FIC: Dirty Little Secret [Harry/Draco - NC-17]
Author: Anonymous
Title: Dirty Little Secret
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~ 6700
Prompt: #116 - Draco/Harry. Dirty Little Secret, submitted by freakingcrups
Notes: Thanks to N, my amazing beta/pritpicker, for the speedy turnaround. Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own. I hope you enjoy this, freakingcrups, and thanks for this delicious prompt.
Dirty Little Secret
Draco entered the hotel room and barely had a chance to drop the key on the table before strong hands grabbed him, spun him round, and slammed him face first against the door, wrists pinned above his head.
"Took you long enough," a familiar voice growled in his ear. The weight of Harry's body pressed Draco against the door and he could feel Harry's erection through the layers of clothes. "Can't wait to be inside you."
Draco's cock twitched at the words, even while his mind resisted. This was what it all came down to, wasn't it? There was a time, not long ago, when those words would have had Draco hard instantly. There was something about sneaking around, about having Harry all to himself, that made everything more exciting, more thrilling. Not to mention that knowledge was power and, if he believed Harry, Draco was the only wizard that even knew Harry was gay. That he was with Draco, former enemy and former Death Eater, was an even darker secret. But lately, somehow, it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.
Harry's hands released his wrists and went straight for Draco's belt, deftly reaching around to undo it and his trousers, then sliding inside to wrap one hand around his cock, and pull his hips back with the other, and grind his groin against Draco's arse. Draco stopped thinking. Like he always did when he was with Harry.
"Haven't stopped thinking about you all day," Harry said as he nibbled the back of Draco's neck.
Draco let his arms drop down to Harry's hands, removing them from his trousers, then turned around. He needed to see Harry, to look into his eyes. He grasped Harry's face and drew him in for a bruising kiss. He thrust his tongue inside, again and again, plundering Harry's mouth and desperately trying to convey feelings he couldn't express with words. Harry moaned and his body melted against Draco's, once again pressing him against the door.
No. Not this time.
Draco relaxed and slowed himself down. He took the time to explore Harry's mouth, wrapping his tongue around Harry's in a slow, sensual dance, tasting him, breathing in the scent of him. Oh, yes. That was much better.
He drew back reluctantly to find Harry's face flushed, his pupils blown to nearly cover the vibrant green usually present, and wearing an expression of mingled lust and something Draco didn't dare put a name to. Their breath blended together as they stared at each other, Draco hoping once again to convey his feelings without words, Harry probably stunned at the sudden onslaught of a gentleness never experienced between them before.
"Bed," Draco said, his voice raspy and low. Harry nodded and led the way, Draco struggling not to trip over his trousers en route. Harry began to tug his shirt out from his jeans, but Draco stopped him. "Let me."
Harry looked at him curiously but didn't argue. Draco pulled Harry's shirt free of his jeans, then slowly, methodically undid each button, letting his fingers linger on Harry's chest as he went. Harry's breath hitched and Draco felt a surge of triumph. When at last the final button was freed, he opened Harry's shirt to reveal his chest, muscular and scarred. Draco ran gentle fingers over each imperfection, then followed with his tongue, the urge to reach beyond the surface, perhaps heal deeper wounds, too strong to resist.
Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair, then tugged him back. Draco looked up and met Harry's puzzled gaze with one of determination. Harry pulled him up and brought their lips together, gently at first, then with more force. Draco couldn't stop a needy groan escaping, and he slipped Harry's shirt over his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground before frantically removing his own. He needed contact, skin on skin. Needed to crawl inside Harry, be a part of him.
"Want to be inside you," he said. Harry tensed. They'd never done that before, and Draco wasn't sure why tonight, of all nights, he felt such an overwhelming need to be with Harry like this. But he did. Maybe because he knew he'd never again have the chance.
"Okay," Harry said.
Draco gasped, as though he hadn't expected that response. "Are you sure?"
Harry responded with a crooked grin. "I'm sure."
Draco tackled Harry to the bed, eliciting a chuckle from him. He made quick work of Harry's trousers and pants, while Harry divested Draco of his. Their hands and mouths explored each other's bodies until they both ached with need.
"Now, Draco," Harry said. "Need you."
Draco's eyes went wide. Harry didn't need him. He never would. It was Draco that needed, Draco that couldn't live without Harry. Even though he knew he'd have to. All too soon.
Casting the gloomy thought aside, Draco nibbled his way down Harry's body, settled himself between Harry's thighs and pressed his lips to the head of Harry's cock. He kissed his way down, then licked a path upwards, from base to tip, before grasping hold of the shaft with one hand and drawing it towards his mouth. He circled the head with his tongue before pressing into the slit, leaking with pre-come, eliciting a moan of pleasure from Harry. Draco inhaled deeply and responded with a groan of his own as the scent and taste and feel of Harry nearly overloaded his senses. Teasing over, Draco descended, engulfing Harry's prick in one go.
Harry's hips thrust forward and Draco had to pull back. His hands managed to press Harry's hips down, allowing him to set the pace.
"Sorry," Harry gasped. "You just ... wow. Caught me off-guard." Draco hummed and Harry's hips lifted once more, though not quite as out of control. "Stop that!" he said, his words muffled by gasps.
Draco lifted his brows at Harry's comment, and Harry moaned again. "No, I didn't mean that," he said. He tossed his head back against the pillow and tugged at his mop of hair, making it stick out even more than usual. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
Draco grinned as he drew up, dragging his tongue along the vein at the underside of Harry's cock, causing every muscle in Harry's body to stiffen. Merlin, how Draco loved every sound, every reaction he got from Harry. The man never held back, and fuck it if that didn't drive Draco closer to the edge every time. The fact that no one got to see this side of Harry, no one but Draco, filled Draco with such elation he didn't know how he would ever live without this. How he could ever stand to see Harry with someone else.
He wandlessly summoned the lube, more determined than ever to make this a night Harry would never forget. Draco already knew he never would. After all, it isn't every day one buggered the saviour of the world. As he watched Harry come undone, Draco revised that thought. It wasn't every day he was granted this privilege. Harry trusted Draco enough to draw him in, allow him to get closer than anyone ever had, become one with him in such an intimate way. Harry trusted him, and at that moment, it was all that mattered.
Slowing his pace and releasing his hand's grip on Harry's cock, Draco reined in the overwhelming rush of emotion that threatened to overtake him, and he opened the jar. He slathered a large quantity - too much really, but better too much than too little - onto one hand and returned his other to grasp the base of Harry's cock. He reached back and coated Harry's entrance with lube, then circled it with a finger.
Harry tensed and Draco released his cock. "It's okay, Harry," he said gently. "I won't hurt you."
"I know you won't," Harry said. He reached for Draco and drew him forward, meeting him part way in a kiss. Draco melted into it, bathed in the flood of emotion once more. God, they'd fucked so many times, but when Harry kissed him, Draco was truly lost.
Grudgingly, Draco drew back, kissing his way down Harry's torso, stopping to encircle one nipple with his tongue, then moved to the other, basking in Harry's undoing. Once again, he circled Harry's opening with his lube-slicked finger. When he pressed inside, Draco's mind went blank, save for the realisation that he was inside Harry. Slowly, gently, he stretched Harry until he was ready for another finger. Harry hissed at this second breach.
"You okay?" Draco asked.
"Mm."
By the time Harry was ready for a third finger, Draco was sweating and Harry was writhing, and it was all Draco could do not to go straight for his cock. "This will sting," he warned. At Harry's incredulous look, he amended, "More." Then he pressed his three fingers inside and Harry winced.
Draco moved gently, stretching and soothing, rubbing his free hand over Harry's tense stomach muscles. Harry's erection had flagged slightly, so Draco took it into his mouth once more. Harry's cock swelled as Draco expertly worked his lips and tongue along its length.
"Now," Harry gasped. "Want you now."
Draco didn't need asking twice, and released Harry's cock with a final swirl of his tongue. He slathered lube on his now aching prick and a bit more on Harry before lining up the head and pressing in as slowly as his crushing need allowed. Harry tensed and Draco reached for his hand.
"Relax, Harry."
