Chapter Twenty-Five

This chapter was written by literaryspell.

Sunlight eased through the trees and tickled the tall windows of the solarium. It was a peaceful place, Harry reflected; somewhere to clear your head or perhaps talk yourself out of a raging erection.

Harry sat carefully in one of the chaises, groaning at the tightness of his trousers. How many times had he watched Draco run away from him? How many more times would it happen? Couldn't anything just be easy with them?

So Draco obviously wasn't ready for sex. Harry could respect that. It was a big step, especially for someone who hadn't even realized he was gay until the latest possible moment. Harry thought back to his own first experiences...with Justin. He'd been fumbling and self-conscious, and Justin had talked him through it, albeit with that little smirk that Harry had come to hate. Harry supposed he shouldn't have moved so quickly with Draco, but he made it impossible to take things at a normal pace.

One moment Harry was flirting (or trying to) and the next Draco's mouth was under his and God, the taste of him. It was unlike anything Harry had ever known. His control had spiralled in seconds...the weight of Draco's hands on him, the need that was so obvious between them. Before he'd known what he was saying, he was asking about lube.

A particularly punishing stream of light broke into the room...Harry winced. It reminded him of Draco: bright and golden but capable of burning; annoying when it got in your face but still something you want to see when you first woke up.

"Damn you, Draco," Harry muttered. Why did he always have to run? Why did it feel like Harry was always running after him? Even as he thought that, however, a voice in the back of his mind...Hermione, again...reminded him that Draco had sought him out at the Black Bear. Draco had tried to reach him through his drunken stupor; Draco had wanted to work things out.

Draco was like glass and Harry's grip was just too fucking tight.

Harry stood. "I need a drink," he said under his breath. He was halfway to the Malfoy's dining room sideboard when he remembered he'd promised Draco he wouldn't drink. Well, he mentally amended, I promised to try. But surely this is an occasion for a drink? Draco will understand... Then Harry laughed at himself. Yes, because Draco was so very understanding. It wasn't worth the fight, the way Draco would turn cool and distant, like he'd expected nothing less of Harry, yet in his eyes would be disappointment. Harry's hand shook as he drew it through his hair. For the first time, it occurred to him how difficult it would be to stop drinking, how much of a crutch it had become over the years and even more so once he'd been taken off as an Auror.

He'd been relieved of his duties so he could give Draco his full attention and he hadn't done that. He'd retreated to drinking and acting like a child because it was easier, it was what he was used to. No more, Harry decided. He'd made a promise to Draco, but it was time to make a promise to himself. He would stop drinking. He wanted his old life back, the life where he turned to his friends for help when he needed it instead of taking it all into himself, the life where people had admired him for his competence and not just his name. And maybe a part of that life could contain Draco...Draco who deserved a teacher who was sober and in full control. Draco who deserved a lover who didn't jump right into important decisions just because it was what he was used to doing.

Always the type to feel better after making a decision, Harry gave one last look at the bottles lined up and walked out of the room. He wasn't certain where Draco had gone, but his room was a good guess.

Harry knocked on his door but there was no answer. He considered leaving Draco to himself but decided that wasn't in keeping with his new attitude. He opened the door and froze when Draco left the en suite bathroom at the same time. His cheeks were flushed and there was a languid grace to his movements.

"Oh," Harry said, unable to take his eyes away. He knew like he knew his own name that Draco had just finished wanking.

"Potter! Since when are you welcome in my bedchamber?" Draco didn't quite meet his eyes, instead walking over to his desk and randomly arranging papers.

"Maybe I'm hoping to change that."

Draco threw him a sharp glance. "Why would you think that's something that can be changed?"

"Because of the way you kissed me." Harry took a few steps into the room, feeling confident...if not totally certain...that Draco wouldn't throw him out.

"You kissed me," Draco said weakly.

"Are you sure?" Harry pressed. He couldn't rightly remember himself, but he couldn't help pushing Draco's buttons.

Eyes narrowed, Draco didn't respond. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked pointedly at the door.

"I'll leave," Harry said. "When you make me."

Draco scoffed. "I don't have to make you. I'm telling you to get out."

