New ficlet...
Title: Nudged in the Right Direction.
Author:
aquila_star
Rating: PG 13
Summary: Harry takes one bold leap...after being pushed to the edge of the cliff
Word Count: 2230
Prompt:
slythindor100 's DEF, Monday edition...I was tagged by
kcstories with the prompt "You sit there in your heartache, waiting on some beautiful boy to save you from your old ways." I am tagging
pepper202 with the prompt "It's hard to believe that God made you and me with the same hands." from Believer by Chantal Kreviazuk. http://www.lyrics.com/url.php?link=http://www.geocities.com/chantal_net/believer.html *grins* Enjoy.
Fairy lights twinkled over the cheerful din of many young wizards and witches gathered in the Longbottom's spacious garden for yet another celebration of life. The crowd was upbeat and dynamic, a cross section of the Wizarding world's recent Hogwarts graduates as well as twenty something up and comers. The feté was in celebration of life in a giddy post war society, and the people attending were determined to celebrate.
Muggle music played magically from an unseen source, bass pumping heavily on the cobblestone terrace that had become a dance floor, the volume much quieter inside the house as well as on the surrounding terrace. The area around the makeshift dance floor was littered with tables and chairs where guests conversed noisily, their laughter rising in waves only to fall again.
But despite the jocularity and air of joy that infused the party, one man sat alone on the edge of the dance floor, tucked into a fairly secluded spot where he could watch the festivities and not be approached. Much.
~~~*~~~
“You sit there in your heartache, waiting on some beautiful boy to save you from your old ways.”
Harry was shocked out of his trance by a soft voice speaking in his ear. He turned to find Ginny in the seat beside him, looking much bemused.
He smiled wanly at her. “What was that?”
“Oh, just something I heard recently.” she replied, smiling back. “I thought it was rather appropriate, given the circumstances.”
“Oh?” Harry turned his gaze back across the dance floor, finding what he was looking for quickly. His attention was diverted from Ginny and she knew it
“Hmm,” Ginny's gaze followed his and they settled into a comfortable silence.
After the war, Harry had fully expected to pick up where he left off with her, but they both found that too many things had changed. Rather, two things in particular had changed. The first thing was Neville Longbottom and the other, Harry. Ginny found that she quite fancied the new war hardened Neville, and Harry found himself agreeing with her. Neville had changed quite a bit, maturing into his lanky frame and awkward features at last. Harry had to admit that he was quite fit these days, and clearly in his element as he mingled with his guests. A shadow of a beard graced his angular face and when combined with the soft leather of his jacket and crisp fit of his denims (Muggle clothing and music being all the rage at the moment) gave him a rugged appearance that none of the witches in attendance could ignore.
Harry sighed. It was a fact, Neville Longbottom had become quite fanciable. And that was the other thing that had changed. Harry had come to realize that he fancied blokes quite as much as he did girls, if not more. 'Strange,' he thought, 'that Neville would become the focal point of all this change.'
Harry's revelation was not at all common knowledge, however. The news that Harry Potter was, for all intents and purposes, gay would likely not go over well in magical society. Harry sighed again, feeling quite maudlin and not just a small bit depressed.
He turned to Ginny who was watching her fiance with an adoring smile. “Neville seems to be in his element tonight.” He commented, pleased that his friend had grown into himself at last. And pleased that he and Ginny were so happy with each other.
“Quite.” Ginny agreed. “He's changed so much I can barely recognize him as the boy who stuttered his way through asking me to the Yule Ball in my third year. Apparently he's fancied me for quite awhile.”
Harry nodded his agreement, glancing at Neville again, but his gaze was inevitably drawn back to it's original focus. Ginny smiled at him, quirking a brow at his obvious focus.
“So when are you going to ask him out?” she asked Harry, nodding toward the spot on the dance floor he could not seem to keep his eyes away from.
“It'll never happen.” Harry said with a sigh. “You know that as well as I do. Besides, he's probably not even gay.”
“Oh, Harry, you can certainly be oblivious when you set your mind to it.” Ginny said with a long suffering sigh.
“What does that mean?” Harry asked. He was tired of being condescended to, especially by the people close to him, but it seemed that Ginny and Hermione had it down to an art. 'It's a good thing I'm gay,' Harry thought. 'Ginny acts much more like a mother hen than a girlfriend.'
“It means, you silly boy, that it's obvious to pretty much everyone that he swings both ways.” Harry stared at her with a perplexed expression. “Not only that, but it's also clear he's had a thing for you for as long as you've known each other. If you don't believe me, ask Hermione.”
