Christmas 2016 Fic: Reset (H/D, rated R) - Part 6
Title: Reset - Part 6
Author: sesheta_66
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R overall
Word Count: ~20K overall
Summary: Forgetting the past isn't always possible or practical. Dwelling on it isn't constructive. Moving beyond it, into what lies ahead, can be just the thing to help us heal. And friends? Well, they make it all - past, present and future - worth living.
Author's Notes: Written for dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, prompt #8: first Christmas after the war, #16: Christmas tree, and #18: Hogwarts at Christmas and slythindor100's 25 Days of Draco and Harry, prompt #9: sleeping Gryffindor (see delicious picture below) and #10: table with food and wine in front of a fire.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |
Reset - Part 6
Harry stood outside the Great Hall the next morning, looking at the twelve trees that meant Christmas at Hogwarts, remembering the first time he'd seen Hagrid's work. Even though it was the first Christmas after the war, and so many things had changed, he still felt a bit like that little boy so long ago, awed by it all.
His reverie was broken by a deep sigh to his left. Draco had approached without him noticing, and now stood staring into the Great Hall, but seemed miles away, confusion written all over his face.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, taking in the tense line of Draco's shoulders.
"What was I thinking?"
Harry frowned. "About what?"
"Inviting everyone to the Manor to play Quidditch."
Harry shrugged. "Maybe that it might be nice to play a game?"
"Well, obviously." Draco scowled. "But my family doesn't do that. I've never invited a bunch of people to my house before. Ever."
Harry opted not to point out that Lucius had invited all the Death Eaters over to play. He didn't think his humour would resonate. Plus that hadn't really worked out very well for the Malfoys, had it? "So what?"
Draco stepped aside to let a few people get past before replying. "So what? So what?! My mother will kill me!"
Harry laughed. "I sincerely doubt, after the war, after risking her own life to get to you, to make sure you were safe, that she would decide now to kill you."
"Shut up. You know what I mean."
"Do you really think she'll be upset?" He rather thought she might be pleased that Draco was making friends. Even if a fair few of them were Gryffindors.
Draco considered that for a long while. "I don't really know."
"So ask her. Maybe go home this weekend and broach the topic with her. The worst thing she can do is say no." Draco relaxed a bit. "And you don't even have to tell her you already invited people. Just say you're thinking about it."
He nodded. "You have to come with me, though."
That caught Harry off-guard. "Me? Why?"
"Mother loves you."
Harry sniggered but before Draco could take that the wrong way he added, "Well, what's not to love?"
An eyeroll and a shove in the shoulder were the response. "You can convince her."
Harry was doubtful. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"
"I'm sure you'll think of something."
Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "How exactly do you figure this is my responsibility?"
"It's not, strictly speaking, but it is your fault."
"Come again?"
He smirked. "You're the one who insisted that I go to the party. Then you dragged me into conversations. And, last but not least, you're the one that neglected to keep me from drinking so much that I invited the whole damn school to the manor."
Harry laughed. "Okay, I'll give you the first two, but that last one's your own fault. I warned you about Seamus and I'm not your keeper."
Harry very nearly heard the wheels spinning in Draco's head. "Did my mother not ask you to watch out for me?"
Harry hesitated, narrowing his eyes. "Yes, but -"
"And did you not agree?"
"Yes, but -"
"And are you now reneging on that?"
Fucking Slytherin. "I did not agree to save you from yourself."
"Nevertheless, your word is your word, Golden Boy."
Harry snorted. "Okay, I'll do it." Draco beamed. "On one condition."
He raised a brow warily. "What's that?"
"You show me the pitch. One-on-one, the two of us."
"Slytherin-Gryffindor rematch?"
"If you wish."
Draco nodded. "Done. Bring on your best game."
Harry replayed some highlights of his games over the years. The best ones were always against Slytherin, and Draco in particular. In fact, it had been far too long. He smiled widely. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
That resolved, they entered the hall. As an afterthought, Harry said, "Just so you know, you didn't manipulate me into anything. I just wouldn't mind seeing the pitch myself."
Draco smiled wickedly. "If you say so."
***
Saturday morning after breakfast, Harry took extra care getting ready. He managed to don Gryffindor everything for today's Seekers game against Malfoy, including gloves and hat and jacket and, well, just about everything. Just for the fun of it.