"Does it hurt this much all the time?" he asked through clenched teeth.
Draco chuckled. "What do you think?"
Harry relaxed a fraction, then pried open his eyes to meet Draco's. "No."
"No, it doesn't. But the first time ... "
"Yeah."
"Just breathe," Draco said, using all his will to remain still. "Breathe and relax. It gets better." Harry looked at him dubiously. "Trust me."
Harry nodded. "Okay."
"Okay, okay?" Draco asked, trying to read Harry's face, to see if he was just being his usual Gryffindor self - brave but stupid - or if he was really ready.
"Yeah. Okay. Let's do this."
"Gee, you make it sound so wonderful." Draco couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He was, after all, making it as easy as he could.
"Just do it and get it over-- Fuck!"
Draco slid inside, gently but completely. "There," he said. "The worst is over."
"Bastard!"
"What?" Draco's voice conveyed complete innocence. "You said to do it, so I did."
Harry lay panting, his eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck."
Draco frowned. "I didn't really hurt you, did I?" he asked.
"No. I'm fine." Harry's shaky voice belied his words, but he looked up at Draco. "Just ... caught me by surprise." He shifted his hips a little. "Not so bad now."
Draco chanced some movement of his own, in small circles. "Okay if I move now?"
Harry gripped Draco's biceps. Hard. "Sure."
Draco shook with suppressed laughter and Harry glared at him. He leaned down and kissed Harry thoroughly. "Relax and enjoy," he said. That Harry was only half-hard again now hadn't escaped his notice.
Draco reached for Harry's cock and gave it a few tugs while he withdrew slowly, only a couple of inches. He pressed back in as he swiped his thumb over the leaking head. Harry's tense muscles relaxed slightly.
Sweat formed on Draco's upper lip as he fought for control, easing out and pressing back several times to establish a rhythm. He released Harry's cock, resting his hands either side of Harry's head, then captured Harry's lower lip tenderly between his teeth.
"Feels so good," he said. "So tight."
Harry attempted a smile which came out more as a grimace.
"Ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
Draco pulled nearly his whole length back, then thrust back in, still holding back, acutely aware of Harry's trepidation. He repeated the motion several times, dropping errant kisses on Harry's chest. Harry's grip lessened and he began to move in time with Draco's thrusts.
"More," Harry said. Draco obliged.
Several thrusts later, Harry tensed up once more and his back arched off the bed. "Holy shit!"
Draco laughed. "Like that?"
"Hell, yeah. Do that again."
Draco did. It was hit and miss, but he managed to connect with the bundle of nerves inside Harry several more times before Harry's grip became painful again. "Oh, God. I'm --" Harry's seed spilled between them and his channel gripped Draco's cock in spasms that, a few strokes later, brought Draco to climax. As Draco rocked through his orgasm, he looked down into Harry's eyes. Eyes that were once again green and gazing up at Draco in wonder.
Too much. Draco blinked and looked away as he slowed his movements until they both became still. He drew himself from Harry's body and fell onto the mattress beside him, breathing deeply.
When Harry's breathing slowed to the point that Draco thought he was asleep, he figured it was safe to look. On the rare occasion that Harry allowed himself to nod off, Draco liked to watch him sleep. His worry lines faded and he looked years younger, peaceful in slumber. Draco turned his head, only to find Harry watching him.
"What?" he asked, fighting the urge to look away from Harry's intense gaze.
Harry reached up and tucked some stray hair behind Draco's ear, then ran fingers over his cheek before cupping it in perhaps the single most intimate gesture they'd ever shared. Draco leaned into the touch without thinking.
"I can never get enough of you," Harry said. And he kissed Draco on the forehead.
Draco lay back once more, flinging his arm over his eyes in a show of nonchalance he didn't feel. This was all too much. Harry hadn't said the words, but ... well, Draco hadn't expected anything like that. Still. Perhaps this was their turning point. He allowed himself a moment to consider the possibility that they might make it after all, and he turned his head to face Harry.
"The feeling is entirely mutual," he said.
"Good," Harry announced with a smile and more energy than he had a right to. "Because you'd better be ready soon for round two."
Oh. Well then.
True to his word, Harry was ready to go a short time later, and no less enthusiastic for their earlier session. Though Draco noted that Harry was more gentle, more tender than he'd grown accustomed to. Which made things better and worse in equal measure. Better because, despite his fleeting wish that this could last, Draco knew, deep down, that this would be their last time together, and he could hold this memory with him. Worse, because he was afraid he might not have the strength to go through with his plan.
When Harry kissed him afterwards, Draco clung to him like he'd never let go. Because he never wanted to. But he knew he had to.
When, predictably, Harry rose to put on his clothes, Draco sighed. This was it, then. "Harry, why don't you stay? Just this once."
"I can't," he said, now searching for a stray sock and avoiding Draco's eyes.
"You're a grown man," Draco pointed out. Quite unnecessarily. "You can stay out all night."
"We've discussed this," Harry said. He found the sock and pulled it on. He frowned in Draco's direction, eyes devoid of emotion. "We agreed. No one can know."
"Yes, I know, but --"
"Nothing's changed," Harry said.
Nothing had changed. Draco had imagined it all. Logically, he knew he hadn't, but if Harry wanted to deny what was going on, then who was he to try to convince Harry otherwise. Besides, Harry was too stubborn to be convinced of anything anyway. It's not like this wasn't how Draco had expected this evening to end.
Draco swung the covers off and climbed out of the bed. He didn't look at Harry, didn't say anything, just gathered his clothes and put them on. Harry watched him but said nothing. When Draco was dressed he pulled out his wand. Harry reached for him, but he stepped back.
"I won't be your dirty little secret any more," he said. "See you around, Potter." And he Disapparated.
***
Several weeks passed and Draco threw himself into his work, both at the apothecary in Diagon Alley where he earned his living and built up his reputation, and at his home laboratory where he did research. Draco had been developing some potions to treat long-term memory loss, and several batches had now reached a critical stage.
For the first week, Harry had sent daily owls, all of which Draco returned, unopened. The second week he'd sent three, then this week one. It had been four days now. Draco took a deep breath, careful not to inhale the fumes from the nearby bubbling potion.
It was better this way. Draco had made the right decision, calling things off. He'd been hard-pressed to look himself in the mirror lately, and had decided, at great length, that he deserved better. Not better than Harry - Merlin knew Harry was ... He was Harry-fucking-Potter. And Draco lov--. No. He wouldn't go there. He knew that Harry was worth a hundred of him, but Draco still deserved better than to be hidden away, someone or something unworthy of recognition. Draco deserved someone who wasn't ashamed to be seen with him. Of course, with the name Malfoy, even years after the war, he was short of opportunities.
Giving the potions one last turn with his wand, he left them for the day and made his way upstairs to drink his tea and read the paper before heading to the shop.
His stomach lurched at the headline and he dropped his teacup.
Hero of the Wizarding World is Gay
Witches the world round are shedding tears as Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, Chosen One, Vanquisher of Voldemort, Saviour of the Wizarding World, revealed yesterday in an article in The Quibbler that he likes men.
Asked if there was anyone special in his life, Auror Potter said no. He just thought it was time to let the public know.
"Living in the shadows isn't much of a life," he explained.
For full interview, see Gay Hero, page 3.
What the ...?
Surely he hadn't -- This wasn't because of -- It couldn't be.
No. Draco scanned over the page once more. No one special, Harry had said. That spoke volumes, didn't it? But ... Draco hadn't answered his owls, and he had left. So technically there was no one. Not any more.
Did Draco dare to hope?
He resisted the urge to contact Harry and went to work, knowing it was his day to open the apothecary and that his boss didn't abide tardiness. By the time he left for lunch, he'd had his fill of muttered rumblings among the customers, Harry being the topic of choice.
Not wanting to arouse his mother's suspicion, he didn't Apparate home, but rather, used one of the local post owls to send Harry a letter.
Harry,
Have you gone mad? What have you done?
D
There was so much more to say, but not anything he should or would write in a letter. Having eaten nothing that morning, Draco picked up lunch at a local diner and returned to work.
