Part 2
One week later...
Andromeda was in the study when she heard the first splinter of breaking glass. She cocked her head curiously. Lady Druella's prized crystal vase, perhaps? Excellent, she had always hated that abomination. There was an earth shattering crash as something heavy hurtled down the stairs. She sincerely hoped it was her sainted Mother's armoire. Why Cissa had ever kept that horrendous thing around, she would never know.
At least Draco had impeccable taste. He always destroyed the ugliest pieces first.
The next sounds that followed from the West Wing were shouts of pure, unadulterated rage mingled with various threats and promises of a slow, unimaginable death. Merlin, she hoped Lucius had a good Shielding Charm handy...
Then again, considering what he'd done this morning, she was rather certain he deserved everything that was coming to him.
She mentally wished both the Malfoy men her very best and blithely resumed reading the Prophet.
****
Blaise was in the kitchen, nicking a sandwich from Tibby - his favourite Malfoy elf - when he heard the crash. He jumped and promptly dropped it. Tibby wheezed in apparent displeasure and Vanished the mess, setting about making him another one sandwich once.
The commotion was promptly followed up by what sounded like a dragon stepping on a hot coal. In the midst of the shouts and the death threats, Blaise could just about make out Lucius' placating tone.
"What the hell is going on up there?" he demanded.
Tibby merely sniffed and handed him the Prophet. Blaise scanned the headlines intently. By the time he was finished, he was torn between laughing... and rolling on the floor laughing until he burst a seam.
Much to Tibby's displeasure, he chose the latter. The sandwich lay forgotten on the counter.
****
Harry was in Malfoy Manor, skulking about the Grand Staircase when he heard an almighty crash. The next second, he yelped and jumped out of the way; just narrowly missing being crushed to death by an eighteenth century mahogany armoire that had been hurled down said staircase.
"Well then, guess he's seen the Prophet," he murmured to himself.
To be fair, when Lucius had sent him an owl with the Manor's Apparition coordinates he'd been taken by surprise as well. He had half suspected that the man had dropped his ridiculous ploy altogether (and no, he did not feel a smidge of disappointment at the thought, thank you very much). Then, he had seen the Prophet and... yeah. Well, never let it be said that Malfoys do anything by half.
Draco Malfoy, for example was going to viciously murder all of them by the time this was over. Harry's only consolation was that he was going to go for his father first.
Oh well. Nothing he hadn't seen before.
He shrugged, took a few, fair steps away from the Staircase of Pain and Death and waited - to meet his new fiancé or cart Lucius' mangled remains over to Saint Mungos, he wasn't quite sure which yet.
Either way, it promised to be fun. With a grin, he sauntered up the staircase.
****
Lucius Malfoy was trying to avoid having his entrails served to him on a cold platter at the time of the aforementioned crash. He watched the armoire hurtle down the stairs with a detached sort of fascination. Say what you will about Draco - the boy had flair. Once again, he tried to reason with his furious and dangerously vindictive offspring.
"This is entirely uncalled for, Draco," he drawled, dusting some fallen plaster off his robes. "I am fairly certain that Malfoy decorum frowns upon trying to murder one's sire."
"Oh I'm not going to murder you, Father," Draco hissed. "At least not until I've personally tortured you to my utter and complete satisfaction."
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps it's a good thing you never joined the Death Eaters," he smirked. "You would have outranked us all in a year or two."
Draco snarled and pointed his wand at an old tapestry which obliged by bursting into shreds. Then he turned on his father again. "You think this is funny?" he demanded. "You dare to... you have the absolute nerve to make jokes right now?!"
"Calm down, son."
That was in hindsight, the wrong thing to say. Draco nearly imploded. "I will not calm down!" he howled, wielding a copy of the Prophet. "I will not calm down or listen to reason or any such stupid sodding thing until you explain this shite!" He ripped through the unfortunate Prophet, scanning the headlines for the announcement Lucius had personally sent to the Editor last night.
"Malfoy heir chooses Mystery Suitor," Draco spat, reading out loud from the page. "It appears that the wait is finally over. In a surprising turn of events, Lucius Malfoy has announced that his son and heir to the Malfoy fortune, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, has finally - we repeat, finally - chosen a worthy suitor. The identity of Malfoy's Mystery Lover has not been revealed yet, resulting in wide scale speculations. "Could be that bass player from the Weird Sisters," said Astoria Greengrass, a close personal friend of the Malfoys. "Assuming of course that they took care of that pecker shrinking hex Draco used on him last year." Lucius Malfoy did not comment, stating only that his son had 'chosen well and had done the family name proud.' The younger Malfoy who is publicly known for leaving strings of broken hearts (and limbs) in his wake was unavailable for comment, immediately sparking rumours of elopement. Lucius Malfoy went on to put these rumours to rest, citing that the young couple merely wished for some privacy before making their courtship public (a Prophet exclusive, coming soon!). This reporter speculates a story like never before. Just who is the mysterious stranger who snagged the heart of our resident Ice Prince? Do you have a lucky guess? Write in to the Prophet at..."
"Yes, yes I read that tripe, no need to repeat it," Lucius drawled. "That Skeeter wench really likes to milk it, doesn't she?"