"Since our lesson was cut short, I think we should pick up where we left off."

"We are not doing anything... like that... again, Potter," Draco said in a low voice. He did meet Harry's eyes and Harry had to wonder at how expressive Draco's features could be. He thought he was hiding everything behind layers of ice and stone, but even in his forced indifference Harry could tell he very much wanted them to kiss again...he just couldn't say it.

"I meant the lesson, actually," Harry said with a chuckle. "But I'll keep that in mind."

Draco's cheeks flared with red and he seemed speechless...but that only lasted a moment. "So I make you leave and the lesson's finished?"

"If you can make me leave, using magic, then I'll consider it a complete lesson and you'll have the night to yourself."

"Fine." Draco cast his eyes about the room as if searching for ideas of what spell to use.

After a moment, Harry's feet felt warm...then hot. He smiled at Draco's ingenuity but cast a counter-spell to whatever heat hex Draco was using. Then a strong wind assailed his chest and propelled him a long stride backward before he planted his feet. Harry frowned, displeased that Draco had even pushed him that far. With a wave of his hand, he redirected the wind into the wall. A painting of Malfoy Manor from centuries before crashed to the ground, and Harry fixed the dented frame before Draco could hurl abuse at him for destroying an heirloom.

Draco paced back and forth at his end of the bedroom. Every now and then Harry would feel ticklish or freezing cold or, and...he had to give Draco credit for this one...the immediate need to use the loo, but Harry countered them all easily.

Even so, it was a step forward. Draco was now casting, without a wand, offensive spells. They were weak, unfocused, and temporary, but there was no doubt he was improving.

Harry was about to tell Draco to just give up and relent to a real, full-length lesson when a sensation of pleasant warmth stole over him. He furrowed his brows. Why was he in Draco's room? He looked around. Draco was standing by his desk, staring at Harry with an intense look in his eyes. Harry rather liked the look, but he didn't like not knowing what was going on.

"What am I doing here?" he asked.

Draco smirked. "You were just leaving."

"Oh." Harry nodded. "Well... sorry to bother you." He turned and left the room, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Draco, who seemed to be trembling with the effort of... something. He frowned again and shut the door behind him.

As soon as he did, the knowledge of what had happened hit him like...

...hit him like a fucking Confundus.

Harry turned on his heel and threw the door open. Draco was standing where he'd left him, clutching his sides and laughing his bloody arse off.

"You Confunded me!" Harry cried, appalled that it had been that easy.

"And it was beautiful! You should have seen your poor, confused face." He broke out into renewed laughter.

Despite his embarrassment at being so easily defeated, the enormity of what Draco had accomplished was too much to overlook. "Draco... you did it. You cast an offensive spell that worked perfectly."

Draco's eyes widened as if he himself hadn't considered the impact of his accomplishment beyond humiliating Harry. "I did," he said, sounding awed.

Harry strode forward. He only meant to shake Draco's hand, to congratulate him, but he found himself pulling Draco forward by the shoulder and kissing him, hard.

Draco opened to the kiss, which was Harry's first surprise. His second was Draco taking control, his hands bracketing Harry's face and directing him as their mouths moved together. The first time they'd kissed, Harry had been arse-up drunk; the second time, they'd come in their trousers together; the third time, Harry'd scared Draco into running.

Harry was determined that none of these outcomes would occur this time...not even the second, as pleasant as it had been. He broke the kiss slowly, going back for two more, shorter kisses, part of him unable to believe he was stopping the kiss on purpose. They breathed each other's air for a moment, and for the first time Draco didn't seem ready to fall apart or face a crisis.

"I know you'll probably take this the wrong way, but I'm proud of you, Draco."

Draco looked away but his lips curled the tiniest bit, and Harry knew his words were welcomed.

"You've come so far. And your determination is really admirable."

"Well, I suppose the teacher must be credited if the student excels."

Harry was taken aback. That was almost a thank-you. That was almost Draco saying Harry was good at teaching him. He closed his eyes against the sudden warmth inside him. Validation, no matter who it had come from in the past, had never felt so damn earned.

