HP fic: Better Than Revenge, ch. 36: The Back Garden at Grimmauld Place [Harry/Draco, adult]
Title: Better Than Revenge chapter 36, "The Back Garden at Grimmauld Place" Author: celandineb Fandom: HP Pairing: Harry/Draco Rating: adult Summary: Work on the potions progresses, and Harry suggests they should practice some defensive magic as well.
Harry had curled up against him; his face was rough against the skin of Draco's shoulder, but Draco had no wish to move. It was only with reluctance that he reminded Harry that it was dinnertime, and then only because his stomach had begun to rumble.
Being watched so hungrily – no other word did Harry's attitude justice – through the meal ought to have been disconcerting. Draco asked at one point if it was a spot on his nose that made Harry stare that way.
"I'm just glad you're free of the Mark, that's all. I know we're not completely safe yet, but we worked out the Permutatio and we'll destroy the Horcruxes, too, and then after that I'll face Voldemort." Harry's voice was determined, even if he shifted uncomfortably as he spoke. "Until then we can at least enjoy the good moments, like we have tonight."
"Mm. It was good, wasn't it?" Draco grinned, setting down his fork on his now-empty plate and walking around behind Harry to whisper, "I'd be awfully keen on shagging you again, Potter. Or something along those lines... have to admit I'm a bit sore, and I suppose you are too."
"We'd better deal with these potions first. Start the one Ginny found." Harry's face had gone crimson at Draco's suggestion, but his lips parted when Draco gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
Working on brewing the several potions ended up trying Draco's patience. Harry kept sneaking looks at him. Fine in itself, but it was distracting Harry from the task at hand, and Draco had no particular wish to have to start all over again because Harry bungled some aspect of preparation. He snapped at Harry to pay attention and then had to apologize, which he did mean, he found. He didn't want to make Harry feel small, only to ensure that they were each doing their best. Then he had to find something neutral to say to continue the conversation.
"This one will probably be ready Wednesday," Draco remarked as he worked. On the whole these dissolving potions do seem to take at least a few days to brew, don't they?"
"I wonder if that's because they act contrary to the nature of the thing acted on. I know Wolfsbane Potion is tricky and takes a long time to brew, and it has an effect contrary to a werewolf's nature. Remus said he had to have Snape brew it for him at Hogwarts because he didn't have the skill to make it himself."
Draco was surprised to hear Harry speculate on the theory behind any sort of potion-making. He'd never thought Harry had any real interest in the basic principles, instead just following the instructions to earn the marks he needed for the class. That particular idea was dead wrong, of course. Nearly all magic operated contrary to the nature of the affected object; that was the point of magic.
Hearing Harry say something positive about Professor Snape was also unexpected, and Draco couldn't refrain from commenting on that.
"Making the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus is the one good thing I can say about him. Well, that, and that he told you to come find me." Harry avoided looking at Draco and fiddled with the flame under his cauldron. "But he did still kill Dumbledore."
"So that I wouldn't have to," said Draco. "And..." He paused. Should he tell Harry what he'd seen? Professor Snape was an intensely private person and doubtless would hate having what he'd consider a weakness revealed, but... Draco swallowed. If it made Harry judge the man more fairly, it was worth the risk.
"It wasn't easy for him, I know that." Draco spoke in a quiet voice, scarcely louder than the bubbling of his potion. "The next day, when he thought I was asleep, he wept. It was awful. He cut me off when I tried to... to be sympathetic. You know how he can sneer. He said, 'Professor Dumbledore required me to act as I did, for both your sake and his. Leave it be.' So I did, and not long afterward he sent me to find you."
He watched the emotions flicker across Harry's face, disbelief and anger and then again doubt. Harry shook his head as if trying to dislodge a chizpurfle, and covered his own cauldron silently before helping Draco add the final ingredients he needed to incorporate that day.
When they had finished, Draco stretched and said, "I believe you made mention of shagging?"
"You said that." Harry might pretend to object, but Draco could see the fabric of his jeans pull tighter across his crotch. "Not that I mind."
"So it would seem. Shall we go back to our room?" He liked saying that, Draco decided. Our room had a nice sound to it.
"Yeah. Come on."
