?" Harry grumbled.
"That's what friends are for," came Draco's reply. "To prevent their friends from making complete arses of themselves at inappropriate times."
"No they’re not!" Harry argued. "Friends laugh at their friends, rehash it to embarrass them and get some good laughs out of it at their expense - at every opportunity!"
Draco had to laugh at that. "You have a valid point there, Potter."
"Potter? C'mon now, Draco. You can call me Harry, don't you think? You don't call your other friends by their last names, do you?"
"So you really consider me a friend?"
"Sure, why not? We've been through a lot together, haven't we? War does things to people, Draco. Makes you really stop and think about what's important." He looked earnestly into Draco's eyes. "No one knows that better than we do, right? I figure," he went on, "that we both lost enough friends in the war. A war which is long past. I'd rather leave the past where it belongs."
Draco was gaping at Harry now, clearly not sure what to make of what he said. "But I ... we were on opposing sides."
"Were we?" Harry asked. In response to Draco's stunned expression, he went on. "We were both doing what we believed to be right. I was fighting for a cause, and you were fighting to protect your parents."
"Now, Potter, I --"
"Don't try to say you were fighting for Voldemort, because I know differently. I was on the Astronomy Tower when you lowered your wand. I heard what you said to Dumbledore. You were never a killer, Draco. You may have believed in pureblood superiority - hell, you may still now - but that's not the same thing. Ideals are one thing. Eradicating those that hold different opinions than you - and countless others who get in your way, including some of your very closest supporters - is something else entirely. That was never you, Draco."
"But ... but we were enemies."
"I, for one, don't wish to hold onto enemies. I'd rather make new friends." He smiled at the shocked look on the blonde's face. "Besides, 'enemy' is such a harsh word. We were more like rivals. Voldemort was the ultimate enemy to us all, don't you think?"
"Perhaps."
"He was," Harry said assuredly. "He threatened your life and your family's lives, and that, to me, is an enemy."
"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought," Draco said.
"Yeah, well ... after we met again a few months ago, I started thinking about you ... about us. About all the events of our lives that led us to where we are today. We share a past that goes far beyond that of the war."
"You saved my life," Draco blurted out. "I never really thanked you for that. Twice you saved me, even though I was trying to kill you."
Harry laughed. "You were never trying to kill me. In fact, as I recall, you stopped Crabbe from doing just that."
"I was taking you to the Dark Lord."
"No, you weren't."
"Um ... Harry ... I was there, and I assure you I was."
"Oh, I know that's what you were planning, but really what you were doing was saving your parents, wasn't it?"
"Well ...”
"Who knows what any of us would have done in your place? You had the opportunity to give me up right away at the Manor. You can't say you didn't know it was me. Besides, I saw Voldemort. I got inside his head more times than I care to admit, and I saw what he was really like, and what he had reduced you and your family to. I certainly won't pass judgement on the actions of a man faced with Voldemort's constant presence and threat to his family. I told you I didn't consider you my enemy."
"But --"
"Draco, I'm done with the war. We're at a wedding. We should be celebrating. And now that you've cast a Sobriety Charm on me, I have a lot of catching up to do." He glared at Draco, but without malice.
"Well, you caught me off guard, calling me your friend."
"I'd like to think that you are."
"Really, Harry?" Draco asked hopefully.
Momentarily stunned by the question, and the tone it conveyed, Harry looked into the other man's eyes. He couldn't quite place it, but whatever that look was made him seem vulnerable, open. Harry had never seen him that way before. He had always been on guard, with a defensive mask in place, even when he was with his own friends. He wondered if Draco ever let his guard down, even now. He found himself overwhelmed with a need to protect this man from harm, from whatever forces made him afraid to be ... well, to let anyone in.
"Really, Draco," he replied, holding his hand out in a familiar gesture.
Draco took Harry's hand, and his face beamed. "Friends," he said.
Not sure what compelled him to do it, except perhaps the sensation that flowed through his body as their hands connected, or the look of joy on Draco's face, Harry pulled the other man closer to him. "Perhaps," he whispered, brushing their lips together softly, "a little more."
Draco wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling their bodies closer still. "Perhaps," he growled, teasing Harry's lips apart with his tongue.
