The Phoenix and The Dragon

Warnings for this chappie: Solo

A/N this doesn't do much for the plot, that'll be the next chapter. This is mostly bonding between our two favorite boys. I'm taking a poll. I'm not sure who to make top and who to make bottom, when the time comes. I would like to know your thoughts. Happy reading.

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The smell of Bacon wafted into Harry’s bedroom and Draco heard his stomach grumble. The smell must have woken him up. He could feel the bed shift as Harry turned over toward him and draped an arm across Draco’s midsection. For the first time in a long time Draco had woken up feeling safe. Granted his father was missing in action but even so. To be quite honest Lucius had been in tougher binds before and had always, to Draco’s knowledge, come out smelling like roses. He put it out of his mind, worring would do him no good. The arm that lay across him was heavy and warm and Draco decided all together pleasant. He thought about the night before and smiled to himself. Potter wondered if he and Pansy had been an item. Very curious indeed. Well he’d put that to rest by coming out to Potter, who didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, if Draco had read the Gryffindor correctly, he would say Harry was at the very least fine with it and at the most downright giddy. Draco smiled again and carefully turned to face the sleeping boy beside him. He could feel the warmth radiating off of Harry’s body and the air around him thrummed with energy. His smile morphed into a smirk and his eyes narrowed. Slowly he tilted his head towards his bed mate and put his lips close to Harry’s ear. He breathed in deeply through his nose. Harry smelled of musk and rain and fresh cut grass. He smelled uniquely like Harry. Draco took another breath in and then…

“POTTER!” Harry jerked his hands and gripped Draco’s shoulders in reaction to the scream, his eyes were wide and alert. Draco was still for a moment and then started laughing. When Harry’s grip relaxed the brunette flung himself down onto the pillow looking absolutely infuriated. Draco’s laughter renewed itself and he had to breathe deeply through his nose to stop it.

“What the fuck Malfoy!” Draco tried not to sound to giggly when he replied that he had been hungry and didn’t want to wait for Harry to get up before he went down to breakfast. “Did you need to screech in my ear like that!?!”

Malfoy cocked his head in thought as he raised himself up onto his elbows. Of course he did, it had just been too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“No. I just thought it would be funny.” He smiled broadly for effect. “I was right.”

Harry dropped his head back on to the pillow looking forlornly at the ceiling, his expression a theatrical ‘why me?’ Draco couldn’t help but stare at the exposed column of flesh that was Harry’s neck as the Gryffindor tipped his head back.

“Come on Potter that was nothing. You’re friends with the Weasley twins.”

“Even they don’t mess with a blokes sleep, er, much”

“Awww, did I wake ickle Harry from his beauty rest?” Draco raised his eyebrows and batted his eyelashes, he pouted in an attempt at looking coy. When the pillow slammed into him and knocked the giddy Slytherin backwards he was sure it worked. He heard Harry’s mutinous laughter above him and even though he could hardly breathe Draco couldn’t help but feel an urgent heat envelop him and make his heart beat faster.

“Say you’re sorry Malfoy!” Harry called from above him.

“Not a chance!” He screamed. It sounded more like muffled gibberish but he was certain Harry understood.

“Are you sure? It seems like such a waste to kill you now.” Draco was laughing and trying to breathe at the same time. Finally, when he felt Harry’s grip ease ever so slightly, he reared up and toppled the Gryffindor. After a deep and hurried breath he swung himself over and straddled the brunette.

“Look who’s on top now! That was not very nice you know. I wake you up for breakfast and this is how you repay me?” Draco heard his own voice sounding deep and guttural through his ragged gasps. He could also feel the sharp pressure at his thigh that signaled Harry hadn’t quite gotten over his morning erection before starting their little game. He wiggled in the guise to get comfortable and saw Harry’s neck and ears redden almost imperceptibly. Harry struggled against him in vain before settling back with a scowl. “Mercy, Harry?”