Draco was reaching new and previously unseen levels of apoplectic. "You're on thin fucking ice!" he bellowed. "You have exactly ten seconds to explain what the hell this is all about before I... I..." His eyes darted around the room wildly, landing on an ancient fourteenth century, two thousand page manuscript that had been in the family for generations.
"Honestly," Lucius sighed, deflecting the book easily as it made a beeline for his frontal cortex. "You're just like your mother."
"Mother wouldn't have fed you your own intestines," Draco sneered. "Which is precisely what I'm going to do if you don't tell me the name of the sorry bastard you're trying to shove down my throat this time!"
"Ah, of course. I imagine you're eager to meet your fiancé."
"I don't have a fiancé!" Draco snarled. "What I have is a Father who doesn't know when to quit and a potential murder trial!" His eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at his unimpressed, and somewhat amused sire. "And Merlin as my witness, when I'm done with you, I'm going after the poor sod you dragged into your crazy scheme and I'm going to make him suffer!"
"How delightful," Lucius smirked. "By happy coincidence, he's downstairs waiting for you. I'll tell him where to find you, shall I?" He turned on his heel and exited, ignoring Draco's howl of outrage. A belated thought crossed his mind and he turned back to face his simmering son. "Oh and if I haven't said it already, Draco... congratulations."
He barely made it out the door before the vase shattered inches from where his head had been a second ago.
Potter was outside, leaning languidly against a wall as he eavesdropped blatantly. He smirked at Lucius as the older man straightened his robes. "Problem?" he enquired dryly.
Lucius smirked back. "Your problem," he drawled. "Good luck, young man."
He allowed himself a chuckle as he turned and left, his footsteps echoing across the hall.
****
Bastard, Harry mused with a twinge of amusement as he watched Lucius saunter off. And that was the least of his problems. Momentarily, he reflected on what was waiting for him on the other side of that door.
Malfoy was obviously pacing, practically ricocheting of the walls if his frantic footsteps were anything to go by. And he was snarling something about... Harry frowned and pressed his ear to the door... feed him his own what? Harry chuckled.
Well, no sense in delaying the inevitable.
Besides, he knew what he was getting into. Malfoy didn't. He had the distinct advantage of the element of surprise and he was going to have to make the most of it. Fast. Before Malfoy decided to feed him his own... well, never mind.
Taking a deep breath, he shrugged the door open and stepped inside.
The sight that met his eyes stopped him in his tracks. Harry gasped softly.
Malfoy was still engrossed in his pacing and had mercifully not noticed him. He was clad in a white shirt and black trousers, the lithe planes of his body visible against the thin, silky material. His blond hair was tousled - a stark contrast to his usual, impeccable appearance - and damn, if Harry didn't like it. His mouth was a hard, pressed line despite those soft, full lips and his grey eyes glared defiantly at nothing in particular. He was obviously working himself up into a fine rage. And he looked brilliant. Who knew Malfoy could look quite so fetching? Harry had thought he looked gorgeous in the shadows of that dank, dimly lit pub, but here in his element... he was stunning. A wild, untamed animal out to prowl and Harry was more than willing to offer himself up for the hunt. All his doubts from the previous night vanished in thin air as he let his eyes rake over the blond indolently. He was just so...
"Perfect," he said out loud.
Mistake number one...
Malfoy caught the whisper and stiffened, turning around at once. His body went rigid and his eyes went so wide that for a second all Harry could see in that pale face was pools of stormy grey. His lips parted and he emitted a soft breath, apparently too shocked out of his wits to move.
It was a good look for him, Harry thought.
He planned on saying so too... except that Malfoy cut him off with a roar of fury and pulled out his wand.
And that was the precise moment that the world went to hell.
****
Mistake number two? Well, that would be taking cover from Malfoy's onslaught behind a rickety chair when there was a perfectly good, solid desk not ten feet away. Hex after hex flew past him as he crouched behind his makeshift shield.
Harry hissed as a Stinging Hex singed him. This was going to be harder than he thought. Malfoy seemed to know an impressive number of dangerous spells.
And then the desk was hurtling towards him with point blank accuracy and Harry just about managed to scrabble out of the way with seconds to spare. It crashed against the wall with astounding force, landing on the floor in a heap of kindling.
"You!" Malfoy snarled, apparently caught somewhere between utter disbelief and white hot rage. His wand was pointing at Harry's chest - a slim, ebony weapon of pure destruction. "Fucking hell, it's you!"
"Too right," Harry grinned, righting himself easily. "Thanks for the warm welcome."
"What the fuck are you doing here, Potter?" Draco spat. "What is this?"
"Haven't figured it out yet?" Harry asked. "I'd make a blond joke but that would probably end with me impaled on your wand." He grinned and raised an eyebrow at the furious blond. "Not entirely a bad thing, if you catch my drift."
"Shut up!" Draco snarled, casting a Stunner. Harry deflected it easily - he'd been expecting that.
"Temper, temper," he crooned aggravatingly. "We'll have to work on that now that we're officially engaged."
"We are not engaged!" Malfoy snarled, sending a potentially lethal looking hex at him. Harry deflected it again, sending it hurtling out the window.