He'd tried to convince Draco that he'd meet him at the Manor, but Draco was having none of that. He'd insisted that his mother would give him the second degree the moment he walked into the place, because he was never very good at hiding anything from her, and he was feeling rather nervous about the whole thing. Oh, yes, and it was Harry's fault he was in this mess to begin with.
Truth was, Harry didn't mind. Narcissa had been perfectly lovely to him the last time and he had no reason to think she'd be any less gracious a hostess this time.
He packed a change of clothing in his rucksack, figuring it was one thing to taunt Draco on the pitch but quite another to flaunt his house affiliations while sitting down to lunch with Narcissa, and said a quick goodbye to Ron and Hermione.
Ron watched his progress with longing in his eyes. "You'll let us know how the pitch is, yeah?"
"Of course."
***
Two hours later, he and Draco were neck-and-neck, again, chasing after the elusive gold ball. Wind whipping through his hair and Draco flying mere inches away, Harry hadn't felt this alive, this free, in a long time. Gods, how he missed this. Draco had always been his equal on a broom and had always brought out the competitive nature in him like no one else.
The snitch had evaded their grasps several times now, but it seemed one of them was finally destined to catch it. Shoving into each other, flying faster than was probably wise, they both kept their eyes on the ball, chasing it this way and that, never more than a foot between them. Harry could hear Draco's breathing quicken, no doubt his adrenaline pumping through him the same as Harry's.
"Scared, Malfoy?"
He chuckled. "You wish."
And they both dived for it, each reaching that little bit too far, uncaring that the inevitable collision would knock them both off their brooms and tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
When they finally rolled to a stop, Draco was splayed on top of Harry, a huge grin on his face. "Yes!"
"Shit."
"Oh, yes, Potter. Take a good, long look before you break down in tears."
Harry did look. He saw Draco happier than he thought he'd ever seen him before, grey eyes sparkling in the sunlight, cheeks flushed from exertion, and the biggest smile that lit up all his features.
"No tears," Harry said. "You won, fair and square."
"You got that right."
Draco hadn't moved, except to squirm in triumph. Harry was suddenly acutely aware of their bodies pressed together, and the heat generated between them. His heart was racing, though he wasn't sure whether it was from the game or something else.
Draco looked down at him then and seemed to register the same thing. His eyes darkened and his expression changed, only for a moment, but before Harry could interpret what it meant, it was gone and Draco jumped up, offering Harry a hand. Harry took it and allowed Draco to pull him to his feet.
"I'm going to have a shower before lunch," Draco announced on their way back to the house. "You're welcome to do the same."
Harry looked at his grass and dirt-covered trousers and nodded. "That would be great." He could also use a bit of time to himself to process his unexpected reaction.
***
Draco had claimed the bathroom first, eager to wash away the sweat of the game and try to reel in his body's reaction to Harry. Once he'd registered their somewhat compromising position on the pitch, his brain had been quick to voice its approval. Before his body could do the same - in a rather embarrassing and obvious way - he'd jumped back and hauled Harry to his feet. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the friendship he'd wanted for years.
After taking a slightly cooler than usual shower, Draco grabbed an extra towel and robe and placed them on the counter in the bathroom before making his way back into his room, towelling off his hair in the process.
"Shower's all yours," he said. Then stopped dead. His eyes froze on the form in front of him, transfixed by … well.
Harry lay there, fast asleep, on Draco's bed, looking positively edible.
Draco couldn't breathe, couldn't look away, couldn't move. His hands shook as he soaked up the sight of the Gryffindor sweater pulled up high over Harry's abdomen, revealing a chiseled midsection.
When the fuck had that happened?
Draco's mouth began to water and he only just resisted the urge to run over to Harry and lick those abs.
And that light trail of hair leading down into … were those Gryffindor boxers? Merlin, Draco had to hold himself up now.
He willed himself to take a deep breath. In … out … in … out. He could do this. The last thing he wanted to do was fuck up this tentative thing they had going.
He quickly grabbed some clothes, dressed in the bathroom and ran down to the sitting room where his mother waited. He'd let Harry sleep. He obviously needed it. Besides, Draco couldn't trust himself to get too close right now.