He returned to the Manor that evening to find a special edition of The Prophet on the terrace table with his tea. Once more, Harry was all the rage: Potter and Old School Rival Seen Together
Draco felt ill. He was sure they'd been careful. No one could have seen them together, could they? The only way was if someone had peered through the window of some hotel. Knowing the press, that wasn't entirely out of the question. But Draco had told no one, and Harry ... he wouldn't have told anyone, would he? He hadn't told Granger and Weasley, or he could have stayed with Draco. Harry had been clear that he didn't want questions from them if he didn't come home at night, and they didn't seem any closer to leaving Grimmauld Place to move out on their own. So how did the press know? Draco looked back at the article with trepidation.
Potter and Old School Rival Seen Together
Harry Potter has been seen about town several times with former classmate Zacharias Smith. Sources tell us that the two had been rivals back at Hogwarts, but no one will confirm or deny rumours that they are a couple.
As was reported in the earlier edition today, Harry Potter has announced that he is gay. Though he denies any special relationship, one wonders why he would come out now if there weren't one.
Neither Mr Potter nor Mr Smith was available for comment.
See earlier edition for full interview with Mr Potter. See page 6 for details on sightings.
Draco balled up the paper, marched inside and threw it onto the fire. Fucking Zacharias Smith! What the fuck? Draco wasn't good enough, but now that fucking useless shit Smith was someone Harry would announce to the world? After three weeks?
His blood boiled and his hands shook as he watched the embers die. Harry must have been seeing Smith at the same time he was with Draco. That was the only explanation. There's no way such a short-lived fling, even if they started fucking the day Draco had left Harry in that hotel room, would be reason enough for Harry to tell the world.
Not for the first time, he regretted not having opened the letters Harry had sent. He wondered now what they might have said. So sorry, Draco, but I've been fucking Smith on the side. Thanks for making this easy for me. I think I'll be letting everyone know now. Ta, Harry.
"Argh!" Draco picked up the first thing he could reach - one of his mother's favourite vases - but before he could throw it, his mother's voice rang across the room and the vase floated over to her.
"Please tell me you were not about to throw this against the wall," she said calmly. Too calmly. Draco didn't care.
"What if I was?" he yelled.
She flicked her wand and a chair came sliding across the room, knocking the back of his legs and landing him in it. "You will not speak to me that way, young man."
Merlin, what was he thinking. "Of course not. Sorry, Mother."
"That's better." She called a house-elf to bring them some wine, and once the elf had returned with it, his mother handed Draco a glass and sat across from him.
"Now, what has you in such a state?"
"Nothing," he grumbled.
She said nothing, only stared.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with this afternoon's newspaper that you appear to have burned, would it?"
Bloody hell. How did she always know? "Perhaps."
"Are you bothered that Mr Potter appears to be getting so much attention again?"
"Not particularly," he lied.
She raised a brow.
"Okay, fine. Yes. The articles about Harry are --"
She raised a brow. "Harry is it now?"
Fuck. "Whatever."
"Do tell me, Draco darling, that you do not have a thing for the man."
He gave up. There would be no brushing her off, and certainly no lying to her. "Actually, we have - had - a thing for each other. But it obviously wasn't enough."
She scowled. Draco hated when his mother scowled: it reminded him of those days. "What do you mean, not enough?"
He sighed. "Must you know everything, Mother?"
"I only want to help."
"You can't help." She waited. "Fine. We had a thing. A private thing. A thing that no one was to know about." She scowled again. "Before you say anything, we'd both agreed that was best. Only, after a while, it wasn't. Not for me anyway. I told Harry that, but he didn't agree. I left. End of story."
"But it's not the end, is it?"
Draco took a far too large gulp of his wine, but he needed something to ease the pain. "No."
"And now Mr Potter is with someone else?"
"Yes."
"Someone he's willing to tell the world about?"
Fuck, but it hurt to hear someone say that out loud. "Yes."
"I see."
"It's fine. I ... I got out before ... "
"Oh, Draco." She put a hand on his and looked at him with pained eyes. "Don't you know you can't lie to me?"
He swigged back the last of the wine and placed the glass carefully on the table. "If you don't mind, Mother, I would like to retire to my rooms."
"Of course, darling. Shall I have dinner sent up to you?"
Draco nodded, thankful that she wouldn't make this awkward situation even worse. "Please."
"Sleep as best you can," she said. "And I'll see you at breakfast."
Ah. He was being granted a temporary reprieve only. He kissed her cheek. "I'll see you in the morning." At least his father wouldn't be a witness to this. Guilt took over as Draco realised he'd just been thankful his father was in prison. Not that he didn't deserve to be there, but ...
Draco spent a fitful hour scribbling messages to Harry, each one more pathetic than the one before. Some asked why. Some demanded an explanation. One simply said Smith, really?
He threw them all away, his mother's voice echoing in his head. When you are emotionally volatile, never send correspondence that could be traced back to you. Volatile. Oh, he was volatile all right.
Visions of Harry and Smith together kept infiltrating his thoughts, making Draco more ill as the night wore on. It wasn't just because Harry was with someone else, though Draco wasn't fool enough to deny that that would hurt no matter what. Not that he'd admit that to Harry or anyone else. But Smith? Smith? The bloke was a complete arse. Okay, he was good looking enough, but still. Smith?
When their house elf brought dinner, Draco was pleased to see a bottle of wine on the tray. Ignoring the food altogether, he poured himself a glass. And another. And another. Collapsing on the bed, the bottle empty and his senses numb, he knew but just didn't care how he'd feel come morning.
He awoke to a pounding headache, a roiling stomach, and a phial of hangover potion on his night table. Bless her. For all her interfering ways, his mother was good to him.
When he stepped onto the terrace for breakfast, however, he reconsidered his earlier assessment. There, sipping tea, were his mother and Harry.
"Potter, what the -- What are you doing here?"
Harry had the audacity to grin. "Your mother invited me."
"Mother," he growled. "A word?"
"Certainly." She dabbed her mouth unnecessarily with her napkin, then placed it on the table. "Mr Potter, if you'll excuse me for a moment."
"Call me Harry, please." Harry stood as Narcissa got up.
"Very well," she said. "Harry, we won't be but a moment. Do carry on, please."
Harry nodded and Draco spun round and stomped his way into the house. He made his way to the sitting room, the closest room to afford them privacy, not bothering to look back to be sure his mother followed. He stood, hands on the mantel, taking deep breaths that did nothing to calm him. When Draco heard the doors close, he cast a Muffliato and wheeled round on his mother.
"What in blazes do you think you're doing?"
"Why, I don't know what you mean, darling."
Sometimes - times such as these - Draco had visions. Visions that involved taking his mother by the shoulders and shaking her senseless. No, senseless wasn't the right word. What she was doing right now was senseless. He had visions of shaking sense into her.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why is Harry here?"
"You heard him." The picture of innocence, his mother was Slytherin to the core. "I invited him."
Draco clenched and unclenched his fists several times in an effort not to turn his vision into reality, however tempting. "Why did you invite him here?"
"So the two of you could talk, of course."
"Talk? The two of us? I don't believe there's anything for us to talk about without me completely humiliating myself." Draco's heart raced and his breathing was approaching hyperventilation stage. "Ask him to leave at once."
"No."
"Fine, then. I'll leave." He marched past his mother and reached for the door. At which point a Body Bind curse hit him in the back. Draco was so going to kill her for this later.
"Draco, I think you need to listen to what Mr -- to what Harry has to say. It is rather enlightening. You don't have to say a word in response. Just listen." She brushed imaginary lint from her robe as she approached him. "Now, you may go outside like a good host and listen to the man, and be polite, or I can invite him inside where you can sit, in your current state, and listen. It makes no difference to me, but you will hear him out."
Draco tried to scowl, attempted to throw daggers at his mother with his eyes, and desperately called upon his magic to release him, but nothing worked.
"Now, I will release you, at which time you will advise me which option you choose. Then I will leave you and Harry to chat, and you can do whatever you wish from then on. I assure you I will not interfere further. Well, for today anyway."
