Carridwen

"So let go, just get in,
Oh, it's so amazing here.
It's alright,
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown." - "Let Go," Frou Frou

Harry's mind was a whirl of color and thoughtless motion as he walked down the streets of London from his flat, feeling the hiss of the brisk morning wind against his ears. The dull thud of his steps echoed against the approaching building, quickly glancing around before entering an alley beside it. Focusing on the dark stones before him, he sleepily tapped his wand against several stones, mimicking the pattern he'd been owled just before dawn.

The early owl hadn't been much disturbance, he considered, as Luna had been up early regardless, imploring him to experiment with a breakfast dish calling for fried potatoes and salmon.

Maybe the heavy use of hollandaise was what was getting to him? he wondered as he stepped through a strong mahogany door that had appeared.

His steps were heavy, his body felt weightless though, and he felt brief confusion. Was he walking through a dream? He stopped before continuing up the short stairwell behind the door and pinched his leg, just in case. The slight shock of pain jolted up through his hip, and he grimaced - but smiled, glad he was awake after all. If this was all a dream, then his morning would turn out to be very disappointing.

The stairs led to a sizable receptionist's office, where a tall woman with dark red hair sat tapping away at a muggle computer. She glanced up briefly, a look of irritation on her pointy features.

"Appointment?" Her tone was clipped, with just the hint of an American accent.

"Um, I believe it's listed with Collin Creevey? Prophet photographer?" Harry muttered, clearing his throat and hoping the cotton would clear from his mind.

She gave him a tight smile, scrunching her nose as she looked through a pile of papers stacked on top of a clipboard, "Name?"

"Harry Potter," his voice raised a few octaves from his first answer. He desperately hoped he sounded awake as he seated himself in a stiff chair along the wall of the small room. It would be no good to bring any negative attention to himself, sitting in a building full of reporters.

"Oh," the receptionist's eyes grew wide as her small statement caught in her throat, before she repeated louder, "Oh!

"Mr. Potter, I'll have Mr. Creevey out for you immediately!" She nearly tripped over her own chair as she made to get away from her desk, pushing past a solid door and into another room.

Harry simply shook his head, letting the messy curls hinder his vision, it was far too early in the morning to rush about like that.

Or was it? Harry hadn't remembered a morning where he felt quite so drowsy, and he wasn't even sure he was actually tired. In fact, he had never fallen asleep at all. He hadn't had the chance to sleep.

After last night, how could he even think of sleep?

The receptionist returned, taking small steps now, smiling up at him and blushing ferociously.

"Mr. Creevey is on his way, Mr. Potter," she breathily giggled through his surname.

Harry just gave a slight nod, and he practically felt her swoon as she attempted to seat herself daintily.

A shorter man walked hurriedly through the door, sandy hair tousled in a way not unbecoming. He looked brightly around, his blue eyes lighting up as they landed on Harry, and he stuck his hand out abruptly.

"Harry! Harry, it's so good to see you!" After the almost three years since Harry's hasty graduation from Hogwarts, Collin Creevey remained one of his biggest fans - his boyish face reflected a look of admiration and hunger that bordered on the obsessive, but it was balanced with the sheer joy shining through his eyes as Harry returned his handshake.

Harry bowed his head and averted his eyes, briefly considering Collin's brother, Dennis, and his unfortunate death. It was something he and Collin avoided in conversation after Dennis's funeral, and Harry always found himself blinking away the remaining pain and fear as he looked at the near-identical younger brother of the former Creevey.

The only thing left after the war was to move on. Luna had taught him that, after finding him wallowing in despair too often in the small corners of their apartment.

The handshake lasted a moment too long, and Harry felt how heavy his own hand seemed. Every motion that morning had felt as though it occurred under water.

Collin smiled up at him, "Just follow me, Harry. I think I've got an editor you could speak to today, on short notice like this."

He followed the sandy haired man's short steps, idly ignoring the simpering receptionist, and thought of how Collin had grown since their days as school mates. He still showed traces of the boy who had followed The Chosen One around Hogwarts, taking photographs of him and begging for his signature on everything from muggle photos to napkins. Now Collin had a fairly successful career as one of the Prophet's lead photojournalists - his fame from the war made him a commodity while his agility with a camera kept him on the bankroll; not to mention the handful of times Harry let him take candid photos of him, or of Ron and Hermione.