Harry's lips parted, granting Draco's tongue access. Oh, God, it felt wonderful! Their tongues explored tentatively at first, then with less inhibition. Harry was at once exhilarated by the sensations coursing through his body, and weakened by the intensity of it all, melting in the other man's embrace. He hadn't felt this alive in a long time, and he took his time to savour the moment.
When at last they broke apart, it was Draco who spoke first. "Well, that was ..."
"Unexpected?"
"Brilliant!"
"Yeah, it was," Harry said, grinning. "Imagine how much more fun school would have been --"
His thoughts were interrupted by the flash of a camera, then another, as their current location came pouring back to Harry in one blinding moment. Oh, shit! he thought as photographers kept flashing pictures.
As both men turned around, they realized that most of the assembled guests, as well as the media, were staring at them. "Think Granger and Weasley would mind if we left now?" Draco asked.
"Not at all," Harry answered.
"Good. Let's go, then," he told Harry.
“What about Pansy?” Harry asked.
“She’ll forgive me,” he said as he winked at his friend in the crowd, and grabbed onto Harry’s arm.
A moment later, they were in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place.
"I'm sorry about that, Draco," Harry said as he began pacing around the room. "They never leave me alone. I'm usually more careful ... I wasn't thinking."
Draco grasped his wrist to stop his pacing. "Relax, Harry. It's alright. I don't mind."
"Right. You have no idea what you're facing," Harry said, arms flailing in agitation. "They're relentless. They'll dig into your past --"
"Harry, stop it! I may not have had all the publicity you've had in the past, but my family hasn't been immune to it. I know how cruel they can be. In fact, I'm ashamed to admit that I contributed to some of it when we were younger. But I can handle it. Really, I can."
"I don't think you know what you're in for."
"Perhaps not, but as long as I have you with me, I don't care."
"Really?"
"Really," Draco said as he stood up and pulled Harry closer to him. As they kissed again, right there in Harry's house, he realized that it finally felt like home. He had found what he had been missing all along, and he wasn't about to let him go anytime soon.
~ FIN
Author: sesheta_66
Beta: confiteor_3
Requestor: gryvon
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~3150 words
Warnings: None
Summary: A wedding brings out the best in Harry and Draco finds he rather likes it.
Disclaimer: Characters and setting all belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No infringement is intended, and no money is being earned.
A/N: The request was written for the current round of slashfest: Post war. People have moved on, leaving the past behind. Draco and Harry meet up with the camaraderie of two people who fought the same war. A big thanks to alaana_fair for the title & summary.
Harry sat in the front room of Grimmauld Place, reading the invitation that had just arrived.
Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley
cordially invite you to join them
on the occasion of their wedding
to be held August 9th at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Harry smiled as he recalled the discussion with Headmistress McGonagall. Hermione had desperately wanted her wedding at the school. It had marked the beginning of her and Ron's relationship, and had been her only home in the wizarding world.
Following school, she had returned to work there as the Muggle Studies professor, and McGonagall had been delighted to make the school available for their nuptials. Many of the staff were also delighted. Professor Sprout and Neville, who was preparing to take over for her the following school year, had offered to prepare all the floral arrangements. Hagrid, of course, would be preparing the grounds as they were going to have an outdoor ceremony, weather permitting.
Harry looked at the invitation again. To Harry Potter and Guest. Right. A guest. But whom would he bring? If it were any other event, he would either go on his own, or ask a friend to accompany him. But this was the wedding of his two best friends in the world. The only family he had ever known, the Weasleys, would all be there, as would all of his friends. With their significant others. He couldn't just bring anyone.
The media would be there. Two War Heroes to Wed had been the headline in The Prophet some months ago when they had announced their engagement. Not that media attention was a new thing to Harry, but he was growing weary of the speculation surrounding his love life, or lack thereof.
At first, he had brought someone with him to all functions - male or female - but lately he had decided that it wasn't fair to the other person to be dragged through whatever the speculation of the day was. The notable absence of dates following had started a flurry of articles about his mental stability, possible violence or even depression - all reasons for his supposed lack of ability to form and remain in a relationship.
The most recent series of articles - apparently Harry's mental health warranted an entire series of in-depth articles - had been devoted to post-traumatic stress and depression. One week the focus was on Harry's inability to hold down a job - a tell-tale sign that there are problems brewing just beneath the surface. In truth, Harry just hadn't found his calling.