She removed his wand from its pocket, then released him.
He held out his hand, but she clutched his wand in her own. "Very well, Mother, I will go outside and listen to what he has to say. Then I will politely ask him to leave. Then I will go to work."
"Oh, I forgot to mention. I took the liberty of contacting your employer, advising him that there was a family emergency and you were called away. He looks forward to seeing you tomorrow and wishes us well."
"What?" The woman was infuriating. "I'm an adult, Mother! Adults don't have their mothers contacting their bosses."
She looked genuinely confused. "But of course they do. All the pureblood families do. Until a son is wed, his mother is often the conduit. Oh, never mind that." She handed him his wand and waved him off. "Go talk to Harry, and do apologise for me for abandoning him."
Draco rolled his eyes and walked back out onto the terrace.
"I cannot believe her!" he ranted, mindless of the fact that he was supposed to be angry with Harry. "Do you know what she did? She contacted my boss to tell him I wouldn't be in today. My boss!" He threw his hands up in exasperation.
Harry laughed. "She just wants what's best for you, you know."
Draco gaped at him. Oh, no. This was not on. He sat next to Harry. "What the fuck do you want anyway?" he asked, ignoring his mother's direction to be polite.
"Now, do you think your mother would appreciate you speaking to a guest like that?" he teased.
"Get on with it."
Harry's shoulders shook for a few moments and Draco glared at him. Eventually, he settled and was able to maintain a modicum of restraint.
"Well?" Draco's patience, never his strong suit, dwindled.
"I got your owl," he said.
Oh, God, had he sent drunken owl post last night? He thought about how pathetic he sounded, how desperate in those notes he'd scribbled. Then he shook that off when he remembered. He'd sent one from Diagon Alley. "That was before the article about Smith."
Harry cringed. "About that."
Draco forestalled him with a raised hand. "No need. You've moved on. Rather fast, it would seem, but whatever. You made your decision. No need to belabour the point."
Draco was quite proud he'd got that out without his voice quavering or his face flushing. His hands seemed steady as well. He wondered briefly if his mother had added a hint of Calming Draught to the Hangover Potion.
"I'm investigating Smith," Harry said.
Draco snorted. "Is that what you're calling it?"
Harry frowned. "This isn't funny, Draco."
"No," Draco agreed. "It's not."
"He's under investigation for ... well, I can't say, actually. But I'm not involved with him, and - Ew! - What would make you believe that anyway?"
"I don't know, Harry, let's see. We were together for months, and not once did you tell anyone, did you? I tell you I want you to stay with me, just one night, and you refuse. I leave, and weeks later you come out to the world. The next day it's reported you've been seen in the company of another man, repeatedly. What was I supposed to think?"
"But Smith?"
Draco shuddered. "Yes, well, the thought rather sickened me, if I'm to be honest."
Harry grinned briefly before his features hardened once more. "This is the reason I didn't want to say anything. I knew that once I did, the press would hound me, follow me, try to dig up something on me."
"Yes, yes, and we all know what horrible dirt it would be for you to be associated with me." Even coming from his own mouth, the words stung. It was true. He'd known it to be true all along, but ... At first it had been all about the rush, the passion, the thrill, but somewhere along the way, Draco had begun to care. He'd let down those walls he'd spent years building up, and as soon as he'd let Harry in, he'd been crushed.
Harry reached across the table for his hands, but Draco drew back. "Don't."
"Is that what you think?" he asked. "That I would be ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with you?"
Draco rolled his eyes. Surely Harry didn't think him so gullible. "Oh, please don't pretend it's not true."
This time Harry did grab Draco's hands, and no struggling helped free them. "Draco, look at me."
Draco glared, trying desperately to keep the pain from showing.
"I didn't want you to be subjected to all this. The press, they're vultures. They would swoop down on you and dig up all the dirt they possibly could and drag your name through the mud. They would dredge up everything - and I mean everything - and then make up a bunch more. They would reverse, in one article, all the good you've done since the war. I couldn't stand to see that happen to you."
Draco pulled his hands back, and Harry released them. It made sense. Harry was always selfless like that. Stupid Gryffindor. And Draco had been sure there was more, in his eyes, his touch, in everything that last night. But Draco just couldn't get past the fact that Harry told no one. Not even Weasley and Granger.
"Don't you know how I feel about you?" Harry asked.
Draco thought he had, but then convinced himself it had all been wishful thinking. Ridiculous notions of a foolish man. He shrugged. "You never said."
"Seriously?" Harry laughed. "We're blokes. We don't talk about our feelings. Isn't that the beauty of not being involved with women?"
Draco raised a brow. "I hardly think that's the best part."
Harry laughed again, and Draco liked the sound of it. He'd missed that. "No, I suppose you're right. But it is a bonus."
Draco waved his hand about. "I don't want to have long discussions as we walk hand-in-hand along the beach at sunset, Harry. I just ... well, I'd like to know where I stand. That's all. It wouldn't hurt to hear once in a while."
"Remember that last night together, when I said I can't get enough of you?"
"Yes."
"I meant that." Once again, he took Draco's hands in his. "I don't want to sneak around, see you for a few hours at a time, then slink away like there's something wrong with what we're doing. But I don't want anyone to hurt you."
"I'm a grown man, Potter."
"I know you are, but --"
"Why didn't you tell Granger and Weasley?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"No, I'm quite serious."
Harry ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end. Draco smiled despite himself. He'd missed so many things in the past few weeks. Who'd have thought he'd miss that?
"I couldn't tell Ron, because he'd tell Hermione. And Hermione would have been all over me about gay rights, and how I could make a difference, and how I could be a role model for today's youth, and ... well, you get the idea."
Draco thought about Granger and her stupid elf rights and knew Harry was right. "What, don't you want to be the poster boy for yet another cause? I know how much you love the limelight."
"Fuck off."
Draco smiled. "So now what?"
"Now I arrest Smith."
"Already?"
Harry grinned. "It appears your mother has some connections, and some evidence made its way to my office."
"Mother?"
Harry raised a hand. "I didn't ask and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know. All I know is that she sent me an owl asking if I was aware that the man I was involved with had shady dealings going on."
"Shady dealings?"
Harry shrugged. "Her words, not mine. Anyway, suffice it to say, I acknowledged that, in fact, I was aware of rumours about Smith's involvement in certain unsavoury adventures - my words, not hers - and I made perfectly clear that I was not, nor had I ever been, nor would I, Merlin forbid, ever be involved with the likes of someone like Zacharias Smith." He paused to grin at Draco. "Next thing I know, a package containing evidence against him arrived at my office, and an invitation to breakfast at the Manor followed. And here I am."
"So you are." Draco tried to process everything, but it was all a bit much. He stood up, walked to the edge of the terrace and stared out at the gardens, recalling the carefree days he's spent playing out here as a child. "Everything's changed, Harry."
"Nothing's changed," Harry said. Draco heard his footsteps and felt the warmth of his body as he stood behind Draco and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist. Harry rubbed his nose along Draco's neck before whispering in his ear, "Nothing important anyway." He placed a soft kiss where neck met shoulder and Draco shivered.
"It was important three weeks ago."
"I hadn't lost you three weeks ago," Harry replied. "Nothing's more important than that."
"You never lost me, Harry." Draco turned around and placed his hands on either side of Harry's face. He looked into those green eyes that he'd missed so much and placed the softest of kisses on his lips. "I can't seem to forget about you, no matter what I do."
Harry smiled. "It was only three weeks."
Draco shrugged. "Felt like a lifetime."
"You sure about this?" Harry asked.
Draco nodded. "I want all of you," he said. "Even the press."
Harry winked. "You always did like the attention."
Draco thought momentarily about Granger and how relentless she could be. He scowled. "We will not be poster boys for gay rights."
Harry shook his head. "No. But you can break that news to Hermione."
"Done, provided you advise the press that I don't have you under Imperius."
"Done."
"And I," Narcissa said, waltzing onto the terrace as though she'd been part of the conversation all along, "will ensure that no one besmirches our name."
Draco looked at Harry whose eyes had widened. "Don't ask."