“Mercy, you poncy bastard.”


“Hmm,” he tilted his head and stared down at the boy beneath him. He could see the flicker of fear in Harry’s eyes. What, did Harry think he was some kind of pervert or something? Gryffindors! Draco had no intention of acting out any of Harry’s lurid fantasies, yet. Instead he bit his lip in thought. Harry gulped below him. “I guess I can accept that.”

Draco leaned back and released Harry’s wrists. He casually got off the bed and began rummaging through Harry’s closet. He could feel the green eyes burning into his back.

Inside Draco was whooping with glee, outside he was perfectly calm. He turned with a pair of pants and t-shirt slung over his shoulder. Harry was staring at him with narrowed eyes.

“Really?”

“Yes, for now.” Suddenly the brave, black-haired boy looked a bit more nervous than before and at the same time Draco could see the anticipation of a challenge light up Harry’s face. “I’m going to take a shower. Join me?” Harry shook his head and with a roll of his eyes he turned back over and lay down to wait for his turn in the bathroom. Draco muttered ‘pity’ before he left the room, knowing Harry would hear it and not be able to fall back asleep. Ha!

The steam in the bathroom was calming and Draco listened intently to the muffled sound of the water as he washed himself. He was thinking about a silky pair of knickers he had a home that he desperately wanted when he heard the softest click. Frozen Draco scrubbed the soap out of his eyes and peered around the shower curtain. There, as plain as day, was Harry in his boxer shorts readying to brush his teeth, Draco felt himself harden and at once had to cover his mouth to hold back a groan. Gryffindor-1, Slytherin-0. He quickly closed the curtain.

Draco tried to busy himself washing but couldn’t wipe the image of Harry half-naked and surrounded by steam, out of his mind. He would have to make a run for it. So he hurriedly finished rinsing and flung his hand out to grab one of the Dursley’s fluffy white towels. He tied it tightly around his waist and held his hands in front of his now throbbing member.

“You done Malfoy?” He heard Harry call from the other side of the curtain.

“Uh, yeah.” Draco stepped out and his jaw dropped. Harry had just finished stripping of his garish red boxer shorts and stood there in his birthday suit, half-erect no less, grinning.

“Thanks for not using all the hot water today.” He strode past a shocked solid Draco and into the shower. The nerve of him! Draco brushed his teeth in nanoseconds, grabbed his folded clothes roughly and was out the door and into the safety of the bedroom faster then a hippogriff on a pepper-up potion.

He rushed to the bedside table and grabbed a hand full of Kleenex. Before he knew it he was wanking painfully fast and painfully hard on Harry’s bed, dry. He threw his head back in ecstasy when he reached his climax, shaking and muttering filthy whispers under his breath. When he came to he was thankful to hear the shower still running. Draco chanced a glance at the clock, 10:45 am. Not too bad. In fact compared to recently he had damn near slept in. Moving languorously he dressed and lay back down with his hands behind his head.

Harry entered a few minutes later, flushed from the heat of his shower and whatever other activities that Draco could only guess at.

“I’m still hungry, hurry up.” Harry sighed and took some clothes out of his closet. He dropped his towel and Draco made no move to hide his leer as he watched Harry change. The brunette didn’t even make eye-contact and Draco knew he had just evened the score. Haary may not know that Draco heard his exclamation of attraction that first night Draco was sure Harry knew he was being checked out.

When Harry finished changing Draco followed him downstairs to the kitchen and saw that the breakfast he had smelled was eaten or thrown out already. Harry poured them two bowls of cereal and proceeded to eat standing up. Draco sat down at the table, napkin in lap, and tucked in to his grape nuts. It tasted like milky barely and he irritably scooped three heaping spoonfuls of sugar over the bowl. Harry sniggered but said nothing.

“Your aunts attempt at trying to cut a few pounds off your behemoth cousin?”

“Yup.”

“Lovely. Didn’t I tell you I don’t eat breakfast cereal.”