"Course we are," he replied cheerfully. "Don't you read the papers? By the way, excellent job on the Weird Sisters bass player."
"A standard pecker shrinking hex," Draco sneered. "Care for a demonstration?"
Harry laughed. "Wouldn't be much use to you then, would I?" he asked, lazily eyeing the blond. He delighted in Draco's surprised blink. The sudden change of tactics had caught him off guard. Harry took a cautious step towards the blond, only to encourage an immediate retreat.
"Get away from me!" Draco snapped, backing away quickly. "Don't touch me, Potter!"
"I remember you saying that before," Harry mused. "When was that again? Oh right, when I saved your scrawny little neck from that brute at the pub. Funny, I don't remember you thanking me for that."
"I had it under control," Malfoy gritted reluctantly.
"Sure you did," Harry retorted. "Right up to the part where he nearly strangled you and I had to step in to save your pretty, little arse. Again."
Malfoy scowled at him. "Nobody asked for your help, Potter."
"Well, you got it," Harry growled. "I wasn't going to stand around and watch you get pushed around."
Malfoy seemed surprised by that. He opened his mouth - probably to say something utterly prattish - and then closed it again, looking somewhat flummoxed. Harry chuckled and moved closer to him so that they were almost touching. "Can we just sit and talk about this? I promise I won't bite - unless you're into that sort of thing."
The blond's eyes narrowed again as his previous predicament were brought to the forefront. "No!" he spat. "You're leaving right now!" He planted his hands on Harry's chest as if to push past him, but Harry was prepared for that. He side-stepped the blond and nicked his wand neatly, much to Draco's chagrin. Then he grabbed hold of the man's slim wrist, taking care not to manhandle him but holding him firmly in place.
"I'm not going anywhere until you thank me," the Gryffindor purred. "And neither are you."
Draco made a frustrated noise and struggled but it was useless. Harry definitely had him as far as brute strength went. Finally he stopped his squirming, and just stood there glowering stubbornly.
"I'll spend the night here if I have to," Harry grinned. "Although, I figured you'd want to wait until you have a ring on your finger for that."
He had no doubt that if Draco had the use of both his hands, they'd be around his throat by now. As it were, the blond visibly paled at that suggestion. "Fine! Thank you!" he spat, trying to extricate himself rather frantically now. "Happy?"
"Ecstatic," Harry replied. He pulled the blond flush against his body with a sharp tug and brought that pretty wrist to his mouth, kissing it chastely before letting go. Draco's eyes widened and he inhaled sharply, cradling his wrist against his chest as if afraid it would be snatched up again. Harry couldn't help a cheeky grin. "Now was that so hard?"
Draco growled threateningly and he stepped away. The blond retreated as well, huddling in a corner and watching Harry with wary, grey eyes. "You're a sociopath," he accused, conveniently forgetting that he was the one launching furniture missiles not ten minutes ago.
"Probably," Harry agreed cheerfully. "Lucky I have my sweet, mild mannered fiancé to smooth things over, eh? Which reminds me, I'll pick you up at seven for dinner tomorrow."
"What?!"
"Well, I would have mentioned it sooner except you..." he dodged the book Malfoy promptly hurled at his head. "...were busy doing that."
Malfoy snarled and tugged at his blond hair in abject frustration. Harry smirked as he stomped over, pointing a threatening finger in his face. "Listen carefully," Malfoy intoned in a livid hiss. "I don't know what you think you're doing or what's going on in that oversized Gryffindor head of yours. I have had a long,confusing day and there's a lot I don't understand right now. But I do know this - you're going to have to drag me from this Manor kicking and screaming. I will put you through hell before I do anything you want and I will not... not be a part of whatever mad scheme you're on to this time. I will not! Do you understand me, Potter?"
"Perfectly," Harry smirked. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."
"Don't call me... are you even listening? I am not going anywhere with you! Not unless you drag my stiff, cold corpse..."
"Yes yes, you'll make life a living hell for me, I'll rue the day I crossed you etcetera etcetera. Much as I enjoy this scintillating conversation, I really have to get back to Quidditch practice. Be sure to dress fancy for tomorrow, yeah?" Harry had the utter gall to lean over and give the blond a quick peck on the cheek before walking away.
"Potter! You crazy, delusional freak! I told you I'm not going to dinner with you!"
"Oh I think you will," Harry chuckled, pulling out something from his back pocket. "Or I'll just have to hold on to this until you're more... accommodating." He waved Draco's stolen wand aggravatingly, before giving him a cheeky wink and taking off.
As he bolted down the stairs and out the nearest exit, he vaguely wondered if the Slytherin would make dinner any easier on him.
"FATHER! YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!"
Harry chuckled.
Probably not.
****
"Well, I hope you're happy," Andromeda drawled, sitting next to her smirking companion. "Now he's out for blood."
"Oh indeed," Lucius chortled, evidently very pleased with himself. "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be glad for a Gryffindor in my house."
"Which reminds me, Lucius... Harry Potter? Really?"
"Surely you don't plan to tell me you disapprove. I happen to remember you being rather taken with the brat."
"Harry is a remarkable young man," Andromeda admitted. "I am very fond of him. That being said, what on earth were you thinking?"