They raced up the stairs; it was rather like playing Quidditch and jostling for the Snitch, except that here any kind of body contact was fair, in fact that was the whole point. Harry won, just by an instant, but Draco was close enough behind to be able to pounce on him and pin him down on the bed.
Green eyes stared up at Draco. "Why didn't I ever notice you like this at Hogwarts?"
"Because you loathed me there, you prat." Though Draco had to admit, "With reason. Plus, Hogwarts isn't really a place to admire other blokes, even if you hadn't had a girlfriend."
"Two, actually. Cho and then Ginny."
"Ginny. Yes." Draco rolled off Harry and lay next to him, stiff with a resentment he didn't want to acknowledge. "I shouldn't ask, but what about Ginny?"
"We broke up months ago. I know I told you that. The two of us talked about just yesterday," Harry said.
Draco couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "You broke up because you thought she'd be in danger if you didn't. You did it because you cared for her. Do you still?"
Distantly he thought that his father would disapprove – You mustn't let yourself appear vulnerable, Lucius Malfoy would say, holding a glass to the light to admire the blood-red vintage it held, or you'll lose any advantage you might have had. Draco wanted to contradict the memory – that wouldn't work with Harry, Draco was certain – but Harry was speaking, he hadn't even needed a second to think about his answer.
"Of course. I love her."
The words sliced into Draco like slivers of glass. So he'd been wrong, after all.
Harry continued, "Just as I love Ron and Hermione and you, too."
Perhaps there was some hope. "Not all in the same way, I trust?" Draco tried to keep his tone light, casual. "I'd rather not be on a par with Ron Weasley, no offense."
"No, Hermione and Ron are just friends. With me, that is, I think they're more than friends with each other." Harry's voice cracked a little, then. "But Ginny... I don't know any more. I used to know exactly what I was going to do, or at least try to do, and if I succeeded I'd marry Ginny and settle down, maybe work at the Ministry. Lead a boring, uncomplicated, normal life. Now everything I depended on as certain is a lot more insecure, and a lot of that's due to you. Which isn't necessarily bad, but... don't push me on this now, please?"
Draco felt Harry's hand, warm and sweaty, close on his own.
"I like having you here with me. I like having sex with you. I like... no. I love you."
At that Draco had to look at him. "Do you mean that?" He didn't want to disbelieve Harry, but he had to be completely sure Harry didn't mean that he loved Draco the way that he loved Ron Weasley, either.
"Yes," said Harry with a crooked smile that made Draco realize that if he'd made himself vulnerable earlier, Harry was returning the compliment. "I'm in love with you. I think I'm in trouble, being in love with two people at once. What do you think?"
Thinking was not high on Draco's list of priorities just then; he wasted to shout across the rooftops that Harry Potter loved him, and then have them shag themselves silly. Neither of which things was practical to do, the first being dangerous and the second rather uncomfortable at the moment. He settled for a thorough bout of snogging instead, stopping when they were rutting against each other only long enough to say, "I think we're both in enough trouble that it doesn't really matter," and then sliding a hand between them to press against the hot hard length of Harry's cock through his clothes.
Harry hissed in a breath. "Maybe not. God, oh.." His hips bucked forward as Draco deftly undid his trousers and tugged them down together with his underpants.
"Wait," said Draco. "Want to take a shower?"
"Now?" Harry's voice was incredulous.
"Together, I mean." Draco touched him, thumb stroking along the shaft. "I feel rather on the grimy side, and to be honest I'm tired. If I don't shower now I think I'll fall asleep after, and then it'll feel disgusting in the morning. We've done an awful lot today."
"True enough," Harry agreed. "Hermione got rid of your Mark, we played some Quidditch, brewed potions..."
"Shagged," interjected Draco. "So. Shower?"
"All right," said Harry. He wriggled and finished divesting himself of his trousers, then the rest of his clothes.
Quickly Draco did the same, still watching Harry. He really was well worth looking at, shorter than Draco himself but more strongly built; even if he seemed chronically underfed and skinny with it, his shoulders were broader than they looked in those overlarge shirts he seemed to wear all the time.
When they were both naked, Draco put his arms around Harry and whispered in his ear, "What do you want to do?"
"I thought we were showering together?"
"Yes, of course, but... oh, never mind. Come on."