“I rather like them. It’s better than the half grapefruit she used to make us eat when Smeltings recommended he diet.”

“You would. Who is Smeltings?” Draco sneered at Harry’s snort from the kitchen.

“Smeltings isn’t a ‘who’, its Dudley’s school.”

“Ah.” The house sounded empty and Draco wondered where the Dursley’s were. “Where are the muggles?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“Yes, that means what to me?”

“They go the market on Saturday mornings and out to lunch.” Harry seemed happy but Draco was filled with irritation.

“I assume they never bring you along?”

“I never wanted to go.” Draco scowled into his bowl.

“It’s not right you know, the way they treat you.”

“Neither is the way you treated me.” It was true but Draco admitted nothing. “Either way I like having the house to myself for a while. They used to take me when they were afraid I would burn the place down, I always hated it.”

“Well obviously, they don’t seem particularly fond of you.” That was an understatement, unless you counted Harry’s exceedingly odd aunt.

“You’ve noticed.”

“With my keen sense of perception.”

“You don’t have to be sharp to figure it out.” Draco laughed.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not.”

“No, I guess not.” Inwardly Draco was blushing at the compliment. Outwardly he knew he appeared cool as a cucumber thanks to ‘Malfoy’ breeding and discipline.

“When do you think they’ll be back?”

Harry strode out of the kitchen and sat at the table.

“Probably not for a while, why?”

“Just curious. And the Order, when do you think they will be in touch?” Harry looked thoughtful.

“I’m not sure. Tonight maybe, but most likely tomorrow. I can’t see them being excited about me harboring a fugitive and I’m betting on a large row before they agree to my terms.” Harry sounded casual and confident to Draco, who had been nervous about the whole ordeal.

“You know them better than I do.”

“Yeah, since you think of them as blood traitors and wouldn’t speak to one of them if you hadn't gotten into this mess.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Harry’s sarcasm was light hearted but Draco knew he had to clear some things up.

“I’m not the boy from Hogwarts anymore. I’m an adult now with a new outlook and I realized a long time ago that the Dark Lord and his followers were mad. I just couldn’t break away.”

“Call him Voldemort.”

“Voldemort and his followers were mad. Happy? There was no one to turn to and nothing I could do until I came here. I admit I was a prat but that was all I knew. You must understand that.” Harry frowned.

“I do. It’s just hard to believe you never meant anything you said.”

“I did mean it. I never said I didn’t mean it.” Draco leaned back casually and hoped that it made him look more relaxed because the conversation was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

“But you just-” Harry’s eyes were narrowed and his brow was furrowed in thought. Draco could only imagine what the boy savior was remembering from their rocky past.

“I just said I didn’t know any better. Can you forgive me my past indiscretions?”

“Was that an apology?”

“As close as you’re going to get to one.” Which was the truth. Malfoy’s almost never apologized and under no circumstances did they utter the actual words ‘I’m sorry.’ In fact to his recollection he’d only said it once before and he had truly meant it. He had said to Granger that he was sorry about the fiasco the night of Dumbleodre’s death.

“Then apology accepted.”

“I should think so.” Harry shook his head in mock exasperation. “What’s the form of your corporeal Patronus?” The words flew from his mouth before he was able to stop them. Harry looked taken aback.

“A stag, why?”

“I was wondering, last night, what mine will be.” Draco pinched himself for his brief lapse in judgment. He hadn’t meant to sound nervous and thought to himself that this whole situation might be getting too uncomfortable. He had only meant to change the topic.

“A ferret.” Draco felt the tiniest pink blush creep up to his cheeks. Damn Potter.

“Oh, you think its funny do you.”

“It’s not so bad. I think they’re cute.” Harry was sniggering.

“Yes, that will be my secret weapon. The dementors will be too busy cuddling with my Patronus to stop us from getting the horcrux.” He knew he was over-reacting but his ego was still tender about the ‘bouncing ferret’ incident.