Harry shook his head. "I wouldn't dream of it."
~ FIN ~
Title: Dirty Little Secret
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~ 6700
Prompt: #116 - Draco/Harry. Dirty Little Secret, submitted by freakingcrups
Notes: Thanks to N, my amazing beta/pritpicker, for the speedy turnaround. Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own. I hope you enjoy this, freakingcrups, and thanks for this delicious prompt.
Dirty Little Secret
Draco entered the hotel room and barely had a chance to drop the key on the table before strong hands grabbed him, spun him round, and slammed him face first against the door, wrists pinned above his head.
"Took you long enough," a familiar voice growled in his ear. The weight of Harry's body pressed Draco against the door and he could feel Harry's erection through the layers of clothes. "Can't wait to be inside you."
Draco's cock twitched at the words, even while his mind resisted. This was what it all came down to, wasn't it? There was a time, not long ago, when those words would have had Draco hard instantly. There was something about sneaking around, about having Harry all to himself, that made everything more exciting, more thrilling. Not to mention that knowledge was power and, if he believed Harry, Draco was the only wizard that even knew Harry was gay. That he was with Draco, former enemy and former Death Eater, was an even darker secret. But lately, somehow, it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.
Harry's hands released his wrists and went straight for Draco's belt, deftly reaching around to undo it and his trousers, then sliding inside to wrap one hand around his cock, and pull his hips back with the other, and grind his groin against Draco's arse. Draco stopped thinking. Like he always did when he was with Harry.
"Haven't stopped thinking about you all day," Harry said as he nibbled the back of Draco's neck.
Draco let his arms drop down to Harry's hands, removing them from his trousers, then turned around. He needed to see Harry, to look into his eyes. He grasped Harry's face and drew him in for a bruising kiss. He thrust his tongue inside, again and again, plundering Harry's mouth and desperately trying to convey feelings he couldn't express with words. Harry moaned and his body melted against Draco's, once again pressing him against the door.
No. Not this time.
Draco relaxed and slowed himself down. He took the time to explore Harry's mouth, wrapping his tongue around Harry's in a slow, sensual dance, tasting him, breathing in the scent of him. Oh, yes. That was much better.
He drew back reluctantly to find Harry's face flushed, his pupils blown to nearly cover the vibrant green usually present, and wearing an expression of mingled lust and something Draco didn't dare put a name to. Their breath blended together as they stared at each other, Draco hoping once again to convey his feelings without words, Harry probably stunned at the sudden onslaught of a gentleness never experienced between them before.
"Bed," Draco said, his voice raspy and low. Harry nodded and led the way, Draco struggling not to trip over his trousers en route. Harry began to tug his shirt out from his jeans, but Draco stopped him. "Let me."
Harry looked at him curiously but didn't argue. Draco pulled Harry's shirt free of his jeans, then slowly, methodically undid each button, letting his fingers linger on Harry's chest as he went. Harry's breath hitched and Draco felt a surge of triumph. When at last the final button was freed, he opened Harry's shirt to reveal his chest, muscular and scarred. Draco ran gentle fingers over each imperfection, then followed with his tongue, the urge to reach beyond the surface, perhaps heal deeper wounds, too strong to resist.
Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair, then tugged him back. Draco looked up and met Harry's puzzled gaze with one of determination. Harry pulled him up and brought their lips together, gently at first, then with more force. Draco couldn't stop a needy groan escaping, and he slipped Harry's shirt over his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground before frantically removing his own. He needed contact, skin on skin. Needed to crawl inside Harry, be a part of him.
"Want to be inside you," he said. Harry tensed. They'd never done that before, and Draco wasn't sure why tonight, of all nights, he felt such an overwhelming need to be with Harry like this. But he did. Maybe because he knew he'd never again have the chance.
"Okay," Harry said.
Draco gasped, as though he hadn't expected that response. "Are you sure?"
Harry responded with a crooked grin. "I'm sure."
Draco tackled Harry to the bed, eliciting a chuckle from him. He made quick work of Harry's trousers and pants, while Harry divested Draco of his. Their hands and mouths explored each other's bodies until they both ached with need.
"Now, Draco," Harry said. "Need you."
Draco's eyes went wide. Harry didn't need him. He never would. It was Draco that needed, Draco that couldn't live without Harry. Even though he knew he'd have to. All too soon.
Casting the gloomy thought aside, Draco nibbled his way down Harry's body, settled himself between Harry's thighs and pressed his lips to the head of Harry's cock. He kissed his way down, then licked a path upwards, from base to tip, before grasping hold of the shaft with one hand and drawing it towards his mouth. He circled the head with his tongue before pressing into the slit, leaking with pre-come, eliciting a moan of pleasure from Harry. Draco inhaled deeply and responded with a groan of his own as the scent and taste and feel of Harry nearly overloaded his senses. Teasing over, Draco descended, engulfing Harry's prick in one go.
Harry's hips thrust forward and Draco had to pull back. His hands managed to press Harry's hips down, allowing him to set the pace.
"Sorry," Harry gasped. "You just ... wow. Caught me off-guard." Draco hummed and Harry's hips lifted once more, though not quite as out of control. "Stop that!" he said, his words muffled by gasps.
Draco lifted his brows at Harry's comment, and Harry moaned again. "No, I didn't mean that," he said. He tossed his head back against the pillow and tugged at his mop of hair, making it stick out even more than usual. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
Draco grinned as he drew up, dragging his tongue along the vein at the underside of Harry's cock, causing every muscle in Harry's body to stiffen. Merlin, how Draco loved every sound, every reaction he got from Harry. The man never held back, and fuck it if that didn't drive Draco closer to the edge every time. The fact that no one got to see this side of Harry, no one but Draco, filled Draco with such elation he didn't know how he would ever live without this. How he could ever stand to see Harry with someone else.
He wandlessly summoned the lube, more determined than ever to make this a night Harry would never forget. Draco already knew he never would. After all, it isn't every day one buggered the saviour of the world. As he watched Harry come undone, Draco revised that thought. It wasn't every day he was granted this privilege. Harry trusted Draco enough to draw him in, allow him to get closer than anyone ever had, become one with him in such an intimate way. Harry trusted him, and at that moment, it was all that mattered.
Slowing his pace and releasing his hand's grip on Harry's cock, Draco reined in the overwhelming rush of emotion that threatened to overtake him, and he opened the jar. He slathered a large quantity - too much really, but better too much than too little - onto one hand and returned his other to grasp the base of Harry's cock. He reached back and coated Harry's entrance with lube, then circled it with a finger.
Harry tensed and Draco released his cock. "It's okay, Harry," he said gently. "I won't hurt you."
"I know you won't," Harry said. He reached for Draco and drew him forward, meeting him part way in a kiss. Draco melted into it, bathed in the flood of emotion once more. God, they'd fucked so many times, but when Harry kissed him, Draco was truly lost.
Grudgingly, Draco drew back, kissing his way down Harry's torso, stopping to encircle one nipple with his tongue, then moved to the other, basking in Harry's undoing. Once again, he circled Harry's opening with his lube-slicked finger. When he pressed inside, Draco's mind went blank, save for the realisation that he was inside Harry. Slowly, gently, he stretched Harry until he was ready for another finger. Harry hissed at this second breach.
"You okay?" Draco asked.
"Mm."
By the time Harry was ready for a third finger, Draco was sweating and Harry was writhing, and it was all Draco could do not to go straight for his cock. "This will sting," he warned. At Harry's incredulous look, he amended, "More." Then he pressed his three fingers inside and Harry winced.
Draco moved gently, stretching and soothing, rubbing his free hand over Harry's tense stomach muscles. Harry's erection had flagged slightly, so Draco took it into his mouth once more. Harry's cock swelled as Draco expertly worked his lips and tongue along its length.
"Now," Harry gasped. "Want you now."
Draco didn't need asking twice, and released Harry's cock with a final swirl of his tongue. He slathered lube on his now aching prick and a bit more on Harry before lining up the head and pressing in as slowly as his crushing need allowed. Harry tensed and Draco reached for his hand.
"Relax, Harry."
"Does it hurt this much all the time?" he asked through clenched teeth.