Immediately following the war, he had taken a break and travelled for a year. He had the money and the freedom, and had welcomed the escape from the limelight. But after a time, travelling on his own lost its flair and he returned to England.
He had been showered with job offers the moment he got back into town, and decided to pursue his dream of becoming an Auror. Kingsley Shacklebolt had done a fair job of cleaning up the corruption at the Ministry, and had got rid of the likes of Dolores Umbridge, Cornelius Fudge, and many of the 'Old Guard,' and Harry thought that he could work for the new and improved organization. He thought wrong. The job had been tedious and bureaucratic, and the small amount of fieldwork he got paled in comparison to the mounds of paperwork he was regularly buried in. So he quit.
His next attempt at a career was playing professional Quidditch for the Chudley Cannons. Ron had been ecstatic that his best mate was playing for his favourite team. About three months into the season, Harry found that the novelty had worn off. Some of his fellow players had been on the team for many years, and viewed him as someone who had swooped in with a famous name, overshadowing the rest of them. Harry had to admit that the articles in The Prophet had been reminiscent of Rita Skeeter's article about the Triwizard Tournament. They were almost all about Harry, as though he were the whole team. Tired of defending himself constantly, he had tendered his resignation and finished out the season.
He went on to try out a few Muggle jobs, and some odd jobs in the wizarding world here and there, but nothing appealed enough for him to continue. He currently found himself gainfully unemployed and rather bored. He was considering travel again, but the wedding invitation he was looking at reminded him just how lonely it had been at the end.
Draco Malfoy was staring at his friend in disbelief. "You want me to do what?" he asked Pansy incredulously.
"I want you to accompany me to the Granger/Weasley wedding, Draco."
"But ... but ... they don't even like me! In fact, that's putting it pretty mildly where the Weasel is concerned. And how come you're invited anyway?"
"Oh, come on now. It's not that bad. The war has been over for years, and we've all grown up. I work with Granger, as you well know, and she invited me. I need a date for the wedding, and I wish for you to take me."
"What about Blaise? Surely you two haven't split up since last we spoke."
"No, we have not. But he has to be away on business that day, and I will not be attending such an important function unaccompanied."
"But -- "
"But nothing, Draco. You are my best friend, and you are the best looking man I know."
Draco's expression softened. "Well, you do have a point there."
"And you're gay, which means Blaise won't have a fit."
"Point."
"Besides, you really need to get on with your life. You spend entirely too much time alone. Who knows? There might be some unattached man just waiting for you to sweep him off his feet."
"Or the other way round."
"Right. Whatever. So what time will you be picking me up?"
Harry was sitting in the local pub having a drink and reading the paper, having grown tired of looking at the walls at home and opting for a change of scenery. In the distance, he heard a loud voice, issuing what sounded like a challenge. Unfortunately, he couldn't make out the words, but the tone of voice was clear.
Another voice joined in, and this time Harry distinctly heard the phrase, "Bloody Death Eater." His Auror reflexes were instinctively on high alert, and he jumped up, wand in hand, to see what the commotion was about.
To his surprise, he found three rather formidable wizards converging on one wizard who was seated at a table, saying nothing in response. One very blonde and very pale wizard.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked.
The blonde looked up and, if possible, paled even more at the sight of Harry. "Oh, great. Potter. Just what I need. What, are you heading up this welcoming committee?"
"Er ...”
"Yeah, you're in for it now, Malfoy. Scum-sucking Death Eater."
Harry wasn't sure why he did what he did, but a moment after those words had come out of the other wizard's mouth, he was lying on the floor, out cold, and Harry was nursing a rather sore fist. "Did you have something to add?" he asked the other two wizards.
"Uh ... no sir," the youngest one stammered. The other just looked at him blankly.
"Good," Harry said, shooting a glance over at Malfoy. "Because this man is not now, nor has he ever been, a Death Eater."
"Well, his father --"
"-- is not him. No doubt anyone would grow weary of paying the dues of his father for as long as Mr Malfoy here has. I think his account is paid in full. Now" - Harry gave a disgusted look at the pile on the floor and nudged him with his foot for good measure - "pick up this piece of shit and get out of here!"
The men wasted no time doing exactly what they were told. Harry knew he could look quite menacing when he chose to, and he was doing his best to scare the crap out of these two losers. "And don't bother coming back!" he called to the retreating figures.
"There's really no need to stare," Harry growled at the gathered crowd, and they quickly disbursed.