"I appreciate that," he said instead of voicing his more intense inner thoughts.

Draco nodded, and then they were separating. Draco straightened his robes and Harry mussed his hair. Had they just kissed and nothing bad had come of it? Had they just complimented each other without provoking an apocalypse? It was almost too much to contemplate.

"So I suppose you're free for the evening, seeing as you definitely got me out of your room."

Draco was silent for a moment. Then, "I rather feel like continuing. That is, if you're willing."

"Draco." Harry smiled and touched his arm. "I'm willing. Just say the word." He tried to infuse his multiple meanings into his words, and he knew Draco was more than smart enough to pick up on it.

Draco cleared his throat. "I see. Well, shall we continue with the lesson, then?"

"Sure."

*

Draco declared the lesson finished a few hours later. He hadn't been able to recreate the strength of his Confundus, but he'd managed a few other lesser offensive spells, and it had been, overall, a very productive lesson.

"I'm starving," Harry said after his stomach announced that very fact by gurgling. "Must be time for dinner by now."

Draco checked an antique pocket watch. "Perfect timing. Let's go down."

They descended the stairs together, and Harry was struck by the easy camaraderie they shared. Could it be like that most of the time? he wondered. Or were those moments the exception to the rule of fighting and frustration?

Harry's eyebrows shot up when he saw Luna Lovegood, looking spectacularly out of place, at the bottom of the stairs. She was chatting with Lucius, who eyed with distaste her bright purple robes adorned with bells on the sleeves...bells that jingled quite vociferously, as Luna tended to gesticulate when she was interested in something.

"Harry!" she cried when she saw him, and Harry could tell she'd interrupted Lucius mid-sentence because his face went a humorous shade of red and the snapping of his jaw was almost audible.

"Luna, how are you? What are you doing here?" He hurried to hug her, and her bells chimed as she returned the embrace.

She looked between Harry and Draco, a glimmer in her eye. "Mr. Malfoy invited me. You can imagine my reluctance, but he was quite persistent. Seems he didn't like something we printed in the recent edition of The Quibbler. "

Harry glanced at Draco, who went pale, his eyes fixed on his father. Lucius didn't seem to notice and simply nodded.

"I take issue with malicious gossip being spread about my family," Lucius said, nose high in the air.

"No names were used, Mr. Malfoy. No one was identified until you owled me."

"I just want confirmation of who wrote the letter, Miss Lovegood. And in the meantime, we shall have a lovely dinner." With that, Lucius turned and exited, leaving Draco, Harry, and Luna to look at each other rather uneasily before following him.

"I can't tell him it was Pansy," Luna whispered to them as they walked.

"I know," Harry said. "Don't worry about it. He has to know already, right, Draco?"

Draco, looking peaky, nodded. "I don't have many female friends. Not to mention the fact that Pansy took Peachy back around the same time. I have no idea what he's really after."

The look of worry on Draco's face made Harry react. He put his hand on Draco's back, trying to reassure him. But Draco didn't respond, only sped his gait until they were all in the dining room.

"This looks lovely," Luna said, beaming as she took in the repast. "Did you know duck is the main food source of Spinnergrins? I feel like I should be twirling around before we eat."

Draco and Lucius looked at a loss but Harry just smiled and pulled out a chair for Luna, who did, indeed, spin once before taking her seat. Harry sat beside her, across from Draco, and Lucius sat at the head as usual.

"So, Miss Lovegood, tell me. How has The Quibbler been getting along without Draco?"

Draco groaned, very softly, and speared his duck. Harry tried to offer him silent support, but Draco wouldn't meet his eyes.

"We're doing well, but the truth is Draco truly was an asset." To Draco, she said, "We'd love to have you back."

"I am simply not the right fit for such a position," Draco said stiffly.

"Meaning you're too good for it," Harry mumbled, annoyed. Why couldn't Draco ever get off his high horse long enough to mingle with the regular people? It would always frustrate him that Draco thought he was too good for such work because it meant, in effect, that Draco was too good for the likes of him.

"Meaning," Draco said, his eyes narrowed at Harry, "that I was not the right fit."