Draco chuckled. "What do you think?"
Harry relaxed a fraction, then pried open his eyes to meet Draco's. "No."
"No, it doesn't. But the first time ... "
"Yeah."
"Just breathe," Draco said, using all his will to remain still. "Breathe and relax. It gets better." Harry looked at him dubiously. "Trust me."
Harry nodded. "Okay."
"Okay, okay?" Draco asked, trying to read Harry's face, to see if he was just being his usual Gryffindor self - brave but stupid - or if he was really ready.
"Yeah. Okay. Let's do this."
"Gee, you make it sound so wonderful." Draco couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He was, after all, making it as easy as he could.
"Just do it and get it over-- Fuck!"
Draco slid inside, gently but completely. "There," he said. "The worst is over."
"Bastard!"
"What?" Draco's voice conveyed complete innocence. "You said to do it, so I did."
Harry lay panting, his eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck."
Draco frowned. "I didn't really hurt you, did I?" he asked.
"No. I'm fine." Harry's shaky voice belied his words, but he looked up at Draco. "Just ... caught me by surprise." He shifted his hips a little. "Not so bad now."
Draco chanced some movement of his own, in small circles. "Okay if I move now?"
Harry gripped Draco's biceps. Hard. "Sure."
Draco shook with suppressed laughter and Harry glared at him. He leaned down and kissed Harry thoroughly. "Relax and enjoy," he said. That Harry was only half-hard again now hadn't escaped his notice.
Draco reached for Harry's cock and gave it a few tugs while he withdrew slowly, only a couple of inches. He pressed back in as he swiped his thumb over the leaking head. Harry's tense muscles relaxed slightly.
Sweat formed on Draco's upper lip as he fought for control, easing out and pressing back several times to establish a rhythm. He released Harry's cock, resting his hands either side of Harry's head, then captured Harry's lower lip tenderly between his teeth.
"Feels so good," he said. "So tight."
Harry attempted a smile which came out more as a grimace.
"Ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
Draco pulled nearly his whole length back, then thrust back in, still holding back, acutely aware of Harry's trepidation. He repeated the motion several times, dropping errant kisses on Harry's chest. Harry's grip lessened and he began to move in time with Draco's thrusts.
"More," Harry said. Draco obliged.
Several thrusts later, Harry tensed up once more and his back arched off the bed. "Holy shit!"
Draco laughed. "Like that?"
"Hell, yeah. Do that again."
Draco did. It was hit and miss, but he managed to connect with the bundle of nerves inside Harry several more times before Harry's grip became painful again. "Oh, God. I'm --" Harry's seed spilled between them and his channel gripped Draco's cock in spasms that, a few strokes later, brought Draco to climax. As Draco rocked through his orgasm, he looked down into Harry's eyes. Eyes that were once again green and gazing up at Draco in wonder.
Too much. Draco blinked and looked away as he slowed his movements until they both became still. He drew himself from Harry's body and fell onto the mattress beside him, breathing deeply.
When Harry's breathing slowed to the point that Draco thought he was asleep, he figured it was safe to look. On the rare occasion that Harry allowed himself to nod off, Draco liked to watch him sleep. His worry lines faded and he looked years younger, peaceful in slumber. Draco turned his head, only to find Harry watching him.
"What?" he asked, fighting the urge to look away from Harry's intense gaze.
Harry reached up and tucked some stray hair behind Draco's ear, then ran fingers over his cheek before cupping it in perhaps the single most intimate gesture they'd ever shared. Draco leaned into the touch without thinking.
"I can never get enough of you," Harry said. And he kissed Draco on the forehead.
Draco lay back once more, flinging his arm over his eyes in a show of nonchalance he didn't feel. This was all too much. Harry hadn't said the words, but ... well, Draco hadn't expected anything like that. Still. Perhaps this was their turning point. He allowed himself a moment to consider the possibility that they might make it after all, and he turned his head to face Harry.
"The feeling is entirely mutual," he said.
"Good," Harry announced with a smile and more energy than he had a right to. "Because you'd better be ready soon for round two."
Oh. Well then.
True to his word, Harry was ready to go a short time later, and no less enthusiastic for their earlier session. Though Draco noted that Harry was more gentle, more tender than he'd grown accustomed to. Which made things better and worse in equal measure. Better because, despite his fleeting wish that this could last, Draco knew, deep down, that this would be their last time together, and he could hold this memory with him. Worse, because he was afraid he might not have the strength to go through with his plan.
When Harry kissed him afterwards, Draco clung to him like he'd never let go. Because he never wanted to. But he knew he had to.
When, predictably, Harry rose to put on his clothes, Draco sighed. This was it, then. "Harry, why don't you stay? Just this once."
"I can't," he said, now searching for a stray sock and avoiding Draco's eyes.
"You're a grown man," Draco pointed out. Quite unnecessarily. "You can stay out all night."
"We've discussed this," Harry said. He found the sock and pulled it on. He frowned in Draco's direction, eyes devoid of emotion. "We agreed. No one can know."
"Yes, I know, but --"
"Nothing's changed," Harry said.
Nothing had changed. Draco had imagined it all. Logically, he knew he hadn't, but if Harry wanted to deny what was going on, then who was he to try to convince Harry otherwise. Besides, Harry was too stubborn to be convinced of anything anyway. It's not like this wasn't how Draco had expected this evening to end.
Draco swung the covers off and climbed out of the bed. He didn't look at Harry, didn't say anything, just gathered his clothes and put them on. Harry watched him but said nothing. When Draco was dressed he pulled out his wand. Harry reached for him, but he stepped back.
"I won't be your dirty little secret any more," he said. "See you around, Potter." And he Disapparated.
***
Several weeks passed and Draco threw himself into his work, both at the apothecary in Diagon Alley where he earned his living and built up his reputation, and at his home laboratory where he did research. Draco had been developing some potions to treat long-term memory loss, and several batches had now reached a critical stage.
For the first week, Harry had sent daily owls, all of which Draco returned, unopened. The second week he'd sent three, then this week one. It had been four days now. Draco took a deep breath, careful not to inhale the fumes from the nearby bubbling potion.
It was better this way. Draco had made the right decision, calling things off. He'd been hard-pressed to look himself in the mirror lately, and had decided, at great length, that he deserved better. Not better than Harry - Merlin knew Harry was ... He was Harry-fucking-Potter. And Draco lov--. No. He wouldn't go there. He knew that Harry was worth a hundred of him, but Draco still deserved better than to be hidden away, someone or something unworthy of recognition. Draco deserved someone who wasn't ashamed to be seen with him. Of course, with the name Malfoy, even years after the war, he was short of opportunities.
Giving the potions one last turn with his wand, he left them for the day and made his way upstairs to drink his tea and read the paper before heading to the shop.
His stomach lurched at the headline and he dropped his teacup.
Hero of the Wizarding World is Gay
Witches the world round are shedding tears as Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, Chosen One, Vanquisher of Voldemort, Saviour of the Wizarding World, revealed yesterday in an article in The Quibbler that he likes men.
Asked if there was anyone special in his life, Auror Potter said no. He just thought it was time to let the public know.
"Living in the shadows isn't much of a life," he explained.
For full interview, see Gay Hero, page 3.
What the ...?
Surely he hadn't -- This wasn't because of -- It couldn't be.
No. Draco scanned over the page once more. No one special, Harry had said. That spoke volumes, didn't it? But ... Draco hadn't answered his owls, and he had left. So technically there was no one. Not any more.
Did Draco dare to hope?
He resisted the urge to contact Harry and went to work, knowing it was his day to open the apothecary and that his boss didn't abide tardiness. By the time he left for lunch, he'd had his fill of muttered rumblings among the customers, Harry being the topic of choice.
Not wanting to arouse his mother's suspicion, he didn't Apparate home, but rather, used one of the local post owls to send Harry a letter.
Harry,
Have you gone mad? What have you done?
D
There was so much more to say, but not anything he should or would write in a letter. Having eaten nothing that morning, Draco picked up lunch at a local diner and returned to work.