***
When he entered the room, Narcissa was nowhere to be found. The table was set in front of the fire today - his mother's favourite spot when not looking out over the gardens. Probably best. His mother did like to go on about Draco when he'd been a boy. He didn't know how many more stories of him playing outside in the gardens he - or Harry - could take. If he hadn't been so angry, he'd have been mortified the last time. Then again, Harry hadn't seemed to mind. In fact, he'd looked bemused. He'd grinned and nodded, as though he'd really been interested, as she'd regaled him with story after story.
"Where's Harry?"
Draco jumped. His mother had entered the room silently - or his mind had been somewhere else, quite possibly on a near-naked Gryffindor lying on his bed upstairs - and he simply hadn't heard her approach. He took a few breaths to calm his nerves.
"He fell asleep while I was in the shower, so I thought I'd leave him to it for a while."
"We'll be eating shortly. Perhaps I should get Lealia to fetch him."
"No!" Draco pictured the elf walking in on Harry in his current state, and was having none of that. "It's okay. I'll go." He scrambled around for an excuse. "I need to get something from my room anyway."
She eyed him warily but didn't argue. He walked slowly from the room, but once in the entrance hall, he ran up the stairs.
After steeling himself, he reached for the handle and opened the door to his room. Harry lay there, fast asleep, in the same spot he'd left him earlier. Willing his body not to react - his heart was hammering in his chest so loudly he was convinced his mother could hear from downstairs - he approached the bed. He reached out a shaky hand to nudge Harry's shoulder. When he dropped his one arm to his side but otherwise didn't react, Draco placed his hands on both shoulders and shook lightly.
"Harry, wake up."
Harry mumbled something under his breath and he turned his head, but stubbornly remained asleep.
Draco shook his shoulders harder and leaned in closer. "Wake up, Harry."
Harry's eyes opened and he blinked a few times, shaking his head back and forth as he tried to focus. "Hey," he said with a gravelly voice.
Draco smiled. "Hey, yourself."
What occurred next Draco would later swear happened in slow motion.
Harry reached up with his hand, ran it through Draco's hair and brought it to rest on the back of Draco's neck. Draco sucked in a breath, not quite sure what was happening, not daring to hope. Then Harry smiled - a smile that tugged at Draco's heart and threatened to never let go - and drew him in for a kiss.
Part 7
Author: sesheta_66
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R overall
Word Count: ~20K overall
Summary: Forgetting the past isn't always possible or practical. Dwelling on it isn't constructive. Moving beyond it, into what lies ahead, can be just the thing to help us heal. And friends? Well, they make it all - past, present and future - worth living.
Author's Notes: Written for dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, prompt #8: first Christmas after the war, #16: Christmas tree, and #18: Hogwarts at Christmas and slythindor100's 25 Days of Draco and Harry, prompt #9: sleeping Gryffindor (see delicious picture below) and #10: table with food and wine in front of a fire.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |
Reset - Part 6
Harry stood outside the Great Hall the next morning, looking at the twelve trees that meant Christmas at Hogwarts, remembering the first time he'd seen Hagrid's work. Even though it was the first Christmas after the war, and so many things had changed, he still felt a bit like that little boy so long ago, awed by it all.
His reverie was broken by a deep sigh to his left. Draco had approached without him noticing, and now stood staring into the Great Hall, but seemed miles away, confusion written all over his face.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, taking in the tense line of Draco's shoulders.
"What was I thinking?"
Harry frowned. "About what?"
"Inviting everyone to the Manor to play Quidditch."
Harry shrugged. "Maybe that it might be nice to play a game?"
"Well, obviously." Draco scowled. "But my family doesn't do that. I've never invited a bunch of people to my house before. Ever."
Harry opted not to point out that Lucius had invited all the Death Eaters over to play. He didn't think his humour would resonate. Plus that hadn't really worked out very well for the Malfoys, had it? "So what?"
Draco stepped aside to let a few people get past before replying. "So what? So what?! My mother will kill me!"
Harry laughed. "I sincerely doubt, after the war, after risking her own life to get to you, to make sure you were safe, that she would decide now to kill you."
"Shut up. You know what I mean."
"Do you really think she'll be upset?" He rather thought she might be pleased that Draco was making friends. Even if a fair few of them were Gryffindors.
Draco considered that for a long while. "I don't really know."