Harry winced. “I'd rather not, thanks.” Hermione had plenty to say on the subject of Harry's supposedly unrequited crush, and he was not up for hearing it all again. Besides, he knew very well that Hermione agreed with Ginny about said man's preferences. He sighed again, his gaze sweeping over the dance floor for the man in question but finding him by the bar instead. Truthfully, he thought the girls just might be right, but the idea of putting himself out there terrified him. So much for Gryffindor courage. Sure, he risked his life repeatedly with no compunction, but the prospect of risking his feelings made him cower.
“Harry, just promise me you'll ask him to dance.” Harry looked horrified at the very idea, and Ginny laughed. “Okay, no dancing. Ask him for dinner then, please?”
Harry rolled his eyes, but he knew he'd get no peace if he didn't agree. Besides, even he had to admit this was the perfect occasion to offer such an invitation. The thought of sending an owl or going to his house...no, in person, as humiliating as it may possibly be, was far preferable.
“Okay.” He agreed.
Ginny's eyes bugged out of her head, and her chin dropped in shock. Clearly she was not expecting him to agree so easily. He couldn't help but grin at her expression. Giving in suddenly certainly had it's advantages.
“You...okay? You will?” she asked, incredulous.
“I...yes.”
“Why now?”
“Well, it's the perfect time, really.” Harry replied. He tracked his quarry's movement across the terrace to the shadows opposite where Harry and Ginny sat. “He's here, I'm here and if I don't do it soon, you and Hermione will probably dose me with Veritaserum and send me off to his house or something equally devious and humiliating.
Ginny smiled and winked at him. “Or something.” She said.
Harry shook his head and picked up his drink, downing it in one gulp. “Okay,” He stood and straightened his shirt. “How do I look?”
Ginny took in his black t-shirt over faded jeans that were worn, but at least they fitted him well. They hung low on his hips and complimented his arse very nicely. She could see a flash of flatly muscled belly when he lifted his hands and ran them through his messy black hair. She nodded. Sure, he might not be dressed to kill as she knew his crush was, but on Harry, this look was as charming as it was attractive. He was certainly the type to pull it off, and she knew the simplicity and flashes of skin would please his quarry.
“You look great. I'm glad you wore the contacts tonight.” She told him, and he grinned.
“Thanks. I'm glad I got them.” He glanced toward the other side of the dance floor, just barely able to make out the other man in the shadows. He hesitated, but Ginny stood up and encouraged him by pushing him.
“If you feel the need for more liquid courage, stop off at the bar and get a drink, but don't let me catch you stalling there.” She said, waving as Neville caught sight of her and moved in her direction.
“I won't. Thanks Ginny.” He said, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.
“Hey Harry,” Neville said with a grin as Harry passed him. He was unconcerned that Harry had kissed his fiance. He was well aware of Harry's brotherly feelings for Ginny, as well as the fact that her feelings toward him matched them.
“Neville.” Harry returned the greeting. “Great party.”
“Thanks Harry.” Neville said. Harry barely heard him as his target came into view through a gap in the dancers. He swallowed but didn't falter, and decided to opt out of another drink. More alcohol might give him courage, true, but it would also loosen his tongue enough that he would say something stupid and ruin the slim chance he believed he had for a favorable outcome.
A few more steps and he was there. “Mind if I sit here?” He asked. He was determined not to make a fool of himself, not to stutter, not to take no for an answer.
“Whatever you'd like, Potter.” Malfoy, no, Draco looked at him, bemused. Harry was certain he had no idea what to make of Harry Potter asking to sit by him, after not even speaking to him in, oh...11 months. Not since he'd returned Draco's wand. But, since that day, Harry hadn't been able to get Draco out of his mind. And now, finally, he was going to do something about it.
“Thanks.” He said simply, and sat. He studied Draco for a few minutes, trying to really notice him, and not just see what he thought was there. He was gorgeous, but Harry knew that. He was also casting what Harry supposed he thought were surreptitious glances at Harry, and looking more discomfited by the second. So Harry waited.
Finally, Draco broke.
“Are you going to say something, or are you just going to stare at me all night, Potter?” He snapped, fingers twitching restlessly.
And it hit Harry. Hermione was right. Ginny was right. He did have a chance with Draco Malfoy. 'Well. Will wonders never cease.' Harry thought to himself, and grinned. He quashed the surge of fear and doubt that rushed over him and took the plunge.
“No, I'm going to say something.” He replied. “Not that I would be opposed to staring at you all night. You're rather an attractive bloke, Draco.” He said matter of factly, noticing Draco's start when he used his given name.
“Oh, really,” Draco said, looking nervous, as if Harry would disappear or laugh at him at any second.