"Do you always do that?" asked Malfoy.
"Do what?"
"Rescue people," Draco explained, "even when they don't ask for it."
"Well ... er ...” Harry wasn't sure what to say in response. He had thought it was a good idea. Actually, he hadn't even really thought about it.
"I would have been fine, you know," Malfoy continued.
"Fine," Harry said, a bit irritated. "Next time I'll let them beat the shit out of you while I watch. I'll bring popcorn so I can really enjoy the show." He turned to leave.
"Potter, wait!" Draco said. Harry turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Thank you," he said quietly.
Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You're welcome," he said genuinely. "And no, I don't."
"Don't what?"
"Rescue people. At least, not anymore."
"Apparently you do."
"No, I don't. I heard the words 'Death Eater' and instinctively came over."
"Ah, so you were going to arrest me?" Harry nodded in response. "I thought you weren't an Auror anymore."
"I'm not, but some things aren't so easy to give up."
Draco smiled. "Like rescuing people."
"Well, I suppose so," Harry grinned. "It's just that ... well, the war is over, and I'm so sick and tired of people dwelling on the past. You did what you felt you had to do, and ... well, now it's over. Your dad is paying for his crimes. I should think you've ... we've all suffered enough.
"Why don't you join me, Potter?" Malfoy asked, quite unexpectedly.
Harry hesitated, giving Malfoy a confused look. "Er ...” Malfoy's face fell. "Sure. Why not?" Harry said, and he couldn't help noticing just how pleased Malfoy looked at this turn of events.
"Barkeep! A drink for my friend, here!" Harry said, throwing his arm around Malfoy's shoulders, and pulling him into a sort of drunken half-hug. He was at Ron and Hermione's wedding, and was doing his very best to get as drunk as possible, all the better to tolerate the sight of all the happy couples surrounding him. He had, in the end, opted to come alone.
"Friend? Did you just call me your friend?" Draco asked.
"Why yes I did, Draco!" Harry hadn't seen him since the night in the pub a couple months earlier, and was inexplicably pleased to see him again.
"Draco? Did you just call me --" Draco began. "You're drunk!" he announced.
"Why yes, I do believe you're right," Harry replied, suddenly frowning. "At least I'm on my way, and you my friend have some catching up to do!"
Draco mumbled something under his breath, Harry felt a wave of something wash over him, and at once he was sober.
"What'd you go and do something like that for?" Harry grumbled.
"That's what friends are for," came Draco's reply. "To prevent their friends from making complete arses of themselves at inappropriate times."
"No they’re not!" Harry argued. "Friends laugh at their friends, rehash it to embarrass them and get some good laughs out of it at their expense - at every opportunity!"
Draco had to laugh at that. "You have a valid point there, Potter."
"Potter? C'mon now, Draco. You can call me Harry, don't you think? You don't call your other friends by their last names, do you?"
"So you really consider me a friend?"
"Sure, why not? We've been through a lot together, haven't we? War does things to people, Draco. Makes you really stop and think about what's important." He looked earnestly into Draco's eyes. "No one knows that better than we do, right? I figure," he went on, "that we both lost enough friends in the war. A war which is long past. I'd rather leave the past where it belongs."
Draco was gaping at Harry now, clearly not sure what to make of what he said. "But I ... we were on opposing sides."
"Were we?" Harry asked. In response to Draco's stunned expression, he went on. "We were both doing what we believed to be right. I was fighting for a cause, and you were fighting to protect your parents."
"Now, Potter, I --"
"Don't try to say you were fighting for Voldemort, because I know differently. I was on the Astronomy Tower when you lowered your wand. I heard what you said to Dumbledore. You were never a killer, Draco. You may have believed in pureblood superiority - hell, you may still now - but that's not the same thing. Ideals are one thing. Eradicating those that hold different opinions than you - and countless others who get in your way, including some of your very closest supporters - is something else entirely. That was never you, Draco."
"But ... but we were enemies."
"I, for one, don't wish to hold onto enemies. I'd rather make new friends." He smiled at the shocked look on the blonde's face. "Besides, 'enemy' is such a harsh word. We were more like rivals. Voldemort was the ultimate enemy to us all, don't you think?"
"Perhaps."
"He was," Harry said assuredly. "He threatened your life and your family's lives, and that, to me, is an enemy."