"Merely that Potter might be the solution to all our problems. He's well placed; abysmally brave - or stupid as the case may be - and apparently he has a death wish. He's perfect."
"It's not me you need to convince, Lucius," she quipped raising an eyebrow. "Your son begs to differ."
"My son has had his chances. Several of them," Lucius retorted. "I'm the Lord of this Manor and I will do what I think is best."
"Yes well, do try to remember that when Draco stabs you in your sleep," she smirked.
Lucius frowned. "He wouldn't."
Andromeda merely shrugged and shot him one of her most charming smiles. "I would."
"Sometimes I forget you're a Black."
She laughed and patted his shoulder. He inhaled sharply as those long, slender fingers brushed absently at his hair as they retreated. "Lock your door tonight, Lord of the Manor," she threw over her shoulder as she left.
And Lucius did not let his eyes linger on the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away. Most certainly not.
****
Draco was on the verge of a panic attack.
He had spent the last day and a half alternating between sulking moodily in the gardens and Incendioing portraits of family members who annoyed him. Great Grandfather Abraxas was a prick anyway.
Now it was nearly four in the afternoon, and he had just received an owl from Potter reminding him about that blighted dinner. There was no doubt his 'fiancé' was going to show up as promised. Which was seldom a problem for Draco. It was simply a matter of evicting said fiancé by means of death threats, force and in one memorable case - killer peacocks from the garden.
Except that Potter was barking mad and clearly not to be trifled with.
Draco kicked at a side table angrily. How could his own father have tied him down with that lunatic? Potter was insane! He rode dragons and battled Dementors and eliminated evil dark wizards intent on taking over the world without so much as a by your leave! Who did shite like that? A sane man would run for his life when assaulted with hexes and flying furniture. A sane man would bolt out the door at once and never come back. A sane man would most certainly not nick his wand and hold him to ransom with it! And kiss him on the cheek as if he were some sort of starry eyed girl! The nerve! The absolute audacity! The... the... GAAAH!
No. No, this had to end. He could not, absolutely not see Potter again. It didn't matter how fit the bastard was or how his eyes flared when he looked Draco over or... or...
DAMN IT!
Resolutely, Draco marched out of his quarters and over to Father's study.
He couldn't handle Potter's mind games a second longer. Not without complete losing what was left of his sanity.
****
"Take it back."
Lucius resolutely kept his gaze on his Gringotts statement, refusing to meet eyes with his sulking son. "No," he replied simply.
There was a resounding huff of indignation and Lucius smirked. He was sure Draco was pouting. He always resorted to blatant manipulation when his tantrums didn't work. "Just call the Prophet and tell them it was a mistake," he demanded petulantly. "Or that Potter died in a fiery accident. I'll even arrange for it to happen so you don't look like an arse. Just make it stop."
"Draco, it is not my place to tell Potter how to treat his betrothed."
"I am not his betrothed!" Draco snapped. "Will everyone stop saying that?"
"Well, he seems to think so. As do I. Frankly, I don't really see the problem. Why don't you just incapacitate him like all the others if he displeases you so?"
"Because Potter refuses to be incapacitated!" Draco argued. "He doesn't play fair!"
"What you mean is he won't roll over and play dead for you."
"He stole my wand! And he won't give it back unless I go to dinner with him."
"The horror," Lucius drawled. "How will you ever survive such a calamity?"
Draco responded with a curious noise - somewhere between a shriek and a snarl - and started pacing. Lucius could hear his footsteps echoing as he ricocheted around the study. "He's insane!" he ranted fretfully. "A sodding lunatic! I'm going to report him. Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll just call the Auror department and..."
"And say what exactly? That you're being harassed by the Saviour of all Wizard kind? Good luck fighting those odds."
Draco stopped pacing and slammed a fist on the desk. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "And how did you get Potter to agree to this? I know you did something."
Lucius abandoned the parchment and met his son's gaze steadily. "I merely did what any concerned father should have done. You are erratic and unhappy and you need a life partner to calm and balance you. As it happens, that man is Potter. He feels so, I feel so and in time, you will see that it's for the best."
Draco's grey eyes blazed. "Do I look calm and balanced?" he snarled. "I told you once and I'm telling you again - I will not go through with this charade!"
"You most certainly will. I am not opposed to cutting you off from your opulent lifestyle. Disinheriting you, if necessary."
Draco's jaw ticked, but the subtle threat held good. "So its blackmail then, is it?"
"I am merely trying to do what is best for you. For Merlin's sake, boy - you're not being married off this second. Just get to know the man."
"I do know him! He's an arrogant, conceited, obnoxious Gryffindor with a hero complex the size of Dover!"
"And you're a spoilt, petulant child throwing a temper tantrum in his father's study. We all have our flaws. Now go to dinner with your fiancé and leave me be."
He suppressed a wince as Draco emitted a howl that would have done a Mandrake proud and stormed off.
He could only hope that Potter knew just what he was getting into.
****
Andromeda smiled warmly as her nephew slinked into her room, looking distinctly put out. He didn't say a word. Instead he settled on the floor next to her and put his head on her lap, silently demanding a petting. The witch shook her head fondly and carded a hand through Draco's blond locks.
