HP fic: Better Than Revenge, ch. 39: In the Bedroom [Harry/Draco, adult]
Title: Better Than Revenge chapter 39, "In the Bedroom" Author: celandineb Fandom: HP Pairing: Harry/Draco Rating: adult, just barely Summary: When their test of a Horcrux-dissolving potion goes awry, Draco has to call on Hermione for help, and Harry has a significant talk with his friends.
When the alarm rang, Harry tried to ignore it, but he couldn't ignore Draco's pokes in his side. He pulled on one of Sirius' old dressing gowns over his pyjamas – it was cold in the cellar at night – and followed Draco silently downstairs.
Thank goodness that the potion only interrupted one night's sleep, Harry thought, adding the sassafras. He glanced at Draco, whose face looked as tired as Harry felt, but who seemed undisturbed by having to get up in the middle of the night. Was it that Draco was compelled by his Vow, or did he actually find it satisfying to do such work? Harry couldn't tell. On the way back to their room he took Draco's hand and felt the pulse beating in Draco's wrist.
Draco turned to close the door. The pale light that came through the window caught his thin face, making the bones stand out in sharp relief like a skull crowned with a wig of silvery hair.
He would die for me. He might die for me. The realization struck Harry suddenly. That was what the Vow was about, wasn't it? Draco putting his own life at stake if he didn't keep his word. And he had done so for Harry, despite their years of enmity, despite his family's traditions, despite the fact that they still disagreed about so much – they might not discuss those ideas often, but Harry hadn't forgotten. The sheer weight of Draco's commitment made him shudder; when Draco slipped into bed beside him, he could only pull the other boy close, kiss him again and again, unable to express the emotions he felt in any other way. At last, reluctantly, he let go, knowing that otherwise neither of them would sleep, and they had to get up to make the last addition of boomslang skin.
"You know, we could test this one today, even though the other won't be ready until tomorrow," said Draco as he stirred.
Harry thought it over. On the one hand he was anxious to find something that would destroy the locket Horcrux as quickly as possible, but on the other... "I want to wait. I know logically it'll make no difference, but it feels like having two to try at once would increase the chances for success."
Grinning, Draco shrugged. "It's illogical all right, but you're the one in charge, so whatever you like."
He agreed, too, to Harry's suggestion that they practice hexes once again, with the proviso that in the afternoon they would try to remember the specific wording of the Unbreakable Vow, so that he wouldn't accidentally go beyond its limits. Harry had no quarrel with that.
After an invigorating practice session in the garden – Harry was sure that they were both improving, and Draco was noticeably less hesitant than he'd been the previous day – and lunch, they talked about Harry's plans.
"I'd like to have Hermione try to reconstruct Voldemort's movements before and during the last war," Harry explained. "That might give us some ideas for places where he might have hidden the other Horcruxes. The problem is that even if she gets permission to look into Ministry records, it'll take months."
"What would you do in the meantime?" Draco looked concerned.
"I'm not sure."
"Well," said Draco, "you asked once before if I'd ever overheard anything that might be useful. I haven't been able to remember anything much. But... there could be things in my father's rooms at home – hidden, no doubt, and maybe with curses protecting them too. We'd both have to go look."
"You'd do that?" It couldn't be easy for Draco to make such an offer. Swearing fidelity to Harry was one thing; that could be seen as a clever ploy, to put one Malfoy on each side in this war. Searching Lucius Malfoy's rooms was a far more personal betrayal.
Draco nodded. "There might not be anything of any use, mind you. And I'd want to be sure that I knew the Vow accurately before we went, just in case."
"Oh, of course. What did you want me to do to help?"
They ended up in the library, each of them trying to recall the exact words as best he could, Draco's quill scritch-scritching as he scribbled down the phrases. Harry was ashamed at how little he remembered. Something so important to both of them, and he obviously hadn't bothered to pay attention.
"Send it to Hermione," he told Draco when they'd done their best. "I don't know how she manages, but she has a wonderful memory for this sort of thing."
A little reluctantly, Draco wrote the letter. Harry wondered if his hesitation had the same origins as Harry's own embarrassment. To make Draco feel better, he said softly, "I'll make it worth your while," and was delighted when Draco's expression shifted from gloom to pleasure.