They walked quickly through a short hallway before entering a bustling office room, countless desks and cubicles littering the floor in skewed symmetry. Reporters rushed from desk to desk, quills and parchment flying through the air, bubbles of noise popping as silencing charms clashed and burst against each other.

Harry's steps stilled, gazing across the wide room, eyes flitting from one desk where a slouching witch tapped along a muggle laptop to a short wizard running between several cubicles with stacks of parchment in hand.

Collin chuckled a few steps ahead of him, "Quite a sight, isn't it? I almost forgot you'd never been to the newsroom before. Don't you work as a regular for the Carridwen Chronicle?"

The brunette blinked slowly. There was too much rushing about for him to comprehend it all that morning. He settled with the answer, "Our newsroom at Carridwen has never been this... busy."

With a small bow and slight flourish of his lightly draping robes, Collin announced with a wide smile, "Welcome to the Daily Prophet, Mister Harry Potter."

There was a hitch in the atmosphere of the newsroom, as several reporters slowed their movements and stared pointedly at Harry, looking much like vultures stalking their next meal, beady eyes pinning him down.

Harry felt a blush creep up his neck, and hastily followed Collin once again.

"So," Collin began, talking rapidly, "the owl you sent me the other day came as quite a surprise! I hadn't heard you'd started writing! I was so happy to see you were interested in the subject seriously, Harry. I was done wih work early yesterday, so I took a few minutes compiling all your submitted articles from the Carridwen Chronicle, creating a kind of portfolio for you - I put you OWLs in there, too! I hope you don't mind, it's just public record after all.

"And I was talking to our news editor, Marcus Ferdinand, the other day in the break room, and he mentioned the need for some newer, fresher material - and the latest writers haven't much been cutting it for the Prophet. I told him about your interest, and how we knew each other back at Hogwarts - I told him you really were a good guy, you know, and not to worry about all the bad press we've been giving you. He doesn't like Rita Skeeter's editorials much, but she's under the Life & Times Editor, but then you'll probably never meet her editor, Shelley MacLaney.

"But I showed him your portfolio - Marcus, that is. He seemed impressed, and said he'd be glad to speak to you anytime.

"So that's when I sent the owl - it's kind of an impromptu interview, it's really more of a casual chat, more than anything. I thought you'd appreciate it," Collin paused just a moment, before adding worriedly, "I didn't owl you too early this morning, did I? Sometimes I forget the time, I'm always working and such..."

Harry was stunned that anyone could talk so fast or so much at a single time, forcing him to blink before answering, "Oh, no... It wasn't any trouble at all." And he smiled to Collin as they stopped in front of an ostentatious door along a corner wall of the newsroom, "And thanks. For going through all this trouble for me, Collin."

Collin's eyes lit up as he smiled broadly, "Don't mention it, Harry. It wasn't anything."

Harry simply shook his head at the boy who was very barely a man.

"Now, Marcus is going to want to go over your paperwork, and probably ask you about what your goals at the Prophet would be, but I've put in a good word for you, so no worries." Collin looked away shyly, "And if anything else, I mean, you are Harry Potter."

And with that, he pushed open the door and shoved Harry inside.

Marcus Ferdinand was a thick, stocky man with a permanent crease in his forehead, which wrinkled exceedingly so as he gazed up at Harry amidst a pile of scattered parchment across his desk.

"Yes?" he asked impertinently.

Harry stepped forward, holding out his hand, "Harry Potter, pleased to meet you, sir. Sorry for the intrusion, I just--"

Marcus jumped at the sound of his name, clasping his meaty hand over Harry's, exclaiming, "Oh, no, no intrusion! I just hadn't heard that Creevey had got you in yet, boy!

"Yes, yes, you have a seat, why don't you? We can discuss some of this here," Marcus said, pulling out a thick file with Harry's name scrawled across it in heavy black ink.

As Harry sat in the straight-backed chair Ferdinand conjured for him, though, his mind kept drifting to every place it shouldn't during an interview.

He still felt as though he was trapped in a trance, and there was simply no escaping it.

His thoughts could only stray to last night, his movements were weighed down with old memories of music sunk into his bones. It was like he was suffering withdrawals, and wouldn't function properly again until his feet were on the dance floor of the loft again, with strong pale hands gripping his waist...

He gave an involuntary shudder as thoughts of dancing last night raced through his head, and he felt his cheeks flush from the recollection.