He returned to the Manor that evening to find a special edition of The Prophet on the terrace table with his tea. Once more, Harry was all the rage: Potter and Old School Rival Seen Together
Draco felt ill. He was sure they'd been careful. No one could have seen them together, could they? The only way was if someone had peered through the window of some hotel. Knowing the press, that wasn't entirely out of the question. But Draco had told no one, and Harry ... he wouldn't have told anyone, would he? He hadn't told Granger and Weasley, or he could have stayed with Draco. Harry had been clear that he didn't want questions from them if he didn't come home at night, and they didn't seem any closer to leaving Grimmauld Place to move out on their own. So how did the press know? Draco looked back at the article with trepidation.
Potter and Old School Rival Seen Together
Harry Potter has been seen about town several times with former classmate Zacharias Smith. Sources tell us that the two had been rivals back at Hogwarts, but no one will confirm or deny rumours that they are a couple.
As was reported in the earlier edition today, Harry Potter has announced that he is gay. Though he denies any special relationship, one wonders why he would come out now if there weren't one.
Neither Mr Potter nor Mr Smith was available for comment.
See earlier edition for full interview with Mr Potter. See page 6 for details on sightings.
Draco balled up the paper, marched inside and threw it onto the fire. Fucking Zacharias Smith! What the fuck? Draco wasn't good enough, but now that fucking useless shit Smith was someone Harry would announce to the world? After three weeks?
His blood boiled and his hands shook as he watched the embers die. Harry must have been seeing Smith at the same time he was with Draco. That was the only explanation. There's no way such a short-lived fling, even if they started fucking the day Draco had left Harry in that hotel room, would be reason enough for Harry to tell the world.
Not for the first time, he regretted not having opened the letters Harry had sent. He wondered now what they might have said. So sorry, Draco, but I've been fucking Smith on the side. Thanks for making this easy for me. I think I'll be letting everyone know now. Ta, Harry.
"Argh!" Draco picked up the first thing he could reach - one of his mother's favourite vases - but before he could throw it, his mother's voice rang across the room and the vase floated over to her.
"Please tell me you were not about to throw this against the wall," she said calmly. Too calmly. Draco didn't care.
"What if I was?" he yelled.
She flicked her wand and a chair came sliding across the room, knocking the back of his legs and landing him in it. "You will not speak to me that way, young man."
Merlin, what was he thinking. "Of course not. Sorry, Mother."
"That's better." She called a house-elf to bring them some wine, and once the elf had returned with it, his mother handed Draco a glass and sat across from him.
"Now, what has you in such a state?"
"Nothing," he grumbled.
She said nothing, only stared.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with this afternoon's newspaper that you appear to have burned, would it?"
Bloody hell. How did she always know? "Perhaps."
"Are you bothered that Mr Potter appears to be getting so much attention again?"
"Not particularly," he lied.
She raised a brow.
"Okay, fine. Yes. The articles about Harry are --"
She raised a brow. "Harry is it now?"
Fuck. "Whatever."
"Do tell me, Draco darling, that you do not have a thing for the man."
He gave up. There would be no brushing her off, and certainly no lying to her. "Actually, we have - had - a thing for each other. But it obviously wasn't enough."
She scowled. Draco hated when his mother scowled: it reminded him of those days. "What do you mean, not enough?"
He sighed. "Must you know everything, Mother?"
"I only want to help."
"You can't help." She waited. "Fine. We had a thing. A private thing. A thing that no one was to know about." She scowled again. "Before you say anything, we'd both agreed that was best. Only, after a while, it wasn't. Not for me anyway. I told Harry that, but he didn't agree. I left. End of story."
"But it's not the end, is it?"
Draco took a far too large gulp of his wine, but he needed something to ease the pain. "No."
"And now Mr Potter is with someone else?"
"Yes."
"Someone he's willing to tell the world about?"
Fuck, but it hurt to hear someone say that out loud. "Yes."
"I see."
"It's fine. I ... I got out before ... "
"Oh, Draco." She put a hand on his and looked at him with pained eyes. "Don't you know you can't lie to me?"
He swigged back the last of the wine and placed the glass carefully on the table. "If you don't mind, Mother, I would like to retire to my rooms."
"Of course, darling. Shall I have dinner sent up to you?"
Draco nodded, thankful that she wouldn't make this awkward situation even worse. "Please."
"Sleep as best you can," she said. "And I'll see you at breakfast."
Ah. He was being granted a temporary reprieve only. He kissed her cheek. "I'll see you in the morning." At least his father wouldn't be a witness to this. Guilt took over as Draco realised he'd just been thankful his father was in prison. Not that he didn't deserve to be there, but ...
Draco spent a fitful hour scribbling messages to Harry, each one more pathetic than the one before. Some asked why. Some demanded an explanation. One simply said Smith, really?
He threw them all away, his mother's voice echoing in his head. When you are emotionally volatile, never send correspondence that could be traced back to you. Volatile. Oh, he was volatile all right.
Visions of Harry and Smith together kept infiltrating his thoughts, making Draco more ill as the night wore on. It wasn't just because Harry was with someone else, though Draco wasn't fool enough to deny that that would hurt no matter what. Not that he'd admit that to Harry or anyone else. But Smith? Smith? The bloke was a complete arse. Okay, he was good looking enough, but still. Smith?
When their house elf brought dinner, Draco was pleased to see a bottle of wine on the tray. Ignoring the food altogether, he poured himself a glass. And another. And another. Collapsing on the bed, the bottle empty and his senses numb, he knew but just didn't care how he'd feel come morning.
He awoke to a pounding headache, a roiling stomach, and a phial of hangover potion on his night table. Bless her. For all her interfering ways, his mother was good to him.
When he stepped onto the terrace for breakfast, however, he reconsidered his earlier assessment. There, sipping tea, were his mother and Harry.
"Potter, what the -- What are you doing here?"
Harry had the audacity to grin. "Your mother invited me."
"Mother," he growled. "A word?"
"Certainly." She dabbed her mouth unnecessarily with her napkin, then placed it on the table. "Mr Potter, if you'll excuse me for a moment."
"Call me Harry, please." Harry stood as Narcissa got up.
"Very well," she said. "Harry, we won't be but a moment. Do carry on, please."
Harry nodded and Draco spun round and stomped his way into the house. He made his way to the sitting room, the closest room to afford them privacy, not bothering to look back to be sure his mother followed. He stood, hands on the mantel, taking deep breaths that did nothing to calm him. When Draco heard the doors close, he cast a Muffliato and wheeled round on his mother.
"What in blazes do you think you're doing?"
"Why, I don't know what you mean, darling."
Sometimes - times such as these - Draco had visions. Visions that involved taking his mother by the shoulders and shaking her senseless. No, senseless wasn't the right word. What she was doing right now was senseless. He had visions of shaking sense into her.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why is Harry here?"
"You heard him." The picture of innocence, his mother was Slytherin to the core. "I invited him."
Draco clenched and unclenched his fists several times in an effort not to turn his vision into reality, however tempting. "Why did you invite him here?"
"So the two of you could talk, of course."
"Talk? The two of us? I don't believe there's anything for us to talk about without me completely humiliating myself." Draco's heart raced and his breathing was approaching hyperventilation stage. "Ask him to leave at once."
"No."
"Fine, then. I'll leave." He marched past his mother and reached for the door. At which point a Body Bind curse hit him in the back. Draco was so going to kill her for this later.
"Draco, I think you need to listen to what Mr -- to what Harry has to say. It is rather enlightening. You don't have to say a word in response. Just listen." She brushed imaginary lint from her robe as she approached him. "Now, you may go outside like a good host and listen to the man, and be polite, or I can invite him inside where you can sit, in your current state, and listen. It makes no difference to me, but you will hear him out."
Draco tried to scowl, attempted to throw daggers at his mother with his eyes, and desperately called upon his magic to release him, but nothing worked.
"Now, I will release you, at which time you will advise me which option you choose. Then I will leave you and Harry to chat, and you can do whatever you wish from then on. I assure you I will not interfere further. Well, for today anyway."
She removed his wand from its pocket, then released him.