"So ask her. Maybe go home this weekend and broach the topic with her. The worst thing she can do is say no." Draco relaxed a bit. "And you don't even have to tell her you already invited people. Just say you're thinking about it."
He nodded. "You have to come with me, though."
That caught Harry off-guard. "Me? Why?"
"Mother loves you."
Harry sniggered but before Draco could take that the wrong way he added, "Well, what's not to love?"
An eyeroll and a shove in the shoulder were the response. "You can convince her."
Harry was doubtful. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"
"I'm sure you'll think of something."
Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "How exactly do you figure this is my responsibility?"
"It's not, strictly speaking, but it is your fault."
"Come again?"
He smirked. "You're the one who insisted that I go to the party. Then you dragged me into conversations. And, last but not least, you're the one that neglected to keep me from drinking so much that I invited the whole damn school to the manor."
Harry laughed. "Okay, I'll give you the first two, but that last one's your own fault. I warned you about Seamus and I'm not your keeper."
Harry very nearly heard the wheels spinning in Draco's head. "Did my mother not ask you to watch out for me?"
Harry hesitated, narrowing his eyes. "Yes, but -"
"And did you not agree?"
"Yes, but -"
"And are you now reneging on that?"
Fucking Slytherin. "I did not agree to save you from yourself."
"Nevertheless, your word is your word, Golden Boy."
Harry snorted. "Okay, I'll do it." Draco beamed. "On one condition."
He raised a brow warily. "What's that?"
"You show me the pitch. One-on-one, the two of us."
"Slytherin-Gryffindor rematch?"
"If you wish."
Draco nodded. "Done. Bring on your best game."
Harry replayed some highlights of his games over the years. The best ones were always against Slytherin, and Draco in particular. In fact, it had been far too long. He smiled widely. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
That resolved, they entered the hall. As an afterthought, Harry said, "Just so you know, you didn't manipulate me into anything. I just wouldn't mind seeing the pitch myself."
Draco smiled wickedly. "If you say so."
***
Saturday morning after breakfast, Harry took extra care getting ready. He managed to don Gryffindor everything for today's Seekers game against Malfoy, including gloves and hat and jacket and, well, just about everything. Just for the fun of it.
He'd tried to convince Draco that he'd meet him at the Manor, but Draco was having none of that. He'd insisted that his mother would give him the second degree the moment he walked into the place, because he was never very good at hiding anything from her, and he was feeling rather nervous about the whole thing. Oh, yes, and it was Harry's fault he was in this mess to begin with.
Truth was, Harry didn't mind. Narcissa had been perfectly lovely to him the last time and he had no reason to think she'd be any less gracious a hostess this time.
He packed a change of clothing in his rucksack, figuring it was one thing to taunt Draco on the pitch but quite another to flaunt his house affiliations while sitting down to lunch with Narcissa, and said a quick goodbye to Ron and Hermione.
Ron watched his progress with longing in his eyes. "You'll let us know how the pitch is, yeah?"
"Of course."
***
Two hours later, he and Draco were neck-and-neck, again, chasing after the elusive gold ball. Wind whipping through his hair and Draco flying mere inches away, Harry hadn't felt this alive, this free, in a long time. Gods, how he missed this. Draco had always been his equal on a broom and had always brought out the competitive nature in him like no one else.
The snitch had evaded their grasps several times now, but it seemed one of them was finally destined to catch it. Shoving into each other, flying faster than was probably wise, they both kept their eyes on the ball, chasing it this way and that, never more than a foot between them. Harry could hear Draco's breathing quicken, no doubt his adrenaline pumping through him the same as Harry's.
"Scared, Malfoy?"
He chuckled. "You wish."
And they both dived for it, each reaching that little bit too far, uncaring that the inevitable collision would knock them both off their brooms and tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
When they finally rolled to a stop, Draco was splayed on top of Harry, a huge grin on his face. "Yes!"
"Shit."
"Oh, yes, Potter. Take a good, long look before you break down in tears."
Harry did look. He saw Draco happier than he thought he'd ever seen him before, grey eyes sparkling in the sunlight, cheeks flushed from exertion, and the biggest smile that lit up all his features.
"No tears," Harry said. "You won, fair and square."
"You got that right."
Draco hadn't moved, except to squirm in triumph. Harry was suddenly acutely aware of their bodies pressed together, and the heat generated between them. His heart was racing, though he wasn't sure whether it was from the game or something else.