"Having a bad day, are we?"
"Horrible," Draco grumbled, curling against her like a cat. "Make Potter go away."
"Oh now, it can't be that bad."
"It is. He's awful and I hate him."
Andromeda couldn't help it. She laughed. "It's funny," she explained, petting her pouting nephew again. "That's exactly what your mother said when she first met your father."
Draco stared at her. "You're not serious," he blurted. "Mother said that?"
"Well, she was very opposed to an engagement with a man she barely knew and Lucius wasn't exactly... what she had in mind. And then your father mentioned that he wanted... what was it? Ah yes, 'four strapping sons to ensure that the Malfoy name lived on' or some such nonsense."
Draco snickered as Andromeda grinned at the memory. "Your mother of course, reacted like any proper, pureblood lady of her upbringing would have."
"She hexed him?"
"I believe the younger crowd calls it a 'Bat Bogey' these days."
Draco burst into laughter. "She didn't! Merlin, she must have been pissed."
"Oh, she was. Ranted and railed about it for days. She even vowed never to speak to 'that blight on humanity' again."
"Then what happened?"
"Well, eventually your father apologised and she calmed down. It took a lot of patience and persuasion on his part, not to mention three years of courting - practically unheard of in those days - but eventually, she said yes." She smiled softly. "I've never seen two people more in love."
Draco sighed and settled down in her lap again, uncharacteristically quiet. Andromeda's heart clenched. She knew how much he missed Narcissa... perhaps more than all of them.
"It's never perfect, Draco" she said softly. "But you have to open yourself to the possibility that things might work out."
"Not like this," he murmured softly. "And certainly not with... him."
"You're overthinking it, love. You'll be okay, I promise."
He grumbled something about sanctimonious, overbearing Gryffindors and she grinned mischievously. "Of course, no one ever said you shouldn't make him work for it."
Draco let a grin break out on his face. "You know I love you, right?"
"And I love you, Dragon" she replied, kissing his forehead. "Try not to destroy this one though, okay?"
"I never make promises I can't keep," Draco smirked.
Andromeda sighed. In her experience, neither did Harry Potter.
****
Later that evening...
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Harry frowned and approached the Manor cautiously. He had seen neither hide nor hair of his new fiancé ever since yesterday's catastrophe and he was sure Malfoy would try to get even. There had been no reply to his note, but passive aggressive was not Malfoy's style. Harry had expected at least a Howler or two.
The silent tension of it was getting to him. There was no way Malfoy was going to go easily.
"He has to be planning something," Harry muttered. "But what?"
"Well, for one thing there's that Devil's Snare patch you're standing in," a cheerful voice pointed out. Harry yelped as he realized that a green tendril was in fact wrapping itself around his leg. Zabini stepped out of the shadows and cast a quick Incendio. The plant retreated and Harry scowled at the grinning Italian.
"Must you be everywhere?" he demanded.
Zabini shrugged. "Well, I figured you'd need a little help getting through Phase One on your first try. Of course, if you'd rather tackle the grand piano hanging precariously from the ceiling, the Venomous Tentacula and the vampire bats on your own..."
Harry frowned. "He's got vampire bats?"
"Did I mention there's also a Phase Two and Three?" Zabini grinned. "He really doesn't like you."
Harry groaned. "Must he always be so dramatic? I'm not even inside yet."
"I think he plans to keep it that way," Zabini snickered.
"Oh you're funny," Harry snapped, stomping over to sulk under a tree. Zabini cocked his head curiously and followed. "Can I ask you something?"
"Can I stop you?"
"Why are you putting yourself through this? I mean, I get that the World Cup is important and Merlin help me, it'll be fun to have a little competition if you lot can actually make it through the semi-finals this time..."
Harry froze. "You know about...?"
"It was my idea," Zabini smirked. "I didn't think you'd go for it though. So again I ask Potter, is it worth the hassle?"
"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "I think so. Plus it makes Malfoy go spare so that's a bonus."
Zabini laughed. "Potter, a strong breeze makes him go spare. And you're going to commit to spending the rest of your life with that. Exactly what is your plan?"
Harry clenched his fists. Honestly, it was questions like this that unnerved him. He couldn't explain any of it. The way Malfoy was suddenly in his dreams and fantasies, the way his blood flared at the sight of him, the reason he felt alive around him... it was all rather disorienting. And he couldn't say it out loud... especially not to Zabini. Harry shook his head firmly. Besides, it was all just nonsense. Obviously, all he needed was to shag Malfoy silly and get him out of his system. Then he could concentrate on important things again. There, internal crisis handled. He turned to address the Slytherin once again.
"My plan is to beat your ass and win that damn Cup."
"I see," Zabini smirked. "Well, no one can fault you for commitment to the cause, Potter. But as official best friend and president of the Hurt My Malfoy And I'll Kill You Committee it's my duty to inform you - hurt my Malfoy and I'll kill you."
"Hurt him?" Harry snapped. "I'm not the one waylaying passers-by with Devil Snare traps! Hell, he won't even let me in the damn door."