Harry didn't bother suggesting they go upstairs once Hedwig had departed with the rolled-up parchment tied to her leg. He simply pulled Draco down with him onto the library carpet, and concentrated on finding ways to keep that smile on Draco's face. If Draco had been this relaxed and happy back at Hogwarts, Ron's comparison to a ferret would have been completely inaccurate – well, aside from the time Draco had been actually Transfigured. Harry hid his grin at the memory against Draco's neck.
That evening Harry convinced Draco to play wizarding chess instead of Gobstones, for a change. Somewhat to his surprise Harry won three games in a row. When Draco suggested they could play something else, Harry's first impulsive response was, "Don't like to lose, eh?"
He meant it as a joke, really, and regretted it even before the hurt had settled on Draco's face. Draco had already lost – his parents, his home, his future. That Harry had lost those things too didn't make any difference.
"I'm sorry," he apologized before Draco could speak. "That was really unfair of me. I chose chess; what would you like to do instead?"
Draco was visibly trying to stay calm. "How about another glass of wine, and I could maybe read to you, instead of playing games?"
No one had ever read to Harry, as far back as he could recall, and it sounded rather nice. The book Draco chose was about King Arthur and Merlin, which Harry enjoyed. Draco read several chapters, and then Harry took over once Draco's throat began to tire.
As Harry read, Draco leaned against him, slowly slipping down so that his head was on Harry's lap. Harry held the book in his left hand, turning the pages from the bottom with his thumb and little finger, and rested his right hand on Draco's shoulder, that thumb resting against Draco's neck. He could feel the blood pulsing under the skin as if trying to escape.
He worried that Draco might still be too annoyed by his thoughtless remark to want to do any fooling around when they went up to bed, but Draco evidently never considered that possibility, reciprocating Harry's tentative advances with fervor. They clung together, sweaty, hips bucking under each other's hands, and if Draco was speechless now, Harry made up for it by chanting Draco's name again and again until he felt Draco arch and moan beneath him, spilling sticky semen over them both, pulling at Harry's prick with glittering-eyed intensity until Harry came too.
The following morning Dobby woke them with the news that Hedwig had returned with a message from Hermione.
"What time is it?" Harry reluctantly dragged his head from the pillow.
"Nearly eight o'clock. Is Master Harry not ready to eat the breakfast Dobby has prepared?" Dobby was very nearly dancing in his worried earnestness.
"Yes, all right. Go give Hedwig some sausage and we'll be right down," said Harry. He nudged Draco. "C'mon, lazy, we can test those two potions today, remember?"
Pulling on the first clothes that came to hand, he headed downstairs while Draco was washing up. He fed Hedwig bits from his plate as he waited for Draco, then handed him the still-sealed letter. Draco looked surprised, but opened it and read quickly through the message before pushing it back to Harry.
As he'd suspected, Hermione had remembered the words of Draco's Vow more accurately than either of them, and she inquired to make sure that there'd been no lingering effects from the removal of the Dark Mark from Draco's arm.
"No, although I'll be more certain there won't be any when it's been rather longer since You-Know-Who summoned me," Draco told Harry.
"Call him Voldemort," Harry said in sudden decision. He'd always disliked the wizarding habit of avoiding the name, and he knew Dumbledore would have agreed. "The fear of a name can have as much power as the name himself. Or call him Riddle, if you'd rather. But use his name, don't avoid it."
"Riddle. Maybe I can do that. I'll try to remember."
"I'll remind you. It helps me remember that he's just a person; evil, no question, but someone who can be defeated."
Harry felt relieved to have hinted at his fears when Draco said soberly, "I understand."
They ate mostly in silence after that, the few words exchanged limited mostly to things like, "Pass the jam?" Draco was rereading Hermione's letter. Harry thought with mixed anxiety and hope about the potions they were to test. As soon as Draco lifted the last bite of egg to his mouth, Harry asked if he was ready.
Harry had the locket with him, so they went straight down to the makeshift laboratory, looking less temporary now with all their supplies there and two cauldrons simmering, the others set aside.
"I'll try this one first," Harry decided, uncovering the cauldron with the potion Draco had found in Moste Potente Potions. He pulled out the locket and held his breath as he dipped it into the viscous fluid, but nothing happened. He scowled, disappointed though he'd tried not to expect too much.
"We can try some of the other recipes, remember. Even if they take longer or use more unusual ingredients, there's time – and we could search for the other Horcruxes meanwhile." Draco's words were irritatingly reasonable.
"Yeah, and there's one more to test today, I know, I know. Here goes nothing."
