Who Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy What These three words will change our lives forever. When Tuesday, Late afternoon Where Near the lake, within sight of Albus Potter’s fishing boat. Status/Rating In Progress / PG-13 (Snogging?)
Don't tear me down for all I need Make my heart a better place Give me something I can believe Don't tear me down You've opened the door now, don't let it close
March. The month that’s meant to come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. The winter finally begins to end and Spring lifts her sleepy head. Persephone, perhaps, returns from her stay with Hades in the underworld to wake nature up from it’s slumber. It was a time for new beginnings, for the old to die away; a time to bury the hatchet.
A time to realise forgotten dreams.
Draco saw Harry standing there at the edge of the lake, doing his best to pick up flat stones and skip them over the water. He narrowed his grey eyes a little as he watched him, knowing so much about the man in front of him. Knowing so much more than anyone else.
Hands in the pocket of his jacket, his decent from the road to where Potter stood by the water was a slow one. He kept his head high, and his face rather neutral as he approached without his usual arrogant grace. He walked down to stand beside Harry in much the same way that he had a few days before, seeing him on the street corner. He said nothing while Harry picked up another stone and sent it skipping across the still waters of the thawing lake.
“Nicely done, Harry.”
Both of his sons and Sirius had so far been impersonated. Regulus claimed it hadn’t been him who had assaulted Victoire. It all seemed tied together, didn’t it? Because no matter what Victoire said, it wasn’t in Regulus’s nature to go attacking people, much less people he considered his friends. The problem was that Al, Jimmy and Sirius all found ways to keep from being held accountable; people believed them when they said it hadn’t truly been them. But Regulus wasn’t getting the same treatment. It wasn’t fair, but Harry supposed that it was so removed in time that people weren’t looking at both situations the same way.
But it hadn’t been Regulus. It hadn’t been. Harry picked up another rock and made it skip on the surface of the lake as he considered how he could prove it, when Draco’s voice surprised him. Harry gave a bit of a jump and turned his head to look at the man, the rocks he still held cradled loosely in his finger.
“Thanks.” He returned his attention to the lake and selected another rock.
Malfoy reached out a hand and caught Harry’s arm before he could throw the rock, his fingers tightening on the other man’s sleeve. There was so much that had to be said now. Those things that had only been hinted at in journals. He had to make clear for Harry everything that hadn’t really been a joke. He had to tell him just how much he loved him, just how much he’d always loved him, and now was the time. Now was finally the time.
“Harry.” He whispered, taking a step closer to the older man. “Harry, I haven’t been honest with you. I’ve tried to be, but it never came out right, and I just--I just feel like I owe you too much for there to be any secrets between us.”
Harry looked over at his arm and Draco’s hand on it, before looking over at the other man’s face. Not that he’d ever believed that Draco was being completely honest with him, but what hadn’t been said, he’d assumed would remain unsaid. Perhaps he didn’t know Draco as well as he thought he did. As well as he liked to think he did. Because Harry had never considered him the sort to fret and to let these sorts of things fester until guilt or something like it forced Draco to fess up.
“Okay,” he said uncertainly, waiting for Draco to go on. Whatever it was, Harry wondered if he even wanted to know.
“I think the reason that I was so mean to Ginny when I first arrived here, Harry, was because she didn’t deserve you. Because she took you for granted and didn’t realise the incredible person that she married. You are nothing short of perfect, to me, Harry. I mean that. You’ve gone through so much, so fucking much that the whole world gives you credit for but that the people who are closest to you never seem to. You’re the strongest person I know, the strongest person I’ve ever met in my lifetime, and that’s why your opinion has always meant so much to me. That’s why I wanted to help you so badly in overcoming Grindelwald, that’s why I believed everything you said about him and that’s why I wanted to fight with you until the bitter end, but that isn’t--that isn’t the only reason.” Draco didn’t seem to even think about what it was he said next. “When you asked me, Harry, when you thought I had feelings for Severus Snape, and you asked me if it wasn’t him, then who was it--I told you. You didn’t believe me, but I told you the truth. It was you, it’s always been you. Since I was--since fourth year, I imagine. That’s when I first felt it. I remember the moment--the very moment that it struck me, and there was no denying it. It was the second challenge and you’d just gotten out of the lake and---Merlin, I can’t tell you how many times I thought about how different everything might have been if The Dark Lord hadn’t returned that June. Because I’d wanted to mend things between you and I, I’d wanted to talk to you, and be around you but that--He--he made that impossible. Our destinies have always been so closely intertwined, but never in the way I wanted. Never in the way I felt I needed them to be.”
Harry stared. There was little else he could think to do in light of everything he’d just been told. He could feel the grip Draco had on his arm by the warmth of his hand through his shirt. Why was he telling him this? Why would he tell him this? Particularly if it wasn’t true...
But since when did Draco give compliments like this? Not that this was entirely new - the man had said a lot of the ‘strong person’ stuff in the journals, but this was... This tied it in to...
You’re dating my son, he wanted to say. You’re in love with my son, not with me. Instead, all Harry managed to say was, “Huh?”
“Oh, Harry.” A sad kind of smile crept across Draco’s face, and his other hand went up to touch the side of Potter’s neck. He continued on like he’d read Harry’s mind, or at least read the expression on his face “I’m with Al. Or rather, I was with him because I couldn’t have you. He looks just like you, couldn’t you see that? After every time I’d touched you? Every time I’d moved close, or offered you a sacrifice. Every time I told you that you deserved to be happy--or every time I told you that I didn’t deserve it, that I could never be happy. I left him, we talked, Albus and I talked and I didn’t tell him any of this, of course, I just told him that we shouldn’t be together. I’m sorry, I know you told me never to hurt him and I didn’t want to, but it isn’t fair to be with someone when you’re in love with someone else. When you’ve always been in love with someone else.”