Draco looked down at him then and seemed to register the same thing. His eyes darkened and his expression changed, only for a moment, but before Harry could interpret what it meant, it was gone and Draco jumped up, offering Harry a hand. Harry took it and allowed Draco to pull him to his feet.
"I'm going to have a shower before lunch," Draco announced on their way back to the house. "You're welcome to do the same."
Harry looked at his grass and dirt-covered trousers and nodded. "That would be great." He could also use a bit of time to himself to process his unexpected reaction.
***
Draco had claimed the bathroom first, eager to wash away the sweat of the game and try to reel in his body's reaction to Harry. Once he'd registered their somewhat compromising position on the pitch, his brain had been quick to voice its approval. Before his body could do the same - in a rather embarrassing and obvious way - he'd jumped back and hauled Harry to his feet. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the friendship he'd wanted for years.
After taking a slightly cooler than usual shower, Draco grabbed an extra towel and robe and placed them on the counter in the bathroom before making his way back into his room, towelling off his hair in the process.
"Shower's all yours," he said. Then stopped dead. His eyes froze on the form in front of him, transfixed by … well.
Harry lay there, fast asleep, on Draco's bed, looking positively edible.
Draco couldn't breathe, couldn't look away, couldn't move. His hands shook as he soaked up the sight of the Gryffindor sweater pulled up high over Harry's abdomen, revealing a chiseled midsection.
When the fuck had that happened?
Draco's mouth began to water and he only just resisted the urge to run over to Harry and lick those abs.
And that light trail of hair leading down into … were those Gryffindor boxers? Merlin, Draco had to hold himself up now.
He willed himself to take a deep breath. In … out … in … out. He could do this. The last thing he wanted to do was fuck up this tentative thing they had going.
He quickly grabbed some clothes, dressed in the bathroom and ran down to the sitting room where his mother waited. He'd let Harry sleep. He obviously needed it. Besides, Draco couldn't trust himself to get too close right now.
***
When he entered the room, Narcissa was nowhere to be found. The table was set in front of the fire today - his mother's favourite spot when not looking out over the gardens. Probably best. His mother did like to go on about Draco when he'd been a boy. He didn't know how many more stories of him playing outside in the gardens he - or Harry - could take. If he hadn't been so angry, he'd have been mortified the last time. Then again, Harry hadn't seemed to mind. In fact, he'd looked bemused. He'd grinned and nodded, as though he'd really been interested, as she'd regaled him with story after story.
"Where's Harry?"
Draco jumped. His mother had entered the room silently - or his mind had been somewhere else, quite possibly on a near-naked Gryffindor lying on his bed upstairs - and he simply hadn't heard her approach. He took a few breaths to calm his nerves.
"He fell asleep while I was in the shower, so I thought I'd leave him to it for a while."
"We'll be eating shortly. Perhaps I should get Lealia to fetch him."
"No!" Draco pictured the elf walking in on Harry in his current state, and was having none of that. "It's okay. I'll go." He scrambled around for an excuse. "I need to get something from my room anyway."
She eyed him warily but didn't argue. He walked slowly from the room, but once in the entrance hall, he ran up the stairs.
After steeling himself, he reached for the handle and opened the door to his room. Harry lay there, fast asleep, in the same spot he'd left him earlier. Willing his body not to react - his heart was hammering in his chest so loudly he was convinced his mother could hear from downstairs - he approached the bed. He reached out a shaky hand to nudge Harry's shoulder. When he dropped his one arm to his side but otherwise didn't react, Draco placed his hands on both shoulders and shook lightly.
"Harry, wake up."
Harry mumbled something under his breath and he turned his head, but stubbornly remained asleep.
Draco shook his shoulders harder and leaned in closer. "Wake up, Harry."
Harry's eyes opened and he blinked a few times, shaking his head back and forth as he tried to focus. "Hey," he said with a gravelly voice.
Draco smiled. "Hey, yourself."
What occurred next Draco would later swear happened in slow motion.
Harry reached up with his hand, ran it through Draco's hair and brought it to rest on the back of Draco's neck. Draco sucked in a breath, not quite sure what was happening, not daring to hope. Then Harry smiled - a smile that tugged at Draco's heart and threatened to never let go - and drew him in for a kiss.
Part 7