The shower was not designed to hold two people, naturally, but Draco considered that an advantage under the circumstances. He ran his hands over Harry's chest, slippery with the hot water, then reached for the soap and began to wash him. He'd done this with Miles once or twice after Quidditch practice, after the rest of the team had gone. It was a good excuse to touch the other bloke all over, learn something of which spots were most sensitive or ticklish... knowledge that might be useful in all sorts of situations.
Harry responded with all the enthusiasm Draco could have asked for, arching into Draco's touch, turning around so that Draco could reach every inch of his skin, even holding up his legs for equal attention to those and his feet. His eyes were closed against the hot spray and he hummed in his throat as Draco's hands moved, slicking his body with the lather and then rinsing it away.
"Nice, hm?" Draco pulled a now-clean Harry against him, back to belly, finally running one hand over Harry's cock, which sprang back to full attention at once. Draco's own erection had flagged as well but now returned, poking insistently into the firm rounded flesh of Harry's arse.
"Mm." Harry reached behind himself to Draco's hips, pulling him closer. "Yeah. I know I promised you another go, but... I think that'd better be another day, you know?"
"I know." Not surprising that Harry was sore; Draco was, too. Nevertheless he rubbed his prick between Harry's arsecheeks, pushing it down so that the head of it nudged the back of Harry's sac. He wrapped one finger at a time around Harry's cock, enjoying the breathy little gasp Harry gave when the last one was in place.
"Please, Draco," said Harry, pushing urgently into Draco's hand. "God, that's... oh please..." His words died as Draco began to stroke him with one hand, using the other to press his own cock against the tender flesh between bollocks and arsehole. Harry shuddered and whined in his throat with each movement Draco made.
If he had not been bound by the Unbreakable Vow to help Harry, to have him like this would have been a great triumph – the Chosen One, begging for Draco to give him pleasure. Even as it was, Draco felt a thrill that was only partly his own arousal, partly also the knowledge that he, he, was making Harry so excited that he was pleading for more. The idea of it was almost dizzying in its power. Draco gave a twist to each stroke over Harry's cock and was rewarded by a soft cry.
"Yeah... more please... want you so much," Harry panted, his hips bucking into Draco's hand.
Draco thrust his own prick harder between Harry's thighs, using his hand to keep the space tight, grateful for the hot water that ensured just the right amount of friction.
"Want you too, Harry," he said, low, against Harry's neck. "Just you... come on, come with me, yeah, that's right, come on," he crooned, feeling the heat surge within him as all the blood in his body seemed to rush to his groin, all sensations suspended except for the throb of his prick.
He came, sending splatters of thick white spunk onto the back of Harry's balls and through his legs onto the tile where the water quickly washed them away. As the orgasm hit he bit into Harry's shoulder, and Harry's cock convulsed in Draco's hand.
"Oh, fuck, yeah," were Harry's words as Draco released his hold. Harry turned and wrapped his arms around Draco, pushing their now-softening cocks together and kissing Draco's mouth. "I suppose you want to actually wash," he mumbled between kisses.
"Probably," Draco agreed, sucking at Harry's tongue. "That was supposed to be the point. But you can do it if you'd like?"
Harry was a bit less practiced at washing someone else than Draco. He also had to hurry a bit toward the end as it seemed that whatever charm the Black family had used to obtain their hot water, it had worn down somewhat over the years. Nevertheless Draco enjoyed Harry's attentions very much.
Back in their room, clean and dry and wearing the green t-shirt Harry had given him – it seemed much longer ago than the twelve days it had been since they had stayed with the Grangers – Draco spooned up behind Harry in the bed and put his arms around him. Harry made no objection, only wriggled a bit to get into a more comfortable position, then put his hand over Draco's. It was odd, Draco mused; he felt protective and protected, both at once, wrapped around Harry like this.
"We've nothing to do for the next few days except brew and test those potions, have we?"
Harry's shoulders moved in a shrug. "You were going to send off for those tickets to the Cannons-Puddlemere match, but that's not exactly a major time commitment. Why?"
"Mm. Just thinking about how to fill the all those empty hours." Draco rubbed his thumb over the thin cotton of Harry's pyjama shirt, finding one nipple through the fabric.