“Yes. But the reason I came over here was to ask you to dinner.” Harry said, quelling the tremor in his hands by clamping them onto his legs.
“Dinner?” Draco was astounded for a moment before sliding into suspicion. “Why?”
“Because I'd like to get to know you better.” Harry said simply. Then, reaching deeper in to his ever growing well of Gryffindor courage, he stepped out on another limb. “Also, I'd like to shag you silly. What do you say?”
“You...but...” Draco was at a loss, turning to look out over the dance floor again, collecting himself.
Harry didn't take his gaze off Draco's face, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited, fate unknown.
“Yes.” Draco said, still looking away.
“Yes?”
“Yes. You can take me to dinner.” Now Draco was looking down at the table, his hands clenched. His lips were quirked in what seemed to be a smirk.
Harry leaned in closer, buoyed by Draco's acceptance. “And the other?” he whispered, voice low and full of promise.
Draco looked into his eyes. The heat and need in them was shocking, and Harry felt it like a punch of arousal in his gut.
“Yes.” Draco whispered back.
“Excellent.” Harry said, standing before he lost his nerve. “Now?” He reached a hand out to Draco, suddenly nervous again as the other man took his time responding.
“Yes.” Draco repeated, taking his hand and letting Harry pull him to his feet. They grinned at each other for a moment, and Harry felt all the nerves and doubt slip away. He pulled Draco in the direction of the house, to collect his jacket before he disapparated them to his flat.
They passed Hermione and Ginny on the way out, clearly his meddling friends had been watching the scene unfold. He held up a hand as Hermione opened her mouth, cutting her off. “Don't say it.” He said, but he winked so they would know he was okay.
But, in his haste to get to his jacket and then his flat, he missed Draco beaming at his friends, as well as Ginny giving the blonde an enthusiastic thumbs up.
~~*~~
Several hours later he collapsed onto his bed beside Draco, one leg thrown over Draco's own sticky limbs, panting, exhausted and happier than he'd ever been in his life.
“Merlin's frilly pants, Potter.” Draco panted from half under him. “Took you long enough. I should have gone to Granger years ago and saved us a lot of wasted time.”
Harry looked up. “Wha...” was all he managed before Draco pulled him down into a fierce snog, all thoughts of Hermione were pushed out of his mind once more.
Author:
aquila_star
Rating: PG 13
Summary: Harry takes one bold leap...after being pushed to the edge of the cliff
Word Count: 2230
Prompt:
slythindor100 's DEF, Monday edition...I was tagged by
kcstories with the prompt "You sit there in your heartache, waiting on some beautiful boy to save you from your old ways." I am tagging
pepper202 with the prompt "It's hard to believe that God made you and me with the same hands." from Believer by Chantal Kreviazuk. http://www.lyrics.com/url.php?link=http://www.geocities.com/chantal_net/believer.html *grins* Enjoy.
Fairy lights twinkled over the cheerful din of many young wizards and witches gathered in the Longbottom's spacious garden for yet another celebration of life. The crowd was upbeat and dynamic, a cross section of the Wizarding world's recent Hogwarts graduates as well as twenty something up and comers. The feté was in celebration of life in a giddy post war society, and the people attending were determined to celebrate.
Muggle music played magically from an unseen source, bass pumping heavily on the cobblestone terrace that had become a dance floor, the volume much quieter inside the house as well as on the surrounding terrace. The area around the makeshift dance floor was littered with tables and chairs where guests conversed noisily, their laughter rising in waves only to fall again.
But despite the jocularity and air of joy that infused the party, one man sat alone on the edge of the dance floor, tucked into a fairly secluded spot where he could watch the festivities and not be approached. Much.
~~~*~~~
“You sit there in your heartache, waiting on some beautiful boy to save you from your old ways.”
Harry was shocked out of his trance by a soft voice speaking in his ear. He turned to find Ginny in the seat beside him, looking much bemused.
He smiled wanly at her. “What was that?”
“Oh, just something I heard recently.” she replied, smiling back. “I thought it was rather appropriate, given the circumstances.”
“Oh?” Harry turned his gaze back across the dance floor, finding what he was looking for quickly. His attention was diverted from Ginny and she knew it
“Hmm,” Ginny's gaze followed his and they settled into a comfortable silence.