"Oh stop being a baby, Potter. All you have to do is scale the wall and get in through that window right there. A simple Levicorpus should do it. I'd recommend Apparating but you might end up in Lucius' bedroom. Trust me; he gets very cranky when that happens."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten. "Anything else I need to not know about ever?" Zabini shook his head. "Thank Merlin," Harry muttered. "Think you can do a Levicorpus without dropping me on my arse?"
He turned around, but halted as a firm hand gripped his shoulder. "I mean it, Potter," Zabini said quietly. "If he ever finds out about your little... arrangement with Lucius, Draco will be the least of your problems. It's me you'll have to worry about."
"Understood," Harry replied as sincerely as possible. "I'll play ball, Zabini. You've got nothing to worry about. Now will you please fly me up this window so I can meet my fiancé?"
"I swear this place just keeps getting weirder and weirder," Zabini muttered, pulling out his wand. Harry laughed as his feet lifted off the ground.
****
Draco jumped as he heard the noise. It sounded like something was scrabbling outside his...window? The blond's eyes widened and immediately darted towards the clock.
7:15
No. Oh Merlin no. He couldn't have gotten past the... fucking hell; it had taken him hours to get those traps ready! The next second two hands appeared out of nowhere at the window and were immediately joined by an atrociously familiar mop of hair.
Draco made a sound like a strangled cat and backed away at once.
"Sorry I'm late, lovely," Potter grinned as if this were an everyday occurrence. "Got caught up with your pet plant. I think he likes me." He pulled himself up and slipped in the window with casual grace.
"Nice room," he added, looking around. "Can't say I'm crazy about all the green though. Oh well, plenty of time to redecorate when we're married..."
Draco gaped, momentarily unable to form a coherent sentence. "You... but... how?"
"Now, now," Potter grinned predatorily. "You didn't think a little foliage would keep me from my beautiful boyfriend, did you? And if I may say so..." His eyes travelled down Draco's body with ill-concealed interest. "It was completely worth it."
The blond swallowed and backed away. He had never intended for Potter to make it this far. Those traps were impregnable! And yet, here he was... without so much as a scratch on him. Merlin, Draco hated him! "You... you're leaving right now," he stammered out.
Potter's eyes darkened. "I really don't think so. I've played your little games and I've put up with a lot to come see you tonight. We've done it your way, Malfoy. Now it's my turn. You're going to come out with me and have a nice dinner or I swear to Merlin, I'll make you. Your call."
"No!" Draco screamed, somewhat hysterically. He was completely panic stricken. "I told you I won't go and I meant it! You're not going to make me!" Potter's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened with stubborn determination. He took a step towards the frantic blond at which point, Draco completely lost it. He bolted.
"Damn it!" Potter snarled, giving chase. Draco practically flew towards the door, trying to wrench it open. Potter's hand was around his waist in an instant and he was yanked back roughly. "You are not running from me again," he growled.
Draco struggled like a maniac, trying to twist out of the iron grip but Potter's hold was too strong. He was manoeuvred around roughly and Potter's hands planted themselves around his slim waist. Draco snapped and snarled, howling and cursing and screaming bloody murder until...
"Enough!"
The shout rang out, echoing across the room. Draco ceased his struggling, momentarily shocked. Emerald green eyes blazed at him, making him feel distinctly uncomfortable. Draco cringed. Damn, Potter was angry. He was glaring down at him - being at least a head taller than Draco (when had that happened?) - and his jaw was clenched tight. It was also broad and slightly dark with stubble and... and... NO! This could not happen again! Particularly when Potter looked like he wanted to strangle him.
"You spoilt, cossetted brat!" Potter snarled. "You will stop acting like a nightmare this second or there will be consequences. Do you understand?"
Draco flinched, but scowled stubbornly. Potter growled and shook him, almost violently. "I asked you a question," he hissed. Draco flinched as Potter's hands tightened around his waist. It wasn't painful... but there was no doubt that Potter was strong. And pissed off.
"Yes," he gritted out reluctantly.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I understand!" Draco snapped. He hated this!
"Good," Potter praised, his tone suddenly soothing. Draco scowled and bit down the urge to say something scathing. The man was a maniac. It would be prudent not to antagonize him more than necessary. He seemed satisfied for now. The hands around his waist shifted to his back, tracing soothing patterns against his tense muscles. Draco's breath hitched and his eyes widened. Potter smirked.
"Breathe, gorgeous" he whispered. "We're just getting to know each other, that's all."
Draco muttered something about not wanting to get to know Potter but kept still. The adamant prat shifted closer and traced his shoulders soothingly. His fingers traced Draco's neck, hovering at the pulse point for a moment before slowly tracing their way up his face. The blond blinked in surprise and stiffened but Potter shushed him gently, still mapping his features under his calloused fingers. Against his will, Draco found himself relaxing into the touch. It felt... well, not terrible...
"So pretty," Potter murmured speculatively. "It's a shame you've got such a mouth on you." His finger dipped to trace Draco's lips and the blond shivered, parting them ever so slightly. "Then again," Potter husked. "Maybe it's not all bad. Silver lining and all that..."
Draco hummed and closed his eyes. Potter's voice was low and husky and his fingers were warm against his heated skin and it wasn't so bad really... odd perhaps, but not...