He let the locket drop into the second cauldron. Again, nothing happened for a moment. Just as Harry was pulling it out again by the chain, the surface of the potion began to roil and bubble and let off a burst of yellow vapor that Harry couldn't avoid breathing. He choked, feeling the chain slip from his suddenly-numb fingers. His legs went rubbery and as he collapsed on the floor, he thought he heard Draco calling his name. Before he could try to answer, darkness overtook him.
"It shouldn't be taking this long."
"He breathed in the fumes. That's going to have permeated his body differently from a case of ingestion or a contact poison."
"Did his eyelids move?"
"Harry? Harry, try to open your eyes if you can hear me."
There was a foul taste in Harry's mouth; he could feel something on his tongue and tried to turn his head to spit it out.
"Leave the bezoar there."
A hand touched his cheek. Not Draco's. That was Hermione's voice, too. What was she doing here? Harry's eyelids seemed to be gummed together, but he forced them open.
Hermione's face floated in front of him, looking worried, but she smiled at him in a relieved sort of way. "Don't try to move quite yet."
"Wha...?" he managed to croak out.
"Or talk." There was Draco, squeezing Harry's hand.
"You breathed in some fumes when the potion dissolved the Horcrux. I'm not sure why the two reacted together like that; if it was the fact it was a Horcrux, or something about the locket itself. You collapsed. Draco sent his Patronus to me to bring a bezoar. It's in your mouth now, and I'm sure it tastes nasty, but keep sucking it. I came as fast as I could – lucky thing Mrs. Weasley had the bezoar, she says she keeps one around for emergencies – but for a while we weren't sure it had been fast enough. You nearly died."
Another squeeze from Draco. Harry wanted to say something positive about Draco managing to send a message to Hermione with his Patronus, but his throat was too constricted to say so many words just then. He blinked a few times and tried to return the pressure. It was still hard to see and he realized his glasses were missing. He squinted at Hermione, blinking again, and grunted.
"Oh – here." She reached over and settled his glasses back onto his face. "We levitated you up here as soon as your breathing was mostly back to normal; it seemed like it would be more comfortable than that stone floor."
Now Harry could see clearly that he was in the bedroom, propped up on several pillows. He succeeded in giving her a nod, and Hermione smiled.
"Ron's downstairs – can he come up and see you?"
Harry looked at her, wanting to ask why Ron wasn't in the room already, whether Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were there too. He opened his mouth to try to speak, but only coughed, nearly spitting out the bezoar.
"He's really worried, Harry. I didn't tell Mrs. Weasley what happened, just that you needed a bezoar right away for something, but of course Ron insisted on coming with me. Not Ginny, though, since she can't Apparate yet. Ron was checking to see if the locket was completely destroyed while Draco and I brought you up here. Shall I bring him now?"
Slowly Harry said, "Yes," through the rasp in his throat.
He let go of Draco's hand as Hermione rose and went over to the door, flinging it open and calling, "Ron! He's conscious – he's going to be all right – come up here!"
When Harry released his hold, Draco looked at him expressionlessly, then he, too, stood and moved away from the bed, so that he was looking out the window into the back garden. Ron burst into the room.
"You're really okay? Merlin, but I was worried. Thought you were dead, mate, thought we'd made it here too late." Ron thumped Harry gently on the shoulder. "Guess I have to give Malfoy some credit, huh?" he added with less enthusiasm.
"Definitely," Harry managed to say before he was seized by another fit of coughing.
"Be sure to keep that bezoar under your tongue, Harry, and try not to talk," said Hermione.
She sounded so matter-of-fact and bossy and Hermione that Harry laughed in the middle of his cough. Eyes streaming, he nodded as she frowned at him.
"It might take another hour or even more before it's fully counteracted the poison," she said. "We'll stay until you're sure to be fine."
"I'll just go down and clear up the mess in the cellar," said Draco abruptly. Without another glance at Harry, he left, the door snicking quietly shut behind him.
"What's eating his lunch?" Ron muttered.
Harry bit his lip but didn't try to answer, not with the stare that Hermione was giving him.
"Anyhow, I poked through that cauldron, and there was nothing of the locket left in it as far as I could tell. One more Horcrux gone, Harry. That's great," said Ron, plopping down on Harry's bed. "D'you know what you're going to do next? Oh, never mind, you can tell us later, don't try to talk. We'll amuse you for a while, you rest."