“I’m sure you’re Patronus will be very powerful Malfoy, very intimidating.”

“Don’t patronize me Potter.” Harry sniggered again but at least had the decency to look guilty about it.

Draco and Harry spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon bickering, though their spats were good-natured and amicable.

Draco told Harry all about his mothers inheritated pension for beheaded house elf plaques in Malfoy manner. “After all she was a Black before she married my father.”

Harry taught Draco about electricity and the joys of carbonated beverages. “Muggles are so weird.”

Draco made a comment about being hungry again and Harry discussed lunch options with his rather demanding guest. “So your gargantuan cousin gets to eat out and what do I get?”

“A cheese sandwich made by the saviour of the wizarding world?”

“That’s not amusing Potter.”

“Who’s laughing?”

They were sitting companionably in front of the T.V., argueing over the remote, when the Dursleys returned. Much to Draco’s chagrin they were forced back up to Harry’s bedroom with a short announcment from Vernon. Draco had wanted to assert his Malfoy nature and talk condesendingly to Vernon before denying him completely, but one look from Harry shut the Slytherin’s mouth. He had never thought that he would be treated so poorly as a house-guest and his pureblood sensebilities protested in outrage. How dare they! But Harry didn’t seem up to battling with the ignorent muggle and Draco decided it wouldn’t be any fun without Harry. Instead he settled on languidly tracing circles on the Gryffindor’s threadbare coverlet.

“So whats our plan for this evening Potter?”

“Wait for Pansy and if we’re lucky get out of here to practice.”

“Well that’s simple enough.”

“How much defensive magic do you know?”

“I know more defensive, not to mention offensive, spells then you know words.” It was true. Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” His tone was sarcastic and a little condescending.

“My father is a Death Eater. What do you think I do during the summer hols?” That shut up the ex-leader of the D.A. Draco had to smile. “You were right about the Patronus, obviously. I’ve never even tried it.” Draco noticed Harry perk up slightly at the prospect of teaching him something. The brunnette moved to sit beside him on the bed.

“The spell is simple really. You just think of your happiest memory, you think of it so hard that its like your there. Then you say the incantation, Expecto Patronum, and you’ve got a patronus. The hard part is thinking of your happiest memory when your faced with a dementor.”

“I can imagine.” Draco remembered the Dementors clearly. The feeling of being cold and alone and the despair that ran so deep that he had thought briefly that he would never be happy again. Ever. It was awful. That was how he had felt when he found out his father was no longer in Azkaban. He pushed the thought away again. Draco found it was easy once one had the hang of it, to compartmentalize your emotions, to hold them back until they were useful. He had been doing it all his life. The only slip up he had in the past had been last year and the whole debacle that followed his acceptence of his ‘mission.’ Draco subconsciously traced the scar that ran down his chest and over his abdomen. It was slightly raised and jagged. Potter had done that. The same Potter that was pratteling on next to him about how difficult it had been to find a memory happy enough to produce a corporeal patronus.

“- settled on a memory of my parents.” Draco was brought back to the conversation abruptly.

“I thought you had no memory of your parents.” Harry looked pensieve and a bit withdrawn.

“I don’t. It was more the idea of a memory.”

“Somehow I don’t think my happy memory will be of my mother and father.”

“No?”

“No. My happiest memory is-“

“You don’t have to tell me.” Harry looked nervous.

“You told me yours.”

“Yes but-“

“Probably it'll be when you said you would risk your life to protect me.” Silence. He hadn’t expected that and Draco could tell that the Gryffindor was uneasy.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I’m safe with you Potter. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Your not safe.”

“Well I know I can trust you at least. That’s more then I can say for anyone else right now. You’re all I’ve got…Sad isn’t it?”

“A bit.” Harry smiled slowly. “You know Ferret, when you’re not being a prat you’re not so bad.”

“Likewise Scarhead.”