The hand moved from the side of Harry’s neck to his face, Draco’s pale thumb brushing across the stubble of Potter’s cheek as he continued.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, Harry.” Draco whispered, moving in closer. “I’ve wanted to tell you that no one could ever feel, about you, the way that I do. You said it yourself that you’ve never met anyone who understands you how I do and that’s because we’re the same. We’ve been through so much together, we’ve shared so many of the same experiences. That day--that day in my father’s house when I lied to him, when I lied to Bellatrix and told them both that I didn’t recognise you, it was all because I couldn’t imagine a world without you in it. It wasn’t heroics, it wasn’t because I knew helping you was the right thing to do, it was because I knew I couldn’t live without you.”
Malfoy wet his lips, searching Harry’s green eyes for a moment before adding, “I still can’t.”
There was nothing else for him to say, at least there wasn’t anything to be said with his words, anyway, and he knew that as he closed what remained of the gap between them, and pressed his lips against Harry’s.
Harry might have wanted to say something a few times, to interrupt Draco, because this was utterly ridiculous, but all he could think to say was ‘what?’ Every time Draco brought up a moment of their shared history, Harry’s memory served it up for comparison’s sake. It added up. And still, it didn’t. Harry turned his face away when Draco touched his cheek, but quickly returned it to position at his words. This added up but it didn’t--
There were suddenly lips on his. His first thought was what do I do? followed closely by what is he doing?. Eyes wide open and arms up defensively as though he’d been expecting an attack rather than a snog, Harry looked about ready to take flight.
Harry expected the kiss to end, for his feet to take him back a couple steps, his arms to put some serious distance between them. None of that happened. Why didn’t Draco stop? Could he see that he didn’t want this? That he was kissing him back and that he had Draco’s shoulder in a tight grip, keeping him in place, afraid that he might leave?
The fingers of Malfoy’s other hand snaked into Harry’s hair, and he held his head where it was as he deepened the kiss. This might be his only chance to do this, his only chance to feel what it was like to let go of everything he’d been holding back and restraining and just exist in this: the perfect moment. The kiss was as deliberate as it was passionate, but there remained a certain undercurrent there, one of need and of desperation. It didn’t feel like Draco was kissing Harry because he wanted to, but because there was nothing on earth that he need more than this.
Their lips broke for just a moment, just long enough for them to breath in each other’s air and for Draco to mutter the words, “I love you”, his mouth fluttering against Potter’s before he kissed him again.
Those words reached something in Harry, who returned Draco’s kiss with renewed fervor. It had been so long since he’d heard anyone say them.
The reality of the situation came crashing in a moment later. This was Malfoy. These were Malfoy lips and a Malfoy tongue and-- Harry took a step back and pushed Draco an arm’s length away by the hand on his shoulder. This was wrong. This was ridiculous! Absolutely preposterous, this was... impossible.
“Stop,” he said, a moment later. He sounded rather breathless, which wasn’t helping his cause. “We can’t-- You’re dating my son. And.” Harry shook his head. This was bad. This was wrong.
“I’m not anymore. I told you, I’m not with Albus anymore.” Draco wrapped his hands around Harry’s wrists, and then stroked his hands up the man’s arms. He bent Potter’s arms slowly and moved in close to him again, not to kiss him, but just to be near him. “It was a mistake, I thought I could get over you, but I love you too much--I was stupid, I am stupid, but I’ve never felt so sure or so strongly about anything in my life. Harry, I love you so much.”
“Don’t say that!” Harry jerked his arms out of Draco’s hold and took another few steps backwards and then to the side when the back of his foot connected with a rock submerged in snow. “Don’t say that. I--” He shook his head. This made no fucking sense. “I’m... not interested. Please, just-- Leave me alone.” He didn’t sound half certain.
“It makes perfect sense.” Draco pleaded. “It’s always made sense and you know it. If you think about it for just--just one moment you’ll know it’s true. I know that--I know this isn’t what you want to hear, not really--but what would you have me do? My whole life I’ve been living lie after lie after lie. Lies to be what my parents wanted me to be, lies to survive, lies even here in Lockewood because I was too afraid, but Harry from the moment I saw you here, the moment we talked and I realised you much you had in you to give--how much you were still giving. I know that--I know that after right now, after this moment, things can’t go back to how they were before with us, Harry, but I don’t want them to. Because facing heartbreak? At this point, it’s a whole lot easier than facing another day of wanting.”
Harry was staring, his mouth hanging open dumbly, hands out as though ready to catch a low flying ball, or else to keep the madman away. He was obviously struggling with words, but though none of them made it out, it was rather obvious what he wanted to say, given the slight but constant shake of the head.
The problem with all of this was that it was working. It shouldn’t have been. This was ridiculous, and anyway, he didn’t like men. Never had. Never would. This was utterly ridiculous, and if he had a knut for each time he’d thought that in the past five minutes...
“Draco...” He shook his head again, because it was clearly the only way he would communicate effectively. “I need you to leave. Right now.” Or better yet... Harry held a hand up between them, stepped around the rock and towards the trees. “I need... just go home. All right? Just... I need you to go home. And to think about this. And I’m going to go somewhere else. And think about this. Because this is fucking ridiculous and I’m sure that after a good nap, you’ll be right back to hating my guts. ‘Kay?” One might even say that Harry Potter looked scared. This was an unknown he didn’t want to know, an adventure he didn’t want to embark on and he was as likely to throw Draco into the lake than to let this conversation go any further.
Malfoy, for his part, looked completely and utterly gutted, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe because he couldn’t find the words, or maybe just because he’d say everything he needed to. He stood there, in silence, as Harry backed away and finally turned to head in the direction of the woods before turning himself, and walking back off towards the houses.