For the next half-hour Ron chattered excitedly about Quidditch and the match on Saturday, and Hermione discussed the research she'd been doing on various curses that she thought Harry might find useful, "Whenever it comes to that."
Finally Harry said, "Could I have something to drink? The bezoar's nearly dissolved and it tastes horrible."
"Oh." Hermione's hands flew to her mouth. "Of course. Ron, would you?"
"Dobby's here," Harry told them.
"Right, I'll go get him to make some tea or something. I'm sure Harry's paying him, Hermione, don't look like that. Back in a bit." Ron disappeared into the hallway.
"Harry, is everything okay? Other than this accident?" Hermione's expression was serious. "With Draco, I mean?"
"It has been." Harry felt his face grow hot. "Um. You know."
"You're going to have to tell Ron sometime," she pointed out. "Sooner better than later."
"Yeah, but... I hate to hurt Ginny, and if I tell Ron, she's bound to find out," he said softly.
"I don't think you have a choice. It's not fair to anyone if you're not honest about what's happening. You love him, don't you?"
Hearing Hermione ask the question straight out made Harry's throat grow tight. He nodded, swallowing hard.
"Didn't Professor Dumbledore tell you that the weapon you had, but Voldemort didn't, was love?"
Harry nodded again. Close enough.
"Well, then – it seems to me that even if it's not necessarily what either of you intended, you should hang onto it." Hermione gave him a little smile. "Ginny's my friend, and I want her to be happy... but if you're in love with Draco, then she wouldn't be happy with you. So. Letting her think you still love her when you don't –"
"But I do," Harry interrupted. "It's not that I don't feel anything for Ginny, it's just..." He trailed off helplessly.
Hermione shook her head. "You have to choose; I don't think that either Ginny or Draco would be happy with the situation if you tried to hold onto both of them."
She was right, of course. Harry might have liked that, but it wasn't possible. He sighed. "Yeah."
"So tell Ron, soon," said Hermione.
"Tell me what?" Ron asked, pushing the door further open with his shoulder and carrying in a tray on which sat several cups of steaming tea and a plate of biscuits. "Dobby wanted to bring this up, but I wouldn't let him," he said, holding the tray out for Harry to take a cup. "What are you supposed to tell me?"
Was it better to tell Ron now? Harry tried to think, his head still aching a little with the aftermath of the poison. Probably. Draco wasn't there. If Ron were upset, and he probably would be, he might well blame Draco, even though it wasn't Draco's fault... fault wasn't the right word anyway. Not for something so good. With an effort, Harry pulled his attention back to Ron.
"Sit down. Hermione, could you shut the door?" Harry took a drink of his tea as she did and felt the warmth seeping through him.
Ron looked at Harry curiously, reaching for a chocolate-dipped biscuit. "Okay, so tell me."
"It's about Draco," Harry began.
"This accident today? Did he have something to do with that?" Ron's fists clenched. "I knew you shouldn't have stayed here alone with him, that little..."
"No," said Harry and Hermione simultaneously.
"Think, Ron – Draco couldn't have caused it. He took an Unbreakable Vow; you heard him yourself," Hermione said.
"Then what? What's he done?"
"He... I... we're together, Ron," said Harry in a rush.
"You're what?"
"They're... they're going out. Like you and I are." Hermione's voice was high, and Harry was grateful that she'd spoken because Ron turned to stare at her for a moment instead of glaring at Harry.
"Harry and Malfoy?"
"Draco," Harry corrected. Ron swivelled back to look at him.
"You must be bloody joking. That smarmy git?" Ron was nearly yelling now. "I don't believe it. He must have put some kind of charm on you... a curse, more likely. What are you thinking, Harry? How could you do something like that, do that to Ginny?"
"Ron, please."
"Please what? Please sit here and listen to Harry tell me that he broke up with my sister to do I-don't-want-to-know-what with a fucking Slytherin, a fucking Death Eater, not to mention someone who's made all of our lives miserable for the past six years? Bloody hell!" Ron had jumped up and was pacing angrily around the room. "I wouldn't have thought you could be so stupid. Yeah, stupid. Trusting Malfoy?"
"Shut up!" Harry surprised himself by shouting. He surprised Ron, too, who stopped dead in the middle of waving his arms. Hermione gave a squeak, looking from Ron to Harry and back.
"Don't, Ron. It just happened. I didn't plan this, and I'm not doing it to hurt Ginny. I wouldn't, and you should know that." His voice was shaking, partly still from the aftereffects of the poison but mostly from anger.