He held out his hand, but she clutched his wand in her own. "Very well, Mother, I will go outside and listen to what he has to say. Then I will politely ask him to leave. Then I will go to work."
"Oh, I forgot to mention. I took the liberty of contacting your employer, advising him that there was a family emergency and you were called away. He looks forward to seeing you tomorrow and wishes us well."
"What?" The woman was infuriating. "I'm an adult, Mother! Adults don't have their mothers contacting their bosses."
She looked genuinely confused. "But of course they do. All the pureblood families do. Until a son is wed, his mother is often the conduit. Oh, never mind that." She handed him his wand and waved him off. "Go talk to Harry, and do apologise for me for abandoning him."
Draco rolled his eyes and walked back out onto the terrace.
"I cannot believe her!" he ranted, mindless of the fact that he was supposed to be angry with Harry. "Do you know what she did? She contacted my boss to tell him I wouldn't be in today. My boss!" He threw his hands up in exasperation.
Harry laughed. "She just wants what's best for you, you know."
Draco gaped at him. Oh, no. This was not on. He sat next to Harry. "What the fuck do you want anyway?" he asked, ignoring his mother's direction to be polite.
"Now, do you think your mother would appreciate you speaking to a guest like that?" he teased.
"Get on with it."
Harry's shoulders shook for a few moments and Draco glared at him. Eventually, he settled and was able to maintain a modicum of restraint.
"Well?" Draco's patience, never his strong suit, dwindled.
"I got your owl," he said.
Oh, God, had he sent drunken owl post last night? He thought about how pathetic he sounded, how desperate in those notes he'd scribbled. Then he shook that off when he remembered. He'd sent one from Diagon Alley. "That was before the article about Smith."
Harry cringed. "About that."
Draco forestalled him with a raised hand. "No need. You've moved on. Rather fast, it would seem, but whatever. You made your decision. No need to belabour the point."
Draco was quite proud he'd got that out without his voice quavering or his face flushing. His hands seemed steady as well. He wondered briefly if his mother had added a hint of Calming Draught to the Hangover Potion.
"I'm investigating Smith," Harry said.
Draco snorted. "Is that what you're calling it?"
Harry frowned. "This isn't funny, Draco."
"No," Draco agreed. "It's not."
"He's under investigation for ... well, I can't say, actually. But I'm not involved with him, and - Ew! - What would make you believe that anyway?"
"I don't know, Harry, let's see. We were together for months, and not once did you tell anyone, did you? I tell you I want you to stay with me, just one night, and you refuse. I leave, and weeks later you come out to the world. The next day it's reported you've been seen in the company of another man, repeatedly. What was I supposed to think?"
"But Smith?"
Draco shuddered. "Yes, well, the thought rather sickened me, if I'm to be honest."
Harry grinned briefly before his features hardened once more. "This is the reason I didn't want to say anything. I knew that once I did, the press would hound me, follow me, try to dig up something on me."
"Yes, yes, and we all know what horrible dirt it would be for you to be associated with me." Even coming from his own mouth, the words stung. It was true. He'd known it to be true all along, but ... At first it had been all about the rush, the passion, the thrill, but somewhere along the way, Draco had begun to care. He'd let down those walls he'd spent years building up, and as soon as he'd let Harry in, he'd been crushed.
Harry reached across the table for his hands, but Draco drew back. "Don't."
"Is that what you think?" he asked. "That I would be ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with you?"
Draco rolled his eyes. Surely Harry didn't think him so gullible. "Oh, please don't pretend it's not true."
This time Harry did grab Draco's hands, and no struggling helped free them. "Draco, look at me."
Draco glared, trying desperately to keep the pain from showing.
"I didn't want you to be subjected to all this. The press, they're vultures. They would swoop down on you and dig up all the dirt they possibly could and drag your name through the mud. They would dredge up everything - and I mean everything - and then make up a bunch more. They would reverse, in one article, all the good you've done since the war. I couldn't stand to see that happen to you."
Draco pulled his hands back, and Harry released them. It made sense. Harry was always selfless like that. Stupid Gryffindor. And Draco had been sure there was more, in his eyes, his touch, in everything that last night. But Draco just couldn't get past the fact that Harry told no one. Not even Weasley and Granger.
"Don't you know how I feel about you?" Harry asked.
Draco thought he had, but then convinced himself it had all been wishful thinking. Ridiculous notions of a foolish man. He shrugged. "You never said."
"Seriously?" Harry laughed. "We're blokes. We don't talk about our feelings. Isn't that the beauty of not being involved with women?"
Draco raised a brow. "I hardly think that's the best part."
Harry laughed again, and Draco liked the sound of it. He'd missed that. "No, I suppose you're right. But it is a bonus."
Draco waved his hand about. "I don't want to have long discussions as we walk hand-in-hand along the beach at sunset, Harry. I just ... well, I'd like to know where I stand. That's all. It wouldn't hurt to hear once in a while."
"Remember that last night together, when I said I can't get enough of you?"
"Yes."
"I meant that." Once again, he took Draco's hands in his. "I don't want to sneak around, see you for a few hours at a time, then slink away like there's something wrong with what we're doing. But I don't want anyone to hurt you."
"I'm a grown man, Potter."
"I know you are, but --"
"Why didn't you tell Granger and Weasley?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"No, I'm quite serious."
Harry ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end. Draco smiled despite himself. He'd missed so many things in the past few weeks. Who'd have thought he'd miss that?
"I couldn't tell Ron, because he'd tell Hermione. And Hermione would have been all over me about gay rights, and how I could make a difference, and how I could be a role model for today's youth, and ... well, you get the idea."
Draco thought about Granger and her stupid elf rights and knew Harry was right. "What, don't you want to be the poster boy for yet another cause? I know how much you love the limelight."
"Fuck off."
Draco smiled. "So now what?"
"Now I arrest Smith."
"Already?"
Harry grinned. "It appears your mother has some connections, and some evidence made its way to my office."
"Mother?"
Harry raised a hand. "I didn't ask and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know. All I know is that she sent me an owl asking if I was aware that the man I was involved with had shady dealings going on."
"Shady dealings?"
Harry shrugged. "Her words, not mine. Anyway, suffice it to say, I acknowledged that, in fact, I was aware of rumours about Smith's involvement in certain unsavoury adventures - my words, not hers - and I made perfectly clear that I was not, nor had I ever been, nor would I, Merlin forbid, ever be involved with the likes of someone like Zacharias Smith." He paused to grin at Draco. "Next thing I know, a package containing evidence against him arrived at my office, and an invitation to breakfast at the Manor followed. And here I am."
"So you are." Draco tried to process everything, but it was all a bit much. He stood up, walked to the edge of the terrace and stared out at the gardens, recalling the carefree days he's spent playing out here as a child. "Everything's changed, Harry."
"Nothing's changed," Harry said. Draco heard his footsteps and felt the warmth of his body as he stood behind Draco and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist. Harry rubbed his nose along Draco's neck before whispering in his ear, "Nothing important anyway." He placed a soft kiss where neck met shoulder and Draco shivered.
"It was important three weeks ago."
"I hadn't lost you three weeks ago," Harry replied. "Nothing's more important than that."
"You never lost me, Harry." Draco turned around and placed his hands on either side of Harry's face. He looked into those green eyes that he'd missed so much and placed the softest of kisses on his lips. "I can't seem to forget about you, no matter what I do."
Harry smiled. "It was only three weeks."
Draco shrugged. "Felt like a lifetime."
"You sure about this?" Harry asked.
Draco nodded. "I want all of you," he said. "Even the press."
Harry winked. "You always did like the attention."
Draco thought momentarily about Granger and how relentless she could be. He scowled. "We will not be poster boys for gay rights."
Harry shook his head. "No. But you can break that news to Hermione."
"Done, provided you advise the press that I don't have you under Imperius."
"Done."
"And I," Narcissa said, waltzing onto the terrace as though she'd been part of the conversation all along, "will ensure that no one besmirches our name."
Draco looked at Harry whose eyes had widened. "Don't ask."
Harry shook his head. "I wouldn't dream of it."
~ FIN ~