A laugh quivered in Harry's voice as he said, "Yeah, I thought so. But we should do some practice with hexes and jinxes again, and counters to them. Haven't done that in more than a week. You ought to work on conjuring your Patronus, too." He sounded suddenly serious. "You never know, it could save your life – it has mine, more than once. But there should still be plenty of time for..." He trailed off and nudged his arse against Draco.
"For shagging. Good." It wasn't that Draco minded any of the rest; he acknowledged that under the circumstances it made good sense to keep in practice with both offensive and defensive magic. He just wanted to be sure that Harry was interested in keeping on having sex.
"You don't really think I'm likely to turn that down, do you? No more than you would, you great prat." Harry put his hand over Draco's and squeezed.
Draco supposed he should object to the insult, but he was seized by a yawn that nearly split his face in two, and the next thing he knew it was morning.
After breakfast he borrowed Harry's white owl and sent off for the Quidditch tickets, paying the extra Sickles needed to have them delivered to the Weasley house no later than Wednesday. The message he wrote to go with them was nothing elaborate, merely, In thanks for all your hospitality, Draco Malfoy. He watched the owl fly away and ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at his earring and giving a regretful sigh.
"I wish we could go, too," Harry said.
"You could," Draco pointed out. "I could easily order one more ticket tomorrow."
"No." Harry shook his head. "It wouldn't be right. We'll do it someday, though, after... after everything's over."
"Would you go with just me, not with all the Weasleys along?"
"Of course," said Harry, looking at him strangely.
Draco nodded. He stopped himself from thinking wistfully of going on a proper date with Harry – just spending time together, having fun. Even if it weren't dangerous, he'd have to think twice. A Malfoy, publicly queer? He could almost see the headlines in the Prophet. Perhaps it was for the best that they had no choice right not. "Of course. Right. Well, shall we get on with the potions, then? As the first step toward 'everything being over,' as you put it."
Working on the various potions took less than an hour of the morning, and then Harry suggested they adjourn to the back garden to practice their hexes.
"Patronus this afternoon, perhaps," he said.
That was fine with Draco. He was a little nervous about the Patronus charm, even though he'd managed to conjure his successfully before. But it was distinctly more difficult than the average jinx or countercurse, that was for certain.
He managed to catch Harry off-guard with a well-placed Jellylegs Jinx almost immediately, but a Stinging Hex brushed his own leg shortly after, leaving it tingling and feeling raw. Draco ignored the pain and kept firing a steady stream of hexes at Harry, both of them dodging around the overgrown garden, using the half-wild shrubs and unpruned trees for cover. Harry nearly fell over a bronze statue of a fox that was hidden by a mass of unkempt ivy, and Draco paused to let him recover his balance.
"Don't do that." Harry frowned and cast a Body-Bind Curse that Draco was unable to dodge; he fell over and glared as best he could given that he could hardly see any higher than Harry's knees. "If your enemy has trouble, take advantage of it. Finite Incantatem."
Draco exhaled and scrambled to his feet, then moved to sit on a stained marble bench. A good thing it was marble, not wood, or it would long ago have rotted away.
"I know." And he did know; he had heard the same thing from childhood. "It's just... it's hard for me to treat you like an enemy now." More than once he'd felt an inexplicable hesitation as he readied a hex to send at Harry, especially those that caused the recipient physical discomfort, like the Conjunctivitis Curse. "Maybe the Vow is having some effect, I'm not sure."
"That could be." Harry sat down next to him. "You know far more about Unbreakable Vows than I do, so I'll take your word on it."
"I don't know that much, just what's commonly understood. What I really ought to do is write down what I said – I think I can remember the exact words, and maybe Hermione could double-check, and you too – and analyze it carefully, see what possible ambiguities and loopholes there might be." Draco smiled at Harry's expression of horrified dismay. "Come on, Harry, didn't six years of study teach you that magic may be largely an art involving inborn ability, but it requires a certain amount of precision as well for true success? No wonder you never took Arithmancy."
"If I ever need Arithmancy for anything, I'll get Hermione to help me," Harry grumbled. "Or you. I've done just fine so far with my own methods; I've stood up to Voldemort more than once already, as you know."