Ron flinched.
"You don't have to become best friends with Draco, but don't call me stupid for liking him." Harry held back from reminding Ron about his relationship with Lavender Brown, hardly an example of picking a person to date with whom you had a lot in common. "Would you be so upset if it were – I don't know – Pansy Parkinson? Is it because he's a Slytherin, or because he's a bloke?"
"Harry." Ron's voice cracked. "It's Malfoy."
"Ron – please. Please don't make me say something we'll both regret," said Harry quietly. "Draco saved my life today. He's pledged his own life to me. Whatever happened in the past, and yeah, there was plenty of hostility to go around, I don't deny that – it's over now. He's not the same person he used to be. If I can forgive him, can't you?"
"I just... I can't believe you've changed this much in a fortnight," said Ron, sitting down again and absentmindedly picking up another biscuit. Harry relaxed a little bit. "I'd never have figured you for a shirt-lifter. Oh, Merlin." Ron's eyes went wide. "You weren't... you didn't..."
"Don't worry, Ron." Harry laughed, a chuckle that nearly turned into another round of coughing. He cleared his throat. "I haven't spent the last few years staring at your arse, if that's what you're wondering."
"No, I mean, you did like Ginny, right? Circe's tits, you weren't pretending about that?"
Harry shook his head. "I did like her. I do like her. But right now... this feels more right, to me. I guess I like both girls and boys, is all."
"Is all, he says." Ron sighed. "I don't get it, but that's hardly new, is it?"
"As long as you don't say we can't be friends any more, does it matter?"
"Yeah. Well."
For a minute or two there was silence. Ron ate his biscuit with a kind of concentrated intensity, not looking at either Harry or Hermione, who exchanged helpless glances.
"What do you think, Hermione?" Ron asked eventually.
"I think what matters most is that Harry feels able to keep on going with the search for the Horcruxes, so that someday he can confront Voldemort," said Hermione. "Because if he doesn't, then none of the rest of it makes much difference. Besides – if we couldn't accept Harry wanting to be with Draco, that wouldn't be any better really than Draco being prejudiced against me for being Muggleborn." She shrugged slightly and took a ginger biscuit, the crunch of it loud under her teeth. "Since I was the one he sent for when Harry needed help, I'd say he's past that now, mostly at least."
"When you put it like that... I suppose you're right."
"Is she ever not right?" Harry joked, and all three of them laughed together, much to his relief. It would still be hard to tell Ginny, but he realized that if Ron had been completely unaccepting, that would have been worse.
"It has been known to happen," said Hermione. "Just not often." She winked and they laughed again before she asked, "How do you feel now, Harry?"
"A lot better." Harry stretched tentatively. "I could probably get up."
"All right, but don't overstrain yourself."
They hadn't taken off his clothes, just his shoes, when they brought him up and put him in bed, so within moments Harry was on the stairs, followed by Ron and Hermione.
"Use the handrail," Hermione said in a worried tone.
"Leave him be, he can manage."
Harry didn't stop at the foot of the stairs, but kept going, along to the narrower staircase down to the cellar. He could hear small clinks and rustles ahead – Draco, clearing up as he'd said he would. Thankfully it looked as though the cauldron hadn't tipped over or anything of the sort; Draco was tidying up all of the ingredients, organizing them in neat rows on the rickety shelves behind where they'd brewed.
"Draco," Harry said, and after a pause during which he saw Draco's shoulders tighten, the other boy turned around.
"Yes?" Draco looked calm, but his voice held a brittle edge. "You're all right then?"
"I wouldn't be, without you," said Harry. Leaving Ron and Hermione standing back in the doorway, he walked up to Draco and put his arms around him. Draco jerked in startlement.
"What...?" He was tense in Harry's embrace, peering past him at the other two.
"You're the most important person in my life right now, Draco, and not just because you saved it," said Harry, low. "I'm sorry."
Draco pulled back a little, his eyes searching Harry's face, and he nodded slowly.
"Okay, Harry." He reached up to touch Harry's cheek and brought their lips together in a brief kiss, then broke away and gave just a hint of a smile as he took Harry's hand.
With Draco by his side, Ron and Hermione behind ready to support him, and beyond Grimmauld Place the Order of the Phoenix and all his friends who'd been part of Dumbledore's Army – Harry felt hope surge within him as he turned toward the future.