He had been hypnotized by the lights and colors, the bursts of music, the countless people pressed up against him, dancing, churning like a perpetual ocean, and Luna had looked like a fairy queen burning radiantly among the crowd. She had picked out his party attire, and he couldn't have thanked her more if he tried - by the third time he praised her, she silenced him with a wandless Silencio.

They had ventured into the club Harry had briefly heard of around campus, it was more posh than he felt comfortable with, yet the mixture of muggle and magic astounded him. The high ceiling of the place held floating candles and disco balls and chandeliers, all flashing colors and sparkling across the crowd, while onlookers peered tipsily from the namesake of the club, a loft suspended across several rafters over the well-stocked bar.

Luna had grabbed his wrists and pulled him to the packed dance floor, where he let submitted to the sound washing over his body. It was like flying, it was like floating down after catching the snitch. It was so intense he felt it running through his muscles, rippling through his bloodstream, and he flowed with it.

Then of course, there was Draco; beside him, behind him, in front of him and everywhere, dancing and breathing in his ear and licking him there... and just as fast he was gone.

And Harry still didn't know how to feel about that, just yet.

And Blaise had come along, beautiful and tan and offering him drinks and pulling him up to the VIP loft, where he introduced him to several witches and wizards and muggles, whom he hadn't the slightest pretense of memorizing their names. Blaise got him a colorful mixed drink, something sweeter and sourer than he preferred to drink, and began half-whispering against his ear, all too like Draco had done before, but more... different.

Blaise's eyes left his so many times, straying to the nearest pretty girl, or fit bloke, and Harry felt his stomach churn at the empty lust he felt from each of them. Blaise was a bit of a manwhore, apparently.

Harry found it too easy to leave the italian's company under the facade of acquiring more drinks, where he stumbled into Luna - who was steadfastly flirting with a tall, skinny brunette in fishnets. The girl had a sneer that could've knocked a Slytherin off their feet, yet she looked at Luna as though she was a piece of candy in a room full of potions ingredients.

He sent a glare towards the strange woman, throwing a possessive arm around Luna - and an amiable kiss against her cheek - while Pansy Parkinson, the birthday girl herself, spotted them. The drunk Parkinson rushed them away from the odd, tall woman and pulled them onto the dance floor once more.

Harry couldn't dance, though, transfixed by the brilliantly blond DJ directing their night.

He bid Pansy farewell, dragging Luna wordlessly out of the club.

But all his friend did as they found a dark alley to apparate back to the apartment, was question him about Draco.

And all he could do was think about Draco.

How could he do anything but think about Draco?

"Mr. Potter? ...Harry?" Marcus Ferdinand's brusk voice penetrated Harry's thoughts, and Harry felt another blush crawling across his skin.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ferdinand, could you repeat that?"

Ferdinand smiled and looked fixedly at the boy-who-lived, "Yes, of course, I was just saying that..."

Harry mentally shook himself, I need to wake up!

He paid attention to the rest of Ferdinand's words, and smiled to himself as his fame yet again opened another door that would otherwise been closed - he had no knowledge of what people would consider his 'true' talent, his professors often hailed his work, but this was... the Prophet. When did their standard of success include well-written reporting?

"So I think it would be most conducive if you submitted a piece you think would suit our needs, and have it to me by Friday, and I think I'll be able to place it within our Saturday press release. How does that sound, Mr. Potter?" Ferdinand leaned forward on his palms, looking a bit smug.

Harry held his hand forward and smiled briefly at the stumpy editor, "That sounds perfect, sir."

Ferdinand clasped his hand harshly, his grasp just a bit too tight, "Perfect! Perfect, I'll have Cassandra, our copy editor, owl you the submission details, and you handle the rest! Who knows, perhaps you could find yourself with a permanent position here, my boy!"

Harry chuckled and they exchanged parting words, letting Harry make his way out of the office and away from the chaos of the Daily Prophet offices. It wasn't what he had expected, but it was a greater outlet than what the Carridwen Chronicle could provide.

He walked out of the building and into a cool breeze, welcome against his near-sleep-walking.

Half-way back to his flat, he pressed his back against the broad bricks of an old, abandoned building, breathing deeply and looking up to the grey sky. Piercing grey. Like his eyes.

How could one person affect him so? How... how could Draco Malfoy affect him so?

He blinked, slow and heavy, another shiver rolling through his body as he felt the ghost of Draco's tongue trace the shell of his ear.