"Yes, well, it won't be just him, it'll be all his Death Eaters too, when you confront him. Or so I would bet." Those Death Eaters would doubtless include Lucius Malfoy. Draco swallowed hard at the thought, and looked down.
Harry seemed to have guessed what Draco was thinking. "The only person I have to destroy – the only one I want to – is Voldemort himself. I'd rather not fight Death Eaters if it's not necessary, and I certainly don't want to kill them; without him they're not nearly the same threat. I don't think. Your parents – your father – well, you know him, I don't. What's he likely to do?"
"If you defeat You-Know-Who?" Draco gave a weak chuckle. Given that I'm working to help you now, I imagine he'll try to claim that was his intention all along, that he was forced to do what he did under the Imperius Curse. Just as he did in the last war."
"Is it true? Was he under Imperius then? Is he now?" Harry's eyes were serious, if hard to see as the sunlight reflected off his glasses.
Draco raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. "I doubt it. But I can't exactly prove it one way or the other." He sighed. "I don't want You-Know-Who to win, you know that. I want you to, and I'm sworn now to help you. But neither do I want my father to rot in Azkaban, Dementors or no."
"That's understandable," Harry said. "If my parents were in a situation like that, it'd be awfully hard to decide what to do. Very hard to decide to choose a different loyalty from theirs." He made a gesture as if he wanted to take Draco's hand, but didn't quite finish it, and it was Draco who reached to take Harry's, instead. "So... thanks. For coming to me. Trusting me."
"Yeah. Well." Draco was quiet, his thumb stroking over Harry's wrist, thinking of his parents, trying not to think that he might never see them again. He couldn't completely abandon them and their ideals, the love of family they'd taught him, whatever happened... even if now he was fighting against the madman that Lucius Malfoy had chosen to follow. "Harry?"
"What?"
"If it... if it comes to that, would you do what you could to keep me safe?"
"Of course." Harry sounded indignant. "Why would you think anything else? What else have I been doing for the past fortnight?"
"I know. But... my parents? If there were fighting, but they – well, my father, I can't see my mother in battle – if he didn't actually attack you, what would you do?" Draco asked.
Harry shrugged. "I'd probably try to Stupefy or Body-Bind anyone who didn't seem like a direct threat. Easier, for one thing, and for another I don't know for certain who really does support Voldemort wholeheartedly and who might be a spy – besides Snape – or pressured into it or genuinely under an Imperius. But anyone who attacks me or my friends... well, I'd fight back with whatever I could muster up."
Draco nodded. He knew that Harry wouldn't – couldn't – promise not to harm the elder Malfoys. He wouldn't, in Harry's place. There were too many unpredictable possibilities. Lucius Malfoy would have no qualms about attacking Harry, Draco was certain of that.
"But," said Harry.
"But what?"
Now Harry flushed and hesitated. "The Vow you took," he said. "If your father tried to curse me, and you were there – what would you do?"
"I would... I'd try to deflect the curse, or counter it." Draco could say that with certainty.
"What if the only thing you could do was to hex your father in return, though?" said Harry in an unhappy voice. "Or if you didn't know it was him doing it? Those masks and hats and robes are enough to disguise anyone."
"That's why I need to recall the exact wording of the Vow, write it down, memorize it to make absolutely sure of what it requires. Remember, it's my own life at stake here, Harry. If I break that Vow, I will die – and my understanding is that it's not a pleasant death, it's feels something like burning and slow suffocation," Draco said.
Harry shuddered and said, "I wish I'd known that. I don't think I'd have let you take the Vow at all."
"You couldn't have stopped me very easily. I wanted to take it, and I knew the risks," said Draco firmly. "Now. Let's practice summoning Patronuses instead, shall we? I don't really want to talk about this any more right now, it's far too dismal on such a beautiful day." Working on a spell he was unsure of suddenly sounded easier than trying to work out how to save his family.
"Okay." Harry sounded relieved. "Do you remember how to do it?"
"Think of a really happy memory, and the incantation is Expecto Patronum." Draco pulled out his wand. "Is the Patronus always in the same form?"
"Generally, although if there's some major upheaval in your life that can be reflected in the form of the Patronus. It happened to your cousin Tonks, but I don't think it's very common," said Harry.