"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought," Draco said.
"Yeah, well ... after we met again a few months ago, I started thinking about you ... about us. About all the events of our lives that led us to where we are today. We share a past that goes far beyond that of the war."
"You saved my life," Draco blurted out. "I never really thanked you for that. Twice you saved me, even though I was trying to kill you."
Harry laughed. "You were never trying to kill me. In fact, as I recall, you stopped Crabbe from doing just that."
"I was taking you to the Dark Lord."
"No, you weren't."
"Um ... Harry ... I was there, and I assure you I was."
"Oh, I know that's what you were planning, but really what you were doing was saving your parents, wasn't it?"
"Well ...”
"Who knows what any of us would have done in your place? You had the opportunity to give me up right away at the Manor. You can't say you didn't know it was me. Besides, I saw Voldemort. I got inside his head more times than I care to admit, and I saw what he was really like, and what he had reduced you and your family to. I certainly won't pass judgement on the actions of a man faced with Voldemort's constant presence and threat to his family. I told you I didn't consider you my enemy."
"But --"
"Draco, I'm done with the war. We're at a wedding. We should be celebrating. And now that you've cast a Sobriety Charm on me, I have a lot of catching up to do." He glared at Draco, but without malice.
"Well, you caught me off guard, calling me your friend."
"I'd like to think that you are."
"Really, Harry?" Draco asked hopefully.
Momentarily stunned by the question, and the tone it conveyed, Harry looked into the other man's eyes. He couldn't quite place it, but whatever that look was made him seem vulnerable, open. Harry had never seen him that way before. He had always been on guard, with a defensive mask in place, even when he was with his own friends. He wondered if Draco ever let his guard down, even now. He found himself overwhelmed with a need to protect this man from harm, from whatever forces made him afraid to be ... well, to let anyone in.
"Really, Draco," he replied, holding his hand out in a familiar gesture.
Draco took Harry's hand, and his face beamed. "Friends," he said.
Not sure what compelled him to do it, except perhaps the sensation that flowed through his body as their hands connected, or the look of joy on Draco's face, Harry pulled the other man closer to him. "Perhaps," he whispered, brushing their lips together softly, "a little more."
Draco wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling their bodies closer still. "Perhaps," he growled, teasing Harry's lips apart with his tongue.
Harry's lips parted, granting Draco's tongue access. Oh, God, it felt wonderful! Their tongues explored tentatively at first, then with less inhibition. Harry was at once exhilarated by the sensations coursing through his body, and weakened by the intensity of it all, melting in the other man's embrace. He hadn't felt this alive in a long time, and he took his time to savour the moment.
When at last they broke apart, it was Draco who spoke first. "Well, that was ..."
"Unexpected?"
"Brilliant!"
"Yeah, it was," Harry said, grinning. "Imagine how much more fun school would have been --"
His thoughts were interrupted by the flash of a camera, then another, as their current location came pouring back to Harry in one blinding moment. Oh, shit! he thought as photographers kept flashing pictures.
As both men turned around, they realized that most of the assembled guests, as well as the media, were staring at them. "Think Granger and Weasley would mind if we left now?" Draco asked.
"Not at all," Harry answered.
"Good. Let's go, then," he told Harry.
“What about Pansy?” Harry asked.
“She’ll forgive me,” he said as he winked at his friend in the crowd, and grabbed onto Harry’s arm.
A moment later, they were in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place.
"I'm sorry about that, Draco," Harry said as he began pacing around the room. "They never leave me alone. I'm usually more careful ... I wasn't thinking."
Draco grasped his wrist to stop his pacing. "Relax, Harry. It's alright. I don't mind."
"Right. You have no idea what you're facing," Harry said, arms flailing in agitation. "They're relentless. They'll dig into your past --"
"Harry, stop it! I may not have had all the publicity you've had in the past, but my family hasn't been immune to it. I know how cruel they can be. In fact, I'm ashamed to admit that I contributed to some of it when we were younger. But I can handle it. Really, I can."
"I don't think you know what you're in for."
"Perhaps not, but as long as I have you with me, I don't care."
"Really?"
"Really," Draco said as he stood up and pulled Harry closer to him. As they kissed again, right there in Harry's house, he realized that it finally felt like home. He had found what he had been missing all along, and he wasn't about to let him go anytime soon.
~ FIN