Suddenly Potter's arms tightened around him and Draco gasped as he felt the all too familiar tug of apparition. The bastard had tricked him.
DAMN IT!
****
Draco was still cursing fluently when they were on solid ground again.
"You lying, manipulative bastard! Let GO!"
He flung Potter off, glaring daggers at the grinning idiot. The Gryffindor chuckled and dusted off his jacket easily. "Well, that was fun," he said. "To tell the truth, I figured you'd put up more of a fight. Turns out a little action is all I need to bring out your cooperative side."
Draco flushed and clenched his fists. Embarrassment washed over him in waves as he realized that Potter wasn't lying. It was all true. At some point, he had been willing to do what Potter wanted and... why? Just because the prat's hands had been all over him? Good Lord, what was wrong with him?
Potter was still grinning and Draco wasn't sure he could take it anymore. He turned on his heel and started walking away.
"Oh come on! Don't be like that."
Ignore him, he told himself firmly. Just keep walking.
"Malfoy! Wait up!" The prat was running now to keep up with him. Draco huffed and quickened his footsteps. Potter kept pace with him easily. Damn his long legs!
"Seriously? The silent treatment?" The idiot actually had the gall to protest.
"Go away," Draco muttered mutinously.
"At least tell me where you're going."
"Home!" Draco snapped.
"You plan to walk home from Paris?"
Draco screeched to a halt and turned to goggle at his companion. "Paris?" he echoed incredulously. "You... you Apparated us to... we're in Paris?"
"Well it's definitely not Hogsmeade, is it?"
Draco took a sharp breath and stopped to take a good look around. From the alley he was standing in, he could see the busy streets and soft lights of the city. Elegant, old buildings sprawled out on all sides, competing with modern skyscrapers and blaring traffic. In the distance the Eiffel Tower shimmered, spiralling majestically over the city.
Oh. My. God.
"France?" Draco nearly choked, turning on Potter. "You Apparated us into another country? Are you insane?"
Potter let out a long suffering sigh. "What's the world coming to when a man is called insane for taking his fiancé to Paris?"
Draco suppressed the urge to scream. "First of all, you kidnapped me. Second of all, I am not your fucking fiancé!"
Two women stopped in their tracks to stare at them and then scurried off.
"I do so love your spirit, darling," Potter cooed, undeterred. "I feel like the luckiest man in the world."
Draco gave up. It was hopeless. He was stuck with a madman over a thousand miles from home and frankly, he was exhausted. Potter was impossible and screaming at him only made it worse. Maybe... maybe compromise would work. It was worth a try. "If... if I say I'm your fiancé will you stop acting like a crazy person?" he asked tentatively.
"Well we won't know until you do, will we honey?"
Draco groaned and scrubbed his face wearily. "Fine, Potter. You win. I'm your fiancé. Happy?" This seemed to happen a lot these days...
"Well of course I am, you silly blond thing you," Potter chuckled. "Now hurry up. Dinner awaits us." He turned away and sauntered off merrily, leaving Draco gaping behind him. The young blond went over his meagre list of options. There was nothing he wanted more than to hex the very skin off Potter. Unfortunately the wanker still had his wand. Maybe, he should try walking back... it was only a few thousand kilometres...
"Draco? I'm not getting any younger, darling."
There was nothing for it. Draco slumped his shoulders in defeat and trudged behind Potter. Get this over with as soon as possible, he told himself firmly. And try... try not to go completely mental in the meantime.
****
Draco stabbed fitfully at his fish and tried not to sulk. In light of his changed circumstances, he had adopted a strategy of mutinous silence and constant pouting, pointedly ignoring everything that Potter said. It hadn't deterred the man in the slightest.
Potter went about his evening with a blithe confidence, smiling and chatting with the waiter, somehow managing to select the right wine and ordering for both of them. Draco's chagrin at the high handedness was overshadowed by his surprise at the fact that Potter spoke fluent French.
Potter must have noticed his shocked expression because he shrugged and grinned. "We did some intel in France during the War. I was stuck here for the better part of a year. Turns out when you've got nothing to do in a strange city, you pick up a few things."
Draco nodded stiffly. He really didn't want to talk about the War. His own involvement had been limited but it still rankled.His mind flitted with memories of the Dark Lord and he shuddered. His mother had shipped him off to a safe house the second she had a chance and he had spent three, dark and terrifying months in Italy with Blaise, waiting for the odd owl, wondering if their families were alive or dead. It had been the worst time of his life and now, it just stung that while he had been hiding away like a coward, Potter had tackled the monster head on and given them their lives back. The Dark Lord... Draco shuddered again.
He started as he felt a firm hand on his shoulder and stared into concerned, green eyes. "I'm glad it's over too,"Potter told him sincerely. Draco nodded again and shrugged off his hand. He didn't want contact right now... especially with Potter.
Mercifully, Potter seemed to understand and backed off. He poured another glass of wine, which Draco accepted grudgingly and smiled in that annoying, disarming way of his. "Tell me about yourself," he ordered. "What do you do?"
"I'm studying Potions," Draco answered. He may as well answer Potter's asinine questions if it would get him home sooner. "I was hoping to get my Masters this year."
"But?" Potter frowned.