"So I should expect it to be a badger, then. Oh well." It wasn't exactly what Draco would have hoped for. He'd have liked something a bit showier, like, well, a dragon – that would be appropriate – or perhaps a chimera, or at least a wildcat. A badger seemed so... ordinary. Like something that Weasley might have, or even Longbottom, if either of them could conjure a Patronus to begin with.
"I'd imagine so. Are you ready?"
"Yes." A happy thought – Draco's mind went unerringly to the night before, to the way he had felt when Harry was inside him, those green eyes locked on his own and shining with love and desire. That thought ought to be happy enough to conjure two Patronuses, Draco considered. He gripped his wand and concentrated. "Expecto Patronum."
A quiver of air, a flash, and the silver form of the badger appeared, raising his great furry head to gaze at Draco, the white tips of his ears fairly shimmering.
"Oh, well done," crowed Harry, delight clear in his voice. "First try this time, well done!"
"What next?" asked Draco, his own throat harsh with the effort he'd made.
"Well, there's nothing here you need it to protect you from," Harry said. "The only other thing I know of is sending it to summon help, but who would you send it to?"
"I'm not sure." Draco watched as his Patronus moved around the garden, feeling oddly reluctant to let it go. "It wouldn't be prudent to send it to my father, that's certain, or my mother, either." He strongly suspected that Narcissa Malfoy knew that he was alive and well as of the time Professor Snape had sent him off, but she would be subject to a good deal of pressure from Voldemort if it were known that her son had contacted her in any way. "You're already right here." He grinned wryly as Harry's eyes widened. "Maybe Professor Snape."
"Humph. Well." Harry raked his fingers through his hair, standing it even more on end than usual. "If you want to practice that part, sending for Snape would not be something I'd be keen on. I could go to the far end of the garden, maybe behind a tree or something, and you could try to get your Patronus to come find me. All you have to do is concentrate on the person you want to contact, on how much you need them, and tell it to go."
"That shouldn't be too difficult," said Draco. His tone was innocent, but he was unable to completely suppress a smirk.
Harry raised an eyebrow at him, but went off to stand behind an enormous cabbage rosebush with wormy-looking yellow flowers while Draco made the attempt.
The badger seemed almost to glow with a pale nimbus, difficult to see in the daylight, as Draco looked it in the eye. I need Harry, he thought at it. Harry. Merlin, I really do – he's helped keep me from being found by Voldemort and the Death Eaters, it was his idea to try removing the Dark Mark, he makes me feel like I'm actually worthwhile... he said he loves me. I don't know what I'd do without him, now. I need Harry. "Please, Patronus," Draco whispered. "Bring him."
Slowly, very slowly, the badger's head dipped, and then it disappeared. Disappointment made Draco's stomach lurch, almost sickening him, before he realized that it had appeared again at the far end of the garden, nudging at Harry's hand.
"It worked!" Draco shouted, elated, even though Harry knew perfectly well that it had, and was grinning, walking back along the brick pathway.
"I knew you could do it." Harry's eyes shone. As he brushed a light kiss against Draco's cheek, the badger vanished once more.
"But I don't quite understand one thing," said Draco. "If I get my Patronus to go to you, or whomever, by thinking about how much I need your help, how would you know it was mine, and more important, how would you know how to find me and help me?"
Harry frowned. "I suppose I'd have to know it was your Patronus to begin with. But knowing what it wanted or where you were? That's more difficult." He pushed his lips out in thought and Draco had an urge to grab him and kiss him. "They're animal forms, so it's not like they can talk, and they're not entirely corporeal... I wonder, though, if they could carry a written message? I mean, when a person Apparates he's not quite physical for an instant, but everything he's wearing goes along with him."
"Unless he Splinches himself," Draco said automatically.
"Yeah, true. But that's the idea. The Patronus seems to do a kind of Apparition so it might be able to carry something. Do you want to try again, see if you can have yours bring me a bit of parchment, say?"
"I think you should try it with your own Patronus," said Draco. He felt somehow that it was not right to pretend to his Patronus that he needed help when he didn't. Once, perhaps, to make certain that it would work. Maybe he was treating it too much as if it were real, not something that only existed through his magic – but being respectful felt right.