He'd only just met... or, re-met, this new persona of Draco Malfoy in the past week, and it already felt like a whirlwind of emotions coursing through him at the simple thought of the blond.

Where had the snobby, pointy boy from school gone? Who was this new, confident, sexy man?

He stepped into his flat, shaking off his jacket and noticing the whole apartment was lit with floating oriental paper lights.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing was ever out of the ordinary for Luna.

"Lu? You in the kitchen?" He called curiously into the flat, settling on the hanging wicker couch.

"Oh you got the job! Good!" She vaulted into the room, carrying Dinah close to her chest in a way that made his fur bristle.

Harry only smiled, "And I haven't even said anything yet."

"Sometimes I wonder if your head is still full of nargles, especially when you don't speak fast." She replied wisely.

Luna continued as Harry shrugged off his navy sweater, "And don't forget that Pansy invited us to the A.I.F.E's Fall Fundraising Event."

"What? When did she do that?" The brunette sat upright, shocked.

"When we were leaving the party, remember? When you were mooning over Draco?" Luna stated sincerely, large eyes bearing into him curiously. "It's being held at the museum I work at, anyways, so I'd have asked you to attend regardless."

Harry grimaced inwardly, "You still work at the Brigit Museum of Modern Art?"

Luna blinked slowly at him, "I haven't changed my occupation recently, of course I do."

Just as well, Katherine will be there.

Ick, Katherine, Harry shuddered as he thought about the woman he found Luna crying over just days ago.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Lu," Harry offered her a grin, and smiled broadly when she returned it and walked towards her bedroom.

"Of course you wouldn't, Harry," was all he heard as her door closed and the faint sound of paint on canvass could once again be heard throughout the apartment.

He sighed softly to himself.

He would have to keep Luna from getting hurt. He would have to find a way to angle Kingsley's story, so the Prophet would publish him. He would have to stop focusing on Draco Malfoy.

He would have to stop focusing on Draco Malfoy. And the way his pale hair falls over his heavy gaze. And how, oh just how grey his eyes really look, when you're so close you can feel his breath, and he leans in and whispers to you huskily, his lips centimeters from your skin and his tongue, oh his tongue just... just trailing... across....

Harry ran stiffly to his room and threw up a silencing charm.

He let out a moan as he unzipped his jeans and freed himself, gripping the base of his cock and giving a swift tug.

Maybe he would focus on not focusing on Draco Malfoy much, much later.





AN: thanks for putting up with me, everyone. :) readers really make this worth it.
chapter now beta'd!! my beta just got her laptop back so things ought to run more smooth as we go along.
i just want to let ya'll know, i believe this will be no more than 20-25 chapters long. sound sufficient? if anyone has feedback concerning story length, or plot ideas, please feel free to let me hear them :) either via review, or emailing me (my email is listed on my author profile).
expect another post in another week, but also know i'm working on somewhat of a surprise for ya'll ;)

Dragon: you're adorable! i hope to keep you dancing your happy dance lol it will keep going, no worries. i'm back on track :)

tiggator: keep smiling! updates should be up weekly, at this point. if not more often, honestly. but i'm saying once a week to get a feel for what i cant accomplish (what with midterms, and my new museum internship happening right now haha).
also! your stories are awesome. i believe i've mentioned that i'd go back and review the ones i read... but ive been lazy, and havent read much of anything... but just know that you're awesome!

I.Drowned.My.Goldfish: i smiled uncontrollably when i read "It's seriously all like raoawr!" you're fantastic. and i am truly sorry for leaving everyone hanging! it was never meant to happen! super long story. in the meantime, i will let you know that i would NEVER complete a full-length drarry without some nice, juicy smut. so, there will be smut in the future lol. i'm just not sure how far into the future... i still want it to be realistic ;) but it will happen, i can let you know that much.
and if you look through the other stories i've posted, there's a nice little oneshot with some smut... but it's got some fet!, so fair warning (i felt the need to reach out and experiment, and fet!smut happened... go figure).

elfqueen114: i think blaise's role is pushed aside in this chapter, but his character will morph a bit more and become a tad more three-dimensional as the story unravels... my beta is pushing for some blaise/drarry action, but i just dont know how realistic that would be in conjunction with the people i've made harry and draco become. so needless to say, blaise isnt completely out of the picture just yet!
and the next chapter will reveal more concerning what's happening with some of those missing charity funds... thanks for the words of encouragement! you're great. :)