After the war, Harry had fully expected to pick up where he left off with her, but they both found that too many things had changed. Rather, two things in particular had changed. The first thing was Neville Longbottom and the other, Harry. Ginny found that she quite fancied the new war hardened Neville, and Harry found himself agreeing with her. Neville had changed quite a bit, maturing into his lanky frame and awkward features at last. Harry had to admit that he was quite fit these days, and clearly in his element as he mingled with his guests. A shadow of a beard graced his angular face and when combined with the soft leather of his jacket and crisp fit of his denims (Muggle clothing and music being all the rage at the moment) gave him a rugged appearance that none of the witches in attendance could ignore.
Harry sighed. It was a fact, Neville Longbottom had become quite fanciable. And that was the other thing that had changed. Harry had come to realize that he fancied blokes quite as much as he did girls, if not more. 'Strange,' he thought, 'that Neville would become the focal point of all this change.'
Harry's revelation was not at all common knowledge, however. The news that Harry Potter was, for all intents and purposes, gay would likely not go over well in magical society. Harry sighed again, feeling quite maudlin and not just a small bit depressed.
He turned to Ginny who was watching her fiance with an adoring smile. “Neville seems to be in his element tonight.” He commented, pleased that his friend had grown into himself at last. And pleased that he and Ginny were so happy with each other.
“Quite.” Ginny agreed. “He's changed so much I can barely recognize him as the boy who stuttered his way through asking me to the Yule Ball in my third year. Apparently he's fancied me for quite awhile.”
Harry nodded his agreement, glancing at Neville again, but his gaze was inevitably drawn back to it's original focus. Ginny smiled at him, quirking a brow at his obvious focus.
“So when are you going to ask him out?” she asked Harry, nodding toward the spot on the dance floor he could not seem to keep his eyes away from.
“It'll never happen.” Harry said with a sigh. “You know that as well as I do. Besides, he's probably not even gay.”
“Oh, Harry, you can certainly be oblivious when you set your mind to it.” Ginny said with a long suffering sigh.
“What does that mean?” Harry asked. He was tired of being condescended to, especially by the people close to him, but it seemed that Ginny and Hermione had it down to an art. 'It's a good thing I'm gay,' Harry thought. 'Ginny acts much more like a mother hen than a girlfriend.'
“It means, you silly boy, that it's obvious to pretty much everyone that he swings both ways.” Harry stared at her with a perplexed expression. “Not only that, but it's also clear he's had a thing for you for as long as you've known each other. If you don't believe me, ask Hermione.”
Harry winced. “I'd rather not, thanks.” Hermione had plenty to say on the subject of Harry's supposedly unrequited crush, and he was not up for hearing it all again. Besides, he knew very well that Hermione agreed with Ginny about said man's preferences. He sighed again, his gaze sweeping over the dance floor for the man in question but finding him by the bar instead. Truthfully, he thought the girls just might be right, but the idea of putting himself out there terrified him. So much for Gryffindor courage. Sure, he risked his life repeatedly with no compunction, but the prospect of risking his feelings made him cower.
“Harry, just promise me you'll ask him to dance.” Harry looked horrified at the very idea, and Ginny laughed. “Okay, no dancing. Ask him for dinner then, please?”
Harry rolled his eyes, but he knew he'd get no peace if he didn't agree. Besides, even he had to admit this was the perfect occasion to offer such an invitation. The thought of sending an owl or going to his house...no, in person, as humiliating as it may possibly be, was far preferable.
“Okay.” He agreed.
Ginny's eyes bugged out of her head, and her chin dropped in shock. Clearly she was not expecting him to agree so easily. He couldn't help but grin at her expression. Giving in suddenly certainly had it's advantages.
“You...okay? You will?” she asked, incredulous.
“I...yes.”
“Why now?”
“Well, it's the perfect time, really.” Harry replied. He tracked his quarry's movement across the terrace to the shadows opposite where Harry and Ginny sat. “He's here, I'm here and if I don't do it soon, you and Hermione will probably dose me with Veritaserum and send me off to his house or something equally devious and humiliating.
Ginny smiled and winked at him. “Or something.” She said.
Harry shook his head and picked up his drink, downing it in one gulp. “Okay,” He stood and straightened his shirt. “How do I look?”
Ginny took in his black t-shirt over faded jeans that were worn, but at least they fitted him well. They hung low on his hips and complimented his arse very nicely. She could see a flash of flatly muscled belly when he lifted his hands and ran them through his messy black hair. She nodded. Sure, he might not be dressed to kill as she knew his crush was, but on Harry, this look was as charming as it was attractive. He was certainly the type to pull it off, and she knew the simplicity and flashes of skin would please his quarry.
“You look great. I'm glad you wore the contacts tonight.” She told him, and he grinned.
“Thanks. I'm glad I got them.” He glanced toward the other side of the dance floor, just barely able to make out the other man in the shadows. He hesitated, but Ginny stood up and encouraged him by pushing him.