Luna just smiled and pushed the rice on her plate away from the duck. "Well, the job will be waiting for you. Or another one. If you change your mind."

"I won't," Draco said.

After that, the conversation was stilted. At first, Lucius attempted to engage Luna in conversation, and he was actually charming...or his rendition of it, anyway. To Harry, it only seemed smarmy. But Luna was in her own world as always and could only be bothered to respond to Lucius' actual inquiries half the time. The other half she would pose a question of her own or offer up an imaginative factoid...both responses causing Lucius to become more and more unimpressed with her.

Harry thought Lucius should be grateful that Luna had even considered his request, given that Luna had been a victim of his during the war...and the manor itself could not be a pleasant place for her to return to. But Luna was made of stern stuff, Harry knew, despite her outward appearance.

Draco was quiet, picking at his food and not adding much to the conversations around him. Harry took the rare opportunity of Lucius' focus being off his son to study Draco. He did seem tense; the line of his shoulders was straight and his movements were too precise. When he was relaxed, his natural grace shone through, making each gesture seem easy and elegant. When he was upset or nervous, however, he became stiff, as though he was thinking about each action before he did it.

Only once did Draco glance up and meet Harry's eyes. He lifted an eyebrow and Harry smiled in response. Draco held his gaze for a long moment, seeming to search for something in Harry's face. Whatever he saw or did not see, Harry didn't know. Draco eventually looked away, down to his plate, and continued eating.

Luna was the last to finish eating, and waiting for her to take the final bite was agonising. She would lift the fork halfway to her mouth before answering Lucius or addressing Harry, and Harry saw Draco's eyes on the morsel of food as well. At long last she ate it and wiped her mouth daintily with a napkin.

"Miss Lovegood, are you of a mind to talk business with me? I shan't keep you long."

Luna smiled and rose. "Of course. It's good luck to talk business on a full stomach."

Lucius nodded indulgently and they retired to Lucius' study.

"I'm for bed," Draco announced.

"It's still so early. Did the lesson wear you out?" Harry didn't want Draco to leave just yet. Sure, Draco annoyed him and could be a git, but Harry still wanted him. Maybe it wasn't even despite his flaws...Harry was beginning to suspect it was because of them. Draco was an amalgamation of things that Harry didn't like, but all together it made a fascinating sum, and Harry didn't want that sum to go to bed.

"Perhaps. I think it was more my father, to be honest. He can be... tiring."

"I've been saying that all along," Harry said. He walked beside Draco as he headed to the stairs. "Well, I'll walk to you to your room."

"I assure you, that is quite unnecessary. I've found my way there countless times over my life. Never lost my way once."

Harry chuckled. "I'm not worried you'll get lost."

Draco looked at him from the corner of his eyes, then just as quickly looked away when Harry caught his gaze.

"Then what is the purpose of this?"

Shrugging, Harry nudged Draco with his shoulder. He fully expected Draco to shove him away, but he absorbed the contact and kept going. Harry smiled to himself. Progress. "Maybe I'm not as eager as you are to say goodnight."

Draco said nothing...and he didn't smile or otherwise give away that he was pleased, but Harry fancied he could sense Draco's... maybe not happiness, but contentedness. At least he wasn't angry.

"You're not going to bed, then?" Draco asked. Their steps slowed once they'd gone up the stairs and began to make their way down the hallway.

"I think I should stay up and make sure Luna gets home all right."

"You don't have to protect her from my father, Potter. He's not going to lock her in the..." Draco's steps faltered as he seemed to remember Luna's previous history with Malfoy Manor. He shook his head, looking awed. "She's very brave, I'll give her that."

"She is," Harry agreed. "And she's right about the job, Draco. You should take it."

"I don't want to talk about it." Draco stopped in front of his door and turned to Harry. "Good night."

Harry smiled. He wanted to lean in and kiss Draco like they'd just gone on a date. No, more than that, he wanted to follow Draco into his room and do things together that would horrify and appal the portraits that littered the manor. He didn't, though. He was determined not to move too fast for Draco this time. He couldn't stop himself from reaching out and touching Draco's hand...a quick brush, a caress that was difficult to end.

"Good night, Draco."