"But I wasn't selected for the internship,"Draco replied bitterly. "Limited seats." What that meant of course, was that someone with his Dark Arts background shouldn't even have bothered to apply.But Draco had been adamant. He knew he had a perfect NEWT score for the program. He had hoped that that would even out the odds for him. Apparently not.
Potter just nodded speculatively. "Well, you'll manage," he said finally. "You were certainly talented, from what I remember."
"Can we not talk about this?" Draco snapped.This whole conversation was messing with his head. He did not want to share his long list of personal failures with Potter. This whole thing was reaching new levels of ridiculous.
"Of course," Potter replied easily. "Let's talk about us instead."
Draco's eyes narrowed warningly. "Us?"
"Well, we need to discuss our future together,don't we? Wedding dates, buying a house, four or five kids... all that jazz."
"Potter, for the love of Merlin! We are not getting... five kids?"
"And a crup in the yard, unless you're a cat person. You look like a cat person."
Draco whimpered and rubbed his temples. He was developing a migraine, he just knew it. And he was really too tired to fight anymore. "Why are you doing this, Potter?" he asked wearily.
"Doing what?" Potter asked innocently.
"This!" Draco ranted, not even caring that a few people were staring at them now. It was too much. "All of it! With the dinner and the courting and the crazy!What could you possibly be getting out of this? I'm trying and trying to figure it out but I can't! And I know you're up to something! Don't you dare tell me you're not! Merlin as my witness Potter, I will find out and I will make you suffer for this incessant harassment if it's the last thing I... mmmph!"
In hindsight, he should have noticed Potter slowly and steadily sidling over to his side of the table. But Draco was far too caught up in his rant to give a damn. So when Potter's hand gripped the back of his neck, tugging him forward and their lips crashed together, he was somewhat surprised. So surprised in fact, that he gasped and Potter - bastard that he was - took due advantage and slipped his tongue in his mouth. Draco snarled in frustration and reached for a fork, determined to stab the Gryffindor to within an inch of his life. Potter was prepared and grabbed hold of his wrists, pinning them together as he ravaged his mouth senselessly. Draco struggled petulantly for all of ten seconds, before coming to the conclusion that it was futile. Defeated, he relaxed his tense body and surrendered, giving Potter free rein to do as he pleased. The Gryffindor smirked against his lips,recognizing his victory and plied Draco with lips and teeth and tongue,exploring every inch of his new found territory with enthusiasm. It seemed to go on for hours, with him hauled up in Potter's arms like a ragdoll as the manat tempted to snog the very life force out of him. Finally, the need for oxygen took over and Draco whimpered in feeble protest. Potter released him, chuckling when a rather light headed Draco slumped against him.
"Any more questions?" the prat asked smugly.
"A simple I find you attractive would have done the job, Potter," the blond grumbled. Potter laughed and carded a hand through his hair, and he debated whether or not to push him away. What was the point? So he stayed where he was as Potter cleared the cheque and thanked their waiter. He didn't even protest when the man hauled him up again and back out on the street or when they Apparated back to Malfoy Manor. They landed on solid ground again with Draco still tucked firmly in the crook of Potter's arms.
Then he protested.
He huffed and pushed Potter away at once,scowling as the arrogant git stumbled a bit and righted himself, still grinning. "Delightful" he teased lightly, green eyes sparkling merrily. "And to think, I was worried that you'd give me a hard time." Draco flushed and looked away. This would have been so much easier if Potter had the basic courtesy to be ugly as fuck. Unreasonable git...
"You had your fun," he scowled belligerently."Now go away."
"Alright," Potter grinned, taking his waist and pulling him closer. "But I have something for you first."
Draco's eyes widened as that damn kiss flashed through his mind again. There was no way he was reliving that again. "I don't want it," he snapped, turning his head away mulishly. "Leave, Potter."
"No," Potter husked, trailing a hand down his cheek again. "I want you to have this."
Draco faltered, his skin flaring at the seemingly innocent touch. "P-potter..."
"Hush, beautiful," Potter whispered. "You want this, I swear."
"N-no," Draco protested adamantly. Potter was so close now. The woodsy scent of pine drifted over Draco and he swallowed.Potter's lips hovered over his and despite himself, Draco whimpered.
"Want it now?" Potter whispered. Draco staggered like a pile of bricks.
"Yes," he managed, closing his eyes. Potter tilted his head up with a gentle hand and Draco hummed and parted his lips.Potter's mouth ghosted over his tantalisingly. And then Draco felt those lips stretch in an amused grin. His eyes fluttered open in surprise as he felt something long and thin slipping into his trouser pocket. What the...?
"Your wand," Potter chuckled, pulling back abruptly. "I figured you'd want it back." The git favoured him with a sweet kiss on the cheek and removed his hands, backing away smoothly. Draco tried not to whine at the sudden loss. He was so stunned that all he could do was stare as Potter turned his back on him and walked away.
"I'll be in touch, beautiful," he called back."Sleep well."
And then he was gone. Draco slumped against the Manor gates trying and failing to understand how his life had culminated to this single point of madness. There were no answers in the stillness of the night. Finally, he gave in to his exhaustion and trudged up to bed.
So much for not going completely mental...
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