“If you feel the need for more liquid courage, stop off at the bar and get a drink, but don't let me catch you stalling there.” She said, waving as Neville caught sight of her and moved in her direction.
“I won't. Thanks Ginny.” He said, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.
“Hey Harry,” Neville said with a grin as Harry passed him. He was unconcerned that Harry had kissed his fiance. He was well aware of Harry's brotherly feelings for Ginny, as well as the fact that her feelings toward him matched them.
“Neville.” Harry returned the greeting. “Great party.”
“Thanks Harry.” Neville said. Harry barely heard him as his target came into view through a gap in the dancers. He swallowed but didn't falter, and decided to opt out of another drink. More alcohol might give him courage, true, but it would also loosen his tongue enough that he would say something stupid and ruin the slim chance he believed he had for a favorable outcome.
A few more steps and he was there. “Mind if I sit here?” He asked. He was determined not to make a fool of himself, not to stutter, not to take no for an answer.
“Whatever you'd like, Potter.” Malfoy, no, Draco looked at him, bemused. Harry was certain he had no idea what to make of Harry Potter asking to sit by him, after not even speaking to him in, oh...11 months. Not since he'd returned Draco's wand. But, since that day, Harry hadn't been able to get Draco out of his mind. And now, finally, he was going to do something about it.
“Thanks.” He said simply, and sat. He studied Draco for a few minutes, trying to really notice him, and not just see what he thought was there. He was gorgeous, but Harry knew that. He was also casting what Harry supposed he thought were surreptitious glances at Harry, and looking more discomfited by the second. So Harry waited.
Finally, Draco broke.
“Are you going to say something, or are you just going to stare at me all night, Potter?” He snapped, fingers twitching restlessly.
And it hit Harry. Hermione was right. Ginny was right. He did have a chance with Draco Malfoy. 'Well. Will wonders never cease.' Harry thought to himself, and grinned. He quashed the surge of fear and doubt that rushed over him and took the plunge.
“No, I'm going to say something.” He replied. “Not that I would be opposed to staring at you all night. You're rather an attractive bloke, Draco.” He said matter of factly, noticing Draco's start when he used his given name.
“Oh, really,” Draco said, looking nervous, as if Harry would disappear or laugh at him at any second.
“Yes. But the reason I came over here was to ask you to dinner.” Harry said, quelling the tremor in his hands by clamping them onto his legs.
“Dinner?” Draco was astounded for a moment before sliding into suspicion. “Why?”
“Because I'd like to get to know you better.” Harry said simply. Then, reaching deeper in to his ever growing well of Gryffindor courage, he stepped out on another limb. “Also, I'd like to shag you silly. What do you say?”
“You...but...” Draco was at a loss, turning to look out over the dance floor again, collecting himself.
Harry didn't take his gaze off Draco's face, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited, fate unknown.
“Yes.” Draco said, still looking away.
“Yes?”
“Yes. You can take me to dinner.” Now Draco was looking down at the table, his hands clenched. His lips were quirked in what seemed to be a smirk.
Harry leaned in closer, buoyed by Draco's acceptance. “And the other?” he whispered, voice low and full of promise.
Draco looked into his eyes. The heat and need in them was shocking, and Harry felt it like a punch of arousal in his gut.
“Yes.” Draco whispered back.
“Excellent.” Harry said, standing before he lost his nerve. “Now?” He reached a hand out to Draco, suddenly nervous again as the other man took his time responding.
“Yes.” Draco repeated, taking his hand and letting Harry pull him to his feet. They grinned at each other for a moment, and Harry felt all the nerves and doubt slip away. He pulled Draco in the direction of the house, to collect his jacket before he disapparated them to his flat.
They passed Hermione and Ginny on the way out, clearly his meddling friends had been watching the scene unfold. He held up a hand as Hermione opened her mouth, cutting her off. “Don't say it.” He said, but he winked so they would know he was okay.
But, in his haste to get to his jacket and then his flat, he missed Draco beaming at his friends, as well as Ginny giving the blonde an enthusiastic thumbs up.
~~*~~
Several hours later he collapsed onto his bed beside Draco, one leg thrown over Draco's own sticky limbs, panting, exhausted and happier than he'd ever been in his life.
“Merlin's frilly pants, Potter.” Draco panted from half under him. “Took you long enough. I should have gone to Granger years ago and saved us a lot of wasted time.”
Harry looked up. “Wha...” was all he managed before Draco pulled him down into a fierce snog, all thoughts of Hermione were pushed out of his mind once more.